Wilhelmina Maddox

"Hey."

Will looked up from her desk, her skull a bass drum thumping to the rhythm of her heart. "Hey."

It was Detective Allison Kerry, brown waves falling over her cheeks as she smiled warmly down at her. "You look like shit."

She let out a small chuckle. "I started this wonderful hobby called drinking before bed."

"I can tell. Word on the street is you've been crashing at Hoffman's for the past few weeks. The man drinks like it's rush week in college. Trust me, you should cut and run ASAP if you value your waistline. And your liver."

Will winced as her head throbbed worse, hissing while massaging her temples. "Yeah. I say that I'll never drink again every morning. But somehow, we both just end up finishing a handle before midnight."

"Sounds like Hoffman." Kerry gave a knowing smirk to Will with foggy eyes as though reminiscing a nostalgic memory. Will had never really seen Allison up close and personal and couldn't help but admire her high cheekbones and long lashes. "So how is it? Living with your partner? And not your legal partner?" Kerry took a seat on Will's desk, legs dangling off the edge.

Will narrowed her eyes. "Why? You trying to say something?"

"No, honey, not like that. Trust me, I'm not one to judge. I just-," she looked around real quick and leaned close to speak softer, "-heard that you're going through some marriage trouble. I wanted to say sorry. And offer you a place to stay that probably doesn't stink of testosterone and gym socks. I have a spare bedroom and would love a buddy to help split the rent. You know how crazy expensive housing is out here. And I bet you'd love a break from the big lug."

She blinked up in surprise. "Thanks, Kerry. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea." She admitted it was time to consider getting her own place. Though she was getting comfortable, she was beginning to suspect Hoffman wanted his bed back.

"Yeah?" The women's eyes lit up like diamonds. "Great. If you want, I can give you a ride there after work."

"Sounds like a plan. But wait-," Despite the pain she felt throughout her body her mind nagged at her that something was off. "-who told you about my situation?"

"I did." Hoffman's voice broke through, gruff and loud. Will resented how he looked as he always did, which wasn't necessarily pristine, but much better than she fared at the moment. His hair was combed back, his suit looked fresh. She had opted to wear the same outfit twice in a row now, her hair beginning to look a little dull and greasy. She had barely gotten through brushing her teeth that morning.

"Looks like she's in. I'm stealing her from you, Hoffman," Kerry got to her feet and put a hand on Will's shoulder and squeezed it. "I need a roommate and she needs a break from your drinking."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't seem too offended. "Good. Shit was getting expensive, paying for two mouths to drink. Plus that bra in the sink was the last straw, Maddox."

"I told you, they were just soaking," Will softly defended but bowed her head, her lip curling at how he had literally yowled when he had seen the kitchen sink. "But yeah, it would be nice to have a room that's actually mine." She figured she was beginning to outstay her welcome.

"Glad to help," Hoffman was curt and expressionless.

"Damn, honey," Kerry laughed, "I thought he'd be all shook up about you abandoning him. Anyways, come find me around five. I'll give you a ride." The detective left them two and went to walked towards the far doorway, where Detective Eric Matthews was sipping coffee and leaning against the wall. Eric Matthews nodded towards them, having watched Will and Kerry's conversation. Will awkwardly smiled back and waved in return, not recalling ever formally meeting himthe man.

"Thanks," Will swiped the aspiring pills Hoffman had begun ritually placing on her desk and swallowed several. "I didn't know Kerry was looking for a roommate. How did you know?"

Hoffman reached for the morning paper and whipped it open, blocking the view of his face. "Matthews."

"Oh. You two close?" Will couldn't help but pester him, partly to see if his lack of hangover was more an act than reality. So far, it seemed he was unaffected. The bastard.

"We go way back."

"How far back?"

"You're amazingly obnoxious, for someone who says she's in pain." Hoffman slapped his newspaper down to his lap and tossed her an angry leer.

"Maybe I'm especially obnoxious because I'm in pain," she muttered, cupping her cheeks in her hands while propping her head with her elbows. "Seriously, though, tell me, I never see you two together."

"He's busy. Has a newborn at home and works here. We don't exactly go work out together anymore. We went to the Academy together. Graduated in the same class."

