Y'all are getting 14.5K words because I didn't want to leave the end of one of these episodes hanging to conclude next time. And I really wanna get back to Law & Order episodes, so . . . crunch time! XD

Greg and Jason are dogs chasing a bone on this case, a police captain two detectives and a patrol officer take over a case, it's Nolan's turn to be the interrogator, Pelham can be a mother hen, no one should ever put Owen Olivia and Elliot in the same car, and as the New Yorkers prepare to head home, Wendy learns something that's going to send her on a course that readers have asked me about since last book.

Enjoy "Whom Shall I Fear?" and the rest of "Child Care!"

***

The mood in the firehouse once the sun had risen was melancholy, and while no words were said, the actions of the firefighters spoke volumes. They all seemed to join their own little groups: TK had somehow commandeered Judd's attention, and Frank watched with fond amusement as the 2IC of Ladder 126 kept the 2IC of Squad 9 to his side like a big brother would do with his little one. Buck and Eddie had crashed in the bunks at once, and he had seen Nancy's bun peeking out from the covers of another one nearby. The captains had vanished to their offices to write their reports, and Marjan, Paul, and Mateo were whispering together as they restocked their rigs, always gravitating to each other during their breaks.

Lily had curled up on one of the couches with her arms around her legs, her eyes fixated on some random spot on the floor. Not long after Frank had sat next to her, she had plastered herself to his side, her nose buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arm around his daughter and held her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He had known when he agreed to let Lily observe the shift that there was a chance they could roll up to a call that did not have a happy ending. He just wished that call hadn't involved the death of a child.

Shortly after Lily had sought his comfort, he felt the couch ever so slightly jolt with weight being pushed against it, and Frank realized what it was when he peered down to the floor. Griffin and Ben had dropped to sit against the couch at Lily's feet, the boys each with a mug of what smelled like cocoa cradled in their hands. They sat on either side of Lily, Ben checking to make sure he wasn't in Frank's way before he scooted back against the couch. No sooner had they sat than did Sylvie appear, a small smile on her face as she looked at Lily. "May I join you?" she asked softly. Lily sniffed and nodded, and Sylvie sat on her other side, two mugs in her hands. She offered one to Lily, and the girl raised her head from Frank's chest to examine what was being offered. "Lieutenant Herrmann back in Chicago swears by this cocoa recipe," Sylvie explained. "And he has an entire clan of kids, so . . . "

Frank saw a ghost of a smile on Lily's face as she carefully took the mug, and she was quick to settle back against him as she sipped the drink. Frank rubbed his hand up and down Lily's arm as she began to settle, and it was only when Nolan sat on the other side of Sylvie that the homicide detective spoke. "Thank you, Sylvie."

"You're welcome," Sylvie smiled, taking a sip of her own cocoa. "I'm just sorry that's how the call ended. I hoped neither Lily nor the Dardens would see something like that."

"It comes with the job, Sylvie," Griffin shook his head as he looked down at his drink. "Our dad died because of it. We know it can happen."

"Does it get any easier?"

Lily's whisper somehow was louder than any other words, and Sylvie sighed. "No," she shook her head. "It doesn't."

"Especially not when it involves children." Frank looked up at Kelly's words, and the squad captain was followed by Matt, both men's green eyes full of exhaustion. "But we keep doing this job in hopes that in the next call, we stop that fate from happening," Kelly continued as he gestured to the arm of the couch next to Frank.

Frank merely waved in permission, and as Kelly sat on the arm of the couch, Matt sat at the feet of Nolan and Sylvie. "Sounds like why I keep working homicide after seeing all the horrors that can happen," he remarked.

Nolan huffed. "This is a cruel way to end the trip."

"You're staying, though, aren't you?" Ben looked up at him.

Nolan grinned. "Jack let me know this morning that I could extend my stay. No idea why, but he did."

"That's actually part of why I'm here."

The voice made all three kids look up, and Matt instantly rocketed to his feet. "Chief!"

"Oh, please," Owen rolled his eyes and waved away the formality. "I'm not taking control from you again, Casey. This is a courtesy visit."

"We're all in uniform," Kelly deadpanned, making Nolan snort. "You're in command any day of the week when you show up to a firehouse in uniform."

Owen checked his appearance with a sigh. "Yeah . . . still getting used to that."

"Hey, Dad!" TK greeted as he bounded up, Judd in tow. "What are you doing here?"

"Where are Benson and Stabler?" Tommy looked around curiously.

Frank frowned, realizing the pair was nowhere to be seen. "That's part of why I'm here," Owen answered, watching as the rest of the house gathered around. "Look . . . I know that last night's call . . . it was a tough one." Lily flinched and ducked her head. "But I spoke with the arson investigator, and there were no remains found in the house."

Nancy gasped, and Lily shot upright, her doe eyes wide. "Wait," Griffin sat up straight as well. "That means – ?"

"You're saying that girl got out of there?" Judd demanded.

Owen nodded with a smile. "That's what they're telling me."

Lily cheered in delight, her previous sorrow gone with the news. "Praise God," Judd sighed in relief as he dropped onto the couch across from them.

"See, there!" Marjan grinned.

"Aren't you glad you didn't get flame-broiled trying to save a bunch of dollies, man?" Paul clapped Judd on the shoulder.

"Yeah," Judd nodded, looking gratefully at Matt. "And thank you for dragging my ass up out of there, too, Caps."

"Any time," Matt chuckled as he fistbumped Judd.

"Wait," Nolan sat forward, a frown on his face. "They didn't find any remains . . . but if the girl wasn't in the house, then where is she?"

"And that's why Liv and Elliot aren't here," Owen nodded. "APD is treating it as a possible abduction."

"Oh, no," Eddie sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"That explains why Jack agreed to extend my stay," Nolan nodded as he sat back.

"McGrath reluctantly extended Liv and Elliot's since they were on the scene when the fire happened," Owen explained; Frank's phone chirped, and he frowned as he pulled it out and checked his notifications. "They're out with APD to start the search."

"Does that mean you're staying, too, Dad?" Lily asked.

Frank stared at his phone, then let out an inelegant snort that had Kelly doing a double take. "Well, I'll have to call Lieu and your mother about that," he answered. "Because apparently, the water lines burst at your school and Cromwell is now going virtual the rest of the week."

"What?" Lily's eyes brightened, and she scrambled onto her knees to look over his shoulder. "No way!"

"Austin, man," Buck shook his head with a laugh. "You never know what's gonna happen here."

Frank sighed and looked at Matt. "If we're not imposing – "

He cut off at the deadpan look he received, and Nolan laughed then coughed into his arm at the look. "You're not imposing," the ladder captain told him. "If you get the time and Lily's able to stay, our home is yours as long as you're here."

"Awesome!" Ben whooped.

"Yeah, all we'll have to worry about is how big a Halligan we'll need to pry these three apart from each other," Kelly said dryly as he gestured to the teens.

Frank shook his head in amusement as he stood. "In that case, I'll go make those calls and get out on the streets." He paused before he left, and he turned to Lily, carding his fingers through her hair. "That's assuming you want to stay longer?" he asked with a grin.

She beamed up at him. "If we can!"

This girl, he thought fondly, bending down and kissing her forehead. "I'll do my best to convince your mother," he chuckled.

Marjan snorted softly and whispered to TK, "It's not like he could just have Lily video-call and give her Bambi eyes."

TK cackled.

***

Jason narrowed his eyes, watching Wendy click through the photographs she had on her computer. "This is all of it?" he asked.

"Everything they could pull off the PODS after the hack," Wendy confirmed.

Van Meter walked up to them, a frown on his face. "I just got off with Atwater," he told them. "Forensics is a bust. No prints, fibers, blood. Any sign of your guy?"

Wendy shook her head. "We can only track him about three blocks from the rectory," Jason gestured to the screen. "Then we lose him completely."

"So our only hope of identifying him is Father Anthony coming out of a coma," Van Meter concluded.

"And that could take weeks, if at all," Greg nodded. "If at all."

Van Meter sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. "PD's all in on this case now, so I can't really justify keeping you from 51 anymore," he told the two men, making Wendy's eyes widen. "If you want to go back . . . "

"Is OFI dropping the case?" Jason raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not!" Van Meter scoffed at the thought. "We have a dangerous arsonist out there."

Jason turned to Greg. "Well, if you want to go back – "

"Hell, no," Greg shook his head. "I called Chief Boden once we got here. He's good with us staying on, so we're not going anywhere."

Wendy grinned happily, and Van Meter nodded. "That's good to hear," he admitted. "So, what's the next move?"

Greg folded his arms and considered. "Why don't we try Sister Montclair again?" he suggested. "Father Anthony thought she knew something, even if she didn't realize it."

"Maybe we just didn't ask the right questions," Wendy nodded.

"OK, go talk to her," Van Meter told them.

Wendy hastily grabbed her coat, and Greg and Jason followed her out the door.

***

Elliot was smirking when Frank exited his rental car and approached the gathering of Austin PD officers. "You get the extension, too?" the organized crime detective asked cheekily.

"I had it before I even knew I did," Frank half-heartedly shoved at Elliot's shoulder, the other detective laughing as the duo continued to where Olivia and Carlos were speaking together. "And then Cromwell's pipes burst – multiple ones – so while they're being fixed, the school is going virtual for the rest of the week."

Elliot laughed. "And how long did it take for you to convince Julia to let Lily stay for that length of time?"

Frank sighed. "Not long after Lily begged."

Elliot's hysterical laughter caused both Olivia and Carlos to look at him worriedly as the pair of detectives joined them. "Do I want to know?" Olivia asked.

"My daughter has her mother wrapped around her finger," Frank deadpanned.

