Jessica Casavant - Imperfect Past

Jessica Casavant

Yellow Rose Books (2004)

Boston Detective Jamie Saunders has always held on to hope: that she could find missing children, that she could stop the predators living in her city, that she could continue to defend and protect as she’d sworn all those years ago. But when she takes on a terrible new case, instead of hope all she sees is hate. Even with the help of friends, is it possible to come to terms with the fact that the past can’t be undone? Will she have the courage to revisit a past she’s always hoped would stay buried forever? You won’t be able to put down this gripping new novel, the third in the Boston Friends’ series by the author of Twist of Fate and Walking Wounded.

Disclaimer: Please be forewarned that this story contains explicit and graphic sex between two consenting adult females. If you are under the age of 18 or live in a place where this type of story is il egal then please stop reading now.

-Imperfect Past-

by

Jessica Casavant

PROLOGUE

It was a day fol owing other days of sweat and hazy skies. They were no puffy white clouds or balmy breezes. Only a wal of humidity and smog nearly thick enough to swim in. Even the thunderstorm the night before had caused barely a ripple. Reports on the news glumly promised more to come. In these long, lazy first days of summer the unusual heat wave moving into its second pitiless week was competing for headlines with that of a missing eight year old, as the biggest story in Boston.

Jamie Saunders sat at her desk and turned to glare at the air conditioning unit rattling in her window. The noise she was now convinced was just for show as she felt the dampness at the base of her neck. She stretched trying to work the stiffness from her back then, continued typing her report.

Murder victim number eighteen. She had been a medical student at Harvard with dreams, now her life was neatly summarized onto two pages in triplicate. Jamie stared at the pictures and shook her head, a headache playing on the edge of her forehead. She finished the report and placed it on top of the active file pile. When the telephone rang by her right elbow she reached for it absently.

"Saunders."

"Meet me at the Esplanade near Hatch Shel ." Her partner’s voice was tight and she hung up without adding anything further. Jamie stood up and grabbed her suit jacket grimacing as she thought of the heat outside. Just once I would like to ease into my week. She thought grumpily.

Jamie arrived at the park, one of many along the 17-mile stretch of land that ran along the Charles River and parked her car. The activity underway spoke volumes about what had been discovered. Police divers were already scouring the bottom of the murky pol uted waters for evidence. The entire detective squad from the major case unit was here too. That was not usual y a good sign. When Jamie stepped out into the heat, her eyes found her best friend standing to the left.

The tal attractive brunette turned and their eyes met. The look in Alex Ryan’s blue eyes was fierce and in an instant Jamie knew who the victim was and her face tightened. She strode across the parking lot and was met halfway there by the detective.

"Is it the kid?"

Alex looked at her; her startling blue eyes a little wild. "We don’t know yet."

Jamie swore quietly. The dead were her business. She lived with them, worked with them, and studied them. She dreamed of them. A decade as a cop had toughened her. Given her a cold clinical and often cynical eye toward death and its many causes. Murder no longer shocked but it continued to repel.

She fol owed Alex to the river’s edge and stepped under the yel ow police tape and saw the black duffel bag. Intent on the bag she only partly registered that one of the newer uniforms was throwing up against a tree.

Jamie glanced down and for a moment forgot that she shouldn’t be shocked. Inside the bag was the naked torso of a young child. Instinct told her that it was the dismembered body of the eight-year-old girl who had gone missing two days before.

"Who’s got this?" Her face very briefly reflected ferocity and fury until it was smoothed out again.

"Kodalski."

Jamie’s eyes shifted to her left looking for the detective in charge of the sex crime unit. She found him standing at the water’s edge, staring into the iron gray water. He was built like the linebacker he had once been except for the extra pounds in the middle that refused to go. Jamie watched him surreptitiously wiped at tears. She looked away unwil ing to invade his privacy and felt her eyes burn. As a police officer she always held on to hope. Hope that she could find missing children. Hope that she would be able to be the protector she had been sworn to be. Hope that she could find the kil ers that lived in her city. But moments like these made it difficult to believe in hope. It only made her believe in hate.

CHAPTER ONE — a week later

The scream ripped the silence of the hotel corridor. Having entered the suite only seconds earlier, the maid stumbled from the room crying for help and randomly banging on the doors of the other guestrooms. A shoe salesman in town for a sales convention was the only one stil in his room, and he was nursing a hangover. He had just finished shoving his head under an icy cold spray when he heard the pounding at the door. A towel hastily wrapped around his thick waist, he stepped out and with bleary eyes, tried to focus on the frantic woman with the waving arms. It took a moment to register that the major impediment to his understanding was that the hysterical words were spoken in rapid fire Spanish. Giving up, but knowing that something terrible had happened, he went back to his room to cal down to the front desk and ask for help.

***

Jamie was poring through the tips that kept coming into the police hot line. The tips as they came in were logged, summarized and prioritized. The vicious murder of an eight year old had galvanized the city of Boston. One week after finding the body parts stuffed into two black duffel bags, the team of detectives was stil scouring the river for further clues, and awaiting the results of the DNA testing taken from the body. The waters of the Charles meant to wash away al evidence of the crime hadn’t done a very good job. Because they had found the containers that held the child’s remains so quickly, there was a lot of forensic evidence stil intact or so they believed. Eight days after the eight year old became the city’s nineteenth homicide victim of the year, Sarah Timley’s kil er remained on the loose and the press was starting to ask an obvious question. How long is too long to wait for a murderer to be dragged away in handcuffs? Jamie as a seasoned investigator knew that a week without an arrest was hardly reason to panic. But stil the fact that they had nothing was maddening. The more promising tips had been already fol owed up and cleared and they were now sifting through the ones that most likely would not bear any fruit. She sighed needing a break from the creepy thoughts crowding her mind. From the endless grief of the family that was too much to witness. Her eyes drifted to the front door of the restaurant, pul ed there by the sudden noise of distant traffic and noticed her the moment she walked into the restaurant.

Even in a crowd the woman was definitely a standout. Tal and lean, with long brown hair that fel in a wave to her shoulders, she hesitated in the entrance while her eyes scanned the room as if looking for someone. Deductive reasoning was Jamie’s forte, and she watched from a table in the back as her mind toyed with fanciful thoughts of who the stranger might be. Part of her instinctively registered that the woman was unsettled, upset. It was there in her body language, in the tight way she held on to her purse.

Jamie sipped her wine as she continued to stare at the newcomer with interest, then suddenly she realized that her stare was being returned. When their eyes met, Jamie’s heart lurched as she felt the jolt of it - perhaps it was the embarrassment of having been caught staring - but she didn’t look away.

Despite the server momentarily blocking their line of sight, they maintained eye contact for several seconds and Jamie felt herself warm under the frank assessment of cool eyes. She sensed the other woman’s surprise. But at what? Then the brunette abruptly broke contact as she settled in at a smal table and turned her attention to the menu.

Jamie’s eyes returned to the folders in front of her and she tried to concentrate on the words on the page. She felt rather than saw the woman’s eyes return to her. She fought against the urge to lift her head again, but her heart started racing at the possibilities. Several minutes passed before Jamie gave up trying to pretend an interest in her paperwork that she didn’t feel and lifted her eyes once more. Her heart skipped a beat as she found herself staring into deep green eyes. A faint smile might have appeared on the woman’s face, but Jamie’s view was partial y obscured by a heavy-set man with a sun burnt face, who had approached the woman’s table, apparently fortified by too many glasses of Scotch. Jamie frowned in momentary annoyance at the interruption, half amused at herself for caring. She was about to turn her attention back to her notes when the scene unfolding at the woman’s table drew her eyes back.

"I couldn’t help but notice a pretty little thing like you sitting here al by your lonesome."

"I’m waiting for someone," the brunette said, keeping her tone pleasant.

"Yeah - waiting for me." He pul ed out a chair and settled his extra pounds in front of her. "Why don’t I buy you a drink?"

She indicated the glass of wine in front of her. "No thanks. Already got one."

"Oh, yeah," he chuckled. "Wel , then, I wil join you." He turned to look for the waitress, waving his hand to get her attention and missed the look of frustration mixed with panic that crossed his companion’s face. Al she had wanted was a few minutes of peace to settle her jangled nerves. To think, to plan. She tried to think of a way to get rid of him without causing a scene.

"Hey, sorry I’m late. Couldn’t get out of the meeting any earlier," Jamie added breathlessly as she pul ed up a chair.

It had been an impulse. Without real y thinking about it, Jamie had found herself crossing the café to the woman’s table. Now, seeing up close what she had glimpsed from a distance made her more than happy that she had acted on her notion. The hair was not brown, but a rich toffee color, streaked with gold as if sun kissed. Her lashes were a shade darker than her hair. The eyes, looking up at Jamie in surprise, were a rich green flecked with gold. Her startled look turned to a smile, dimples appearing on both sides of her mouth.

"Oh, that’s okay. I was just tel ing this nice man that I was waiting for you."

Jamie turned cool gray eyes to the man. "Hel o. If you don’t mind, we real y would like to be alone."

He looked as if he was about to argue, but something in Jamie’s eyes stopped him. He had seen that look before - quiet and deadly. It made his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swal owed nervously.

"Sure, sure. Didn’t want her to get lonely, that’s al . Excuse me." His hurried exit was almost comical.

The brunette watched him go, then turned her attention back to Jamie. "Thank you. It was becoming a sticky situation."

Jamie smiled. "You’re welcome. I’m Jamie."

The brunette accepted her hand with a smile. "Shane." Their eyes held for a fraction longer. Jamie was the first to look away as she withdrew her hand.

"Can I buy you a drink? After al , it’s the least I can do for you saving me," Shane offered.

"When you put it that way, how can I refuse? He was much bigger than me, but I was prepared to use force if necessary." She grinned. "It could have been ugly."

Shane motioned the waitress over, and they silently waited for her to return with their order.

"So, do you often go around rescuing people like that?" Shane broke the quiet.

"Hardly ever, and only if they are beautiful. I don’t bother with the ugly ones." It was said with such self-deprecating humor that Shane started to laugh. "Did I come across as very brave?"

Shane smiled. "Very."

"Good. I have no idea what I would have done if he had stayed. Probably poured a glass of whatever was on hand over his head." They exchanged smiles.

***

Accompanied by a uniformed cop, Alex Ryan, Jamie’s detective partner entered the elevator of the hotel and rode in silence. Stil visible on her face was the annoyance of being pul ed away from a romantic dinner by her pager. Yet despite her irritation, when the elevator door opened on the 10th floor, Alex experienced a thril she immediately recognized. She had visited countless murder scenes - some rather tame and ordinary, others remarkably grisly.

Some were forgettable and routine, others she would remember forever - either because of the imaginative flair of the kil er, the strange surroundings in which the body had been discovered, or the age and circumstances of the victim. But her first visit to a crime scene never failed to give her a rush of adrenaline, which she refused to be ashamed of. This was what she had been born to do.

When she stepped out of the elevator, the conversation among the plainclothes officers in the hal way subsided. Respectful y or fearful y they stepped aside for her as she made her way to the open door of the hotel suite where an important man had died. She peered inside. She was glad to see the officers of the crime scene unit already there, going about their various duties. Satisfied by the activity she saw, she turned back to the officers who stil stood in the corridor.

"Listen up. I wil not tolerate a single mistake. If there’s any contamination of this crime scene, if there’s the slightest breach of proper procedure, if the merest speck of evidence is overlooked or compromised by someone’s carelessness, the offender’s ass wil be shredded by me, personal y." Her startling blue eyes made contact with each one, then she said, "Okay, let’s go."

Inside, Alex approached the two men identified as being the first officers on the scene. They shifted under her cool stare, already feeling defensive. She had a reputation for being a hard ass, and they were worried that they had screwed up somehow.

"Did you touch him?"

"No, Ma’am."

"Touch anything?"

"No, Ma’am."

"The doorknob?"

"The door was standing open when we got here. The maid who found him had left it open."

"Telephone?"

"No, ma’am, I used my cel ."

"Have you questioned the maid?"

The heavy-set man shrugged at the question. "Tried. But she’s hysterical. She keeps crossing herself and pleading for the Virgin Mary. My Spanish is a bit rusty but what I can get out of her is that she found the body lying face down over there." He nodded in the direction of the living room.

"Did you feel for a pulse?"

The officer glanced at his partner, who spoke for the first time. "I did. Just to make sure he was dead."

"Where?"

He shifted his weight. "Where what?"

"Where did you touch him?"

"I tried to find a pulse on his neck."

Her face was expressionless but her eyes zeroed in on him. The look in them made him swal ow nervously and he felt the heat rising up his neck. "But only for that."

"Mm…I take it you didn’t feel one?" The dryness was lost on him.

"A pulse?" The cop shook his head. "No. He was dead."

Alex moved into the room to the body. "Anyone heard from the medical examiner?" she threw over her shoulder.

"On his way."

Alex stared at the dead body, a pool of drying blood by its head. He had been a large man and now seemed strangely diminished, lying face down on the pale blue carpet in his robe. She felt the tension tighten her forehead like a vice. I would have given anything not to have caught this case. The murder of a prominent man is going to bring out the entire contingent of press, politicians, and conspiracy theorist, al breathing down my neck. Especial y since the dead man was a controversial chief justice. When it rains it real y pours.

***

"Do you come here often?" Shane asked, acknowledging with a wry smile the lameness of her question.

"I practical y live here. One of my closest friends owns the place." Jamie glanced around, then back at her companion. "I have never seen you here before." Her fingers toyed with her glass.

"No?"

"No. I would have remembered." Jamie’s gray eyes settled on her then retreated back to her glass.

Shane smiled, flattered; yet there was caution in her look, as if she wasn’t sure whether or not she could completely relax. "I stumbled onto it. I was walking around kil ing time, and I liked the blue sign. It was an impulse." Or was it fate? Shane thought. Of al the bars to stop at, she had picked this one, and tumbled into something she was unsure of.

Jamie sensed the tension under the light tone. She studied her for a moment. Their eyes met. Something very close to fear entered the clear green eyes, and then retreated. Intrigued, Jamie wanted to ask her about herself, about her life. Wanted to find out more about her. Instinct told her she wouldn’t get anywhere with her questions. What does she have to hide? Her eyes quickly looked down at the hands lying on the table. She was temporarily relieved that they were bare.

Aware of the object of Jamie’s glance, Shane didn’t know whether to be pleased or worried. They looked at each other. She has the deepest, darkest of eyes, Shane thought. Eyes that look through you. No, not through you - into you. To the secret places no one is al owed access to. The look was such that she could have sworn that Jamie knew everything about her from just that one look. And it worried her.

"So, do you believe in love at first sight?" Jamie asked with a smile.

Startled, Shane looked at her. It’s as if she can read my mind, she thought, almost amused. She cleared her throat. "You don’t know anything about me, about my life."

"I know that you have a great smile. I know that you obviously have great taste, since you picked me up."

"I didn’t pick you up, you picked me up."

"Real y?" The grin was wicked. "That’s not how I remember it."

Shane’s answering smile was slow and easy. "I see. Short term memory problems?"

Jamie shook her head. "Selective memory. I like the sound of that better." Her smile sent heat rushing out to al of Shane’s extremities and she shifted in her chair.

"So, now that we are in love, what do we do about it?" Jamie asked playful y.

Shane’s tension eased slightly. For right now, in that moment she wanted to play along. "I don’t know. In novels, isn’t this the part where we ride off into the sunset?"

Jamie shook her head. "I have to kiss you first, I think. The hero-" she pointed at herself, "that would be me - sweeps the damsel off her feet." She pointed at Shane. "That would be you. Then we kiss, and then we ride off into the sunset."

Their eyes met and Shane felt the slow blush creep up and over her cheeks. "Wel …there is that," she responded dryly. "Are you always this impulsive?"

she asked.

Again the grin appeared. "Hardly ever. And only with beautiful women."

Shane had to smile. Despite her disquiet, she was curious to see how far their banter could go. "What do you do, besides rescuing women?"

"When I’m bored, I don a cape and fight crime and mayhem. You?"

"I’m working on a cure for cancer."

The conversation was sil y and playful and made no sense, but they were both enjoying the undercurrents of what was starting to happen between them, as it sat there unacknowledged. The attraction had come swiftly, and now they danced around it not quite touching it.

"When you are not looking for miracle cures, what else do you like to do?"

Shane looked at her, then away. "Read, run, and swim. Sometimes I’l even sit by the water and do nothing, just breathe. How about you?"

Jamie toyed with her glass. "Interestingly enough, the same." She pushed a suddenly unsteady hand through her hair, as she felt the electricity of attraction dance over her skin. "Though lately I have also taken to murdering plants as a hobby. I’m just trying to see if I have a green thumb."

"Do you?"

"It’s hard to say. The plants don’t live long enough to prove it conclusively." Shane laughed out loud and Jamie enjoyed the sound of her laughter.

***

"Do we know what kil ed him?"

The coroner was a large and imposing man, with a soft-spoken manner. He stood up slowly, taking his time answering. He had studied the body as it had been - face down. He had inspected the victim’s hands and fingers, taken a sample from his fingernails. It wasn’t until he had completed the initial examination and asked assistance in turning the victim over that he had uncovered his first surprise-a nasty wound on the judge’s temple at the hairline.

"Was he hit first or was he shot and this happened when he fel ?" Alex asked, squatting down for a closer look.

"I’l have to examine the wound more closely, you understand. However, my first guess would be that he sustained this head wound before he died, not post mortem. Stil , it’s certainly ugly and could have caused brain trauma of some sort."

"But you don’t think so."

"Truly, Alex, I don’t. It doesn’t appear that traumatic. Most of the swel ing is on the outside not the inside."

Alex stood up. "At this point, is it safe to say that he died from the gunshots?"

He nodded. "That would be my first impression; but it’s only conjecture at this point," he cautioned. "Looks to me like he fel or was pushed before he died."

"How long before?"

"That wil be hard to determine."

"But you are going to try?" It was less a question than a statement and Alex turned, not waiting for an answer. She respected the coroner and knew he would be meticulous in his work. Alex walked around the room looking for anything that was out of place, her eyes unable to be stil . She studied the half ful glass of whiskey on the table. The fingerprint tech had already dusted the table and the glass, and the residue showed the prints against the side of the table. She tried to reconstruct what might have happened.

"Let’s say he went to pick up his glass to take a drink and pitched forward."

"Accidental y?" one of the other detectives asked.

"Maybe, but not necessarily. Somebody could have pushed him from behind, caused him to lose his balance. He went over." She enacted it as she developed her theory. "He tried to break his fal by catching the edge of the table, but maybe his head struck the floor so hard he lost consciousness, landing him over here." She crossed to where the body lay.

"Then whoever pushed him, popped him with two bul ets in the back," the detective added.

The coroner nodded his head. "He definitely was shot from behind."

"That’s cold, man," the detective commented. "Shooting the guy in the back when he was already down. Somebody was pissed."

"It was somebody he knew," another detective - a tal thin young man going prematurely gray - cut in. Alex raised a brow at him and he continued somewhat nervously. "No sign of forced entry, no indication that the door locks were jimmied, so either the perp had a key, or the victim opened the door for him."

Not to be outdone, the first detective picked up the construct. "His room key was stil in his pocket. Robbery doesn’t appear to be the motive, unless it was thwarted. His wal et was found in a front pocket, beneath the body, and it appears untouched. Nothing is missing."

Alex nodded her approval. "Okay, so we’ve got something to work with here, but we’ve stil got a long way to go. What we don’t have are a weapon and a suspect. Somebody saw something. Let’s get started with the questioning. Round them up."

The detectives filed out of the room to begin the questioning of hotel guests and employees. Alex turned to the coroner. "Can we get it done quickly?"

"A couple of days."

"I need it in a day."

"That means my weekend is shot to hel ."

"So’s mine," Alex replied. "This has noise written al over it. It wil have everyone that’s anyone breathing down our necks."

The coroner final y smiled. "I’l do my best."

Alex smiled at him. "You always do, Jim. Thanks."

***

The song ended and Shane pul ed away reluctantly. Jamie had asked her to dance. Curious to know how she would feel in her arms, Shane had impulsively agreed. Now she knew. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes turbulent. She studied Jamie, the look serious, sober, almost painful in its intensity.

"I have to go." The words came out husky.

Stung, lost in the first flush of arousal, it took a moment for the words to register on Jamie. "What? What? Why?"

Shane shook her head. "I’m sorry. I have to go."

For a fraction of a second, Jamie’s fingers tightened on her arms as if ready to stop her. Amazed at that reaction, Jamie released her then stepped back, a puzzled look on her face. "Why?" she asked again softly.

Shane didn’t meet her eyes. "I’m sorry." She hurried out without a backward glance.

As Jamie watched her leave, possible explanations bounced around in her mind: She’s married, in a relationship, straight. Unbelievably, none of it mattered. There was something there. She had never felt such a raw reaction to anyone in her life. She wasn’t so unschooled as to believe that it hadn’t been mutual. That having been decided, she ran after the woman. Outside, her eyes quickly scanned the street and she caught a glimpse of gold a block away. She ran in that direction, getting there just as Shane was getting into her car. She grabbed the door, holding it open. Shane stared at her, lips parted.

"Please don’t go."

Shane sighed, looking unhappy. "Just let it go."

"Tel me you didn’t feel it, and I’l go," Jamie chal enged.

Shane opened her mouth to lie. One little lie and this would be over. Their eyes met and Shane felt her body react to the look. She closed her mouth.

Jamie’s look was triumphant. "Let’s go somewhere to talk."

Shane almost looked amused. "Talk?"

Jamie smiled. "Wil you fol ow me? My car is just over there." Seeing Shane’s hesitation, Jamie impulsively bent down and closed her mouth over her quarry’s.

As her mouth opened under Jamie’s, Shane thought, I wonder if this is what danger tastes like - something dark that pul s at me until it feels like I’m going under.

Jamie pul ed away and with a quick determined look, she crossed to her car. Only then did she turn to see if Shane was waiting for her. She got in and started her car, her eyes on the rear view mirror. Al through the drive, Jamie was convinced that Shane would stop fol owing her and disappear, never to be seen again. Several minutes later when they pul ed into a quiet residential street and turned onto a shady driveway, she hid her relief when she saw Shane pul up behind her. Jamie got out and waited for the golden haired woman to catch up to her.

"Is this your home?" Shane asked, heart hammering as she neared Jamie.

"Yes." Jamie unlocked the front door and moved aside to let her in.

"Do you bring a lot of women here?"

The tone was light, but Jamie heard the interest behind the question as she concentrated on closing the door. She threw her keys onto a smal table nestled in an alcove near the door. "I’ve never brought anyone here."

"Never?"

Jamie looked into the living room to her right for a moment, hesitating, then turned her head to look at Shane. For some reason, she wanted to be completely honest with this woman. "Never. I didn’t want the memory of their presence to interfere with my private space." There was a pause. "Until now."

Shane’s heart tripped and she felt herself warm under the thoughtful gray eyes.

"Would you like a drink?" Jamie asked, breaking the intense visual contact.

"No."

Jamie turned and reached out for her. The moment her palm stroked down Shane’s arm, she was gripped with a flash of pleasure that raised goose bumps along her skin. Jamie hesitated for a moment and it was Shane that made the next move. Her lips brushed, retreated, teased then touched again.

She didn’t object when Jamie pressed her head closer, when her mouth closed hungrily over hers. What erupted was impatience, desperation. Then even that was lost in a torrent of heat that left them both gasping.

"This is rash and reckless and..."

"…total y irresponsible."

"But I can’t help it…"

"…Neither can I. Oh God, kiss me again," Shane groaned.

The breeze that fluttered the curtains of the open windows was cool and temperate. Within the two women was a furnace that stoked higher and higher.

"I want to…"

"I want you to…"

Jamie was frantic for more of Shane. There was a rush to touch, a hurry to feel, and little time to savor. In their haste, clothes ripped, tangled; buttons scattered on the hardwood floor. Their bodies, slick, heated as they came together. Legs, arms - there was no way of knowing where one started and the other ended. They never made it upstairs, never even past the living room, as they tumbled down to the smooth polished oak floor. Jamie knew she wouldn’t last as need poured through her. When cool fingers found her wet and ready, Jamie was already coming in a wild, wet burst.

"Jesus!" Her eyes flew open, nearly black with shock. "Jesus. What was that?"

Shane col apsed over her, smal shudders stil dancing along her body. "I don’t know. I don’t know."

They looked at each other, stunned, cautious. Jamie felt the first trickle of fear, of panic at how out of control she had felt, was stil feeling. This was too quick. Too rash. She closed her eyes, but could not help the faint smile curving her mouth.

Watching her, Shane wanted to feel that mouth on hers again. Desperately, like one starving for water. Instead she let her fingers dance on the smooth skin of Jamie’s arm, her rib cage.

Jamie opened one eye. "I think my brain has leaked out of my ears." Shane’s laugh - low and sexy - sent fresh arousal spinning through Jamie.

"We might need to try this again," Shane said.

Jamie opened the other eye. "Yeah. I think so. Let’s try to make it upstairs this time."

Shane’s grin was wicked. "We can try…"

Slowly, Jamie pul ed Shane’s shirt over her head. Before she had touched her in darkness. She knew what she felt like, but she wanted to see what her hands and mouth had touched. She wasn’t disappointed. Shane was lovely. Jamie liked seeing her hands on the smooth tanned skin, liked watching the breasts respond to her stroking, the dark nipples hardening under her fingertips, liked hearing Shane’s hum of pleasure when her mouth lowered to them.

"You like this?" Jamie asked

"Yes."

She took a dusky nipple into her mouth and sucked it. Shane clasped her head and moaned softly.

"Too hard?"

"No."

Jamie leaned over her and, holding her face between her hands, kissed her so passionately that Shane’s body arched off the floor in order to touch hers, long legs straddling Jamie’s firm thigh. Shane’s hips started to move and push against her as the throbbing between her legs increased. Jamie’s hand skimmed over breasts, down a ribcage, onto a smooth stomach. "Look at you. You are stunning." She fitted her hands into the vee of Shane’s thighs, covering her mound with a palm, her fingers tapering downward, inward into her softness. "You’re already…"

"Yes.

"So sweet, so…"

"Oh…" Shane gasped.

"Wet." Jamie rose above her for another kiss. It was a silky, sexy kiss that ended only when Shane gave a soft cry and climaxed around her fingers, against her thumb.

Moments later Shane opened her eyes and saw Jamie smiling down at her, her eyes a soft, warm gray. "I’m sorry."

"Sorry?" Jamie repeated, laughing softly.

"I couldn’t hold it…"

Jamie’s lips were impossibly soft, her whisper urgent. "Don’t worry."

"Let me touch you," Shane groaned.

"You don’t have to."

"I need to." Shane’s mouth was urgent as it savored Jamie’s neck…shoulders… mouth.

Lips sucked and nipped at breasts; hands felt the weight of them. Urgent, her mouth traveled lower - tasting, searching. The fire was there, but smoldering rather than blazing. Al at once Jamie’s body became very stil , almost as if even her breathing had stopped. Shane’s tongue slipped inside, slow and gentle as it stroked and licked the inner wal s, pushing deep then retreating. Sure and quick, her tongue darted out to press firmly against Jamie’s aching center. The low moan from above spurred her on. Shane felt her own body tighten and react, her own wetness increase. She had never before come without direct stimulation, but knew she could now. Her tongue - hot and questing - felt the thickening ridges, her eager mouth gathered the increasing wetness, and her teeth gently toyed with the hardening tip; then her lips started to suck greedily.

"Oh God, Shane I’m so close."

"Hold on to it," Shane whispered urgently.

But Jamie was too close to last. Unable to hold on any longer, Jamie let herself go as she bucked against the hot mouth. As the waves rol ed through Jamie, she stayed suspended in the moment until, with one last cry; she fel back against the floor, Shane’s head against her stomach. With her heart stil racing, Jamie tried to form a coherent thought of something, anything, but her mind was completely empty. When a soft tongue flicked against her sensitive clit, she almost arched off the bed.

"Stop. Mercy," she groaned. Her arms felt like lead as she tried to reach for her sweet tormentor.

"Mercy?"

Jamie lifted her head at the amused tone. "Let’s at least make it to the bed."

The tongue flicked against her once more, and her body shuddered almost painful y. It was a mystery to them both how they managed to make it upstairs.

"Please don’t go. Stay," Jamie whispered as she struggled to stay awake.

Struggling against her own exhaustion, Shane watched her succumb to sleep. The whole evening had been so unbelievable that for a moment she was sure she was dreaming. Then the reality of what had just happened slowly settled over her and with it the misgivings. What am I doing here? With this woman? Instinct told her that the night would come back to haunt her. And for a brief moment, she knew to be afraid.

CHAPTER TWO

She was gone. Jamie looked around and knew without searching the house that Shane was gone. The anger surged, fol owed quickly by disappointment.

Why? It just doesn’t make sense. Unexpectedly, out of the blue, you meet someone - like getting a gift for no particular occasion. The attraction is instantaneous, strong and mutual. You have sex that makes you feel like you’ve never known what it was al about before. You fal asleep in each others arms and feel more content than you ever remember feeling. Then you wake up alone. Swearing, she got out of bed and stood in the room naked, head tilted as she listened to the quiet of her house. She’s gone. And I don’t even know her last name.

"Somebody better be dead," the cranky, sleepy voice answered.

"Hey, Darcy."

"Jamie? What time is it? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Listen, did you see the woman I was talking to at your place last night?"

There was a pause. It didn’t take long for the explosion. "Are you fucking crazy? It’s six o’clock in the fucking morning and you’re cal ing me for that? I only answer to emergencies before 9 a.m. This is not an emergency," her friend grumbled. "I’m hanging up now."

Jamie’s tone was sheepish. "No, wait. Wait. I’m sorry, I know it’s dumb, but did you see her?"

"It’s more than dumb." There was a sigh as Darcy tried to shake the sleep from her brain.

"Look, James, last night was a bad night in the kitchen and I hardly even noticed that you were there. What’s going on? You don’t have another crush on a straight woman do you?"

"No. Nothing like that. And anyway the straight women I fal for always end up gay." Jamie defended thinking of the women she had had a crush on. "I mean first Lauren fel for Madison and Kate…wel Kate is testing her powers. And I don’t feel like being anybody’s first victim. So you didn’t see her?"

"No."

"Okay, don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep." Feeling foolish, she hung up in the middle of Darcy’s curse. Clearly she had lost it. So it was a one-night stand, so what? It wasn’t like they had promised each other anything, including the decency to say goodbye. Her front door buzzer sounded and her heart started to race, hopeful that Shane had come back. Maybe she went out for coffee. Jamie hurried to the door, but her smile quickly turned to a frown when she found her best friend waiting on the other side.

"Get dressed. There’s been a murder. I wil need your help," Alex told her partner bluntly as her eyes scanned the room. They came to rest on the discarded clothing on the floor, and an eyebrow shot up in amusement. Seeing where Alex’s attention was, Jamie bent down and grabbed her clothes, then turned to go upstairs, ignoring the silent question.

"Where?" she asked as she started up the stairs.

"The Colonnade."

"Who is the victim?

"The Chief Justice. This one’s going to be hel . I’ve already got the mayor’s office breathing down my neck." Alex didn’t notice how stil Jamie had become as she vented.

She turned and frowned when she saw she wasn’t moving. "Are you getting dressed or what?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

In the car, Jamie sat lost in thought. Alex glanced at her. "Want to stop for coffee? You look like shit," she added, with a smile to soften the insult.

Jamie nodded. "Gee, thanks."

They pul ed closer to the hotel. Already word was out and the television news trucks were parked along the street, while curious locals pressed onto the sidewalk, gawking into the entrance. Alex swore. She turned to Jamie. "Just what we need — a media circus. Someone must have tipped them off because we haven’t released anything, pending notification of the next of kin." She shook her head, frustrated. "We are stil trying to find them. I hear there was a wife at some point, but we are stil searching."

Jamie slowly got out of the car, the expression on her face careful y neutral. "There was a wife, but a brother in Florida is the one who should be notified."

"Yeah? And you know this how?" Alex asked, curious.

Jamie took a sip of coffee as she avoided her friend’s eyes. "He was my father." She turned and headed toward the entrance, leaving behind a stunned Alex.

Inside the penthouse suite, Jamie looked around, trying to imagine her father in this room. There were no personal touches, no hint of what kind of man he had become. Her eyes found the dark red stain where the body had rested. She felt nothing, except relief that she could walk around the suite and study everything with cool detachment. He was just another victim, after al . She did not acknowledge feeling relieved that he was dead. How often have I wished it so? She heard Alex behind her and avoided meeting her eyes. "What do we know?" she asked calmly.

Taking her cue from the brusque tone, Alex took the notepad from her back pocket and flipped through a few pages. "There is no sign of forced entry.

There is a wound on his forehead that indicates he might have fal en or been pushed, causing him to hit his head. While he was lying on the floor, he was shot in the back of the head. That’s about it so far." She studied Jamie. "Jamie, are you…"

"Where is the body now?" Jamie cut in, avoiding the obvious concern.

"Morgue."

Jamie nodded and stepped closer to the stain, her eyes fol owing the trajectory that the body might have taken on its way down. She felt Alex watching her. She lifted her head and final y met her eyes. "We’l talk later, okay? Let’s just get this done."

Alex closed her notepad and nodded. "Fine. Let’s go find out what Jim’s got."

CHAPTER THREE

One of the detectives burst into Alex’s office. "We got something."

Alex stood up and cal ed out to Jamie who was in the office next door.

"We found a witness who claims they saw a woman enter the judge’s room around the estimated time of death."

"Where did you find the witness?"

"He had already checked out, but we caught up with him at the airport, just in the nick of time. He had a room on the same floor and was on his way to check out when he ran into the woman near the elevator. He can’t be positive that she entered the victim’s room, but that’s just a technicality. We can work on establishing that."

"Let’s go."

***

The witness was a nondescript man, stil wearing what he liked to cal his making an impression tourist attire, of polyester pants, white socks, dark shoes and an eye popping plaid sport jacket. "Wil I have to testify in court? I mean, if you catch this lady and it turns out she kil ed that man, would I have to point her out at the trial?" There was a hopeful note in his voice.

"That’s a possibility," Alex answered.

He nodded, satisfied. "Okay, I’l do it. It’s my civic duty."

"Indeed. Thank you, Mr. Watson."

Jamie carried her lukewarm coffee to the window, and stared out at a day that was too sunny to match her mood. She had to shake it off. I’m mooning over a stranger. That’s pathetic. Jamie wandered over toward the chair where the artist and the witness sat. A book of sketches lay open on his lap, picturing what seemed to be an endless variety of eye shapes. Jamie glanced down at the rendering taken shape under the artist’s competent hands. So far she was working on getting the shape of the possible suspect’s face correct.

"Maybe a bit thinner through here," Mr. Watson indicated.

The artist nodded and made the corrections. "How about her hair? Was it long or short?"

He thought for a moment. "About here." He indicated the top of his shoulder.

"Bangs?"

"On her forehead, you mean? No."

"Straight or curly?"

He looked momentarily lost. "Straight, I guess. Wavy is how I would describe it."

She drew some more, and the only sound heard was the scratch of her pencil against paper. "She was wearing it down, then?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Look through this magazine. See if there is a picture in there that resembles her hairstyle." He turned the pages of the fashion magazine.

Seeing that the sketch artist had things wel in hand, Alex pul ed Jamie aside. "Why didn’t you ever tel me about the judge being your father?" There was puzzled hurt behind the question. They had been friends since grade school and not once had that information been shared. Alex felt betrayed by the omission, unsure for the first time about how close they real y were.

Having expected the questions, Jamie sighed. She had run away from her paternity for years, and now knew she couldn’t avoid it any longer. "It’s something that we as a family tried to forget." She sipped but did not taste her coffee. "He was a bastard, and took off when I was eight. The marriage ended; and his existence was erased from our family’s memories the day he walked out." Or was kicked out, she amended, leaving the thought unvoiced.

Alex studied her friend, hesitating. She sensed pain and…something else. But Jamie’s face remained blank.

Jamie looked at her. "I’m sorry I never shared that with you, but my mother had asked us not to discuss it; and after a while, it was almost like he had never existed for us."

It was as logical a reason as any, but Alex was not total y satisfied. Years of being a detective, told her there was more to the story than a bitter divorce, but this was neither the place nor time to discuss it.

"Okay." She turned and went back to the artist.

Troubled, Jamie sighed. She knew Alex was hurt, and that they would be talking about this again. Years of closeness would make a confrontation inevitable. Half listening to the sketch artist and Mr. Watson, her ears caught the man’s words to her.

"It was gold."

"You mean blonde."

"No, not blonde and not brunette - right in the middle. Almost like caramel. Pure gold."

"Pure gold." Her fingers stroked the golden head. "Your hair is pure gold. Her mouth inched closer, feeling rather than hearing the catch in her breathing.

"You like this?"

"Yes."

"I want to..."

"I want you to…God, now!"

Jamie gasped as the arousal slammed into her, and for a moment she thought she had cried out loud. Her attention turned to the artist. She swal owed a sip of coffee that had suddenly turned bitter in her mouth. She inched toward the chair with the reluctance of an acrophobic approaching the rim of the Grand Canyon.

"How’s that?" the artist asked, showing her work.

"Hey, that’s pretty good. Except she had, you know, strands around her face."

Jamie moved closer.

"Like this?"

"Yes"

"Good. That just leaves the mouth." Setting aside the magazine, the artist flipped the sketchbook open to another section. "Do you remember anything distinctive about her mouth?

He looked momentarily embarrassed. "Her mouth looked kinda like this one." He pointed to one. "Except her lower lip was ful er. Real y kissable like." He flushed and Alex hid a smile. Jamie couldn’t work up the courage to look down at the handiwork.

"Anything resembling this?"

"Wel , I’l be damned. That’s her."

Hearing the soft exclamation, Alex peered down at the image.

"It’s not exact, but it’s pretty damn close," Mr. Watson reported.

"Were you close enough to see the color of her eyes?" Alex asked.

