13K+ words in . . . *checks the time* Seven hours. Boy, I really wanted the OC episode done XD Lots of characters to work in here, but this was a beast to write. Hopefully the next one won't be such a weight, but I wanted to push this out to continue the story. There's plot to progress, people!

The hunt for Eli Stabler is on, and in an effort to give Carlos something to do, Frank has a brilliant idea. Carlos doesn't regret agreeing one bit.

Benson's character bio is at the end, and for those of you who haven't seen or don't read my other big crossover, a new chapter sign-off, too!

***

The door to Elliot's home slammed open with a bang, and Elliot charged inside with Kathleen, Dickie, and Owen on his heels. "Eli!" Elliot bellowed.

Bernadette Stabler scowled and glanced down the hall from where she stood atop a stepladder, attempting to place something back in the cabinet. "I told you, he's not here!" she griped.

Elliot huffed. "Get her down from there!" Kathleen and Dickie immediately rushed to help Bernadette, and Elliot looked around. "Lizzie?"

"Here, Dad!" Elizabeth ran from the other direction, her face pale. "I'm sorry, I've been trying to call him."

"It's OK," Elliot held up his hand and pulled out his phone. "I'll give it a try."

Elizabeth bit her lip and nodded worriedly. "Hey," Owen gave her a comforting smile. "We'll find him."

Elizabeth gave him a weak smile in return. "Good to see you, Uncle Owen."

Owen hugged her with a small chuckle, watching Dickie and Kathleen usher Bernadette onto one of the chairs at the island. "I like hearing that again."

Elliot made a face after a few seconds and pulled his phone away from his ear. "I'll give it one more try." He dialed Eli's number again, but after a few seconds of the phone trilling, he shook his head and turned to Dickie. "OK, Dickie, you try. Maybe he'll pick up your call."

"I shouldn't have let him go," Bernadette sighed. "I'm sorry. It's my fault."

"It's not your fault, Mama," Elliot shook his head.

"Yeah, it is," she insisted.

"Alright, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Owen advised, holding up his hands placatingly. "The last thing we need is to lose our heads to panic."

***

The trill of a phone interrupted Kelly relaying one of his arson investigations to the teenagers, and Frank quickly swallowed his drink and checked his Caller ID. His curious expression was quickly replaced by intense focus, and Nolan straightened in his chair as the detective answered his phone. "Cosgrove," he said, listening intently to the other line. "Yeah, send me the address. I'm on my way."

He hung up with a sigh and stood from his chair, and Matt looked at him sympathetically. "Caught a case?" he asked.

Frank nodded grimly. "Unfortunately, killings don't stop just because the cops are visiting with friends."

"Wouldn't it be nice if they did?" Nolan sighed.

"You have no idea," Frank nodded in agreement and looked at Lily apologetically. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I need to run."

"That's OK," she told him. "I can stay, can't I?"

Frank glanced at the rest of the adults, and Sylvie nodded. "She can stay with us as long as you need to get going on the case, Frank."

"Thanks," Frank smiled gratefully. "But the time it might take – "

"I can take her back to yours if you need me to," Nolan volunteered. "Jack gave me tomorrow off because of the Wheatley trial. I've got the time to spare."

"Are you sure?" Frank asked worriedly. "I don't want to impose – "

Nolan waved away his concern. "Frank, I wouldn't offer if you were. Get going, and just let me know, OK?"

"OK," Frank agreed, and he hugged Lily and kissed the top of her head. "Don't cause too much trouble."

Lily giggled. "Who, me?"

Frank shook his head exasperatedly as the Dardens laughed. "Why did I try?" he sighed as he headed for the door.

He shrugged on his overcoat when he stepped outside, then he paused in his tracks and checked the address sent to him. If he had his directions right . . .

He switched back to his contacts and hit a number, waiting for the other person to pick up. "Cosgrove?" Carlos asked in surprise.

"Hey, Reyes," Frank greeted, frowning when he heard an edge to the young officer's voice. "Everything OK?"

"Uh . . . " There was a muffled conversation on the other end, and Frank's concern grew. "Not really, but I'm not sure I'm much of a help right now," Carlos admitted.

Frank winced. "You need a distraction?"

"What kind of distraction?"

"I just got a call from Dixon," he replied as he walked towards his car. "I've seen you work in Austin. Wanna see how we tackle homicides here in New York?"

"You're sure?" Carlos asked.

Frank grinned when he heard the faint eagerness of the question. "If you're at Benson's, you're on my way to the scene. What do you say?"

"I'm heading down now."

***

The parking garage was teeming with police when Frank pulled up, and Carlos whistled lowly as he stepped out of the passenger's side. "A bit more intimidating seeing everything here in the city."

"You learn to navigate through all of this really quickly," Frank agreed, nodding approvingly when he noted Carlos had hung his badge around his neck. "Keep that in sight. You may get a few curious looks from the crew sent here, but you're with me and Bernard, so you should be good to go."

"Thanks again for this," Carlos told him gratefully as they descended into the garage. "I felt a little useless sitting around and waiting for an update from the Stablers."

"The Stablers?" Frank looked at him sharply. "What's going on?"

Carlos winced. "Eli pulled a disappearing act. Owen is with them, and they're trying to figure out where he's gone."

"Damn," Frank winced. "You mind keeping me in the loop on that? Just in case they need a bigger cavalry?"

Carlos nodded in agreement. "Copy that."

Kevin was waiting for them as they approached the crime scene tape. "I hear we're a team of three for this case," he remarked.

"If you don't mind," Carlos smiled sheepishly.

"Not at all," Kevin shook his head. "Frank shared about your missing persons case in Austin, and Benson made sure your assistance in the initial investigation into Kathy Stabler's case was no secret. Glad I finally get to see what you're made of."

Carlos looked worriedly at Frank. "Why does that sound ominous?"

Kevin just chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Why don't you come with me, and I'll show you how we get the ball rolling."

"Which leaves me to do the talking," Frank rolled his eyes in exaggeration and rummaged through his coat pocket. "Thanks, Kevin."

"Any time," Kevin smirked, beckoning for Carlos to follow him. "Let's get to work, Reyes."

Carlos hastily jogged to catch up with the senior detective, quickly glancing over his shoulder at Frank as he went. Despite the older man's previous irritation, he gave Carlos a thumbs up before crossing to talk to the woman who stood nearby with a few CSIs. Carlos took a deep breath and continued to follow Kevin, who met up with a man in a medical examiner's jacket. "Judging by temp and lividity, I'd put time of death somewhere in the neighborhood of 6:00 to 8:00 p.m.," he said.

Kevin nodded, passing a pair of latex gloves to Carlos. "Cause of death?" he asked, slipping on a pair of his own.

The medical examiner gestured nearby where a bloodstained sheet was draped over the body. "Pretty sure it wasn't a heart attack."

Kevin nodded. "Let's see." The medical examiner pulled away the sheet, and Carlos grimaced when he saw the man's skull caved in, blood caked in his hair and pooling on the ground under him. Kevin merely hummed and tilted his head. "Any defensive wounds?" he asked.

"No indications of bruising or abrasions on his hands," the medical examiner answered.

"Getting hit in the back like that?" Carlos pointed. "He probably didn't see it coming."

"Using a fire extinguisher as a weapon," Kevin eyed the blood-covered extinguisher next to the body. "It feels kind of personal."

"Sure looks that way," the medical examiner agreed.

"Yeah," Kevin nodded. "Thanks." The medical examiner stepped away, and Carlos crouched down to take a closer look. "I know you're a patrol officer," Kevin said. "You seen anything like this before?"

"No," Carlos admitted. "Then again, I've learned to expect almost anything with the 126."

"I feel like that should be the firehouse's motto at this point," Frank remarked as he joined them. "Though leave out the 'almost.'"

"Good point," Carlos conceded.

As he searched the victim's body, Frank turned to Kevin. "Witness didn't see anyone coming in or out," he reported. "Neither did the attendant at the gate. Cameras in this part of the garage are a bust – water damage on the hard drive – so I got a video canvas going around the perimeter." Kevin nodded, and Frank looked down to see Carlos flip open the victim's wallet. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"There's plenty of cash and credit cards in here," Carlos answered after a brief search. "I think that rules out a robbery for now."

Frank nodded in agreement. "And who's our victim?"

Carlos pulled out an ID, and his eyes widened. "The Honorable David Keating," he told them.

Kevin whistled lowly. "Looks like our DOA was a judge."

Frank shook his head. "Not the verdict he was looking for."

***

"I was at the neighbor's," the victim's wife told the trio later that night, swallowing hard. "We have a book club."

"Do you have any idea where your husband was coming from?" Kevin questioned.

"Courthouse?" Keating guessed. "He gets home every night at the same time: 7:00, almost to the minute."

"Mrs. Keating, do you know of anyone who might want to hurt your husband?" Frank asked. "Was he having any problems? Professional, personal?"