"Oh." Will studied her desk, her vision cloudy. She noticed an envelope in her inbox, the paper texturous and her name written in metallic ink. Her curiosity was redirected to the parcel and she went to touch the dry and rough stationary. There was no return label. A gold sticker sealed the letter, a generic crown embossed on the metallic paper.

She regretted opening it. "What the fuck." The picture fell in front of her and she glared at the hideous image. It was a dick. A literal dick pic. It wasn't a flattering image. It looked like a mushroom and snake were cross-bred with stray black public hairs growing in areas she wished she'd never known.

"The fuck?" Hoffman reached over and took the polaroid snapshot, disgust in his face as he turned it over. "Who sent it?"

"Doesn't say." She read the card, searching for any clues. It certainly wasn't Frank's. She couldn't imagine who on earth would think it was a good idea to be leaving her such a vulgar note. Better not be anyone in the station, I swear to god. She braced herself as she read the handwriting in the blank cardstock.

Hey, Red.

Been thinking about you. Here's a little something to help your imagination.

Come see me. You know where to find me.

Toni

"Gross," Will shuttered and tossed the card away from her. It floated down to Hoffman's side of their desks and he went to study the note.

His lips curled and his teeth showed as he sneered. Their eyes locked and she found him looking more concerned than she felt. "Don't go anywhere alone. You got that?"

"Jesus, Hoffman, it's just a stuipd note. Something horny high schoolers would put in my locker."

"Only Rosello's one sick son of a bitch. And someone in here put this in your inbox. Seriously, Maddox. Don't go anywhere alone. Not even to the head. Grab Kerry."

"I think you're overreacting," she sighed and folded her arms, leaning back and crossing her legs.

"I think you're not taking Toni Rosello seriously. He's targeting you, Will."

"How can I take Rosello seriously if I've never heard of half the shit he's done? Can you explain better?" Will petulantly watched her partner, searching for any indication. "What's he done that's got you spooked? Come on, tell me."

Hoffman cleared his throat and pulled out of his desk drawer their latest case file and plopped it in front of her. "We don't have time."

She exhaled sharply through her nose, frustration heating up her neck. "Were you seriously just sitting on this all morning?" Flipping the cover of the stiff manila folder, the latest crime scene photos of a battered woman staring back with a pair of blackened eyes added to her intense migraine. The police report summarized that the neighbors had phoned the department, assuming the husband was assaulting the wife. Will chose to ignore the tightening of the tendons in her neck as she flipped through the rest of the pictures. One particular photo of the woman's fingers made her flinch. The dainty pinky and ring finger were bent in the wrong direction.

"Figured you needed a moment to get your head on straight before dropping this one on you. Domestic dispute, Southside. West of Englewood Park. Grissom wanted you to talk to the vic today."

"Why me?"

"She wouldn't talk to the last two detectives, both male. She won't accuse her spouse. She insists she fell down the stairs. In their single level flat."

Will sighed. "I see. All right. I'll talk to her. What else?" Will continued to rifle through the various pages, noting this case seemed longer running than just the past week.

"Her daughter's been missing for a few months. The school finally reported it to us, after a social worker made a wellness check on the kid. The parents had been making regular calls to the school, saying she was sick with various illnesses but never gave a doctor's note."

Her heart already sank. She already felt certain this was not going to be a cut and dry gig. "Fuck."

"Yeah." Hoffman stretched his arms up and shot up to his feet, swiping the car keys off his partner's desk. "You're in no condition to drive today. Let's go."

Mark Hoffman

Hoffman had decided to stop and get some coffee at the department's favorite donut shop before making their way to the suspects' residence. There were several uniforms currently enjoying their late morning brews. He locked eyes with one particular uniform who merely looked away in cold disregard while muttering something that made his partner turn to sneak a peak with an unsubtle turn of the head.

He was used to this. He was, after all, the infamous prodigal Detective in MPD. He resisted clenching his jaw as he stared straight ahead as the many fellow line-standers looked up at the overhead menu or spoke amongst each other. They didn't know shit. Let them swap their ghost stories and stay wearing the blue until their hair went white and they retired with no fucking idea of how the world really worked.

He felt thirsty all of a sudden. He cleared his throat and went to look out the front windows, towards his Crown Vic.

