So, I just realized that I made a mistake last chapter with using the code 10-66 because a medical examiner seems to be the guy who examines dead bodies. Oops. That's what happens when English is not your first language. I'm sure you guys don't mind, I just wanted to clear it up.

Abigail heard with one ear how the ambulance carrying the food supplier pulled off along the street, sirens going off when they were a few feet away. She was standing in front of the salesclerk who'd assisted the injured man while she went to detain the robber, notepad in hand. The man was badly shaken, staring down at his blood-covered hands while he sat on a bench on the sidewalk, staring off into space. Abigail looked at him in sympathy and decided to give him another minute before she had to pester him for his statement. He would most likely be advised therapeutial attention at some point.

She let her eyes roam the scene carefully. Detective Dunn, who'd voluntarily decided to lead the investigation on this case, was standing not too far away talking to the customer. The man was surprisingly calm and collected for a guy who'd been held at gunpoint not twenty minutes before, but everyone was dealing with stressful situations in another way. Some became quiet, others were afraid and then there were those who got themselves distracted so as to not deal with the shock. Those were always the easiest to interview.

They had had to lock down the road two blocks away to stop the cars from peeling in and jamming the traffic and a few onlookers were standing a few feet ahead on the sidewalk, watching curiously. They had gotten two police units responding to their call by now, both of them in a team of two, thankfully. The robber had been dragged to one of the cruisers and forced into the backseat, where he'd sat, staring into space and not talking. The only words he'd said by now were his name in response to the question. One of the rookies who'd assisted on the drive-alongs was watching him carefully from outside the car.

Abigail sighed and turned back to the salesman in front of her. Time to start. "Sir," she said carefully, slipping into the soft voice she'd used on the children sometimes. "Do you think you can tell me what happened?"

He didn't answer for a second, before he looked up, surprised at finding her there. "What?" He asked. Then the words seemed to register. "I mean," he stuttered on. "Of course. I think so. I'm sorry it's just..." He trailed off.

"It's okay," Abigail soothed him. "I know it was a lot of blood, but you might just have saved your friend's life there. The paramedic was confident that he'll make it."

"He was?" He mumbled, staring back down at his bloodied hands. "I need to wash my hands..."

"Sir," she started again. "What happened in there?"

The man gritted his teeth and breathed out slowly to catch himself. "I'm not sure," he said. "I was behind the counter, about to serve my customer when I heard a crash at the other end of the shop. I asked the man to wait for a second and went along the back lane to look what had happened. Jack was the only one in the shop, I thought..." He trailed off again and shook his head sadly. "I thought he'd just dropped something, you know? But I didn't see him start picking up the boxes, instead I heard someone cry out in pain..."

Abigail nodded, looking at her notepad in concentration. That was interesting - against her first belief, the robber had not entered through the store entrance but the back door and then made his way through the shop. Otherwise the man in front of her would've noticed him enter from his position behind the counter and he didn't.

"I ran to the lane Jack was working in," the salesclerk continued. "And he was lying there, whimpering, with that huge knife in his chest. I didn't see the robber with his gun until I knelt beside him." He drew a shaky breath. "The robber didn't pay me any attention, so I got the - the knife out and - there was all that blood... I didn't care about the money, I didn't even think about the other person... I'm horrible."

Abigail shook her head. "No," she disagreed softly. "You acted correctly. You saved a man's life today. We got the guy."

"Yeah," he trailed off and stared at her, not really looking, once again.

Abigail made a note about the robber not minding someone to help his victim and looked up again. "Thank you for your help," she told him. "Just give us your contacts and you should be free to go. Do you need us to call someone who can pick you up?" She left the You're in no condition to drive hanging in the air.

The other man shook his head. "No, I live just a few blocks down the street," he said. "1223 San Andres Street. My name's Willis Tobin." Abigail wrote the information down on her notepad and added the phone number he dictated to her. After that she watched him leave, not sure how Dunn would react to her letting go of him so quickly. He did give her order to interview him, though, so he shouldn't have been interested in interviewing him himself, right?