Keating considered. "The past few months, David was distracted," she answered. "He was a good man, but he had his . . . moods. I asked him what was going on several times, but that just seemed to aggravate him more. When he was walking out the door this morning, I . . . " She bit her lip. "I told him that I was tired of walking on eggshells and that he needed to adjust his attitude." Her face crumpled, and she sobbed into her hand. "That's the last thing I said to him!"

Frank winced sympathetically. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Keating," Carlos told her, his face sincere. "Do you know what was troubling him?"

"Uh . . . " Keating sniffed as she thought. "It was probably his work. He . . . it was always in the middle of someone else's crisis. You know, divorce, custody, visitation rights. It's a lot."

***

Frank opened the door to his brownstone and shut it behind him, sighing heavily as he clicked the lock into place. "Nolan?" he asked, keeping his voice relatively low.

"In the kitchen," his best friend answered. Frank hung up his coat by the door and headed into the kitchen where Nolan sat at the counter flipping through papers in a folder. He glanced up when Frank entered, and he smiled as he closed the folder. "Nice place you got."

Frank snorted as he found a glass. "It's not high-end, but it's home. Thank you for staying with Lily." He checked the glowing clock on the microwave and winced as he filled his water glass. "At least you have today off."

"Frank, it was no trouble at all," Nolan assured him, packing the folder into his briefcase. "You could be on call at any time of the day or night. I get it. If there's any way I can help out when something like this comes up again, I've got you."

Frank sighed in relief and took a drink. "You're a godsend. But now you only have yourself to blame if I use you as a sitter from now on."

"Hoist on my own petard, I believe the saying goes," Nolan quipped, leaning on the counter. "So, what is the wheel of justice giving us this time?"

"Murdered judge," Frank answered.

Nolan did a double take. "Excuse me?"

"Judge David Keating," Frank elaborated. "Name ring a bell to you?"

Nolan tilted his head thoughtfully, absently drumming his fingers on the countertop. "No," he finally shook his head. "Then again, family court and homicide don't normally cross paths, and I didn't take many family cases while I was a defense attorney." Frank nodded, and Nolan glanced at him. "Murder weapon?"

"Left at the scene," Frank smiled dryly. "Fire extinguisher, right to the back of his head." Nolan grimaced, and Frank nodded. "Chipped off part of the skull and everything."

Nolan made a face. "Glad I got that image in my head before I went to sleep tonight." Frank laughed, and Nolan stood from his chair. "You'll be up and at it early, I take it?"

"Yeah," Frank confirmed, pushing off the counter and following Nolan to the entryway. "Thanks again, Nolan."

"You're welcome," Nolan smiled and opened the door. "Sleep well."

"You, too," Frank nodded.

Nolan disappeared down the steps, and Frank lingered in the doorway until he saw Nolan enter the cab he hailed. He shut the door behind him and sighed, pulling out his phone and sending a quick text to Carlos.

Frank: Anything new?

Carlos: I just got back to Benson's and Stone's

Carlos: They haven't heard a thing

***

Owen shook his head and pulled his phone away from his ear. "It was worth a shot," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Despite all his years as a fire captain, the switch to deputy chief meant he was no longer as used to staying up until after 4:00 in the morning anymore. "He's not answering me, either."

"I put out a citywide alert," Elliot said as he walked into the kitchen, now out of his suit and shrugging on his overshirt.

"I tried Brett," Kathleen told him. "He hasn't seen Eli. I made him put his mom on the phone, she confirmed. We're gonna find him, Dad."

"Yeah," Bernadette walked out of the kitchen, a tray of tea and mugs in her hands. "I just hope we won't find him dead."

"Grandma!" Kathleen whipped around, eyes wide.

"Whoa!" Owen swooped forward, grabbing Kathleen and pulling her away before she ran into the tray. "Careful!"

Kathleen gasped and stumbled, her hand over her heart. "Oh, my God," she swallowed. "Thanks, Uncle Owen."

"Yeah," Owen patted her shoulder comfortingly. "Hey, it happens."

Bernadette set the tray on the table and made her way to Elliot. "Alright, go ahead," she told him. "Say it."

"Say what?" Elliot frowned, genuinely confused.

"It's my fault," she said. "They were my pills."

"It's not your fault," Elliot shook his head. "It doesn't matter that – "

"I know what you're thinking!" Bernadette sobbed. "You're sorry that you took me in, if you hadn't taken – "

"I'm glad you're here, Mama," Elliot insisted, hugging her tightly. "I'm glad you're here. I'm the parent, he's my kid." He turned when he heard his phone ringing. "Just hold on a second," he said, hurrying to his phone and picking up. "Eli?" he asked hopefully. "Eli? Hello?"

"Dad?"

Eli's voice sounded groggy, but it was definitely his son, and Elliot's shoulders slumped in relief. "Eli, where are you?" he asked, and he heard a scramble to get to him as he walked into the kitchen. "What happened? Something happened. Are you hurt?"

"What's happening?" Bernadette asked desperately, and Owen appeared behind her, stopping her from getting closer. "Is he alright?"

"Are you hurt?" Elliot repeated.

"No."

Elliot nodded, leaning against the counter. "Are you with someone, or are you alone?"

"Um . . . " Eli's voice wavered. "I'm alone."

"OK," Elliot nodded. "Whatever's going on, it's gonna be OK. I just need to know where you are."

"Uh . . . Fort Lee."

Elliot frowned. "New Jersey."

Startled exclamations came from his family, and Elliot gestured for them to be quiet as Eli stammered. "I . . . I don't know what happened. I . . . I need help."

Eli sounded seconds from breaking down into tears, and Elliot's heart broke for his son. "Well, I'm here for you," he promised fiercely. "I'm gonna help you, but I need to know exactly where you are."

"A payphone," Eli answered. "Uh . . . Bridge Plaza North and Lemoine Avenue."

"Stay put," Elliot ordered. "You hear me?"

"Dad," Eli sniffed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't move," Elliot told him. "I'm coming to get you."

He hung up his phone and turned to Owen with desperate eyes. Before he could begin to speak, Owen crossed to him. "Do you want me to stay or come with you?" he asked.

"Go with him," Kathleen answered before Elliot could.

"We'll be OK here," Dickie agreed. "Go with Dad."

Elizabeth and Bernadette nodded, and Elliot swallowed. "Thanks," he managed to say before sprinting to grab his jacket and his keys.

He dialed on his phone as he wrenched open the door, and he heard Owen run to catch up with him as he sped down the hall. Olivia answered on the first ring. "What happened?" she asked.

"Can Owen and I come pick you up?" Elliot asked in one breath.

"Just tell me what time to expect you."

***

Olivia had been waiting outside her building when Elliot veered to the sidewalk, and she slipped into the passenger seat in a second. She remained silent as Owen briefed her on what happened, Elliot's hand holding the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip as he drove as fast as he dared to New Jersey. "TK said he'll head over to yours once Carlos leaves," Olivia finally told Elliot. "Keep the entire family together for updates."

"Once Carlos leaves?" Owen parroted from his place in the back seat.

"The 2-7 got a case," Olivia explained. "Cosgrove asked if Carlos wanted to help them out. He said yes." Owen nodded in understanding, and Olivia turned to Elliot. "Talk to us," she urged.

"There's something wrong," Elliot said tightly. "He didn't sound right."

"Elliot, he's OK," Owen said. "We know that he's alive. He had the sense to call you."

"Yeah," Elliot swallowed. "He just . . . he said 'I'm sorry,' as if he disappointed me or something. It just sounded like he was in trouble."

"And whatever happened, we're gonna go, and we're gonna bring him home," Olivia said firmly, placing her hand on top of his. "We're gonna find out what is going on here and take it one step at a time."

Elliot clutched her hand tightly and nodded numbly. "Thanks for coming," he croaked. "Both of you."

Olivia silently squeezed in return, and Owen placed his hand on Elliot's shoulder. "Any time, brother," he promised.

Elliot nodded and scanned the streets until he found the intersection Eli had mentioned. "Where's the phone?" he asked. "Do you see it?"

Olivia craned her neck then pointed. "Yeah, right there!"

Elliot swerved to the side of the road, and the three jumped out of the car at the same time. Eli was nowhere to be found, and Olivia headed into one of the buildings nearby to search for him. Elliot and Owen searched along the sidewalk, Owen darting to the opposite side of the street to search there. When he didn't find his surrogate nephew, he made his way back to the other side. "Any luck?" he asked Olivia when she emerged from the building.

She shook her head, and Elliot looked around desperately. "Eli!" he shouted.

***

"It's family court," the clerk told the officers as she stood from her desk. "Everybody who walks in the door is having the worst day of their life."

"Yeah," Kevin nodded. "We're gonna need a complete list of his problem cases."

"Way ahead of you," the clerk said, plucking a stack of papers from the printer and handing it to them. "First ten pages are the judge's pending cases. The rest are people who threatened him."

Frank flipped through the pages and gave Carlos a wry look. "At least there's another set of eyes for this."

Carlos snorted, gamely holding out a hand. "Now I know why you recruited me."

