Art was in a brighter mood, Gary was thinking, as they headed for their appointment with Felicia Harrison. He learned from Grace that she had been to dinner with him, but he suspected something more than dinner was at work. He sat quietly, actually holding in a chuckle at Art, humming as he wheeled through the traffic.

Felicia Harrison was visibly annoyed. After her interview at the police station, she was not socially inclined toward the two detectives. Her body language was broadcasting that fact as she led them from the door to her sitting room.

"I don't know what else you think I can tell you." She sat and leaned back, crossing her legs at the ankles - a pose suggesting defiance.

"Did you ever visit your husband at the apartment, Mrs. Harrison?"

"A few times, at the start. There were some financial affairs needed sorting out for our separation."

"Not recently?" Art asked, wandering about the room and looking at pictures.

"Uh- no, and I doubt we would have separated otherwise, Detective."

"In spite of the drinking?"

"You keep bringing that up. Is there any--"

"Was Mr. Wales present at any of these visits?" Gary held her eyes, unblinking.

"I don't- maybe at one. What has this to do with anything?"

"Your husband left a rather healthy insurance policy?"

"Is that a crime?" She bristled.

"I asked myself the same question." He stood back, arms crossed.

Near a side table by the window, Art was staring at a group of photographs, and had to have his name called twice before he paid attention. He walked back to where Felicia was sitting and stared at her, thoughtfully.

"Are you and Jonas Wales having an affair, Mrs. Harrison?"

Her shock couldn't suppress the crimson glow that painted her face, and her mouth just worked silently, a reply lost in confusion. He didn't bother with her answer. 

"We have CCTV footage of you entering the apartment the morning of the killing."

The glow disappeared. "I- that- I needed . . ."

"Thank you, we'll see ourselves out." Art left the room with Gary hurrying after him, puzzled.

"What the hell, Art?" He tugged his seat belt around as the car swung out into traffic.

"I need to make a call."

"Could I know what's going on? You haven't been you all morning."

"I'll drop you at the station." Art sped up to avoid conversation.

"I want to know what's going on." Gary braced a hand on the dashboard, watching the surrounding cars, his statement forgotten as they drew several angry horn blasts.

Art spun the wheel, and they bounced up into the station parking lot, jerking to a halt.

"For God's sake, Art, what the hell is going on? One minute humming like a lovesick loon and the next, doing your Bullet impersonation?"

"I want you to dig up all you can on Felicia Harrison – everything. I have some place to be. I'll meet you here later."

"So you aren't going to say."

"Just do as I asked, Gary."

The car reversed and sped off the lot as Gary stood and watched, his teeth clenched and brow furrowed.

                                                ❄❄❄❄❄

"Coulda done this by phone, Art." Jack Rogers sipped from his beer glass.

"No, I had to show you something." He took out his phone and thumbed up a screen, holding it out to his friend. "Look familiar?"

"That's the car you had me trace. Would have been quicker if I'd had that plate number."

"Jack, the information you gave me was gold . . ." He sat back, looking at his phone.

"What is it? Something wrong?"

"I believe this is the car that- that killed Bev and her son in the hit-and-run." He looked up, eyes wet. "I spoke to the garage you found, and they confirmed times and dates. Repairs were done and paid for in cash. I took this picture. It's from a murder case I'm working – they're connected, Jack."

The revelation was paused for a gulp of the beer. "Are you sure? That's more than a coincidence, Art."

"It's a year's praying answered, Jack. I've been trying to find who ran them down ever since it happened. This is- I can't believe it. I can't decide how to go forward."

"You have to work the current murder, Art, you know that. The other, if it's true, will fall into place."

"I can't thank you enough for finding that garage, Jack." He put the phone away and gripped his beer glass.

"I'm glad it helped." He glanced at his watch. "I've gotta scoot, I have to account for my hours." He grinned and thumped his friend's arm. "Thanks for the beer, and good luck."

"I owe you, Jack." Art held up his glass as his friend waved goodbye.

If it's true, it will fall into place. He sat there staring at his beer glass, his thoughts banging around in his head like a Pachinko machine. Jack was right, he settled finally. The murder came first. He needed evidence that Felicia and Jonas were an item. His gut said they killed Reggie for his money so that Jonas could bail out his company, and while Felicia was necessary to accomplish that, Crystal was waiting in the wings.

Time to stir the pot.

                                                       ❄❄❄❄❄

Gary waited until Art sat at his desk before tossing the file over. "Background on the wife."

The statement was terse, and Art sighed inside. Fences needed mending. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"I'm only your partner." It came out like a pout.

"It- I wasn't sure about something and I didn't want to drag you into--"

"Your personal quest." Gary interrupted. "Christ, Art, do you think I don't know what has driven you for the last year? You think I don't care or would want to help?"

Springer leaned forward and grabbed his head. It was his white whale, and he had been afraid others would think him nuts. Think less of him. Avoid him and his ghosts.

"What did you find out?"

He sat back up with a groan. "I'm afraid to say."

"What changed at Harrison's house?"

"The photographs on her side table . . . She was leaning on the driver's door of their Cadillac. Reggie was on the passenger side." He brought up the photo on his phone. "The car is the one that ran down Bev and her son."

Gary stared for a moment, then his mouth dropped open and he sat back, hands dragging down his cheeks. "Shit."

"I'm really sorry, Gary."

"Hell, don't be. If this is all true, we'll close two cases and, I'll get my old partner back. Win, win all 'round."

Somewhat relieved, Art started reading the file Gary had given him. He should have trusted his partner, Christ, they were family. "Says here they were together six years, he must have been drinking before that, to become a giant problem at his work and in their marriage."

"Read on. He'd made a couple of questionable loans that could have embarrassed the bank. Seems they were painted over by a law firm who, amazingly enough, represent Monarch Developments."

"Wales' company? The same firm that got him out of his DUIs."

"Well, where Wales is employed." Gary offered.

"I asked for background on Mrs. Harrison."

"Wait for it - Mrs. Harrison was employed at Monarch Developments before she was married. She was one of the team that fixed old Reggie's cases."

"She's a lawyer?" Art looked up.

"Corporate, not criminal, and she doesn't practice any more."

Art tossed the file on his desk and leaned back in his chair, an incredulous look crossing his face. "Let me guess, the painted over bank loan was meant to help Jonas Wales cover up his financial problems, and in exchange Harrison got representation for his DUIs."

"Lots of back scratching at play." Gary stood and said he was going for coffee, offering to bring one back for Art.

Art sat staring thoughtfully at his shoes, the bits and pieces of known facts fluttering behind his eyes like confetti. I know you are guilty, Jonas Wales. I just know it.