"No, ’fraid not."

They were green. Deep green, Jamie thought, sickened.

"How tal was she?"

He looked at Alex. "Tal er than you, but not as tal as her." He pointed to Jamie.

"I’m 5’8 and Jamie’s 5’10", so that makes her about 5’9."

"Weight?"

"Not much."

"Do you remember what she was wearing?"

His smile was sheepish. "Shorts or a skirt. I’m sure because I noticed her legs."

Her long legs wrapped around her waist and her mouth was urgent. "Hurry."

The artist stood up and started packing up her books and sketchpads. "Wel , I’m done. If you need anything else, cal me."

Alex thanked her and walked her to the door. She returned to the older man who sat thril ed about how al of this would play out at the lodge. His part in it would be embel ished, of course. Alex helped him up and with a hand on his elbow nudged him along to the door.

"We wil cal you if we need anything more from you, Mr. Watson. Thank you so much for your help." He turned in the doorway.

"She doesn’t look like a kil er, does she? So pretty and al ."

"Which doesn’t mean squat when you’re talking guilt or innocence. Pretty women can kil just as wel as ugly ones," Alex responded, ushering him out with a smile.

Alex turned back in and caught the look on Jamie’s face. "What’s with you?"

I must look as nauseous as I feel. "Nothing."

"Wel , we’ve got our suspect; let’s go find her. Of course, it would help if we knew her name, but we can’t have everything," Alex added with a faint smile.

Shane. Her name is Shane, Jamie thought.

CHAPTER FOUR

It simply can’t be. This has to be a dream. A bad one. Shortly she would wake up - startled and alarmed and breathing heavily, her sheets damp with sweat. After orienting herself to familiar surroundings, she would realize with relief that the nightmare wasn’t real. But it is. I’m not dreaming it; I’m living it.

Impossible as it seemed, the sketch artist had drawn Shane, who had shared her bed mere hours after she was seen at the scene of a murder.

Coincidence? Highly unlikely. She must have some connection with the Chief Justice. Jamie wasn’t sure she wanted to know what that connection was. In fact, she was dead certain she didn’t want to know. She dragged a hand down her face then, propping her elbows on her desk, stared into space and tried to arrange her chaotic thoughts into some semblance of order.

First - without a doubt, unbelievable as it was, the artist had drawn the face of the woman with whom she had spent Thursday night - a face she would not likely forget, the face that had immediately attracted her as its owner stood framed in the entrance of Darcy’s bar. She had spent hours admiring, studying, caressing it. She had come to know that heartbreaking face intimately. The charcoal sketch was a two-dimensional black and white drawing. Given those limitations, it couldn’t possibly capture the inimical essence of the woman behind the face. But it had been such a close approximation that there was no doubt that she had been the one seen near the murder victim’s room shortly before fate placed her in the path of a homicide detective, who also happened to be the victim’s daughter.

"Strange but true" - a hackneyed adage that was nonetheless apt. Gul ibility was forgivable; obstruction of justice wasn’t. Why hadn’t she admitted to Alex that she recognized the woman in the sketch? She could have laughed and said something like, ‘You’l never believe who I spent the night with last night.’

She hadn’t. Because she could be completely innocent.

Truth be told, Jamie had never considered identifying Shane. From the heart-stopping moment she’d looked at the drawing and known with absolute certainty who the subject was, she knew with equal certainty, that she wasn’t going to reveal her name…or their acquaintanceship. The memory - sweet and sharp - of where she had last seen that face, the expression on that face as they made love had left her with few options. She was concealing Shane’s identity for now. And with her silence, she had wil ful y breached every rule of ethics the department had.

The withholding of information was a deliberate violation of the law she was sworn to uphold; and she had intentional y impeded a homicide investigation by not coming forward with what she knew. She couldn’t even imagine what the consequences might be. A part of her, an irrational part, wanted to find Shane and force her to admit to something, anything. Another part, equal y irrational, wanted to beg Shane to run away with her. Jamie’s teeth clenched and a muscle jumped in her jaw as she thought about seeing the toffee-haired woman again.

***

Overwhelmed with guilt, Shane nervously paced her living room floor. I should have said goodbye. I should have wakened Jamie, and told her I was leaving; but she looked so peaceful, I didn’t have the heart to wake her. Shaking her head rueful y, Shane admitted to herself that cowardice was another just as compel ing reason she had let Jamie sleep. She had been scared about waking her, about what would be said or asked. Though they had careful y stayed away from discussing anything beyond the moment they were caught up in, she instinctively knew that Jamie had hoped to wake up to her, with her.

The possessive arm thrown over her waist, as she slept spoke volumes about unconscious want. And the truth was that Shane had wanted to stay, had wanted to wake her, to share a coffee with her. To make love to her again. Instead, she had sneaked out in the darkness without even leaving a note. She could almost picture Jamie waking up alone, her hand automatical y reaching out for her. Without being told, Shane somehow knew that Jamie was not one for one-night stands, and her disappearance would hurt her. She would be angry. She would feel used. But what else could I have done?

She pushed a trembling hand through her tousled hair. The previous day had started badly and gone askew from there. She didn’t regret spending the night with Jamie. Couldn’t. It had been too much like a dream. Even now her body tingled at the remembered feel of her. It had been the most unbelievably erotic experience she had ever had, and yet even that didn’t quite explain the yearning she felt - like an ache under her skin. Their connection had been immediate. They had both recognized it right from the start. Regardless, Shane had run away from it. Mostly because of what had happened earlier in the afternoon.

That earlier confrontation had been ugly. The feelings of rage and impotence flooded her once again as she remembered, and panic soon fol owed.

Where are they? Where are the pictures? If only she hadn’t panicked the second time around and fled without more than a cursory search, she might have been lucky enough to find them before they fel into the wrong hands. Finding them would have meant that she could escape from the nightmare, a waking nightmare that had consumed her life for years. She lived her life in fear, waiting for the axe to fal . The ringing of her doorbel interrupted her pacing. With a quick frown, she crossed to open the door.

A uniformed policeman stood to the right side of a tal , dark-haired woman with unusual blue eyes. Shane’s heart plummeted, knowing what had brought them to her home. Her life was about to be pitched into chaos. To conceal her anxiety, she smiled pleasantly. "Can I help you?"

"Shane Scott?"

"Yes?"

"I’m Detective Alex Ryan, a homicide detective with Boston P.D. I’d like to talk to you about the murder of the Chief Justice, the honorable Tomas Reynolds."

"Judge Reynolds? I don’t…"

"You were seen outside of his suite on the afternoon he was murdered, so please don’t waste my time by pretending that you don’t know what I’m talking about."

She and Alex stared at one another, taking each others measure. It was Shane who relented. She stood aside. "Come in."

"Actual y, I was hoping you would come with us."

Shane swal owed, although her mouth was dry. "I’d like to cal my lawyer."

"That isn’t necessary. This isn’t an arrest." Shane looked pointedly at the stoic policeman flanking the detective, and Alex smiled. "Volunteering to be questioned without an attorney present, would go a long way toward convincing me that you’re innocent of any wrongdoing."

"I don’t believe that for an instant, Detective Ryan." Shane scored a point and Alex acknowledged it with a faint nod.

CHAPTER FIVE

One of the newer uniforms broke into Jamie’s office, panting for breath. "That sketched suspect? She’s been identified as Judge Shane Scott. A judge!

Can you believe that? It’s like in the movies. She’s being brought in for questioning by Detective Ryan as we speak."

Jamie’s palms broke into a cold sweat. "Did she arrest her?"

"Came in voluntarily. Nash from the DA’s office saw the sketch and recognized her as the judge that presided over one of her last trials. What a coincidence."

Indeed! Life is just ful of them, Jamie thought sourly. The ramifications of the news reverberated as quickly as echoes, assailing Jamie. Alex’s interrogation techniques could wring a confession from a saint. Jamie had no way of knowing how Shane might respond to them. Would she be hostile or cooperative? Would she, did she have something to confess? When she saw Jamie, would she reveal that they knew each other? To be on the safe side, Jamie wanted to postpone the inevitable face-to-face meeting for as long as possible. She was unsure of her reaction at seeing the woman who had been haunting her thoughts day and night. She waited for several minutes until she thought she had her nerves under control, then slowly made her way to the meeting room where she knew the questioning was to take place. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open. Alex was already there, sitting at a table with a tape recorder in front of her. Also present was Stacey Nash from the DA’s office. Her inclusion was primarily political. Except for rare occasions, her office didn’t become directly involved until the detectives felt they had enough evidence to press formal charges. The importance of the victim, and now the suspect, had her in attendance - more to calm jittery nerves in the Mayor’s office than to lend a hand. Jamie swal owed her resentment at the woman’s presence as she nodded in her direction. Shane was sitting at the table, her back to the door.

Alex looked at her as she entered. "There you are. Miss Scott, this is Detective Jamie Saunders."

Jamie braced herself as Shane turned and looked at her. Jamie recognized the shock in the green eyes as they looked at her, then quickly away. Their eyes engaged for only a second or two, but the non-verbal exchange couldn’t have been more meaningful had they spoken. Jamie wanted to ask, ‘What have you done to me?’ And mean it in more ways than one. She had been thunderstruck that Thursday night. She had thought, no hoped, that seeing Shane again, under bright fluorescent lighting and in a far less romantic setting, would have less of an impact. Just the opposite. She felt like she had been punched in the mid section. Yet Shane’s face remained composed and betrayed no recognition. "How do you do, Detective?"

"Ma’am." Hearing Shane’s voice was as stirring as if she had touched her. She could almost feel warm breath against her ear again. Jamie deliberately crossed the room to stand on the other side, trying to put distance between Shane and her feelings.

Shane fought against the sudden panic tightening her chest. The shock at seeing Jamie again was as unexpected as it was unsettling. Especial y now, especial y under these circumstances. I spent the night with a detective. She fought to keep her hands from trembling. It can’t get worse, can it?

Alex smiled pleasantly at her. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, your Honor." Shane acknowledged her comment with a faint nod. "Can you tel us where you were last Thursday night at approximately ten pm.?"

Jamie tensed. She was fucking my brains out, she thought as she waited to be outed.

"I was out having a drink."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"Did anyone see you?"

Shane shrugged. "I have no idea. I would imagine. Obviously, whoever served me."

"Which bar?"

There was the briefest hesitation. One would have had to be looking for it as Jamie was. "I don’t remember."

"You don’t remember?"

Shane pushed a lock of hair that had fal en over one eye. "Look, Detective, I had a bitch of day. I started walking downtown and stopped at a little bar to have a drink and relax for a few hours. If I walked around, I could probably find it again. But to be honest, I real y didn’t pay much attention to the name of the place."

"Where downtown?"

"Around. I started on Main Street and went from there."

"How long did you walk?"

"I don’t know - maybe half an hour, an hour. I real y don’t know."

"Convenient."

The word was a whisper from Stacey, but Shane heard her and her face tightened. She tried to ignore the comment. She was aware of Jamie in the room, her senses tuned to her presence against the wal . She forced herself not to turn around. She didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to read the anger and suspicion in her eyes. Worse, she didn’t want to remember how she’d felt in the cop’s arms. She forced her mind away from thinking about her, about their night together. Instinctively, she knew Jamie was trying just as hard not to think of that night. The awareness was battering at her in waves.

As Alex studied her, Shane had a disquieting thought. She senses it. She doesn’t know what yet; but she senses it.

Alex raised an eyebrow, then her eyes shifted ever so slightly to her partner - who was a study in bored nonchalance: leaning against the wal , arms crossed, staring into the distance. Only the tightness of her jaw gave her away. Alex knew her too wel not to notice. Jamie’s eyes met Alex’s and for a moment, the briefest of moments, something turbulent and wild flashed in the gray eyes. It was quick, then the eyes went blank. Puzzled, Alex’s attention turned back to Shane.

"How would you account for being at the Colonnade at the same time as you say you were at a bar?"

"I don’t."

"We have a witness who claims to have seen you there."

"Real y interesting, because I wasn’t…"

"Can anyone substantiate your alibi?"

Involuntarily Shane’s eyes found Jamie. The look was quick, just a glance; yet Alex noticed it. Her eyes narrowed then she turned her attention back to Shane.

"No. Like I said, I was having a drink. Hundreds of people could have seen me that night or none at al . It is such an everyday occurrence. Why would they remember me?"

Jamie frowned at that. Why indeed?

Alex started to ask another question.

"Listen, Detective; I think that if this interview is going to proceed, I should probably get a lawyer."

"Do you think you need one?"

"Do you?" Shane chal enged. "Are you prepared to do anything here today?"

"I am just asking questions, trying to be thorough," Alex answered calmly.

It did not fool Shane. "I have been as cooperative as I can be, but I am due in court in half an hour. Unless you are prepared to file charges, I need to leave."

Alex shrugged. "Not at this time." There was a slight emphasis on "this" that was not lost on anyone in the room. "You’re free to go." Thoughtful y, Alex watched her depart, then turned to Jamie. "You were quiet."

Jamie shrugged. "You seemed to have everything under control."

"That never stopped you before."

Jamie’s jaw tightened. Alex was right, but this case was different. She had slept with the primary suspect. "You’re reaching, Alex."

"What?"

"With her. You’re reaching. We’ve got nothing, except a witness who says he might have seen her. Pretty flimsy."

"We’ve started with a lot less before." Unperturbed Alex turned her attention to Stacey. "What did you think?"

"Pretty cool customer."

Except in bed, Jamie thought, jaw tightening. Except when she is about to come. She swore silently at her thoughts and turned her attention back to Stacey. "Wel , that’s helpful," Jamie cut in sarcastical y.

Stacey sent her an irritated look. "I mean, most innocent people wil talk too much, embel ish every point to prove their innocence. Be nervous. Show fear.

Not the judge. It was as if she was coached on what to say."

Alex nodded. "She was pretty calm."

"Maybe it comes from being a judge," Jamie interjected. "She has sat in front of how many criminal cases? She knows the dril . She wouldn’t be surprised by any line of questioning."

Alex studied her. "Point taken. Stil , there’s something there."

Jamie frowned. She wanted to punch something. She pushed off the wal and started toward the door.

"Jamie, wait a moment?" Alex crossed to her. "Are you okay? I know this must be hard." She hesitated, trying to figure out how best to handle her partner’s relationship with the deceased.

Jamie knew why she was asking, but she didn’t acknowledge the underlying question. "I’m fine. I just need to stretch my legs." Jamie left without another word.

Alex looked after her, puzzled. Something is wrong with her, and I’m going to find out what it is.

Jamie left the building and started to walk along the sidewalk. Her thoughts were chaotic; her feelings too close to the surface. She tried to grasp any one of her thoughts. Shane, her father... Father. She hadn’t thought of him that way in years, the memory of his presence in her life ruthlessly erased. Therapy had soothed away some of the edges of the past. Hatred, fear, guilt had al softened to a dul throb. She barely registered the thought that it was her father who was dead; he had stopped being that a lifetime ago. Part of her knew he deserved what he had gotten. The bastard. She suddenly realized that she should tel her mother.

***

Leaving the police precinct, Shane drove with one eye on the rear view mirror. She recognized her symptoms as paranoia but she figured she was entitled, having spent the last hour being questioned in connection with a homicide. With Jamie Saunders in the room, knowing she was lying. Of course, Jamie had also been lying by omission. I wonder why? Curiosity? To see how far I would go? She had ful y expected the detective to denounce her as a liar. She hadn’t. Maybe she was protecting her own reputation. Maybe her col eagues don’t know that she is gay. Maybe that was part of it. For today at least, Jamie had been more interested in keeping their night together a secret than in impeaching her statement and nailing her as a suspect. But that could change. I don’t have much time.

***

Hesitating, Jamie stood on the sidewalk, just looking at the tiny bungalow. The shutters had been painted a muted green; her mother’s prized roses were in ful bloom on either side of the walkway. Now that she was here, she was at a loss. She hadn’t considered how she would broach the subject of her father, that topic that had not been brought up in this house since that horrifying night when he had walked out for good, a shotgun aimed at his chest providing the motivation.

The front door opened and her mother stepped out onto the porch. She stood squinting into the sun, an older shorter version of Jamie - ful er in the face, her hair a quieter shade of blonde, her face faintly lined. Only her eyes, a soft blue, were different. Jamie had inherited her father’s eyes. Twenty-five years later, looking into those eyes stil brought a jolt of pain to the older woman. Her mother smiled at her in delight. "Hi, honey. This is a surprise."

Jamie shrugged as she climbed the steps to the smal front porch. "I was in the neighborhood." She nodded toward a couple of white wicker chairs in the corner, inviting one to sit and while away the hours. "Those are new."

"My reading corner," her mother replied, astute eyes reading the tension in her daughter’s body. As if that weren’t enough of an indicator, the eyes were a dead giveaway, turning a dark, turbulent gray when Jamie was upset. "Want some iced tea?"

"Sure."

They stepped back into the cheerful little house, the scent of lemon wax mixing with that of freshly cut flowers. Jamie fol owed her mother to the back where the kitchen looked out over a neat yard. She perched herself on one of the stools that sat by a large breakfast nook, and silently watched her mother efficiently pour them each a glass of iced tea from a pitcher.

Her mother turned and caught the quiet interest. "Honey, what is it?"

Jamie smiled rueful y. I never could keep anything from her. Except for that one terrible secret that had, when exposed to the light of day, destroyed her family. "Have you seen the news lately?"

Her mother chuckled. "Never. I refuse to watch anything that wil depress me." She took her glass and started walking back to the front. "Let’s go sit on the porch."

Jamie fol owed slowly, feeling the tightness in her chest. Her mother patted the flowered cushion beside her and Jamie settled there, a familiar scent drifting toward her. She always smel s of lemon and something soft. That smel evoked everything that was good about her childhood. Her mother put an arm around her shoulders, and they sat quietly for a moment.

"I’m working on a new case."

Her mother stayed silent, knowing Jamie would reveal what was bothering her in her own good time.

"A murder." Jamie took her mother’s hand in her own, feeling the strength and the fragility in equal measure. "The Chief Justice was kil ed last Thursday."

Even now she could not bring herself to cal him dad. She felt the stil ness in her mother’s body, the brief tightening of her hand. Felt the slight shudder that then fol owed. She looked at her mother who stared out into the distance, her face pensive.

"Funny, for years I did wish him harm. But in time, that wish dul ed as I tried to focus on the good."

Jamie stroked her hand. "I’m sorry, Mom." Sorry for destroying your life, sorry for destroying the il usion, she thought but did not voice.

"Sorry?" Her mother turned to her. "Oh, honey, don’t." Her hand cupped the trembling chin and she lifted Jamie’s face to look deep into her eyes. "You are my angel. Having you was the good that I kept remembering. I stopped hating him a long time ago. The man is dead, and I’m sorry that he died by someone’s hand." She settled her hands in her lap with a sigh. "Truth be told, though, I’m not sorry he is dead."

"Neither am I."

"Wil you tel Emma, or do you want me to?" her mother asked, referring to Jamie’s sister.

"I wil ." Jamie leaned her head against her mother’s shoulder as she had when she was a child, and felt the soft stroking of her mother’s hand on her head. They sat quietly, each lost in thought. "I love you, Mom."

"And I love you."

CHAPTER SIX

"Daddy?"

"Hush, Sweet Pea. You don’t want to wake your sister." She felt his hands on the front of her pajama bottom. "Remember the game I taught you?"

"But, Daddy..."

"Shhh...Be a good girl."

"Daddy, it hurts..."

Jamie bolted up, a scream dying on her lips. Disoriented, her eyes frantical y searched the dark room and she slowly clued in to the dream. She shoved a trembling hand through her tousled hair as she gulped in air. It had been years since she had been visited by those images. She rubbed a hand over her face and felt the wetness. She glanced at the clock beside the table. 3 a.m. The silence pressed down on her and she felt the panic spread through her body. I’m safe. I’m safe, she kept repeating to herself. After a brief hesitation, her hand reached out for the telephone.

"What?" the grumpy voiced answered on the seventh ring.

"Darcy? It’s Jamie."

There was a pause. "James, this is starting to be a bad habit." The growl deepened.

"I’m sorry." Then a thought dawned on Jamie. "Oh. Darcy, Are you alone?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Not that it’s any of your damn business." The grumpy tone almost made Jamie smile.

"Can I come over?"

Something in Jamie’s tone alerted Darcy, who sat up, pushing the tangled waves from her face, immediately concerned. "What’s wrong?"

"I don’t want to be alone."

The pause was longer as Darcy absorbed the quiet words. "Honey, are the demons back?"

Jamie swal owed hard, trying not to cry. "Kind of."

"I’l leave the back door open."

"Thanks, Darcy."

"Forget it. I was just sleeping. Alone."

Jamie hung up then stood up on trembling legs. Darcy was the only one of her friends who knew any part of the sordid story. Years before, after too many glasses of wine, she had stayed overnight and had been awakened by Jamie’s screams. As Darcy held her, a sobbing Jamie had told her about the nightmares that came and went. It had al come tumbling out in a rush of words as if it had been too long held back: the secrets; the waiting for the sound of footsteps outside the bedroom door, the horrific visits in the middle of the night, as her sister lay sleeping in the bed next to hers, until the night when Jamie had woken up and heard her sister crying. Even at eight years of age, she had known then that her father had been visiting both of them. To protect her sister, she had gone to her mother the next day and told her everything. She had been eight years old and even now, thirty years later, she could recal the look on her mother’s face: the shock, the disbelief, the pain. And she had been the one to cause it; it had been her fault.

Over the years, whenever the screaming in Jamie’s head got too loud, Darcy had always been there - non-judgmental, dropping everything to be with her when needed, - as the nightmares appeared with less and less frequency. Jamie couldn’t remember the last time she’d had one. Until tonight.

She got to Darcy’s and let herself in. Darcy had turned on al the lights and was now in the kitchen, getting the Scotch ready. She had hastily pul ed on a navy robe to cover her nakedness. The thick auburn hair, which she usual y wore up or tied back, fel in a wild mass of curls down to the middle of her back. Seeing Darcy standing in the kitchen looking sleep tousled and grumpy, Jamie was struck with the realization that her friend was stunning. It was an unusual thought to be having at that particular moment, but the only one she flashed to.

Darcy had always worn her sexuality comfortably, at ease with it. It was just genetics after al , she often said when complimented. She rarely considered her effect on people. And over the years, neither had Jamie. But when she let her hair down - both figuratively and literal y- the impact was powerful. And for a moment, Jamie felt it…shivered with it. Darcy looked at Jamie, the look in her blue eyes quiet. Without a word, she handed her a tumbler.

"I’ve got a fire going in the other room." That was al she said as she crossed into the living room. Jamie was grateful for the matter-of-fact tone as she fol owed. Darcy settled her long form onto the brown leather couch, then raised a brow at Jamie. With a quiet smile, Jamie crossed to her and settled beside her. Darcy wrapped her arms around her and Jamie relaxed into her embrace as they sat watching the fire as it hissed in the grate.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The question was asked softly.

Jamie sighed. "Same nightmare. It’s been a long time."

"What brought it on, do you think?"

The hesitation was brief. "He died. It brought back a lot of stuff I thought had been dealt with, I guess."

"You have dealt with it, James, to a certain extent." For a while they watched the flames flicker and take shapes in front of them, comfortable in the silence.

Jamie smiled as she felt Darcy’s hand caress her hair, the touch soothing. She relaxed further into her arms, inhaling her scent, which had, over the years, become as familiar as her own.

"Why do you suppose we never got together?" Jamie suddenly asked, the thought coming to her out of the blue.

The question startled Darcy and she took time to think about it. "I dunno. Maybe because relationships often come and go, but true friendships can last a lifetime." Darcy looked at her, the look in her blue eyes unfathomable as she studied the attractive blonde. "I guess I’d rather have you in my life for a lifetime."

Having expected a flippant remark more in keeping with Darcy’s nature, Jamie stared at her, unexpectedly touched. "You sometime surprise me, Darcy."

Jamie’s smile was tender.

Hiding her sudden embarrassment, Darcy grinned. "Don’t get used to it."

Jamie settled back into the strong arms. A feeling, soft and sweet, stole over her as she felt Darcy’s arms tighten around her. Safe. I’m safe here.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Attorney Ken Landry arrived looking flushed, rushed, and apologetic. He was stil wearing his tennis whites. "I’m sorry, Shane. I was into a second set when I got your page. I got here as soon as I could. What’s this about?"

Landry had a solid reputation and an excel ent track record as an attorney. Rarer than that, he was known as a man of unimpeachable integrity. Alex wondered how he knew Shane Scott. She nodded at him in acknowledgment. "We have some additional questions we’d like to put to Judge Scott in connection with the murder of Chief Justice Reynolds."

Landry’s jaw dropped. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"Unfortunately, no, she’s not," Shane said dryly. "Thank you for coming, Ken. I’m terribly sorry for pul ing you away from your tennis game."

He waved that away and turned to Alex. "Can you explain how the hel things got to this point?"

"Certainly," Alex said calmly. "We have a witness who positively identified Miss Scott as being at the scene of the crime around the time of the murder.

"Excuse me?"

"How was she identified?"

"His description helped us create a sketch which was then identified as Miss Scott."

"Can I see this sketch?"

"Excuse me," he interrupted, turning to Shane. "You were interrogated prior to today?"

Landry looked at her for a long moment before he turned to Alex. "I insist on consulting with my client before this goes any further."

Alex had to smile at that. "Of course." She reached over and turned off the recorder before stepping outside, closely fol owed by Stacey.

***

Two can play at this game, she thought, pushing her frustration down. "Do col eagues see each other after work?"

"Did you at times do so?"

experience and the particular points of law being debated."

"Have you ever been to Judge Reynold’s residence?"

"Don’t answer that," her lawyer advised.

"I want to; I have nothing to hide. I have been at the suite that he kept at the Colonnade, as have most of my col eagues at one time or another."

Alex’s fingers tapped on her front teeth as she thought. In another room, Jamie, watching with Stacey, fought off the urge to pace. Instead she pushed her hands into the front pockets of her pants and fixed her eyes on Shane, trying to decipher something, anything from her body language.

"Would you al ow us to take a look at your phone records?"

This time Shane almost looked amused. "Not without a subpoena."

Alex nodded. She had expected as much. "You told us that on the night in question, you were walking around and ended up at a bar."

"Yes, that is what I said."

"You also said that you stayed there for a while, had a drink, then left." When Shane nodded, Alex asked, "Did you leave alone?"

As the judge hesitated, Ken Landry said, "Tel her to go to hel , Shane. If you don’t, I wil ."

"You heard my attorney’s advice, Detective." Alex couldn’t help but smile.

Ken stood up. "I’ve indulged this fishing expedition al I’m going to." He assisted Shane from her chair, politely, but in a way that brooked no arguments.

"Judge Scott deserves an apology for this. And if you so much as breathe her name to the media in connection with this case, you’l have a staggering lawsuit to deal with."

Alex looked down at her folder thoughtful y. "Oh, one more thing?" she asked without looking up.

Shane stopped in the doorway.

"Do you own a weapon?"

"Lots of things could be used as a weapon."

"The reason I’m asking is because the coroner’s report indicates that it was exactly as we thought - he didn’t die from a blow to the head, he died of a gun shot." It was a smal lie but Alex felt no qualms about tel ing it.

"He was shot?"

CHAPTER EIGHT

"I think it was genuine."

Stacey looked at Jamie. "Come on. Get real."

Jamie - who had watched the interview through a two-way mirror - glared at Stacey, then turned her attention to Alex. "It was the first and only time she showed any emotion or spontaneity. I think her surprise was authentic. Up to that time, she didn’t even know how he had died."

Stacey snorted.

Jamie turned on her. "What the hel is your problem?"

"I’ve got no problem, but I think you do."

"Excuse me?"

"You seem a bit quick to want to believe that our pretty judge is innocent."

Because that cut too close to the bone, Jamie erupted. "What the hel does that mean?"

"I saw you watching her through the whole thing. You could barely keep your eyes off of her. Be careful you are not thinking with some part of your body other than your brain."

Jamie’s face turned red with fury and she felt a vein throbbing in her forehead. She had taken a step towards Stacey when Alex stepped in and grabbed her arm.

"Easy."

Jamie angrily shook her hand off. "You have absolutely no clue. What I’m trying to do is make sure that we build a solid case here. You remember what the hel that is? I’m just making sure that we are not going off half cocked in our rush to find someone to pin this on. What the hel do we have? A witness who may or may not have seen her? Where is the motive, the physical evidence? Al I’m saying is let’s be thorough in our investigation and not simply decide ahead of time what the outcome should be." The last was a barb al uding to a previous case they had been involved in when Stacey had stopped an investigation before the evidence was fol owed to its conclusion. Her motivation had been painful y personal, and Stacey paled at her words. Alex, who had been directly involved in that investigation, stepped in to stop the argument before it progressed beyond words.

"Enough. Both of you knock it off," she snarled. "I’ve got better things to do than to play referee for a couple of immature know-it-al s." She glared at them, waiting to see some sign that they were listening. Satisfied, she turned to her friend. "I’m sort of agreeing with Jamie here. The main problem I have with her being a suspect is that she didn’t have an alibi."

Stacey threw a look at Jamie and then more calmly turned to Alex. "I’m confused. Are you thinking that by not having an alibi, she appears more innocent than if she did?"

Alex looked thoughtful. "Not necessarily. It just makes me wonder if she’s waiting to see how far this goes before springing an alibi on us."

"Like she’s holding one in reserve, just in case?"

"Something like that."

CHAPTER NINE

Tomas Reynolds’ wil stipulated that he be cremated. A memorial service had been scheduled, and the morning dawned bright and sunny. By ten o’clock, the Cathedral Church of St. Paul was packed to capacity. The famous and infamous were there, as were those who had come to gawk at the famous and infamous, including the current junior senator, the mayor, and the entire court of appeals.

Some had never met Judge Reynolds, but deemed themselves important enough to attend an important man’s funeral. Almost without exception, most of those in attendance had disparaged the deceased while he was alive. Nevertheless, they filed into the church, shaking their heads and mourning his tragic, untimely death. The altar overflowed with floral arrangements.

Outside, inconspicuous against one of the faux Greek pil ars, a police photographer was snapping shots of everyone who was in attendance. Often kil ers returned to the scene of the crime, or came to watch the mourners. Alex had decided to attend, in order to watch the crowd. Alex beside her, Jamie sat in the back of the church. As soon as they had entered, she’d caught sight of Shane sitting in the front, her head bowed as if she were praying.

Jamie tuned out the scripture readings and eulogies as she mul ed over the details of the case. The case. That was al it was to her. Her father’s death, his murder, was reduced to the level of an investigation. The pressure in her chest intensified. She looked across the packed church and was surprised to see her vision was blurred. She blinked as more tears came. How can I be crying for the bastard? Her hands clenched in her lap, and she felt the shudder that carried the grief through her body. Her fingers rubbed impatiently at the wetness on her cheeks, and she focused on the back of Shane’s golden head.

"Daddy, I’m afraid."

"Of what, sweet pea?"

"The monster. He’s in the closet."

"Don’t worry, honey. I’l take care of him." He walked over to the closet and opened the door and made al kinds of noise. "There. He’s gone."

She smiled at him. Her daddy would always protect her.

"Are you okay?" Alex asked, glancing at her as Jamie shifted restlessly beside her.

"I’m fine. See anything of interest?"

"No."

As the hymns rose al around her, Jamie started to panic, sweat breaking out along her spine. She took a breath and al of a sudden felt lightheaded. "I’m going to go check on things outside." Without looking at her, Alex nodded. Jamie squeezed past her and slipped out the back. Outside, she blinked into the bright sunshine and nodded once toward the uniforms slouching against the unmarked car that was parked along the curb. She stood stock stil trying to calm her jittery nerves. There was a faint breeze that carried the scent of something sweet. She barely felt it.

I’m losing it. Maybe I should make an appointment with my therapist. Jamie had stopped seeing her a few years before, when she thought she had done enough work on understanding herself to take a break. But now the hard won peace seemed to have evaporated. Being reduced to panic attacks in church was not a good sign. Her eyes caught a familiar car pul ing up to the front of the church. The red Mustang convertible had been a weakness and an extravagance that suited Darcy to a T. The auburn haired woman got out of the car, her impossibly long legs catching the attention of the officers in front.

She flashed Jamie a smile that had Jamie grinning back.

"What are you doing here?"

"Sure as hel not paying my respects." Darcy squinted into the sun. "Alex told me about the funeral, and I thought I would come by just to make sure he was dead."

The remark was so outrageous that Jamie stared at her for a moment open-mouthed. Darcy looked back at her, her mouth curving. Jamie started to laugh and it felt good. She leaned her head briefly on Darcy’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar spicy scent. "I’m so glad you came. I think I was in the middle of a ful fledged panic attack in there."

"How are you now?"

Jamie stared at her ful y, something moving in the depths of her eyes. "Better."

Years before, she had stopped questioning why being with Darcy made her feel protected. It just did. But on this afternoon the thought crossed her mind again. Her eyes studied the smooth profile, the ful unsmiling mouth of the woman beside her and she felt the flutters bouncing in her stomach that for her usual y signaled attraction. Surely not this time. She shifted, trying to quel the rising feeling. "Listen, I..."

Whatever she was about to say was lost when the church bel s started to peal. The service was over. She glanced back at the oak doors and swore silently. Darcy looked at her. "What were you going to say?"

The moment had passed. "Nothing important." The doors swung open with a dul thud, and the crowd started to spil out of the church. Jamie sighed. "I have to go." She glanced at Darcy, who was smiling at the gawking officers. "Don’t toy with them."

Darcy grinned at her and shrugged. "Habit."

Jamie shook her head and turned to leave, but stopped. "Can I come over later?"

An eyebrow lifted in surprise. "Why would you even ask that? You always come over."

Jamie’s smile was tentative. "I mean after you finish work."

Darcy froze as she met the gray eyes. Something tangled in her stomach but let go before she could name it. "Sure. I’m not closing tonight, so come by anytime."

"No hot date then?"

That stopped Darcy as she tried to remember the last time she had had a date.

"Fuck, I guess I’m going through a dry spel ." They both laughed at that.

Jamie impulsively kissed her on the cheek, tempted for one brief moment to lean closer. She pul ed back reluctantly. "I’l be over later."

***

When Jamie arrived at the café, Darcy was leaning against the oak bar flirting with a pretty brunette in a very short skirt. The auburn haired woman had changed into faded jeans and a loose charcoal gray sweater, her hair tied back carelessly and she looked casual y sexy. For some unfathomable reason, this irritated Jamie. Darcy turned and flashed a quick grin in her direction but her grin faded at the look on Jamie’s face.

"Are you okay?"

"Just edgy."

"Want a drink?"

"Not real y." Jamie shifted, unable to put words to what she was feeling.

Darcy leaned over and whispered something to the brunette, who laughed and nodded. Stil smiling, Darcy turned and caught Jamie’s intent look.

"What?"

"A new prospect?" There was an edge in her tone that had Darcy looking at her curiously.

"As a matter of fact no. Natalie is engaged to Bil y and is just kil ing time until his shift is over." Bil y was one of her pretty boy bartenders. Now feeling foolish, Jamie frowned, rubbing an impatient hand along the back of her neck. What the hel is wrong with me?

"She lets me practice my lines, on her though," Darcy added with a grin.

Jamie shook her head. "You don’t need any practice, Stretch. Believe me, you’re dangerous enough."

Darcy studied her for a moment. Something didn’t feel right. Almost like a note that was off-key. "James, let’s go for a walk."

Bundled into jackets against the cool evening air, they started walking without any particular direction, gazing into windows, reading the menus plastered on entryways. As they passed a roadhouse the tantalizing smel of mesquite floated past them. Music drifted from a bar across the street. The sidewalks were alive with people walking home from a movie, from late business, from a visit to friends. A subway train rumbled underground. Taxis were coming back from the theaters, traveling to little clubs on the side streets. Jamie took a deep breath and slowly eased it through her body. She needed this, this aimless drifting that al owed her to empty her mind and just concentrate on the noises and smel s around her. There were almost no stars in the dark inky sky. As they continued walking, their footsteps echoed softly on the pavement. They didn’t say anything, felt no need for words. The silence between them was easy. They crossed at a traffic light and as they got to the other side Darcy grabbed Jamie’s hand and held it as they continued walking. Jamie shot her a quick glance but Darcy’s attention was on one of the displays in an antique shop. Jamie’s fingers curled against her hand and she let Darcy lead her as they resumed walking. Darcy grinned when a woman in a tight blue running suit ran past and shot the auburn beauty a quick look. The look was subtle but effective. Darcy was more amused than interested. She felt the sudden tension in Jamie’s hand and turned her eyes to her. Jamie was glaring after the jogger with what looked like annoyance.

"Jamie?" Curious once again at the mixed signals she was sensing, Darcy stopped walking and released Jamie’s hand. "Is everything okay? Do you want to talk?"

Jamie didn’t understand why she suddenly felt so resentful of the attention Darcy was getting. No, resentful was the wrong word. I feel...Puzzled, she stared at Darcy, then it hit her with a sudden stabbing clarity. Jealous? I’m jealous? She forced a smile. "It was just a bad day, Darcy. I’m feeling off. That’s al ."

Jamie started to walk again and Darcy fol owed. But the air between them had shifted once again and Darcy puzzled over the undercurrents that pul ed at her. Then her eyes caught a green and orange neon sign that was as colorful as Christmas lights and she stopped, delighted. "Mario’s. I forgot he was stil here. We have to stop. Tonight cal s for a hot chocolate." She grabbed Jamie’s hand again and pul ed her to the pastry shop with the gaudy window displays. "Wait here."

She went in, leaving Jamie standing outside the door, lost in thought as she watched the traffic go by. A few minutes later she returned and handed a cup to Jamie while she held another. It was overflowing with whip cream.

