Karen Rose - Count to Ten

Mia made it to the door, then paused, her hand on the doorknob. "Thanks, Marc."

He just grunted. "Get out of those monkey shoes, Mitchell."

Mia got back to the bullpen and stopped. Dana stood next to her desk, a small cardboard box clutched in her hand. "What's up?" she asked, dropping to her chair.

Dana lifted her brows. "I've come to report a homicide." She set the box on Mia's desk and pulled out a crab, its claws wrapped with rubber bands. It wasn't moving.

Mia wrinkled her nose. "Jeez, Dana, what the hell is that?"

"It was a Maryland crab. I caught it with my own hands. It was alive and would have been alive if you'd come last night. Now it's dead and you're to blame. I want justice."

"I can't believe people eat those. They look like giant bugs from a bad fifties flick."

Dana dropped the dead crab back in the box. "They're pretty tasty, which you would have found out if we could have cooked this one for you. I heard there was a press conference, so I figured you'd be here. I've been worried. How's your shoulder?"

"Good as new."

"And now you've got a new owie. What did you do to yourself now?"

"Dodged a bullet," she said carelessly and Dana's eyes narrowed.

"This new case?"

"No."

"You'll tell me later. For now, I need to know what's happening on this arson case."

"You know I can't tell you specifics, Dana."

Pain flashed in Dana's brown eyes. "I knew Penny Hill." And she was mourning her, Mia could see. "She was a good person. You'll catch who did this?"

"Yes." Now if they had a lead or two, she'd feel better about that promise.

"Good." Dana tilted her head. "And everything else? How's all that?"

"I had to tell Spinnelli. She was at the press conference."

Dana blinked in surprise. "Damn."

"She got away again, but I got half her license plate this time."

"You want Ethan to track her down?"

Dana's husband was a PI with a way around computers. "Not yet. I'll try first." Mia's gaze swerved to the edge of the bullpen, where Solliday had entered, a small television under one arm and a VCR under the other. He'd covered for her when he didn't have to. Dana twisted around to see what she was looking at and whistled softly.

She looked back, her appreciation evident. "So who is he?"

"Who?" But it was a bad plan to play dumb. "Oh. Him."

"Yeah, him." Dana's lips twitched. "Want me to run a background check on him?"

Mia felt her cheeks heat, knowing exactly what Dana meant. She'd run Ethan through the system herself when Dana got all floppy eyed over him and they'd been married just a few months later. It didn't take a detective to connect the dots. "Not necessary. That's my new partner."

Dana's eyes now flashed amusement. "You were a little sparse on the details, girl." She stood up as Solliday put the video equipment on Abe's desk. "Hello, there. I'm Dana Buchanan, Mia's friend. And you are?"

Solliday shook the hand Dana extended. "Reed Solliday, her temporary partner." His mouth curved, his eyes warming. "You're the foster mother."

Dana's smile broadened. "I am. Right now I have five, but I'll get another soon."

"I was a foster kid. My parents were active in the system for years. Good for you."

Dana still held his hand, studying his face in a way that made Mia's cheeks hotter. "Thank you." She let go of his hand and turned back to Mia. "Call me later, or I'll come find you. That's a promise." She gave a backward wave as she walked away.

Mia grabbed Wright's video. "Thanks for getting the TV."

"No problem." Watching her friend from the corner of his eye, Reed tossed Mia the cord. "Plug it in and I'll set it up." When the redhead got to the edge of the bullpen, she stopped and looked back. Her brows lifted in silent challenge, then she disappeared into the hall. There had been a comforting quality to her voice and in the way she'd held his hand, as if they'd been old friends. "She forgot her box," he said.

Mia glanced up and laughed. "She would. It's got a dead crab in it."

"Your friend brought you a dead crab?'"

"It was supposed to be a culinary delight." She ducked under her desk to plug the cord in, then stood, briskly tugging at her dress uniform. "Let's look at Mr. Wright's opus."

Reed popped in the video. "This is the footage of the fire we saw last night." In silence they watched the fire scene, watched themselves. Reed swallowed the wince when the camera caught him fumbling with his boots and Mia taking over the task.

"I'm sorry about that," she murmured and he remembered the look in her eyes when he'd rebuked her. Remote, as if she'd pulled back from a slap. But you're stuck with me . The words were telling in light of what she'd just divulged. What a shock it must have been to find her father had a second family. He searched for something to say.

"Mia, about what happened in Spinnelli's office…"

Her eyes never left the small screen, her jaw going taut. "Thanks for trying to cover for me. You won't have to do it again."

"I didn't mean that. That woman. Your…" He faltered. "It must have been a shock."

Her eyes narrowed at the video as a young woman with a braid came into the picture, briefly. "There's Carmichael, skulking around."

She'd shut the door on the subject. "She kept to the background," he said.

"I should have seen her."

"Maybe. You'll be looking for her next time."

She shot him a guarded glance. "Carmichael, yes."

He held her eyes for a moment before she looked away, back to the screen where the scene had changed. Wheaton stood at the curb, fluffing out her hair and checking her makeup. "Jared's brother Duane was standing pretty far back," he said.

"It's going to make it hard to get anything unless he ventures closer."

"It's still quarter to six according to the time stamp. The woman's not here yet." He pulled Mitchell's chair around their desks. "Sit down. This could take a while." The picture focused on Wheaton, before finally zooming out. Reed sat up straight, suddenly alert. "She's there." The blue Hyundai was parked off to the side and the woman was standing at her car door, staring up at the house, just as she had on Action News's video.

Mitchell had leaned forward, squinting. "Can we get a make on the plate?"

"Maybe your computer enhancement guys can," Reed said doubtfully. "Duane's still too far away for me to see anything and the angle's bad."

Then as if heeding their wish, the camera crept a little closer, taking a trip along the outer boundary of cars and onlookers. Reed held his breath. "Just a little farther."

"Holly's on," Mitchell said. "Her people are paying attention to her. Duane's getting a little braver. Come on, boy. Move your ass closer." Duane did, the video inching closer to the car. Finally it stopped, the plate still too small to read, but in full view.

"Closer, boy," she murmured, but the camera hovered in place for a few seconds, then abruptly moved back to Wheaton's camera crew who were dismantling equipment. Then there was static as the video stopped.

"I think that's the best we're going to get," Reed said. "Let's take this to the computer guys. Maybe we'll get lucky."

Mitchell pushed her chair back. "The computer guys are on the fifth floor. You take them the video. I'll change and meet you. Don't have any fun until I get there."

He watched as she jogged from the bullpen. She'd closed herself off, just as she had when he'd touched her face. He should let it go. But he wasn't sure he could.

Wednesday, November 29, 1:05 p.m.

Mia stared out the window of the SUV as Solliday slowly drove past the teacher's parking lot. "There it is. One blue Hyundai, registered to Brooke Adler, English teacher."

"Your computer guys did a good job blowing up that video frame."