Frank muffled a snicker as he passed a portion of the stack to Carlos. Kevin merely acknowledged their byplay with a raised eyebrow before turning back to the clerk. "Does any case or person stand out?" he asked.

"Not really," the clerk shook her head. "But there's one thing that's not on the list. Judge mentioned someone confronted him on the courthouse steps the other day. He seemed pretty rattled."

"When was this?" Frank asked.

"Day before yesterday," the clerk answered. "He was on his way to the dentist."

***

The trio must have made quite the sight as they hustled through the Fort Lee precinct, Elliot looking around wildly. "Eli Stabler!" he finally barked. "Where is he?"

An officer looked away from a filing cabinet and towards them. "Detective Stabler?" he asked.

"Yeah," Elliot nodded impatiently.

"Officer Lucas Buono," he introduced himself, holding out his hand. "I'm the one who called you." He glanced at Olivia and Owen. "And you are . . . ?"

"They're family," Elliot said firmly.

"Captain Olivia Benson," Olivia offered. "This is Deputy Chief Owen Strand, Austin FD." Owen waved at his name. "Are you the one who talked him down?"

Lucas nodded, and Elliot shook his hand gratefully. "Thank you," he said. "Where is he?"

Lucas pointed to a conference room nearby, and Owen glanced through the window to see Eli huddled up in a chair, his trembling visible even with the thick blanket wrapped around him. "Oh, Eli," he sighed sadly, reaching up to grip Elliot's shoulder.

Elliot returned the grip tightly, his eyes locked on his son. "So what happens now?" Olivia asked quietly. "Where are you taking him?"

"Bergen General," Lucas answered. "Psych eval. You know the drill."

Olivia nodded, and Elliot turned to Lucas. "Can I go in?" he asked. "Can I talk to him?"

"Of course," Lucas nodded, heading to the door.

Owen started to release Elliot's shoulder, but he winced when Elliot's grip turned vicelike, refusing to let him go. "Sorry," Elliot cleared his throat, looking from Owen to Olivia. "Just . . . please?"

"Yeah," Owen nodded. "We're right behind you."

Lucas opened the door, and Olivia smiled gratefully to him. "Thank you," she said, following the men into the room.

"Hey," Elliot began as he walked towards Eli, then he started when Eli lurched from his chair and hugged him as tightly as he could. "OK, OK," Elliot murmured, returning the hug.

"I'm sorry," Eli sobbed into his neck.

"There's no need to be sorry," Elliot shook his head, rubbing Eli's back. "I'm sorry that you're hurting so bad. We're gonna work it out, me and you, right? We'll get help, right? We'll get help, we'll figure it out." Eli nodded shakily, finally pulling away from the hug. "Alright," Elliot nodded in return.

Eli glanced around the room, and his eyes grew wide when he saw Olivia and Owen in the corner. "What are they doing here?" he stammered.

"They were concerned for you," Elliot answered, frowning at Eli's terror. "They're just concerned."

"It's OK, Eli," Owen said quietly. "We're just glad to see you're OK."

"You gave us all quite a scare," Olivia nodded.

Eli shook his head and sniffed. "I'm not OK."

Dread bubbled in Elliot's heart, and he guided Eli to sit. "OK, what do you mean?" he asked, sitting next to his son. "What's going on?"

Eli stammered incomprehensibly, and Olivia pulled out the chair across from him. "Eli, whatever it is, it's gonna be OK," she told him. "Why don't you just tell us where you were last night?"

Eli licked his lips. "I met this girl," he began. "We . . . we were drinking. A lot. And, you know, I went back to her place, and . . . "

He trailed off, and Elliot nodded. "And what?" he prompted.

Eli glanced up at Owen and quickly looked away again. "I had a couple pills," he whispered, and Owen slowly nodded, now understanding Eli's reaction to his presence. "Um . . . four. We took them, and . . . "

"You both took two pills?" Olivia asked for clarification, and Eli nodded. "OK, and then what happened?"

"I don't know!" Eli burst out.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Elliot narrowed his eyes.

"I don't know!" Eli insisted. "I swear, I woke up on the floor, and it was, like, 4:00 in the morning, and . . . "

He whimpered, and Owen leaned forward. "And?" he prompted quietly. "You're doing good, Eli. Keep going."

Eli took a deep breath. "I . . . I went into the bedroom."

"You went into the bedroom, and what?" Elliot asked, watching his son shake even harder. "Eli, what happened to the girl?"

"She's dead," Eli gasped, and Elliot's heart plummeted as Owen looked sharply at Olivia. "I didn't know what to do! My phone was dead, they were my drugs! I – I ran out, and – "

"Look at me," Elliot gripped his arm.

"I found the payphone, and – "

"Look at me," Elliot shook Eli gently. "Look at me!" Eli turned to him, and Elliot locked eyes with him. "Did you tell anybody anything?"

"No," Eli shook his head.

"The cop on the bridge?"

"No!"

"No one?"

"No!"

"You're sure?"

"Eli," Olivia cut in, leaning across the table. "So what is this girl's name?"

"Her name's Mia," Eli answered.

"Mia?" Olivia nodded. "OK, what's Mia's last name? Did you know her before?"

"No," Eli shook his head. "We met that . . . we met last night, on the promenade, and she invited me."

"OK," Olivia nodded. "Eli . . . did you have sex with her?"

"Um . . . no," Eli gulped. "I don't think so. I don't . . . I don't think so. I mean . . . when I found her, she was naked, but I would remember that, right?"

Elliot swallowed and looked helplessly at his brother and sister. "I got this, El," Olivia whispered, reaching across the table and squeezing his arm.

Elliot nodded numbly and watched Olivia leave the room. "They were my drugs, Dad," Eli whimpered brokenly.

"I know," Elliot hugged Eli tightly, hating that he was unable to do more; Owen moved his chair to the other side of the table, sitting on Eli's other side in case he was needed. "I know."

***

"The clerk said the judge left the building around 4:15," Frank told the security officer who was scrolling through security footage. She forwarded through the tape, then Frank held up his hand. "Yeah, there," he said. "That's him."

Carlos watched the judge speak with the white-haired woman accompanying him, then a man in a leather jacket approached him and grabbed him by the lapels, shoving him into one of the pillars. "That's way more than a confrontation," he said.

"OK, I can't see his face," Kevin frowned, watching the man walk away as the woman attempted to help the judge. "Do you have a camera with a better angle?"

"No," the security officer shook her head. "This is the best we have."

"What about her?" Carlos pointed to the woman on the screen. "Do you recognize her?"

"No," the security officer replied. "But if she was doing business at the courthouse, then she would have signed in or swiped a security pass."

Kevin nodded, watching her switch screens to check the logs. He ignored the sound of a phone chiming, but Frank turned to check his. He frowned when he didn't see a message, then a sigh of relief came from Carlos. He turned to the officer, who was looking at his phone gratefully. "Is that about the Stablers?" he asked.

"Yeah," Carlos nodded. "It's an update on Eli."

Frank waited for more, but Carlos was tight-lipped. "He's OK?" he finally asked.

Carlos hesitated. "I'm . . . not sure."

Kevin finally looked up with a frown. "What happened with Eli Stabler?"

***

It didn't take Olivia long to find the building where Mia had died, and she held up her badge as a Fort Lee officer approached her. "Captain Benson, NYPD Special Victims," she introduced herself.

The officer nodded and walked with her towards the building. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, were you up at the crime scene?" Olivia asked, looking around at the group of police vehicles blockading the entrance.

"Yeah," the officer nodded.

"Was there any bruising? Cuts? Blood? Anything like that?"

"I can't disclose that," the officer said apologetically.

"OK," Olivia took a deep breath. "You know the victim's name?"

"I can't tell you that, either." Olivia huffed in annoyance, and the officer shrugged. "Come on, what would you do if a uni at one of your crime scenes talked to a captain from another jurisdiction?"

Olivia hated how right the woman was. "Look, can you at least tell me who the detective in charge is?" she asked.

***

When the pair of men were escorted out of the room, Elliot paused to knock on the window. "Eli, I'm right here," he said. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here."

"Hey, come on," one of the detectives said. "You can't talk to him."

"He can't talk to his son?" Owen raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"You know what?" Elliot scowled. "No one is to question him. Am I clear about that? No one is to question him. That's a minor. He does not waive his Miranda." He turned and knocked on the window again. "Hey, hey," he said, waiting for Eli to look at him. "Sit tight."

Owen's phone rang, and he tapped Elliot to get his attention. The two shuffled out of hearing range of the others, and Owen put his phone on speaker. "Did you find anything?" he asked.

"They found petechial hemorrhaging in the eyes," Olivia answered.

Owen blinked, thinking about what he knew about that discovery. "She was suffocated?" Elliot asked quietly.

Olivia sighed. "They think she was murdered, Elliot."

Elliot balked in horror, and Owen closed his eyes. "Oh, my God," he whispered.

***

Detective: How soon can you get to Fort Lee?