"Lytar." Speak of the devil. She turned around and was relieved to find the kind version of the detective in front of her, not the focused, no-nonsense one who'd snapped at her earlier. That man was capable of moodswings more sudden than a woman on her period. "Are you finished?" He asked.

"Yes," she nodded. "His name is Willis Tobin. He told me he was about to serve the customer," she nodded over to the other man, who was standing by another officer, apperantly giving him his contact information. "When he heard a crash and went to investigate. He heard the victim cry out and went there to help. That's when I found him."

Dunn nodded. "That seems to match up Carson's story." He turned around and motioned for her to follow him. "Show me how you saw everything," he commanded. "You came in through the back, right?"

Abigail put her notepad and pen away in her utility belt and quickly caught up with the detective, who'd already stepped into the store. "Yes, sir," she said. "I noticed the boxes and went to investigate, too. I found Tobin kneeling over the victim and ordered him to apply pressure to the wound before I went back around to help you with the hostage situation."

Dunn stood over the small puddle of blood in the first lane, his trained, critical eye sweeping over the scene carefully. "Alright," he murmured. "So our robber comes in through the back, according to Carson, and sees the victim with his supplies. He has a witness, so he tries to silence him. Victim runs away, crashing the boxes in the process, until robber catches up with him here." He turns around to look in the direction of the door. "Then Mr. Robber makes his way to the counter, where Carson is in the way. Slam and dunk."

Abigail didn't agree - or at least her gut didn't. Something didn't feel right, but she couldn't quite pinpoint it. Her discomfort must've shown on her face, because Dunn raised an eyebrow at her. "What do you think?" He asked, curiousity slipping into his face.

"I think that you're the detective," she dodged his question. She wasn't a detective, not by far, and those higher-ups were proud of that. She wasn't interested in having Dunn explode in her face again.

Dunn surprised her by giving her a small smile. "Yes, I am," he agreed. "But I'm asking for your opinion. You do have one, right?"

Abigail hesitated only for a second. "It doesn't feel right," she admitted.

The detective watched her attentively, thinking about her words. "Well, what doesn't?" He asked.

Abigail shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"So you want me to close the case?" He challenged.

She stayed silent, mind racing to find the source of her discomfort. A few minutes ago, she'd entered this store through the back, a bad feeling already in her gut. She'd cleared a few lanes before finding Tobin and his friend Jack in the last one, blood sprouting from the wound in Jack's chest. That's when her bad feeling had intensified and it had payed off. Just a few seconds later, Dunn had busted the store and the dangerous hostage crisis began. But what had made her feel so uncomfortable? In retrospect, it couldn't have just been anticipation.

"The knife," she realized suddenly. "Why did he use a knife? He had a gun." Dunn didn't look stunned or surprised or speechless, he just stood there with his arms crossed, smiling. Abigail frowned. "What?"

"Not bad," Dunn admitted slowly. "You have a good eye. But there's an easy explanation for this - I've seen it before. A lot of one man robberies involve many weapons," the older man explained. "Without a team, someone could get overpowered quickly, even with a gun. He had a gun, but he hadn't cleared the store yet - anyone could've snuck up behind him. That's why he used a knife. It was simply not as loud as a gun."

Abigail mulled over his words. He was right. She was probably just over-reacting. Gut feelings could be wrong. "Alright," she finally relented. "Then I agree with your explanation."

"Good," he nodded. "I've called the station and they're going to send a replacement for you on patrol."

She frowned in confusion. "Why?"

Dunn looked amused. "You need to write your statement."

"I could've done that on patrol," Abigail pointed out.

He tilted his head, clearly enjoying the banter. She wondered for a moment if she was just playing into his hands by resisting. "I need you to wrap things up. You've been on the scene, just like me."

She hesitated, before barging on. "I don't think that's the reason, sir."