Will was likely huddled in the car, rubbing her temples while whining about how unnecessary it was to take this detour but he had skipped breakfast and she likely needed something in her stomach as well. He didn't mention this, but he noticed her cheekbones starting to protrude more pronouncedly. Her already lean frame was beginning to shrink in a way that was more dangerous in the field than he'd like.

This was one of the main reasons he had gotten ahold of Kerry. He didn't need to drag Will down into his bad habits. She had not only begun joining him on his nightly quota of whiskey drinking with enthusiasm but had started getting a little too cozy for him to handle. He had already been toeing the line of 'friendliness' to something more with their sleeping in the same apartment. With her passively asking him to open tightly sealed jars of pickles, casually brushing her hand against his chest when reaching over to grab something he was next to, or easily propping her ankles on his thighs when he was watching TV on his own damn couch, she was getting a little too familiar and that was dangerous.

It had been the final straw when she had sauntered out of his bedroom in nothing but her bra and pants that morning, as if they were long-lovers that he decided to cut the cord. He couldn't focus. She was too distracting. And he preferred not having the urge to take a cold shower or rub one out real quick to keep himself from going insane every ten minutes in his own damn house. Where I pay the rent, damn it, he smirked at that, feeling superior while reminding himself of the fact.

So he gave her the boot. Kerry would be good for her. Hell, they could go to Vermont and get hitched for all he cared. He just wanted some privacy in his life again.

His phone rang, jolting him from his thoughts. "Yeah?" He already recognized the number. It was Ange.

"Mark, what's Will's number?"

"Good morning, sis, how are things?" The line was making some progress and he stepped forward. "Can't talk for too long."

"Then just give me her phone number and I'll let you go," Angie sounded rushed herself.

"Why do you need to contact my partner?"

"Because Rachel's out of state for work and I need a lady friend to take me dress shopping. Also, it's totally none of your business since it's not work related, Moshy," Angie teased back, using his childhood nickname. "Less talkie, more numbers."

"I don't think I like the idea of my work mixing with my personal life."

"Like you even have a personal life," Angie never pulled the punches. "Well, if you plan on being this difficult I can always just call Allison Kerry. You know we sometimes get brunch. I'm sure she'd hook me up with Will. Or I can just call any of the police wives I hang out with and they'd be happy to get me this info. And because this will make me use up what little free time I have to get this info - that you could have always given me instantly like a good big brother would do - I'll just have to make things even between us. Like maybe telling Will about Pooh Bear."

Hoffman's heart stopped. "You wouldn't."

"Try me, Moshy," Angelina's voice had gone icy and manipulative. The hairs on his neck prickled at her using her childhood pet name for him. She only pulled it when she was feeling especially manipulative or drunk. He was confident she wasn't drunk. He felt himself quickly lose the upper hand. "Oh, and how you thought Michael Meyers was real and you used to barricade your-"

"Fine." Hoffman knew he couldn't win and didn't want to relive the cringe moments of his youth. He told her Will's number. "And you'll never mention any of this to her."

"Of course, Moshy," his sister's voice was pure and sweet. Just like her namesake. "Will won't know about any of the hundreds of embarrassing stories of our childhood. At least for now. Anyways, thanks, Mark, love you!" The familiar click of her hanging up her phone and the sound of the phone call ending made him half smirk and half frown at this.

Jesus. Sometimes, Angelina scared the shit out of him.

When he finally got to the front of the line, he ordered a dozen of various donuts, two coffees, and made his way back to the car with his haul. As he made his way to the vehicle, the vision of a sleeping ginger with frizzy red hair greeted him like a familiar breeze on a hot day. He felt his shoulders soften and his face go slack at the sight of her.

He firmly struck his knuckle against the passenger's glass and Will opened her bloodshot eyes, rolling down the window and humbly accepting the steaming paper cup. He handed the box of pastries to her too before making his way back to the seat of control and taking a slow sip of his coffee. He helped himself to one of the cream filled cakes, taking a healthy bite while she stared at him with a distracted expression.

"Keep eating those and you'll get a dad bod."

"So long as I can chase down a suspect, who cares? And you're one to talk. You should try one. You're looking like a skeleton these days, shrimp."