"Ah," Olivia chuckled. "That'll do it."

"You're sticking around, Detective?" Carlos asked with a smile.

"You're stuck with me, unfortunately," Frank smirked. "Where are we at right now?"

"Detective Washington has officers knocking on doors to see if they've found anything," Carlos answered, nodding to the police cars parked along the block. "Once we've finished asking, then we'll dive deeper."

"Elliot and I can take this side," Olivia pointed to her left. "The two of you take the other?"

"Sounds good to me," Frank nodded.

Carlos nodded in agreement, and as the former SVU partners strode down one of the driveways, Frank fell into step with Carlos as they approached one of the houses. "I, uh, never got around to the firehouse to ask," Carlos looked at Frank. "How's everyone doing after that call?"

"It was rough," Frank admitted with a sigh. "Lily didn't speak until Chief Strand came with the news that there were no bodies found in the house."

Carlos winced. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Frank shook his head as he knocked on the door. "There's nothing you could've done. And Katie didn't die in the fire."

"No," Carlos sighed. "Now we have to hope she's still alive somewhere."

Frank frowned. "That's optimistic."

Carlos snorted. "Nah. That's Buck and Sylvie."

Frank snickered, unable to argue. One reason was because he had no argument to make. The second was because the door to the house opened, and the man who lived there looked between the two of them. "Hello," he greeted with a small frown of concern. "Can I help you, officers?"

"We're canvassing the neighborhood asking if anyone saw anything suspicious last night," Carlos answered.

The man gulped. "Is it about the fire?" Carlos nodded. "Did they find the Conrads' little girl yet?"

Carlos shook his head sadly. "No, not yet."

The man sighed. "It's horrible."

"Have you noticed any vehicles lately that you didn't recognize?" Frank asked, gesturing to the street. "Either parked or driving around?"

"No," the man shook his head. "I passed out on the couch at 8:00. Sorry, I didn't see anything."

Frank nodded in understanding, then he saw Carlos do a double take and look behind them at the remains of the Conrads' house. When he turned back around and pointed next to the door, Frank saw what he had, and he couldn't help a smile. Clever man, he thought. "Well, what about this?" Carlos asked as he looked at the camera installed next to the doorframe.

***

"I'm honestly relieved to know that Mosiah had nothing to do with the fire," Montclair told the trio, Wendy glancing around the sister's office as she spoke. "But if it wasn't him, I have no idea why Father Anthony pointed you in my direction."

Wendy turned back to Montclair, folding her hands in her lap. "We understand the archdiocese was investigating him."

"Can you tell us anything about that?" Greg asked hopefully.

"Nothing to tell," Montclair shook her head. "There's absolutely nothing to it. They opened an investigation based on an anonymous tip, and they found nothing improper."

"Do you have any idea who made the accusation?" Jason tilted his head.

Montclair huffed. "You have to understand, the church is as divided as any other institution these days. You've got some folks who've gotten very rigid about what it means to be a 'proper' Catholic."

"Father Anthony's not in that camp?" Wendy inferred.

Montclair pursed her lips. "He made it his mission to minister to the needy, the sick, the outcast. And believe it or not, that ruffles some feathers. I'm sure that's at the bottom of the accusations against him. But a brutal attack over matters of doctrine?" She swallowed hard. "I can't imagine."

Greg sighed, remembering the assumptions she had made about Stella Kidd before her actions had come to light. "You'd be surprised what some people are capable of."

Wendy clenched her jaw, annoyance in her eyes signaling she was of a similar mind. "Thank you for your time, Sister," she said as she stood. "Please keep thinking on it. If anything comes to mind – "

"I'll reach out," Montclair promised.

"Thank you," Greg smiled.

The lieutenants departed out the door, Wendy absently clicking her fingers. "What are you thinking?" Jason asked.

Wendy sighed. "Well . . . arsonists don't just wake up one day and decide to burn down a church doing mass. They start small and work up their courage."

"So we look back and see if any past incidents, likely small ones, slipped through the cracks unnoticed," Greg finished for her.

Wendy grinned. "Now you're thinking like an OFI lieutenant."

Greg made a face as Jason snickered. "Maybe a long time from now."

Wendy sighed in mock disappointment. "Well, it was worth a shot."

***

"This is a door cam footage taken across the street from Katie's house the night of the fire," Carlos said as he showed the gathered police the reel on his laptop. "Just after the fire started at 12:38 a.m. Katie walks right out of the front door."

"Yeah, the point of origin was the child's bedroom," Detective Washington nodded. "We already know she started the fire."

"Oh, that's not the most interesting part," Frank smirked.

Washington looked at him dubiously. "More interesting than a seven-year-old arsonist?"

Olivia leaned forward, watching the reel continue. "She's running," she murmured.

"Away from the house," Washington nodded.

"No," Elliot frowned. "She looks like she's running to something."

Carlos nodded in agreement. "Like she was seeing someone she knew just off-camera."

Washington scoffed. "Well, she didn't drive herself out of the neighborhood."

"Carlos is right, though," Olivia tapped her fingers together. "Most of the time when a child is abducted, it's by someone they know. So if Katie was taken by someone she knew . . . "

"That person convinced her to start the fire," Elliot finished.

Washington hummed. "It's an interesting theory."

"I like it," Frank shrugged.

"Me, too," Olivia agreed.

Washington looked incredulously at Olivia. "Are you trying to steal my case, Captain?"

"Well," Elliot leaned back in his chair and grinned lazily, twirling a pencil between his fingers. "She is a captain. And special victims is her thing."

Washington sighed. "At least keep me in the loop?"

"Of course," Olivia nodded as she stood from her chair. "You three in on this?"

As Elliot and Frank nodded, Carlos looked at her in surprise. "Me, too?" he asked as he pointed to himself. "Captain – "

"Carlos." The patrol officer's mouth shut without another word, and Olivia's lips curled in a smile. "You helped my unit immensely when we started the investigation of the explosion that put Kathy Stabler in the hospital." Elliot flinched at the reminder of his wife's death. "I would be very pleased if you helped us with this one."

Slowly, a wide smile bloomed on Carlos's face. "I'd be happy to help."

***

"Another con of potentially switching to OFI, if we're gonna keep a running list," Jason held up a folder before plopping it on top of Wendy's desk. "We don't have to go through years of records if we stay firefighting."

Greg hummed in acknowledgement of the statement as he flipped through his current folder. "Yeah, but OFI has Wendy."

Wendy pressed her lips together as she attempted to hold back a smile, but her blush showed her pleasure at the statement. "Hmm," Jason pretended to consider. "Touché."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, boys," Wendy giggled.

Jason flashed a charismatic smile to her, and Greg chuckled. "We do our best."

"Here's one," Wendy held up her folder, and Jason stood to look at the file. "A grease fire in the kitchen of First Baptist back in 2009."

"Baptist?" Greg parroted with a frown.

"I know, it's not a Catholic church," Wendy sighed.

"If this guy is burning churches like he is now, we probably need to look at more recent fires," Greg said. "If he started back in 2009, we would've heard more from him."

"But we've looked at everything recent," Wendy gestured to the array of folders piled on her desk. "Church fires, fires involving animals . . . there are no obvious hits."

Jason, meanwhile, was looking at his current folder with a frown, then he looked up to the map of Chicago on the wall. "How far should we reach when we look at these fires?" he asked.

"Depends on what you're looking at," Greg folded his arms, walking around Wendy to check what his friend was examining. "Which is?"

"746 West 19th," Jason answered, flattening the folder onto Wendy's desk.

"Dumpster fire behind an apartment building?" Wendy asked incredulously. "It was two months ago."

"So what's the reach?" Greg frowned.

"It was reported by the tenant of the apartment building," Jason crossed to the map, tracing the street before pointing to its location. "But the dumpster was in an alley between the building and a Catholic church."

Greg's eyes lit up in realization. "Start small."

"Get bigger," Wendy grinned. "I think that's worth checking out."

"Awesome," Jason nodded, then he blinked and rejoined them. "Van Meter!"

Wendy turned to her, opening her mouth to explain their lead when she noticed the expression on his face. "What's wrong, boss?" she asked in concern.

"Father Anthony suffered some kind of complication," he answered. "He didn't make it."

Wendy blanched, covering her mouth in shock. "Damn it," Greg seethed.

Jason sighed and looked down at the picture of the ruined dumpster. "We better get a move-on."

***

"We didn't really think much of it, to be honest," Father Marcus told the trio when they met by the church. "We put the fire out with a mop bucket before your people even got here."

"Do you have any idea how it might have started?" Wendy asked as Jason shut the dumpster.

"The firefighters said it was probably just a cigarette butt," Marcus answered as he led them into the church. "We try to keep it locked up now."

Wendy nodded, looking around the sanctuary with interest. "Around the time of the fire, was there anyone acting strange or . . . threatening towards you or your staff?" Greg asked.

Marcus frowned thoughtfully. "There were a few unpleasant messages in the comment box, but no," he shook his head. "No threats."

"Messages?" Jason repeated. "What kind of messages."

Marcus huffed, irritation on his face. "Oh, I'm just referring to some tension at our parish the last few years. Some people, older members mostly, complaining that we've gotten a little too 'woke,' I guess you'd say." He paused, his brow furrowing. "But those folks are all well-meaning."

The way his voice trailed away made Wendy blink. "What is it, Father?"

"There was one thing," he said slowly. "I guess it was around the time of the fire, now that I'm thinking about it. The altar boys discovered some missals that have been defaced. Drawings, mostly. I thought it was some bored kid entertaining himself, but it seemed more than doodling. It seemed angry."

Greg and Jason exchanged knowing looks. "Bingo," Jason whispered.

