Little was said about it; that simply wasn’t the way with experienced police officers. So in order to keep their minds occupied, each one made a dish. Nick made loaded stuffed potato skins as an appetizer. Cally made a simple gâteau de viande – the French version of meatloaf. Maia made pan-fried potatoes drizzled with truffle oil, and Lee made a Catalonia-style corn salad featuring just a smidge of his homemade chili powder seasoning, to give it a kick without risking digestive upset on stressed bodies. For dessert, they had basic, store-bought vanilla ice cream… topped with a jar of Cally’s father’s homemade peach preserves. When they finally sat down to the table, however, all four abruptly paused and bowed their heads. Still, nothing was said...but each knew that a joint petition had just been sent up on behalf of Alan Compton.
“Damn,” Nick murmured, as he raised his head. The others muttered agreement.
“I feel responsible,” Maia added, subdued.
“Me too,” Lee agreed.
“Make it three,” Cally said.
“Four,” Nick noted.
They all sat in silence then, staring at the food on their plates. Finally Maia spoke.
“Well, guys, there’s no sense sitting here letting the lovely food get cold and spoil. Alan sure wouldn’t want that.”
“No, that’s true,” Cally agreed. “He always loved it when I brought in some new cooking experiment to the precinct to share.”
At that, Lee raised his glass of wine. The others followed suit.
“To Alan,” he declared. “With all our love and gratitude. Now and always.”
“To Alan,” the others echoed, and they drank.
After that, they relaxed a little. The dinner, delicious despite – or perhaps because of – its simplicity, was savored by all, and soon there was very little left. Nick moved to the wet bar in the den and poured the preferred libations for each person, then handed them around, as the other three filtered into the den after clearing the table and putting the dishes in the washer.
“Ahh, that’s a little better,” Maia said, easing into a corner of the couch and sipping her whiskey.
“Yeah, it is. But I think I’m really glad for the latest driverless option in our car, hon,” Lee decided, as he settled in beside her and sipped his own cognac. “I could use a few stiff ones tonight.”
“No shit,” Nick agreed, over his own whiskey. “This has been one hell of a day.”
“It sure hasn’t made me like the conspirators any more,” Cally noted over a glass of dessert wine; the statement was practically a snarl.
“I gotta say I agree with Cally, there,” Maia growled. “I do hope you two plan some serious retribution over this.”
“Trust me, guys,” Lee said. “I’m all over that one.”
“What?” Cally wondered.
“Can’t say yet. Still working on it. Trust me.”
“Good, and we do,” Maia said emphatically. “Now, how are we gonna ensure this doesn’t happen again?”
“I think we probably need to dig a lot deeper on the background checks,” Nick said. “I can’t say for the rest of the Headquarters staff, but I’ve hesitated to load The Team down with too much of that.”
“Don’t,” Maia scolded. “Just because we’re not in the same section doesn’t mean we’re not in the same business. Our section ultimately reports to Lee anyway, through the Imp City section… which representative, I’ve gathered, looks like being my boss, General Quan. Let us help.”
“But aren’t you handling pretty much all of the crime in Imp City while we get built back up?” Nick wondered.
“To a point, but the best way to help us is to get staffed up with legit, honest cops,” Maia pointed out. “I, for one, do not want to end up back in the same shape we were in when you came to us, Nick.”
“She’s right, son,” Lee said. “They want to help enough to risk life and limb for us – and already have, as they demonstrated today, in spades. Let ‘em. And since you’re head of the Investigations division, it lands in your lap to do the background checks for everybody, anyway. Get your own guys checked out good, and they can help you – and them.”
“And you’re sure you trust Peabody?” Maia pressed.
“I do now,” Nick vouched for the other man. “So far I think I’ve got a pretty decent team of investigators forming, but there’s just not enough of us to do all that. Not to start from scratch with the entire staff.”
“Send it to us,” Cally pressed.
“Okay, okay, guys, I get the message,” Nick said with a sigh. “I’ll do that tomorrow. I’ll be nice, though, and try to break it up into batches. Maybe according to the division or something.”
“That’ll work,” Maia decreed.
“Something else I’m thinking about…” Lee said, letting his voice trail off.
“What?”
“Your idea about the lie detector seat, Nick.”
“Oh, that,” Nick said, then pointed out, “Well, we’re gonna need one for the conspirators, for sure.”
“Yup. But you might be right about the swearing in, at least where the various ‘oldies’ are concerned. I hate to do it, ‘cause it makes it seem like we don’t trust ‘em…”
“We don’t,” Cally interjected, blunt.
“Well, we may have to work on wording and shit,” Lee said. “I have to be diplomatic, at least to a point. But I already have one requisitioned, and Mr. Perrin, His Majesty’s Personal Secretary, has already informed me that Emperor Trajan is delighted, and has not only personally approved the requisition, he’s requested that it be expedited. He is… not pleased with the situation.”
“That’s… good,” Maia decided. Then she shook her head and grinned wryly.
“What?”
“My husband – who, let me note, I recommended for the job – reports directly to the Emperor, and regularly communicates with him and his staff,” she said, offering him a lopsided grin. “I’m still getting used to that, I guess.