"I ordered extra whip. This is guaranteed to improve any mood," she told Jamie with a grin. Then her pink tongue slowly licked the foam from the top of her cup. Fascinated by the movement, Jamie stared at her, unable to look away. Becoming aware of the stare, Darcy stopped and lifted her eyes questioningly. The look in Jamie’s eyes had Darcy’s heart lurching against her ribcage. They held the look until Jamie abruptly broke it to take a sip.

"This is too sinful to be having on a weeknight," Jamie injected into the charged air.

I probably misread the look, Darcy thought. She forced a smile. "I know. Decadent isn’t it?"

"I’l have to run an extra 10 miles tomorrow, but it might just be worth it." Jamie took another sip, her eyes closing with pleasure.

Darcy grinned. "A taste of heaven." Her thumb reached out and slowly stroked Jamie’s upper lip. "You’ve got foam al over the place." Jamie went very stil at the feel of her finger against her mouth and for one crazy moment, she was tempted to seek more. She blinked once as her eyes focused first on Darcy’s mouth, then lifted to the waiting blue. Darcy looked at her, unsmiling, and Jamie read the awareness in the blue eyes, an acknowledgment that the temptation was somehow mutual. Jamie’s mouth curved in response. Then they broke contact almost simultaneously.

They resumed their walk. Whatever it was had passed, and the fleeting moment was filed away to think about later. But as Darcy’s hand took hers once again for the walk back, Jamie smiled to herself. Despite the difficult day, the last couple of hours had evaporated her tension, replaced it with a different kind. The kind that left you breathless and in knots. And Jamie had no doubt that the reason for it was the woman walking beside her. Once again Darcy had made the bad things better. She glanced at her friend as they approached the café. Without thinking about it, Jamie reached over and pushed a strand of hair that the wind had tossed and toyed with behind Darcy’s ear. Darcy’s head turned toward her as they stopped at her front door. "Want to come up?" It was said softly. The question was simple, the meaning unclear. And Jamie’s need was huge. Shaking her head Jamie sighed. "No, it’s best that I don’t." She leaned over and kissed Darcy on the cheek. "Good night, Stretch."

CHAPTER TEN

Jamie studied the autopsy report thoughtful y. "So, he had a stroke."

Alex nodded. "That could explain the wound on his head. He was sitting there having a drink, stood up, and then keeled over - hitting his head on the floor.

Remember, it was only after he was already down that he got popped. Whoever it was, was trying to make sure he was dead."

Jamie started to pace. "This changes the complexion of things. This may no longer be murder, but rather attempted murder. The timing between his stroke and his being shot might be too close to ever know for sure."

Alex agreed but felt they should err on the side of caution. "It can’t change our investigation. At the very least we have attempted murder. I have to proceed under the assumption that he was murdered. As long as we have evidence of foul play, I have to continue the investigation. I’m waiting on the rest of the CSA’s findings. They found two other sets of fingerprints and a strand of hair that was patently not Reynolds’." The door opened and an assistant walked in with a folder. "Speaking of the devil…"

"The tests results are in," he announced unnecessarily, handing Alex the folder.

"Wel , wel ...wel . It appears that our star suspect has not been tel ing the truth after al ." She smiled.

Jamie felt sick inside, and turned away. Whatever relief she had initial y felt at Alex’s statement about the stroke was evaporating as she watched the cool blue eyes of her friend narrow on the folder.

"I wil ask Judge Scott to come in for further questioning."

The trap was being set. Jamie could sense it as she looked at her confident friend. I need to get out of here.

Shane was immediately on her guard as Alex ushered her into the room. It was there in the quiet manner, in the faint amusement. Confidence.

"I wil ask you one more time - and I would suggest you think careful y before answering: were you in Judge Reynolds’ suite the night in question?"

Shane tried not to look at Jamie but could not help herself. Their eyes met and she felt the impact of those gray eyes like a physical touch. Her mouth parted, almost as if she were out of breath.

"Don’t answer that," her lawyer cautioned.

"I don’t mind. I have nothing to hide. No, I was not in his hotel room on the night in question."

Alex nodded. She had expected the denial. She flipped through her notes. "Then how would you explain your fingerprints inside the room? Wel ?"

"Wel , what, Detective?"

"You lied to us, didn’t you, Miss Scott?"

"Don’t answer, Shane," Landry instructed.

"I want to, Ken."

"I strongly urge you not to say anything."

"But I want to answer." She turned her attention to Alex.

Their eyes met and Alex felt the impact of her presence. She real y was an attractive woman. But there was something more in her eyes, something haunted and almost calculating as they stared back at her. Alex’s eyes narrowed, curious about the possible cause.

"I did not lie, Detective. You asked me if I was in Judge Reynolds’ suite the night of his murder, and I was not. But I have been in the suite on previous occasions working on a case."

She’s clever, Alex thought with grudging respect. "Wel , that’s convenient, isn’t it?"

Shane did not miss the sarcasm in the detective’s tone.

"When were you in his suite?"

"A few days prior to his death. We were working on a death penalty case and I dropped some opinions over."

"I see." Alex rubbed her lower lip thoughtful y, then her eyes strayed to Jamie and she was jolted by the look on Jamie’s face. She studied her best friend, trying to understand what her instincts were tel ing her. As if aware of the scrutiny, Jamie stood and moved out of her field of vision. Alex turned back to the woman beside her. "It’s interesting that you seem to have a prepared answer for everything."

"Is that question?" Landry asked testily.

"Just an observation. I guess that is al for now." Alex watched them leave thoughtful y, then glanced at Jamie. "Something doesn’t feel right."

Jamie tensed. "What doesn’t?"

Alex stood up. "Her whole demeanor, her whole story. It just doesn’t add up."

Jamie frowned. "It doesn’t not add up, either."

"That’s just it."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Rain dripped from the leaves in steady musical plops, and the air shimmered with the weight the storm had left behind. The day was leaking into dusk as Jamie leaned against the tree and stared at the windows of the brownstone. When a light came on in an upstairs room, she pushed upright, her mind made up.

Shane stepped out of the shower and as her hand reached out for a towel, her eyes caught the shadow in the doorway. She swal owed the scream that lodged in her throat and her heart lurched violently. Without a word, Jamie turned and stepped back into the hal way and waited. Shane hastily pul ed on a robe and fol owed her, pushing the tousled, wet hair back from her face. A pulse beat nervously at the base of her neck.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"That’s not a good idea. We shouldn’t be speaking."

"I am aware of that. Nevertheless…" She shrugged.

"How did you get in?"

"I broke in."

Shane’s eyes widened.

Jamie turned and al owed herself to real y look at the beautiful woman. Her eyes turned dark with barely suppressed need, and she couldn’t control her body’s reaction to her presence. She felt her anger rise at that realization as she fought to keep her mind on what had to be done. "Did you know who I was when you walked into Murphy’s that night?"

"No, I…" The hesitation, though brief, was not lost on Jamie.

Her hand slammed against the wal startling Shane, who jumped nervously. "Don’t lie to me, goddammit. Don’t you lie to me. Did you know who I was?"

"No, I swear," she replied. Shane’s eyes fixed on the officer hungrily, Jamie’s nearness making her body ache.

"But you recognized me somehow. Where? Where did you recognize me from?"

The hesitation this time was more pronounced. "I didn’t. I don’t..."

Desperation settling over her, Jamie grabbed Shane. "What are you hiding? I know you’re hiding something. Why didn’t you say anything about me when you were first questioned?"

"Why didn’t you?" Shane chal enged back.

Shane had her there. "I know you are lying," Jamie added softly, almost to herself. "Except I can’t figure out about what. Did you kil the Justice, Shane?"

She shook her slightly. "No." She struggled against the firm hold, her robe slipping dangerously low.

Jamie shook her head. "You knew who I was when you walked into that bar. You made sure I would see you, making enough commotion to get my attention. Why? Was it a set up?" She leaned closer. "Tel me, your Honor? What are you hiding? Were you his lover?"

"What?"

"Were you fucking the Chief Justice?"

The recoil was almost physical. "Go to hel ." Shane pul ed away.

"Thanks anyway. I’ve been there since I first laid eyes on you." The bitterness slashed at Shane.

"Don’t…" Shane whispered, a pleading look in her eyes.

"That’s not what you said when you came the first time. Or was it the second time?"

The golden-haired woman shook her head. "Jamie, please leave. Don’t ask me anything else. Don’t put me in the position of having to lie to you."

"That’s a joke. You’ve been lying since I met you. Look at me and tel me you didn’t come after me that day."

Shane stared at her. "I didn’t. Not real y…"

"Not real y." Jamie’s fists clenched by her side; she wanted to release the unbearable pressure by punching something. Control ing the impulse, she swore as she pivoted away, but she was unable to turn away from Shane for long. Fighting against the wave of helplessness that was rising in her, she turned back. "What else have you lied about?"

"I haven’t…"

Jamie stepped closer and, unaware of her action, her thumb rubbed Shane’s lower lip almost absentmindedly. "So beautiful. You lie so beautiful y."

"I’m not lying, Jamie…"

"You played me so wel . Why?" Her thumb parted the ful lips. "Why did you come home with me?"

Buried in the question was a plea that cal ed to Shane. Shane closed her eyes, fighting the arousal spreading through her body. She opened heavy lids.

"For this. Just for this." She groaned as she reached up and pressed her mouth to Jamie’s.

At the feel of Shane’s mouth, Jamie lost it. With an oath, her tongue thrust deep in response and she pushed Shane against the wal , her firm thigh pressing between bare legs. Hard hands parted the loose robe and Jamie was steeped in the remembered scent and feel of her body.

Shane’s hips began to pump and move against the jeans clad leg, need pouring through her. "Oh God, Jamie, touch me. Please." Shane’s hands grabbed and pul ed Jamie’s shirt from her pants, greedy hands finding and stroking the damp skin, the ful breasts; fingers squeezing the hard nipples.

"Damn you. Damn you," Jamie snarled as she moved against her, feeling the pressure build. Her fingers entered Shane without any gentleness and found her wet and ready. It was primal and angry, but they were both lost in the sensations, too far gone to notice.

Shane bucked against Jamie’s fingers, knowing she was about to come, too wrapped up in the incredible feeling pulsing through her to stop it. "Yes, yes.

Faster." Shane shoved against her hand, and when the climax came it was fast and sharp and had her crying out loud as her hands tightened on Jamie’s back.

Jamie closed her eyes and let her mind empty as she rode the firm thigh, her teeth biting down on Shane’s neck as the climax slammed into her.

They leaned against each other half supporting one another as they tried to catch their breath. Jamie took a shuddering, gulping breath. She was disgusted with herself, with her lack of control. She felt undone by the madness of being so close to the judge again. She opened her eyes to look at Shane, and shook her head as if to clear it. "I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Shane; I shouldn’t have… Did I hurt you?"

Shane opened her eyes and a trembling hand gently brushed Jamie’s blond hair from her forehead. "Jamie, you have to believe that it’s never been like this with anyone," she whispered.

Jamie sighed. "God help me. You’re so lovely, Shane. Every time I see you it’s like the first time. The light is different, the angle, but it strikes me just as it did the first time." Jamie looked at her. "Shane, tel me what you are hiding. I know there’s something. Maybe I can help you."

Shane straightened and pushed her away, giving her a long, level look. "You have to go. You can’t be seen here."

Desperation spread through Jamie. "Shane, was there something between you and the judge? Was he threatening you in some way?" Jamie felt rather than saw Shane’s sudden tension.

"I’m sorry. Just go, Jamie."

Resigned, frustrated, Jamie walked to the door but hesitated as she turned. "You are going to have to come clean about what you know one of these days." With a last look, she closed the door.

***

Distracted, Jamie never saw the shadowy figure until the last minute, and only her training and sharp reflexes enabled her to deflect the blow at the last moment.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Have you lost your mind?" Alex shouted as she shoved Jamie against her car.

Jamie struggled against her hold. "Let me go."

"Shut up." Alex pushed her inside, then went around the car and got into the driver’s side, slamming the door with barely restrained violence. "What the hel are you doing at our suspect’s house in the middle of the night?"

"What are you doing fol owing me?" Jamie asked, ignoring the question.

Alex slammed a fist against the steering wheel. "I wasn’t, you fool. I was watching our suspect to see where she goes at night. Imagine my surprise when I saw you going in, hoping like hel that I was mistaken. Are you fucking crazy?"

"Possibly."

"What were you doing in there?"

Jamie looked at her and shook her head. She was sure Alex would never understand, especial y since she herself did not. "Nothing."

Alex swore as she shoved an impatient hand through her short dark hair. "Jamie, you better start leveling with me, ’cause I’m not in the mood to play guessing games right now. I’m this close to kicking your ass from here to New York City and back. Now start talking. Do you know this woman?"

"No. Not real y."

"Not real y?" Alex whipped her head around to stare at her, blue eyes accusing. "Spil it."

Jamie looked out of the window. She could stil feel Shane’s imprint on her body. "I just...I just wanted to talk to her."

"Why?"

"Because. I was trying to get at the truth."

"Truth? Truth about what? You do know her don’t you?"

Jamie shrugged. "We had a one-night stand." Her shoulders hunched defensively and she could not meet the stunned blue eyes.

Alex swore loudly. "I knew something felt odd. When? Why didn’t you say anything?"

"At the time, it didn’t seem important."

Alex stared at friend as if seeing her for the first time. So many thoughts flitted through her mind that for a moment she was speechless. She took a deep breath, fighting off the urge to snap something in two. "Wel , now it is. You are jeopardizing our investigation, your career, possibly mine. For what? Are you wil ing to put yourself on the line for someone you don’t even know?"

Alex was right. Everything she said made sense. Stil , Jamie couldn’t help it. She was wrapped in a sexual haze and it flowed through her veins as addictive as any drug. "Yeah, I’m wil ing to put it al on the line."

"For a quick fuck?"

Jamie turned to her and her eyes were dark and shadowy. "Alex, I can’t explain it. It just feels so..." She shook her head, unable to find the words that would describe being so out of control.

Alex looked at her, torn between her love for her and her duty as a police officer. Jamie was her best friend and they had been through so much over the years. Jamie had been there for her when she needed her. But now she was being asked to obstruct justice. The damn fool. Frustrated love flooded through her. She shook her head, taking hold of Jamie’s arm. "I want you off this case. Now. And I want you to promise to stay away from our suspect."

Jamie pushed away from her. "I can’t do that. I need to see this through."

"Then you are crazier than I am. I am going to ask that you be taken off this case. For your own sake."

"Do what you have to do, Alex. But I’l do what I have to do." She slammed out of the car.

Alex punched the dashboard in frustration and sat staring into the darkness. "Goddammit!"

***

Fol owing the confrontation with Alex, Jamie drove around for hours, unsettled. The fact that she could not think rational y about this case, about this woman, scared her. Somehow, it had al gone off the rails. She real y didn’t know what she was going to do. How am I supposed to handle this? I need to talk to someone. Someone who can be objective. Ordinarily she would have talked to Alex, but under the circumstances that was out of the question. She thought of Darcy, but she had already imposed on her enough. And thinking of Darcy had her stomach jumping for reasons she was determined not to explore too closely. Lauren. I can go to Lauren. Their friendship had the ease of old friends where weeks could go by without speaking to one another, and then al of a sudden they would reconnect, as if no time had passed at al .

Lauren looked surprised when she opened the door. It was unusual for Jamie to show up unannounced, but a quick glance discerned the misery on her face. "Are you going to just stand there in my doorway, or do you want to come in?"

"Yes…no..." Jamie shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Okay, why don’t I help you decide?" Lauren smiled gently and took her hand to pul her inside. "Want a beer?"

"I...I don’t know." Jamie pushed an impatient hand through her already tousled hair. The trembling in her fingers was not lost on Lauren, who hid her concern with a practical shrug.

"Wel , I’m having one. I’l get you one just in case." Fol owed by Jamie, she went to the kitchen, retrieved two beers, and placed a bottle in front of her friend. Jamie stood undecided, lost.

"Jamie, what is it? What’s got you so twisted?"

Jamie met the golden eyes of her friend. They had been friends since col ege, and for years Jamie had been half in love with her. Too scared to tel Lauren about it, she had buried it. The feelings had eased over the years, especial y after Lauren had fal en head over heels in love with Madison, another of Jamie’s close friends. Now they were closer than ever, settling into an easy friendship with few demands. But Jamie would always have a tender spot for Lauren. She sighed. "A woman."

Lauren hid a smile. That answer had been almost predictable. "You met someone?"

"Yes…no."

Lauren lifted a brow. "You didn’t meet someone?"

"I kind of did, but not in the normal sense." There was a pause. "That didn’t come out right."

"Real y?" Lauren replied dryly.

Jamie shot her a look and sat down, placing her elbows on the table. "I met someone a couple of weeks ago. It was the most unbelievable night of my life.

Then the next morning, she was gone. And that was that. Except its not, and she’s back, and I’m in the middle of something that’s just... She’s..."Jamie rubbed her eyes. "It’s complicated. I can’t discuss it." And my friendship with Alex is in jeopardy, she thought, but did not voice aloud.

Hiding her worry, Lauren crossed to Jamie and wrapped her arms around her.

"Lauren, this is not what I had planned for. She’s not what I was looking for. It’s so..."

"Lauren, this is not what I had planned for. She’s not what I was looking for. It’s so..."

"Life’s ful of surprises, isn’t it? Some of them are a real kick in the ass," Lauren replied, not unsympathetical y. "I’l tel you something Madison once told me. In life you can’t keep sitting on the sidelines placing little side bets on what the outcome is going to be. You have to play the game; ’cause if you don’t play, you can’t win."

Jamie looked at her. "Madison said that?"

Lauren smiled. "Yeah."

"Wel , Madison is an idiot."

Lauren started to laugh and her amusement escalated when she met the puzzled eyes of her lover in the doorway.

"Should I be jealous?" Madison stood in the doorway, having come in during the last part of their talk. Dressed in a charcoal gray suit, her dark hair slicked back, she looked cool and delectable to Lauren.

"Absolutely. Jamie’s the only other woman besides you that has my heart." She kissed the top of Jamie’s blond head, and with a last gentle rub of her back, stepped back to greet Madison. Her stomach did the usual flip as she kissed her, lingering for a moment.

"Hey."

"Hey back." Pul ing away reluctantly, Madison slapped a friendly hand on Jamie’s back. "Hel o, stranger. Haven’t seen you in weeks. How are you?"

"Just busy. Just dropped by to see if I could talk Lauren into running away with me." Jamie stood up. "She’s not ready quite yet."

Madison grinned as she crossed to the refrigerator to grab a beer. "Give it time. I’m stil not picking the towels up off the floor after a shower." She met the golden eyes of her lover and smiled. Lauren gave an amused shake of her head.

Jamie kissed Lauren. "I should go. Thanks for the beer." She nodded toward where it stil sat untouched on the table. A quick hug for Madison, and she was gone.

Madison turned to her girlfriend. "What’s wrong with her?"

"A woman." Lauren stil looked troubled. "I’ve never seen her scared before, but I’d swear that she is now."

Madison frowned. "She’s scared? Of what? This woman?"

"I don’t know." They exchanged looks. Jamie was and had always been the steadiest of them al , the one you counted on when things got out of control. It was as unsettling as it was unusual to believe that for once Jamie was in need of their help.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jamie pushed open the torn screen door and stopped in the entrance, assaulted as soon as she entered by the smel of cigarette smoke, spit beer, and countless other odors it was best not to try and identify. Her feet immediately stuck to the floor, and she tried not to think about what kind of substances were spilt on the worn wood floor. Her eyes stung as they narrowed against the thick smoke that seemed to hang permanently above them.

Directly in front, the regulars were glued to wobbly stools wrapped around a large oak bar that might at some time have looked impressive. Some kept one eye on whatever sport was playing on the old television set on a platform above them in the corner of the bar. The set had colors that were washed out and the picture was blurry, but it didn’t seem to matter. On the left, a pool table took up most of the space, and four men nursing their beers interrupted their game to watch her with interest. Jamie squinted and tried to see through the thick blue haze. She found him sitting in his usual spot by the jukebox.

"No. No way."

"Hel o, Barney."

The short balding man scowled at Jamie. "Whatever it is, Saunders, I didn’t do it."

Jamie smiled at him, unperturbed. "Barney, sit. I’l buy you a beer."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Shit, you got that look on your face."

"What look?"

"The one that says I’m not going to like what you have to say." He sat down and rubbed nicotine stained fingers over his bald head. "Make it a pint."

Jamie grinned and motioned to the waitress for two. She watched her unwil ing companion until the waitress placed the glasses down in front of them with a thud and he took a sip. "Watcha been doing lately, Barney?"

He nervously licked his fleshy lips. "Come on. Let me enjoy my beer before springing whatever you’ve got."

Jamie laughed at his woebegone look. She had always liked him, even when she knew he was skimming from the snitch fund to pay for his gambling tabs. He had been a good investigator once, but alcohol and gambling weaknesses had caught up to him. She had used his investigative talents more than once. Sober, he was one of the best. Even half tanked he would put a lot of the rookies to shame. "I need a favor," she started.

He sighed. "Here it comes. And since you are alone, I’m not going to like it."

"I need you to do a deep background on a possible suspect we’ve got."

"Do we want him guilty or not?"

Jamie rubbed her chin. "I’m not sure. And it’s not a he." He raised a brow as she handed him a smal slip of paper. "Her name is Shane Scott. She’s a judge. We think she might know something about the death of the Chief Justice."

"Jesus fucking Christ. A judge?" He dropped the slip of paper as if burned. "No way."

She calmly picked up her glass and sipped her beer as he continued his eruption. After he’d finished, his pale blue eyes fixed on her. "Must be serious if you’ve come looking for me to do the research."

Jamie shrugged, trying for nonchalance. "There is some noise."

He nodded. "Where’s Ryan?" he asked, referring to Alex.

"She’s working it from another angle. Keep her out of this one."

He nodded, but there was speculation in his look. "You’re not acting with lust in your heart, are you, Detective?"

She threw him a cool look and stood up. "Just find out what you can. And fast." She strode out, leaving him smirking after her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Need a ride?"

Lost in thought, it took a moment for the words to register, then Jamie noticed Madison leaning out of the driver’s side of the parked car.

"Hey, Doc."

"I was in the neighborhood, thought I could buy you a cup of coffee."

Jamie’s eyes narrowed. "You wouldn’t happen to be checking up on me, now would you Doctor Wil iams?"

Madison’s face was the picture of innocence. "Never. Anyway, it’s either me or Darcy." Over the years, Darcy had been the only one that could get to Jamie. No one ever questioned it. Their entire circle of friends had long accepted it. It just was.

Jamie shook her head with a smile. "Put that way, how can I say no?" They drove to a smal coffee bar a few blocks away. Madison’s quick look had taken in the shadows like soft bruises under Jamie’s eyes, the lines that were deeper around her mouth. They grabbed a coffee and decided to strol along the little shops and art gal eries.

"You know, whenever your name comes up in front of Alex, she just grunts and walks away. Are you two fighting?"

Jamie glanced at her, then away. "Not exactly. We just had a difference of opinion."

Madison knew there was more. "About this woman you’re al twisted about?"

Jamie’s step faltered but she recovered quickly. "Where did you hear that?"

"Lauren."

Jamie swore silently.

"She’s worried about you, so am I. What’s going on? Who is this girl? Anyone we know?"

Jamie shoved a hand through her hair, not wanting to have this conversation. "No. I met her...by chance."

"What’s she like?" For the first time, Jamie looked at her ful y and smiled, but the look in her eyes made Madison’s heart lurched for her friend.

"She’s beautiful. Witty. And I hardly know anything about her."

Madison looked at her worried. "Jamie..."

Jamie dismissed her concern with a wave of her hand. "I know. It’s just hard to know what is sheer lust, and what could be more, because we haven’t had any chance to real y spend time together."

"Why?"

"It’s complicated."

"You keep saying that."

"I know. I just... I never thought I could catch someone’s eye that way. Someone so beautiful. I don’t know how to handle it."

Madison looked at her in surprise "You’re kidding me, right?"

Jamie frowned. "Why?"

Madison took her hand and they stopped for a moment. "You are beautiful, Jamie. You also happen to be the sexiest woman I know."

Startled, Jamie looked at her and, unable to stop, felt herself blush.

Madison grinned. "Are you blushing?"

"No."

"You are too. Oh my God! I made Saunders blush," she yel ed out.

The blush intensified. "Shut up."

Madison’s laugh was sharp and quick. "I gotta remember this the next time you give me grief about something."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

They sobered quickly.

"Is she married?"

"What?" Jamie looked at her. "No, it’s nothing like that." She sighed. "I just don’t know if I can trust her. I think she’s lying to me."

Madison frowned. "Jamie..."

"Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan."

"A plan?"

They had returned to the car. "Sure. I’ve got to go." She gave her friend a quick hug, then left before Madison could say anything else.

Madison stared after her, more worried than before. We’re gonna need the big guns, she thought. They would need to involve Darcy.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Alex sat lost in thought, her pen tapping against the folder open in front of her. Did they have enough to persuade a judge to give them a search warrant?

The tapping continued. Stacey, who had dropped by to get an update watched her, her exasperation growing with every second. Alex had mumbled no more than two words to her since her arrival and now, along with the tapping, looked distracted and uninterested in Stacey’s questions. "Should we wait for Jamie before going for the search warrant?" Stacey asked once again.

Alex stared out of the window thinking about the events of a couple of nights ago. Jamie and our suspect. How could she be so dumb? She thought angrily. How can she jeopardize everything for someone she doesn’t even know?

Stacey reached out and grabbed the bouncing pen from her hand. "For crying out loud Alex what is wrong with you today?"

Alex frowned at her. "What?"

"I’ve asked you the same question three times now. Do we have to wait for Jamie, or should we proceed with the warrant request?"

Alex sighed, her face set. "No, we don’t have to wait for her."

Stacey was about to ask where Jamie was when one look at Alex’s face warned her to drop the subject. Something had happened between the two of them. Instincts told her it was related to their case but she let it go for now.

"Okay, then let’s go talk to a judge."

***

Darcy looked over at Jamie again. She had been sitting at the bar for the better part of an hour looking glum. "You know, Saunders, that frown of yours is going to scare away al of my best customers."

Jamie continued to stare at her drink, brooding. "Sorry."

Darcy took a couple of shot glasses from the glass shelf behind her and placed them on the polished oak bar. She grabbed a bottle and poured a couple of shots, handing one to Jamie, who accepted it automatical y. Fol owing Darcy’s lead, Jamie tossed it back, grimacing at the heat that spread down her throat.

"Spil it," Darcy demanded.

"Spil what?"

"Whatever’s got you glowering at my bar, not appreciating my best stuff, worrying your friends...Name it." Darcy shrugged. "What’s up with you? Why are you and Alex fighting?"

"We are not fighting," Jamie said through clenched teeth. "Can’t a person have any secrets around here? What’s between Alex and me is between Alex and me."

Darcy nodded. "Sure. But for right now, you are sitting in my bar looking like you’ve just lost your best friend, so I’m entitled to demand answers. It’s one of those perks."

Jamie met the blue gaze. How come I’ve never noticed our dark her pupils are? she thought fascinated by Darcy’s eyes. Wasn’t it strange how smal the world could become if you looked into someone’s eyes? Why hadn’t she ever noticed that before? For a moment she felt like she was drowning in their depths, and visibly shook herself as she pul ed her mind back to what was being discussed. "I met someone."

That stopped Darcy, who stared at her, unsure about why she felt less than thril ed. "You did?"

"Yeah." Jamie placed her elbow on the bar and rubbed her upper lip with her right index finger. She didn’t look happy about it.

"Who is she?"

"A judge."

Darcy whistled, impressed. "Where did you meet her?"

There was a pause. "Here."

"Here?" Darcy frowned as their phone conversation came back to her. "Wait a minute, was that the girl you were cal ing me about the other morning?"

Jamie shrugged. "I didn’t know her last name then. I sort of took her home without getting that particular detail."

"You what?"

"I picked her up here and, wel , one thing led to another..." She shrugged, not meeting the suddenly intent blue eyes.

"That was a stupid thing to do." Darcy almost shouted it.

Jamie stared at her in surprise. "What?"

"You don’t just pick somebody up for the night."

"Are you kidding me with this? I mean, that’s rich coming from you. You’re the queen of one-night stands. In fact, it is like a religion with you." Jamie was livid. "Real y, Darcy, when was the last time you stuck around long enough to develop feelings for anybody?"

She had her there. Darcy couldn’t figure out why it was bothering her, but the thought of Jamie having anonymous sex was irritating her. The vague twinge in the pit of her stomach unsettled her, and she rubbed at the ache. "Never mind." She frowned, fighting down the urge to break something.

Jamie stared at her, feeling angry and defensive and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Of al of the people she’d thought would understand, she thought Darcy would. At the discovery that she didn’t, she felt an ache deep in her chest. Their eyes met, unsure of the undercurrents.

Jamie stood up, grabbing her jacket from the stool beside her. "Forget it. I’ve got to go. I’l see you around." She fled without another word.

Darcy stared at the closed door and frowned. She poured herself another shot and tossed it back, slamming the glass down. Aware of curious looks, she stalked back to the kitchen.

***

With a sinking sense of dread, Shane knew instantly that the police car parked in front of her house had nothing to do with burglary. Two uniformed policemen were flanking her front door. As she got out of her car, she noted that the scene was being played out in front of her interested neighbors. She glared at Alex who was chatting with another man. "What the hel are you doing here?"

"I have a search warrant." She produced the document from the inside pocket of her suit jacket.

"I’m cal ing Ken Landry."

Alex shrugged. "Be my guest. But we don’t need his permission to come inside. We don’t even need yours." Without further ado, she motioned her men forward.

Shane’s stomach twisted as she noticed the plastic gloves they were slipping on. As if she was contaminated. She couldn’t sit there and watch her home being invaded, so she got in her car and left. Then realized that she had nowhere to go, nowhere she could go and hide.

***

She found herself parked in front of Jamie’s house. Jamie watched her from the window for a while, and then went out to see her. "They are searching my house," Shane told her. Jamie frowned. She hadn’t known about it, but it had been inevitable. "I didn’t know where else to go."

Jamie sighed. She opened the driver’s side door. "Come on."

Shane fol owed Jamie into the living room, where her reluctant hostess offered, "Do you want a coffee?"

"Okay."

They sat facing each other as they drank their coffee. Jamie felt the pul of her presence, but fought against its effect on her body. Shane’s scent drifted over her, and she forced her attention to her coffee.

"What are they looking for?" Shane asked. Jamie shot her a look of disbelief, and Shane had to smile. "I know. This is awkward."

Jamie’s short laugh carried no humor. "Awkward? I’m not sure that’s how I would describe it. Fucked up is the term I would use."

"I wish..." Shane stopped. Wishes were for fools.

"You wish what?"

"I wish I could be alone with you just for a moment without any of this between us. I wish you could look at me and just see me," she finished with a faint smile.

"I did. The first night I saw you. Then you lied to me." Jamie shrugged.

Shane opened her mouth, but closed it as she met Jamie’s quiet look of rebuke. "This is nuts," she final y said.

"You won’t get any arguments from me on that."

"I should go." She stood up to leave, half expecting Jamie to stop her, but Jamie continued to study her without moving. Shane let herself out without another word.

When she heard the car drive off, Jamie stood up and pul ed a slip of paper from her pocket — a message that Barney wanted to see her. She knew what that meant. He had something. She felt fear lick at the edges of her soul. Instinct warned her that she was not going to like what he had found.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Darcy stayed angry for two days. She was unable to pinpoint her frustration, but her moodiness started to be noticed. By the weekend, Madison had had enough. "What’s got you so twisted, Stretch?"

"Huh?"

"You’re going around snapping at everybody and everything. You’re just not your usual rude self."

Darcy blew a breath. "Christ, I have no idea. I feel like I have a permanent case of PMS."

"Menopause?"

"Shut up." She pushed a hand through the thick auburn waves and frowned.

Madison studied her for a while. She looked miserable. "Darcy, what is it?" Her voice conveyed her concern.

Darcy started to pace behind the bar. "Something Jamie did pissed me off.

Jamie is sure getting around upsetting everyone, Madison thought. "What did she do?"

"She had a one night stand. ‘A wild one,’ in her words. Now she is mooning over this woman."

"A…" When she saw that Darcy was serious, Madison stopped the bubble of laughter that was threatening to erupt. "I see. Why would that bother you?

You do that al the time."

"I know, but it’s not the same thing."

"How so?"

"It’s Jamie." The more she talked the more ridiculous she knew she sounded. "Fuck, that sounded stupid."

"I won’t argue with that," Madison threw at her. Darcy turned to her but Madison dismissed the glare. "That look stopped working on me years ago." A thought suddenly occurred to Madison and her eyes narrowed as she looked at Darcy. "Listen, Darcy, do you have feelings for her?"

"For who? Jamie? Fuck no."

"Mmm, because if I didn’t know better, I would say you’re jealous."

"Jealous? That’s crazy. We’ve been friends for a hundred years."

"Yeah. Stil ...why would it bother you so much?"

"Maybe I’m jealous because I haven’t had sex in a while." Darcy suddenly stopped pacing. How long has it been? She frowned.

"Darcy, its okay if you have feelings for her. You shouldn’t be scared of feeling them once in a while." Because it was too close to Jamie’s accusation, Darcy turned on her. "What the hel are you talking about? I’m not scared."

Madison rol ed her eyes at the heated tones. She smiled at her friend. "I have known you for 20 years, so I’m entitled to say certain things. And you, my dear, have a fear of attachment. And that fear makes you paranoid about commitments."

"I think you need committing."

"Okay." Madison stood up. "Stay grumpy. Most people are used to it. But you might want to think about what I said."

Darcy stared at the door long after Madison had left. Darcy had always been a big believer in living in truth. A part of her could acknowledge her ability to toy with others, but it was a thought she rarely ventured to. A flash of a smile had won her more than her fair share of bed partners, and she had rarely questioned her inability to stay with anyone too long. No one had ever penetrated deep enough below the cool layers to touch her heart. No, she always made it clear at the beginning what she was looking for. Stil , it never stopped them from hoping for more. Unaware of or paying very little attention to the impact she had on others, she was often careless with it. Her hand rubbed at the ache in her chest. These were not pleasant thoughts. And it’s al Jamie’s fault, she thought grumpily, knowing deep down inside that it wasn’t.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Jamie slipped into the familiar booth across from Barney. "So, what do you have for me?"

He smiled. "Gee, no ‘hel o, how are you?’"

"I’m fresh out of pleasantries today. What do you have for me?"

Barney smiled. "I think I hit the mother lode. You might even want to buy me a case of that bourbon you always promise me."

"That good?"

He slid an envelope towards her. "See for yourself."

Jamie took it but did not open it. She left it lying on the table in front of her. She had the feeling that the information would be upsetting.

Barney studied her. "You didn’t tel me you knew the judge."

Jamie started. "Which judge?"

"The dead one."

Jamie felt her heart start to race. The look on her face had Barney smiling. "Don’t worry about it, Saunders. I won’t say anything." He took a sip of his drink. "I got an informant that shal remain nameless, someone who works - or should I say - used to work with the Chief Justice. When I started to ask around, my snitch was more than happy to share some stuff - for the right price, of course." He smiled and she did not like the look of that smile. "It appears that the Chief was into kinky stuff. Taking pictures, that sort of thing. He kept a whole stack of ’em in a safety deposit box." He rubbed his nose once. "It was only a quick step from that to finding the deposit box and its contents." He nodded toward the envelope.

Jamie blanched. She couldn’t find her voice, couldn’t find the nerve to look inside the envelope. She knew now that digging further had been a mistake.

When she made no move to look at his findings, Barney reached over and did it for her. He pul ed out several typewritten sheets and a stack of Polaroids.

"It looks like your pretty judge lady was into it as wel , or at least posed for him. Those ones are yummy." He handed them to her and relaxed back, satisfied.

Jamie knew she shouldn’t look, but with almost macabre interest, took them from him. She swal owed and looked down at the pictures. The nausea rose quickly and her forehead broke out in sweat. She felt the tremor in her fingers and was thankful that Barney’s attention was on the basebal game playing on one of the washed out television sets by the bar. She shoved the pictures back into the envelopes, pul ed a few bil s from her pocket and threw them on the table. She stood up on shaky legs, knowing she was going to be sick.

"You did good Barney, thanks."

He looked at her. "Yeah? Than why do you look so glum?"

She avoided his eyes. "You’re not drunk enough for me to tel you." As she picked up the envelope, she tried to smile but knew she’d failed. "I gotta go. I’l see you around." The gloomy interior of the bar was suffocating her. The smoke seemed thicker. She felt her stomach clench. If she didn’t leave now, she was going to make a fool of herself.

Barney was disappointed at her reaction. "You were hoping for more? I could continue to dig."

"No. No. This is plenty to move the case forward. If not, I wil be in touch. I’l get you your fee tomorrow."

Barney looked after her departing back, puzzled. He’d thought she would be over the moon with what he’d found. Maybe he would keep digging just in case.

Outside, unable to contain it any longer, Jamie threw up as she leaned a weak hand against the side of her car. She slowly straightened and wiped her mouth with shaky fingers that were as cold as ice. In the car, she waited for the trembling to stop. The panic and shock had come swiftly, and she now struggled for control. She pul ed the pictures out once more. There were about a dozen of them in total - black and white, color, of different people in various positions. What had her heart slamming against her ribcage were the pictures of a young blond child with gray eyes. She might have been four, with red bows in her hair. Jamie looked at the photo and felt pity for her younger self. The pictures were innocent looking, the child sitting naked on a blanket, playing with her favorite dol . Except Jamie knew they were not so innocent. She had always loved that dol . What hit her suddenly was the solemn expression on her face, the eyes so very watchful as if waiting. No child of that age should look so serious. Had she ever seen a picture where she was smiling? Unconcerned? She felt the bile creep up her throat and swal owed it back down on a sob. She looked at the pictures again. She stopped at another one. It was a picture of her in ful dress uniform taken during her police academy graduation ceremony. The bastard came. How did I miss him?