Counselor: New Jersey?

Counselor: What are you doing there?

Counselor: Does this have to do with whatever happened at the courthouse?

Detective: I really need to know Nolan

Detective: Can you get to Fort Lee?

Counselor: I can be out the door in a couple of minutes

Counselor: What's going on?

Captain: Eli should have an attorney on hand if he needs one

Captain: And Peter is working today

Detective: Please, Nolan

Counselor: I'm heading out now

Counselor: One of you call me and tell me what's going on

***

"I am way out of my league here," Carlos muttered, shaking his head in shock as he surveyed the photos in Clara Newhall's office. "This is one hell of a client roster."

Kevin chuckled in amusement as he watched the officer look around. "Welcome to the 2-7 Squad life, Carlos."

"Eli Manning," Frank scoffed at one picture. "I used to curse this guy every week. Now I'd give my left thumb to get him back."

"Oh," Kevin's eyes lit in recognition, and he picked up one frame from Clara's desk. "This woman right here? She's gotta be one of the best tennis players ever."

Frank glanced up in surprise. "I didn't figure you for the Wimbledon set."

"Why's that?" Kevin raised an eyebrow.

"'Cause you're – " Carlos glanced at Frank when the junior detective abruptly cut off. "A cop," he finished diplomatically then cleared his throat. "Isn't she the one that had that breakdown a while back and had to pull out of that big tournament?"

"Yeah," Kevin nodded, setting the frame down. "French Open."

Heels clicked on the tiles outside the room, and Clara entered her office. "Morning," she greeted.

"Morning," Kevin returned.

Clara rounded her desk, eyeing the trio of police. "What can I do for you fellas?" he asked.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions about David Keating," Kevin answered.

Clara sighed heavily. "I'm still in shock," she admitted. "We went to law school together. I ran into him just the other day at the courthouse."

"That's why we're here," Frank told her. "A man confronted him, shoved him."

"He was scary," Clara said. "Accused David of ruining his life, got physical. I started calling the police, then he left."

"Do you know this guy's name?" Carlos asked.

***

"Detective Stabler!"

Owen looked up from where he leaned against the wall, and Elliot spun from where he restlessly paced. "Yeah?" he asked, searching for who said his name.

"Detective Angel Ramirez," the man introduced himself, walking up and holding out his hand.

"Hey," Elliot nodded, reluctantly shaking his hand. "My son didn't do this."

"You understand we're gonna have to charge him?" Ramirez asked.

"With what?" Owen frowned.

Ramirez glanced at him with narrowed eyes. "Who are you?"

"Deputy Chief Owen Strand, Austin FD, Eli's uncle," Elliot said sharply. "What are you charging him with?"

"The murder of Mia Zabatino," Ramirez answered.

"No, no, no," Elliot shook his head wildly, attempting to step in Ramirez's way. "Look, let's just take a beat here."

"Unfortunately, no," Ramirez shook his head. "If your son is innocent – "

"He's innocent," Elliot said firmly.

"If he's innocent, we'll uncover that in our investigation," Ramirez continued. "But right now – "

"My son is not going to jail!" Elliot protested. "That's not happening!"

"Detective," Ramirez sighed. "I'm pretty sure if you stood where I'm standing . . . your son was on the railing of the GW Bridge thinking about killing himself. Now, I'm remanding Eli to Bergen General for a psych eval, but this is a homicide investigation now, so you're not gonna be allowed in to talk to him anymore. You understand that?"

Elliot glanced into the room where Eli was pacing, and he slowly nodded. "Yeah," he muttered. "Understood."

"Alright," Ramirez nodded and turned to enter the room.

Lucas opened the door for him, and Owen stepped to Elliot's side as they watched Eli turn with a jerk. The panic on his face as Ramirez placed handcuffs on his wrist made Elliot clench his jaw. The footsteps approaching them from behind did nothing to soothe his anger, even though he recognized the gait. "You got here quickly," he said shortly.

"I made sure to tip generously," Nolan replied, stopping on Elliot's other side and watching with critical eyes as Ramirez arrested Eli. "Olivia told me the gist. I'm so sorry this is happening, Elliot."

Elliot blew out his breath in a rush. "You're not going to question me about if my son is guilty of murder?"

"I'm on your side, Elliot," Nolan reminded him. "I didn't prosecute Wheatley for you just to turn Judas Iscariot. I'm here to make sure anything you do is within the law." He raised an eyebrow. "Or do you want me to have to prosecute my own?" Elliot couldn't help the short laugh that bubbled in his throat, and Nolan nodded approvingly. "So what's the plan?"

Elliot gave Eli a reassuring nod as Ramirez led him away, then he looked at Nolan with fire in his eyes. "We head back to New York."

***

Greg Wallace scoffed and walked through the construction site, tailed by the three policemen. "Yeah, I saw it on the news," he said. "Couldn't happen to a nicer guy."

Frank clicked his tongue in disapproval. "It's not polite to speak ill of the dead."

Wallace snorted. "Don't worry. I spoke ill of him when he was alive, too."

"I take it you didn't like his ruling on your child custody case?" Kevin said dryly.

"He's a self-righteous prick," Wallace declared. "Who the hell is he to say I can only see my son every other weekend?"

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Decision could've had something to do with your two arrests for domestic violence."

"That was between me and my ex," Wallace scowled. "It had nothing to do with my kid."

"Not sure about that," Frank shook his head. "Violence is violence."

Wallace glared at Frank, and Kevin took over. "Where were you last night around 7:00?"

"Home," Wallace answered shortly.

"All night?" Carlos pressed.

Wallace nodded. "Nuked some leftovers, had a couple of beers, watched a Rangers game."

"Can anyone verify that?" Frank asked.

"No," Wallace curled his lip. "I was alone, thanks to Judge Keating."

***

"Greg Wallace is lying his ass off," Frank announced in Kate's office after further investigation. "Video from his apartment building has him leaving at 5:23. He doesn't get back until 10:08. That's plenty of time for him to get to Keating's garage and back."

"And he's got one hell of a motive," Kate nodded.

"Lieu!" Kevin called from the bullpen. "I got something!" Frank quickly hopped up from his perch on the edge of Kate's desk and headed toward his partner, who had Carlos pulled up in a chair next to him. "Cell sites have Wallace's phone pinging a tower a few blocks from Judge Keating's garage," he reported.

"Where does Wallace live?" Kate asked.

Carlos checked his notes. "168," he answered. "In the Bronx."

Kate nodded slowly. "A long way from home," she noted. "Any reason for him to be hanging around the Upper East Side?"

"No," Frank shook his head. "Nothing obvious, anyway."

"Unless obvious is in the morgue," Carlos pointed out.

Kevin pointed at Carlos in agreement, and Kate nodded. "Alright, we gotta move on this," she told them. "1PP is breathing down my neck, and the mayor's office is calling me every two hours, so . . . "

She gestured impatiently, and Frank nodded, heading for the coat rack. "Yep."

"Understood?" Kate asked Kevin.

"There's a lot more pressure to this than there was for that missing girl case," Carlos muttered as he quickly got to his feet.

"That's the politics of New York for you," Frank quipped. "And it's why I prefer Nolan's silver tongue to do the talking."

"Welcome to the 2-7, Reyes," Kate smiled sympathetically. "You regret taking Cosgrove's offer yet?"

Frank gave his lieutenant an offended look, but Carlos just laughed. "Not at all, ma'am."

***

"Jet," Elliot rushed into the bullpen, passing Ayanna to reach the tech specialist. "Jet, I need you to find everything you can about that girl Mia Zabatino."

"Absolutely," Jet immediately nodded. "But can I ask – "

"Friends, neighbors, witnesses," Elliot continued. "You had a question?"

"The case is outside of our jurisdiction," Jet began.

"Sit tight, Jet," Ayanna ordered. "Elliot?" Elliot backed away from Jet and jogged down the steps to join Ayanna, watching Nolan join them. "Where is Eli right now?" Ayanna asked them. "Are they still holding him at Fort Lee?"

"Sarge, I need our team," Elliot begged. "I want to put this to bed before they start bouncing him around all over the place."

"You're putting Jet in a difficult position," Ayanna warned. "You know what will happen if upstairs hears about this."

"You know she's gonna get there faster than the Fort Lee PD," Elliot said. "There's not another tech who's as skilled as she is . . . and they're not exactly motivated once they have a suspect in custody."

Ayanna considered, then she looked at Nolan. "Your thoughts, Counselor?" she asked.

"He's right," Nolan admitted. "They'll try to look for a way to prove Eli did it, not the other way around." He nodded to where he had placed his briefcase on the table nearby. "I'm more than happy to spend my day here making sure no other lines are crossed. I didn't convict one man of the murder of a Stabler just to see another one get imprisoned."

Ayanna slowly nodded then turned to Jet. "Get to work," she ordered, and that was the only cue Jet needed to drop into her chair and pull her keyboard towards her.

