Finally, Dutch spoke up. "I just wanted to let you know...Claudette is making us stay over tonight..." he started with more than a trace of uncertainty in his voice.

Danny stared at him. "You've got to be kidding me! One former member of our strike team just blew his brains out after...after...killing his family, and we have to stay and do paperwork? Tell Tina she can stay and do that. I can't..."

Dutch touched her arm. "it's not like that. She's called in some grief counselors. We'll be paid overtime, of course...but she wants us all to see them."

Danny wiped her face, trying to shield Dutch from the exhaustion that was more than apparent on it. "I can't...I can't talk about this...not now..."

"If not now, then when?"

She looked up at him, but neither one could speak.

Finally, Dutch spoke up. "Julien, he's talking of quitting. Acevada is coming in, but I don't...I'll just go ahead and say it, I don't care if I ever see him again. I think he may have known more than what he lets on..."

Danny looked at him curiously.

"I spoke to him a couple of times...about the money train thing. I know people are wanting us to believe that Lem did it alone, but you know what I found in his car?"

Danny looked down, but nodded anyways.

"I found a bottle of Pepto-Bismol, and a prescription for Prilosac. You know, the purple pill. You know what that means, don't you..."

Their eyes met, and Danny offered her opinion. "He had stomach problems, an ulcer or something."

Dutch half-smiled. "I always knew you'd make a great detective."

"Save it. I'm not Tina."

Hurt, he asked her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. I'm just tired. Anyways, Lem had stomach problems...what's that tell you?"

"That the guy felt guilty, that he wasn't able to stomach, pardon the pun, the kind of shit that Vic and Shane and Ronnie had drug him into. I know he was the fall guy in all this, but something tells me, out of them all...Lem was the one least deserving of what happened to him."

Danny stared at him. "Can you prove any of this?"

"I don't know. I may talk to Claudette, but I just...I just need to clear my head first."

"You don't want to run it by Billings, first?" Danny half-smiled, and even Dutch had to do the same. Sometimes, no matter what the situation was, how bad it was, a little humor went a long way.

"Come on, Danny. Let's go see these counselors...wait, your son...do you have to get home?" Dutch asked, very concerned.

"I called my mom. She's keeping him for a few days. She doesn't know everything...but she will..." Danny sighed.

"If I can do anything, if I can help at all...pick up diapers, babysit while you take a nap...anything, you just call, okay?" Dutch offered.

There was so much she wanted to ask Dutch, wanted to talk about, but for the moment, she just nodded. "I can see why you're Claudette's favorite," Danny teased.

He grinned, then he helped her up, where they were both about to relive the darkest day of their professional career.