A gentle grin curled her lips and she took one of the plain donuts. "You flatter me."

"It wasn't a compliment. Can't have backup blown away by the wind." He wanted his words to sting her but she always let it roll off her back with a smile that annoyed and excited him. "Eat up. We'll visit the kid's mother as soon as you're done."

"Gee, thanks, Dad." They ate in silence for a few minutes, the sound of the car engine whirring whining softly, the only background noise amongst them.

"Angie's gonna call you soon. She wants to do girl shit. She mentioned shopping." He broke the silence first, wanting to get ahead of this trainwreck before it got too messy for him to stomach. "Just keep me out of any conversation."

Will snorted. "Like we'd want to waste our time talking about you."

He sneered at this. "Good. Just so you know, you better treat her right. She's important to me."

"I promise I won't have my way with her, Hoffman."

He choked on his coffee, opening his car door to let the dribble spill out as he spit as much air and scalding liquid outside and not in his car or on his suit, as best he could. What the fuck, Will.

"Chill. I swear, it's like you refuse to let me talk like a man."

"Don't even joke," he growled, anger brimming up his chest. The picture of the two of them, deep in liplock burned behind his eyes. "Don't even make that kind of fucking implication. And if you were a man, I'd deck you right here for saying that shit." He glared at her, the imagery too horrific and disturbing for him to suppress. It was pestilent, like a mold, rotting his brain.

"Sorry." Her eyebrows crinkled and her lower lip pouted with remorse. "I'll just shut up now."

"You do that." He wanted to run his hands through his hair but restrained himself. He didn't want to let her know how flustered he felt. His pulse was pounding in his neck as he gripped the steering wheel. He didn't bother to wait for her to finish after that. He put the car in gear and began driving to their next destination.

"Shit!" Maddox's surprised cry made him turn his head real quick. He must have caught her off guard when he skirted out of the lot. The smell of spilled coffee and her quickly ripping open her steaming blouse made him punch the brake and pull over.

"You okay?"

"Jesus, fuck," She was already wiping the brown stains on her skin. "Don't worry. I didn't get it on the car." She looked pained, wincing as she fanned her reddening collar.

He didn't hesitate when he took a nearby water bottle and poured it over her front; her tight brow relaxed. "I'll get some ice." He looked wildly around and spotted a gas station nearby.

"Don't bother, worst part is over." She let out a small laugh. "Thank God it wasn't that hot." She was dabbing her cleavage with her shirt, the pristine white fabric now ruined. "You got your gym bag?"

"Yeah." He turned to reach for the duffel bag on the floor of the backseat. Thankfully he had put fresh clothes in the night before. "Here. We can head back to my place and you can change."

"Don't bother. We're late. I have some extra clothes at the station." He watched her throw on the oversized shirt, a wave of disappointment coming over him at the sudden modesty. She put her hands under the shirt as she proceeded to unclasp her bra. "Keep staring and I'll start thinking you did this on purpose," she gave him a sharp smile that looked more annoyed than casual.

He turned to look straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He focused on his breathing. "It was an accident. Sorry."

"You're fine. Let's just go."

The Jeffersons lived in one of the shithole apartments that were overdue to be torn down and rebuilt with fresh condominiums for the gentrified-centric elite that tended to buy this sort of real estate. He pulled up behind the patrol car standing watch. He greeted the uniform who looked relieved for his cue to head home.

"About time, Hoffman," It was Rigg, the man smiling up at him with more warmth than he was used to getting from the rookies.

"Anything strange happen in the last twelve hours?"

"Nope. Neither parent has left since I've been here. It's been dead quiet." Rigg was tapping his fingers on the open window sill of his door, eying Will where she stood by Hoffman's Crown Vic in his rearview. She looked like she had just crawled out of bed. "She all right?"

"She'll be fine. You should get out of here."

"Yeah. By the way, IA wants to talk to the both of us. Before Friday."

"I already filled out the affidavit."

"Yeah, but apparently the guy's lawyer's called. I-," Rigg lickedhis lips and looked up at him with that scared puppy dog look. "-I'm just-,"

"Remember?" He had to remind the guy. He kept his tone firm and his face expressionless. "He attacked first."