***

Kevin's files landed on the interrogation room table with a thud, and the man himself scowled at Wallace as Frank closed the door behind Carlos. "You lied, Greg," the senior detective said angrily. "You weren't home watching hockey when Judge Keating was murdered."

"Cell phone has you on the Upper East Side," Frank told him. "You live in the Bronx."

"What, I'm not allowed to visit Manhattan?" Wallace challenged. "Is there a new rule on the books I need to know about?"

"Yeah," Frank growled. "It's called lying to the police!"

"It's not new," Kevin nodded, taking a seat across from Wallace. "It's been around forever."

Wallace shifted uncomfortably. "It's not what you think."

"Well," Carlos leaned against the wall. "We think you found out where Keating lived, learned his schedule, and went there to finish what you started on the courthouse steps."

"No, no, no," Wallace frantically shook his head. "I was with my son. If my ex finds out I violated the visitation order, she'll . . . she'll make it so I can never see him again."

Kevin checked the files in front of him. "Your ex lives in the Bronx," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but she stays with her boyfriend on 75th Street with my son."

Kevin glanced back at Frank and Carlos to find Carlos already writing the address down on the notepad he had brought in. Frank raised an eyebrow with a small smirk, and Kevin minutely nodded in return before turning back to Wallace. Frank had made a good call in extending an offer for Carlos to work this case with them. "So what did you and your son do?" he asked.

"We went to the movies, and then we got ice cream," Wallace answered immediately.

"You got receipts?" Frank asked.

"It's on my debit card," Wallace told him. "You can check the statement."

"Yeah," Frank said firmly. "We will."

"Listen!" Wallace gulped as Kevin stood to leave. "Listen . . . I admit that I wanted to beat that judge's ass, I did. After that lady left, I even followed him from the courthouse."

Carlos paused, his hand on the door handle. "You followed him?" Frank repeated.

"Yeah," Wallace nodded.

"To where?"

"Some hotel," Wallace said. "Yeah, there were lots of people there, lots of security cameras. So I took off."

***

"So what do you have on Mia Zabatino?" Elliot asked impatiently after Jet put her mug away.

"19 years old, attended Morristown Community College," Jet rattled off as she returned to her station. "She was studying to be a physical therapist. She worked weekends as a stripper at the Vestal Virgin in Fort Lee."

Nolan made a face at the name, and Ayanna bit her lip to hide a smirk at his expression. "Anything else?" she asked.

Jet hummed as she clicked her mouse. "Looks like Ms. Zabatino was listed on a website called 4 UR Pleasure," she answered. "It's an escort service."

Elliot scoffed. "Well, Eli didn't call for an escort. They met at the promenade. He told me."

"No one's saying that," Ayanna held up a hand to calm him, and Elliot huffed, dropping his head onto his forearms. "Do we know who hired her? Any regulars? Any unusual clients?"

"It'll take a minute, but I'll get there," Jet said, clicking away on her keyboard. "In the meantime, the Fort Lee apartment she brought Eli to – "

"Was it hers?" Nolan asked.

"No," Jet shook her head. "It's a BedStayCay hosted by one George Arbuckle. He owns a couple places in Fort Lee, and the reviews are iffy."

That made the three others straighten. "Iffy how?" Ayanna demanded.

Jet pulled up the reviews page. "One calls him creepy," she answered. "Another says she thinks she found a hidden camera in the bathroom. She saw a blinking light and got out of there that night." She blinked and leaned forward. "Wait, this one says the same thing . . . and she posted a picture."

"Maybe there was a camera in the Fort Lee apartment," Elliot said hopefully.

"If there was one in that bedroom," Ayanna nodded in agreement.

Jet typed on her keyboard, then sat back and examined her nails when her monitor chimed. "Jet, what are you doing?" Elliot scowled.

"I contacted security for the app," Jet answered. "It's a new startup. I suggested they might not want this kind of publicity and told them that the NYPD would be most grateful if said startup would consider sharing with us that perv's password."

Elliot groaned and palmed his face in annoyance. "Do you think they'll do it?" Ayanna asked.

"If there's any decency left in the world," Jet answered, then she grinned when her computer chimed. "And there is!"

Nolan leaned against the wall with a grin. "Remind me not to let you and Cosgrove be on the same case together."

"That could be a disaster," Elliot muttered into his hand.

Jet clicked her mouse, and she balked when she saw the amount of video feeds that appeared from bathrooms and bedrooms. "Jesus," she breathed.

Ayanna swallowed hard. "Jet . . . "

Elliot opened his mouth, but Nolan put a hand on his shoulder. "Find the apartment," he ordered.

Jet instantly began to scroll, and Elliot looked gratefully at the prosecutor. "Nolan . . . "

"If by some unfortunate circumstance higher-ups hear about this, footage will show I was the one telling her what to do, not you," Nolan said firmly, gesturing to the camera pointed towards them. "Just . . . let us handle this."

Elliot could only nod and watch Jet look through the many camera feeds. "I found the apartment," she announced. "Cameras in the shower . . . " She wrinkled her nose. "And bedroom."

"Run it," Nolan told her.

Ayanna nodded to reinforce the order, and Jet clicked her mouse. The camera feed showed a woman lying on the bed, and Jet winced. "That would be Mia. I don't see Eli . . . wait, here he is."

Elliot was grateful for Nolan's grounding grip on his shoulder as he watched Eli attempt to wake Mia. "She was already dead," Ayanna realized.

"Yes," Jet agreed.

"Rewind it," Nolan said. "Let's see when she was killed."

Jet took a deep breath and backed up the feed. "This is thirty minutes earlier," she told him.

They could see the rise and fall of Mia's chest, indicating she was still alive, when a man entered with his back to the camera. He plucked a pillow from the bed and held it over Mia's face, smothering her until she started to moan and thrash. Her moan trailed away, and she fell limp in a spreadeagle position. The man placed the pillow to the side and headed back the way he came, this time with his face to the camera. "It's Swofford," Elliot realized angrily.

"The witness is the killer!" Jet sat up straight.

"Send that video to Detective Ramirez at FLPD," Ayanna ordered.

"Copy that!" Jet nodded, her fingers blurring over the keys as Elliot and Nolan ran for the door.

***

"The judge's wife said he was preoccupied," Carlos recalled, glancing around the hotel lobby appraisingly.

Kevin sighed. "Nothing like a sidepiece to preoccupy someone. Also doubles the chance of you getting bludgeoned to death in a parking garage."

Carlos sighed. "Now you're making me want to double check how secure the fire extinguishers are at my loft once I get back to Austin."

Frank snorted loudly. "Yeah, right. Like you'd ever give TK a reason to bludgeon you with a fire extinguisher."

Carlos winced. "Trust me, we've had our downs as well as our ups." At Frank's dubious look, he sighed. "Remind me to tell you all about why TK and I weren't together during the ice storm."

"Deal," Frank agreed as they approached the front desk. "Ma'am?" The receptionist looked up from her computer, and Frank showed her the badge clipped to his coat. "We're wondering if somebody named David Keating booked a room here two days ago."

"Keating," the woman mumbled as she checked her computer. "I'm not showing a reservation under that name."

"Maybe he walked through here to get to someone else's room?" Carlos suggested.

"Going to a woman's room, perhaps," Frank nodded, flipping through his phone's photos and showing one to the woman. "This is what he looked at."

"Oh, yeah," her eyes brightened. "He's a judge, right?"

Kevin and Frank exchanged surprised looks. "Was he carrying a gavel or something?" Carlos asked incredulously. "How did you know?"

"He might as well have carried one," the receptionist laughed. "He was the keynote speaker at this event in the ballroom."

"What event was that?" Kevin asked.

"Some sort of legal conference," she answered, taking a pamphlet from next to her and passing it to him. "I did the guy a favor, offered to help set up his PowerPoint deck." She glanced around then lowered her voice. "To be honest . . . he was kind of a dick."

***

Any staff in the halls of Bergen General scrambled to the side to make room for the three walking through the halls: one police captain, one detective, and one prosecutor with their badges visible as they entered the psych ward. "I'm here to pick up Eli Stabler," Elliot announced at the desk. "I was told he's being released."

"You want the psych attending," one of the nurses told him, barely looking up from her computer. "That would be Dr. Stutz."

Elliot scowled. "No, miss . . . I want my son."

The nurse looked warily at him, and Nolan cleared his throat, glancing at her nametag. "Marisol? We would appreciate it if you could call Dr. Stutz for us, please."

Marisol glanced between them, then she slowly nodded. "Sure."

"Thank you," Nolan smiled.

Olivia swore she saw a slight blush as the woman picked up the phone and made a call. "Dr. Stutz? I have the parent of Eli Stabler." She listened for a few seconds then nodded and hung up. "He wants to speak to you before you see Eli."

"Thank you very much," Nolan nodded and stepped away.

Olivia couldn't help but chuckle as Marisol ducked her head and hurried back to her work. "Ever the charmer, aren't you, Nolan?"

