Page 73 of Rules of Engagement

"I really appreciate everyone turning up to celebrate but we're not done yet. You should all go home," I told him. I stuffed another forkful of lasagna into my mouth and chewed it up. It gave me something to concentrate on that wasn't a mix of fury and tears. "We should celebrate properly when Solomon is okay and whoever did this has been punished to the full extent of the law."

"If anyone asks, I don't disagree with that sentiment. Do you want me to chase everyone out?"

I leaned around him and checked out the queue of doctors. They didn't deserve to go hungry just because I wanted my family to go home. Plus, the lasagna was really good. My mom must have baked all day long. "When everyone's eaten," I decided. "Where's Dad?"

"He's setting up the coffee urns. They brought real coffee and real hot tea! He said no one should have to drink even one more cup of anything from the vending machine."

"Is he allowed to do that?"

Jord waved a hand at the food laden table. "Are they allowed to do this?"

"Good point." I finished the food on my plate and sighed. "I have to go to the restroom and wash up. Watching that jerk at MPD added at least an inch of dirt to my skin."

"I'll wait," said Jord, "Lily said she'll stay with you here tonight if you want?"

I stroked Poppy's head. "This one needs her more than I do," I said.

"Not right now she doesn't," said Jord. "Plus, we're all about the equal parenting at home, except when Lily is hogging the baby."

I skirted past the table, recited some greetings absent-mindedly and walked down the corridor to the bathroom. I used the facilities, washed my face, considered applying some makeup and realized I didn't care how pale and tired I looked. All I wanted to do now was climb onto Solomon's bed and snuggle up next to him. I leaned my back against the tiled wall and pulled out my phone, checking my messages.

Lucas had an update about the remaining suspects but I was pretty sure that was now the wrong path and he didn't require an urgent response. The PIs hadn't replied as to what to do about the cases but since they were already here at the hospital, I planned to ask them before they left. Garrett sent a message: he didn't think sending in Mikey with a wiretap to set up Mooch would work. Mikey had a serious case of the munchies and was now sleeping it off in a cell.

Tugging the restroom door open, I stepped outside, feeling a little fresher, and ready to socialize myself with more distraction. Laughter drifted along the corridor and someone made a loud comment about how delicious the food was. If this had been any other time, I would have enjoyed it; but right now all I could do was appreciate the effort everyone was making. I took a step towards them.

"Ms. Graves?" A large man in a leather jacket stepped out from behind a tall stack of linens. He folded his hands in front of him and stared down at me.

I knew a hard man when I saw one and this man was a boulder. "No," I said, trying to step around him. "Sorry."

"Lexi Graves," he tried again. "I've seen your photo so let's not do this."

"I'm armed," I said.

He shifted his elbow and pushed back his jacket, revealing a gun. "Me, too," he said.

"Donny, bring the lady inside," called another man's voice.

Donny the Boulder lifted a meaty hand and indicated that I enter the room I'd just been about to walk past.

"I'll scream," I said without making a move.

"I'm not going to hurt you, ma'am," said Donny. He drew his weapon and I opened my mouth wide enough to scream but instead of shooting me, he held the gun out. "You can hold it if you want."

"No, thank you," I stuttered.

"I cleaned it," he said, frowning.

"I don't want my fingerprints on it!"

"She makes a valid point. Ms. Graves, Donny," called the voice. This time when Donny indicated, I stepped inside. Instead of a patient room, this appeared to be a large closet. The shelves were packed with boxes of gauze, latex gloves, and other things I couldn't identify. In the middle of it all sat a tall, broad man with a shock of dark brown hair. He looked to be in his late fifties but had retained a craggy handsomeness that I was sure many women probably found very appealing. At the moment, I found it very unsettling, not least because Donny had closed the door and filled the doorway, leaving me no route of escape.

"This is rather unusual," I said.

"I'm sorry for the unique approach. I don't keep an office," said the seated man.

"Okay. Who are you and what do you want from me?" I asked.

"My name is Duncan O'Malley. I'm an old friend of Solomon's. He probably never mentioned me."

---