As Greg nodded, Wendy stepped forward. "Can we see one of these missals?" she asked.

"We tried to weed them all out, but there might be some in the recycling still," Marcus nodded. "Let me check for you."

Wendy nodded, and as Marcus departed, she plucked a Bible from its place in one of the pews. "Maybe our arsonist was some kind of religious hardliner, targeting progressive churches?" she theorized, absently flipping through the pages.

Jason shrugged. "Guess a dumpster fire wasn't a complete waste of time, huh?"

"I really don't want to smack you with this while we're in the sanctuary," Wendy warned, holding up her Bible, visibly struggling to hold in a grin.

Jason held up his hands with a laugh. "Yeah, we wouldn't want that to happen."

"At least not in here," Greg looked around appraisingly with an impressed whistle. "I like the architecture."

"Found a bunch of old missals back there," Marcus walked back to join them, holding out two paper bags full of missals. "Not sure any of them are defaced, but you're welcome to have a look. Take them with you."

Greg and Jason each took a bag, and Wendy smiled as she placed the Bible back in the pew. "Thank you, Father."

Marcus nodded in return, and Wendy pulled one of the missals out of a bag and started looking through the pages. "One down," she said, tucking it under her arm.

"And . . " Jason snorted. "So many to go."

"Hey," Wendy glowered. "Once we're out of the building, I have no problem smacking you."

"Let me take a picture when you do," Greg chuckled.

Wendy grinned. "Yes, sir!"

"Why am I friends with you two?" Jason rolled his eyes as he climbed into the back of Wendy's vehicle.

"It's our charming personalities," Greg deadpanned.

Wendy giggled, sliding into the passenger seat. "I'll flip, you drive?"

"Copy," Greg nodded, catching the keys she tossed to him.

Jason flipped through the pages on the first missal he retrieved, and he dropped it on the seat next to him. "Another dud."

"Well, at least it doesn't take long to flip through 'em," Wendy remarked.

Greg's phone rang, and he pulled it out and checked the Caller ID. "Hey, Chief," he said as he answered. "Need us back?"

"51 just got a call to an automatic alarm," Boden told him curtly. "St. Dominic's Catholic Church."

Greg balked and jammed the keys into the ignition. "We're on our way."

"What happened?" Jason looked up from the next missal.

"51's been dispatched to an automatic alarm," Greg answered, flipping on the lights and sirens as he drove away from the church. "St. Dominic's."

Wendy gulped. "Catholic church."

***

They had made it through about a third of the license plates they had found in their scouring of footage surrounding Katie Conrad's home when Elliot groaned and rubbed his eyes. "I wish Jet was here."

"You can always call her," Olivia deadpanned from where her fingers were flying over the keys on her laptop, wireless earbuds in place.

"I have."

"Let me guess," Frank drawled as he looked over the top of his laptop. "She laughed at your suffering."

Elliot's glower was all he needed for confirmation. "Screw you, Cosgrove."

Frank snickered as he returned to his list of plates. "I know you're my type. Maybe if I was yours."

Carlos's head shot up, and Elliot pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's not allowed around Nolan any longer," the senior detective announced, and Frank snorted his opinion of that. "Or any of Owen's kids, for that matter. He's starting to sound just like them."

Olivia didn't even look up from her work. "You do remember whose home he's currently residing in, don't you?"

"And who my daughter has currently claimed as her best friends?" Frank added.

Elliot threw his hands up in the air. "Help me out here, Carlos."

Poor Carlos looked around the circle of investigators with wide eyes. "I . . . have no idea whose side I'm supposed to take here."

"Whichever side your boyfriend is on," Frank suggested helpfully.

Olivia squinted at something on her screen, but she continued the conversation. "Unless he wants to spite TK after what happened during the ice storm."

Elliot chortled as Carlos blushed. "Not really helping here," the patrol officer mumbled, attempting to hide behind his work. "No offense, Captain . . . I'm a little more terrified of his family."

Elliot snickered. "I mean . . . with TK, you get Sylvie."

"And with Sylvie, you get Casey and Severide," Olivia nodded.

"And Price," Elliot continued.

Olivia paused. "And I can probably stop right there."

"Yeah," Carlos nodded rapidly. "You can."

Frank looked up from his paperwork warily. "Who else can Sylvie summon to do her bidding?" he asked.

Elliot snorted. "I like that wording."

"Ever heard of Hank Voight?" Olivia asked Frank.

Frank's eyebrows rose in surprise. "The Intelligence Unit sergeant in Chicago who helped with the Los Angeles sniper investigation?"

"That's him."

Frank waited for Olivia to continue, but when Olivia gave him a pointed look, he did a double take. "Really?" he asked, sounding more impressed than surprised.

"His unit works in Chief Boden's district, where 51 operates," Olivia confirmed as she returned her gaze to her laptop. "I believe I heard Lieutenant Grainger once say the desk sergeant referred to Voight's unit as 'the police liaisons to the CFD.'"

Elliot laughed gleefully. "Someone say that to Voight's face!"

"Nuh uh," Carlos shook his head desperately. "Not it!"

"You could probably say it to Jay's," Olivia hummed thoughtfully.

Frank shook his head in disbelief. "I learn something new every day."

"So do I," Olivia sat up straight. "I think I have something."

"Does it help Carlos's theory?" Elliot asked, standing from his seat immediately to join her.

"It may and it may not," Olivia said slowly as she removed her earbuds and switched back to her computer speakers. "The Conrads had a nanny cam in Katie's room. It was destroyed in the fire, but Detective Washington sent over footage that was stored on the cloud. Take a look at this."

Frank leaned over Olivia's shoulder, watching her as she played the black and white footage of Katie lying in her bed, then a male voice that sent ice down his spine spoke in a sing-song voice. "Katie? Katie? Wake up. It's time to play!"

Katie rolled onto her side and mumbled, "Not tonight, Mr. Whispers."

"Aw," the voice continued. "But don't you wanna play with me? I got you a present."

"Is that coming from the camera?" Carlos's jaw dropped.

Elliot's head dropped with a sigh. "Shit."

***

Annie Conrad trembled in horror as she watched the video play on the tray table set up in front of her husband, who was still confined to his bed. "She . . . she talked about Mr. Whispers," she stammered. "I thought it was her imaginary friend! How – ?"

"It seems someone hacked into your nanny cam," Olivia answered gently, sitting at the foot of the bed with Elliot behind her, Frank and Carlos on either side. "Do you recognize that voice?"

Annie immediately shook her head. "No," Troy Conrad shook his head in agreement. "I've never heard it before in my life."

"Whoever this is," Annie pointed at the laptop, "took our daughter?"

"That is what we suspect," Frank nodded. "Yes."

Annie lowered her head and let out a choked sob, covering her mouth with a bandaged hand. "Do you ever share your Wi-Fi passwords with anyone?" Elliot asked. "Friends? Neighbors? Any workers that have come through the house?"

Troy sighed. "Yeah, sure," he nodded weakly. "We redid our kitchen, our master bath, last year. We gave it out to the whole crew."

"Troy," Annie gulped. "We have the password written on the router." Elliot and Frank exchanged knowing looks, and Olivia rubbed her forehead. "We have parties, people over all the time. I wouldn't even know where to start!"

"It's OK," Olivia told her, taking out a notepad and pen and handing it to the woman. "Just start with the first name you can remember and go from there. I promise, we'll look into every lead we get."

Annie nodded and hastily started to write. "Mrs. Conrad?" Carlos spoke up, and she looked at him. "Do you remember when Katie first mentioned her imaginary friend?"

"I don't know," Annie shook her head, then a look of horror dawned on her face. "But . . . he'd been talking to her for months."

***

The first thing Greg saw when he pulled up was the crowd of people waiting outside the church among the rigs. "No smoke," Jason noted.

"Yeah, not exactly an inferno," Wendy checked the sky.

"Must've just been a false alarm," Greg frowned as he parked along the side of the road. "Check it out anyway?"

"Good idea," Jason nodded, getting out of the vehicle.

Greg shut his door and looked in through the window. "You coming, Wendy?"

"You two have got this," Wendy shook her head, holding up the missal in her hand. "I'll keep chipping away at these."

"You got it," Greg nodded, grabbing his radio and heading up to the front of the church.

"I'm awfully sorry for the trouble," the priest in full vestments was telling Boden when they arrived. "I have no idea who pulled the alarm."

"It's OK, Father," Boden assured him. "The most important thing is keeping everybody safe. We'll let you know when you can go back inside."

"Hey, Chief," Greg said as he and Jason joined them. "What have we got?"

"All clear, Chief!" Herrmann announced as he walked out of the doors. "Not so much as a puff of smoke in there."

"Ah, there you go," Boden nodded. "Sorry for dragging you out for nothing. I heard 'church' and my radar went up."

"Yeah," Jason frowned up at the building. "Me, too."

"Guess that's another con of arson hunting," Greg quipped. "We get paranoid when we're on the case."

Jason barked in laughter. "I'll let you tell that to Seager."

"I'll keep that one to myself, thanks," Greg rolled his eyes. "Thanks for calling, Chief."

"Of course," Boden nodded, patting Greg on the shoulder. As the lieutenants walked down the steps, they heard the chief's voice on their radios. "All units, back in service."

"Well, I guess that's one church we don't need to worry about," Jason remarked.

"We should probably keep our eye on it, anyway," Greg shrugged as they passed a group of parishioners by Ambulance 61. "Pardon us."

"Of course," one of the women began, then she grinned widely. "Greg!"

"Hmm?" Greg turned around, then his eyes brightened. "Oh, Mrs. Callahan! Hello! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you!"

"Oh, don't worry about it," the woman chuckled, drawing the interest of Violet and Gianna as they closed the ambulance doors.

