I NEED A FAVOR

"Gentlemen, thank you for meeting with me today rather than on our regularly scheduled meetings. I'll be unavailable the rest of the week." Mayor Brodie Lee smiled as he sat down. "I'm taking my wife on a short anniversary trip while my in-laws watch the boys." He waved a hand towards the side table. "There's coffee if anyone wants it."

Dean Malenko and Adam Cole both shook their heads. "Any place special?" Cole asked.

Brodie sighed. "She's always wanted to go to New York. Personally, I don't see the attraction but…" He shrugged with a smile. "I've gotten us tickets to a couple of shows. I hope they're worth the cost."

Despite himself, Malenko smiled. "I'm sure she appreciates it, sir."

"She deserves it for putting up with me," Brodie ruefully admitted. He looked up as his assistant opened the door. "Mr. Roode is here, Mayor Lee."

"Thank you. Please send him in." When Roode entered the office and shut the door behind him, Brodie leaned back in his chair. "District Attorney Adam Cole. Chief of Police Dean Malenko. This is the City Financial Officer, Robert Roode. I asked him to sit in on part of this meeting. Coffee, Robert?"

"No, thanks," Roode chuckled as the three men shook hands. "I'm saving my daily quota for after this meeting."

As Roode sat down and prepared to take notes, Brodie glanced at the paper in front of him.

"First on the agenda," he began. "As you know, we reached a settlement in the Ellsworth matter. As I understand it, that's the last of the open cases corrupted by the late Swagger and Colter." He looked at Cole. "Can you advise us on the status of any other open investigations?"

Cole cleared his throat. "We submitted a total of sixteen cases for independent DNA verification. There were petitions from almost one hundred other cases, but we've confirmed neither Swagger nor Colter touched those." He briefly leaned forward. "Of the sixteen under review, five cases have been resolved. In three of them, the independent DNA analysis showed the men convicted were guilty. In two of them, the convicted men were exonerated."

"Ellsworth and Moxley," Brodie nodded. "So, we potentially have eleven more cases where we would be paying out financial restitution."

"At worst," Cole nodded. "Going by the math, maybe five." He smiled when Malenko grunted.

"Robert, I asked you here because, as we all know, the city's insurance will handle the restitutions. But the insurance premiums are going to increase." Brodie looked at Roode. "Any idea what we're looking at?"

"The good news is that the current insurance premiums are locked in for another fourteen months. After that, the contract goes out for competitive bidding," Roode explained. "The bad news is that our current carrier will at least double the premiums. And, by that time, it won't be a secret that we've been paying out millions is restitution. So, anyone bidding on that contract isn't going to come in very much lower…if at all."

"We have no choice about those restitutions," Brodie firmly stated. "And I am committed to not cutting services or personnel…or their benefits. So, gentlemen, any suggestions?"

"Unfortunately, neither Swagger nor Colter had any estate that we could sue for damages," Cole said after a few seconds. "The former District Attorney doesn't have much, but we could try there once he's convicted of malfeasance."

"Not much would be left after he spends it on his defense," Roode pointed out.

Cole nodded in silent agreement.

"What is the status of our contract on providing police equipment such as vests, weapons, and such?" Malenko quietly spoke.

Brodie turned to his computer and logged in. "We will be soliciting competitive bids in three months. The contract expires in six." He looked over the monitor at Malenko. "You have an idea?"

"The current contract is for three years, correct?" Malenko asked in return. When Brodie nodded, Malenko explained, "Earlier this year, I attended a law enforcement conference in Seattle. At one of the break-out sessions, we were given a demonstration of some new CSI technology. I passed that on to my department. The vendor was 3C Resources who are headquartered in Seattle."

Cole looked interested. "I've heard of them." When Malenko nodded, he continued, "The company was set up decades ago by some ex-Army officers. Most likely special ops. It was originally called Resources United. They did a lot of research and development to provide law enforcement with the best possible equipment. After the original founders either died of old age or retired, the company was restructured as 3C Resources. Supposedly, the 3C stands for 3 Cousins. Although they're not related by blood, those running the business now are the sons of the founders. I guess they consider themselves family."

"There's actually four cousins, but the fourth doesn't have any specific position in the company," Malenko added. "They're highly respected but expensive as hell. And their products are damn near perfect." He stared into Brodie's eyes. "And they will work with law enforcement budgets however they can. The person who runs the company now is a former cop himself."

Brodie tapped his forefinger on the top of his desk. "You think we could contact this company, explain the circumstances and see if they'd be willing to…what?...bid on the contact?"

"Would they be willing to take a loss?" Roode asked in surprise.

Malenko shrugged. "How tight could we make that contract?"

Cole grinned. "Without being illegally restrictive?" He leaned back in his chair. "We can write the contract to clearly defined specifications. Do their competitors have the same equipment?"