"No?" He asked. "Then what is it?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

Dunn laughed. "Well, let's just say I can't have you leaving here, thinking of me as stupid for barging in a robbery."

Abigail blushed, flustered, when she realized what he was playing at. "I don't think you're stupid, sir! I didn't know-"

He nodded and motioned for her to follow him to their car that was still parked around the corner, inconveniently slightly in the street. She felt horrible. Of course he wouldn't let that go this easily - she'd called the man who'd been head detective for quite some time stupid! She was going to be in for a ride of chewing out. She should've known better - if anyone who didn't know the first thing about her job would've called her stupid when doing her job, she would've been just as offended as Detective Dunn had been.

She watched nervously how Dunn walked over to the driver's door and held open his hand for the keys. Why in the world did he want to drive?

Abigail turned over the keys. They sat down and the detective started the car, raising his eyebrows in mock interest. "Haven't driven one of these for quite some time," he told her. She didn't answer. "Calm down," Dunn continued. "I'm not going to punish you for doing your job. Actually, I've decided on something else, entirely."

Abigail perked up at his words, confusion written clear on her face. "And what's that?"

Dunn smirked. "I'm going to show you how detectives work." The older man turned the keys in the ignition, before he reached over and put a folder in her lap. Abigail immediately recognized it as the file he'd read earlier. "I've taken an interest in you, Lytar," he started bluntly. She blinked. "And I think it would do you some good to see how detectives work, don't you think?"

She hesitated, about to reassure the man once again that she fully trusted his abilities when she saw him look at her, a slight twinkle in his eyes. I've taken an interest in you, Lytar. This could be her chance to at least get in a perimeter of a few feet with Head Detective Lassiter and maybe leave an impression. She just had to take it. She wasn't sure why Dunn was doing what he did and frankly, maybe she had to roll with it and take the opportunity. "Okay," she agreed.

Dunn nodded and started to pull the car back onto the street. "Alright," he said. "I take it you've heard about the McCallum kidnapping?"

"Yes, sir," Abigail confirmed. Six days ago, Camden McCallum, the son of Hal McCallum from McCallum textiles, had gone out to walk his dog in the dog-dominated part of Elings Park in Bel Air. The last time he'd been seen he'd entered his range rover with another person, apperantly not really voluntarily. Two days later, when still no ransom demand had come in, the family had decided to contact the police who've been investigating since. No ransom demand had come in yet, from what she knew, and it was probably driving the family crazy.

"Now, don't get in over your head," Dunn warned. "You are to assist the detectives in this, not to investigate anything. You are not a detective." Abigail nodded, still flashed by the sudden opportunity that had opened up for her. "You know the drill. You most likely will have to run errands, sometimes between the station and McCallum's place. If you do a good job, Lassiter may keep you in his mind the next time a spot on the detective team opens up."

"Yes, sir."

"You understand that you're only there on my recommendation and therefore it's my ass on the line?"

"Of course," she confirmed. She understood that quite perfectly. What she had trouble understanding was the why of all this. Officers of any kind weren't just good samaritans. They had to work for recognition, and she knew that, which made Dunn's behavior even more confusing. It went against everything she'd learned in the last two years she'd been involved with the police. Abigail was itching to find out the detective's reasoning, but she doubted he'd tell her anything since he didn't do it before either.

Maybe she just had to put it behind her and concentrate on the opportunity presented to her, instead of doubting it. She'd have enough time to do that later.

"You will stay in the car first," Dunn ordered her. "You need to write your statement on the robbery incident and I doubt Lassiter will be happy if any other cases get mixed up with the McCallum kidnapping. They are receiving enough pressure on this as it is." Abigail raised her eyebrows at that, curious what this was supposed to mean. He motioned to the file in her lap. "You better look at this before we're there. You need to be at least somewhat informed, if you want to keep up with the investigation."

I'm pretty sure next chapter we're going to meet Shawn and Gus! Yay!

I know what happened here seems highly unlikely, but I promise that Dunn's reasoning will be explained at some point. Just not very soon. ;)