Nolan shrugged as they walked into one of the waiting rooms. "I don't get paid the big bucks to be a battering ram."

"But you could be one if you needed to be," Elliot pointed out.

Nolan paused in the middle of filling a cup with water. "Is this about me sticking up for Buck or me almost killing Frank in the middle of the courthouse?"

Olivia snorted. "Remember when all we would hear from him is complaints about every little thing Cosgrove did?"

"Oh, yeah," Elliot grinned as he leaned against the doorframe. "And now Frank deems him trustworthy enough to be Lily's new best friend. What a turnaround, huh?"

Nolan pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "I regret ever drinking with the two of you."

Olivia laughed. "Come on, Nolan. We have to get our kicks somewhere."

"Oh, yeah?" Nolan raised an eyebrow challengingly. "I saw the looks around the precinct and the courthouse when they saw the two of you with Owen. Did you get your kicks there yet?"

"As I recall, DA McCoy's words were 'the Three Musketeers, together again,'" Olivia smiled cheekily.

Nolan threw his arms up in the air in exasperation. "Of course, he did."

Elliot grinned, but that grin abruptly vanished when there was a knock on the door. "Hi," a bearded man stepped inside. "Dr. Stutz. Mr. Stabler?"

"Yeah, Elliot Stabler," Elliot quickly straightened.

"And?" Stutz glanced around.

"Olivia Benson," the captain answered.

"Nolan Price," Nolan introduced himself.

"They're family friends," Elliot explained.

"Can I speak freely?" Stutz asked Elliot.

"Of course," he nodded.

"Well, thankfully, all charges have been dropped against Eli," Stutz began. "He's free to go home."

"Right," Elliot nodded. "And you need to speak to me."

"Yeah," Stutz nodded. "I do."

Elliot frowned in concern. "He OK?"

Stutz sighed and gestured for them to follow him deeper into the hospital. "I had a chance to spend some time with your son since he's been here," he said. "He mentioned that both his grandmother and his sister were bipolar."

"Eli is not bipolar," Elliot narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not suggesting that," Stutz told him. "Now, the reason I wanted to speak to you was, while Eli may not be suicidal – he may not even be an immediate risk – he is manifesting real signs of severe anxiety."

"Well, yeah," Elliot huffed. "He was charged with a murder that he didn't commit, so – "

"Elliot," Olivia interrupted.

"Stabler," Nolan said at the same time.

Elliot glanced at them in surprise, and he sighed at the twin looks he got. "OK," he took a deep breath. "So . . . severe anxiety."

Stutz nodded and continued. "When your son was on that ledge, he was devastated by the possibility that he may have been, in some way, responsible for Mia's death. But he was just as upset, perhaps more frightened and upset, by the thought of how his father . . . you . . . might react."

Elliot's eyes widened in shock. "Are you saying he's afraid of me?"

"No, no, no!" Stutz hastened to shake his head. "He's afraid for you. He told me how much you've been through, and he's just not sure how much more you can take."

Horror lingered on Elliot's face as he comprehended just how much of a burden his son had carried, and Olivia looked torn between saying something or reaching for Elliot's hand. Nolan remained silent as Stutz unlocked the door, and Elliot woodenly followed the man inside to greet Elliot. "FLPD arrested Swofford, right?" Nolan asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence as they watched Elliot hug Eli.

Olivia made herself nod. "Detective Ramirez said we could come back tomorrow and watch the interrogation." She glanced at Nolan to see him pull out his phone. "You planning to join us?"

"That's what I'm asking Jack," Nolan confirmed. "That's if I'm welcome?"

Olivia gave Eli a comforting smile when he walked out with Elliot, then she lingered to fall into step with Nolan as they followed father and son out of the hospital. "Someone tried to frame an NYPD detective's son for murder," she said, keeping her voice low so Eli wouldn't hear. "You are most certainly welcome."

***

"Greater Manhattan University of Law," Kate read the pamphlet. "Never heard of it."

Frank smiled sarcastically as he took back the pamphlet. "It's one of those unaccredited 'for-profit' places."

"Yeah, but why is a judge shilling for a scam operation like that?" Kate frowned.

"Because the school paid him ten grand."

"Really?" Kate's eyebrows rose. "He's that hard up? The guy probably makes 250 a year!"

"If he did, his financials sure didn't reflect it," Carlos said as he checked his files. "According to Financial Crimes, he was flat broke with practically no savings. And the cherry on top . . . this was after taking a second mortgage last year."

"Three credit cards, all maxed out," Kevin chimed in. "The guy was drowning in debt. His tab was close to a million dollars."

"Any idea where that money went?" Kate looked around. "Was he living a big life?"

"Doesn't look that way," Frank frowned. "His apartment was nice, but nothing special."

"So much for living a big life," Kate muttered. "But that money just doesn't disappear, so let's find out where it went."

***

"So this judge had a serious gambling problem," Dani told the trio as they gathered around her station. "Had an account on First Down."

"I'm familiar," Frank nodded.

"Well, I hope your touch was better than his," Dani said, pointing to her monitor. "This guy was down about 200K, shut him off three months ago."

Carlos whistled lowly. "Bye bye to living a big life."

"Better to put your money in a paper shredder," Kevin agreed.

Frank snickered at the quips. "Looks like he was doing a lot of betting with a bookie, too," Dani told them.

"You got a name?" Frank asked.

"No," Dani shook her head. "Lots of text messages going back and forth, though. A few of them are from a Dr. Weisman. Owed him a lot of money . . . about a hundred grand."

Frank leaned down to read over her shoulder then pointed at one of the messages. "Two days ago, he sends a text to the judge," he said. "'Need to get paid by tomorrow, or this ain't gonna end well.'"

***

Grumpy Cat: Buck

Grumpy Cat: You are so happy you aren't in Manhattan right now

Golden Retriever: I got a very enthusiastic retelling of Nolan crucifying Wheatley from the boys

Golden Retriever: I'm definitely not happy I'm not there

Grumpy Cat: No that's not what I'm referring to

Golden Retriever: Eddie's asking if this has to do with the case Cosgrove stole Carlos for

Grumpy Cat: No

Grumpy Cat: Although that might mean we're flying back without him

Cocker Spaniel: Nolan gave us the gist after he got back from New Jersey

Golden Retriever: Wait

Golden Retriever: What the hell was he doing in New Jersey?

Grumpy Cat: Like I said

Grumpy Cat: You are so happy you aren't in Manhattan right now

Golden Retriever: I want a FaceTime call

***

"How enthusiastically did Jack approve of you being here?" Elliot asked, not looking away from the one-way mirror into the interrogation room.

"He's paying me to be here, if that gives you any clue," Nolan replied with a smirk.

Olivia gave a thin smile. "We have an awesome District Attorney."

Ramirez leaned down behind Swofford. "Run it one more time for my partner, and don't leave anything out," he ordered. "He's very detail-oriented."

Detective Charbelle narrowed his eyes warningly, and Swofford seethed. "I was hired to kill the girl and make it look like the kid did it," he said. "Spike the tequila, have some pills lying around, let him get plenty wasted. Then I wait for the kid to leave, and I go in, and I suffocate the girl. Kid's the last one to leave, so everyone thinks he did it." He let out a sharp laugh. "Look, this kid, he's a lightweight! He doesn't leave, he passes out, so now I gotta go in and smother the girl while the kid's still in the apartment."

"Who hired you?" Charbelle asked.

"It was all done by texting," Swofford shrugged. "I never saw nobody's face."

"How did they find you?" Ramirez questioned.

"They said they got my name from someone over at Riker's," Swofford shrugged; next to Olivia, Elliot stiffened. "I don't know who it was. They paid me in crypto, their own proprietary coin."

"Someone at Riker's?" Elliot whispered.

***

"You were at the garage where Judge Keating was killed," Kevin told Weisman, who sat across from Frank in the interrogation room.

Frank tapped on the tablet for emphasis, where Weisman was clearly shown with a duffel bag. "That's you, no question about it."

"You also threatened him," Carlos added, clearing his throat as he read from his notes. "'Need to get paid by tomorrow, or this ain't gonna end well.'"

"That was a text," Weisman huffed.

"But you see, it didn't end well," Frank said. "In fact, it ended pretty badly. The guy got his head smashed in with a fire extinguisher. So it wasn't just a text."

"No," Weisman said. "Never got physical with the judge, ever."

Frank drummed his fingers on the table. "What is this 'Dr. Weisman' crap?" he asked.

Weisman frowned. "Excuse me?"

"The texts you send," Carlos elaborated. "You sign them Dr. Weisman."

"I went to dental school for two months and dropped out," Weisman shrugged. "The name stuck. Look, you guys are way off base here. I didn't have a beef with Keating. He paid me in full."

Frank frowned. "We've seen his bank accounts. He didn't have a pot to piss in. How does he suddenly come up with a hundred grand?"

"I don't know what to tell you," Weisman shook his head. "He said he had the money and told me to come down and meet him at the garage. Son of a bitch delivered, too. That's what's in the bag: cash."