"Mrs. Callahan is one of the clients on our current paramedicine route," Greg explained, making Jason nod in understanding. "Mrs. Callahan, this is my best friend, Jason."

"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Jason smiled.

"You're looking great," Greg looked at Mrs. Callahan. "You must be taking your Trexall, I can tell. Did you walk all the way here from your house?"

"Don't look so impressed," Callahan tutted. "It's only three blocks." Based on the approval on Violet's face and Gianna's giggle, that was indeed something to be impressed about. "I don't care how permissive St. Dom's gets," Callahan continued, pointedly holding up her rosary. "I'll keep coming here till they put me in the ground."

"Well, that'll be a while," Greg smirked, causing Callahan to chuckle. "So take care of yourself."

Callahan beamed and nodded as she trotted away, and Jason grinned teasingly at Greg. "Always a ladies' man."

Greg shoved his shoulder in retaliation. "Shut up."

Wendy looked up curiously at Jason's laughter, which continued all the way from their trek from Ambulance 61. "What did I miss?" she asked.

"Just met a paramedicine patient that goes here," Greg shook his head as he returned to the driver's seat. "Other than that, it's just another dead end."

"Oh," Wendy frowned. "Well . . . I don't think this is."

She showed them the missal she had been examining, and Greg's eyes widened when he saw the black Sharpie scribbled on the pages. "What the hell?"

"'Damnable heresies bring swift destruction,'" Jason read.

Wendy nodded. "This has to be our arsonist."

***

"Well, if you need me to go over anything, feel free to send it my way," Nolan said into his phone as he left his room and headed for the kitchen.

"We will," Sam told him. "You know when you're heading back yet?"

"The end of the week," Nolan answered, barely batting an eye when he saw Frank sitting at the kitchen table, eyes glued to whatever he was watching on his laptop. "That's when Jack's extended my leave, at least. My guess is we'll all get on the same flight."

"That checks out with what Peter said. I know Noah keeps asking about whatever case Benson, Stabler, and Cosgrove are helping to solve. You know anything about it?"

Nolan eyed Frank, then cleared his throat. "Not much."

"Tell them we wish them the best. I'm ready to have my partner back."

Nolan chuckled. "Yeah, see you soon." He hung up the phone as he filled a cup with water, and he curiously looked back at Frank. The detective hadn't even acknowledged his presence in the kitchen, he was so focused on whatever he was watching. He checked the clock on the wall, noted the late time, and finally made his way over to the table, making sure he slid into Frank's peripheral vision.

That, at least, seemed to work, and Frank did a double take and proceeded to take out his ear buds. "When did you get in here?"

"Two minutes ago?" Nolan shrugged as he checked his phone. "Sam called to update me on how things are going at the office. You didn't even react."

Frank sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry about that."

"No harm done," Nolan shook his head, tapping the back of one of the chairs. "May I?"

Frank snorted and gestured. "It's not my house, I can't really say no."

"You can if you're busy," Nolan pointed out as he sat. "What's got you so focused?"

Frank's eyes returned to his laptop, pale eyes narrowing. "Something that really makes me wish I could have a drink right now, but that's not a good idea." Nolan tilted his head, and Frank turned his laptop towards him. "This is the footage we got from Katie Conrad's nanny cam."

"You think it'll tell you who took her?" Nolan asked.

Frank scoffed. "More like we're looking for a face to match the voice."

He clicked the keyboard, and Nolan watched Katie open wide for the camera before she grinned. "This is the one that's loose!"

"Oh, wow!" The male voice that came from the camera made Nolan's heart drop to the pit of his stomach. "Katie-cat, I see it!"

Nolan stared at the screen in horror, jaw hanging agape. "What the hell?" he finally sputtered.

"That was our reaction," Frank nodded as he swung the laptop back towards him. "Our current theory is that whoever abducted Katie is whoever this . . . Mr. Whispers scumbag is. So we're combing through all the footage we could get to see if the footage will give us anything."

"God," Nolan sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair, eyeing the pages of notes Frank had piled next to him. "That's sickening."

"I know," Frank nodded in agreement. "And it makes me glad that Julia never argued with me when I was overprotective of the girls. I would tear Manhattan apart if this happened to one of our daughters."

Nolan couldn't help but smile. "While I hope that never happens . . . count me in on helping out."

Frank snorted. "You think I'd need the help?"

"Absolutely not," Nolan snickered. "I haven't met your ex-wife, but I'm not cutting past her in line."

"Good idea," Frank smirked as he turned his notes back towards him.

Nolan watched Frank peruse what he had written, then he cleared his throat. "I know it's none of my business, but I wonder . . . ?"

Frank looked over the top of the pages. "Why did we divorce?" he guessed.

Nolan winced and started to stand. "Forget I asked."

"No, it's not a secret," Frank shook his head, holding up his hand and stopping Nolan. "It's fine, Nolan." Nolan slowly returned to his seat as Frank turned to face him. "Long story short, the further I went in the NYPD, the further apart we drifted. I never wanted to bring my work home, and I tried to keep the two lives separated. I think I ended up getting a little too good at that. And by that point, while I will always love Julia for who she is, we fell out of love with each other. The divorce was clean and quick, and we had the same priority: stability for our girls. They are always welcome with me, but because of the unpredictability of my hours, they live with Julia."

Nolan nodded in understanding, a small smile on his face. "I'm glad it sounds like you still get along."

"It definitely makes her family wonder why we divorced," Frank nodded with a laugh. "While we wish it hadn't ended up the way it did, we're in a better place now. It took a few years to figure out the routine, but we're happy. We still keep in contact with each other, I get to spend time with my girls, and we're happy with our jobs." He paused then made a face at his laptop. "Well . . . maybe I shouldn't say that, considering what my job is to investigate." Nolan snorted at the quip, and Frank grinned at him. "That satisfy your curiosity, Counselor?"

"More than, Detective," Nolan chuckled as he stood. "You want some company while you keep looking?"

"No, you go on ahead," Frank shook his head as he checked his watch. "I don't know how late I'll be up looking through this."

"Alright," Nolan nodded and patted his shoulder before walking towards the other wing. "Oh, before I forget," he turned around, causing Frank to look at him. "There's an ice cream shop the boys wanted Lily to try, and I think Sylvie was going to ask you in the morning if they could take her."

"Fine by me," Frank nodded.

"And since they're doing that, there's a coffee shop and bakery that I've heard the Buckleys swear by," Nolan added. "So while they're off doing that, if you're interested?"

He trailed off and looked at Frank expectantly, and the detective grinned. "You're on."

"Awesome," Nolan smiled in return. "Good luck with the footage."

"Thanks," Frank waved, and as Nolan disappeared back into the guest wing, Frank checked the video files he still had yet to view. "I'm gonna need it," he muttered before checking the empty mug by his laptop.

He was going to need more coffee.

***

The sun had disappeared a long time ago, and the trio of lieutenants were the only ones remaining in the OFI offices as Wendy read from the Bible study webpage on her computer. "'There were false prophets among the people, even as there will be false teachers among you who will secretly bring in damnable heresies, and bring upon themselves swift destruction.'"

Greg winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Old Testament?" he guessed.

"No," Wendy guffawed, covering her mouth to stifle her laughter. "2 Peter, chapter 2."

Jason snorted from where he was checking pages of the missals, and Greg scowled. "I pushed you once, I can do it again!"

"I missed that?" Wendy stared.

"Hey, at least our arsonist knows his Bible," Jason grinned cheekily.

Greg groaned. "Seriously, Jason, one of these days I'm gonna kill you."

"Well, if you won't let me watch you push him, let me watch that," Wendy leaned back in her chair. "Deal?"

"Deal," Greg nodded.

"Um," Jason stared between them. "No deal!"

"Sucks to be you, then," Wendy turned back to her monitor, and Greg snickered. "Anyway, it seems like we're dealing with somebody who thinks these so-called false teachers are destroying Catholicism. Progressive priests like Father Anthony, Father Marcus."

"So he's not a psychopath," Jason tapped his pencil against his palm. "Just someone who thinks his religion is being wronged."

"I may have something," Greg said, and Wendy left her computer to join them. "This drawing, the arrow through the heart, it's in every book," he explained, pointing his pen at the drawing. "And the arrow always goes to the same verse: 'The Lord is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear?'"

Wendy blinked. "Wait a second . . . I know that quote."

Jason raised an eyebrow and pointed over his shoulder at Wendy's computer. "You've been staring at Bible study websites for hours now," he pointed out.

"No," Wendy shook her head. "No, that's not why." Jason looked at Greg in explanation, but the truck lieutenant shrugged, watching as Wendy tapped her fingers on her desk as she thought. A moment later, her expression cleared and her eyes narrowed. "I got it."

***

A hand on Carlos's shoulder made the young patrol officer yelp and almost jump off the couch. "Sorry!" TK's eyes widened as he yanked his hand away, and Carlos sighed in relief as he paused the footage he watched. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You're not the scary one," Carlos shook his head as he removed his glasses.

TK frowned in concern, placing gentle hands on Carlos's arm. "Baby, it's 3:00 in the morning," he said. "Will you come back to bed?"

"Uh," Carlos swallowed. "Not sure I could sleep even if I did. This is . . . " He gestured to the laptop as if it explained everything. To him, it did. "This is kind of terrifying."

TK examined the frozen image of Katie on the screen, then he nudged Carlos. "Scoot over." Carlos shuffled closer to the edge of the couch and removed his ear buds as TK squeezed into the gap between the cop and the back of the couch. "What exactly are we looking for?" he asked, resting his head on Carlos's collarbone.

"Anything that can help us identify who might be behind this," Carlos answered as he slipped his glasses back into place.