"Right. I'm not saying different," Daniel Rigg shook his head and spoke rapidly, "I just thought you'd want to know from me."

"Good. Get some rest. We'll meet with IA and this lawyer tomorrow. I'll take care of it." Hoffman already dreaded the politics he'd have to play. "Go home to Tracy."

Rigg nodded, shooting his colleague a smile as he cracked his neck and stretched his shoulders. The guy was fit, shoulders bulging against his pressed collar. What a waste, leaving him as a glorified security guard. "Thanks, Hoffman. I owe you."

"Damn right," Hoffman let himself smile back. He remembered patrol duty after getting on the bad side of Internal Affairs. It was hard to crawl out of that pit. "How long are you stuck staking domestics?"

"They didn't say. Sounds indefinite." There was no resentment, only a weary acceptance that Hoffman didn't want to hear. "But let's be real. I'm just happy to still have a job."

He remembered the feeling. He hated feeling so powerless when he was on probation. The kid was just starting off and already felt like this was all there was for him. It wasn't. Not even a long shot. "You've got potential, Rigg. Have you ever looked into SWAT?" The guy was impulsive and had a hero-complex. SWAT needed more brash boys eager to run towards the action.

Daniel Rigg considered this with a raised eyebrow and a distant curl of his lip. "Sure, it's something I always wanted to do when I was a kid. But you know it's competitive to get placed, Hoffman. I've caused too much trouble to get a recommendation."

"You're not blacklisted. Let me talk to the higher ups. I've gotten on Grissom's good side lately. I bet I can convince him to put you put up for the training. Might as well get you out of the car and into some action. If you can keep your head on straight from now on, that is."

The man's eyes shined. "You'd do that?"

"Sure." Hoffman's attention flashed back to Will, who was now approaching the two of them with pale green cheeks. "Maddox, you know Rigg?"

"Hey, Rigg." She had her hands in her pockets and gave the rookie a nod. "We've met." She was relatively cool to him, her normally friendly disposition unimpressed.

Rigg's eyes fluttered downward, as though ashamed, and avoided eye contact with her. He cleared his throat. "I'll be heading out." The man started his engine and pulled forward, leaving them in a plume of exhaust.

Hoffman turned to his partner. "What'd he do?"

"Heard he got off a brutality charge he wasn't supposed to. Word is, you were there?" Amber eyes laser focused onto him. "You two seem to get along."

"He did nothing wrong. And I was there. The guy threw the first punch. Rigg was just defending himself." He took a step towards her. "What else did you hear?"

She shrugged. "You know how people talk at the station, Hoffman. They said Rigg broke the guy's jaw and you're covering up for him."

"Who told you this?"

She bit her lower lip, hands folding across her chest. "I know it's not true. Right?" She looked desperate for him to tell her she was right.

"It's not." The lie rolled off his tongue so easy as he stared calmly down into her eyes. "You think I'd pull that shit?"

Relief blinked back at him. "No. I know you wouldn't. It's just some of the guys seem to have it in for you. I don't get it."

He already suspected who she was mentioning. Tapp. The man had been gunning for him for his own reasons. Reasons he didn't need to relive at that moment. And lately, the fucker was trying to take Maddox from him. He liked to take the fresh blood out into some suicide mission, the hero he was. This was all according to Matthews, at least. He wouldn't let that happen. Maddox was his partner. His. "Let's bring in the suspects."

Allison Kerry

Allison Kerry was staring at the corkboard that had various colored pins tacked on points of interest over the large paper grid of the city. She blew a strand of brown curls out of her face, frustration making her fingers twitch over her coffee mug.

"You literally have been standing there since I went on lunch," her partner, Eric Matthews, strode in with a brown bag of leftovers he nudged her with. "You're getting obsessed, Kerry."

She took the food and put it on the nearest desk. They were currently in Tapp and Sing's shared private office, a privileged workspace that Tapp had rebranded as their base of operations for taking down Toni Rosello.

Eric Matthews had been hesitant to join their squad, but Kerry always eventually convinced him to join her when she went on her side missions. She had understood his reservations. With the birth of Daniel and Karen's medical problems, Eric had a lot on his plate already. But she needed him. He was truly one hell of a cop. And there weren't a lot of those in the department these days. They needed all the help they could get.