How had he known? She hadn’t seen him. She started to shake again but forced herself to flip through the rest. She felt the pain spear her chest when she stopped at two pictures of Shane in bed with her father and another woman. The shock felt like fire as it went through her. The revulsion came swiftly and she felt the hot tears threaten. She leaned her head against the steering wheel and closed her eyes. You sick bastard. Then her eyes returned to the picture of the golden haired woman, who had shared her bed only days before. Here was Shane’s motive, what she was trying to hide. Was he blackmailing Shane with these pictures? There was a momentary flash of pity for the woman, but anger quickly overtook it. Shane must have known who I was that night, she thought, sickened.

She threw the pictures on the seat next to her. Her hands grabbed the steering wheel until the knuckles showed white. Then she forced herself to slowly relax her death grip. She wiped the tears from her eyes, felt the bitter aftertaste in the back of her throat as she breathed in once deeply through her nostrils. I have to get hold of myself. I have to get out of here.

She drove home in a fog, barely remembering parking the car. As she let herself into the house, the phone was ringing but she ignored it. She kicked off her shoes and marched straight to the living room bar and pul ed a bottle off the shelf. She was pouring herself a drink when the phone rang again. Idly, she glanced at the cal display, and saw that it was Darcy. For one instant she was tempted. Darcy. The need for her was so great that it left her weak. She suddenly felt unbearably alone. Weakened, Jamie slid to the floor and started to cry, her arms tightly wrapped around her knees, face buried against them. She cried for the innocence she had lost, for the wounds that stubbornly remained tender under the skin.

***

Darcy slammed the telephone down. This had to stop. She had been trying to get hold of Jamie for the better part of the last two days, to no avail. She had even left an apology, which she now regretted, on the answering machine. She grabbed her keys and stormed out of the bar. By the time she got to Jamie’s, she had worked up a pretty good head of steam. If Jamie thinks that she can ignore me, she has another thing coming. She slammed on the brakes and got out of the car. If she thinks I am going to grovel, she is in for a surprise. She slammed the car door shut. Darcy tried the front door and found it unlocked. She walked in. "Saunders, where the hel are you? If you think I’m going to put up with being..." She stopped in the doorway, felt her heart drop, rushed in. "Honey, what is it? Are you okay?" She knelt down next to Jamie and wiped the tear stained face with a gentle hand. Worry sharpened her tone. "What the hel is going on?"

"Darcy?" Jamie couldn’t remember speaking to her, but feeling her touch broke through the fog and she started sobbing again.

Stunned, Darcy wrapped herself around Jamie and held on tight. "Shh... I’m here. I’m here." Her mind whirled; she felt helpless to ease the pain so clearly being felt by the blond woman in her arms. One hand fisted and her eyes narrowed. Whoever hurt her is going to pay, she thought with fury.

They lost track of time as they sat on the floor until the latest wave passed and Jamie had calmed down enough for Darcy to leave her to search for tissues. She returned and sat back down, automatical y pul ing her friend close. They didn’t say anything, and another hour passed as Darcy sat holding Jamie, her hand stroking her head, her back. Shadows lengthened on the wal s as darkness fel around them. The only sound that penetrated the silence was the ticking of a clock in another room.

"Jamie? Honey? I think my ass is asleep. Can we try and get up?" The grumpy tone pul ed a smile from Jamie, and she nodded against Darcy’s chest.

Darcy stood, then helped Jamie up.

"I need to go wash up," Jamie final y said with a tired voice.

"Good idea. I’l fix us a drink while you do that."

While Jamie showered, Darcy paced in the kitchen. She was unnerved by the scene which had just played out, and for one brief moment was tempted to run away. "Get a grip," she scolded out loud. She had never before felt so helpless or lost. She of the decisive action didn’t have a clue how to handle this.

At a sound, Darcy turned. Embarrassed by her breakdown and the apparent weakness it conveyed, Jamie averted her eyes. Neither broke the silence, yet each was mindful of it, mindful of al that was going unsaid. Needing something to do, Darcy poured Scotch into a couple of glasses and handed one to Jamie. She sipped hers while looking at Jamie over the rim.

"Don’t," Jamie said, leaving the room.

Darcy stared after her, not knowing what to do. Should I leave? She fol owed Jamie slowly. "Jamie?"

"What?" Now that she was calmer, Jamie wanted to be alone. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with her memories. Alone with her pain. She avoided Darcy’s eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said curtly.

Stung by the wal that had sprung up between them in the last hour, Darcy put her glass down. "I guess I’l go, if you’re sure you are okay."

"I’m fine." Jamie stared out of the window, feeling the pain deep in her chest and the tears threaten again. Darcy hesitated in the doorway. She tried to think of something to say but words failed her. With a sigh she turned to leave. At the noise of her retreat, Jamie turned to look at her. Just that quickly, need poured through her, leaving her shaken. "Stay."

The word was a whisper but Darcy stopped and turned around. Their eyes met. Jamie pushed a trembling hand through her hair. "I’m sorry. I’m a mess."

Darcy smiled at her. "Yeah honey, you are." Somehow it was the right thing to say and pul ed a shaky laugh from Jamie. Darcy crossed back to her and wrapped both arms around her friend. Jamie leaned her head against the strong shoulder and sighed deeply. Why is it that I feel so safe with you? She wondered. She pressed closer, letting Darcy’s strength soothe her.

***

"Do you want to tel me what happened?" Darcy asked later as they sat on the sofa, sipping from their drinks.

Jamie tucked her legs in under her and sighed. "I woke up to a nightmare. Except now it is a waking one." Darcy said nothing. Jamie looked at her. "The woman I picked up the other night?"

Darcy felt a twinge at the thought of this unknown woman but unwil ing to examine the feelings behind it chose to ignore it. She nodded.

"She’s a suspect in a case Alex and I are involved in." Jamie took a deep breath as she felt the tremor go through her. "The murder of my father." Darcy’s swift intake of breath was the only sign that she had heard correctly. After a long moment, she turned to look ful y at Jamie. Aware of her gaze, Jamie stared into the distance. "There are pictures."

Darcy was now convinced that she didn’t want to hear any more. She felt her uneasiness increase, but stayed focused on Jamie’s white face. Jamie turned to look at her and the gray eyes seemed to shift color. "They’re in the car."

"Do you want me to get them?" Darcy asked, her voice uncertain. Jamie’s nod was slight but it was enough. Darcy stood up and left the room. Jamie sat staring at her hands. What was she going to do now? She wrapped her arms around her waist, and felt the cold from inside carry goose bumps across her skin. Darcy returned with the envelope, sat beside Jamie and placed it on the table in front of them. "Go ahead, you can look at them." Jamie said without looking at her.

Darcy hesitated. She took the envelope and pul ed out the pictures. Silently she stared at them, one by one. She recognized Jamie in her uniform, Jamie as a baby. She felt the fury course through her but forced herself to go on. When she was done, she put them on the table and turned to look at Jamie.

Jamie final y met her eyes.

"The last two are of my father and the woman I met that night at your place."

Darcy froze and her eyes darted to the pictures again. "James..."

"I know. Life has a pretty sick sense of humor if you ask me." The tone was bitter.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The bel s hanging from the door jangled cheerful y as Jamie walked into the bookstore. Megan, Alex’s girlfriend, looked up from her invoices and smiled.

She immediately noticed the pale, drawn look, the circles under Jamie’s eyes. But what real y caught her attention was the stil ness, as if the energy that was so much a part of Jamie had been wiped clean

. Jamie wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs." Moping and missing you, Megan thought as she watched the tal blonde cross the bookstore to the back, where a door led to two apartments upstairs. Alex was sitting in the kitchen, elbows on the table, brooding over the forensics reports. The brown hair found at the scene was Shane’s. She sighed, and then turned as she heard the quick knock before the door opened. She wanted to smile, wanted to go to her, but Jamie’s stil ness stopped her. There was a fragility in her friend that made her check her movement. Without a word, Jamie threw some pictures on the table. Alex stared at her but when Jamie added nothing, Alex took the pictures. She studied them one by one. There it was, the motive. Instead of feeling elated, she felt disappointed, diminished by the story behind the pictures.

"Jamie..."

"Do what you need to do, Alex," Jamie final y said. "I don’t want to talk about any of this, not right now. But I want to be there when you confront her."

"Jamie, I’m so sorry," Alex offered.

Jamie looked at her friend, gray eyes swirling with emotion. "I know." She left without another word.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Shane knew when she opened the door and saw Alex and Jamie standing there, that they had found the pictures. Why else would they both show up on her doorstep? The knowledge was there in their body language, the sober look on their faces. She tried to catch Jamie’s eyes but Jamie looked away.

Without a word Shane stepped back and opened the door wider as they passed by her. Taking a deep breath, she closed the door and fol owed them into her living room, her hands twisting nervously in front of her.

Instead of asking her to come back to the station for further questioning, Alex had decided to do the interrogation at Shane’s house. Jamie knew without being told that Alex was doing it for her protection, trying to keep their knowing each other a secret. She was grateful to her for that. But knowing her friend as she did, she also knew that Alex would not accept her gratitude. In the living room Alex turned to look at Shane.

"Should I cal my lawyer?" Shane asked.

"If you wish," Alex shrugged. "We just want to get your reaction to something we discovered in our investigation."

Shane glanced at Jamie then back at Alex. "No, that’s fine." She crossed the room; her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet and sat down on a high back Louis IX chair. When Alex handed her a manila envelope, Shane took a deep fortifying breath but her face remained composed. She lifted the flap and looked inside. Her face paled as she stared at each picture then pushed them back into the envelope. She looked up at Alex who sat in the opposite chair watching her. Jamie remained standing by the window unwil ing to get closer.

"There is real y no denying that that is you in the pictures?" It was less a question than a statement from Alex.

Shane sighed then nodded once.

"We would like to know more about them." Alex added.

Shane gave a short humorless laugh. "I think the pictures say enough don’t you?"

Alex continued to look at her silently. Shane’s faint smile was tired.

"It al happened a long time ago, Detective."

"Perhaps but their relevance is stunning don’t you agree?"

"I made some bad choices. The memories are ugly. Years ago, I expunged them from my mind and got on with my life. I tried to make a new life."

"Very good answer. Except for the fact that those pictures, give us sufficient grounds to wrap a motive around the rest of the evidence that points to you."

Alex thoughtful y steeped her fingers under her chin as she regarded the woman. "Let me have a crack at what happened. Years ago you found yourself in a compromising position with a woman and the judge. The how’s stil to be figured out. Pictures are taken. Maybe you don’t know that pictures exist. Then years pass and you ironical y become a judge in the same court as your youthful indiscretion, we wil cal it that for lack of a better word, and lo and behold, he has pictures that he uses on you as blackmail after he figures out who you are. Maybe to force you to vote with him on certain cases. Maybe for kicks.

Then fed up, you decide to confront him and ask for the return of those pictures. When he refuses you shoot and kil him. How am I doing so far?"

Shane’s face was expressionless. "Pretty good except for the last part. I did not kil him."

Jamie unable to stand stil any longer started to pace. "Shane, level with us. Make it easier on yourself. Come clean. What the hel happened in the hotel room that day?"

Shane stared at her exasperated. "You should know."

That stopped Jamie. "What? How the hel would I know? You haven’t told the truth since I’ve met you."

Shane sprang up angry. "And you have? Did you tel the Detective here that we slept together that night?"

"I did."

Shane’s eyes narrowed at that. "And did you tel her that you were there in the hotel room that night too?"

"What? Are you crazy?" Jamie exploded. "I was not." She turned to meet Alex’s look who was suddenly studying her with concern. She shook her head at the unspoken question.

"I saw you that night. I saw you leave the room when I came back the second time. That is why I changed my mind and left," Shane told her heatedly.

Jamie looked at her stunned. "I haven’t a clue what you are talking about."

"Maybe you should start at the beginning." Alex broke through quietly.

Shane sat down as she glared at Jamie. She looked away and rubbed her eyes, feeling suddenly tired. "At a law conference years ago, just after being told that I was being put up for the state Supreme Court vacancy, I met a woman in a bar. One thing led to another, and I found myself in her room. We had a lot to drink; some of what happened next is a bit blurry." She grimaced. "I remember that she asked if it would be okay if a friend joined us. I thought she meant another girl." The laugh was bitter. "I passed out and I woke up alone, with the distinct feeling that there had been a man there, too." She stood up needing to pace. "Over the next few months, I would start to remember things, but it was al so hazy that I kept thinking I had dreamt it. One year after I had joined his court, Judge Reynolds approached me in chambers and gave me a set of pictures. Some of them were pretty graphic and were of just the woman and me. He suggested in a friendly tone that I should fol ow along with his vote and hinted that if I didn’t, the pictures would end up in the media. I panicked." She turned to Jamie, pleading with her eyes. "I had made a name for myself professional y. I was respected. He knew that I would do anything to protect what I had worked so hard for. It had been a clever set up, I think, right from the beginning." She rubbed her eyes with fingers that trembled slightly.

"He was not above taking kickbacks from interested parties to swing certain votes appropriately. I had heard a few rumors before but never believed them. He was so respected in the court. Being a new addition to his panel, I was an unknown quantity for him. I guess he wanted to make sure I would fol ow along as my predecessor had. I don’t know how…" Her look was distant for a moment, the curve of her mouth sad. "So, I voted with him. On this last case we were working on, the judge was pressing me for my vote. This time I refused. His decision went against everything that I believed in as a judge and as a woman." She pushed an agitated hand through her hair. "He threatened me with exposure once again. I think I snapped. I was obsessed with getting the pictures back. That is why I was trying to get into his hotel room that day, to steal them. But I did not shoot him." Her hands spread wide, palm up, as if pleading.

Alex regarded her thoughtful y, her look skeptical. "Quite the story."

"It’s the truth." Almost desperately she turned to Jamie. "Tel her."

"Me? What do I have to do with it?" But something had started to nip at the edges of her mind, a thought that was making the hair on her arms stand up.

She had already suspected that Shane had known her that night, and now she was starting to wonder if she had been right al along. But how?

"Because you were there. I saw you leave his room. When I entered that bar and found you there, I was shocked. At first I thought I was mistaken. But you came over to talk to me and I thought maybe you had seen me too. I guess that is why I talked to you. I wanted to know what you knew."

"For the last time, I was not in his hotel room!" Jamie almost shouted it.

Shane stared at her, white faced, eyes panicked. "I saw you. Why won’t you tel the truth?"

Perturbed Alex stared at the two of them. Part of her actual y believed Shane. Another part wondered about her best friend, and then she was shaken that she would wonder. Then Jamie went very stil at a sudden thought and the color drained from her face. "When you saw me that night, what did you real y see?" she asked Shane, staring intently at her face.

Shane sank further down in her chair. "You. You were wearing different clothes and a hat, but it was you." Shane stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. "I know it was you. Either that, or I am losing my mind." Shaken she closed her eyes.

Jamie’s eyes met Alex’ and the turbulence in the gray eyes communicated itself to Alex, who frowned at her, suddenly uneasy. Alex stood up, her mind swirling with questions. She turned to Shane. "This changes nothing. This investigation wil continue. You are not eliminated from our lists of suspects, Miss Scott."

"But I did not kil him, I swear. I thought...I thought you did." Shane had turned to Jamie. "That is why I wasn’t saying anything about seeing you. I didn’t want you to be guilty. Not after that night." Shane whispered to Jamie, who looked like she was going to be sick. "I wasn’t there Shane. It must have been somebody else."

Shane rubbed her eyes. "It looked like you."

"It wasn’t."

Alex stood up. "We wil be in touch." She motioned to Jamie and they crossed back to the door.

"Detective?"

Alex turned. Shane was holding out the envelope. "Don’t forget your evidence."

Alex met her eyes and Shane’s shoulders slumped slightly as her eyes caught Jamie’s shaken look. "Keep them." The grateful light in Shane’s eyes had Alex’s stomach churning at what she had just done. Disappointment twisted her mouth. She just couldn’t be sure if the disappointment was in herself or in Jamie for putting her in that position. She left without another word. Outside, as they stood by the car Alex looked at her friend.

"We need to talk Jamie," she said flatly.

"I know. But not here."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

They drove to a park and sat in the car watching a cocker spaniel chasing a bal being thrown by a young man in a red coat. After a moment, Alex turned to her friend.

Aware of her stare, Jamie sighed and met her gaze. "It’s a long story."

"I’ve got time."

The story came out in a flat monotone. Jamie stared out of the window as she told Alex of the abuse and the reason why her father had been eliminated from her life. When she was done, Alex took her hand. "Why didn’t you say anything before, Jamie?"

There was genuine hurt behind the question.

"I spent thirty years trying to forget it. It’s not an easy thing to talk about. I’m sorry, Alex; I didn’t want to it to change our friendship." Tears came to her eyes and Jamie rubbed at them impatiently.

"Do you think I would think any less of you for the actions of a creep?" There was anger now. "What kind of friend do you think I am if I couldn’t be there for you, accepting of what you went through?"

They stared at each other. Something fundamental had shifted between them. The lack of honesty had created a jagged break in the rock of their friendship and neither of them knew how to repair it as they continued staring at each other. What would come next would widen the crack. Alex was reluctant to ask, but knew she had to.

"Jamie, were you in that hotel room that night?"

Something flickered on Jamie’s face. A momentary hurt that the question had been asked.

"No." She looked out of the window then back to her friend. Alex looked thoughtful.

"Wel , if it wasn’t you, but the person looked enough like you for Shane to have mistaken one for the other..." She trailed off.

Jamie sighed. "I think we both know who it might have been."

***

"Aunt Jamie!" The pig tailed blond haired girl ran across the lawn and launched herself into Jamie’s arms as soon as the tal blonde stepped out of the car. Jamie forced a smile to her face as she hugged her niece. "Hey there, brat, you’re getting almost as tal as me."

The six year old giggled and turned to Alex. "Hi, Auntie Alex. Do you have your gun?"

Alex smiled at her, but her blue eyes remained cool. "Nope. This is my day off." Alex glanced at Jamie but her friend avoided her eyes as Jamie smiled at the young girl.

"Whereís your mom?"

"Out back. Shes painting a chair; I’m helping." She grinned and showed off her paint splattered hands and the gap where her two front teeth should have been. "I’m going to have chocolate later." She ran off into the back to announce their arrival.

Jamie stood stil as she stared at the two-story house with its pretty peak and bright red door. The nausea she had felt on the drive over returned. Taking a deep breath, she started walking around to the back. Alex fol owed silently.

Her sister Emma, alerted to their visit by her daughter, had started making her way to the front and waved at them as she continued wiping her paint-splattered hands on a rag. She was identical in every way to Jamie, though she wore her blond hair longer. Her eyes, more green than Jamie’s own deep gray, looked on with amusement as her daughter gave a careless wave and ran to the house.

"This is a surprise," Emma said with a light laugh. She turned her attention to Alex. "And you, stranger, haven’t seen you in ages."

Alex forced a smile. "I know. I’m a slave to my work. And your sister over there keeps insisting on driving, so I never make it over here. I think she doesn’t want me to get any of your famous brownies."

Emma laughed but her eyes caught the worried watchfulness in her sister’s eyes. Years of being in tune with her twins emotions had her suddenly dropping the rag, concerned.

"What is it?"

"We need to talk without being interrupted."

Emma gave them a startled glance, then nodded once. They walked back to the house and Emma went searching for her daughter. After putting a video on for her and preparing a quick snack, she returned to the kitchen where Jamie was pacing while Alex faked nonchalance as she slouched in a chair.

"Not here." Emma said as she stopped in the doorway, and they turned to her expectantly. They fol owed her to the smal study off the kitchen. The desk was covered with a pile of essays that Emma, as a fourth grade teacher, stil needed to mark, colorful finger-painted pictures of abstract shapes that were clearly animals if one knew of such things. Emma stepped to the desk and turned, a faint line of worry between her eyes. Her fingers nervously shuffled some of the papers around. The air felt heavy as the tension settled over the room.

Alex was the last to enter and she closed the door, leaning against it. Jamie startedto pace, her entire body vibrating with emotion. Her mind was tangled with too many thoughts and as she looked white faced at her sister, she could not figure out a way to ask the questions that needed asking.

Her sister’s face paled and her body took on the same lines of nervous energy. "Jamie, what is it?"

"Emma, I need to ask you something and God knows I don’t want to ask but I have to," Jamie choked out. She stopped pacing and turned to her sister, gray eyes turbulent, bright with un-shed tears.

"James, you’re scaring me."

"I need to know if you were in Dad’s hotel room the night he was kil ed." The words came out in a rush. Jamie closed her eyes as she finished and missed Emma’s look of horror. Jamie’s whole body tensed as if warding off a blow. Alex, watching them from the door, felt her heart sink at Emma’s reaction. She fought against her sudden need to stop the questioning before they got answers that they could not live with.

For a long tense moment, Emma could only stare at her sister, then she started to cry. At that, Jamie stepped toward her and her hands gripped her sister’s arms. "Emma, honey, did you go there?" There was a plea in her tone. Worry was in her eyes, urgency in her body language. She knew the answer before Emma responded and felt her heart rap against her ribcage.

Emma nodded as tears streamed down her face. Jamie felt the blow of it and the nausea returned. She was unaware of the tears inching down her face.

"For Gods sake, why?"

Emma wiped a shaky hand across her eyes. "To warn him to stay away from Ashley."

Emma’s answer wasn’t what she had expected. A look of dawning horror crossed Jamie’s face and her hands clenched at her side as her sister continued. "He went to see her at school. She came home one day from school and out of the blue told me about meeting her grandpa."

Jamie could barely get the words out. "Did he touch her?"

Emma shook her head violently. "No. No." She started to cry again; the anguish and fear in her body slumping her shoulders, she sank into a nearby chair.

"I felt my whole world tilt and turn upside down that day."

Jamie knelt in front of her. "Emma, honey, what happened that night?" Her eyes wandered worriedly over to where Alex was standing, looking transfixed.

The eyes met briefly and it was Alex who looked away. Jamie’s eyes returned to her twin.

"When she told me about seeing him, I was terrified. I cant explain the shock that went through me. I hadn’t thought of him in years. Tried not to. What was past was past and I had a new life. But knowing he had come so close to my baby drove me crazy. Thinking of the possibilities. Remembering." She shuddered and Jamie felt it as if the shudders were her own. Her teeth clenched in response until her jaw ached from the tension.

"I found out where he was living and went to see him. He let me in, delighted about the visit, as if nothing had ever happened. As if we had seen each other only the day before and not thirty years ago. I stood looking at him and the only thought that I had was that he didn’t look like a monster at al ." She gave a bitter laugh. "Al these years, I had an image in my mind of him as a monster. It shocked me that I could stand in that hotel room that day watching him be al smiles and ful of charm, and know that I hated him but no longer feared him. That’s when I knew that I was over it, over the fear of him." She stood up to pace, a habit similar to her sister that went unnoticed by the other two women.

Jamie straightened and glanced once toward Alex who stood staring at Emma eyes narrowed, face unreadable. Jamie could not tel what she was thinking and it unnerved her. Jamie turned her attention back to her sister, dreading the next question.

"Then what happened?"

Emma stopped pacing. "I told him I knew he had been at the school. I warned him to stay away from her or I would kil him." She looked at her sister, eyes fiery. "I turned and left. As I was closing the door, I heard him groan, almost like a choking sound, and heard a thud as if he had fal en, but I didn’t turn around to look. I didn’t care." She looked over at Alex and their eyes held. "When I heard he had died, I was relieved that someone else did it. I’m glad he is dead."

"Oh, Emma, why didn’t you tel me this before?" Jamie asked with a defeated sigh.

Emma shook her head, pushing a trembling hand through her blond hair. The gesture was so like Jamie’s that the poignancy of it was not loss on Alex. "I don’t know. I guess I was afraid of this..." She waved at the two of them. Alex watched them and felt their pain batter at her.

"Do I have to go to the station to give my statement and be questioned?" Emma asked.

Alex sighed as her love and loyalty for Jamie once again came face to face with her responsibility and duty. "No. Nothing said here today is relevant to the case." It was a lie and Jamie knew it. Their eyes met and Alex looked suddenly defeated by the demands love brought. Jamie’s eyes fil ed at the gesture, knowing that their friendship would never be the same again. As she turned to leave, Alex recognized the same thing.

TWO MONTHS LATER

It took six rings of the phone to reach a corner of her sleeping brain. By the eighth, she managed to slide a hand out from under her blankets. She smacked the alarm clock first, but the noise persisted. With a groan, she reached out and grabbed the offending instrument.

"Lo."

"Good morning!" The voice was annoyingly cheerful in the stil ness of the morning.

Jamie groaned again. "I wil hate you forever."

"Promises, promises," her sister Emma laughed.

"What time is it?"

"Six o’clock."

"Six o'clock are you crazy?" Jamie tried to open her eyes but the brightness coming from the uncovered window was too painful for her and she closed them again.

"Mom just dropped in for a coffee. She made me do it."

"No sane person just drops in at six o’clock." Jamie could hear her mother talking in the background.

"Wel this is Mom we're talking about. We’ve always debated the sanity theory. She wants to come up for a visit today."

"Where?"

"There."

Jamie rubbed her forehead in pain. "Oh no, she doesn’t"

"I suppose you could try this denial thing, but you know that won’t work."

Emma’s voice was amused. Their mother was like a bul dog when she made up her mind about something. They had learned to live with it. Jamie sat up, the sheet fal ing to her bare waist. She immediately wanted to lie down. "Emma, I just moved in," Jamie protested weakly. "I’m living in the middle of chaos. And I stil haven’t recovered from her last visit."

"Who ever does?"

Jamie sighed, knowing she had lost the battle before it ever began.

"If it helps any, I’l be driving her," her sister added.

"It wil only help if you promise to lose her at a gas station on the way." She smiled as she heard her sisters soft chuckle. There was a pause.

"Oh, she wants to talk to you."

"No! Donít you dare put her Hi, Mom!" This as she heard her mothers hel o.

"How are you, dear?"

"As wel as can be expected at six o’clock in the morning," she replied dryly.

"Oh! Were you sleeping?" She sounded incredulous, didn’t wait for an answer. "Are you settling in okay?"

"I just moved in yesterday. I justÖ

"Yes, wel don’t you worry," her mother interrupted. "Your sister and I wil be over to help out."

"You don’t have to, Mom," Jamie tried hopeful y.

"Nonsense. Of course we do. Do you need anything?"

Peace and quiet would be a nice start, Jamie thought, swinging her long legs to the floor. "No. I’m fine."

Jamie said her goodbyes and hung up. Frustrated, she wanted to scream but didn’t dare. How many drinks did I have last night? She tested the strength in her legs as she stood up. Not bad. First a shower, then a strong cup of coffee. That seemed like a good plan of attack. Of course, another three or four hours of sleep would be better. That, and a new head to replace the one pounding atop her shoulders. She slowly made her way to the bathroom. Walking wasn’t as complicated as she’d first thought. One step in front of the other. Yep, so far so good.

An hour later Jamie felt almost human as she padded barefoot into the kitchen. The key word was "almost". She had run out of hot water, and the scream coming out of the bathroom as the icy spray hit her would have done any horror film proud. To top it off, just as she was turning off the water she had remembered that she had not unpacked any towels and so stood in the bathroom drip-drying and shivering, coming up with new and inventive ways of saying the same invective. Now as she searched through her empty cupboards, the thought hit her: she had not bought coffee. She almost whimpered.

People kil ed for far less.

An hour later, sipping a cup of coffee from the neighborhood Starbucks, she sat on the top step of the wraparound porch, long legs stretched in front of her as she savored her first morning at her new house. She watched a cardinal sweep by and perch itself on a low branch of the magnolia tree that bloomed on her front lawn, and a delighted grin crossed her face. She would need a bird feeder to attract more birds, she thought, starting to make a mental list of things she wanted to do. The porch would require a new coat of paint; the lawn needed tending. Then another bird joined the chorus, and the mental list stopped. There was something magical and soothing about the chirping of birds, their individual song the only sound that broke the stil ness of the morning slowly waking around her. Are they singing to each other, to themselves, or just to be heard? she wondered happily as she took another sip of her coffee. In the distance, the sharp, hopeful barking of a dog brought a satisfied smile to her face as she felt the warmth of the early sun touch her face.

This move had been a good decision. Here she could recover, forget what had happened, start anew. After confronting her sister about their father’s death she had taken a leave of absence, uninterested or more to the point emotional y unable to be part of that case any longer. Afraid of what the truth might be, she didn’t want to know who kil ed him. If she was brutal y honest, she would admit that part of her did not want to find out that it was Shane who had done it after al . Being intimate with her father’s kil er would be too absurd, even for her. She left it up to Alex to continue the investigation, though she knew she was running away. And for that she knew Alex would not readily forgive her. She had knowingly breached her ethics, but more importantly had asked the same of her best friend. And obstructed justice, al for the sake of one night of passion. That, more than anything, had caused her to doubt her dedication and effectiveness as a police officer. She needed time to figure out who she was and what she wanted to do with her life. She sighed, troubled by her thoughts.

She recognized the car as it turned onto her street, and released a deep breath. There they were. One cup of coffee was not enough to survive her mother’s visit when she was so clearly on a mission.

Her sister waved as she got out of the car, so identical to Jamie in nearly every way that it always jolted Jamie to look at that mirror image of herself.

Jamie grinned at her. She wore the familiar pinched look of suffering that an hour in the car with their mother always brought. Then Jamie’s attention was captured by the form jumping in the back seat. It came flying out of the car, and Jamie’s eyes widened at the ugliest dog she had ever seen. At least she thought it was a dog.

"What the hel is that?" she asked in horror. Al she could see was a lot of brown and gray fur flying around.

"Surprise!" her mother laughed, delighted.

"What?"

The dog turned and came charging at her. Jamie instinctively took a step back, but the dog sat down at her feet with a thud that raised a cloud of dust, then pushed his wet nose into her hand by way of introduction. She pul ed her hand away but not quickly enough to avoid the wet, sticky film.

"Uugh. Gross. What is that?"

Her sister peered at her hand. "Looks like drool to me. Must be love at first sight."

"What? NoÖno...no." Jamie looked on in horror as understanding dawned. The dog charged through the opened front door.

"It’s not right that a single woman lives on her own without any kind of protection." Her mother beamed at her. "The people at the pound said he has gone to training school and is a very good guard dog."

"But" A crash fol owed by a loud yelp interrupted her. His tail between his legs, the dog came rushing out of the house and hid behind her mother’s legs.

Jamie watched him cowering and shook her head. "Yeah, I feel protected already." Her focus shifted to her sister. Emma shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes.

Jamie’s eyes narrowed at that. She turned once more to her mother. "Mom, I’m not home enough to take care of a dog. And I have to go to Vegas in a few weeks for a wedding. I cant have"

"Nonsense. He wil be good company for you." And with that, her mother entered the house. She had a way of punctuating her sentences that often included leaving the conversation in the middle as soon as she was done, regardless of whether or not anyone else was finished talking. That always drove Jamie crazy.

"But..." Realizing she was talking to air, Jamie turned to her sister. "You could have warned me."

"What? And miss the look on your face? Never." Her sister kissed her. "I’ve had her for two days; it’s your turn. Anyways, James I think you should have a dog, if not for protection, for company."

"I haven’t had time to get lonely yet." She hated that she was whining, but the six year old in her always resurfaced around her mother.

"Jamie Jane!" Her mother came out to the porch, her voice carrying across the peaceful morning like nails across a blackboard. "What kind of packing is this? How do you expect to be able to unpack efficiently if everything is labeled general and has been thrown in one room? What happened to the color-coded labels and the index? Haven’t I taught you girls anything?" Not bothering to wait for a response, she went back inside, shaking her head.

Jamie turned to her sister. "Couldn’t find one little gas station? I ask you for one lousy favor"

Her sister grinned at her. "She wouldn’t let me stop."

As Emma went in search of the rampaging dog inside, Jamie rested her forehead against the closed door. She was being punished, she knew, for al of her sins real and imagined. "I should have moved to Canada," she said aloud.

Her mother poked her head out of the kitchen. "What was that, dear?"

"Nothing, Mom." The loud crash coming from upstairs had her leaning weakly against the door. Under the circumstances, she was certain that the courts would be lenient. Stil , it was a good thing that al her sharp objects were stil packed.

CHAPTER TWENTY

"Darcy, I need a huge favor," Jamie said as soon as she was through the door of the cafe.

The tal , auburn-haired beauty behind the bar threw a glance over her shoulder. "Shoot."

"I need you to look after something for me until I’m back from Las Vegas."

"Sure. What is it?" Distracted, Darcy continued to check her bottle inventory behind the dark polished oak bar.

"It’s in the car; I’l go get it." Jamie hesitated, then seeing that Darcy had turned her attention back to her work, left to retrieve it.

Darcy’s back was to the door as Jamie returned, and at the unfamiliar clicking noise, she turned. The look on her face was almost comical. She glared down at the floor. "What the fuck is that?"

"It."

Realization dawned on her face. "What? No. No fucking way."

"You said yes."

"I thought you wanted me to take care of a plant."

"Come on, Darcy. It wil only be for two days. He is gentle and ful y trained and very obedient." Jamie felt just a twinge of guilt at the little white lies, but she was desperate. Darcy was the only one she could think of that had enough space to take care of him.

"I don’t care. I don’t do dogs." Frowning at Jamie, Darcy crossed her arms, the look on her face fierce. It never had any effect on Jamie. Darcy looked down at the dog beside Jamie and repressed a shudder. "No."

"You owe me."

"How díd you figure that?

Jamie couldn’t fabricate a reason, so she just grinned. It had been worth a shot. "I don’t have anybody else that can do this. Please, Darcy." She kissed her on the cheek. "I promise I won’t tel anyone what a pushover you are."

She smiled and Darcy found herself unable to resist the smile. Damn, it’s that smile that always gets to me. Her mouth curved. "Swear?"

"Cross my heart."

Darcy sighed heavily. "Does it have a name?"

"Monster."

"Figures." Darcy shook her head in disgust as she looked at the dog again.

Two days. How bad could it be?

Three hours later, only sheer wil stopped Darcy from kil ing the dog. Two overturned plants, a smashed three hundred dol ar bottle of champagne, a ripped sofa cushion and a chewed sneaker later, she locked him upstairs in the apartment she kept above the restaurant, and for a few minutes believed that she had found a solution. Then her hand froze on the beer tap as a blood curdling sound pierced the soothing jazz. What the hel is that? When the howling started again, she realized that it was the dog.

She tried to ignore it, hoping that no else was hearing him. She winced as he started up again, and this time could not ignore the curious looks cast in her direction. She sighed as she started toward the back. Oh yeah, Jamie is going to pay big time for this. Not just a little. Big. She entered the apartment and marched out to the back room, where he had been left, hearing him whimpering behind the door.

She swung the door open, ready to blast him, but was almost bowled over as he jumped on her and started to lick her face, delighted about his rescue.

When she saw that he had relieved himself on her hardwood floor, she lost it. "For God’s sake!"

That set off a whole other wave of peeing, and she sank down on a chair unable to decide what she was going to do next: search for and then kil Jamie, or kil the dog. He sat beside her, tail wagging, happy to have her back. When he pushed his nose into her hand and left it covered in a wet film, she decided he was going to have to go first; she wanted Jamie to suffer.

***

Jamie cautiously entered Murphy's upon her return. "Any trouble?"

Darcy studied her. Was there worry in her tone? A hint of guilt perhaps?

"Trouble? MmmÖ She placed a bottle of wine back on a glass shelf. "Trouble would be making sure he is let out at the proper intervals. Maybe trouble would be barking when a stranger approaches. Yeah, that would be trouble." She turned and smiled.

It was the smile that scared Jamie. That slow smile meant danger. Jamie sat down on one of the stools and glanced at her worriedly. "Uh Darcy?"

Darcy continued to smile. "Yes?"

"How much do I owe you?" She tried a smile.

Darcy saw through her attempts. She waved the smile away. "Don’t even bother. This time it won’t work. You owe me so big that I haven’t been able to come up with something big enough for repayment. I thought of hunting you down in Vegas, but I couldn’t leave the monster behind for fear of what he would do."

Jamie smiled at that and despite herself, Darcy found her mouth twitching in response. She waved toward the back. "He’s upstairs. Go get him before I do succumb and murder him, you, or both."

Jamie went around the bar and wrapped her arms around Darcy startling her. "Thanks."

She turned to go upstairs, leaving Darcy almost missing the contact of her body.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The rain was pouring down, soaking everything with sheets of water, and Jamie was quickly drenched. She tried to peer through the driving rain, but could not see. Everything around her was unfamiliar, and she felt the first pearls of panic. She was lost. Then she heard it, the soft whisper coming from behind her. "Did you real y want me dead, sweet pea?"

"What?"

Jamie’s eyes flew open and she found herself in her bed, a scream lodged in her throat. It was a dream, just a dream. Then she felt the dampness against her legs and felt a flash of panic. "What the hel ?" Heart thudding, she sat up, trying to get her mind to re-engage. Her eyes peered into the dark, and it took a moment for her mind to register that it was raining outside. She heard the rain driving against the windows; the slow rumble of thunder, then she felt it - the drop of wet. Good God, was it raining in her bedroom? Stil suspended between her dreams and ful wakefulness, she could only stare dumbfounded at the ceiling. She stood up on trembling legs and final y came ful y awake. The roof was leaking - right over her bed.

"Jesus, that was weird," she told Monster as she brushed a not quite steady hand through her hair. Her eyes found the clock beside her bed. Two a.m.

Nerves stil jangling, she forced a breath through her body then shoved her bed against the wal to avoid the leak. She went in search of a pail, though she knew she wouldn’t sleep again that night. The dream stil danced around in her mind. She turned the radio up loud to try and block out the images. Might as wel get some work done, she thought suddenly.

***

"Yep, you got a leak al right."

"Real y?"

The sarcasm was lost on the repairman as he scratched his head. The movement stretched his faded blue work shirt over his inflated stomach, and Jamie marveled that the buttons held. He flashed a smile meant to convey charm. "Figure they put a coat of paint over it to hide the stains.