Knocks sounded from the other side of the one-way mirror behind them, and Kevin stood from the table to walk to the door. Carlos glanced at Frank for a cue, and the detective nodded for him to follow. Carlos followed Kevin out the door and into the observation room where Kate stood waiting. "Yeah?" Kevin asked.

"Forensics came back on the fire extinguisher," Kate told them. "No discernable prints, but they recovered a hair. Didn't belong to the victim, and it doesn't match anyone in the system."

"That eliminates Weisman," Carlos said.

Kate nodded in confirmation. "I sent it to a private lab for genealogy and disease analysis."

Kevin raised an eyebrow. "Pulling out all the stops, huh?"

Carlos paused at the cool tone, and Kate sighed. "He was a judge, Kevin. Come on. You know I wish we had the resources to go the extra mile for every unsolved, but we don't."

"Funny how they always manage to find the cash when the victim's a white dude from the Upper East Side," Kevin remarked, his tone implying anything but amusement. "But when it's a poor black kid from East Flatbush, 'oh, I'm sorry, we don't have it in the budget.'"

Carlos glanced toward Kate with trepidation, getting the feeling this wasn't something he should step in about. "I hear you," she told the detective.

"Do you?" he countered.

Kate sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Look, we got a profile: brown eyes, black hair, sub-Saharan ancestry, likely a diabetic . . . and it belongs to a woman." A contemplative look formed on Kevin's face, and he nodded and departed. "I'm sorry about that, Reyes," Kate said quietly.

"I get the feeling that's a topic that's come up before?" Carlos asked.

She winced. "More nowadays than ever. I meant what I said."

"I believe you," Carlos assured her. "Doesn't mean it lessens the sting, though."

Kate conceded with a nod, and Carlos walked out to rejoin Kevin. The detective was silent as he opened the door, and Carlos headed back to stand on Frank's other side. "Got a couple more questions for you," Kevin told Weisman as he shut the door. "Did you see anyone else in that garage? A woman, maybe?"

Frank raised an eyebrow and looked expectantly at Weisman, who frowned as he thought. "Yeah, when I was leaving," he said. "She was getting out of a car on 87th Street. She was running towards me, so I held a door open for her."

"Did you notice anything unusual about this woman?" Frank asked.

"No," Weisman shook his head. "Couldn't see her face. She had sunglasses, was wearing a big, black jacket."

"Was she alone?" Carlos asked.

"Yeah," Weisman said. "She hopped out of a black SUV."

"Driver's side?"

"Passenger. It was a Range Rover, I think."

***

Guards at Riker's glanced at the two men walking through the prison before glancing away, and Elliot strode into the room where Richard Wheatley waited, his hands cuffed to the table. "Detective Stabler," Wheatley said coldly. "ADA Price."

"I know it was you," Elliot said bluntly, sitting across from Wheatley.

"Again?" Wheatley scoffed. "What did I do this time?"

"Young woman, Fort Lee. Murdered, smothered to death."

Wheatley raised an eyebrow. "That's awful, but how could it have possibly been me?" He gestured pointedly to the room. "You know exactly where I've been."

"Swofford," Elliot answered.

Wheatley snorted. "Now you've lost me."

"You hired him."

"Oh, a murder for hire," Wheatley rolled his eyes. "And I did this because?"

"To frame my son."

Wheatley stared at Elliot long and hard before shaking his head. "Despite your ADA's work to keep me here forever, I hope to get out of here, one day," he said. "And when I do, I want to start fresh. I don't want to be at war with you and your family. I don't want to be your lifelong nemesis. I don't know any Swofford."

"You don't?" Nolan raised an eyebrow. "Swofford says the cryptocurrency he was paid is the same cryptocurrency you tried to pawn off to Stabler's undercover."

Wheatley looked at Elliot, who nodded in confirmation, and he seethed. "The only person who has access to my proprietary coin is my daughter, Dana."

***

"Jesse Malloy?" Frank asked, leading the trio up to dark-haired man in the fitness center.

"Yeah, that's me," the man confirmed.

Frank glanced at his notepad. "Do you own a 2019 Range Rover, license plate 6PHE4Z?"

"Yeah," Jesse nodded. "You want me to move it?"

"Uh," Frank cleared his throat, and Kevin chuckled. "No, no, we're good. Were you driving that vehicle on Thursday night around 7:00 p.m.?"

"Thursday," Jesse muttered as he thought. "Yeah, I think so."

"You stopped on 87th Street, and a woman got out of your car," Frank told him.

Jesse's expression turned to exasperation. "Did her father send you guys?" he groaned in annoyance.

Had Carlos not been just as confused, he would have laughed at Frank and Kevin's lost expressions. "Excuse me?" Frank finally asked.

"Lucy's father," Jesse explained. "He's very . . . protective."

"Who's Lucy?" Kevin asked blankly.

"My girlfriend," Jesse said. "Lucy McDaniel."

Kevin's jaw dropped. "The tennis player?" he asked incredulously. "You dropped her off at the parking garage two nights ago?"

"Yes," Jesse said slowly, looking between the policemen. "Why?"

"Who was she going to see?" Carlos asked.

"I don't know," Jesse shrugged. "She said she was gonna run some errands. Why? What's going on?"

"Does the name Judge David Keating mean anything to you?" Kevin asked.

Jesse shook his head. "That a TV show or something?"

Frank looked ready to hit his head on the closest solid surface.

***

"So Lucy McDaniel, one of the best tennis players in the world, no history of violence, just rolls up and kills a judge?" Kate frowned, following the team back into the bullpen. "Doesn't make sense."

"She fits the DNA profile to a tee," Kevin said. "Black woman, brown eyes, black hair, definitely has the strength to swing a fire extinguisher and take a piece of a man's skull out. Plus, I read somewhere that she's a type 1 diabetic." He smiled, pleased with himself, then frowned when Kate blinked curiously at him and Frank gave her a pointed look. "What?" he asked defensively, looking at Carlos for help. "Why is everyone so surprised that I follow tennis?"

"Alright," Kate sighed, rubbing her forehead and ignoring Frank's quiet snicker. "If it is her, there has to be some connection."

"There's nothing we found," Carlos shook his head, looking at the files strewn in front of him. "We checked the judge's case files, his appointment calendar, his phone logs, his email . . . "

"But her lawyer, Clara Newhall, is friends with Judge Keating," Kevin said. "She was with him the day that Greg Wallace confronted him at the courthouse, and a day later, Keating turns up dead. Hell of a coincidence."

Kate pursed her lips. "No such thing."

"Exactly," Kevin smiled.

"Let's pay Lucy a little surprise visit," Kate decided. "And see if she'll agree to a DNA test."

***

As Carlos watched Lucy McDaniel train on the court, he could see why Kevin was impressed by her. She was quick to move and follow the ball, and she had one hell of a powerful swing.

He also quickly found out why Jesse was irritated by Lucy's father, Tom McDaniel. With just a few sentences of conversation, his opinion of the man soured, and Frank looked ready for aspirin. "Sorry, guys," Tom shrugged, not sounding apologetic as he watched Lucy. "She's in training. Can't be interrupted."

"It's important," Kevin told him.

"Not more important than training," Tom shook his head.

"Disagree," Frank said shortly and walked forward. "Hey, buddy, take five, please."

"Hey," Tom scowled and jogged to catch up as Lucy's partner left the court. "What the hell are you doing?"

Lucy left her side of the court, using a towel to wipe off her neck before dropping it in a hamper. "I'm Detective Cosgrove," Frank told her, frowning when Tom caught up and stood directly in front of him and in front of Lucy. "We'd like to ask you a few questions. Thursday evening, Jesse Malloy gave you a ride to the Upper East Side of Manhattan."

"Don't answer," Tom ordered, and Carlos looked at Kevin in bewilderment. "What's this about?"

"Are you familiar with a man by the name of David Keating?" Kevin asked. "He was a judge."

Lucy opened her mouth, but Tom spoke before her. "This conversation is over."

"We were wondering if you'd be willing to submit a DNA test," Frank continued.

"The answer is no!" Tom barked, pulling out his phone. "Look, I don't know what the hell you guys are talking about, but she sure as hell is not talking to you guys without a lawyer present!"

"Sir, with all due respect, I'm talking to your daughter, not to you," Frank said coldly. "So please shut up." Tom bristled but took a step back, glancing at Lucy. "Ma'am, would you be willing to voluntarily submit a DNA sample?" Frank asked her. "It's in your best interest so we can eliminate you as a suspect in a homicide."

"Tell him no," Tom ordered, staring at Frank and not looking at his daughter. "Tell him you're not answering any more of his questions. Tell him you want an attorney. Now."

Lucy took a deep breath. "I'm not giving you a DNA sample, and I'm not answering your questions, and I want a lawyer," she said firmly, parroting her father's words almost exactly.

Tom nodded and wrapped an arm around her. "OK. Come on, baby."