"How do we know it's not just some Russian hackers?"

"Hackers don't usually kidnap children, especially without a ransom demand. You'll see. This feels . . . " Carlos struggled for words as he pressed the key to continue the video. "Different."

"Are you sure I'm allowed, Mr. Whispers?" Katie asked as she stood in front of the camera, one of her dolls in hand.

"Of course, you are," Mr. Whispers answered. "It'll be fun."

"I don't know," Katie bowed her head, looking at her doll in uncertainty.

"Katie." Carlos felt TK tense at the iron now in Mr. Whispers' voice. "Do what I say." Katie paused, then took a pair of scissors and started cutting away at her doll's hair. "That's a good girl."

TK shuddered. "That is so messed up."

Carlos nodded grimly. "He's grooming her."

Hours ticked by as Carlos continued to go through the footage, the young cop ignoring the passage of time as he wrote note after note. TK had fallen asleep a long time ago, but Carlos remained wide awake as he flew through the tapes all the way to the first time Mr. Whispers' voice appeared on the nanny cam. By that time, sunlight seeped through the curtains, and Carlos had very few blank pages left in his notebook. "What a cute little rabbit, Katie-cat," Mr. Whispers crooned.

Katie's head shot up from where she was playing with her rabbit on her bed. "Who . . . who said that?" she asked as she looked around.

"I did, silly."

Katie peered at the camera, childlike wonder on her face. "Who are you?" she asked.

"My name is Mr. Whispers," the voice answered. "And we're gonna be best friends."

Carlos frowned, rewinding the audio a few times. Something about Mr. Whispers that time had nagged at his brain . . .

"What a cute little rabbit, Katie-cat."

Carlos's blood froze, and he rewound the audio one more time to make sure he heard correctly. "Oh, my God!" he blurted, lurching to his feet in shock.

The move dislodged TK, who jolted awake and instantly squinted to try and find him through the sunlight. "What?" he stammered, blinking tiredly. "What?"

Carlos gulped. "I think I know who did this!"

***

When Sister Montclair entered the offices of Saint Sebastian Catholic School in the morning, Wendy turned away from viewing the board of 2021 graduates to face her. "Good morning, Sister," she greeted.

"Hello," Montclair nodded, swallowing hard as she did so. "You've heard about Father Anthony?"

"Yes," Wendy nodded. "And we're very sorry for your loss."

Montclair lowered her gaze. "It's a profound loss for this entire community."

"No doubt," Greg nodded.

As Montclair turned towards her office, Jason cleared his throat. "Sister, can we come in?" he asked. "We need to talk to you."

For a moment, he thought the woman would deny them, but after a moment, she nodded reluctantly. "Of course," she agreed, holding open the door for them. "How can I help?"

Wendy stepped inside the door and immediately pointed to a framed black and white drawing on the wall of Jesus Christ, a heart with an arrow the only colored part of the drawing. Emblazoned next to the drawing was the verse Greg had seen indicated in every missal: The Lord is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear? "Can I ask where you got this?" Wendy asked.

"It was a gift from Mr. Muller, our former groundskeeper," Montclair answered. "Why?"

"What can you tell us about him?" Wendy pressed.

"I don't know," Montclair frowned. "He was a good employee. Always on time, kept to himself. Very devout."

"Where is he now?" Jason looked around.

"He left a couple of weeks ago," Montclair told him. "Said he found a better job."

"Did he leave on good terms?" Greg wondered.

"Yes, I was happy for him," Montclair nodded, perking up as if remembering something. "That's actually why I wasn't in church on the day of the fire. I was interviewing a possible replacement."

While Wendy's eyes widened in realization, Jason's narrowed. "And Father Anthony knew this?" he asked.

"Of course," Montclair blinked. "He was aware of all personnel matters." When the three lieutenants shared knowing looks, she looked at them in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"That's the question Father Anthony wanted us to ask you," Greg answered. "Where were you during the fire?"

"He wanted you to tell us about Mr. Muller," Wendy nodded. Montclair stared at the drawing, terrified understanding filling her eyes, and Wendy hesitantly stepped forward. "Sister, can you show us where Mr. Muller worked while he was here?"

As if delivered a shock, Montclair jolted, then she nodded determinedly. "Follow me." The lieutenants strode after Montclair as she led them out of the school and down an alley. "The search for a new groundskeeper was put on hold after the fire, so no one's been in here since Mr. Muller."

She inserted her key into the door's lock and swung open the door. Jason stepped inside first, and Wendy flipped on the lights as Greg joined his friend. The men looked around the room, taking in a room that, aside from the usual desk, chair, and tools for a groundskeeper's office, looked relatively normal. "Do you notice anything unusual or out of place, Sister?" Jason asked.

Montclair looked around carefully, making sure she didn't miss anything. "Looks like he cleaned it out."

Greg gestured to wooden pallets in the corner, the front half notably worn and stained a bluish color that instantly set off warning bells in his head. "What did he have over here?" he asked, crouching next to the pallets.

"Some bags," Montclair answered. "I'm not sure. Soil or mulch . . . something from the garden supply store."

"Do you remember how many bags he had?" Greg continued, swiping his fingers through the white pellets that remained on the pallet.

"I don't know," Montclair shrugged. "A dozen or so?"

Jason crouched down next to Greg, watching his friend take a whiff of the white material. "So what's our groundskeeper's soil of choice?"

"It's not soil," Greg shook his head darkly. "It's fertilizer. Whatever this guy is planning, it involves a whole lot of ammonium nitrate."

***

The woman sitting across from Katie in her bedroom gave her a kind smile. "Don't forget to pour some for your guests, too, Katie-cat," she said.

Katie immediately nodded and pretended to pour tea into the cups set in front of her stuffed animals. "Sorry, Otto," she said. "Sorry, Bun-Bun."

"Katie-cat," Elliot's eyes narrowed as Carlos paused the video. "That's what Mr. Whispers is calling her, right?"

"Yeah," Carlos confirmed. "This is Danica Hendry."

"That's one of the names Mrs. Conrad gave us," Frank checked his notes. "She was Katie's nanny until last year when she moved out of state to be with family."

"She did," Carlos nodded. "Until she rented an apartment in Austin two months ago, the same time the voice started on the nanny cam . . . and she's the only person who calls Katie 'Katie-cat.'"

"That's our missing link," Olivia turned to her own laptop. "That's the voice we're hearing."

Carlos blinked. "But the voice on the nanny cam is a male voice."

"But voices can be put through a filter," Olivia pointed out as she clicked on something on her laptop. "Digital Forensics sent this to me this morning. Mr. Whispers used an audio filter. This is what we heard."

"Katie? Katie? Wake up. It's time to play."

Frank grimaced. "Why does that get creepier every time I hear it?"

"Because I keep thinking I'm really glad we didn't have this kind of tech when my kids were growing up," Elliot answered.

Frank winced. "That'll do it."

"Well, that's the filter," Olivia told them. "And this . . . is without the filter."

"Katie?" Somehow, the female voice sounded even more ominous. "Katie? Wake up. It's time to play."

Carlos's eyes widened. "That's her!"

"It's identical," Olivia agreed. "But I can hear Peter now saying we need more than a voice on a nanny cam to get a warrant issued."

"We have more than that," Carlos pulled out his phone. "Remember those traffic cams we pulled?"

"You got a hit?" Frank asked.

Carlos nodded, flipping his phone around to show a jeep on the road. "This is Danica Hendry's jeep leaving Katie's neighborhood two minutes after the fire started."

Elliot smirked, and Olivia's eyes narrowed. "I'll call Detective Washington," she said decisively.

***

"I'm looking at a purchase order from the school," Van Meter spoke angrily into his phone. "This Larry Muller could have as much as five hundred pounds of ammonium nitrate-based fertilizer in his possession. And we believe him to be capable of planning a mass casualty incident. Is that urgent enough for you?" Whatever was said on the other line made the captain roll his eyes, and he rested the mouthpiece against his shoulder to speak to the lieutenants. "What's driving this guy? Do we know?"

"Seems like he has an issue with Catholic priests who he thinks are too lax," Wendy answered.

"His methods have been escalating with every church he goes after," Greg nodded. "The fact that he quit his job makes me worry that he's getting ready for something big."

"So what's his next target?" Van Meter asked.

"He might go back to Blessed Mother or continue on to some other church," Wendy shrugged. "Impossible to say."

Van Meter's eyes sharpened, and he returned to speaking into his phone. "Good. We'll head right over. Thanks." He hung up and placed his phone back in the cradle. "Atwater's getting the warrant," he told them as he stood. "He'll meet us at the house."

"Great," Jason grinned as he grabbed his jacket. "Let's go!"

***

The quartet of fire officers arrived first and watched Atwater's car pull up with squad units. "Flores, Jackson, cover the back," the Intelligence officer ordered. As the officers ran to the back of the house, Atwater walked over to Greg and held out a mugshot. "Is this your friend you said gave you a nice friendly shove?"

Greg narrowed his eyes at the bald man with a beard in the picture, and he nodded sharply. "Just might be, yeah."

"OK," Atwater tucked the photo away. "Let's go." He led them to the house, and after a short pause, he continued and looked over his shoulder at Grainger. "Burgess wanted me to ask. You ever get back in contact with the gang down in Austin?"

"Uh, yeah, 126's first shift went as smoothly as it could," Greg nodded.

"Shift ended with an arson caused by a six-year-old," Jason added. "Last we heard, the remaining NYPD gang hopped on the case."

"Ah," Atwater nodded. "Thanks. Burgess has been curious since she saw that picture of the crew with Price's team."

Jason shook his head with a chuckle as Atwater knocked on the door. "Something's in Manhattan's water, I swear."