"Not as good as theirs," Malenko answered.

"Mr. Cole, you're taking on the work of the City Attorney right now," Brodie pointed out. "Could you write the contract to the exact specifications of the products of 3C?"

Cole rubbed his jaw as he thought. "By law, the contracts go to the lowest bidder. However, we are not obligated to purchase inferior equipment just because of the low bid." He pointed out the window. "Every street light pole in this city was purchased to detailed specifications regarding strength of the material and their ability to withstand a certain wind mph. Any company who couldn't meet that specification either didn't bid or was rejected. And that was written into the bid request."

"But it could be contested in court?" Roode challenged.

Cole's blue eyes were cold even as he smiled. "Anything can be challenged in court. However, my question to the Court would be 'Why should we be obligated to purchase equipment that would endanger our personnel when we can purchase equipment that would protect them?' We could also make it more attractive to 3C if we write the contract for five years rather than the standard three."

"Chief Malenko, do you have a contact with this company?" Brodie asked.

"I've got the card from the conference," Malenko nodded.

Brodie glanced at Roode who nodded. Then he looked at Cole.

"You know where I stand," Cole quietly spoke.

Brodie then firmly nodded. "Chief, please email me the contact information as well as any information you have on this company. I'll set up a meeting for a demonstration."

"Please keep me informed," Roode requested. "If that's all I'm needed for?"

"Yes, thank you, Robert." Brodie stood and stook the man's hand. Once the door was closed behind Roode, he sat back down. "Hopefully, we can get through the rest of these items fairly quickly. Are we clear on the Lesnar murder?"

"Completely," Malenko firmly answered. "The DA in Moline lost jurisdiction over it to the Feds. I'll be greatly surprised if we hear anything more about it."

"Good," Brodie nodded. "What about the Wyatt murder?"

"Headed for the Cold Case file," Malenko grumbled. "We sent the tape to the FBI to see if they could do something with that electronically altered voice and/or clear up the grainy footage. But nothing on the voice and not much on the footage. We've used CrimeStoppers more than once but haven't got a nibble."

Brodie quickly smiled. "Keep that in mind for our discussions with 3C. Perhaps they have a solution." He looked at Cole. "We could write up a consulting type of contract on a one-time basis?"

Cole immediately nodded.

"What about the assassinations of the late Mayor Heyman and Mrs. Evans?"

"All in the hands of the Feds," Cole answered. "Both Baszler and Rousey have lawyered up and refused to answer questions or cooperate. Since they're allegedly tied to assassinations in other countries, the State Department is negotiating with those governments over who gets to try them first."

Brodie rubbed his forehead. "Please stay in that loop. I don't want us to be left out because those in Washington consider us a dispensable bargaining chip."

"Yes, sir," Cole firmly promised.

"Anything new on the Friedman murder?" Brodie looked at Malenko.

"According to the information provided by the DOJ, Ric Flair shot Friedman then dumped him into the Atlantic," Malenko reported. "However, Flair's currently under psych evaluations by both prosecution and defense. I have a good friend involved in that investigation, and he's promised to keep me informed."

Brodie nodded. "Please extend my gratitude to him for his efforts." He hesitated, then continued, "I haven't seen any announcement of a memorial service for Mr. Friedman."

Malenko sighed. "It's on hold. His mother suffered a nervous breakdown because of this. She…hasn't fully recovered."

Brodie heavily sighed. "Do either of you gentlemen have children?" he asked after a few seconds. When they shook their heads, Brodie stared out the window. "I have two sons. And I like to think I'm a good influence on them…trying to raise them to be good men. Along with my wife, of course." He shook his head. "I'm sure Friedman's parents did the same. Then something like this happens, and we wonder where we went wrong…what happened." He shook his head. "Forgive me, gentlemen, for…well, just two more items." He returned his attention to his list. "What about the Ambrose murders?"

"Jack Ambrose was allegedly murdered because he failed to pay his gambling debts," Malenko began. "However, we've found no evidence of him gambling at either the local casino or any of the alleged gambling halls. Surprisingly, neither the Authority nor the Bloodline have pointed fingers at the other as being responsible."

Brodie blinked in surprise. "That's…unusual?"

"Very unusual," Malenko grimly nodded. "Usually, they can't wait to accuse the other side."

"Perhaps Mr. Ambrose gambled elsewhere?" Brodie suggested.

"His whereabouts while in Davenport are pretty much confirmed," Malenko replied. "We checked with the small casino in Moline but didn't find any evidence he ever stepped foot in that place. He could have driven to Chicago for some late-night gambling, but we have nothing there either."

Brodie leaned back in his chair. "So, you think this gambling debt never existed; and he was murdered for a different reason?"

"What I think doesn't matter, sir. It's what we can prove."

"And Mrs. Ambrose?"