"How much to fix it?"

"Wel now…" There was more scratching. "We’ve got to rip the hole and then take a look see under. See what’s rotten. We might…"

"How much?" Jamie interrupted, unable to find her patience.

He glanced at the roof, then back at her. "10Gs if we have to replace the whole thing."

Ten thousand, Jamie thought, wincing internal y. For years, Jamie had refused to touch the trust fund set up by her mother after the divorce. The settlement, painful y arrived at under threats of exposure, had been put aside for her daughters’ futures, but Jamie had refused to touch the money. To touch it would be to accept it as reparations for the wrongs done by her father. Now after al that had happened, al that she had found out, it was the least the bastard could have done. She tried not to think about the fact that some of that money might have been garnered from her father’s il icit activities. She nodded.

"Fine. When can you start?"

"Wel now…" He was wise enough to clue in that she was not wil ing to wait around. "Tomorrow?"

"Fine." She walked away, waves of tiredness battering at her. She felt unsettled, the previous night tugging at her subconscious. As she was about to enter the house, she heard the car pul in and turned. Surprised, she smiled a little uncertainly at her best friend. She hadn’t seen Alex in weeks. Things had been awkward between them since the case. More so, since Jamie’s leave of absence.

"Is this what a four year university education gets you?" Alex said, looking at the house as she stepped out. Lips pursed, she looked at the faded façade, and Jamie felt rather than saw her puzzlement. She stood at the top of the steps, fighting against the urge to rub her hands on the front of her jeans. That would be recognized for what it was - a sign of nervousness.

Jamie took in the peeling plaster, the cracks, the worn hardwood, the missing planks on the wraparound porch, and her shoulders hunched at the baffled look on Alex’s face. Alex couldn’t figure out why Jamie would leave the force to play house. Jamie gave her the tour, explaining her vision, her plan as they went. Alex remained silent throughout. The silence stretched, and she knew Alex thought she was crazy. When they returned to the living room, her glance noted the chipped fireplace.

"When are you coming back to work?"

Jamie stiffened but kept her tone mild. "I’m not."

Alex’ eyes whipped back to her and she frowned. "Seriously?"

"We’ve gone through this. I’m not."

"Jamie, you needed a break and I understand that. I’ve done the same thing. It is a tough case and you got hurt. But this..." Her wave encompassed the house. "Giving up a promising career just so you can use power tools..." Her words trailed away.

Alex was hurt by the distance between them, hurt and angry that Jamie had not confided in her and been honest about her father, about her past. What she would not admit even to herself was the resentment she felt at having compromised her principles and then been left to deal with the aftermath of the case alone. She was angry that Jamie had resigned without talking to her, without being there to help her find her moral footing again. For the first time in her career she was struggling with the various shades of gray encountered in her work. Black and white issues she could understand, but when feelings entered into the work she was lost and she had not had Jamie to share her concerns with. That hurt.

They made their way back out to the porch and stood uncertainly, unable to find the correct words to bridge the gap. The chasm between them seemed to grow wider as they stood there. Alex tried to think of something else to add. Inside, her heart was breaking for their friendship, and more than anything she wanted to tel Jamie she missed her. Pride held her back. "I should go; Megan is expecting me. I just wanted to say hi and see how you are."

Jamie softened. "Alex, I’m fine. I just need some time, that’s al ." In a move reminiscent of their past, she leaned across and kissed her friend on the cheek. "Thanks for caring." They stared at each other and Alex nodded once, then turned to leave.

Jamie turned away and stared at the house. Was she crazy? It did run in the family, after al . On her mother’s side… She shook her head and slowly went up the stairs.

She’d known the house was for her the moment she saw it. She could picture it as it would have been a century before, could imagine what it would look like when she was done with it: the long curving staircase, the polished oak floors, the delicate French doors that opened to the garden, the elegant bal s that would have been held in the enormous living room. They would have rol ed up the plush carpets to make room for dancing. She didn’t know how she knew this, she just did. Like Alex, anyone else would only see the peeling plaster, the cobwebs, the cracks in the ceiling, the dul marked floors, the wobbling balustrade. Everyone but Darcy, who had been the only one who seemed to understand her need for a fresh start. Darcy was also able to see the beauty beneath the paint and neglect. Without thinking twice about it, Jamie had sold her previous house and bought this one in a single day.

She had always done what was expected of her and maybe that was part of the problem, but now this was for her. She was going to disappoint a bunch of people, but at least she would stop disappointing herself. She was burnt out, no question, hol owed out so that she felt empty from too many days and weekends spent working.

As far as she was concerned, her last case had been the last straw. This thing with Shane - she couldn’t cal it anything else but that - had completely sideswiped her, and she needed to lick her wounds in solitude. Dealing with the doubt and fear she had felt standing in her sister’s study and hoping that her sister had nothing to do with the death of their father had left her reeling, uncertain. Until she was certain of her footing again she would work on her house.

Back in the house, she strode to the living room and threw open the French doors to reflect on the view. This was her house. The neglected, tumbled jungle of gardens spread out, snaked through with overgrown and broken bricked paths. There was likely a treasure of planting out there. She’d need a landscaper, but an eager little voice insisted she could do it herself, even if she didn’t know the difference between an annual and a perennial.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Jamie worked stolidly, ceaselessly for three days. She kept an eye on the workers as her roof was repaired. She could admit privately that she had no idea what they were doing, but walking around frowning at their efforts seem to have the desired effect and there was little time wasted. She steamed off yel owed wal paper, stripped bare the hardwood floors. In the evenings she nursed her blisters and aching muscles while poring through house and home magazines. At night she slept little, fighting off too many recurring nightmares, but the lack of sleep seemed not to affect her as she woke with the dawn, ready to tackle one more project.

On one such morning, she went through the house making an inventory of the projects left so that she could prioritize them. She was good at that. She reached for a doorknob, the brass dul ed with time and neglect. As her hand closed over the knob, her head began to spin, and in an instant she knew a fear so huge she wanted to run away screaming.

Don’t go in.

The voice in her head was loud and urgent. Jamie had learned to listen to the voices in her head, but fighting off the sensation, she turned the knob and entered the room. She was struck immediately by the closeness of the air. She was halfway to the window to open it when she stopped, and the shiver became a shudder. She felt a coldness sweep in and blow over her skin like a breath, then pass through her hair like fingers. A feeling of grief poured into her. This was a sad room. She pushed the doors open and left the room quickly, closing the door behind her. Leaning against it, she felt her heart rate steady. I need a break. She had been working non-stop, after al . Time to go play. As she cal ed for the dog and stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs, she didn’t feel chil ed, felt no rush of cold air, no sudden shift in the silence; and standing there, she couldn’t explain how she knew she wasn’t alone.

***

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

"Like Casper?"

Jamie smiled. "Not quite, but something like that. Like feeling that souls sometimes don’t quite leave. Maybe we are not alone here."

Darcy gave her a look. "No. When you’re dead, you’re dead. That’s it. Final. I don’t believe that after I die I’m going to come back as a flea, you know?"

Jamie stared into space. "I guess I don’t either."

Sensing something behind the words, Darcy studied her. "James, what’s going on?"

Jamie shrugged. "Nothing. It’s just that I keep feeling…" She smiled. "Never mind. I’m not sleeping too wel lately; I’m imagining things."

"Things like what?"

"Nothing. Listen, do you think if I choose yel ow for the sun room it’s going to be too bright?" She was changing the subject, but she felt too foolish to purse the topic of the supernatural.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Jamie woke with a jolt and in the dark felt the hard wood of the floor under her, felt the damp coldness of a closed in room. What the hel ? Groggy, she stretched out a hand and hit a wal . Her heart slammed in her chest. Slowly she got to her feet, feeling along, looking for the door. She realized that she was on the third floor. How did I get here? There were cobwebs in her hair; her hands and her feet were dirty. She went to the washroom to gulp down water, then locked herself in the bedroom. She was sleepwalking again. She hadn’t done that since her childhood. "I’m okay, dammit. And I’m going back to bed." But the face in the mirror staring back at her looked scared.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

"If I hear one more Carpenters’ song, I’l …"

"You’l what?" Jamie’s eyebrows lifted, a chal enge in her tone.

At the tone, Darcy’s eyes narrowed. "Play one and you’l see."

Earlier in the day, Darcy had stopped in to offer her help in painting the living room. For the better part of the morning, they had split the room in two and wasted no time in getting the job down. Drop sheets protected the hardwood floor from the splatter, and they quietly went about their work, occasional y stopping to chase the dog out of the room. Monster, it seemed, had discovered a talent for stepping into whatever fresh paint splatter could be found. His blue paw prints were everywhere. It didn’t seem to worry Jamie, but it was starting to irritate Darcy. To top it off, for the better part of the morning, the music had been a journey through the 1970’s. Darcy didn’t have any particular fondness for that period and was now pretty much at the end of her patience.

Jamie stood up in one graceful motion. It was like watching a dancer move. Darcy flashed on that thought, then focused on what Jamie was doing. "Don’t do it, Jamie," she warned.

"Don’t do what?" Jamie hit the replay on the stereo remote and the husky voice of Karen Carpenter floated through the house. "Do this?" She waved the remote control and had only a split second to react as Darcy threw her paintbrush aside and charged her with a snarl. Jamie danced away from her with a laugh, and the chase was on. Giggles escaped from Jamie as Darcy chased her around the living room, and Monster joined in, thinking it a new game.

The air was punctuated with squeals, muffled laughter and wild barking. Jamie tried to catch her breath, half holding a chair in front of her as protection as another giggle surfaced. Was that a giggle? she thought, mortified.

Darcy abandoned the chase, her smile wide as her eyes quickly surveyed the area. She relaxed her stance and saw Jamie do the same. That was a mistake. Darcy lunged, but her aim was off slightly and as her hand caught Jamie’s shirt, she took a quick step back, nudging the chair that was beside her. In a wild heap, they fel to the floor, toppling the chair along with them. Unfortunately, the paint tray that had been setting on the chair fol owed right along with them, splattering them with paint.

"Fuck!"

"Oh my God!" Jamie tried to speak, tried to apologize, but her laughter made the words unclear. "Darcy…I…" Her hand reached up to wipe Darcy’s face, forgetting for a moment that the appendage was covered in blue paint, as wel . "Oops…" She choked on her laughter as her fingers left a wider streak of blue on Darcy’s forehead.

Darcy lay atop her, trying to catch her breath as paint dripped from her chin and onto Jamie. She felt her body clench and react to the feel of Jamie’s body sprawled out underneath hers, and couldn’t figure out how to make herself move.

"Darcy…" Jamie’s grin faded slowly. Her pulse began to kick as the laughter died out of Darcy’s eyes. Worried that her friend was upset, she tried to apologize. "I’m so…"

"Shut up a minute," Darcy snarled. Then her mind went blank as she looked at Jamie. Wel , hel . Her mouth closed on Jamie’s with a force that was stunning.

The heat slammed into Jamie, then her mouth parted as Darcy’s urgency stirred a gaping need deep within. As their mouths moved with piercing urgency, a quiet moan ripped from Jamie’s throat.

The soft sound penetrated the haze and Darcy froze. Heart thudding, she stared down at Jamie, shocked. "Oh God, Jamie…I…I’m sorry."

"Don’t be..."

"I’m sorry." Darcy jumped up and for the first time in her life, ran, leaving a stunned and aroused Jamie behind. As she sat up, Jamie felt her heart rate slowly return to normal. What the hel was that?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"She kissed me."

"Who did?"

"I mean, I kissed her."

"Who?"

"Jamie."

"So?" Darcy turned to glare at Lauren who stared back, puzzled. Their group of friends kissed each other al the time.

"So? So?" Darcy started to pace again. "So it’s Jamie."

Stil confused, Lauren looked at her; then something clicked. "Darcy, what do you mean you kissed her? What kind of kiss was it?"

"Fuck, you want details?"

Lauren smiled. "Sure, if you have them." Her smile widened at the look on Darcy’s face. "What I meant was, was it a friendly kiss on the cheek or something more?"

"More," Darcy mumbled. "The blood drained out of my head."

Lauren’s eyes narrowed in speculation. "I see..."

"Do you? Because I sure as hel don’t. Jesus, it’s Jamie."

"So you keep saying."

Darcy started to pace. "How can I suddenly turn around after al of these years and think ‘wow’?"

How indeed? Lauren thought. "What does Jamie say about it?"

"She doesn’t."

A blond brow went up at that. "You haven’t talk to her about it?"

Darcy’s shoulders hunched. "No."

"Why not? What happened after you kissed?"

"I ran away," Darcy mumbled.

Lauren looked at her, swal owing a laugh. "You what?"

"I-said-I-ran-away." Darcy snarled out each word. She pushed a hand through her hair. "I panicked, and I haven’t talk to her since." She glanced at Lauren who was staring at her, amused. "I know, I know. I just didn’t know how to handle it."

"Wel , running away is probably not the ideal way," Lauren commented dryly.

There was a pause. "I should talk to her?" It was a question.

Lauren smiled at her. "Yep. And Darcy, if you kiss her again and the blood drains out of your head, this time jump her bones."

"Jump her bones? Christ, that’s your advice?"

Lauren had to smile at the look on Darcy’s face. "Wel …yeah." A thought suddenly occurred to Lauren. "Darcy, did she kiss you back?"

***

Darcy final y worked up the nerve a day later. On the drive over, she felt the dampness on her palms, the quickening of her pulse, and had to pul over to the side of the road and stop once to calm herself. Get a grip, it’s just Jamie. We wil probably laugh about it. When she got to Jamie’s house, she sat in her car for another ten minutes. What if she slams the door in my face? Out of options, she final y strode to the door and knocked once. Getting no answer, she tried the door, found it unlocked, and stepped in. She heard the blast of music coming from the back of the house, punctuated by the unmistakable sounds of hammering. She wiped her hands on her jeans and made her way to the kitchen. She froze in the doorway as the blood drained out of her head again, the sight of Jamie almost bringing her to her knees. She was dressed in a black sports bra and faded, ripped jeans that hung low over lean hips.

And each time she swung the mal et, the muscles in her back and shoulders bunched and flexed. Darcy was unnerved to feel the weakness in her knees.

Good God, how did I miss seeing that al these years?

Jamie turned and time stopped. Something flared in Jamie’s eyes, but was quickly banked.

"Hey," Darcy tried. "I hope you are not going to use that on me."

Jamie studied her for a moment, trembling inside as she remembered their kiss. "I’m thinking about it."

Darcy tried not to look at Jamie, fearing that if she did she might start drooling or become incoherent. Instead, she looked around the kitchen. Jamie had ripped out the center island, the counters and cabinets, and was now halfway into tearing down the wal that had separated the kitchen from the dining room. "I see you are opening things up."

Jamie dropped the hammer and bent down to grab a bottle of water from the floor, a fine sheen of perspiration glistening on her skin. Darcy turned and caught Jamie drinking thirstily, swal owed and forced herself to look away. What the hel is wrong with me? I haven’t had sex in way too long. That must be it. She felt the twitching pulsations gathering between her legs and unsettled by her body’s reaction, she pushed a frustrated hand into the front pockets of her jeans. It was unnerving to know that her fingers were not quite steady.

"I’m sorry about the other day," she offered.

That stopped Jamie. "You are?"

"I mean… the kiss. It just happened. It didn’t mean anything…"

"It didn’t?" Jamie repeated, feeling the quick, sharp stab of hurt. That kiss had kept her awake for more than one night. She studied Darcy’s face for a moment, seeing the misery on it. Forcing herself to play it cool, she shrugged. "Okay."

Darcy frowned at Jamie’s easy acceptance of her apology. Wasn’t this what I wanted?

"Want to see what I’ve done?" Jamie asked.

"Sure."

Jamie turned to go, then the room spun. She heard a scream, saw Darcy’s face, the alarm that leapt over it. She thought she saw her mouth move, then Jamie’s vision grayed, white spots dancing through the mist.

"Jamie, Jamie." Someone was stroking her head, her face. Jamie opened her eyes to a blur, so simply closed them again.

"No you don’t." Darcy tapped her cheeks with fingers that trembled slightly. Jamie had gone down like a stone, right after her face had drained of color and her eyes had rol ed back, white. "Open your eyes now."

"What the hel happened?"

"You fainted."

"What?"

"Passed out. Dropped like a sack to the floor. You do that a lot?"

"Nope. Not even when I drink myself into oblivion, which I haven’t done since col ege."

"Can you sit up?"

"Yeah." She sat up, felt a wave of nausea pass, and leaned into Darcy’s arms. "I’m okay. I’l be okay." She said it more to calm her jangling nerves. She saw the concern darkening Darcy’s eyes and smiled at her. The concern fil ed Jamie with warmth, liquid and soft. "I’m real y okay."

"Did you eat today?"

"Yeah. I had cereal. I think..."

"Jesus. I’m going to fix you something. Come on. Can you stand up?" She helped Jamie stagger to her feet. Darcy’s arm wrapped around her waist, taking most of her weight. "Let’s get you to bed."

"I bet you say that to al your girls."

Too shaken up to banter back, Darcy ignored the joke. Her mind replayed the moment when Jamie had dropped in front of her. The white flash of fear dried her throat. Maybe she should cal Madison. Being a doctor she could check her out without appearing to. They went up the stairs and she helped Jamie into bed, shoving the dog to get at the covers. "I’l fix you something to eat. Maybe you should try and get some sleep. Have you been sleeping lately?"

Jamie looked sheepish. "No. I’ve had a few nightmares."

Darcy looked angry. "Why didn’t you cal ?"

"I thought you were avoiding me." Suddenly she was overwhelmed with fatigue and her eyelids drooped.

Darcy shook her head, silently cursing her own stubbornness. "Even if I was pissed with you, which I wasn’t, I would drop everything if you needed me. You should know that by now."

"I thought you were disappointed in me."

That stopped Darcy, she felt her mind scramble for an answer as their eyes met. Her hand reached out to touch Jamie. It was brief, a subtle press of her fingertips against her shoulder. "Disappointed? No, never that."

Jamie closed her eyes, and her mouth curved. "Good to know."

***

"She fainted."

"Whatever happened to people saying ‘Hel o, how are you?’" Madison asked, tongue in cheek.

Darcy sighed heavily into the phone. "Hi, how are you, she fainted."

"Who did?"

"Jamie. One minute she’s talking to me, the next her eyes are rol ing back into her head." It had taken years off her life, she was sure.

"How is she now?"

"Okay, I think. I put her to bed. I don’t think she’s been sleeping or eating or…

"Darcy?" Madison interrupted.

"What?"

"I’m sure she’s fine. I’l drop by to check on her, though."

Darcy had never felt so rattled. "Al right." After hanging up, she lifted her eyes to the ceiling and debated whether or not to go up. Afraid, she stayed put.

For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what she was afraid of.

***

Madison and Lauren showed up a couple of hours later. While Madison went upstairs to check on Jamie, Lauren stayed downstairs with Darcy.

"She scared me," Darcy told her quietly. "I’ve never been scared like that before."

"I’m sure she’s fine, Darcy."

"She dropped to the floor just like that. Jesus." She started to pace as Lauren watched her thoughtful y.

"Did you guys get a chance to talk?"

"Yeah. I told her I was sorry and that the kiss didn’t mean anything. She said okay."

"I see." Lauren tilted her head. "You never did answer me. Did she kiss you back?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just curious."

"Yeah. She kissed me back," Darcy replied reluctantly.

Lauren’s bottom teeth worried her lower lip while she thought. There definitely was something there. Why hadn’t any of them noticed it before? Lauren final y reached over and took Darcy by the arm. "Stop pacing. You’re making me dizzy." Darcy stopped. "Darcy? I’m going to give you just one piece of advice. Don’t run away from this."

Darcy frowned down at her. "From what?"

"This thing with Jamie. Don’t run away from it."

Darcy felt a flicker of panic dance down her spine. "What thing? There’s nothing there."

"If you say so." They stared at each other. "But, Stretch, just try and ignore most of your typical impulses. You might surprise yourself."

"I think I woke up in a paral el universe, because nothing is making sense." Darcy grumbled.

"I know. Isn’t it grand?" Lauren smiled at her. "Not to change the subject, but how was it?"

"How was what?"

"Kissing Jamie."

"Who kissed Jamie?" Madison asked as she made her way back to the living room.

"Darcy did."

Madison stared at Darcy. "You kissed Jamie? When? Is that why she fainted?"

Darcy could feel the blush creep up from her neck and could not do anything to stop it. "No, that’s not why she fainted." She glared at Lauren, who smiled innocently at her. "I’m dreaming; I must be. I’m going to wake up now," Darcy muttered to herself.

Madison grinned at her, wiggling her eyebrows. "So, Stretch, was it any good? Don’t skip any of the details, however smal . Was there any tongue action?

"

Darcy felt her face flame further. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She glared at her friends, who continued to grin back at her. With a huff, she shook her head in frustration. "That does it. I disown both of you. You are no longer my friends. I’m leaving now." She turned to stalk out.

Madison put her tongue firmly in her cheek and winked at her girlfriend. "Hey, Stretch, don’t you want to know how she is?"

Darcy stopped in the doorway. "How is she?" she threw back over her shoulder.

"I think she wil be fine. Too much work, too little food or sleep would be my guess. But someone should probably stay with her tonight, just in case."

That stopped Darcy and concern flashed in her eyes as she turned to look at her friend.

"But I can stay with her," Madison added with a quick grin at Lauren.

Darcy’s hands clenched beside her. She was being tested, she knew. "No, I’l stay."

"If she wakes, get her to eat something. I wouldn’t kiss her right away, though."

"Fuck off."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Darcy couldn’t be sure what woke her. She lay in the darkness, her mind slowly transitioning into wakefulness. Then she heard the sound again. It sounded like a door slamming, and she sat up as it registered that it was the front door. She grabbed at the clothes she’d thrown on the chair and pul ed on her shirt as she made her way to the landing. At the foot of the staircase, light from the outside spil ed into the entryway. The door was open, and as she made her way down, she caught a glimpse of Jamie walking down the drive, and hurried after her. "Jamie!" she cal ed. Jamie turned and looked at her. Darcy’s heart lurched as Jamie stared at her, eyes blank.

"Jamie?" she whispered as she got closer.

Jamie turned away and started walking. "Daddy, I’m going to the pond."

"What pond?" Darcy asked, puzzled. "Jamie, wake up. You’re sleepwalking."

Jamie simply continued to walk away. Darcy moved quickly now, afraid. She stopped Jamie, her hand gentle on her arm. What had she heard about not interfering with sleepwalkers? She tried desperately to think of a way to wake Jamie up. Frantic, afraid, going with instinct, Darcy slipped close to her and gently closed her mouth on Jamie’s. She felt Jamie respond, soft and dreamlike, but then knew the moment Jamie woke up as she felt Jamie’s body stiffen against hers and the texture of the kiss change, become deeper. Darcy forced herself to pul away, though her body cried out for more.

"Hey."

"Darcy?" Jamie looked around and shuddered. She was sleepwalking again. "How did you..." Her voice trailed off when she met the intent look in Darcy’s eyes.

"The front door woke me up. Have you been doing this a lot?"

Jamie rubbed her face with a trembling hand. "I haven’t done this since I was kid. It started again after I moved into this house."

"You were talking in your sleep, too."

"I was?"

"Yeah, you cal ed me ‘dad’."

Jamie started to shake. "I’m sorry. I must be having those nightmares again. I don’t remember." She suddenly looked so lost that Darcy’s heart clenched.

Darcy’s hands were gentle on her shoulders. "It’s okay. Let’s get you inside." She wrapped a hand around Jamie and led her back in.

Inside the house, Darcy fol owed Jamie upstairs. She watched her slip back into bed. Unsure about what to do, she hesitated.

Jamie snuggled under the covers, then looked at her in the doorway. "I’m fine. I don’t usual y do it twice in one night." There was uncertainty in her tone.

Darcy stared at her. To hel with it. She crossed back into the room and grabbed the comforter cover. "Move over."

Jamie looked at her in surprise, but then simply shifted, making room. Darcy pul ed the covers over herself and briefly debated whether or not to take off her shirt. She never slept with clothes on but, unexpectedly nervous, she decided against it and settled beside Jamie. "You don’t snore too, do you?" she asked.

Jamie chuckled. "I don’t think so, but I do kick occasional y."

Darcy raised her eyes to the ceiling. Figures. She turned on her side, her back to Jamie, and tried to relax. "Good night, James."

Jamie stared at the broad back and the auburn hair spil ing over the pil ow and instinctively knew she would sleep al night. She moved closer and fitted herself against the long form. Darcy stiffened at the first feel of her body, but forced herself to relax. "Good night, Darcy." Pressed tightly against Darcy’s back, she was soon asleep. It took some time for Darcy to fol ow suit but final y, with Jamie’s scent wrapped around her, she succumbed to her exhaustion.

The noise pul ed at her, persistent, close by. Darcy stubbornly tried to hold on to sleep but the noise seemed louder now. She struggled awake and lay confused, trying to remember where she was. Jamie. I’m in Jamie’s bed. And Jamie was snoring beside her. I’ve heard of snoring, but this is ridiculous, Darcy thought as the buzz saw started up again. She flipped to her back and ventured a look beside her. Nestled against the pil ow, facing her, was Monster. Sound asleep. There was the guilty party. When he started snoring again, Darcy raised her eyes to the ceiling. For God’s sake, how the hel does she sleep through that racket? She shoved at him but could not budge him. She tried a second time, and he opened one eye and bared his teeth in a very efficient doggie snarl.

"Stop moving," a grumpy voice cal ed out from the other side of the canine.

"I’m trying to move this tank." She shoved at him again. "How the hel do you sleep with his snoring?"

Jamie chuckled. "I’m usual y not sleeping." She sat up and pushed a hand through her tousled blond hair, blinking at Darcy in the darkness. She had to smile at Darcy’s fierce frown. Damn she is cute when she is al sleepy and grumpy. "Monster, off."

He waited a beat but when it looked like she meant it, he stood up very slowly and with a forlorn look at her jumped off the bed. Jamie smiled after him affectionately.

"There you go. The tank is gone."

Darcy watched as the dog slouched out of the room. Satisfied, she turned and caught Jamie’s intent look.

"What?"

Jamie blinked slowly. For a moment, she had had a flash of what her future could look like. And with that flash, something very close to yearning settled in her stomach and tightened her chest. She closed her eyes. "Nothing. Go back to sleep."

Darcy lay back down. "Easy for you to say. That dog hates me."

A hand reached out and pul ed her close. A blond head settled into the curve of her neck, and an arm wrapped itself against her middle. "I’l protect you.

Now be quiet; I stil have some sleep left in me."

Darcy’s body tensed at the feel of Jamie’s body pressing close. Her scent drifted over her and she closed her eyes, assailed by images and needs that left her anxious, unsettled. She felt the twinge of arousal pul at her, the heat flow through her. She recognized the feelings for what they were. It was just biology after al , a chemical reaction to being close to a partial y nude woman. Anyone else triggering those emotions would have had her seeking relief.

Instead she trembled and tried to clear her mind of the memories of what Jamie’s body looked like.

"Relax." The whisper caressed her neck and sent shivers dancing down her skin.

"James…" Darcy felt her heart pound under her skin and would have sworn that Jamie should be able to feel it too.

"Darcy, I want to hold you. Let me."

Darcy’s hand drifted down Jamie’s back and she pul ed her closer, one leg shifting away slightly as she forced herself to relax at the quiet words. This is Jamie. I shouldn’t be feeling this. It was the last thought she had as sleep overtook her once more.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Without talking about it, without acknowledging it in any way, something had shifted between them, and Darcy began to spend more time over at Jamie’s, helping with the renovations. The rest of the wal s downstairs were stripped, repaired and prepped for paint. In the evenings, they pored over paint chips and argued about each one. The old pine flooring upstairs was also exposed and protected now with drop cloths. They spent countless hours in the garden, digging and cutting and planning. Darcy would leave the café early and drive to Jamie’s, usual y with some leftovers from the kitchen. They would sit on the floor and share a meal while planning the changes to the house.

At odd times, Jamie would feel Darcy studying her, feel the heat of her stare. And when that happened, Jamie would feel her body respond to the look, and the surprising ache for Darcy increased. More than once she fought down the urge to crush her mouth against Darcy’s, fought against the itch in her fingers to touch her. This was Darcy. They were friends, for crying out loud. How could she be attracted to her after al of these years? When the throbbing in her body became unbearable as she lay in bed at night, she would let her hand drift down to try and ease the ache. And as she touched herself, she imagined it was Darcy who was touching her. And the instant Darcy’s face appeared behind her eyelids, she would come. She had given up on worrying about the fact that she was lusting after one of her closest friends. She couldn’t begin to understand when or why their relationship had changed. Had it been when Darcy kissed her? Had the kiss been the flashpoint in starting to think about Darcy in a different way? Whatever the start of it, the change had been subtle at first, but somehow over the last few months what she felt for Darcy had altered. Or maybe she had always felt this way. Part of her worried that, as with Lauren, she would go through her life pining for another of her friends. It was not a particularly pleasant thought to have.

***

As she had over the last few weeks, Darcy showed up with a tin foil packet of leftover chicken. She let herself in and fol owed the sound of music. She always knew where Jamie was by the music. It was always blaring somewhere. This time it came from the second floor, and after putting the containers on the kitchen counter, she fol owed it up the stairs. She peeked into the second room from the left and felt her breath leave her with a rush. Jamie was standing on a ladder, arms extended above her as she painted the ceiling. Dressed in cutoff shorts and little else, she was humming to an old tune from the seventies. Monster, who was happily chewing on a corner of the drop cloth, lifted his head, saw Darcy, and sprang into action. The sudden joyful barking had Jamie dropping the brush in surprise as she turned toward the doorway. Darcy bent down to rub Monster’s ears, to stop him from jumping on her with his paint covered paws, when she lifted her eyes and her gaze locked on Jamie.

The hunger in her eyes, for a moment unchecked, slammed into Jamie and the blonde pressed her hand against her suddenly churning stomach. This can’t go on much longer. I wil lose it. She made her way down the ladder and smiled at the auburn beauty.

"Hi."

"I brought food. It’s downstairs," Darcy said, unable to look away.

Jamie studied her. I can’t take this anymore. "Great."

Something in her eyes made Darcy nervous, had her nerves jumping. "I…I should go heat it up." Darcy started to back out of the room.

"Darcy?"

"What?" The tone was wary.

Acting impulsively, Jamie crossed to her and, reaching up, closed her mouth on Darcy’s. If Jamie’s passion had been simmering she’d concealed it wel .

It seemed to explode in one blinding white flash of heat that came from nowhere.

Shaken, Darcy drew back, trying to judge her own reaction, fighting to keep her own needs in perspective.

Jamie stared up at her, her breath coming in jerks. Her mind was reeling and she shook her head as if to clear it. Just as she began to draw her first coherent thought Darcy swore and crushed her mouth to Jamie’s again. A thousand warnings jangled in Darcy’s brain and were ignored. For one reckless moment she gave herself over to the heat, to the need, to the yearning. She changed the angle of the kiss, deepened it.

"That’s something to think about, al right," Jamie commented quietly as they pul ed away slowly. "Let’s go eat." She was pleased that her legs were stil supporting her as she walked out of the room.

Darcy stared after the departing back and knew that she was in trouble - Jamie was kil ing her by inches. Darcy knew what it was to want a woman, to have one stir blood and spin images in the mind. It could be a kind of hunger that slowly churned in the stomach, gnawing there until it was final y satisfied.

But now she carried Jamie’s taste inside. And knew, watching her go, that she wouldn’t rid herself of it. That alone was infuriating, not to mention scary.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The rain continued al morning, soft, slow, steady. It brought a chil , and a gloom that spread over the day. Clouds hung low, turning everything to different shades of gray. Darcy sat on the covered porch watching Jamie, bundled in a hooded windbreaker, return from taking Monster for his morning run. The rain had darkened her hair and the dark blue sweats she wore stuck to her like a second skin. As she jogged lightly up to the porch, dripping wet, cheeks pink from her run, Darcy thought she couldn’t possibly look more seductive. It annoyed her. Just remembering her response to Jamie’s kiss infuriated her.

It felt too much like weakness. She had left Jamie’s the night before, unsettled, stomach in knots, trying to pretend she did not want to feel Jamie’s mouth on hers again. To top off her mad, Jamie had been nonchalant the rest of the evening as if she wasn’t bothered by their kiss at al . As Jamie climbed up the steps, Darcy sat scowling at her.

"Hi." Jamie smiled as she pushed back the hood from her face. She was stil holding on to Monster’s leash, trying to stop him from jumping on Darcy. If she was surprised to see Darcy out and about so early in the morning, it didn’t show. Monster shook himself free and was inches away from welcoming Darcy by putting his wet muddy paws on her when Darcy growled at him. He sat down at her feet with a whine, his whole back end shaking uncertainly.

Jamie raised an amused eyebrow. "Very effective. Do you practice that?" Darcy just frowned at her. Jamie shrugged, unperturbed, too accustomed to Darcy’s moods to take offense. She took her keys and unlocked the front door, then stepped inside. Monster fol owed her in, making a beeline for the kitchen where he knew breakfast would be waiting.

Darcy remained on the porch, undecided. For the life of her she couldn’t remember why she had come over. She tried to dissect the reasons for her confusion, her indecision. Was it the kiss? She wouldn’t cal the kiss they’d shared uncomplicated. There had been layers to it, and she for one was in no mood to peel away at them.

Raindrops hissed on the roof and at the windows and she felt the dampness against her skin. Jamie’s sudden reappearance in the doorway had her staring, without the ability to marshal a thought in her head. Al she could do was stand there on the covered porch looking cold and miserable. Jamie’s mouth curved at the sudden fierce look in Darcy’s eyes.

"Are you going to come in?"

Darcy frowned. It seemed almost contradictory that such a calm-eyed, smooth-voiced woman could explode with passion. Yet she had. Except now she acted as if nothing had happened. Did that mean that the kiss had meant nothing to her - so that Jamie could calmly ask her in without a worry? Maybe it was best if she avoided Jamie, kept some distance. For the time being. She made as if to leave and Jamie frowned at her.

"Stretch? Where are you going?"

Darcy stopped at the top step. She glanced at her, then away. "Home, I guess."

"I just put some coffee on, why don’t you stay and warm up first."

Darcy hesitated and Jamie stepped onto the porch, her eyes fixed questioningly on her. Blushing under the cool gray stare, Darcy suddenly felt foolish.

Hel , if Jamie can handle it so can I. She gave up.

"Okay."

When Darcy turned to go inside, Jamie stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Things have changed between us."

"Yes. Yes, they have."

"Right or wrong, we’l finish it," she added quietly.

"No." Darcy was far from calm. "If it’s right, we’l finish it. I’m not going to pretend I don’t want you, but right now I’m not ready to deal with this, whatever this is."

Jamie gave her a quick, unsmiling look before she turned away to go inside.

"Apparently it is something we both have to get used to."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Two weeks later, to celebrate Alex’s birthday, their group had unanimously decided that it was high time for a night of dancing, of letting the tensions burn away under throbbing lights and loud music. It happened rarely, but when the mood struck they knew to grab the moment. On the night in question, they made plans to gather at a dance club and a little after nine that evening, four of them settled around a booth in the back with a view of the dance floor.

Jamie arrived a little later than everyone else. Alex, her arm casual y around Megan, was laughing at Madison when a stil ness came over the group and Alex tensed, almost in anticipation. Then Lauren’s face split into a wide smile and she hurried to the door where Jamie stood hesitating.

"I’m so glad you decided to come."

Alex turned slowly and her smile was tentative as Jamie walked toward them. "Hi."

"Hi, yourself." Jamie bent down to hug her. "Happy birthday."

Alex’s grasp was tight, then she pul ed away and looked into her friend’s eyes. I’ve missed you, she thought, but could not bring herself to say it out loud.

Their eyes met as the rest of the group tried hard to pretend they weren’t staring at the former partners. The awkwardness between them was stil there; the change in their friendship stil hurt, but for tonight it would be pushed aside.

Someone ordered a round of drinks and the party took on a giddy feel.

"Where’s Darcy?" Jamie’s eyes searched the room.

Madison shrugged. "I think something blew up in the kitchen. She is running late and... Wel , speaking of the devil…"

Something almost electric surged through the bar as Darcy stood framed in the doorway. She had worn her hair loose, and it flowed down to her back in a wild auburn mass; the crisp white shirt, faded jeans and tan suede boots were casual y elegant. But there was something more to her, a sexual energy that just flowed from her as she strode to them, oblivious or not caring about the interest she was generating.

Jamie’s breath caught at the effect and she blinked once. Darcy’s eyes moved restlessly over the crowd until they settled on Jamie. When their eyes met, Jamie felt as if her entire body liquefied under the stare. "Jesus," she whispered, forcing herself to look away. She reached out with a trembling hand for her beer and took a long swal ow. Her agitation was not lost on Lauren who sat beside her, watching them both thoughtful y.

***

Darcy had danced on and off the entire night with everyone except Jamie, who was trying hard to ignore her. But that was a difficult thing to do. Darcy danced with a wild, erotic abandon that made everyone who saw her want to get closer to the flame. When she crossed back to the table after another dance, Madison grinned up at her.

"You know, Stretch, you should try and bottle that stuff. It has the potency of Viagra."

Darcy shook her head at her. "Moron." Her eyes tried to catch Jamie’s, but again were unable to. Jamie was, it seems, particularly interested in her beer label. "Anyone need a drink?" Darcy asked. They al declined. Darcy turned and made her way through the crowd. She leaned casual y against the bar and placed her order. A young androgynous brunette with a superbly toned body shifted closer to her. Their eyes met and Darcy smiled automatical y.

Watching from the table, Jamie saw the maneuver and was vaguely irritated by it. She finished her drink with a gulp and stood up abruptly. "I need another." No one paid any attention to her and she crossed the dance floor, elbowing through the crowd until she got to the bar. She got there just in time to see the brunette put her hand on Darcy’s arm and lean in close to whisper something.