Rosello was getting too powerful. The fat bastard kept leaving bodies in his wake and rubbing it in everyone's faces. Sadly, he paid his taxes, otherwise the Feds would get off their asses and do something about him.

It was just them against the most powerful man in the city. Herself, Sing, Tapp, Matthews, and now Maddox, were the only people willing to take a stand. Rosello owned most of the department already. There weren't a lot of them who were clean enough, family-free enough, or just plain mad enough to take him on.

"So what did Hoffman say?" Matthews leaned back in an office chair, propping his dress shoes on the desk. He folded his fingers over his head, his groomed hair getting messed from the pose.

"Nothing about wanting to work with us," Kerry didn't face her partner, instead opting to take some red string and wrap a connection between one of the brothels they had been monitoring with the latest string of missing underaged girls. "Just wanted his partner to move in with me."

Matthews snickered. "I can't believe he let her stay with him for as long as she did. Hoffman likes his solitude."

"Yeah. You two used to be close." She never dug with Matthews, waiting for him to get comfortable enough to open up when he wanted to. And he often wanted to.

"Class of '82. We graduated top of the class. We were the only ones to get excellents across all our examination categories."

Kerry smirked. Matthews loved to boast, the pride in his voice and the sound of the truth stretching like a rubber band always tickled her funny bone. "So what went wrong with Hoffman?"

"Well, his parents were killed in that accident right after we graduated. He never talked about it, but I think it was hard for him, you know. He was under a lot of pressure. He had a sister he wanted to help support. Didn't have anyone he trusted to dump his problems on. He had a lot of pent up anger and no way to let it out. And there was that whole crime wave going through. The budget cuts. We were all just thrown into the fire. Tons of MPD were getting hosed. So we started getting a little heavy handed. I got my rookie ass handed to Tapp who showed me the ropes and kept me straight. And Hoffman got assigned to… his partner. And his partner couldn't keep him in check very well. And you know the rest."

"Not really," Kerry muttered. "It's just ghost stories at this point. I've heard rumors about Hoffman decking Rosello at one point. I've also heard stories of Hoffman being Rosello's long lost cousin and is secretly helping the bastard fuck with us. Oh, and this one's everyone's favorite: Hoffman apparently pisses off Rosello to the point that he goes and murders his partner's entire family out of spite. And then his partner swallows a bullet from his own gun. Or that Hoffman was the one that did the job, since he works for Rosello. Frankly, I don't know what story to believe. But they all seem to paint this guy like Satan's buttplug."

Matthews pulled a pen out of his breast pocket and began spinning it in his hand. "Well, let's clear the air, then. Hoffman's partner was Detective Knox."

Kerry turned to stare at Matthews. "Victor Knox? He was Hoffman's partner? But he's not dead."

Matthews' eyes darted toward the door and Tapp stood in the doorway. "Yeah," Tapp whispered ominously. "He's not dead. But after what happened, most people here say it would have been better if he had died." Tapp stepped in, Sing at his heel. "Shut the door, Sing." His understudy obeyed, looking around at the faces with foreboding scrutiny. "Let's set the record straight. Hoffman didn't shoot Knox. In fact, those two still meet up once in a while, like old friends. At least, that's what Knox told me last week."

"So what happened?" Kerry had never known this story and was dying to know. She leaned against the nearest filing cabinet and eagerly listened.

Tapp shook his head, a jaded frown as he hummed deeply in recollection. "Well, Knox was a good man. One of the finest. He's a legend here, no matter how scared the younger folks are to mention his name, he's still a guy who had a hand in every major case when he was on the force. But when it came to Rosello," Tapp shook his head slowly, "no one could take down Rosello, not even Knox. In fact, Knox had been made an example of early on. It was Knox's job to… educate the rookies on how things were really run. Remember when Hoffman took you to meet Rosello?"

Kerry shuddered and nodded. "Oh yeah. Still pissed at the bastard for introducing me to him."