Malenko glanced at Cole. "The Des Moines PD have confirmed the press pass found in her wallet is a fake. The so-called news organization is nothing more than a rented space to receive mail at a UPS store in Los Angeles. An investigation by the LAPD resulted in getting a copy of the money order for one month's rental. They got a copy of the rental agreement, but it's been a dead end. The Des Moines PD have been waiting on the final toxicology reports. I got a phone call just before coming here that those reports are in, and they are requesting our assistance in interviewing Jon Moxley." He glanced again at Cole who barely nodded. "It's possible that both murders are connected in some way. The obvious way would be these alleged gambling debts. However, since we can't prove these debts even exist, if they are connected, it's possible it's a connection through Jon Moxley."

Brodie sharply looked at both men. "How?" he harshly demanded.

"Unknown…if that connection exists," Cole smoothly answered. "But it's a possibility that must be explored."

Brodie grimaced. "Then allow me to muddy the waters even further, gentlemen. How much do you know about the MDM foundation and their new facility?"

"Nothing's crossed my desk about it," Cole admitted.

"Mine either," Malenko added.

"I had a meeting yesterday with the two gentlemen who are the Directors. Mr. Seth Rollins and Mr. Roman Reigns." Brodie slightly smiled as the other two men exchanged a long silent look. "The seed money is from Mr. Moxley's settlement from the city and is named in honor of his deceased sister who died as an infant."

"Holy shit," Cole muttered. Then, catching the look on Brodie's face, he quickly added, "My apologies, Mr. Mayor."

"Why the meeting?" Malenko asked.

"They explained their primary purpose was to help get kids off the street," Brodie explained. "As you know, very few of them trust law enforcement and view CPS and foster care with as much fear as they do the sexual predators." He raised a hand as both men started to speak. "A debate about that is for another time and place." When both men settled back in their chairs, he continued, "I was given a tour of the facility and was most impressed. They've received donations from other charities and appear to be well-funded. They have an infirmary and medical staff on site 24/7. I didn't ask, but I presume that also means a psychologist or psychiatrist as well." He ruefully smiled, "And I'm sure a legal presence. There's also an on-site cafeteria, basketball court, swimming pool as well as a designated space for the arts. In addition, Mr. Rollins has promised tutoring services in an attempt to help these kids get a GED. There is also a plan to involve the local technical school to help them learn a trade." He shrugged. "All in all, gentlemen, this is something I see of great value and potential. But they realize they could be running up against SVU and CPS so they're requesting a meeting to resolve any issues now."

"I can think of quite a few," Cole admitted.

Brodie nodded. "Agreed. I'll be back in the office next Monday. I'd like to set up that meeting for that day. Please check your calendars as I'd like both of you to attend. Chief Malenko, I'd appreciate it if you would also have a ranking officer from SVU and CPS to attend."

"I'd also like an investigator from both units," Malenko suggested. "They would provide another viewpoint that I think would be important to consider."

Brodie nodded. "Excellent suggestion. I leave that to you."

"What about security?" Cole asked. "If some of these kids have fallen into bad hands, those hands might not want to just let them walk away."

"Mr. Reigns assured me there would be proper security for the facility," Brodie calmly answered. "Is there anything else?" When both men shook their heads, he rose and held out his hand. "Thank you, gentlemen. I appreciate your work and efforts. Please get back to me as soon as possible so I can schedule this meeting."

Outside in the hallway, Cole crookedly grinned at Malenko. "Reigns promised 'proper security', huh? Guess we know where that'll come from. Wonder if this foundation is a cover for recruiting?"

Malenko grunted. As far as he was concerned, anything was possible.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Got a minute?"

Roman looked up to see Jericho in the doorway. "Sure. Give me a couple of seconds to get rid of this tie."

Jericho smirked as watched the tie was flung to a nearby chair to join the suit jacket.

Roman waved a hand towards Jericho's usual chair as he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his white dress shirt as well as the cuffs. Then he sat down with a sigh. "Much better," he muttered before looking at Jericho. "Problem?"

Jericho shook his head and handed a folder across the desk. "A report on Barrett's employer."

Roman scowled at the mention of Wade Barrett. 'Still think making that SOB disappear is an option.' He put the folder on his desk. "Give me the highlights, and I'll study this later."

Jericho leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on his lap. "The station is financially sound. Gets good ratings which means it's a valuable asset to the corporation which owns it. The station manager is Billy Gunn who, despite the 'Billy' is a middle-aged man. He came through the news division and started in Austin before being transferred to stations in Salt Lake, Pittsburgh, Nashville and Tacoma."

"Troublemaker getting bounced around?"