Darcy smiled and was about to decline the offer, when her eyes caught Jamie’s glare. An eyebrow shot up in question, but Jamie looked away. Darcy turned to the young woman and again smiled. "Thanks for the offer, perhaps some other time." Thus dismissing the brunette, Darcy grabbed her glass and moved to where Jamie stood waiting for her drink. Jamie tried to ignore her but Darcy’s bracketed both her arms on either side of her, effectively trapping her.

"Problem?"

Jamie shifted away from the lean body. "No. You?"

"No." Darcy shifted, closer testing them both. She grinned when Jamie shifted away again. The bartender placed the beer bottle in front of Jamie. Just as Jamie’s hand closed on it, Darcy’s hand encircled her wrist. Under her thumb Jamie’s pulse started to race.

"Come dance with me. You’re the only one I haven’t danced with."

Jamie resisted. "No thanks. I’m not in the mood. Why don’t you ask your young friend?" She nodded toward the brunette who was stil staring at Darcy.

"Who?" Darcy fol owed Jamie’s motion. "I’d rather dance with you. Why won’t you? Are you afraid?"

"What? Don’t be ridiculous." There was a chal enge in Darcy’s look that had Jamie wanting to grab a fistful of clothing to drag her close and assuage her craving. "Oh, for crying it out loud! Have it your way."

Jamie marched to the dance floor ahead of her. The gods would not, of course, cooperate, and as soon as she hit the middle of the floor, the music changed. The tempo slowed, the lights dimmed, and the dancers quickly paired themselves off. Darcy looked at her, arrogance in the way her eyebrow rose that set Jamie’s teeth on edge. She would not back down now.

They moved closer, arms loosely holding each other, and started to slowly shift with the music. Jamie could smel the light fragrance that seemed so much a part of Darcy. Seduced by it, as if it had a wil of its own, Jamie’s body leaned in closer. She felt rather than saw Darcy’s swift intake of breath. So, she is not as cool and calm as she pretends to be. That pleased Jamie. In a way, testing herself as much as Darcy, she pressed closer until they were hip to hip, until a hard thigh rubbed against a muscled leg. Their feet now barely moving, they swayed in place.

Darcy’s long fingers reflexively pressed her closer, and she felt her nipples harden at the feel of Jamie’s body against hers. She was sure that Jamie must be able to feel them.

Jamie could feel Darcy’s heart beating against hers, quick now, and not too steady. Her eyes closed, and for a moment she let herself enjoy the sensations dancing along her spine as she felt Darcy pul her closer. Jamie had held Darcy this close before, but tonight everything felt different. Where before there had been comfort, now there was heat. Jamie wanted to smile, to make some light, easy comment. But she couldn’t push the words out; her throat was locked. The way Darcy was looking at her now- as if Jamie was the only woman she had ever seen or ever wanted to see - made her forget that the dance was supposed to be a gesture of friendship.

When Jamie’s hand drifted up to curl against her neck, Darcy groaned. At the sound, Jamie smiled, pleased.

Madison, watching from the table, turned back to the group. "Weird as this al is, ten bucks says they do it tonight."

Alex turned with a frown and studied the swaying couple. She shook her head. "I say they don’t make it out of the parking lot. I say they do it in the car."

Lauren, who had been watching them for a while, grinned. "They are both stubborn ladies. I say it won’t happen tonight."

Megan frowned at them and wondered briefly if that was why things had been awkward between Alex and Jamie. "I can’t believe you’re betting on them doing it or not. Since when is this even a possibility? What have I been missing?"

Madison shrugged at her with a grin. "Look at them. They are practical y engulfed in flames. It’s bizarre to see it between the two of them, but there it is.

One can’t ignore the scientific evidence." The smile she directed at Lauren was slow and easy. "Besides, anything is possible."

Megan turned and looked. Sure enough, the way the two were dancing had even her feeling the heat. She shifted with a sigh and then slapped a twenty on the table. "I say they kiss here tonight."

Unaware of the interest they were garnering, Jamie and Darcy continued to torture themselves as they moved against each other. Maybe it was wrong, but it didn’t seem to matter as they glided across the floor. Jamie didn’t even try to think, never attempted to reason, as she pressed her mouth along the curve of Darcy’s neck.

Darcy almost whimpered at the feel of Jamie’s mouth on her skin, her control threatening to slip. Darcy shifted back slightly and they stared at each other, oblivious to the couples bumping into them as they stopped dancing. The blue of Darcy’s eyes seem to deepen and she inched closer. "James, I..."

Just as quickly, the tempo changed again, the lights brightened, and the mood was shattered. They pul ed away reluctantly, eyes stil locked. Something shifted inside of Darcy. A yearning so huge that it left her trembling as she stared at Jamie. I have to get out of here or I’l make a fool of myself, she thought, and without another word left the dance floor. She crossed back to her friends and grabbed her jacket, hoping to sneak away without anyone noticing.

"Going somewhere?" Alex smirked.

Darcy frowned at her. "Yeah. I got to go close up the bar." It was a lie, but the only thing she could think of.

Madison broke away from nibbling on Lauren’s neck. "What’s this about you leaving?"

Now everyone was staring at her. Darcy almost snarled. "I’ve got to go, you guys. I’l catch you later." She could sense their amusement and had a sneaking suspicion that it was at her expense. She fled, leaving Jamie staring after her.

Jamie’s eyes met Lauren’s, who smiled encouragingly. Jamie shrugged and took a sip of her drink. Inside, she was angry, frustrated, hot and bothered.

The damn fool.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

A couple of hours later, Jamie walked into the café and it was as if Darcy sensed her. She turned and their eyes locked. Darcy felt her heart stutter at the look in Jamie’s eyes. The grey eyes had shifted to slate, and her look was smoldering. Jamie slowly walked to her without breaking eye contact.

"Why is it that you always seem to run away from me?"

"What? You’re crazy. I don’t run away." Darcy forced herself to look away.

"No? Then why didn’t you say goodbye tonight?"

"I was running late." Even to her ears it sounded lame.

Jamie studied her with a faint smile. "You know, I think I just figured it al out tonight. You’re afraid."

"Give me a fucking break." Darcy ignored her as she continued to count the receipts. Inside she was shaking.

Jamie smiled. "Yeah, that’s your answer for everything. And yet...you were watching me tonight, the way I was watching you."

Darcy slammed the cash register shut. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I might have looked at you once or twice."

"Wanting me. The way I was wanting you. And more. There’s more than the wanting between us."

Darcy’s mouth would have fal en open if she hadn’t been so busy sneering. "Please. You’l embarrass yourself. There’s nothing…" Too busy sneering, Darcy hadn’t noticed how close Jamie was. She gasped when Jamie’s mouth crushed down on hers. Hungrily their mouths moved together, and Darcy groaned as she felt the tip of Jamie’s tongue savor her lips. Emotions funneled from one to the other, then merged in a torrent of need.

"If it was just this, just the heat, you wouldn’t be so scared," Jamie told her, pul ing away out of breath.

"I’m not afraid." If only it were so simple, Darcy thought as desire grew. But she knew instinctively that once begun it wouldn’t be simple, not for either of them.

"Sooner or later, Darcy, we wil have to deal with it." Satisfied that she had made her point, Jamie turned and started toward the door. Darcy stood staring at her, stung by her words. Her control, too long held, snapped with a very loud crack. It was as if a switch had been flicked on. She tossed the receipts aside and with long strides ate up the space between them. She slapped her right hand against the door Jamie was opening, slamming it shut.

Startled, Jamie turned and her eyes met the suddenly fierce blue. She knew to be momentarily alarmed. Darcy’s mouth closed on hers, her tongue stroking deep, tasting the wet heat within. Earlier, when they’d first kissed, Jamie had sensed the volcano inside of Darcy. Now as it erupted around her, she was rocked by the power, the dark violence of it. Jamie’s hands grabbed at Darcy, pul ing the long length of her close. The heat, the scent of the woman swam into her senses until she was steeped in the sensations, and Jamie knew that she had lost control. So this is what drives people to mad, desperate acts, she thought as their tongue tangled.

Darcy forced herself to pul away. "Are you sure?" she whispered.

"No. But if we don’t do something soon, I wil combust on the spot and my head wil explode."

That pul ed a smile from Darcy. Their fingers intertwined and silently they made their way upstairs. Inside the apartment, Darcy turned to Jamie and gave a shaky laugh. "Fuck, I’m nervous."

Jamie smiled at her. "You too? My legs are shaking."

"If you want to change your mind..." Darcy offered, suddenly shy.

Jamie studied her, then had to smile. What a pair we are. "Darcy, I can honestly say that I have never wanted anyone so badly in my entire life. I’m weak with wanting you. I have no idea where it has come from, but if you don’t touch me soon I won’t be responsible for my actions."

"What if it alters our friendship?" Darcy asked as she stepped closer. "Maybe neither of us is ready for that."

"It already has. I look at you and want to tear off your clothes. Not necessarily a feeling that should exist between friends, you think?"

Darcy might have chuckled, if she could have found the breath for it. But her lungs were clogged and her head had already started to reel. Where had this feeling been al of her life? How much more had she missed?

Darcy’s hand closed against the back of Jamie’s head and pul ed it close. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, noses almost touching.

Then Darcy bridged the gap and kissed her, her mouth impossibly soft against Jamie’s.

"Oh my God, your mouth drives me insane," Jamie groaned as her lips parted and she pressed harder against Darcy. She swal owed Darcy’s smile as she took the lead, and their mouths toyed and savored the sensations of lips against lips. Darcy’s hand brushed against the soft curve of Jamie’s breast and felt the nipple strain against the material. Jamie’s breath caught in her throat. This is Darcy kissing me, touching me, she thought with wonder, then her mind emptied as Darcy pul ed her shirt from the waistband of her jeans, ripping it free from the buttons in her haste for her hands could final y touch skin. When Darcy’s thumb stroked the hardening bud of her nipple, Jamie almost cried out. She had never felt such want, almost a physical ache.

"Darcy...Darcy I need to feel you," she whispered urgently. Darcy stared at her and then with a low growl, so quickly that Jamie had no time to react, she lifted her into her arms. Jamie wrapped her long legs around Darcy’s waist and her mouth was hot and urgent as it closed on Darcy’s. "Hurry," Jamie whispered. Darcy stumbled down the hal way to her bedroom and to the bed, and threw her down. Jamie laughed at the crazed, wild look in the blue eyes, her body already ready, tugging off her shirt as Darcy dragged her own up. Divested of their clothing, breath ragged, they stared at each other. Whatever shock there was, was on both sides.

Darcy stood looking down at her, a suddenly sober look on her face. "You are breathtaking."

Jamie smiled at her as her eyes fil ed with the vision in front of her. The tal , auburn haired woman was stunning, her toned body awe-inspiring. "And you look like al of the fantasies I have ever had."

Darcy knelt above her and slowly fitted her lean hips snugly between Jamie’s accepting legs. As they rocked against each other, their eyes locked. The heat was now a slowly spreading flame, the earlier frenzy quieting to a gentle pulsing. Their mouths met again and again. Darcy gently bit down on Jamie’s lower lip, sucking on it, drawing a quiet moan from the blonde.

Greedy hands stroked her back and gripped her rear, pul ing her closer. Jamie’s knee gently nudged Darcy’s legs apart and she gasped when she felt Darcy’s wetness against her thigh. Jamie’s hands caressed and stroked and heated the skin above her, then one index finger found the silky wetness.

Feeling her body shudder at the soft touch, Darcy groaned, "Feel what you do to me."

Jamie’s finger gathered more of the wetness. "I did this? Christ, you feel so good."

Darcy shifted slightly so that her mouth could savor the tender skin of Jamie’s shoulders. She was at once familiar and not. Jamie’s scent was familiar, but the taste and texture of her skin was different, unknown. When Darcy’s tongue swirled around a hard nipple, she heard Jamie’s quiet moan bubble up from deep inside. The sound was new and sent need coursing through Darcy. A need to hear more, to feel and taste more. Moved by that need, there was reverence in the way her mouth and hands caressed Jamie’s body. Finding with her mouth what pleased Jamie, her ears attuned to every change of breath - the quiet catch when she nibbled, the low moan when her fingers stroked. When her mouth final y closed wet and hot on a nipple, Jamie’s body arched into the touch.

"Darcy..." Jamie groaned, an urgent whisper in her head. Not yet. Not yet. She’d never been more aware of herself, nor more distanced from rational thought.

Forcing herself to go slow, Darcy sat back, looking down at Jamie as her fingers trailed along the curve of a perfect breast. "Jesus, James, you are absolutely beautiful."

The hunger in her eyes sent a fresh wave of arousal spinning through Jamie. Jamie’s fingertip traced the tattoo on Darcy’s hipbone, just above the panty line. "What’s this?"

"That’s my dragon; he guards the gates." She closed her eyes as Jamie’s thumb stroked her tattoo, the touch tantalizing. "Wil I be al owed through?"

Jamie whispered as her fingers traced soft circles that inched closer to the heat.

Darcy was trembling, and wasn’t ready to tremble. The blue eyes deepened in color, flashed fire. "Jamie, I need to taste you. I need to see you come."

Jamie groaned at the words, unbelievably turned on. Her hands grabbed at Darcy’s shoulders and pul ed her back down.

Darcy traced a finger over her, watching her face in the moonlight as Jamie’s eyes closed and her lips trembled on a groan. And when Darcy slid her tongue inside her, into the hot, wet velvet of her, Jamie arched up, crying out, "Oh my God, Darcy. Oh my God."

It drove Darcy mad. Pressing her face into the wet silk, Darcy sent her flying. It burst into Jamie, sent her hurtling helplessly. Darcy pressed her tongue flat and felt the muscles contract against it. She held it there and watched Jamie shatter. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Unable to stop the tremors that coursed through her, Jamie gulped once, twice, trying to stop herself from fal ing apart. Because as she peaked, she knew with absolute clarity that she was in love with Darcy. Her body was a mass of aching, of joy, with the sharp edge of her discovery slicing through her like a bolt of light. Her hands pul ed Darcy close. "Come here. Jesus, come here." Darcy settled her long frame over her, her mouth impossibly soft against Jamie’s jaw line, on her mouth. The ripe scent of passion covered both of them so that their skin was slick and hot. Jamie started to move under her and Darcy fol owed her lead as their eyes met.

They tumbled to the edge together, unhurried as their mouths met then retreated and their bodies set the tempo. Have I ever been affected by anyone like this before? Darcy wondered as she clung to that slippery line of control. This wild, painful pleasure, once tasted would never be forgotten, would always be craved. Jamie’s legs wrapped around her and pushed up against her. Darcy gasped as at the same time Jamie’s fingers slid deep into her. They kept their eyes on each other as they moved at an almost lazy pace that spread pleasure. Darcy buried her face against Jamie’s throat as the heat spread.

Jamie couldn’t say how long they moved together —minutes, hours. But Jamie would never forget how Darcy’s eyes opened and stared into hers as the auburn haired woman tumbled over.

"Jamie..." It was said helplessly, on a half sob, as Darcy let herself fly.

***

The buzzing persisted, and with a groan Jamie grabbed at the noise. "’Lo."

"Darcy?" Lauren’s voice was uncertain.

"No."

"Jamie?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, hi. It’s Lauren. Is Darcy there?"

"Mmmhmm." Jamie passed the phone to Darcy who lay sprawled next to her.

"Yeah?"

"Darcy is everything okay? You left so quickly last night."

"I’m fine. Everything’s fine." She hissed when she felt Jamie’s fingers stroke her.

"I...I gotta go Lauren. I’l cal you later." Darcy hung up, then threw the telephone on the floor. She turned to Jamie, who started to laugh at the look on Darcy’s face.

"Problem?"

"You drive me crazy, Jamie. Absolutely, mind blowing crazy."

"Good." Jamie smiled, feeling smug. Her eyes widened in shock when with one quick move Darcy had her tongue buried so deep inside of her that Jamie thought Darcy could touch her heart. Jamie cried out as the orgasm slammed into her with such force she screamed out. "My God! What the hel are you doing to me?" Jamie whispered shakily as she was final y able to focus.

Darcy took Jamie’s hand and placed it between her legs where her wetness coated Jamie’s fingers. "Same thing you do to me," she whispered hoarsely.

Bemused Lauren hung up the telephone. Madison looked up from the newspaper as the silence stretched. "Everything okay?"

"I think I owe you ten dol ars."

***

A few hours later, Darcy went downstairs to check on the bar, leaving a sleeping Jamie behind. She was also madly hoping to sweet talk her chef into making a special breakfast order for them. She opened the door that led into the café and stepped into her past.

"Baby!" Maggie Murphy threw open her arms.

Sluggish with shock, Darcy was unable to move before they wrapped around her like chains. Trapped, she was assaulted with impressions. Too much perfume that didn’t quite cover the smel of stale smoke and vodka, the bony form honed down by years of hard living.

And through it al seeped her own dark dread.

"I was just on my way up. The nice man at the bar said I might stil find you there. Why, I’m so glad to catch you." The voice was a bright bubble that bounced and jerked in the air. "Let me just look at you. I swear you get prettier every time I see you. Baby, I just have to sit down a minute and catch my breath. I’m just so excited to see you, I can hardly stand it."

She talked too fast, Darcy noted, her eyes and smile were too bright. She was drunk or high again.

"Look what you have done with this place!" Maggie dropped into a chair. "I just love it. Suits you, baby. It sure does suit you."

At fifty-four, Maggie’s faced showed the wear from too much liquor, too many pil s and too much of life’s disappointments.

Darcy stepped around her and behind the bar. "What do you want?"

"Why, to see you, of course." Maggie let out a smal laugh that grated. "What a thing to ask; can’t a mother want to see her only child every once in a while?"

Disgust rol ed through her and Darcy clung to it. Better disgust than the despair that crept along just beneath it. "I have to work."

"Oh now, you can take a little while for your own mother. After al , you own the place. I’m so proud of you honey, al grown up and running your own business. Doing so wel for yourself, too," she continued as she looked around the room.

Darcy caught the look and the calculation in it. It tightened her chest, and stiffened her spine. "I told you the last time you cal ed, it was the last time. You won’t get any more money from me."

"Why do want to hurt my feelings like that?" Maggie widened her eyes as they fil ed with tears. "I just want to visit my little girl."

"I’m not your little girl," Darcy said dul y. "Yours in particular."

"Don’t be mean, honey, after I’ve come al this way from New York to see you. I know I haven’t been a good mother to you, baby, but I’m going to make it up." Maggie jumped up and crossed to the bar. "I made some mistakes, I know I did." Maggie’s voice rang with apology, with regret. The tears flowed.

"You got to understand, I was just so young when you came along. I didn’t have a clue."

"You’ve used that one up."

Maggie dug into her black purse, pul ed a tissue. "Why you want to be so hard on your mother? Why you wanna hurt my heart? People make mistakes."

"You don’t have a heart. And you’re not my mother. You just gave birth to me that’s al ."

Sorrow drained away as fast as it had been summoned. "Carried you inside of me for nine months, didn’t I?"

"And left me within a year."

"I was seventeen."

It was that, the sad fact of it that had caused Darcy to make room, time and time again, in her heart. Until her heart had simply calcified from the blows.

"You haven’t been seventeen in quite a while. Neither have I. I’m not going to waste my time arguing about it. I have to work, and you have to go."

"But, baby." Panicked, Maggie shifted back to the teary, choked voice. "You’ve got to give me a chance to make things right. I’m going to get me a job. I can work for you a while, won’t that be fun? It wil give us a chance to catch up. To learn to be friends."

"No, you won’t work for me, and no, you can’t stay here. I made that mistake four years ago and you stole from me. I don’t repeat my mistakes."

"I was sick back then. I don’t drink anymore. I swear. You can’t just turn me out." She held her hands, palms up, in a gesture of pleading. "I’ve been sick, real sick and had to get some medication. Those damn doctors cost a lot. I can’t afford health insurance. I’m broke."

Darcy looked at her mother, seeing in the bloated features a resemblance that fed her disgust. She had been pretty once. Resigned, Darcy walked to the cash register and counted out fifty dol ars. She tried to ignore the pul to the heart. "Here." She stuffed it into her mother’s hand. "Take this, get on a bus back to New York or ride it as far as this takes you. Don’t come back here again. There’s no place for you here."

"You can’t be so mean to me, baby. You can’t be so cold."

"Yes, I can." Darcy walked to the door and opened it and stepped aside, she then turned to her mother. "It’s in the blood. Take the fifty. It’s al you are going to get. And get out, or I swear to God, I’l throw you out."

Maggie marched to the door. The money had already disappeared into her purse. She stopped, gave Darcy one last look. "I never wanted you, you know."

She knew. "Then we’re even. I never wanted you, either." She shut the door in her mother’s face. Then flipped the locks, sat down on the floor and started to cry.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Jamie became aware of the silence and for a moment puzzled over it. It slowly registered on her sleepy brain that this morning, the quiet had not been interrupted by barking or a wet nose pressed against her bare back. Startled by that recognition she sat up, and the previous night and earlier morning came flooding back. Darcy. She was at Darcy’s. Feeling the pleasant lethargy in her legs, she leaned back against the pil ow and and could not stop the smile from drifting across her face. She looked at the sheets tossed at the foot of the bed, their clothing carelessly dropped on the floor, and felt the heat return as images of their night together flooded back vividly. Then her heart stuttered as she also remembered the truth uncovered: she was in love with Darcy. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. She pounded the pil ow then hugged it against her as her stomach took a deep, diving dip. Her smile was replaced with a worried frown. How was she going to handle that? The thought of that squeezed her heart with a mixture of wild pleasure, hope and fear.

But where was Darcy? How could she leave her without a word? Had she left her this morning in order to avoid dealing with what had happen? It wouldn’t surprise her if that was in fact the case. Darcy had never been particularly good at sticking around when the moment got too touchy-feely.

She pondered with nervous uncertainty the change in their relationship. Maybe Darcy was regretting everything and was now hiding downstairs, hoping she would leave without confronting her. Her mouth firmed with embarrassment. She hated feeling insecure and vulnerable. She swung her legs around and looked for something to put on, grabbing the blue bathrobe that was thrown over the back of a chair in the corner and padding out of the bedroom.

The robe smel ed like Darcy, and she felt the want for her tangle with her annoyance.

She was about to go to the kitchen to try and scrounge up a cup of coffee when she heard the key jingle against the door. Her heart jumped and she was unable to stop the relief and the sheer joy of the moment from spreading.

When she caught sight of Jamie, Darcy froze in the doorway and for a moment there was awkwardness. Darcy wasn’t so certain she’d smoothed away the edges by the time she made her way back upstairs. She had taken extra time to recover by going for a short drive. She was determined not to acknowledge the grief that had slashed its way into her heart despite the locks.

"You’re up." Darcy interjected into the strained silence, then cursed silently as a blush crept over her face.

"Yeah, I was about to go search for coffee."

Darcy stepped in and closed the door behind her. In her hand she carried a white paper bag. She lifted it up with a wry grin. "Already ahead of you. I also got you some fresh croissants." She had given up on the idea of trying to cajole her chef into feeding them, the confrontation with her mother having made her lose her appetite. Seeing Maggie was a hard reminder of the promise Darcy had made to herself: to succeed, on her own terms; to live precisely how she chose to live, and never, never to place her hopes, her needs, her wants in the hands of another. She fought to hide her misery from the searching gray eyes and instead sidestepped it neatly by crossing back to the kitchen.

Undecided, Jamie stood watching her retreat, feeling disappointment spread. She was now convinced that Darcy regretted everything. She can’t even look me in the face.

Darcy returned and caught the worried look on her face, but misread it. Suddenly feeling shy, she handed her a coffee. She cleared her throat then with shoulders hunched admitted softly, "I went out this morning and grabbed your beast." It was hard to remember her promises when Jamie looked like she belonged here in her home.

The soft admission startled Jamie and she turned to stare at her. "You did?"

The look of tenderness that crossed her face had Darcy shifting from foot to foot. "He’s downstairs getting a treat." She shrugged embarrassed. "I figured you might worry about him."

Jamie smiled at her, touched by the thoughtful gesture. Darcy missed it as she turned to fiddle with the col ar of her shirt. After placing her cup on the smal table, Jamie crossed to her and wrapped her arms tight around the tal woman. Darcy’s arms automatical y circled around to hold her. Their eyes met then and Jamie’s thumb softly traced her jaw line. "Are you sorry?" She held her breath waiting for the answer.

Darcy didn’t pretend she didn’t understand the question. She stared back at her for a moment, into the warm gray. "No. You?"

Jamie shook her head. "No."

Stil they continued to stare at each other, almost uncertain as to what should be the next move until Darcy closed the gap and kissed her. They kissed, eyes open watching each other until the kiss deepened and changed, the texture of it becoming more urgent. They pul ed away, reluctant to break the moment.

"It’s stil there," Darcy whispered.

"Oh, yeah. I’m not over it yet." Jamie grinned as she felt the arousal triggered by the kiss warm her. She would worry about her heart later. But not now.

"Me either. Listen James, I do have to work this afternoon but maybe later, if you’re free, we could…" Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

Her offer warmed Jamie. "I have some work to do around the house, but why don’t you come by later?" Jamie offered. They smiled at each other, then Jamie watched Darcy’s eyes deepen and change as they raked over her.

"You look good in my robe."

"It smel s like you."

"Does it?" Darcy reached over and her hand fisted in the front of the robe and pul ed Jamie closer. She kissed her, but because of the time had to be satisfied with a mind numbing kiss that left Jamie weakly holding on.

"Jesus, Darcy where in the world did you learn to kiss like that?"

"Little Timmy McAl ister, fourth grade," Darcy replied with a soft laugh. "The rest is just inspiration. I guess you inspire me, James."

Jamie’s mouth curved at that. "Good to know."

***

As she sanded the steps of her front porch, Jamie wore jeans faded to white at the stress points and a bright blue sweater with the sleeves rol ed up to her elbows. She had kept busy al day, trying to keep her mind from venturing too often toward Darcy. It worried her, this sudden certainty about her feelings for her. It bothered her that her day - as ful as it was - had been taken up with thoughts of their night together, of the way she had looked at her when Jamie left for home. It scared her that she had no idea how Darcy felt or how long she would stick around. More terrifying was the thought of losing their friendship if it didn’t work out.

Frustrated with the direction her thoughts had taken, she stood up and threw the sand paper down. She blew out a breath and her eyes narrowed against the setting sun as she saw the familiar red car turn onto her street. She didn’t like the way her heart stuttered and started to race either. Her mouth turned down in annoyance. Damn it, I am completely losing control. Then Darcy stepped out of the car and flashed her that familiar wicked grin, and Jamie forgot about being worried or annoyed.

Darcy crossed to her and her eyes were a vivid blue as they very slowly took a survey of Jamie’s body. By the time her eyes reached Jamie’s face, Jamie was shaking.

"You keep looking at me like that and I swear I won’t be responsible for my actions."

Darcy continued to look at her. "Like what?"

Jamie smiled at her, pul ed off her sweater and threw it on the porch. When she reached for the top button of her jeans, Darcy felt the muscles in her stomach clench. Jamie continued to smile at her as the button was loosened. Darcy felt the blood roaring in her ears as she crossed the driveway with her eyes locked on Jamie’s fingers.

"I want to do that," Darcy said hoarsely as she stepped onto the porch and her hand stopped Jamie’s movement.

Giving her one long look Jamie turned and stepped back into the house. "Coming?" she asked Darcy over her shoulder.

"Almost there," Darcy muttered.

***

"What’s going on with you and Jamie?"

"What? Nothing. Just hanging out. Having fun," Darcy answered defensively.

"Mmm…" Lauren, who had stopped in at the café with the intention of finding as many of the details from Darcy as she could pul out of her, continued watching her.

"What? What are you thinking?"

Lauren smiled blandly. "Nothing. Friends often have sex together."

The blue eyes flashed. "It’s not like that, Lauren."

The anger pleased Lauren but she kept her face careful y blank. "No? How is it then? You are having sex right?"

"Yes. No," Darcy frowned as she felt the blush warm her cheeks. "We are enjoying each other and I don’t want to jinx it by talking about it."

Lauren looked at her. Darcy tried to avoid her eyes. After a beat she met them with a sigh. Lauren smiled, seeing more in those blue eyes than she ever thought possible. Her fingers touched Darcy’s hand. "I’m glad Darcy."

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

As soon as Darcy opened the door, she heard it and winced. This time Abba was blasting through Jamie’s house. For a moment, standing in the doorway, Darcy thought of turning right around and leaving, unable, and unwil ing to cope with anymore of the 1970’s. The need to see Jamie overruled her abhorrence. Frustrated that Jamie seemed to have control of her thoughts and needs, she sighed heavily as she climbed up to the second floor, fol owing the music.

"You have got to change decades, Saunders, I beg of you."

Jamie, busy painting baseboards in the spare room, turned with a grin.

"Never. My house, my music." She brandished a paint brush, her smile teasing. "Do you want to fight about it again?"

Darcy’s mouth curved, tempted. The idea was appealing but she was wearing her favorite jeans. "Not particularly. I just don’t understand this strange affinity with that decade. It boggles the mind."

Jamie stepped over a slumbering Monster to get to her. "I looked good in platform shoes." Her eyes crinkled with amusement as she studied Darcy’s disgusted pout. Just as quickly, her amusement faded. Something was happening inside of her, a quivering but not that lustful shiver in the bel y. This was around her heart, and more ache than pleasure. With sudden certainty about what she wanted, Jamie took the plunge.

"You know what I think?"

"What?"

"You should move in with me. Then maybe I’l let you choose the music."

"Move — move in with you? Have you lost your mind?"

"Anyway, there’s plenty of room for your stuff here."

Darcy’s frown was fierce, her eyes baffled. "I’m not moving in with you."

Now that it was out, Jamie felt almost giddy. "Yes, you are."

"James, I can recommend a good therapist. There’s absolutely no shame in seeking help for mental instability."

"I’l keep that in mind. God knows I haven’t been clear in the head since I got tangled up with you, Stretch. We can make an appointment together, after you move in."

"I’m not moving in with you," Darcy snarled. There was panic now, little slivers of it dancing down her spine.

Jamie recognized the panic but it was too late to back down now. "Yes, you are. Because it’s what I want, and I always get what I want."

The panic had turned to anger to mask the terror Darcy was now feeling. "If you think I give a single damn about what you want right now-,"

"Because," Jamie continued unperturbed, "I’m as crazy about you as you are about me."

The certainty behind the words left Darcy speechless.

"That shut you up didn’t it? It’s time, Darcy, we started dealing with it instead of dancing around it."

"I’m sorry." Darcy’s voice shook. "I don’t want this."

The hurt came quick and sharp to Jamie’s heart. "I’m sorry you don’t want it too, because it’s the way it is. Look at me," Jamie framed her face with fingers that shook slightly. "I wasn’t looking for it either. But it’s been there for a long time. Let’s see where it takes us." She lowered her mouth, inching closer. "Just us."

Just us, Darcy thought. She wanted to believe it, wanted to trust al the soft and liquid feelings that were flowing through her. To love someone and have it be strong and true. To be capable of it. To be worthy of it. She wanted to believe it.

Jamie sensed the struggle and took her hand and pul ed her to the bedroom. This Darcy could understand. They undressed slowly as the moonlight shimmered over their skin. Jamie listened to the way Darcy’s breath caught, released, caught again when Jamie touched her. When Jamie pressed her lips to Darcy’s heart, Darcy wanted to weep. Jamie took her hand, holding tight. No one else, Jamie thought, had ever unlocked her this way.

"This is different," she told Darcy, and her mouth pressed down as her lover shook her head. "This is different. I love you, Darcy."

Darcy’s vision blurred with tears. Her lips trembled with words she didn’t know how to say.

"I love you," Jamie repeated.

Darcy’s breath caught again as sensation swamped into her, tore at her breath. Fear and joy bursting. "Don’t."

Jamie laid her lips on hers, the kiss gentle. "I love you." She kept her eyes open and on Darcy’s, watched tears swim and shimmer.

"Jamie." It was said helplessly. Darcy felt her heart quake, seem to spil over. Then her lips clung as her mouth opened under Jamie’s. "I love you back."

"Say it again."

Darcy shook her head, her only sign that she had heard the request.

"I like the way it sounds. I want to hear it again." She felt the tension in Darcy’s form and hid a smile. "There’s no point trying to take it back. You won’t get away with it."

"People say al kinds of things in the heat of passion." Ful -fledged panic had returned. Darcy scooted away, and nearly made it off the bed.

"Heat of passion? You start using clichés like that, I know you’re fumbling." In one easy move Jamie flipped her back on the bed and covered the long form with hers, her legs pinning her lover down. She saw Darcy’s eyes darken, the pupils dilating. A sure sign of her arousal. "Say it again, Stretch. It’s not as hard the second time." Jamie’s mouth nipped at a bare shoulder, a hand rubbing a hard nipple.

Darcy shifted, trying to move from under her, and was taken aback by Jamie’s strength. For the first time she could remember, her own nudity left her feeling uneasy and exposed.

"Whatever I might be feeling at the moment doesn’t mean..." she gasped when Jamie’s finger found her wet. "God! I hate when you look at me like that. Al amused patience. It’s insulting."

"And you’re trying to change the subject, Darcy."

"Don’t you understand?" Darcy bunched her hands into fists and felt her body heat as Jamie started to move against her. "I know what I’m capable of. I know my strength and weaknesses. I’ve never been good with long term anything. I’l just screw this up."

"No, you won’t. I won’t let you."

Darcy’s hands grabbed at Jamie determined to push her off. "You overestimate yourself."

"No. You underestimate yourself."

It was that, Darcy realized as she stopped fighting, that simple and quiet faith in her that left her helpless. Their eyes met and Darcy saw it. The strain and the nerves in the quiet gray looking back at her. Her answer mattered. Her hand came around to touch Jamie’s face.

"Dammit. You win."

"I always do."

Darcy frowned at that. "Don’t push it."

Jamie’s only reply was a smile against her neck as her fingers slipped into her again, finding Darcy wet and ready.

Darcy’s eyes closed at the wave of pleasure that rose up at her touch. "But I’m not moving in."

Jamie’s fingers started to stroke her. "Okay. But you wil ."

"I said..." Darcy stopped as Jamie’s mouth closed on a nipple.

Jamie lifted her head with a smile. "You said?"

"Don’t stop," Darcy whispered helplessly. Don’t stop touching me, don’t stop loving me, she thought.

"Never."

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The roadhouse was tucked back from the road. Inside there were six booths ranged down one wal . In the middle were about a dozen tables with mismatched chairs haphazardly pushed together and forgotten. The bar was black with age and the floor, a beige linoleum faded to gray. The lone waitress was young and bird-thin, her hair a bottle blonde gone bad. Someone was crooning about lost love from tinny speakers. To Alex’s ears it sounded like Wil ie Nelson, but then again she was no country music fan and everyone sounded like Wil ie to her. Fingers tapping impatiently on the surface, she sat at the table waiting for Barney, who had become her unofficial investigator. The waitress slowly made her way to the table and Alex’s nose twitched at the cloud of cheap perfume.

"What’l you have?" Her too red lips stretch in a vague imitation of a smile as her gum snapped.

"What’s good here?"

"Nothing." Her gum snapped again.

Alex looked at her and had to smile. "Okay what’s safe?"

"Coffee."

Alex nodded. "I’l have that then."

The woman returned with a pot and poured her a cup, throwing some creamers on top of the wobbly table. Alex toyed with the spoon, irritation growing at the wait. At the very least he could have come on time, she thought in annoyance. After an hour of fruitless waiting and too many songs about lost love, she gave up and vowed she would kil him the next time she saw him. The jerk probably got drunk somewhere else and forgot about having made plans to meet me. She threw some money on the table and left.

Yet Barney had sounded so urgent when he’d cal ed. He had found something more about Reynolds’ death, related to his extra curricular activities, but didn’t want to meet at any of the joints he usual y frequented. Whatever it was that he had discovered had scared him, made him uneasy. That had gotten Alex’s attention. Now as she stepped out into the evening and stared into the inky sky, part of her was disappointed. She had wanted something, anything to kick-start her stal ed investigation into Jamie’s father’s death. She was at a dead end and it didn’t sit wel with her at al .

She heard footsteps moving quickly away from her and turned, half expecting to see Barney. That was when she saw the car parked along the al ey next to the restaurant. Because the beat up Chevy looked familiar, she slowly made her way to it, her nose wrinkling as the smel of rotting garbage wrapped around her.

She could see someone sitting behind the wheel and as she neared, she saw that it was Barney. "Wel , it’s about damn time you showed up. I was about to give you up for..." Her voice trailed away as she reached the car, the reason for his tardiness readily apparent. Barney was very dead, a bul et hole gaping out of his forehead.

She sensed movement behind her but didn’t have time to react before an iron forearm was clamped around her neck. A searing pain scalded her back just above her waist. She tried to jab her elbow backward but didn’t connect with any significant force. Why did she feel so weak? She felt her knees start to buckle and the arm around her neck let go. Alex fel to the pavement. Pain rocketed through her skul , then oblivion rol ed in like a dense fog. She saw it coming, welcomed it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The ringing of the telephone final y penetrated through to Jamie. She groaned as one eye opened and she stared into the darkness, glanced at the clock beside her bed and frowned at the time. Two o’clock. For a moment she toyed with the idea of ignoring the insistent clamor, but wondered if it might be Darcy cal ing her after closing the restaurant. She stretched out a hand and lifted the receiver with a low groan."Hel o?"

"Jamie?" The voice was urgent, thick with nerves, and Jamie sprang up in bed, heart thudding.

"Megan? What is it?"

"I think something’s happened to Alex. They won’t tel me where they’ve taken her. They cal ed looking for her mother’s phone number. Jamie, I think…"

The voice broke as Megan started to sob."Megan, it’s okay. I’l start cal ing around. Just try and stay calm. I’m sure everything is okay. I’l cal you as soon as I have news."

