Cops did that, especially on people of interest in ongoing investigations. It wasn’t quite kosher that she’d done it for personal reasons but nobody was going to get too upset about that. Privilege of the job in a job where there weren’t that many privileges. “What showed up?”

“He got arrested last night. Narcotics. Unlicensed firearms and other explosives.” She looked up. “Felony charges. He’s has a previous record.”

“So he’s pond scum. It’s not his sperm making the baby.”

“I have to tell Gabe.”

“Info probably isn’t in the public record yet,” A.L. said gently. Until then, she had a responsibility to only share it on a need-to-know basis.

“I don’t care. Listen, I need a half hour.”

“Go.”

“I knew something like this was going to happen. I just knew it.” She laughed shakily. “Maybe I’m the psychic.” She got four steps. Turned. “We need to verify Kara’s story, that she was working as a cochair with Steven Hanzel.”

“We will. Now shut it off. Go talk to Gabe.”

Ten minutes later, she wasn’t sure if she was grateful or not that Gabe’s car was in the driveway. It might have been good to have a little more time to compose herself, to think of the best way to offer up the information.

To come up with a plan, a solution.

But then again, it couldn’t be her plan. It had to be their plan. Just like it was their baby.

She opened the door and was surprised to see him sitting at the kitchen table. Dressed. In dark jeans and a button-down shirt. His hair, which hadn’t been cut for months, was pushed behind his ears. Another month or two and it would touch his shoulders. It was too long but he looked good. Always had. Probably always would.

“What’s going on?” she asked. She’d talked to him two hours ago, told him that she’d be working late. He’d said not to worry about it, that he was on his way to bed.

“Just getting ready to go out with some friends,” he said. “It just came up. I was going to text you.”

Right. “Who?”

“Tom and Rick. You don’t know them.”

“From school.”

“Yeah. Did you get done early?”

“Something came up.” She pulled out a chair. “I needed to talk to you.”

He stared at her. “Are you okay? Did something happen at work? Is it A.L.?”

She held up a hand. “It’s Matthew Stahl.”

“Shannon’s husband.”

“He’s been arrested,” she said.

“You arrested him?” Gabe asked.

“No. Another officer. But it’s serious. Charges are getting filed. Drugs. Guns and other explosives. He already has a felony record. If he’s convicted, he’s going to prison.”

“Did Shannon call you?” Gabe asked. “Did she want your help?”