Jericho shook his head. "He was good. Solid in his reporting and could connect with the audiences. Apparently, the corporation sent him to stations that needed a boost in ratings either in their news broadcasts or overall. During those times, he started learning how to manage the station. Before coming here, he was in Tacoma where he split his time having his own time slot to focus on people and issues and serving as assistant station manager. He's been here for the last four years. Came in as someone who would make 'special reports' but was slotted by the corporation to take over as manager." He pointed to the folder. "Check out the photo in the back of the file."

Frowning, Roman found the photo of a smiling teenaged girl with golden brown hair and dark brown eyes.

"She was a street kid going by the name of Angel," Jericho continued. "Real name is Tiffany Rogers and from just outside Richmond, Virginia. Gunn found her pan-handling and made friends with her. Bought her meals. Gave her some money to get a place to sleep. In return, she gave him information about life and the dangers on the street. He ran a five-part expose pretty much on the failure of everybody to keep these kids safe."

"I think I remember Dad mentioning that…just before he died," Roman quietly spoke.

"The expose got a lot of exposure, and the politicians all talked about how something should be done but…" Jericho expressively shrugged.

"What happened to her?" Roman asked.

"Gunn had an affair with her."

"WHAT?!" Roman exploded.

"Claimed she told him she was nineteen. She was actually fifteen."

Roman stared again at the photo. "No way she even looks like she's nineteen! Does she look nineteen to you?"

"Hell, no. My daughters are seventeen and look older than she does."

Roman glanced up. To look at Jericho, he seemed calm and uninvolved. But the man's voice made that a lie. "And then?" Roman growled.

"Gave her some money and told her she needed to leave Davenport."

Roman looked into Jericho's eyes. "What happened to her?"

"Wound up in Las Vegas. Seedy side of the Strip. Took too much meth and flaked out. Walked in front of a bus and died on impact. Just past sixteen years old." Jericho warily watched Roman as he battled for control.

"Leave."

Jericho immediately stood up at the snarled command.

"Jericho." When Jericho turned around, he saw the icy fury in Roman's grey eyes. "This piece of shit is more useful to me alive rather than dead. For now."

"Understood."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Seth was startled when Kevin suddenly jumped up, began barking, then running out of the office. As he stood, he heard footsteps when his wife's voice.

"Hello, Kevin! Did you miss me?"

Seth folded his arms and leaned against the door jam, watching as Nikki lovingly caressed Mitch's leaves while Kevin danced around her feet.

"Both the children have been watered and fed," Seth seriously reported. "Mitch got some sunlight when I took Kevin out for a walk." He grinned and walked across the living room to give her a hug and kiss. "You're home early."

"Boss kicked me out," Nikki grumbled. "Said I needed to spend some time at home. Told me he didn't want to see me for a few days."

"Well, you have been awfully busy between the business and the foundation," Seth pointed out as he took her purse and laptop case from her.

"There's just so much…"

"I know. Believe me, I know." Seth carefully sat her down on the couch and knelt to pull her shoes from her feet. He snickered at the groan of relief as Nikki wiggled her toes. "Um…I need a favor?"

"Sure," Nikki quickly nodded.

Seth sat cross-legged on the floor next to the couch. "Umm…there's something I haven't told you. I…uh…I write books."

Nikki blinked at him. "Books? What kind of books?"

"Guess it's best if I show you." Seth got to his feet and walked back into his office.

Kevin jumped onto the couch next to Nikki who stared at him then at Mitch. "Did the two of you know about this?"

Kevin whined and lowered his head. Mitch looked resigned.

Nikki's attention was returned to Seth who carried an armful of books. He carefully sat them on the floor then separated them into stacks. "I started writing while in college. Mostly for fun, then I thought…well, what the hell…and sent a manuscript to a publisher." He chuckled. "Much to my surprise…and shock, it was accepted." He handed Nikki one of the books. "It was this one."

"Murder in the Big Easy?" Nikki looked at her husband in puzzlement. "You're Colby Lopez?"

Seth nodded. "Pen name. That book was followed by this one." He handed her a second book.

"Death Comes Easy." Nikki eyed the other books. "And those?"

"I got tired of writing murder mysteries so I tried something else…a couple of something elses," Seth admitted. "But now I'm back to the murder mystery. Can you read this manuscript? I need fresh eyes."

"Do I need to read the first two?" Nikki asked, glancing at the bound typed pages in her hand. "Messiah in the Big Easy," she mumbled.

"Probably a good idea since there are reoccurring characters and plots," Seth admitted. "But I'm more interested in your take on this one."

Nikki held out her hand for the other two books. "Put the others on the side table," she ordered. "I'll get to them later." She reclined on the couch and opened the first book.

'New Orleans is a myth. Or a mirage. Whichever you prefer to call it. I call it a lie. Tourists see only what they want to see. A party city where commercialized 'voodoo' is hawked and peddled to people who should know better. If you want to see the real New Orleans, become a member of the NOPD. I did.'