The door to the house opened, and a woman with long white hair peered outside. "How you doing, ma'am?" Atwater smiled and held up his warrant for the house. "We're looking for Larry Muller. Does he live here?"

The woman's eyes widened, and she quickly ushered them inside. "He hasn't been home in over a week," she said as she led them upstairs. "I don't . . . I don't have the key."

Jason eyed the door, then smirked at Greg. "Sure, we do."

Greg rolled his eyes as he joined Jason at the door. "One, two, three!"

The lieutenants jammed their shoulders into the door at the same time, easily breaking the lock.

And breaking into a room with walls full of newspaper clippings and drawings and crucifixes and more, all of it causing Wendy to stare in horror. "What the hell is this?" Atwater demanded, his flashlight beam bouncing from wall to wall.

Jason shook his head angrily, only able to see cracks through the pages of where there was paint on the walls. "I take it back," he said. "This is a psychopath."

"OK," Atwater cleared his throat. "You all are probably right."

Greg continued into the alcove connected to the bedroom, and he reached up to yank the aluminum foil off of the windows, letting sunlight into the room. He squinted through the light, then Wendy gasped. "Greg!"

He spun around and aimed his flashlight beam, and it joined Wendy's to illuminate the massive drawing right on the wall: a heart shot through with an arrow, the same drawing Muller had sketched into the missals. Muller's mother looked around in worry. "Has Larry hurt anyone?" she asked meekly.

"Yes, ma'am," Van Meter nodded. "He has."

"Looks like he wants to hurt a lot more," Atwater narrowed his eyes.

As Greg continued to pull down the foil, Jason started to look through the papers that covered Muller's desk. "Got something!"

Atwater joined him immediately, frowning when he saw the sketch. "What's this? A bomb?"

Jason examined the diagram. "Looks like a fuel injection system," he answered.

Greg suddenly stopped pulling down the foil. "Guys?" he said slowly. "Remember when I said that false alarm was a dead end?"

"At St. Dominic's?" Jason looked up from the diagram. "Yeah."

Greg pointed out the window, and Wendy's eyes widened when she saw the church looming a few blocks away. "That's St. Dominic's."

"And he covered the window with foil so he didn't have to look outside and see it," Greg gestured.

"One of the posters in here is for St. Dominic's," Van Meter added.

"This isn't a fuel injector for a building," Jason realized. "This is a car bomb!"

"And when St. Dominic's evacuated, everyone went straight to the parking lot," Wendy paled.

"That's his next target!" Jason ran for the door. "Let's go!"

***

Wendy clung for dear life as Jason swerved her vehicle onto the drive of St. Dominic's, parishioners already swarming from the building. All of 51's units were in attendance, and Wendy turned to Greg and Jason as they exited the vehicle. "We'll start clearing everyone," she told them as Van Meter left his vehicle, Atwater's car pulling up behind them. "Tell Boden."

Greg nodded and ran up the steps, heart pounding when he reached his chief. "Chief," he panted. "This is his next target."

"What?" Boden's eyes sharpened. "Are you sure? There's no sign of any fire."

"He's not setting a fire," Greg shook his head. "Jason figured it out."

"That last alarm pull, he was just – " Jason doubled over, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "He was just doing his reconnaissance. Chief, he set a car bomb!"

Boden immediately turned on his radio. "All units, evacuate the building!" he ordered. "Help me clear out this parking lot right away!"

Cruz, Tony, and Capp started shepherding parishioners away from the parking lot, and Greg and Jason hurried down the steps to help. Greg looked around, finding Violet and Gianna by their ambulance. Mouch and Gallo soon appeared in his line of view, and Herrmann and Ritter were coming out of the church, Van Meter stopping to explain what was happening. That only left –

A shriek echoed from the parking lot, and Wendy's shout made Greg freeze. "Larry Muller!"

"Wendy!" Jason raced past Greg, the truck lieutenant only a second behind him.

Jason passed where Wendy was in a heap in the grass, and Greg dropped next to their friend. "What happened?" he asked, checking her over.

"I found him when I was getting people out of the way," Wendy gasped, clutching him for stability as he helped her to her knees. "He shoved me before I could see where he was going."

Jason chanced a look over his shoulder, and only when he saw Wendy look his way and nod did he continue his pursuit of Muller. He slid over the hood of a car in his way, and he ran to the hood of the car Muller entered. Muller gave him a slimy smirk, then held up a device in his hand, thumb flipping several switches into place. Jason balked and immediately backtracked. "Get back!" he yelled, only pausing to sweep a young girl off her feet when she had stopped in the parking lot. "Go! Go! Move!"

"Come on," Greg pulled Wendy to her feet. "Let's go!"

Wendy stumbled after him, then a loud boom behind them made Greg shove her back to the ground and dive on top of her, his arms instinctively covering his head. He yelped when spray debris hit his back, the hiss of smoking fabric meaning his jacket was covered. Wendy quickly rolled onto her back, and her eyes widened when she saw the grimace on his face. "Greg!" she scrambled to her knees and fumbled to remove his jacket.

"Medic!" Cruz shouted, running to join Greg.

As if summoned by the call, Jason appeared behind Greg, and Gallo's face turned white when he saw the smoldering embers covering Greg's jacket. "Oh, my God!"

"Are you OK?" Jason demanded, hands frantically checking over Greg.

"Jason," Greg held up his hands, batting away his friend. "Jason! I'm fine!"

"Are you kidding me?" Wendy demanded.

"Yeah, I know what it feels like when clothes catch fire," Greg huffed. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, OK," Jason narrowed his eyes, then bellowed, "Violet!"

The paramedic ran through the parishioners, bag over her shoulder. "Who's hurt?" she asked.

"Check him," Jason ordered as he pointed to Greg.

"Jason," Greg began.

"I said check him," Jason narrowed his eyes to slits, Wendy shrinking back as the two lieutenants stared down each other. "Clear?"

"Lieutenant Grainger." The rumbling baritone of their chief made hackles lower, and Greg turned as Boden approached. "Let Mikami check you."

Greg took a deep breath. "Yes, sir."

Jason nodded curtly and stepped away as Violet took Greg's arm and led him over to the ambulance. "Wow," Cruz let out his breath in a rush as Wendy stepped to Jason's side. "I don't think I've ever seen you two argue like that before."

"First time for everything, right?" Jason muttered, rubbing a hand over his face before sighing and walking towards Muller's car. "Is there anything left of the bastard?"

Wendy gingerly made her way across the grass with him, and she gagged and covered her nose as they approached the car. Capp whistled lowly when they saw the burnt husk of Muller in the driver's seat, Gallo and Ritter blasting the car with extinguishers. "I'd have to say no, boss," Tony shook his head.

"'Pride goeth before destruction,'" Wendy quoted solemnly. "'A haughty spirit before the fall.'"

Jason looked at her. "Revelation?" he guessed.

Wendy managed a smile. "Proverbs 16:18," she corrected.

Jason sighed. "I'll take it."

***

Greg groaned in annoyance when he saw who waited for them back at Firehouse 51. "You gotta be kidding me."

"Nope," Evan shook his head and pointed towards the bunkroom. "Come on. Hop to it."

Greg's complaining made the rest of the firehouse laugh, and Wendy shook her head as she watched. "I had almost forgotten you had a better best friend than me," she said mockingly.

Jason looked at her. "Is that jealousy I hear, Lieutenant?" he grinned.

"What?" Wendy scoffed, but he heard the waver in her tone. "It's true. I go back to doing paperwork, and . . . you go bond over chasing cats out of trees or whatever you do."

"Well, Evan's probably got more paperwork than you, being the Paramedic Field Chief and all," Jason joked, lightly elbowing her in the ribs. It made Wendy smile, and Jason sighed. "Look, Evan's not better," he told her. "Different? Absolutely. But not better. He's the level head out of our group."

"It's not Greg?" Wendy raised an eyebrow.

Jason snorted. "Oh, not when something really pisses him off. I run hot, Greg runs cold . . . and Evan somehow headlocks us into place." Wendy giggled at the mental image, and Jason nodded. "Yeah, we go back to this . . . but the thrill we've gotten when working these cases with you? That's a unique thrill that I don't think Evan will ever be into like we are. You're stuck with us, Wendy. Sorry to disappoint you."

Wendy gave him a brilliant smile. "What's there to be disappointed about?"

Jason pulled her in for a hug, then Herrmann sniffed. "Gallo . . . is that what I think it is?" he asked.

"Yeah!" Gallo grinned from the stove. "Casey's corned beef."

Boden, who had been on his way out the door to headquarters, abruptly turned on his heel. "In that case, I'm definitely staying for lunch," he decided.

Gallo smiled as he held up a plate. "And the first plate goes to Lieutenant Seager."

Wendy did a double take. "Me?" she repeated, pointing to herself in disbelief.

"Yeah," Gallo nodded. "Unless you're not sticking around for lunch?"

Wendy raised an eyebrow at the challenging look, and she took the plate with a smile. "Better hope this isn't the last time I stick around for lunch."

"Oh, them's fighting words!" Cruz laughed.

Gallo used the tongs to salute. "Enjoy!"

Wendy giggled and took a set of silverware as the rest of 51, sans Greg, gathered around to get their lunch. A polite cough caught her attention, however, and she turned to see Herrmann and Mouch walk up to her. "Seager," Herrmann fidgeted. "Can we talk to you?"

"Sure," Wendy nodded, expecting friendly conversation. She didn't expect them to usher her out of earshot, and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What's going on?"

Mouch cleared his throat. "The floater lieutenant on 81 today knew Pelham from watching the Copes Warehouse fire last year," he said. "Back when Pelham was floating at 41."