"Oh my God, I don’t know what I’m going to do if…"

"If nothing. You won’t have to do anything because she is fine," Jamie interrupted firmly, even as dread spread. "I’l cal you, I promise." Shaken, she hung up the phone and swung her legs around. She was barely aware of throwing some clothes together as she dialed a number from memory.

"Gaston? It’s Saunders. What’s going on?"

"Saunders? What the hel do you want?"

"I got a cal that something happened to Alex." Her heart dropped at his next words.

"Ryan’s been shot or stabbed. She’s at Boston Medical Center."

"Is she…" Her voice trailed off, unable to voice the thought lest that make it reality.

"I don’t know. Who cal ed you?"

"Why in the hel wouldn’t you tel her partner?"

"Partner? She was off duty."

"Not that kind of partner, you idiot. Never mind." She threw the phone down and frantical y searched for her shoes. Monster, thinking it was time to get up, bounced around her, tail wagging madly. "Go lie down." Her voice was rougher than usual and he sat down shaking, looking at her with sad brown eyes.

"I’m sorry, buddy, just go lie down," she choked out, blinking back tears.

As she raced down the stairs, she dialed Megan and told her what she could before racing out into the night. She fumbled with her keys and swal owed a scream of frustration, took a deep breath as she started the car and sped off with a squeal of tires. The minute her car started, her mind went completely blank. The adrenaline had kicked in and her reactions now were based on her training. Somewhere her fear had frozen over, replaced with icy calm.

She dialed another number as she turned a corner too fast and swerved, missing a parked car by inches. She forced herself to slow down. "Come on.

Answer the damn phone," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Darcy, something’s happened to Alex. Get everyone. I’m on my way to BMC. Meet me there." At a time like this there was no time for pleasantries.

***

"What the hel could be taking so long? She’s been in surgery for hours." Jamie pushed up from the yel ow plastic chair and started to pace. The question had been aimed at no one in particular and no one bothered to answer. It had taken Darcy little time to gather everyone after the phone cal . Now assembled, the group crowded into the smal waiting room, fidgeting as time dragged by. Each one struggled with her fear, her feeling of impotence at not being able to do anything but wait.

Megan sat quietly next to her grandmother Wil y, who periodical y would gently pat her hand. The diminutive white haired woman struggled with the urge to take out the smal flask hidden inside her coat pocket. Just one little sip would take the edge off, she was sure. Her hand went to her pocket, but glancing at Megan she stopped and instead took her hand.

Megan looked shel shocked, al expression careful y wiped from her face. Of al of the things she had imagined happening in their lives, this was not one of them. Though she knew that Alex faced danger every day, she had never thought of what would happen if Alex were hurt while on duty. Now she fought against the panic of facing a life without her partner. The fear clogged her throat and she fought against the tears burning behind her eyelids.

Darcy leaned against the wal nearest to the hal way, reading the same poster over and over again without any of the words registering. She remembered another phone cal in the dead of night, years before. The message then had been equal y brief, with the news of another friend gunned down while on duty. The irony that the cal had been about Sam, Alex’s late girlfriend, was not lost on the auburn haired woman. She glanced at Jamie and gave a silent prayer of thanks that she was no longer on active duty. She couldn’t deal with the fear of what Jamie might face every day.

Lauren periodical y stood up to go stare down the hal way, looking for any sign of Madison, who was stil at work somewhere else in the hospital.

Jamie shoved her hands into her pockets and glared at a watercolor print as she paced. Aware of the emotion vibrating through Jamie’s body, Darcy crossed to her and massaged Jamie’s neck with a gentle hand. "She’l be fine." At her touch, Jamie leaned back against her for a brief moment; wanting to feel her arms around her.

"What the hel was she doing in that al ey? I should have been there."

"Jamie, stop it. Don’t do this. You are not responsible."

"What’s going on?" They al turned their attention to the hal way as Madison came running in. She had spent the better part of the night at the bedside of a dying patient until the quiet end. As an oncologist, unfortunately those times came with ever increasing frequency. She had stayed for a moment to console the grieving family, then had stepped out…and received the message about Alex. Swaying with fatigue and worry, she stood trying to read the news from their body language. Lauren jumped up and into her arms as everyone started speaking at once.

The cacophony of noise just as quickly died down as the double doors opened and an older woman came through them. The sight of her wasn’t encouraging. She looked like a battle-scarred soldier who had lost the war. She had pul ed on a lab coat, but it didn’t hide the bloodstains coloring her scrubs. Strands of hair damp with sweat trailed from beneath her cap.

"Is Alexandra Ryan’s family here?"Megan stepped forward. "How is she?"

The doctor’s tired eyes tracked to the blond woman. "Are you family?"

"Hi, Louisa. We are friends, but Megan is her partner," Madison broke in gently as her arm wrapped around a trembling Megan who was flanked on the other side by her grandmother.

The woman looked over in surprise at Madison. "Maddie, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there." She turned to Megan. "She survived the surgery."

Megan expel ed a deep breath and buried her face against her grandmother’s shoulder. Lauren wiped tears from her eyes as Jamie and Darcy hugged, whispering a prayer of thanks. The doctor pushed her hands into the pockets of her coat and got straight to business. "She was stabbed in the back and her wound was deep. The solid part of her right kidney was penetrated. The organ was repaired and should heal without adverse effect."

Megan smiled through her tears. "Can I see her?"

"Come with me." As they al stepped forward, the doctor turned with a faint smile. "I didn’t mean the entire waiting room. Sorry, only immediate family tonight."

She led Megan and Wil y through two sets of automatic sliding doors into the surgical ICU. "She is stil under heavy sedation and I should warn you that she doesn’t look very good. She fel on her face."

Megan turned to her, eyes wide.

The doctor answered her unspoken question. "Apparently, she was attacked from behind. She col apsed and landed hard on the pavement, face down."

Megan, who was suddenly braver than Wil y, went directly to the bed, took one look and began to cry. At her tears, her grandmother rushed to her side and took her into her arms.

Alex lay on her left side, propped up in that position by pil ows. The left side of her face, the one visible, was so badly swol en and bruised that she was hardly recognizable. Both her eyes were closed but she couldn’t have opened her left eye if she’d wanted to. It was that swol en. A breathing tube was taped in place between her lips.

"Her pulse is steady. We’re keeping a tight check on her blood pressure. We’l be taking her off the respirator as soon as she regains consciousness.

Natural y, she’l be sedated for pain. She’l remain in ICU for several days, but her prognosis is good. It helps that she was in good physical condition." The doctor recited the litany in a voice that sounded mechanical and detached.

They stood looking at Alex in silence for a couple more minutes. Megan looked down at her lover and felt her heart trip as more tears threatened. "Oh, honey, what happened to you?"

The doctor then motioned them out. "Visitation wil be restricted for a few days until she is stable. Only immediate family for now."

Megan struggled for calm. Now that she had seen Alex, the relief she had expected to feel did not come. Instead, the fear settled over her and made her legs wobbly. "Her sister and mother have been notified. They were out of town but are catching the first available flight."

The doctor nodded once. "I’l leave word with the nurse’s station. If you’l excuse me." She left them staring at the closed doors.

"Wil y, I could have lost her." Megan leaned her head against her grandmother. "Yes, but you didn’t. It wil take a lot more than that to beat our girl. She’s too tough to go quietly."

Megan smiled at that, but her eyes remained worried.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

"What do I look like? Every time I ask Megan, she starts to cry."

"I won’t lie to you. You look like hel ."Alex closed her eyes, then opened them again. "Damage?"

"Considerable but reparable."

"Did they get him?"

Jamie shook her head.

"Fuck."

Jamie remained seated beside the bed. Megan had just gone home to shower and change, and would return later. Jamie had pushed her out of the door, threatening to physical y toss her out if she didn’t leave. She thought Alex had gone to sleep until Alex mumbled, "My face. Hurts like hel ."

"Apparently you were attacked from behind."

"Right."

"You fel forward and landed hard on your cheek. You’re bruised and swol en, but no bones were broken."

"So I’l be as beautiful as ever?"

"Yes, and as conceited, I’m sure." There was a pause as Jamie stared at her friend. "You scared the hel out of me, Alex. Don’t do that again."

Alex smiled, but the smile caused her discomfort and she closed her eyes again. "I promise."

"What the hel were you doing in that al ey?"

"I was meeting Barney." Suddenly remembering what she had seen in the al ey, Alex opened her eyes. "Barney, he was in the car, and I thought he was…"

Jamie nodded grimly. "He’s dead. Shot through the head."

Alex closed her eyes again. "He wanted to tel me about something he found regarding the judge’s death."

There was no need to tel Jamie which judge. The guilt escalated and she sighed as she studied her bruised friend. She should never have tried to avoid getting to the truth. She had chosen to take the easy way out when she had taken her leave of absence. Maybe if she hadn’t, she might have been there that night and saved Alex from the stabbing.

Almost as if she could hear her thoughts, Alex opened her one good eye and stared at Jamie. "It wasn’t your fault, James."

Though she did not believe it, Jamie nodded as if in agreement. Her face became set and her eyes turned grim with resolve. She felt the fear, white hot, spear through her. It tightened her stomach into knots and constricted her chest. It was fol owed closely by rage. She was usual y slow to anger, but when it came, the rage was often blinding. She had failed. She had not been there to cover her best friend’s back. "I’m coming back, Alex. I’m coming back and I’m going to finish this thing once and for al . No one comes after my best friend."

But by that time, Alex had fal en asleep. Jamie continued staring at her bruised face as the hate and the rage surged through her. Her father had been involved in something ugly and sordid and even now, months after his death, his poison was stil causing destruction. She had no doubt that Barney’s death and Alex’s attack were al related to it, that her father was somehow to blame. Even as a victim, he was stil the catalyst.

She wanted to escape the smel s of sickness and injury, the sounds of voices and phones, the sight of yel ow plastic chairs in the waiting area, the stifling box of memories that held so much pain and fear. But she fought off the panic and let her mind empty of al thoughts except one: she would find whoever was responsible and make them pay.

***

"I’m going back."

"Okay." Darcy continued to rinse glasses even as her heart dropped at the words. She didn’t have to ask to where. From the determined set of her face, she knew Jamie meant back to work.

"Aren’t you going to ask why?" There was bel igerence in Jamie’s tone. She had expected an argument.

Darcy shrugged. "I don’t need to."

Jamie pushed the glass in front of her. "I can’t just sit here and pretend that al of this is not happening. I have to do something. I can’t turn away and ignore the fact that Alex got hurt while working on a case that I was initial y involved in."

"I know you can’t. So you’l go back, and you wil find who is responsible for it, and then you wil be able to move on."

It was said calmly, logical y, and Jamie frowned at that. Needing an outlet for her anger, she had wanted Darcy to argue the point. Now that Darcy was ful of understanding, it defused her anger and she wanted, no needed to stay mad.

Because Darcy knew her so wel , she read al of the emotions that flickered on her face."Jamie, did you expect me to argue against you going back to work?"

Jamie shrugged, not answering

."Would it make a difference to your decision if I ask you not to go back?"

Jamie hesitated, then shrugged again. "No."

"There you go. So why waste my energy arguing a point I can’t win?"

"It never stopped you before."

Darcy sighed, sensing that Jamie was spoiling for a fight and understanding the reasons behind it. But Alex’s stabbing had her rattled and scared. And because she was scared for Jamie, she erupted. "Do you real y expect me to be happy about you going back? Do you think for one minute, one second, I want what happened to Alex to happen to you? Are you that stupid and clueless?"

Jamie’s eyes turned hot. "What? I didn’t think…"

"No, you didn’t, which is typical of you." Darcy had found her own mad and was on a rol . "Do you think it gives me any pleasure to think about you going out there? I saw what happened to Alex. I remember what happened to Sam. I sure as hel don’t want to lose another friend. Especial y one…" She didn’t finish the thought. Especial y one that I’m in love with.

Jamie stared at her lover, mesmerized by the sight of Darcy in ful fury.

As Jamie continued to stare at her, Darcy threw up her hands. "Forget it."

She turned to go back to the kitchen but Jamie stood up and cal ed out to her, "Darcy! Wait." The last word was a whisper.

If it had been shouted, it wouldn’t have had the desired effect. As it was, the soft plea stopped Darcy, who turned in the kitchen doorway.

As she reached her, Jamie’s hands cupped Darcy’s face. Jamie saw frustration there, but not born of anger. She was used to that combination. What pul ed at her and make her touch gentle was that this time it was triggered by fear. "I’m sorry." Her mouth was a breath away and mingled with Darcy’s as they stared at each other. "I have to do this. Please don’t ask me not to. Don’t ask that of me."

Darcy closed her eyes briefly as fear churned deep in her stomach. "I know, Jamie. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything. I know you have to. I’m trying not to think about the fact that two of my closest friends get to carry guns for a living. And one of them I’m rather fond of."

Jamie’s mouth closed on hers and the kiss carried the tenderness that Jamie could not express. "Fond?"

"Yes. I’m rather fond of Alex." Her mouth trailed feather light against Jamie’s jaw and she felt Jamie’s smile. "Promise me you’l be extra careful," Darcy said against her mouth. "Promise me, James."

Jamie pul ed back to stare into her eyes, serious, intent now on soothing. "I promise. Look what I’ve got to come back to."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

"Where is she? Where is my baby?" The voice that pierced the quiet corridor had even Alex wincing.

"Oh no. Quick, move me to another room; better yet, let’s move to Canada. It’s not too late," Alex whispered

.Megan smiled. "She would probably hire the Mounties to find you, but it’s worth a try. Oops, too late," Megan whispered as the door swung open and a shorter version of Alex swept in.

"Where is my daughter?" The older woman with salt and pepper hair cut in an elegant bob, a smooth stil unlined face, and the same piercing blue eyes pushed past a startled Megan to get to the bed. She took one look and started to cry.

"Oh my baby. My poor baby. I need a chair. I’m feeling weak." The weeping continued.

"Mom…Mom, I’m okay," Alex protested at the fluttering hands that kept insisting on patting her everywhere.

"Alexandra, I told you this would happen. Being a cop is so foolish. Didn’t I warn you about this?"

"So many times," Alex murmured. She closed her eyes and wil ed her mother away. She loved her dearly, but at a great distance. She opened her eyes and sighed when she saw that not al dreams come true.

Her mother produced a tissue that she delicately dabbed against her eyes. She tried to smooth the sheets, al the while shaking her head. "Don’t you worry, I’m going to take you home to Virginia and wil have you fixed up in no time."

"Mom…I’m fine. Plus, when I get to go home, I have Megan to take care of me."

"Yes. Megan. Your les-bi-an partner." She had a habit of pronouncing lesbian as if it was a three-syl able word. "How is Megan?"

"She’s fine, thanks." Megan replied dryly from the other side of the bed. "You can just cal me partner. Saves time."

Alex started to laugh at that then winced as her facial muscles immediately protested the movement.

Her mother ignored Megan’s comment and turned to her daughter. "Poor baby. What can I get you?"

Megan rol ed her eyes, then turned as the door swung open again. Ashley, Alex’s older sister, entered. She reached Megan first and kissed her. Their eyes met and Ashley smiled at her, blue eyes twinkling. "Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t keep up. I’ve never been good at the twenty yard dash." She approached her sister and looked down at her, eyes fil ing with tears. "Wow, kid, you look like you lost the fight with a transport truck. What happened?"

"I fel on my face."

Her sister nodded. "Of course you did. Cool. I’m the prettiest now." She kissed her sister.

"Ashley Dawn, what a terrible thing to say. Why, look at her face…"

The door opened once again and Madison, Darcy, and Lauren walked in, interrupting her in mid-hysterics.

"The cavalry’s here. Thank God," Megan whispered.

"Terrific, now we can have a party," Darcy drawled

. Alex closed her eyes in relief. She felt no shame in needing her friends as a buffer for her mother. And now just wanted to sleep.

Her mother forgot about her tears as she looked at the spectacular group of women crowding into the smal room. "Ah...the les-bi-an friends are here."

"Indeed. We prefer being cal ed a posse, but whatever," Jamie said grinning. She bent down and kissed her cheek. "Hi, Mrs. Ryan."

"Jamie, you look…wel ." There was almost an accusation in the remark. Jamie was fine but Alex wasn’t.

Feeling overly sensitive, Jamie’s face tightened but was spared further remarks by a voice cutting through the room.

"What the hel is this? Out! Everyone out! This isn’t a party. I said immediate family only." The doctor who had operated on Alex stood glaring in the doorway. Her laser sharp eyes found Madison. "Maddie, I’m surprised at you."

Madison shrugged sheepishly. "Wel …I’ve always been a fol ower." The long sweep of dark hair slid against her cheek as she kissed Alex before fol owing the chastised group out.

Megan kissed Alex. "I’l be back later honey."

The doctor crossed to the foot of the bed and her eyes swept over Alex’s face, noting the strain on it that covered the pain. "I would say that visitors’ hours are over for tonight. My patient needs some rest." Her tone brooked no argument.

"Are you the doctor?" Mrs. Ryan asked as she stood up.

"Yes. Doctor Ramsay."

"I’m Alex’s mother."

"Ma’am."

"Are you a les-bi-an, too?"

"Mom!" Alex groaned.

The doctor looked taken aback for a moment, then her amazed stare caught Ashley’s embarrassed look and her mouth curved ever so slightly. "Not the last time I checked. Now please, I wil ask you to leave so that Alex can rest. You can come back in the morning." She ushered them out firmly. It was done so smoothly that neither could protest the ejection. She then crossed back to Alex’s bedside.

"How are you feeling?"

"I wil vow my undying love and devotion for you if you wil ban my mother from this hospital," Alex whispered, fighting against the fatigue that made her eyelids heavy.

The doctor’s mouth twitched as her fingers deftly probed the bruises. "Tempting offer, but I would imagine your girlfriend would have something to say about it." She lifted the bandages and took a peek.

"You might be right. Then how about using one of those infernal needles to inject her with Valium when she’s not looking?" Alex was already fal ing asleep as the sound of laughter floated around her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

"Jamie…" A surprised Shane looked past Jamie’s shoulder for the others. There was only Jamie.

"We need to talk."

Shane stepped back and al owed her in. She closed the door and leaned against it briefly, steeling herself against whatever was coming, then fol owed Jamie into the living room where the tal blonde stood gazing at the picture frames scattered on the mantel.

"Is this an official visit?"

"In a matter of speaking." Jamie turned. Her eyes took inventory of Shane’s attire, the loosely worn robe, the tousled damp hair, and realized that she had caught her coming out of the shower again. For a moment as Jamie’s eyes touched on the bare skin peeking from the opened gap of the bathrobe, she remembered the last time she had surprised Shane.

Shane’s hand fluttered to the col ar of her robe as if she too was remembering. Shane gave a faint smile. "You have me at a disadvantage. If you can wait, I’l get dressed."

Jamie nodded, fighting off the memory of Shane’s naked form. Easy now.

A few minutes later, Shane returned, dressed in faded jeans and a loose sweater. She had quickly brushed her hair and it lay curling against her shoulders. "Can I offer you a cup of coffee or something?"

"No. I’m fine."

Shane stepped further into the room and Jamie caught her scent. She smel ed fresh, of the soap she always used, of something sweet, and Jamie’s body automatical y responded to that stimuli. She frowned at the betrayal from her body.

As if sensing her reaction, Shane stopped a foot away and looked at her uncertainly. "Should we sit down?"

"Sure." Relieved to be moving away from her, Jamie settled on the couch and immediately regretted it as Shane sat down beside her.

"Where is Detective Ryan?" Shane suddenly asked, giving Jamie an opening.

"In the hospital." Her eyes studied Shane for any sign of guilt.

Shane’s eyes widened. "In the hospital? What happened?"

Jamie ignored the question; instead she turned slightly so she could look more ful y at her. "Shane, you need to level with me. You need to tel me everything you know about my father."

"Father?" At first there was only puzzlement. It took a moment but as comprehension dawned, Shane’s face reflected her horror and she jumped up and away. "Reynolds...Reynolds was your father?"

It had been a calculated slip and Jamie’s eyes narrowed. "I use the term loosely."

"Oh, my God…oh my God…I slept with…." Her face turned ashen at the thought. It was too sordid to think about.

Jamie had had time to adjust to the reality and felt momentarily sorry for Shane. It was clear from her reaction that at the very least Shane hadn’t known of that relationship.

"You slept with both father and daughter, in a matter of speaking." Jamie said it bluntly because she felt it needed to be said out loud for it to lose its impact. Shane looked physical y il , and Jamie sighed as she went to her and took her by the arm. She led her back to the couch. "Look, sit down. Maybe you should have a drink or something."

"No…no. I’m fine. It’s just so unexpected."

"Unexpected is not the word I would use, but okay."

"I…I didn’t know that, Jamie."

"I know." Now.

Their eyes met.

"I guess this means that you and I are an impossibility," Shane added quietly.

Briefly there was regret on both sides. Jamie’s mouth curved rueful y. "For a variety of reasons." They sat quietly for a moment, each lost in her own thoughts.

"Was it you that night?"

Jamie glanced at Shane, then away. "No," she sighed. "And I can’t elaborate any further than that." A hand rubbed at an invisible spot on her knee.

"Shane, I need to know who else he was blackmailing, where he got the money, everything you know."

Shane leaned her head back against the cushion and closed her eyes. "I don’t know about the money. I know he was paid to swing some votes, but I don’t how or how much."

"Which case were you pressured on? Let’s start with that."Shane looked trouble. "Jamie…"

"Shane, I’m not trying to get you to implicate yourself. I’m asking because my best friend was almost kil ed and someone else also died because they kept digging into this case."

Shane’s teeth toyed with her bottom lip and Jamie watched the movement. She could so easily picture that mouth on her body. It unsettled her that despite her feelings for Darcy, she could stil feel that curl of lust while sitting beside Shane. The thought about Darcy had her standing and walking away to pace by the window.

"Some of the decisions I would have agreed with regardless," Shane final y said.

"Shane..." There was frustration in that one word. Jamie released a breath. "Then start with the ones you didn’t agree with."

It took a few hours, but by the time they were done Jamie had a list of about a dozen suspect cases spread over five years. Some were names of corporations she vaguely recognized, others were names she knew nothing about. But as she was reading back the list, no common denominator jumped out at her. She would need to run them through the system to see if anything stood out.

She stood up, feeling her back protest the sudden movement, and she stretched the kinks out as her eyes drifted over to Shane, who stood staring out of the bay windows. She looked shaken and tired.

Almost as if she could feel Jamie’s eyes on her, she turned to face her. Her smile was strained. "Did you get everything you needed?" She motioned toward the pile of notes and files that Shane had pul ed out of her home office. Jamie nodded, putting away her notebook.

"Yeah. Thanks for that. I’l work my way through them; maybe something wil come out of it." Her eyes touched on Shane again; she looked worried. "Don’t worry. It won’t track back to you."

"Whoever did this may know about me," Shane replied with a faint shrug. "That’s al I was thinking."

"I know. I’l keep an eye on things. If you see anything suspicious or if anything seems odd to you, cal me." She handed her a business card.

Shane took it and her mouth curved, almost as if she was amused by the preposterous situation in which they found themselves. She fol owed her to the front door. On an impulse, Shane kissed her. The kiss was soft, tentative. Jamie stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. She hadn’t responded, but she hadn’t pushed her away either.

"Good night, Jamie."

***

Jamie returned to the office feeling unsettled. Her foul mood was scarcely improved by finding the assistant district attorney waiting for her.

"Hi, Jamie."

"Stacey." Jamie pushed by her and threw her keys on the desk. When Stacey fol owed her in, she turned, unable to hide her irritation.

"I wanted to know how Alex is doing."

"Go see her at the hospital." There was a momentary flash of hurt on Stacey’s face that had Jamie cursing silently. Jamie flopped down in her chair. Its creak was the only sound in the room as they stared at each other.

"You don’t like me much, do you?" Stacey asked.

"Not much."

"Why? What have I ever done to you?"

"Not to me. I just don’t agree with the kind of person you are."

"Kind? What am I, a different species?"

"The kind that would screw around with my best friend’s girlfriend." This al uded to the affair Stacey had had with Sam, Alex’s late girlfriend.

Stacey’s eyes flickered at the blow. "Alex seems to be over it," she responded.

Jamie started to sort through the files on her desk, hoping that Stacey would get the hint and leave.

"Love doesn’t ask permission before crashing through your life, you know."It had been said softly. Jamie’s head rose up. "What?"

Stacey regarded her calmly. "You heard me. Sorry to have bothered you." She turned to leave.

Jamie thought about Shane and Darcy and sighed. Who the hel am I to judge anyone for being human?

"Hel , Stacey, wait!" She stood up and shoved a hand through her hair. "I’m being a bitch."

Stacey’s mouth curved ever so slightly as she glanced at the detective. "Agreed."

At that response, Jamie’s eyes whipped to her; a reluctant grin crossed her face at the bland look on Stacey’s face

."Truce?" Jamie asked, offering her hand.

Stacey crossed to her and took her hand. "For now. Don’t want us to get too comfortable..."

Jamie shook her head at that."So, let’s start over. How is Alex?"

"Better. She is stil weak and in pain, but she is getting cranky and that is always a good sign."

They exchanged smiles. When the silence lengthened between them, Stacey shifted. "Wel …I should go. See you later, Jamie."

As she turned to leave, Jamie suddenly thought of something. "

Stacey, do you have any idea what Barney could have found? Did Alex talk to you about it?"Stacey stopped and turned. "No." Her eyes narrowed. "Are you back on this case?"

Jamie shrugged, trying to avoid answering directly. "I want to find who did this to Alex."

Stacey nodded. "I do too."

After a brief hesitation, Jamie threw a smal notepad her way. Stacey caught it in mid air. "I went to see Shane earlier today."Stacey’s raised her eyebrows at the familiarity. Shane

?As she read her reaction, Jamie silently cursed herself. "Judge Scott."

"Uh huh."

"I asked her who might have been pressuring or buying the court’s favors through Reynolds."

Stacey flipped through the pages and read the scribbled notes, her face impassive. If she was surprised by what she was reading, it didn’t show

.Jamie studied her. She grudgingly acknowledged to herself that Stacey was a good prosecutor, and more importantly in Jamie’s mind, Stacey had once been a good detective before she got cal ed to the bar. Stacey looked up at her.

"There is enough here to indict her. Why aren’t we?"

"Because I don’t think she did it."

Stacey stared at her. "Why do I sense that you are not tel ing me everything?"

Jamie shrugged.

Stacey flipped through the notes again. She nodded in the direction of the notebook before tossing it on the desk. "There is certainly enough in there to continue digging. I would take a look at the other woman who was used to lure Judge Scott into that hotel room. She couldn’t have been an innocent; it seemed too wel planned as a set up. Maybe she was used on more than one blackmail job. And look for that photographer. I mean, someone had to take the pictures."

Jamie nodded, half annoyed that she hadn’t thought of that angle herself, having been too distracted by everything else.

Stacey looked back at her and smiled in amusement, as if she was reading her mind. "I would start by getting a sketch together from Judge Scott’s description of the woman. Who knows, we might get lucky a second time," Stacey said.

Jamie flipped through another folder, buying time as she thought about her next move. For some inexplicable reason, the thought of seeing Shane alone again unnerved her. "Do you want to ride shotgun when I go back to see her?"

Stacey stared at her and their eyes met briefly before Jamie looked away. Stacey’s eyes narrowed, puzzled by the apparent embarrassment. As the silence stretched, Jamie wondered if Alex had said anything to Stacey about her involvement with Shane.

"Al right. Count me in," Stacey final y replied.

***

"Saunders!"

The voiced carried enough irritation to have heads turning to and fro in curiosity.Jamie grimaced. Not for the first time she cursed the city’s builders for the paper-thin wal s. She took her time walking to the captain’s office. Why rush? It looked like she was already in trouble.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Close the door."She closed the door and remained standing."What are you working on right now?"

"Just reviewing the cold cases."

"Mmm… Rumor has it that you are poking around the Reynolds’ file."

Jamie didn’t answer.

After a moment, he lifted his head and looked at her. His chin jutted out as he frowned. "Stay away from this case, Saunders. Ryan told me about the relationship."

Jamie blinked. Alex had told him about Shane? Her heart skittered.

"Why it came from her and not you, we wil discuss later, but I can’t have one of my detectives investigating a relative’s death. If the defense ever caught wind of that, bias would be the least of their accusations."

Jamie hid her relief. He was talking about her father. She almost smiled.

His eyes narrowed as he studied her. "I want you ten miles away from this case. Understood?" He waited, but when she said nothing, he continued. "What was the DA doing in your office?"

Jamie shrugged. "Checking up on Alex."He looked thoughtful.

"How is she?"

"Better."

He nodded.

Jamie cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant. "Who is working on the Reynolds’ file?"

"McCarthy."

"What? Captain, you can’t…" She stopped as she saw his face tighten.

"I want you to give him al your and Ryan’s notes."

He turned to read a memo and Jamie knew the interview was over. She left, closing the door with exaggerated delicacy. Inside she was fuming. McCarthy was a throwback to the fifties where women belonged in the kitchen. She would only grudgingly acknowledge that he knew what he was doing. She returned to her office knowing that regardless of what her captain said, she would stil poke around. She had too much invested in seeing the case solved.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

"Don’t stop…I’m so close."

"I won’t."

"Shane, I need you inside me." Jamie groaned as the swel ing of her clitoris increased under the knowing hand. She felt the orgasm start and her whole body twitched. Behind her eyelids she felt another presence, the sensation of being watched. Her head tossed from side to side on the pil ow and her hands clenched on the sheet as pleasure and pain mixed.

"That’s good, sweet pea."

What? Dad… "No!" Jamie’s eyes flew opened just as the climax was ripping through her and the horrified scream was dying on her lips. "No."

"Jamie, it’s okay."J

Jamie looked into concerned blue eyes and her face paled as she felt her body shudder on the tail end of her peak. She gulped in air. A dream. It was just a dream.

"It was just a dream," Darcy whispered.

Jamie sat up, knowing she was going to be sick. When Darcy tried to rub her back, Jamie jumped up from the bed. "Don’t. Don’t touch me." Jamie fled into the bathroom, leaving a stunned Darcy behind. She leaned weakly against the closed door then locked it as she felt the nausea increase. She sank down onto the floor and rested her burning face against the cool tile.

"Jamie? Are you okay?" Darcy’s concerned voice came through the closed door.

Jamie felt the guilt pierce through her. "I’m fine, Darcy. I’l be out in a minute."

"Oh my God. Oh my God," Jamie whispered into the quiet as her body trembled. What the hel was that?

She turned on the shower taps and stepped into the spray, scrubbing vigorously as tears streamed down her face. Every time her mind tried to pul her back to the dream, the nausea returned and she rubbed her body harder. What the hel is wrong with me? Jamie thought as she swal owed a hysterical sob. She thought of Darcy in the other room and felt her muscles clench. More than anything she wanted to run back out and into her arms, and let her warmth and strength soothe her.

She stayed under the spray until most of the hot water had run out. Shivering as the water cooled, knowing she had delayed it as long as she could, she final y turned off the and stepped out, toweling herself briskly. She searched for and then pul ed on a pair of navy sweatpants and a t-shirt, then she slowly opened the door and peeked into the dark room.

Darcy was sitting at the foot of the bed, staring down at her hands. Her head lifted at the sound of the door and her worried eyes fel on Jamie. "Are you okay?" The voice was uncertain, soft. It didn’t sound like Darcy at al .

Jamie hesitated in the doorway and with a sigh final y stepped further into the room. "Yeah. I had a nightmare and it just freaked me out. I’m better now."

She tried to avoid the searching eyes, afraid of what hers would reveal.

"Jamie…"

"Darcy, I don’t want to talk about it, if that’s okay."

"Okay."

There was hurt in that simple word and it made Jamie feel worse. She sat down on the other side of the bed and glanced down at her hands, wanting desperately for Darcy to hold her but unable to find the right way to ask. Her vulnerability overwhelmed her and yet she flinched when she felt Darcy’s hand on her shoulder.

Darcy’s body went rigid at her reaction and she pul ed her hand away as if scalded.

Jamie bit down on her lip as she fought against the tears that threatened once again. Darcy moved away and Jamie felt the mattress shift as Darcy readjusted herself and laid down on her side. Jamie stripped, then slipped in beside her and from the corner of her eyes, looked at Darcy. She was facing outward, her back to Jamie.

Jamie closed her eyes and tried to relax her body. But she was afraid of sleep, afraid of what sleep would bring. Afraid of what the nightmares and dreams would reveal about herself. Again her eyes traveled to Darcy and took in the long bare back, the powerful shoulders. She wanted, no needed to feel Darcy next to her. Needs and fear tangled. "Darcy?" There was no answer and for a moment, Jamie wondered if Darcy was ignoring her.

"What is it?" the sleepy voice replied.

"Would you? Could you…" Jamie broke off as tears spil ed down her cheek.

Darcy turned to face her. In the darkness, Jamie felt the intensity of her stare. She felt the mattress dip in as Darcy shifted closer. Then a gentle hand wiped her tears.

"Honey, what is it?"

"I need to…I have to…" She shook her head, unable to put words to her want.

"Come here."

Darcy gathered her close and Jamie wrapped herself tightly around her. She sighed when she felt the strong arms tighten around her. She buried her face into the warm curve of her neck, inhaling her familiar scent. "I got spooked. I’m sorry."

"It’s okay, Jamie." Darcy’s hand rubbed her back. "It’s okay."

Jamie felt the heat from Darcy’s body seep into her own, and she pressed closer. Strength met need and need became desperation. She felt the weight of Darcy’s breasts against her body, felt the long legs entwine with hers, and almost violently felt her body react to being this close to her lover. Her mind was swamped with sensations. This was the woman she loved; this was safety.

"Darcy…"

Darcy’s hand stil ed at the ache in Jamie’s voice. Jamie moved, and with a subtle press of her hips covered Darcy. "I need you, honey. I need you."

"Jamie, wait…"

Jamie was like a woman possessed as she tore through Darcy’s defenses one by one. Darcy’s scent was everywhere, subtle at the curve of her waist, stronger at the gentle underside of her breasts. With open mouthed kisses, Jamie relearned her body. Her mouth, her teeth, her hands covered Darcy’s body inch by inch, wanting her total surrender. Darcy’s skin was damp. Jamie tasted the moistness of it and craved more. There had always been passion between them, but tonight there was a different urgency.

Unable to stop the tidal wave of emotion that rose up between them, Darcy helplessly fol owed along as her body arched taut and her hands clung.

As she felt Darcy’s muscles clench around her fingers and heard the ragged breathing, Jamie knew her lover was close to tumbling. Jamie’s hand lowered and she started to stroke herself, matching her movement to that of her tongue as her mouth made love to Darcy.

"I want us to come together," she whispered.

Darcy groaned as she felt Jamie touching herself. "Then come up here, honey. Jesus, come here." Darcy’s hands were urgent as the breath caught in her throat and with an insistent pul she had Jamie turned so that Jamie straddled her mouth.

When Darcy’s tongue stroked her, hot and sure, Jamie cried out and buried her own into Darcy’s wet softness. There was need there, but it tangled with love.

Instinctively they matched rhythm, and Jamie was almost deaf and blind to anything but the sensation of wet silk in her mouth and Darcy’s tongue inside of her. She felt Darcy grow rigid then push against her mouth with a loud cry, and in almost simultaneous response, her own orgasm came crashing through her. It robbed her of coherence as she bucked against the wave, while her tongue kept time with Darcy’s frantic thrusts.

When Jamie tried to pul away from Darcy’s mouth, unable to take any more, Darcy’s hands grabbed her hips and kept her close as her tongue continued to ravage.

Jamie was almost sobbing into Darcy’s wetness. The second climax had her screaming Darcy’s name. They col apsed back down on the bed, Jamie throwing one arm weakly over her eyes as her body shuddered with aftershocks. She felt Darcy tremble beside her.

"Darcy, you completely wreck me," Jamie managed weakly. Darcy opened heavy lids to look at her. "I’ve never… This is the first..." Darcy blushed.

Surprised by the shyness, Jamie pushed herself up to look at her. "You’ve never done that before?"

Darcy shook her head as her cheeks heated. "No. I’ve always sort of taken turns. I’ve never felt compel ed to…"

Jamie flipped back to face her and leaned over to kiss her. "I love you, Darcy." She was surprised to feel the wetness against her mouth as she felt Darcy’s tears against lips that trembled. The love she felt for Darcy swamped her and her grip was fierce. How can I think of anyone but her?

Afraid, Darcy held her. She had sensed the desperation in Jamie’s touch, almost as if she wanted to forget. But forget what? Her hold tightened and they fel into a restless sleep.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Jamie erupted when she entered the room. "What the hel do you think you are doing?"

"What does it look like?" a grumpy Alex answered. She had stayed in ICU for two days. For the past five, she’d been in a private room that afforded her a lovely view of the parking lot. She was now able to lie on her back. It stil hurt like hel , especial y when she was forced to get up and walk around, which was at least twice a day. Each of those hikes, as she cal ed them, was an ordeal equivalent to climbing Everest. At first she was only able to shuffle slowly around her room, but earlier today she had managed to make it to the end of the hal and back, which the nursing staff claimed was a major breakthrough.

She cursed and asked them where they stored their Nazi uniforms. She was now just shuffling back to bed after going to the bathroom, and was sweating and feeling as helpless as a baby.

"I had to pee. I refuse to do it in that god awful plastic bowl."

Jamie hid a smile and helped her into bed. "Where’s Megan?"

"I sent her home." It was more like she had thrown her out, irritated by her concern. And just as soon as Megan left, Alex had wanted her back. Jamie made a sound like a clucking and Alex glared at her. Her cheek was stil the color of an eggplant going bad, but the swel ing had gone down enough for her to see out of both eyes. "What?" she asked grouchily.

"You must be feeling better, you’re back to being grumpy."

"Shut up."

"Are you eating?"

"Some. A little. I’m not hungry. Besides, have you seen the crap they try to pass off as food?"

Jamie sat on the chair beside the bed. "Megan said you should be going home soon."