Carlos watched her leave then turned to Kevin as Frank moved away. "What the hell just happened?" he asked. "That was weird, wasn't it?"

"Very," Kevin agreed, glancing back as Frank rejoined them, hands in his pockets. "I'll call the DA's office for a swab order to get her DNA."

"Don't bother," Frank shook his head.

Carlos's eyes widened when the detective, with a latex-gloved hand, pulled out Lucy's towel from his pocket. "You took her towel?!"

"Technically, it's abandoned property," Frank shrugged.

"Well, it wasn't exactly in the trash can!" Kevin huffed.

"It was in the laundry hamper," Frank snorted. "Close enough. Besides, it's not her property. It belongs to the tennis club. And if the hair on the fire extinguisher syncs up with the sweat on this towel?"

Kevin nodded. "It's game, set, match."

***

"I'm sorry I didn't come to the verdict," Eli said quietly, cradling a mug of tea in his hands.

"It's OK," Elliot assured him, sitting on the edge of his bed. "I understand. It's been hard on you."

"On all of us," Eli corrected.

Elliot nodded in agreement. "On all of us."

"Dickie said he was convicted," Eli said. "Does that mean it's going to stop? I don't want to have to think about it anymore."

"Me, too," Elliot admitted. "And I hope so, Eli."

Eli nodded, staring down into his tea. "I know it won't bring Mom back . . . I just want to be with you and my family."

"Me, too," Elliot smiled warmly.

"You're here now, right?" Eli looked at him.

"Yeah," Elliot nodded. "I have a meeting this morning. I'll be here the rest of the day. Week, month. Alright?"

Eli smiled widely and nodded. Elliot patted his hand and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Eli to his tea. Eli watched his father leave, then he picked up his phone and checked the number he had finally texted.

Eli: Any time I need to talk, right?

TK: My ringer is always on for family.

Eli smiled and leaned back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Family . . . he really liked the sound of that.

***

"You play one hell of a game, Price."

Nolan was grateful he had turned his chair to face the window so the man in the doorway didn't see him close his eyes and brace himself. He could already feel a headache start at the back of his head, but he pasted a pleasant smile on his face and turned around, dropping his folder on his desk. "The wife of an NYPD detective was murdered, Barba," he replied, folding his hands in his lap. "In what world is that a game?" He paused to reconsider. "Well, I guess it's Wheatley's," he amended.

Rafael's jaw twitched, but Nolan silently commended the man for not reacting further. "Word in the defense field is that you joined the DA's office to avoid putting innocent men in prison," Rafael finally said. "And yet that's exactly what you did."

Nolan blinked. "You're calling Richard Wheatley an innocent man, Barba?"

"I know exactly what kind of man Richard Wheatley is," Rafael snapped. "He is many things, but we both know he didn't kill Kathy Stabler."

"The case is over, Barba," Nolan said tiredly, standing from his desk to reach his briefcase. "Richard Wheatley is in Riker's where he belongs, and that is where the story ends."

"You aren't arguing with me," Rafael noted. Nolan didn't respond, and Rafael huffed. "I plan on appealing."

"You do that," Nolan deadpanned, finding the folder he needed. "And if we find ourselves in the courtroom again – and if he keeps you as his attorney – I'll hammer however many nails into his coffin that are necessary to keep him inside it."

He felt Rafael's eyes on him as he pointedly looked through his files, waiting for the other man to speak again. "This isn't the Price I heard so much about in the defense field," Rafael finally said. "What the hell happened?"

Nolan turned around and folded his arms. "I have a hell of a lot to lose now," he answered simply.

Rafael stared at him, but before he could open his mouth, a cutthroat voice spoke behind him. "Am I interrupting something?"

Rafael's eyes sharpened, and it took all of Nolan's power to keep himself from reacting. "No, Detective," he answered, stepping back to his desk. "I was just finishing with Counselor Barba."

Rafael twisted to look behind him and found Frank standing in the hallway, the detective's pale eyes locked on him. Frank folded his arms pointedly, the action shifting his suit jacket to allow a glimpse of his sidearm, and he raised an eyebrow expectantly. Rafael held up his hands placatingly and gave Nolan a thin smile. "I know when I'm outnumbered."

"Do you?" Nolan smirked. "You were outnumbered before Wheatley even hired you."

"How unfortunate," Frank drawled.

"For him," Nolan pointed out.

Frank shrugged uncaringly. "That's his problem, isn't it?"

Rafael gritted his teeth then mockingly inclined his head to Nolan. "I hope you're happy."

"To put a man like Wheatley behind bars for the rest of his days?" Nolan's teeth flashed when he smiled like a shark. "Oh, Barba . . . I was delighted."

Rafael abruptly turned and walked past Frank to leave the office. Two pairs of eyes watched him leave, then Frank threw back his head and laughed. "I want a picture of his face," he said gleefully, shutting the door to Nolan's office. "That was priceless."

"I'm glad you enjoy my wars of words," Nolan sighed, sitting on the edge of his desk and rubbing his forehead. "I'll be nursing a headache the rest of the day."

"Do you need some aspirin?" Frank offered, tucking the folder he held under his arm. "I had to take some a while ago."

"Nah, not right now," Nolan shook his head with a fond smile. "Hopefully the problem is gone for the day." Frank smirked at what he called Rafael, and Nolan held out his hand. "Are we ready for a trial?"

"We have a killer," Frank said, passing him the folder. "Everything we have is in there."

Nolan nodded, placing the folder to the side. "Carlos was helping you out, right?"

"I asked if he wanted to pitch in," Frank admitted, gesturing to the other side of Nolan with a questioning look. Nolan shuffled to the side a little, and Frank perched on the space provided. "And now that I have an idea of what happened with the Stablers . . . "

Nolan grimaced. "Let's hope with the head of the snake now removed, the rest of them will fall in line soon." Frank nodded in agreement, and Nolan sighed. "Is Carlos able to stay in case we need him?"

"He said he'll extend his stay," Frank nodded. "So while the Strands, Casey, Severide, and the Dardens head back to Austin, Carlos and Sylvie will still be here." He smirked and nudged Nolan in the side. "You get to continue to show off for your sister."

Nolan laughed. "If you're trying to give me a con to this, Frank, you're failing miserably."

Frank snickered. "Guess Severide has to break the news to Diaz that he isn't getting his captain back for a while longer."

"And that's why the partner gets to explain and not the brother," Nolan grinned cheekily, making the detective laugh. "I'll get to work on this and let you know when we're ready to start the trial."

"Copy that," Frank nodded, reluctantly standing and heading for the door. "Though a word of warning . . . the dad is a pain in the ass."

Nolan raised an eyebrow and glanced at the case folder. "What the hell did you give me to prosecute, Frank?"

"Let's put it this way," Frank snorted as he opened the door. "Sylvie and Carlos aren't going to be bored during the trial." He smirked at Nolan's resigned sigh. "You want that aspirin now?"

Nolan silently held out his hand, and Frank pulled a pill bottle out of his suit jacket. "You kept that on you?" he asked.

"All of us needed some after dealing with this douche," Frank shrugged, tapping a few pills into Nolan's hand.

"How encouraging," Nolan sighed, popping the pills into his mouth and grabbing his water bottle to swallow them.

Frank chuckled and moved to the door. "We're still on for dinner tonight before the others leave, right?"

Nolan nodded in confirmation. "We are."

"Good," Frank smiled. "See you later."

Nolan waved in response, and Frank shut the door behind him. Nolan crossed behind his desk and sat, taking a deep breath before pulling the Keating case file towards him. "So," he flipped the folder open. "What do we have here?"

***

Damnit, I miss Frank on Law & Order. He and Nolan are so much fun to write together. I also miss Sylvie, but at least we got to see her ending. I guess y'all will have to deal with me writing the hell out of this pair, in that case.

But I'm glad I finally got to give the Organized Crime characters some time to shine! It feels empty without Whelan and Reyes, so I'm looking forward to the next book (yes, I did indeed say next book, this will at least be a trilogy) where we get the best of all the squads.

Just a few members of the universal cast to go! Enjoy Liv's character bio!

***

Olivia

Latin, "olive tree"

Sanguine

cheerful, positive, mindful

The Priest

inspirational, uplifting, motivating

Type 1, The Reformer

principled, purposeful, perfectionist

ESFJ

The Provider

Hufflepuff

hard-working, dedication, justice

Sagittarius

the adventurous, philosophical, optimistic

Earth

stable and consistent, nurturing, empathetic

The Upright World

success, achievement, accomplishment, completion, fulfilment, sense of belonging, wholeness

Archetypes

Chronic Hero Syndrome, Da Chief, Hope Springs Eternal, Mama Bear, Platonic Life-Partners, The Paragon, Rank Up, Tranquil Fury, Trauma Conga Line, To Be Lawful or Good, Well-Intentioned Extremist, You Are Better Than You Think You Are

Lawful Good

The Crusader

Status

alive

***

"Fault Lines" wraps up next time, and hey - I didn't forget about Chicago!

graphic by marvelity