"OK," Wendy said slowly, not sure where the questions were leading.

"Then the squad floater lieutenant said to pass along a message to him from Pete Tipler from 111," Herrmann told her. "Said he and Pelham worked together for a few months when McPherson was laid up after back surgery."

"I'm an OFI lieutenant," Wendy reminded him. "I don't know these names, guys. What's the question?"

"Those positions were all within the year before he came to 51," Mouch told her. "All temporary, never permanent."

"Yeah," Wendy nodded. "Jason said he's been in the floater pool for a while."

"But for that long?" Herrmann frowned. "Seager . . . doesn't it make you kind of wonder why he's been floating so many places, never got a command of his own?"

Wendy narrowed her eyes. "Is his command here in danger?" she asked, feeling her spine straighten as she prepared to defend the friend who had just made her feel welcomed.

Herrmann must have recognized it, for he raised his hands. "Sorry," he backed away. "Just . . . thought you might know something."

Wendy leaned in the doorframe as Herrmann and Mouch rejoined the rest of 51, and her eyes tracked Jason as he spoke to his crew, Capp and Tony regaling him with some story while Cruz occasionally interjected. She wanted to push the conversation out of her head, but Herrmann's words continued to whisper in her brain. She had meant what she said: as an OFI lieutenant, she didn't have any idea of who the mentioned firefighters were. She did know a lot about the CFD protocols, and as Greg and Evan reemerged, Jason beelining for his friends, she thought Herrmann did have a point . . . an entire year in the floater pool with no permanent position was something she had never heard about before.

And as she swallowed and walked to join Jason when he beckoned for her to join them, the corned beef on her plate appeared far less appetizing than it had before.

***

Carlos was first through the door of Danica's home, the patrol officer representing the team when Washington led a team of officers to search Danica's residence. As officers reported their progress through the apartment, Carlos looked around the living room, eyes peeled for any sign of Katie. When Washington reappeared in the doorway to the kitchen, gun at the ready, Carlos holstered his. "House is clear," he reported.

"We must have just missed Danica," Washington told him. "Stuff in the dry rack is still wet."

Carlos nodded and looked around, then he spotted something on a chair that made him freeze. "Wherever Danica went, she took Katie with her," he gulped. "She was here." He yanked a pillow off the chair, revealing the well-loved stuffed animal underneath. "That's the rabbit from the video."

"Alright," Washington nodded, a steely look in her eyes. "I want two unmarked units on this house in case they come back and put an Amber Alert on Danica's jeep. Let's just hope we didn't miss our chance."

***

"Do you know the amount of times I tried to get into this restaurant since we landed in Austin?" Owen griped as he watched Olivia take back her card from their waiter, Elliot laughing from the final seat at their table. "What did you do, flash your badge?"

Olivia grinned unashamedly at him. "And I mentioned your name, too."

Owen stared. "That's never worked with me!"

"It was probably the two names together," Elliot pointed out as he flipped through his wallet and pulled out cash for a tip. "Aren't they a little notorious when put together?"

Olivia snorted as she stood from her chair. "Try the three of us put together."

"Sounds like a really bad idea," Elliot quipped.

Owen rolled his eyes as he joined them in standing from the table. "I think Los Angeles has learned that by now."

"And hopefully every police and fire department that was in the area learned that, too." Olivia's words were sweet, but her smile resembled a shark's as she shrugged on her jacket. "Oh, hang on," she blinked, searching her pockets.

Owen pulled out his phone as it buzzed, and he watched every patron in the restaurant do the same. "Alert of some kind," he murmured as he turned on his screen.

Elliot narrowed his eyes. "Whaddya know," he turned his phone around to show Olivia as she pulled out hers. "Score for the patrol officer."

Amber Alert, Austin, TX. 6yr old Katie Conrad; Abducted by Danica Hendry – Driving a red Jeep TX license plate 76R-872U.

"Wow," Owen whistled through his teeth. "You guys found who did it."

"Carlos made the breakthrough," Olivia nodded as they headed for the door. "Turns out Katie's imaginary friend was her former nanny's filtered voice coming through the nanny cam in her room."

Owen balked. "That sounds creepy as hell."

"You should've tried searching through all the footage stored," Elliot shook his head, pursing his lips as Olivia handed her valet ticket to the person at the stand. "It was creepy as hell seeing the progression from when 'Mr. Whispers' first spoke to when Katie started the fire."

Olivia nodded, a grim look on her face. "Many dolls lost their pigtails due to Mr. Whispers' influence."

Owen made a face. "My condolences? I think?"

Olivia shook her head as the valet pulled up with her rental car. "I think those dolls will be replaced very easily once Katie is reunited with her family. Thank you," she told the valet, handing him a twenty-dollar bill.

Owen opened the back seat, then the squeal of tires caught his attention. He turned to the road with a frown, then did a double take when he saw the car that sped past them and abruptly turned left. "Wait," he tapped Elliot on the shoulder and pointed. "Isn't that – ?"

Elliot quickly saw what he did, and he narrowed his eyes. "Liv!" he barked as he ran to the driver's seat. "You're riding shotgun!"

"I what?" Olivia stared at him incredulously.

"And call 9-1-1!" Elliot added as he climbed into the driver's seat, already revving the engine. "Get in!"

Olivia quickly ducked into the car, phone in her hand. Owen had barely shut his door before Elliot jammed his foot on the accelerator, and the fire captain yelped as he was thrown across the back seat as Elliot drove out onto the road and turned to follow the jeep. "Elliot!" he protested.

"Sorry!" Elliot winced as Olivia held up her phone. "Trying to catch a kidnapper here!"

"I hate you sometimes!" Owen groused as he searched for the seat belt.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"Maddie!" Elliot sighed in relief. "Thank God."

"Detective Stabler?" Maddie asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I have Liv and Owen with me, listen," Elliot narrowed his eyes, hands tight on the steering wheel as he caught up to the red jeep. "We're in active pursuit of a vehicle matching the description in the Katie Conrad Amber Alert. Red jeep heading northbound on Houston, license plate reading seven six Robert eight seven two union."

"Copy, Detective." Maddie sounded all business now. "APD is en route."

"Wait a minute," Owen poked his head over Elliot's shoulder. "Maddie, I think they may be headed for the freeway!"

"I'll relay to APD," Maddie promised. "Do not attempt to confront the suspect at this time."

"'At this time?'" Olivia parroted as she hung up. "Does she know you?"

"Oh, like you wouldn't do the exact same thing I'm doing!" Elliot retorted.

"We all would!" Owen scoffed.

"Hang on, up Houston," Olivia reached and buckled her seatbelt as she opened up Google maps. "Weren't Cosgrove and Price meeting somewhere up in that area?"

"Call one of them and let them know!" Elliot barked as he swerved to avoid another vehicle. A yelp and a thud from the back seat had him scowling in the rearview mirror. "And buckle up already, Owen!"

"What do you think I've been trying to do while you're driving like a damn madman?" Owen ground out as he finally jammed his belt into the buckle.

***

"OK," Frank decided as he held open the door to the coffee shop for Nolan. "Most annoying client you ever had as a defense attorney?"

"Oh, that's easy," Nolan scoffed as he finished his croissant and tossed the wrapper into the nearest trash can. "Greenworks."

"That company that's come under scrutiny for its camerawork?" Frank raised an eyebrow. "You represented them?"

"They paid me too much money to say no," Nolan deadpanned, making Frank scoff. "Seriously, I think one of their paychecks alone paid for my place."

"One?" Frank looked at him in surprise as he unlocked his car. "You represented them multiple times?"

"I think it was at least four," Nolan tilted his head thoughtfully as he opened the passenger door. "The amount of times their 'hidden cameras' and contracts to keep them in place are going to bite them in the ass some time soon, and if that ever happens while I'm prosecuting, it's going to be a joy to take them down."

Frank laughed as he took a sip of his coffee. "Let me sit in on that trial when it happens?"

"Bet," Nolan agreed, taking out his phone when it rang. "Price."

"It's Benson," Olivia told him, and Nolan blinked at her curt voice. "Is Cosgrove there?"

"Yeah, right next to me," Nolan frowned as he looked at Frank. "Why? What's going on?"

"Put me on speaker phone and tell me he's driving."

"Why does that worry me?" Nolan grumbled as he switched the phone to speaker.

"What worries you?" Frank frowned.

"If your driving is anywhere near as insane as Elliot's!" Owen's faint voice was heard.

"I'll make it up to you!" Elliot snapped.

The blare of car horns was heard in the background, and Frank narrowed his eyes as he turned on his car. "What the hell are you three doing?"

"Chasing Danica Hendry's jeep up Houston," Olivia answered.

Nolan's eyes widened, and he hastily fastened his seat belt, already guessing where this was going. "You mean up our way?"

"That's what we were hoping you were gonna say."

"Hold on," Frank scowled.

Nolan quickly reached over and grabbed their coffees before they spilled as Frank barreled out of his parking spot and roared down Houston. "A little warning next time!" he huffed.

"I did warn you!" Frank protested.

"Then next time we don't have scalding hot drinks in the car before you go chasing after a kidnapper!"

"Oh, good," Owen huffed. "Now someone understands what I'm going through."

"I said I'll make it up to you!" Elliot barked.

"Cosgrove, they're heading for the freeway!" Olivia warned.

"Yes, because I've already memorized Austin's roads in, what, the week or so I've been here!" Frank snorted as he continued on Houston. "Thanks, that's really helpful!"

Nolan groaned in exasperation. "Just drive the car!"

"What do you think I'm doing, Nolan?!"

"Jeep's turning!" Olivia warned.

"Up there!" Nolan pointed.