"Well, he didn't have much of a choice. You see, that used to be Knox's job. Knox took every new guy over to meet Rosello. And Rosello would do what he does. He likes to fuck with us. Make us feel helpless. And when it was Hoffman's first time he didn't like playing the game. He tried to get violent with the fucker. And that was enough for a full out war. Personally, I think the piece of shit was just bored and looking for an excuse to start up some violence to pass the time. Hoffman was just unlucky to be the target. Knox tried to step in but it ended up making things worse." Tapp rubbed the back of his neck and let out a sigh.

"What happened?" Kerry bowed her head, wanting to hear Tapp's softening voice more clearly.

"There was a shootout. Knox was hit, several shots in the gut and spine. Knox was bleeding out. Hoffman was scratched, but not badly hurt. Rosello threatened to take them all out, the two cops right there, and their entire families as well, unless Hoffman got on his knees and begged for mercy."

"So he did?"

"Well, obviously, since they're all alive and well. Knox's now paralyzed and lives on his own. He has a kid and - ex - wife, but they left town shortly after he got out of the hospital. Took his boy and moved to a small town in South Dakota. Knox refused to go with them, so she filed for divorce. Rosello leaves Knox alone now, according to the deal Hoffman made with him."

"Why didn't he go with them?" Matthews asked this, squinting at the veteran cop.

"Would you?" Tapp gave him a knowing stare, as though the question was just rhetoric.

Matthews nodded, voice forceful and offended at Tapp's implication. "Damn right, I'd be out. Can't put a price on family."

Kerry blinked and turned her head slightly. She hoped no one picked up on the guilt that spread like liquid lead in her veins. Her eyes locked onto Sing who pursed his lips slightly. He knew. She knew they all knew. The shame was her cross to bear.

"But see - Hoffman hadn't thought things through when he went and pissed off Rosello. See, Rosello likes to keep tabs on the new guys. Who they go home to after work. Where their favorite drinking holes are on Fridays. And Rosello had all the info he needed on Hoffman's little sister to suddenly make the man his bitch. So part of the deal was Hoffman being Rosello's errand boy from now on, otherwise not just Knox but Angelina Hoffman would both get taken out. That's why," Tapp turned to glare at Matthews, "we cannot - and I repeat - cannot involve Hoffman. I know he's not a bad kid. But we can't trust him. He's got too much to lose to flip on Rosello." Tapp kept his gaze locked on Matthews who rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut.

"That's why he's been stuck on paperwork duty until Maddox," Kerry concluded, shaking her head. "His career was sunk until she came along. Grissom was giving Hoffman a second chance by putting him back in the field with her." Her lips felt dry and she went to apply lip balm on them while considering her supervisor's motivations. He could have been left to rot in the basement until his pension came in at that rate. The thought of that fate made her want to blow her own brains out. She'd rather quit than be stuck on paperwork duty for twenty years.

"Maddox is key," Sing commented, as though trying to understand her involvement. "She may work with the guy but she's not dirty. She hates Rosello and wants to work for us. But still... aren't she and Hoffman close?" He pursed his lips and shook his head. "She must know what he's doing."

"Not that close," Kerry shook her head. "Sure, they get along. But the sexual tension between them makes it obvious they haven't crossed that line." She ignored Matthews' knowing stare as she added, "I'm sure Hoffman keeps her in the dark. And despite her being an investigator, I get some gullible vibes from her. Grissom swears she's so clean that she squeaks when she walks. And she seems to follow the book. She sounds like an idealist. If Hoffman has been going astray in front of her and she'd have known it, I bet she wouldn't stand for it long. Even if she didn't want to be a rat, she'd at least request reassignment." Kerry was sure of this, her gut never failed her.

"Well, make sure she's trustworthy before we give her the combo to the locker," Tapp thumbed their secret evidence locker where they had been stockpiling the entirety of their investigation pertaining to the crime boss securely where only the people in that room knew the code to access. "I'd hate to lose a year's worth of work."

"Yeah, you and me both." Kerry went to grab her jacket and cooled coffee and made her way out of the room. "I'll keep you posted. I'm sure she and I will get quite close now that we're living together," she gave a passive smirk over to Matthews who raised an eyebrow as she left the men be. "Page me if you need me."

