"What a bummer!"

Nikki had carelessly bumped her foot against one of the boxes immediately after she had rushed into the hallway of the house she and Mike had moved into a few months after their wedding. She tore the jacket off her body, threw it into the corner, and dropped her house key with a clatter onto the shoe cupboard next to the front door. Why were these stupid moving boxes still standing around here? Why hadn't she cleared out the bulky things long ago?

Is it really that difficult? I still need to register at the new address and put my name on it. Strictly speaking, I don't even live here yet!"

It had been six weeks since Mike and Nikki had moved into their new home in South End.

She had upgraded from her apartment to a house. It was a little small but in a good location, even if it was a lot more expensive than her previous home. After all, with her and Mike's income, it hadn't been particularly difficult to get the go-ahead for the cozy little house in the quiet, middle-class corner of Boston. And that was even though several applicants had tried.

But with two cops, the residential area is even safer. At least this job gave me an advantage for once ...

Okay, maybe it wasn't just Nikki's job that had helped her get the purchase contract. That annoying estate agent had also looked meaningfully at her, especially when he thought the detective wouldn't notice. As if she was the only woman in her late twenties who kept fit by exercising and taking care of her appearance. But suppose Nikki's job and looks helped her get a desirable and reasonably affordable property in a good location. In that case, the estate agent should imagine what he wanted before he went to sleep. At least then, he would think about something other than collecting high commissions for superfluous services.

"Are you home yet, Mike?"

Of course, he was. The lights were on, music was playing from the speakers in the living room, and it smelled of roasting meat and spices. Unlike her, Mike had gone straight home, not wanting to think with bad-tempered colleagues about what would happen if the operation failed just because they had acted hastily and couldn't save those children.

He was so reliable, trustworthy, and, above all, stunningly attractive that Nikki threw all her professional reservations overboard and got involved with Mike during her very first homicide investigation, where he had been helping out.

"That was a real shit day!" Breathing heavily, she sank onto the chair that was supposed to help her put her shoes on but mainly served as a place to put the bin bags that had to be taken to the garbage cans outside the house. Just then, she heard the sound of footsteps coming towards her from the kitchen.

"You can say that again." Mike leaned against the doorframe and smiled sympathetically.

Nikki smiled for the first time in hours. There it was again, that sideways voice, not too high or too low. Determined and with precise intonation, so warm and sonorous that his every word sounded almost like a love song.

She made a face as she took his outstretched hand, and he pulled her to her feet to go into the kitchen with him. "This bum acts like he doesn't have a clue! Yet we've got him for kidnapping and murder by the balls; he'd really have every reason to cooperate. Instead, his lawyer is slamming the file of my case in my face and making me look like an idiot who's talking crazy shit he dreamed of while taking a nap. And rightly so, Mike. This case is completely absurd and impossible!"

Mike spread his arms before she could sit down again in the kitchen. "Come here!"

Nikki gratefully accepted the invitation and let her husband pull her close to his warm, trained body, breathing in his scent deeply with her eyes closed. How wonderfully safe it felt to be embraced by him and to swirl up his longing-awakening scent with the breeze of his touch. "What a shitty case, why do I have to get it?"

"Because you're the best detective in Homicide, why else?" Mike pressed a soft kiss to the back of Nikki's neck.

She was silent momentarily before saying, "This case is totally mysterious, and I'm not even sure if Sokolov is really involved anymore. Not since I found out that I know the Pope. At least somehow."

Nikki looked at her husband as she put her hands around his waist. And there it was again, that smile. That was exactly how he'd smiled at her when he'd asked her out again, and she hadn't turned him down when it turned out that Mike had nothing to do with the murders she was investigating. And he had smiled the same way he was smiling now—very discreetly.

"But I hope the Pope isn't coming for dinner tonight." Mike gestured to the stove. "I've only cooked for two."

Nikki finally laughed. How he had managed that again! He brightened up the world with his presence alone and showed her that there was no problem so bad that it would make you stop laughing. She brought her nose close to Mike's neck, savored his scent again, and finally released herself from the embrace. "Not even the Pope could help me! The one we're looking for hasn't just kidnapped the boys that no search party can find. He also managed to do something physically impossible. And so far, there is absolutely no motive for his actions. Instead, these seven boys are still missing, and journalists and angry citizens are constantly standing outside the BPD, demanding that we finally find the children. It's a good thing our new address isn't known; at least they won't be standing outside our house. Mike, these guys are hoping to be rescued, and apart from my team and me, no one else can help them. I'm completely at a loss and don't know what to do! While I'm sitting here eating, the boys are somewhere in their hiding place, desperately hoping that someone will find them. It's hell; I can't sleep properly because of it!" And her laughter was gone again.

Mike stepped away from his wife and went to the fridge. He took out a bowl containing a viscous, yellow mass. He entered the bowl with his index finger and brought it to Nikki's mouth. She licked the finger. "Homemade vanilla ice cream!" Mike beamed at Nikki. "This goes in our ice cream machine after the main course. I'm telling you, there's nothing better than fresh ice cream out of the machine."

Nikki struggled to smile. "You're adorable! But not even the best ice cream in the world gives me any idea how that murderer could have pulled it all off. Or why."

"But you and your team are investigating with the best experts in the country; I know that from my own experience. Are you telling me none of them knew how this guy could have pulled off this ominous miracle?"

Nikki rolled her eyes. "We've even consulted professional magicians as experts on the matter. All their theories keep clashing with the facts. What this man has managed to do is simply not possible!"

Mike tenderly grabbed Nikki's chin, lifted her head slightly, and stroked her cheek. "And what about the one person you haven't approached yet?"

Nikki squirmed out of his grasp. "Forget it. She hasn't been with BPD for four years; she's completely withdrawn. She wants nothing more to do with murder and crime, and I can understand her."

"But if this case is puzzling, she could be just the right person. She can't just abandon these boys because she's suffering from world-weariness. Have you at least asked her?"

Nikki leaned against the worktop where all sorts of scraps of chopped vegetables and filleted meat lay. "She wouldn't help me. Besides, I don't feel like coming to her like a little girl and asking her for help. I'm not stupid. Why can't I work out for myself how the kidnapper did it?"

This time, Mike rolled his eyes. "Don't be so vain," he replied and smiled again, unperturbed. "Do you really think I'm just going to watch this case fuck you up? How the media and the lynch mob out there will blame you for these boys not being found? How you might be putting their lives on your conscience just because you wouldn't even ask your mom for advice? What have you got to lose?"

Nikki remained silent. What could she say? Mike was exemplary with every word. He was always right, and that's what she loved about him. That he thought before he spoke. He weighed things up, put himself in everyone's shoes, and drew reasonable and measured conclusions.

"All right, I've got nothing to lose." Nikki gave Mike a kiss. "I'm going to see her tomorrow. I'm begging for help from the only woman who might really be able to help. And who has told me clearly a hundred times that she never wants to be confronted with any crimes again. What a suicide mission!"