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Hawk and Gwen didn't head straight to the apartment after leaving the hospital.
They went home first, then drove the Audi A8 parked in the garage over to the Stacy apartment.
By now, Gwen had recovered her composure.
Sitting in the passenger seat, she patted her chest. "Thank God. Dad's okay. I was terrified."
Hawk, driving, glanced at her sideways.
"Want him to die once anyway?"
"What?"
Gwen's eyes went wide, as if she'd misheard.
Hawk smiled. "Phoenix rebirth means a full recovery. Not like now—George is going to be stuck in that hospital bed for at least two weeks."
Everyone knew the score.
Every time a phoenix underwent rebirth, its power increased dramatically.
Same principle applied here.
If George died and then was reborn through the Phoenix, he'd come back at full health.
Not like his current state, where he'd be bedridden for days.
Gwen listened to Hawk's explanation, opened her mouth, then caught on and rolled her eyes at him.
"Hawk."
"Yeah?"
"I'm not talking to you anymore. You're terrible."
"My bad." Hawk's apology came lightning-fast.
...
Soon enough.
They arrived at the Stacy apartment building.
A patrol car was parked outside, two officers sitting inside.
"Twenty-first Precinct."
"Yeah. Probably worried the shooter might come to the house."
After all, the gunman who'd shot George was still at large, and they still didn't know the motive. As a precaution, having officers stationed outside the family home was standard procedure.
Hawk's Audi A8 was registered in the police system, though, and Gwen was well-known to the Twenty-first Precinct officers. So when Hawk and Gwen stepped out of the car, the two patrol officers stayed in their vehicle.
Hawk and Gwen didn't make a point of greeting them either.
...
Inside the penthouse apartment.
Howard and Simon, normally rambunctious, were sitting obediently on the couch watching TV. No roughhousing like usual.
Even the takeout containers from earlier had been cleaned up and neatly stacked on the dining table.
Twelve-year-old Howard and eleven-year-old Simon understood what had happened.
Dad had been shot and was in the hospital.
Mom was at the hospital with Dad, and the only thing they could do was stay home quietly and not cause trouble.
When Hawk and Gwen walked through the door, both boys—who had been sitting on the couch, distracted and anxious—immediately perked up and jumped to their feet.
"Sis!"
"Brother-in-law! How's Dad?"
"Relax. He's fine."
Hawk looked down at Simon, who was staring up at him, and smiled as he ruffled the kid's hair.
Howard quickly turned to his sister Gwen.
Gwen nodded.
"Dad's okay."
"Phew!" Howard let out a breath of relief, then looked at Gwen again. "Can Simon and I go see Dad at the hospital? We promise we won't run around or touch anything or talk too much."
Gwen laughed. "After dinner. We'll take food to Mom, and you two can come with us. Then we'll come back."
Howard and Simon grinned, finally believing that their dad was really okay.
They were young, not stupid. Their academic talents might not match their sister Gwen's, but they were still a police captain's sons. They had basic judgment.
Soon, The two boys, now fully reassured, settled back onto the couch, occasionally glancing at the wall clock, eager for evening to arrive.
Hawk and Gwen headed to George's study, planning to look for any useful leads.
But...
"Huh?"
"It's locked?"
Gwen did what she always did—grabbed the door handle and pushed down—but this time, she froze. The door didn't budge. She blinked, then turned to Hawk. "Dad locked the door."
Hawk raised an eyebrow.
"Is that weird?"
"Of course it is. Dad never locks his study."
Even though George often worked late in his study after coming home, he'd never once locked the door.
Because even Howard and Simon knew they weren't allowed in the study without George's permission.
So George had never needed to lock it.
Hearing Gwen's explanation, Hawk's mind stirred. He vanished from in front of Gwen.
The next second, The study door opened from the inside.
Gwen walked in, flipped on the light, and looked around. "No photos on the walls either. Why would Dad lock the door?"
Hawk also scanned the room.
The study's layout was simple.
Desk. Computer. Bookshelf. That was it.
Gwen walked straight to George's computer and powered it on.
Hawk's gaze, meanwhile, fell on a piece of paper on the desk.
There was a timestamp at the top—9:30 AM, today—followed by two letters: BU.
George had underlined those letters twice.
Which meant it was probably important information.