When she walked down the narrow hallways, she stopped when she recognized the couple of the hour, both going into one of the interrogation rooms with a wiry older woman. It looked like Maddox was going to be a little busy for the next two hours. Checking her watch, Allison decided to head back to the boys and continue searching for patterns in the corkboard map.

Wilhelmina Maddox

"Hi, Mrs. Jefferson, my name's Wilhelmina Maddox. Can I call you Anna?" The woman nodded. "I just want you to know that I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable or scared. I'm trying to understand what happened. So. You've been read your rights. Are you aware that you have the right to an attorney?" The woman nodded again. "Can you please say it out loud, for the record?"

"Yes."

"And you waive your right?"

"Yes."

"Thank you. Now, if you happen to know anything, please, it would help us out a lot. Or if you know anything about where Kayla is," Will was playing her usual role as good cop, sliding the blown up school portrait of the young blonde girl smiling back towards the ceiling over to the woman. "I know you miss her. I know you're a good mother. I know you want her back home, safe. Can you help me make that happen?"

The woman was trembling, eyes watering. She said nothing.

"Yeah, you can sit back and keep silent," Hoffman had assumed his familiar patterns as the big bad cop. He slammed a fist down firmly on the metal table. "Because I know you're hiding something. And we have evidence that points to you being involved."

"No," the woman began to cry, sniffling and wiping her tears with the meat of her palm. Will nudged the box of tissues towards her, shooting Hoffman a warning glance to back off. He did, leaning back and letting out a deep breath. She bit her lip, feeling how close he was to slipping. His eyes had narrowed and his nostrils flared, making her heart race. She needed him to give them the room.

"Anna, what can you tell me about Kayla? Anything at all will help." She needed the mother's guard down but every couple of seconds, Anna Jefferson kept fluttering her wide eyes up to Hoffman's hulking mass and shrinking even deeper into her chair.

Will tried to keep the room calm but she could practically taste his hostility. He's always so gungho. Keeping her face on Anna, Will reached and tapped Hoffman's shoe with three firm taps.

The sound of his chair scraping against the concrete and the slamming of the door left the two women alone together. Will leaned forward and gently tapped the photograph. "Anna, look at me."

The woman was shaking like a leaf. Looking past greasy hair, Anna softly cried, "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because I didn't stop him."

"What did he do?" A shiver. A whimper. The mother began to let out a low wail. "Anna. I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you anymore. We have resources here to keep him far away from you. Help me find Kayla. We can bring her back and get you two far away from him."

The woman shook her head. "You can't."

"Believe me. I will do everything in my power to help you." Will knew it was unconventional to contact a suspect but she took the woman's shoulder and squeezed it gently. She was bony and cold. "Would you like a blanket?"

Anna blinked, then nodded. Will got up and went to the door. Hoffman was already there, blanket in hand. He had been just next door, behind the two-way mirror, ready to get her whatever she needed. They locked eyes, Will feeling the frustration burn into her. Shaking her head slightly, silently urging him for patience, she took the itchy fabric and closed the door before he let himself back in. He wanted control of the interrogation but it wouldn't be effective if she let him take the reins.

"Here," Will unfolded and handed the shield to her, "Anna, I know what it's like." She pulled her chair closer to her, leaning until their foreheads were practically touching, like schoolgirls sharing secrets. "You give everything to him. You want to believe that things will be different tomorrow. And he promises things will be different this time. And that if you try to leave," Will couldn't help but let her eyes wander to the mirror, looking at their reflection, "that you'll regret it more than if you just stayed." Most of her bruises had all but faded away but the person beside her still had her cast on her hand and purple splotches that brought her back to just a few weeks ago. Her throat stung. "But if you keep protecting him, he will still be the death of you. You understand?"

Tears gushed down her cheeks and she choked out, "He took her one night. He said she was going away. To not ask, that it was best for all of us."

"Did he say where? Why?"

"He owed some money. Kayla was going to work for a family. Pay off the debt." The woman covered her face with her good hand, shuddering. "But that's bullshit. I know it's bullshit. I let him take her away." She let out a low moan. "But he never told me where. He doesn't tell me anything. Oh my God, she's dead. I know she is."

Will went to her knees and put her arms around her. "You don't know that yet. We'll find her." Over the woman's shoulder, her reflection mocked her. A clown, fighting tears, stared back.