***

Elliot made the turn just a few seconds before Frank, that extra time allowing him to drive past the jeep. "Got your backup?" he asked.

"I'm not a rookie," Olivia huffed, bending down and pulling her backup weapon from its holster tucked into her boot.

Elliot nodded and jerked the wheel as hard as he could, and the car stopped nose to nose with the jeep. "Stay here," he told Owen.

"Yep," Owen nodded, wincing as he rolled his shoulders. "Geez."

Olivia stepped out at the same time as Danica, and the redheaded kidnapper stormed forward, face twisted with an ugly sneer. "What the hell is wrong with you?" the woman screeched. "I have my daughter in the car!"

"That's not your daughter," Olivia sneered, raising her gun and aiming at Danica, the screech of tires alerting them to Frank and Nolan's arrival. "NYPD. Get away from the car."

Danica's eyes widened, then she lurched forward, a glint of silver in the air. "Knife!" Elliot warned with a lunge.

Olivia easily sidestepped the swing, and Danica stumbled right into Elliot. The detective grabbed her wrist and pushed Danica forward, shoving her back onto the hood of the jeep. "Drop it!" Olivia warned, aiming at Danica's head.

"Do what she says!" Frank joined her, his own backup weapon aimed. "Drop the knife!"

Elliot's fingers curled around Danica's wrist and slowly tightened, and Danica finally dropped the knife with a gasp. "Check on Katie!" he called.

Owen ran to the jeep, closely followed by Nolan. He opened the back door, and he sighed in relief when he saw the blonde-haired girl sitting unharmed. "Hi, honey," he gave a comforting smile. "Are you OK?"

"I wanna go home," Katie whimpered, tears in her eyes.

"You will soon, I promise," Owen nodded, holding out his hand. "Come on out, and we'll get you to your parents, OK?"

Katie placed her hand in his, and Nolan held open the door so Owen could help Katie out. "You're safe," the prosecutor smiled at her. "I promise."

The wail of sirens alerted them to the arrival of reinforcements, and doors flew open from every vehicle. "Hands!" one of the officers shouted, gun aimed. "Let's see your hands!"

"NYPD Captain Olivia Benson," Olivia held up her badge with her other hand. "This is Detectives Elliot Stabler and Frank Cosgrove."

"That's them," Carlos confirmed as he jogged to join them. "And Captain Strand and Counselor Price."

"Carlos," Owen waved. "Hope your ride here was smoother than mine."

Elliot rolled his eyes in annoyance as he handed Danica over to be handcuffed. "Seriously, Owen?"

"Yeah, which of us are the ones that chase suspects for a living?" Frank raised an eyebrow pointedly.

Nolan sighed. "I need a drink other than coffee."

***

The smile Carlos had on his face was nowhere near as wide as the faces on the Conrads as they swept Katie into their arms when he and Washington returned the little girl to her family. "I'm sorry I burned our house down," the girl mumbled, burying her face into her parents.

Their laughter still echoed in Carlos's head as Washington silently closed the door, allowing the family time to reunite. "You did good work, Reyes," she told him.

"It was a team effort," Carlos shrugged.

"You may have worked with the New Yorkers," Washington conceded. "But Captain Benson told me it was your breakthrough that got us here."

Carlos ducked his head, smiling shyly. "Thank you, Detective."

"First Iris Blake, now Katie Conrad," Washington smirked. "Anyone ever tell you you are a pushy bastard?"

Carlos blushed that time. "Well . . . my boyfriend thinks that I'm a control freak."

Washington chuckled. "He's not wrong." Carlos offered a sheepish smile, which she laughed at. "You ever think of taking the detective exam?" she asked.

Carlos blinked in shock. "Really?"

"Yeah, why not?" Washington patted his shoulder. "We could use a few more pushy bastards."

Carlos watched her leave the floor, a thoughtful look on his face.

***

"You what?" Ben stared.

Kelly just laughed loudly as he searched through the fridge and started pulling out a few beer bottles. "It is hereditary!"

"Oh, my God," Nolan pinched the bridge of his nose, listening as Griffin joined his brother's hysterical laughter. "Severide . . . "

"What?" Kelly grinned at him as he passed a beer to Frank, Sylvie's teeth buried in her lip to avoid laughing at the resigned look on Nolan's face. "I feel vindicated!"

"He's the one who took off driving like a maniac!" Nolan pointed at Frank.

"And between you and me, who's the one most likely to have a car chase through Manhattan, huh?" Frank countered with narrowed eyes.

"You," Lily pointed at her father immediately.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Frank smirked smugly.

Nolan grumbled as he took one of the wine glasses handed to him by Sylvie. "She's biased."

"And she's not?" Frank challenged with a point to Sylvie.

"Hey, I haven't said anything!" Sylvie held up her hands.

Matt, meanwhile, had a contemplative look on his face as he removed the cap on his bottle. "Red jeep," he mused. "Didn't one of those go flying out of the drive-thru lane when we were out?"

Kelly paused mid-drink as he thought. "Yeah, there was," Lily nodded with a frown. "Left the server in the window with their orders, too."

"Danica Hendry drove a red jeep," Frank nodded.

Matt sighed. "Damn it . . . wish I'd paid more attention to the license plate."

Nolan snorted into his wine glass. "Maybe then I wouldn't have had to experience Frank's version of a car chase."

Frank narrowed his eyes at him over his bottle, then gave an innocent look that was so like Lily's. "You could've gotten out of the car any time you wanted, Nolan."

Nolan scowled. "You wouldn't have stopped."

"Nope!" Frank grinned, making Lily giggle.

Nolan eyed his glass. "Sylvie, can I get a refill?"

She held out her hand. "Gimme."

"Put it this way, Nolan," Matt leaned his forearms on the counter, a grin on his face. "You just had to deal with Frank . . . Owen had to deal with Benson and Stabler."

Nolan balked, and Griffin and Ben burst out laughing again. "That would be so much worse!" Ben crowed, almost falling off the couch.

"Put them with Owen," Nolan snorted. "That's worse."

"Clever as hell, though," Kelly pointed out.

"Protective as hell," Matt added.

Kelly snorted. "Yeah, we've already seen Owen go to bat for his family . . . the rest of these guys haven't seen Benson and Stabler on a warpath when it comes to Owen."

"And I don't think I want to," Nolan shook his head. "Because I got the rundown at Cedars-Sinai, and I never want to be on the other end of their guns when they're crusading on Owen's behalf."

Frank frowned. "I'm starting to think people have undersold what actually happened at that warehouse."

Sylvie shrugged. "The only ones who were inside when the sniper went down were Owen, Benson, and Stabler," she told him. "And all we know is whatever they've told us."

"But considering all the tall tales that already go around New York because of how tightly knit they are . . . " Nolan shrugged. "Well."

Frank grimaced. "Yeah, that's all you really need to say."

"But enough about that," Sylvie grinned as she flopped onto the couch and leaned so she rested against Nolan, who had perched on the arm; Lily's eyes widened enviously when not a single drop of wine in Sylvie's glass sloshed over the rim. "The 126 so far has a perfect record when it comes to saving lives, and our favorite police officers reunited a family and sent a horrible stalker nanny to prison."

Nolan snorted and slung his free arm around Sylvie's shoulders. "You have a way with words."

Sylvie stuck her tongue out at him, even as her free hand reached up and grabbed his in a vice-like grip. "That's also hereditary."

Lily bit her lip as she pulled her legs up to her chest. "That means we go home soon."

Frank sighed and ran his hand over his daughter's hair, letting her rest her head on his knee. "We have to go home eventually, honey."

"We have your number, though," Griffin smiled. "We can text you any time."

"Yeah, Sylvie and I are constantly talking to each other," Nolan nodded, Sylvie beaming at the words. "Kind of annoys Jack, but since I don't use my phone while in court, there's not much he can really do about it."

Matt nodded, looking around the room. "Our rings are on if you ever need us," he promised.

Lily smiled widely, and Frank felt a smile form on his face, too. The captain meant it . . . that they would answer if any of them needed to call. "Thank you, Casey," he said sincerely.

Matt held out his beer bottle. "What else is family for?" he asked with a grin.

Frank nodded in agreement and tapped his bottle against Matt's. "Amen to that."

***

A deputy fire chief and two veterans in the NYPD walk out of a restaurant and can't even leave without getting drawn into trouble XD Poor Owen having to deal with Bensler's shenanigans. As for Frank and Nolan . . . well, that's just the beginning of their antics ;)

I've had a few people ask, both in this book and the last one, whether the storyline behind Pelham's time in the floater pool would ever be revealed, and here's your answer! I loved Pelham's story with 51, and I'm so glad I get to explore it now that he's going to be a permanent fixture as Squad 3's lieutenant. Wonder how Greg's gonna take all the snooping . . .

But that's a story for another chapter. For now, refamiliarize yourself with TK's character bio!

***

Tyler

English, "maker of tiles"

Melancholic

brooding, thoughtful, sensitive

The Sage

charming, entertaining, expressive

Type 2, The Helper

demonstrative, people-pleasing, possessive

ENFP

The Champion

Slytherin

ambition, cunning, resourceful

Aquarius

the revolutionary, independent, progressive, humanitarian

Air

witty, charming, independent

The Upright Devil

addiction, secrecy, dependency, sexuality

Archetypes

Dark and Troubled Past, Dead Guy Junior, Extremely Protective Child, In the Blood, Not Good with Rejection, Parent-Child Team, Romantic Wingman, Straight Gay, Recovered Addict, Tropaholics Anonymous

Neutral Good

The Benefactor

Status

alive

***

We have one last member of the main five to look at, and we'll get that next time! Up next: "The ATX Files," "What Happened at Whiskey Point?" and "Impossible Dream!"

graphic by marvelity