After borrowing Gwen's phone, Hawk glanced at her. She'd already opened the computer and was typing in the password with practiced ease. He raised an eyebrow. "You know George's computer password?"
Gwen shrugged. "Of course. I even know his ATM PIN. My birthday."
Right.
Doting father. Made sense.
Hawk pulled up his contacts and called Detective Mahoney.
Mahoney, who had just met up with Detective Hale and was currently reviewing security footage from a shop near the parking garage entrance, frowned.
"BU?"
"Yeah. It's probably the initials of the informant George was meeting. Or something like that."
Hawk exchanged information with Mahoney, then looked at the timestamp on the paper. "By the way, what time did the Twenty-first Precinct report the shooting?"
"9:35 AM. Dispatch received the shots-fired call."
"Then that's it." Hawk's eyes lit up. "Whatever George was doing there, it's definitely connected to BU."
Mahoney frowned. "BU... I can't think of who that might be off the top of my head. Did George leave anything else?"
Hawk said, "Hold on," and looked at Gwen.
Gwen shook her head.
She'd just finished searching the computer. There were plenty of files, but they were all routine precinct documents—budget reports, monthly crime statistics submitted to headquarters, major incident reports, meeting minutes.
Hawk understood. "Nothing here. What about on your end?"
Mahoney replied, "The third floor of the parking garage doesn't have cameras. Hale and I found a store that might've captured the shooter on camera. We're pulling the footage now."
Just then—
Hale's voice came from behind him.
Mahoney turned, then said into the phone, "Hale might've found something. Gotta go."
Hawk acknowledged.
"Alright."
After hanging up, Hawk handed Gwen's phone back to her, then looked around the study again.
This time, though, he wasn't using his five senses.
He was using his Sixth Sense.
George had never locked his study before. This time, he had. That meant one thing.
There was a secret in this room—something George didn't want anyone to find.
Not even his family.
Though it probably wasn't about keeping secrets from them. It was about protecting them.
Sure enough, Hawk's gaze locked onto the bookshelf against the wall. He raised an eyebrow, then smiled.
The next second—
Under Gwen's watchful eyes, he walked to the bookshelf, opened it, scanned the third shelf, found a copy of the Constitution, and pulled it forward.
Click-click-click.
A mechanical sound came from the base of the bookshelf. The shelf, which had been flush against the wall, began sliding to the side.
Gwen, sitting in the chair, stared with her mouth slightly open. She walked over to Hawk's side, watching the bookshelf move, and sucked in a sharp breath. "I had no idea this thing could move."
Hawk didn't respond. He looked at what the moving bookshelf had revealed—a safe.
He glanced at Gwen.
"This wouldn't also use your birthday as the password, would it?"
"Let's find out."
Gwen snapped out of her shock, stepped up to the safe, and began turning the old-fashioned combination dial, entering her birthday.
Click.
The safe opened.
Once again, Doting father...
The contents of the safe weren't much.
A few pieces of Stacy family heirloom jewelry. A loaded Glock 17. A full magazine beside it.
And beneath the magazine, a case file.
Gwen expertly checked the gun, muttered, "Hasn't been fired recently," then stood beside Hawk as he opened the file.
The first thing they saw, A photo of a charred corpse.
Hawk's expression remained neutral.
Gwen, on the other hand, paused for a moment. She didn't react much, but she frowned slightly.
"This body... I feel like I've seen it somewhere."
"New York Times. Ottos. The reporter."
Hawk answered her question.
Gwen remembered. "The reporter who was found tied to a cross and burned to death on the Hudson River bank before Christmas last year?"
Hawk nodded.
That case was the reason George and Helen hadn't been able to go back to Forks with them for Christmas.
The burned victim was named Ottos, a reporter who was quite infamous within the NYPD.
But Ottos wasn't famous for his professionalism.
Well... He was, in a way. Because his specialty was going after the police department. He loved digging up dirt on the NYPD, especially on corrupt officers.
That was why Detective Mahoney had said George was under a lot of pressure.
Because Ottos wasn't popular.
At least, not with the NYPD. So for most of the department, a reporter who made their lives hell being dead was actually a good thing.
But George was different.
He was a detective. A pure one.
And sure enough, George had been secretly investigating the case.
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