"Did he have a gun?"

Tilt your head. Look down. Open your mouth like you're going to say something. Shake your head.

"No. I didn't see one."

"He didn't see anyone else either. Come on, Jennifer, he's a lying b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Walter spat as he marched across the room.

"Then you're done with me, right?" Jack stood up.

"Sit your a.s.s down, Stratton."

"Make me," Jack smirked as he held his hands out.

Prescott shook his head. "I can make you. You ever want to wear a badge again?" Now he smiled a snide grin. "Sit down and keep talking."

"Charge me or call a lawyer. I'm done."

Jennifer's mouth fell open.

Prescott stared at him. "Seriously? You lawyer up, and your career's over."

"As you said, it already is. Right now Marisa is out there, and I'm the only one looking for her."

"You're an idiot, Stratton." Prescott rolled his eyes. "You'd rather throw your career away along with any hope of finding Marisa?"

"I'm going to find her but not by sitting here and talking to you about it. Are you going to charge me?"

Prescott looked at the two-way mirror, and then back at Jack.

"I didn't think so."

Jack walked out the door.

Like a baby?

Jack sat outside the processing office for fifteen minutes. Finally, the door opened and he marched over to the desk and looked down at a thin middle-aged woman with shoulder-length brown hair. He glanced at her name tag: Shelia Hardy.

He knew Shelia but not her last name. She always gave him a friendly wave in the hallway.

"Officer Stratton." She didn't look up as she pushed a small package of papers toward him. "Please sign."

As Jack looked down, he had to force himself to keep from hanging his head. He signed the papers, set down the pen, and looked up.

Shelia's shoulders slumped and she mumbled, "Thank you."

Jack spun on his heel. He left the door open and marched out of the office. He could feel everyone's eyes on him as he stormed down the corridor.

He headed straight to Evidence to get his belongings. His nostrils flared and his lips pressed into a thin line. Stopping in front of a counter with a gla.s.s slider, he rang the bell.

Bill walked over with a manila envelope. "I went and checked on your gun, but they took it to ballistics."

Jack stood and stared at Bill Robertson. Jack knew Bill. Jack had given him tips at the shooting range. He had helped fix Bill's car. Jack had even helped him move. But right now, Jack glared at his friend.

"It's my gun, Bill."

Bill's hands went up and out. "Jack, it's not here. They took it to ballistics."

Don't. It's not Bill's fault.

Jack took the manila envelope and looked inside. "Where's my phone?"

"Information Services. They have to review it."

Jack grabbed his wallet and put the empty envelope down on the counter.

Bill gulped. "Sorry."

"Not your fault, Bill."

Jack headed back to the first floor and the entrance. The big double doors swooshed open and the cold air slapped him in the face.

He inhaled deeply.

"Jack. Jack."

He heard Jennifer calling his name as he stormed out of the police station, but he didn't turn around.

"Jacka.s.s," she growled as she ran up next to him.

Jack glared down at her.

"I'm not your enemy. Can I remind you I tried to help out?"

"What do you want?"

"How about we start with, do you need a ride home?" She smiled.

Jack took a deep breath. "I'd have called for a ride if you hadn't taken my phone."

Jennifer shook her head. "You should be glad Collins let you go, Jack. Your phone's at IT and your gun's at Ballistics."

Jack cracked his neck.

Glad I left the burner in the Impala.

"I don't need a ride, and I don't need the good cop/bad cop routine."

"Jack, I'm not playing you or doing that. Listen, I think Walter can help. Really."

Jack stopped and raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

She nodded. "I have an idea. Can I drive you home, and we can talk on the way? Please?"

Jack stood on the sidewalk and searched her face. Jennifer's lips pressed together, and she tilted her head.

"Fine."

"I'm in the garage."

They turned and walked to the three-story parking garage across the street. Jennifer's heels clicked on the cement, and Jack waited for her to do the talking.

"If someone called the Mancinis, they're going to call again. We have Severino under constant surveillance. Paolo was his enforcer. His death is going to shake things up." She smiled hopefully.

"Shake things up, or apart?"

Jack grabbed the railing and took the stairs two at a time.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Jennifer huffed, "If you'd give me a second, I can explain."

Jack spun around and waited. She grabbed the railing, pulling herself up the last two steps, and stood there panting, trying to catch her breath.

"We've been monitoring..." Her voice trailed off and Jack saw all the color drain from her face.

Jack's head whipped around to see what had her so spooked. He immediately noticed a man stopped between two cars.

Asian. Medium build. Spiky hair.

"GUN," Jennifer screamed.

Jack instinctively moved back and reached for his own weapon.

d.a.m.n. I'm unarmed.

Jack moved to get out of Jennifer's way to give her a clear shot, but she grabbed Jack by his shoulders and yanked him backward.

She didn't draw her gun.

As Jack pitched toward the stairs, he reached for the railing. Jennifer crashed into him, her arms wrapping around his waist.

"GET DOWN," she screamed as they both were launched headfirst down the steps.

Trying to cushion her fall, Jack landed hard on his shoulder as he pulled Jennifer against him. They slid down the remaining concrete steps and crashed into the landing.

Jack struggled to pull himself free and grab her gun from the holster.

"Give me your gun," Jack roared as Jennifer rolled in the other direction.

"I have it," she snarled as she pulled herself free and stood up.

She took one step, cried out in pain, and pitched forward.

Jack grabbed her shoulder, flipped her onto her back, and yanked her gun out of the holster. He aimed at the top of the stairs and tried to steady his breathing.

Tires squealed from the top level, and Jack jumped over Jennifer and raced up the stairs. He only saw the rear end of a sedan turning the corner and heading for the exit.

Public garage. Two exits. One is automated.

He sprinted left. When he reached the edge of the building, he grabbed the ledge and peered over. He could hear the echo of the car fade and realized he had picked the wrong side.

NO.

Jack let fly a string of obscenities as he screamed at the sky. He raced back over to the staircase as Jennifer limped into view. Her face said it all. She was fighting back tears, and he was sure they weren't from pain.

"Come on." Jack ran over and put his arm around her waist.

"We need to call it in," she said.

"No." Jack's voice was cold, and Jennifer froze.

Her feet dragged across the cement as he kept moving for her car.

"Jack, we need to call this in."

When they reached her car, she pulled herself away and leaned heavily against it.

"You can't. You need to trust me. Give me your keys." Jack held his hand out.

Jennifer glanced around, and her eyebrows squeezed together. She swallowed and stared at Jack. She dropped the keys into his hand. "Are you going to clue me in?"

"Yeah. Later. Get in."

Jack moved over to the driver's seat and slid it back as Jennifer got in the car. He backed her sedan up and headed down to the manager's office on the north side. As Jack hopped out, he could see a teenager and a guy in his late fifties having an animated conversation.

Jack rapped on the window and they both jumped.

"What?" the older man snarled as he slid the window open.

"I need to see your security cameras."

"I told you so." The teenager wobbled his head as he spoke.

"Shut up," the older man growled and then turned to Jack. "I wish we could see them, too, so you could nail that jerk that just hauled a.s.s out of here."

"None of the cameras work?"

"None of them," the teenager called out.

d.a.m.n.