Alex shrugged, feeling guilty about being so mean to Megan. "Who knows? That evil doctor won’t tel me anything. Have you talked to Megan?"

Jamie smiled. "Yeah, and she’s not mad. But you should cal her later."Alex looked sheepish. "I’m a bitch and she should leave me the first chance she gets."

Jamie grinned. "Yeah, that’s what I told her. She keeps insisting that you have redeeming qualities. God knows what they are."

They smiled at each other. Jamie looked away briefly then cleared her throat.

It was a sign of nervousness that had Alex looking at her speculatively. "What’s up? Everything okay with you and Darcy?"

"Everything’s fine." She didn’t look convinced. "I asked Stacey Nash to help me with the case."

A dark brow rose in surprise at that. "Stacey? You mean you guys haven’t come to blows yet? If you tel me you have become friends, I wil know that I stil have a concussion."

Jamie shrugged. "We’ve come to an understanding. How much does she know about my father?"

Alex sighed. "Nothing that relates to you. And she doesn’t know about you and Shane, either. Wait a minute, I didn’t think you were working this case."

At Shane’s name Jamie’s eyes flickered. That reaction didn’t escape Alex. "What are you up to, Jamie?"

"Looking into things for you until you are back." She shrugged then stood up, needing to pace. "We got a description of the woman that picked up Shane, and Stacey wil poke around the hotel some more. I’m going to track down Barney’s last flop. Do you have any idea where he was staying?"

Alex shifted, grimacing as the pain stabbed at her. "I don’t know." There was a pause, then she opened her eyes. "Hey, didn’t he used to rent a room out of that stupid strip joint? What was it cal ed? Talisman?"

Jamie stopped her pacing. "Talisman? I’l check it out." She walked back to the bed and her fingers briefly pressed Alex’s shoulder. "You should rest. Can I get you anything when I come back?"

"Yeah, a burger. Oh, and fries too." Her eyes closed as the pain medication took effect.

Jamie stared down at her friend and smiled foolishly. It was good to have her back. She left quietly.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

A couple of days later, Jamie sat at the bar brooding over her coffee. She had stopped at Darcy’s after searching through Barney’s room. Her search had paid no dividends whatsoever. Al that she had found were porn videos, moldy take out boxes, and a pile of smel y clothes. There was nothing that would indicate what he had found, not one scrap of paper or scribbled note. Nothing. Now she glared into her cup, knowing that she had way too much caffeine coursing through her blood.

Darcy smiled at the pouting picture she made and was about to say something when the café door opened.

Jamie’s heart stuttered as Shane stood framed in the open doorway. Their eyes met and Jamie made as if to stand, but she remained sitting. Her reaction was not lost on Darcy, who stared curiously at the two of them as Shane approached tentatively and sat down beside Jamie.

"Shane what are you doing here? This is not a good idea."

Darcy, who overheard Jamie’s comment, froze midway between the kitchen entry way and the restaurant.

Shane touched Jamie’s arm gently. "I know, Jamie, but something told me that this is where I could find you. I was going to try at the station, but it would appear that you’re not formal y working on the case, are you?"

Jamie shrugged. "Real y?"

"I was visited by a nice detective with a very thick neck."

McCarthy. "I’m working it, just not quite official y," Jamie admitted.

Shane regarded her for a moment. Jamie felt the intensity of her stare and felt herself blush. She was uncomfortably aware that Darcy was somewhere in the restaurant, yet she couldn’t find it in herself to break the visual contact. Shane was the first to look away. Jamie frowned down at her cup.

Shane final y spoke. "I had lunch with Mrs. Carter. A nice lady. Lonely."

Jamie raised a brow."

Judge Reynolds’ secretary for ten years until her retirement two years ago. She was only too happy to talk about the good old days," Shane offered to Jamie’s unspoken question. Shane handed her a slip of paper. "This is the photographer that ‘his honor’ always used for his official portrait." She shrugged, as Jamie’s look sharpened. "Could be nothing, but I thought you might want to check it out."

Beaten by an amateur. Jamie didn’t know whether to be depressed by that fact or angry. She pocketed the paper.

Darcy, who had returned from the kitchen, saw that and felt the uneasiness stab at her. It wasn’t like her to feel unsure. Ordinarily she would have sauntered over and made a show of not caring, but now she stood frozen on the spot, wanting to escape as instincts screamed warnings of al kinds. She stared as if fascinated at the intimate tableau before her.

Unaware of Darcy’s presence, Jamie met Shane’s eyes and felt the impact of them again. Shane touched her arm. "Thanks. I’l take a look at it." Jamie’s voice was deeper than she wanted it to be.

Shane smiled slowly, the green eyes deepening as she saw the flush creep up and over Jamie’s cheeks.

Darcy had seen enough and turned to leave, her heart hammering in her chest. See, I told you good things don’t last, she thought furiously.

"Shane…" It was but a whisper. "I’m sorry. I’m involved with someone else."

Shane’s eyes flickered, whether it was from surprise or hurt was unclear. "Oh?"

"You and I…"

"…are an impossibility," Shane finished for her.

"Yeah. Bad timing. Somewhere between meeting you and now, I fel in love with someone else," Jamie replied.

Shane smiled with regret as she stood up. "I should leave before I make a fool of myself."

"Never that, Shane."

Their eyes met and Shane gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "She’s a lucky woman." She left quickly.

No. I’m the lucky one, Jamie thought.

She looked around for Darcy but Darcy wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Jamie pul ed out the slip of paper and looked at it again. She tugged her cel phone from her back pocket and dialed a number from memory.

"Stacey? I might have a lead on the photographer."

About an hour later, Darcy returned to the café from a walk around the block taken to clear her head. She saw that Jamie was gone and, finding no message, she felt the tears burn behind her eyelids. "Fuck…I refuse to cry over a damn woman," she swore, unaware that the tears were already rol ing down her cheeks.

***

Jamie and Stacey stood at the door of the smal , nondescript grey building. From the looks of the overflowing mailbox, Brian Mayer, the photographer, had not been home for several days.

"Now what?" Stacey asked after ringing the buzzer for the second time.

"We should go in and take a look," Jamie replied. She started to fiddle with the locks as Stacey looked on in surprise.

"Are you breaking in?"

"No. We are not breaking anything." Jamie pul ed a credit card out of her coat pocket.

Stacey sighed as she quickly looked around. The residential neighborhood was quiet, with most people probably at work. Stil … After watching Jamie struggle with the lock and her credit card, she pushed her out of the way. "If this gets out, I’m not taking the fal alone," Stacey muttered as she pul ed a smal black case from her inside pocket and extracted a thin pick. She had the lock snapping open within a few seconds.

Jamie stared at her open mouth. "Wow, Stacey…"

"Not one word," Stacey growled.

They entered quickly and shut the door behind them. Stacey flicked on her pen light, and the weak yel ow beam flickered in front of them. They were immediately struck with the smel of closed in rooms. Jamie sneezed at the dust. "I’l take upstairs, you take the main floor," Stacey instructed after a cursory look around.

Jamie raised an eyebrow at her. "I bet you like to be on top," she muttered. Stacey turned and gave her a heart-stopping smile. "You’l never know."

Jamie shook her head at that and watched Stacey go up the stairs. She then turned her attention to the main floor. It was sparsely furnished and divided on either side by a smal hal way. On one side was the living room and what looked like an office, on the right side and to the back was the kitchen with its efficient appliances. She was surprised by the neatness and by the fact that not one photograph existed anywhere. Wasn’t that strange? If this guy was a photographer, he didn’t bring his work home. As she searched further, she was disappointed not to find a dark room. What kind of photographer doesn’t have a darkroom at home?

She decided to concentrate on the smal room that he had converted into an office. The functional desk was bare except for the fine coat of dusk on its veneer surface. No computer, no notepads. The garbage can was empty. No envelopes or crunched up notes. It was too clean. She sighed in frustration.

The desk had three drawers. Three more strikes and I’m out. The first one was fil ed with pens, al bal point and black, and a white notepad. Not one doodle or scribble. Blank. Strike one. The second drawer was empty. Strike two. Sighing, she turned her attention to the third.

It was stuck, and she struggled with it until she was able to slide it open. There was a rustling sound to it as she poked about with her fingers, but she found it empty. She pul ed it out completely to peer inside and fished with her hand into the opening, but her hands only touched dust or so she wanted to believe. Her hand slid along the sides and again she heard the rustling sound. Final y, after pressing along the sides, she felt the bottom of the drawer give. What do you know, he has a false bottom…

She extracted the contents and was only mildly surprised to find a manila envelope that had been secreted in the crevice. She pul ed on a pair of thin gloves before peeling the tab open and pul ing out the pictures. She wasn’t aware of the scream that erupted from her throat. Staring back at her was a picture of her father with Sarah Timley, the missing eight-year-old girl who had turned up in pieces months before.

CHAPTER FORTY

It had been two days since she’d found the pictures and gave them to Stacey. Two days of avoiding al contacts, of hiding out at Madison and Lauren’s, while her nights were haunted by nightmares. She hadn’t spoken to Darcy; she hadn’t even talked to Madison about why she had showed up at their front door. Madison had respected her silence and was waiting it out. Jamie was unstable, jumpy and distracted. Al three moods col ided when the door to the bathroom opened while she was sulking in the shower and she saw Madison enter.

"God dammit to hel and back," Jamie yel ed. "I’m naked in here."

"I certainly hope so. I’d be more worried about you if you’d started taking showers with your clothes on. Bathroom’s about the only place I figure we can talk without you trying to escape. Especial y with you naked."

Jamie tugged the shower curtain back an inch. Through the steam, she watched Madison drop the lid on the toilet and sit.

"If I’m in the bathroom, it’s because I want privacy."

"Exactly so." Madison crossed her legs. "You need to snap out of it."

"Snap out of what?" Jamie yanked the curtain back into place and dunked her head under the spray. "Seems to me, there ought to be a little more respect around here. People bobbing into the bathroom while other people are wet and naked."

"From where I’m sitting, I don’t see that as a disadvantage." Madison grinned. "I want to know what is going on with you. The bags under your eyes are big enough to hold a week’s worth of groceries, you’ve lost weight, and somehow al of this is affecting Darcy. Her temper - never sterling to begin with - is getting ugly. And I’m thinking you’re the cause. So spil it."

Jamie snarled in the shower. "Go away, Doc. It’s none of your damn business."

The dismissal was the wrong approach to use with Madison. She rarely let her temper get the better of her, but today it did. She yanked the shower curtain open and stepped in, ful y dressed.

"What the hel are you…"

"Shut up, Jamie." Madison pushed her against the wal and held firm. Jamie, too aware of her nakedness, fought back weakly, embarrassment heating her body.

"What is going on?"

"I told you…" Jamie snarled, her eyes snapping open at Madison’s surprising strength.

"You told me squat. My friends, namely you and Darcy, are hurting, so I consider that my business. Dammit, Jamie, you made her cry," Madison shouted, shaking her a little.

Jamie stopped fighting. "Who? Darcy?"

Madison’s hold loosened as the water plastered her dark hair against her scalp and she felt her clothes cling wetly to her body. "You made her cry. Darcy never cries. Even the time when I beaned her with a basebal ."

"Oh God!" Jamie’s breath hitched and she started to cry.

"What? No…hey wait." There was panic now on Madison’s part. She hated tears. Jamie slid down into the tub and Madison knelt in front of her. "Jesus, Jamie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…"

"I love her, Maddie. I love her, and yet I think I’m losing my mind."

Madison reached over and turned off the water. She put her hand on Jamie’s bare shoulder. "Whoever said love was supposed to be sane?"

Jamie shook her head at that. "I’m in love with her, but I keep having dreams that involve someone else. But it’s al mixed up with a case. I’m damaged goods."

"Hmm… Maybe you should start at the beginning."

Jamie sighed. "I need to get dressed first. I feel weird discussing anything further with you while I’m buck naked."

"I’m a doctor. I see naked people al the time. " Madison smiled and stood up. "And from where I stand, it’s not a bad view." She held out her hand and helped Jamie up. She stared down at herself rueful y and realized that her cashmere sweater was probably ruined. "I need to change and then hide this sweater. It was a gift from Lauren."

Jamie looked at her and had to smile. "I’d forgotten how fierce you can be when you get pissed."

Madison made a face as she stepped out and grabbed a towel. She handed one over to Jamie. "Just don’t say anything to Lauren."

"What? About how we took a shower together and you saw me naked?" Jamie’s smile held a promise. "It wil be our little secret. Next time though, you strip. It’s only fair."

"Deal." Madison rubbed her hair then stood shivering in the clothes that felt like ice against her skin.

Jamie wrapped a towel around her body and stepped out. Madison heard her rummaging in the other room and then Jamie returned and tossed her a pair of sweats and a sweater. "Okay, let’s talk."

***

Jamie used her key and entered Murphy’s. The lights were stil on but the place was quiet. It was just after eleven and Darcy had closed the place early, which was unusual. As she stepped into the café, she found Darcy sitting at one of the tables, an al but empty bottle of wine next to her. And a glass half ful . She took another, closer look at her face.

"You’re plowed."

"Does that mean I’m drunk? If so, I’m forced to agree. I’m very, very, very drunk." She lifted her glass and managed to sip without pouring it down the front of her shirt. "I don’t know how it happened. Prob’ly ’cause I kept drinking."

Christ, she was cute, sprawled in her chair, her blue eyes bright and glowing. Her smile was, wel , Jamie thought, stupid.

"That’l do it." Gently Jamie braced a finger under Darcy’s chin to keep it from wobbling. "Did you eat anything?"

"Nope. Can’t cook. Sent the chef home." That was so funny, she sputtered with laughter. "Why are you here? Hi."

"Yeah. Hi." It was impossible to be anything but in love with her. She looked so sweet and so incredibly drunk. Jamie felt her heart squeeze for the pain she might have caused her by not cal ing her for two days.

"Let’s get you upstairs."

"Aren’t you going to kiss me?" With that she slid graceful y from chair to floor.

With an oath, Jamie reached down to pick her up.

She might have been drunk, but the auburn haired beauty had damn good aim. Darcy’s mouth fastened on Jamie’s in a long, eye-popping kiss.

"Missed you. I thought you had gone. Left me. It made me sad. See how pissed I am?" Riding on that and on the wine swimming in her head, Darcy flung out her arms to fasten them around Jamie. "Come down, okay? And kiss me again. It just makes my head go al funny and my heart pound. Want to feel my heart pound?" She snatched Jamie’s hand and slapped it over her breast. "Feel that?"

"Yeah." She could feel it al right. The heat of it made her fingers tingle. "Cut it out now." Her system was jangled. "You’re drunk, honey, and we need to talk first."

"I feel wonderful. Don’t you want to feel me?"

This time Jamie’s curse wasn’t quite as good-natured. She hauled Darcy up, unable to avoid the cheerful kisses being plastered over her face and neck.

"Stop it, Stretch." Her voice cracked with desperation as her body went on high alert. She was trying hard to remember that she needed to talk to her.

Sober. "Behave yourself."

"Don’t want to. Tired of behaving. I came face to face with my past this week. I thought I was losing you. Am I?"

"No, of course not. You’ve got me good, and I’m not that easy to shake off. I’m sorry. I want to tel you about my week."

"No." Darcy shook her head. She fumbled at the buttons of her lover’s shirt. "Just touch me."

Now Jamie was cursing, unable to hold on to her head as she carried her from the room and upstairs. Darcy giggled and Jamie nearly yelped when Darcy bit her ear, then stroked it with her tongue, wet and hot.

"I love you, Jamie. I love your mouth. And I love the way your chameleon eyes shift color. The way you feel against me. Can we have wine in bed?"

"No, and you’d better…" Jamie made the mistake of looking at her and their mouths fused together. The heat ran through, tormenting. With a long desperate moan, Jamie teetered on the stairs as she lost herself in the wonderful y wil ing lips. "Darcy." Her name was a plea. "You’re driving me crazy and I’m trying to remember you are drunk. Please, honey, cooperate."

"You came back."

Jamie stared at her. "Oh, Darcy, I love you so much; you have no idea. You have my heart. But we have to talk."

"No talking. Just kiss me. I want you inside of me. Feel how wet you’re making me." Darcy groaned. For one moment she almost sounded sober.

"Oh my God." As a prayer it was perfectly sincere. Jamie repeated it over and over again as she dumped her charge on the bed.

Before she could escape Darcy pul ed, tugged, and had Jamie flopping onto the bed. On top of her. "Feels good," Darcy sighed. Then arched. "Oh my…"

Jamie moaned. What was left of her mind scrambled and knew she was moments from coming. "Dammit. I’m not doing this. We have to talk, and you are in no condition to…"

"Okay," Darcy murmured. "Okay." Then she yawned hugely…and passed out.

Jamie lay there for several minutes fighting for breath, fighting for strength. She levered herself away from the passive body, vibrating. She looked down at her lover and had to smile. She would be one sorry woman.

***

The sun was up by the time Jamie returned to Darcy’s place. She was very surprised to see her already up and making coffee. She had expected her to sleep ’til noon, then wake up, pul the covers over her pounding head and pray for a quick, merciful death. It threw her to find Darcy pale, heavy-eyed, stil in her robe. Her hair was definitely wet, which meant she’d probably tried to drown herself in the shower.

"Hi there."

Darcy’s smile was sheepish. "Hi."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Tired." Cautiously she cleared her throat. "I guess I got carried away."

"You were drunk as a skunk."

"I want to thank you for carrying me to bed."

Jamie felt completely thrown. She had expected to be the one in control, coming to comfort and then gently explain. The calm woman in front of her was nothing like what she had pictured. She frowned. "No headache?"

"No. I don’t real y get hangovers." Darcy pushed a hand. She tightened the sash around her bathrobe, then poured cream into her cup.

Jamie shook her head. No hangovers? "Do you remember what was said?"

"Yeah. Most of it." Darcy shifted under the intent gray eyes.

Jamie studied her. "Darcy, we need to talk."

Darcy nodded, swal owing slowly. We need to talk. That was never fol owed by good news. She knew, having said it to others too many times before.

They walked through to the living room and sat down. Jamie wanted to pace but forced herself to sit facing Darcy. She stared at her, trying to find the words, and found herself suddenly nervous under the watchful blue gaze.

"Two days ago, a woman came here to see me. Her name is Shane…"

Darcy stiffened, but that went unnoticed by Jamie who suddenly could not think of how to explain what she had gone through. Her mind scrambled, trying desperately to retrieve the words she had rehearsed on her way over. The words had fled the moment she had looked at Darcy, and now she felt tongue-tied.

She tried again. "Shane is the woman I had a one night stand with, the one who was also photographed with my father." There was a pause. "Wel , I was with her more than that one time but…that time also felt like a one night stand kind of thing." That didn’t sound right, Jamie thought.

Darcy’s eyes narrowed. More than once? She fought her temper down.

"She came to see me the other day because she had the name of a photographer that my father used. I had gone to see her the week before to ask her about it. Then she kissed me and…"

She kissed her? This time Darcy’s eyes heated."

…then I had this dream and it was al wrapped up in the case and it scared me." She shifted under the penetrating gaze. This was not going as planned.

She cleared her throat. "Two days ago we located the photographer, and I found pictures of my father with this little girl who went missing. It messed me up. And I couldn’t figure out what to do, but now…" Jamie stopped as Darcy launched herself from her seat and started to pace. Her temper was bursting out after al .

"Messed up? Are you better now? Feeling okay?"

"Yes."

"Al your faculties intact?"

"Yes." Jamie frowned at her."

She going to kiss you again?"

"No. I told her that…"

"No more one night stands?" Darcy interrupted.

Jamie’s eyes narrowed. "No." This was real y, real y not going the way she had planned. "Listen, Darcy, I wanted to say I’m sor…"

"Shut up, Jamie," Darcy snarled as her fury erupted. "You know I’ve been sitting for two lousy days feeling sorry for myself. How stupid is that? Now you’re calmly sitting here tel ing me that only days ago you kissed a woman you had a one night stand with. Days ago! And if that’s not bad enough, when she showed up again, you disappeared for two days. Without a word to me."

Jamie was struggling to get control of the conversation as wel as her temper. "I said she kissed me, I didn’t say I kissed her."

"Whatever. Details." Darcy waved that away. "I’m only going to say this once." She stood glaring at her. "I love you, goddammit. And it’s al your fault.

There wil not be another woman for you or for me. ’Cause the next woman that kisses you who’s not related to you better be me or I’l have to hurt her and you both."

Jamie stood up. "Real y?" Why, she is just perfect, she thought with delight.

"Real y. I know you’ve had a shitty time of it. I can’t even imagine what this case has done, where you can put al that stuff at the end of your day. But the next time you decide to disappear, I’m going to hunt you down."

"Is that right?" Jamie stared at her. Darcy in ful fury was the most breathtaking thing she had ever seen and she felt the arousal spread through her body.

"So now you’re tel ing me what to do?"

"Somebody should. Especial y when you are acting stupid. I’ve said my piece. Now what are you going to do about it?"

Jamie smiled slowly. "Wel …to put it in terms you wil understand, I’m going to fuck your brains out, Stretch."

***"

How are things?"

Alex smiled, shifting slightly. She was final y home, and that alone had improved her mood. She had lost weight and was stil unable to completely lift her left arm without pain, and her bruises were now a nice shade of yel ow, but she was home with Megan. That was al that mattered. "Better. Megan has toned down her hovering; I’ve toned down my grumpiness. Al in al , not bad." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Something’s not right with Megan, though. She’s jumpy, and every time I mention going back to work, she gets this look on her face."

"Give her time, Alex. This was scary for her, too. She almost lost you."

Alex wanted to change the subject. "So, what’s been happening?"

"I came face to face with the possibility that I might be the daughter of a monster. That scared me."

"Jamie, you are not him."

Jamie shrugged. "Yeah, but there is a part of him that lives in me."

Alex took her hand. "You and I both know that no one is pure evil. Tel me what happened."

"Shane came to me with the name of a photographer that the judge used, a Brian Mayer. Stacey and I tracked down his place but didn’t find him. It looks like he hadn’t been around for days. We found pictures, though. One in particular. A picture of my father smiling away with his arm around a cute girl." She took a deep breath, the horror of it stil fresh. "Sarah Timley."

Alex’s eyes widened then she closed them. "No shit?"

"Shook me up some. I mean - what the hel does that mean? McCarthy took over and found out that at some point the judge was dating this nice paralegal secretary."

"Sarah Timley’s mother," they said together.

"Yeah."

"Do we think she kil ed him?"

"No, it appears she’s got a tight alibi." Jamie sighed, her frustration clear. "I’m surrounded by coincidences. And you know how much I can’t stand coincidences." They smiled at each other. "I have a man who abused young girls, dates a woman who has one, then the girl ends up dead, right around the time he winds up with a bul et in his head."

"Those are pretty big coincidences," Alex agreed.

Jamie pushed a hand through her hair. "Yeah. So now I’m thinking of the next steps, and what I need to do next."

"Which wil be what?" Alex asked. Jamie shrugged. "I don’t know. I’m not even supposed to be working on this case."

"I would think that we have to find the missing photographer."

They both turned at the voice coming from the doorway. Stacey stood there, smiling calmly, and Alex grinned at her. She felt better knowing that Jamie would have help until she was back on her feet.

"We?" Jamie asked, eyebrow lifting.

"Yeah. We. You can’t pick a lock worth a damn, so somebody should help you out until Alex is ready to come back."

"Fine." Jamie acted as if she was capitulating, though deep down inside she was relieved to get the help. "You are definitely a top," she muttered.

Stacey’s smile would have melted steel. "Let’s just say I like to keep my options open."

Jamie shook her head and turned and caught Alex’s chuckle. "Oh sure, both of you laugh it up. But when my boss finds out I’m meddling in a case I shouldn’t and the DA is helping me in an investigation, we’l see who has the last laugh."

They continued to grin at her and Jamie threw up her hands in exasperation. "Fine. I’m going home to have a chat with the ghost I think lives there, and to wait for Darcy to make up her mind to move in with her stuff."

It took a moment for the words to register, but as they did Alex’s mouth dropped open. "What? Darcy is moving in with you?"

Jamie turned at the door. "Oh…did I forget to mention that?"

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Jamie and Stacey settled in at a little al -night diner. Coffee thick enough to walk on came first, served by a sleepy-eyed waitress wearing a cotton candy pink uniform and a plastic name tag that declared her to be Midge.

Jamie perused the hand-written menu under its plastic coating, then propped an elbow on the scarred surface of the coffee-stained linoleum that covered their table.

An ancient country-and-western tune was twanging away on the juke and the air was redolent of the thick odor of frying grease. Breakfast was served twenty –four hours a day.

Stacey added cream to her coffee and stirred. "Is he dead, do you think?" she asked in reference to Mayer.

Jamie chewed the inside of cheek. "Dead or hiding out. You know what bothers me the most about the whole thing? Where is his studio? He’s a photographer, but he’s got no studio."

"From what I hear, he worked in hotel rooms."

Jamie toyed with her spoon. "Yeah. But stil … And where is his darkroom? He had to develop his pictures somewhere. I mean, that kind of subject matter does not al ow for walking into a Wal-Mart for their same day processing. Maybe we missed something back at his place."

"Maybe. To be frank, the screaming pretty much stopped my search in its tracks."

Jamie felt the heat touch her cheeks. "I’m sorry about that."

Stacey studied her. "About that, want to talk about it?"

Jamie looked away. "Nothing personal, Stacey, but no."

Something flickered in the brown eyes. "Okay." She pul ed her notepad from her back pocket. "So, I think we should go back to his place, search it further."

"Okay." There was a pause. "Stacey?"

Stacey turned her attention back to Jamie.

"There are things in my past when it comes to my father that are extremely painful for me. The pictures brought it al back."

Stacey frowned. "Sure. No problem."

"No, it’s just…" Jamie hesitated, but if she and Stacey were going to get anywhere in the investigation, they had to trust each other. She took a deep breath. "The judge was my father."

Stacey’s eyes widened. She looked at Jamie for a moment, then surprised her by gently touching her hand. "I’m sorry."

"And, I slept with Shane, our suspect, the night of his murder."

Stacey’s eyes narrowed fractional y. "Anything else?"

"Wel , you already know about my seeing Darcy. Oh yeah. I’ve been ordered to stay away from this case by my superior." She had to smile at the look on Stacey’s face.

"You are stil a cop right?" Stacey final y said.

"Of course."

"Good. For a minute there I thought things were going to get complicated."

***

They broke into the photographer’s apartment again. The mailbox was stil stuffed with flyers and bil s, the air stil felt closed in, and yet they both knew that someone had been there recently. They looked at each other then crouched low as they entered the living room. Only silence met their stealthy approach.

After a cursory look around, Jamie figured that whoever had been there was long gone. They went back to the smal room where she had found the pictures.

"What are we looking for?" Stacey asked. The bottom drawer was stil lying on the floor where it had been left.

"Anything."

"Wel , that narrows it down." Stacey’s mouth curved slightly as they started their search.

Jamie went back to the desk and stared at it, then wrenched out another drawer. She searched it, turning it over, checking the underside, the back, then tossing it aside and yanking out another. On the third try, she found another with a false back. She had missed it on that first search. Her quick grunt of approval had Stacey turning, watching her take out a penknife and pry the wood. Giving up her own search, she joined Jamie. By tacit agreement, she gripped the loosened edge and tugged while Jamie worked the knife around. Wood splintered from wood. They switched jobs. Jamie got a splinter, swore, and continued to peel back the wood. Al at once, the false piece popped free.

Jamie took the knife again and cut through the tape affixing a key with a smal tag to the back of the drawer. "Safety deposit box. Local bank," she muttered.

***

They hadn’t worked out the details of how to get into the safety deposit box at the bank. Banks usual y required identification or a signature match, or a warrant. Jamie couldn’t very wel go to a justice of the peace and ask for a warrant when she wasn’t even suppose to be working on the case. Wel she could, but then her superior would have to be told and she would probably be suspended. And they were so close to cracking this thing. She could feel it.

They decided to try flashing their badges and bluffing their way in. As they left the apartment, neither paid any particular attention to the blue van pul ing up to the curb. Jamie absently glanced at the two men who were stepping out of it and was about to say something to Stacey when the hair at the back of her neck rose. One of the men, the passenger, nodded in their direction and Jamie knew it meant trouble. "We’ve been made. Run!"

They dashed to the car, and Jamie was already pul ing out as Stacey was diving in. She caught the glint of moonlight off the van as the two men jumped back in and squealed after them. "Grab on to something." She spun the car into a fast U-turn, riding two wheels over the opposite curb. Her bumper kissed lightly off the fender of a sedan, and then she was screaming down the quiet suburban street at sixty miles per hour. She took the first turn with the van three lengths behind.

"You remember how to use a gun?"

Stacey threw her a disdainful glance. "Please."

Jamie nodded in the general direction of the glove box. "Let’s hope you don’t have to. Put your seat belt on."

Stacey glanced at the side mirror. "They’re closing in. Just drive."

Jamie wound through the streets like a snake, tapping the brake, flooring the gas, whipping the wheel so that the tires whined. The chal enge of it, the speed, the insanity, had Jamie grinning. "I like to do this to music." And she switched the radio on and cranked the volume up to blaring.

"You’re crazy." But Stacey found herself grinning back. "Beats being in court any time." They both heard the ping of metal against metal as a bul et hit her rear fender.

"Now they’re getting nasty," Jamie muttered.

"I think they are trying to shoot the tires." Stacey grabbed the gun, then popped out the window to waist level and fired at their pursuers.

"Are you crazy?" Jamie’s heart jumped into her throat and nearly had her crashing into a lamppost. "Get your head back in here before you get it blown off."

Grim-eyed, too wired to be afraid, Stacey fired again. "Two can play." With the third shot, she hit a headlight. The fourth got a tire, and the sound of squealing and of crunching metal fil ed the night. "I hit them. Bastards! I think they are coming to a stop," she shouted, stil hanging out of the window.

Jamie watched in the rear view mirror as the van smash into a parked car and come to a stop, then she threw an amazed look at Stacey. "I can see. I don’t need a damn play-by-play. Get back in here. Strap in this time." She hit the on-ramp and sped into the night.

"We lost them." Stacey grinned at the driver, eyes a little wild.

Jamie glanced at her, shaking her head at the picture she presented.

Stacey leaned over and kissed her right on the mouth. "You’re good, Saunders."

"Damn right. So are you." They grinned at each other, then Jamie slowed the car to a more manageable speed and started to retrace her steps. "Do you have a car? ’Cause we have to ditch this one; they know it. Whoever the hel they are."

Stacey grimaced. "No, mine’s in the shop."

Jamie’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel as she considered her next move. She pul ed her cel phone from her front pocket and dialed quickly.

"Hey, Darcy. Listen, my car just died. Battery, I think. Can I…oh…yeah, okay. No, I have a couple of things left to do stil . I was going to drop in on Alex later, too. Sure. See you later." She threw the phone on the seat and glanced at Stacey, who was looking at her inquiringly. "She said, ‘you touch my car and you die’."

Stacey burst out laughing. Jamie frowned. "I guess we can always borrow Alex’s car."

"I guess. Seems safer that way," Stacey deadpanned.

Jamie rol ed her eyes as she maneuvered the car through traffic at a more law-abiding pace.

***

They decided to leave Jamie’s car a few blocks from Alex’s place as a precaution and walked the rest of the way. There was no way of knowing who was chasing them or how much they knew. The fact that there were two bul et holes in her trunk had Jamie’s temper just on the edge of becoming an eruption.

Unexpectedly Madison and Lauren were already at Alex’s, enjoying a glass of wine. "Hey!"

Taken aback by their presence, Jamie hesitated in the doorway. She mental y revised her plan of discussing the case with Alex. "You remember Stacey?"

she said by way of greeting. Megan turned and offered them a glass of wine. By now, the adrenaline that had kicked in during the chase was dissipating and the reaction of being shot at was settling in. Feeling her legs start to weaken, Jamie sat down. She glanced quickly at Stacey, who seemed to be bearing up. They exchanged looks and Alex, who was watching them, knew that something had happened. "So, how’s it going?" Alex asked casual y.

"Just fine. Listen, I need to borrow your car."

"Why? What’s wrong with your car?"

"I…there was a bit of an incident."

"Incident?" Darcy’s question came from behind Jamie and made her jump.

"People have got to stop sneaking in and out of rooms," Jamie muttered.

"I was in the washroom. What incident? You told me your battery died."

Jamie shifted. "I didn’t want to worry you, that’s al ." She felt the heat spread up her neck.

"Smooth," Stacey said under her breath. Jamie ignored her.

"What’s wrong with your car, Saunders?"

When Darcy used her last name, in just that tone, it was never good. Jamie hunched her shoulders as Darcy crossed the room to the fridge to pul a beer out. She untwisted the cap and took a long gulp, keeping her blue eyes steady on Jamie.

"I’m fine," Jamie reassured her.

"For now." Darcy’s tone implied that this condition would not last long.

"What happened?" Alex asked.

"We went back to the photographer’s place and found a key, and on our way out, we were sort of chased by a couple of guys in a van."

"What?" they al erupted.

"It’s fine. We lost them."

"Where’s your car now?" Alex broke in.

"We ditched it a few blocks away. There are a couple of bul et holes in it." Jamie avoided Darcy’s stare. She felt the heat of it, nonetheless.

"Seems to me we need to figure out who shot at you," Alex said, breaking the tense silence.

"What do you mean we? It’s Stacey and me. You stay put and get better."

"What transportation are you going to use?" Alex asked smugly.

"I’m going to borrow your car, that’s what," Jamie replied, temper roiling.

"Not without me in it."

"If you go, I go," Megan cut in, eyes turning frosty. She wasn’t letting Alex out of her sight.

"Me too," Darcy chimed in.

"Why you, for God’s sake?" Jamie asked, exasperated.

"Some thug takes a shot at my girlfriend, riles me some."

"We wil have to retrace your steps," Madison supplied helpful y.

"Figure out who hired this photographer," was Megan’s contribution.

"For the last time, there is no we," Jamie final y yel ed. She had the sudden sensation of having been dropped into a bad French farce or a screwbal comedy. She half expected everyone to start piling into a tiny Mini to speed off after the bad guys. "Look, you guys, I appreciate you al wanting to help, but this is a police investigation not a party. Leave it to the experts. I mean…" She turned to Stacey, who sat there amused. "Say something."

Stacey shrugged. "Hey, it stopped being a normal case the night you slept with our prime suspect."

***

Stacey approached the counter and waited until the tel er was free to help her. Jamie stood back near the chairs and tried to ignore the attentive stare of the guard. She watched Stacey chat with the tel er and wondered how she could get a justice of the peace to sign a warrant without being the officer on the case. Maybe she would need Alex to do it. She was about to cal her when Stacey returned with a smirk. "We’re in."

"How did you manage that?" Jamie asked.

"I’m taking her out to dinner one night next week."

"What?" Jamie looked at her in amazement. "I think you are beginning to scare me."

Stacey grinned at her. "Come on, before she changes her mind."

They walked into the tiny vault and were left alone with the box. Before opening it, Jamie shot a questioning look at Stacey, who shrugged as if to say

‘what the hel ’. Jamie lifted the lid and found a bulky manila envelope and an undeveloped rol of film. She shoved the film into her front pocket, held on to the envelope, and put the box back. Just in case someone might be about to take exception to their presence, Jamie didn’t want to take the time to look inside the envelope. Better to go somewhere they could look at the contents at their leisure.

They once again found themselves in the diner, being served by a sleepy eyed Midge who showed no interest whatsoever in getting them more than the coffee they ordered as she went back to the tabloid newspaper she had been reading. Jamie had the envelope in hand, but toyed with it rather than opening it. She could not bring herself to look inside. Stacey watched her and waited.

Jamie frowned, lost in thought. Darcy was pissed, that had been obvious. Just from the look she had thrown her when Jamie had insisted on leaving alone. Jamie could not think of a way of avoiding that. Alex was upset, too. But Jamie couldn’t please everybody. She thought it ironic that Stacey was the only one not upset with her at the moment. It was probably just a matter of time.

Stacey continued to look at her and final y sighed. She reached out and took the packet from Jamie’s grasp. "Maybe I should take a look." Jamie made a face but made no move to stop her. Stacey pul ed the lone picture out of the packet and stared at it for a moment, her expression inscrutable. She handed Jamie the picture. Heart hammering Jamie glanced down at it.

The picture was of a woman about their age, dark haired and pretty. She was staring back into the camera with a sad expression. "Do you recognize her?

" Stacey asked. Jamie shook her head. "Maybe she is our missing accomplice."

"Maybe. It might be time to pay another visit to your lady judge."

Jamie frowned. "She’s not mine."

Stacey shrugged, turning her attention back to the picture. Something tugged at her as she stared at the photograph. But whatever it was, was il usive, a whisper, thin as a wisp of smoke. Just as quickly, the thought or whatever it was had evaporated.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

"That’s her. That’s the woman I met that night," Shane recal ed as she stared at the picture

."Are you sure?" Stacey asked.

"I’m positive." Shane looked over at Jamie and their eyes met. Jamie was the first to look away. She was uncomfortable sitting there next to a woman with whom she had been intimate. A woman for whom she knew, much to her annoyance, a degree of attraction remained. She could feel it pul ing at her. It shimmered between them as they sat there. She shifted and caught Stacey’s interested look.

After a beat, Stacey turned her attention back to Shane. "Thank you for your time." She stood up and waited for Jamie, who fol owed her more slowly.

At the door Jamie turned, feeling like she needed to say something. "Shane…"

Shane smiled at her, a smile tinged with regret. "Jamie, just go. It’s okay."

Head bowed, Jamie fol owed Stacey out of the house. At the car Stacey turned to her. "Jamie, want my advice?"

"No."

Stacey smiled. "I’l give it to you anyway. Stay away from her. Sometimes even when we have the best of intentions, the moment gets away from us."

Jamie frowned at her, most annoyed by the fact that Stacey could read her so wel without real y knowing her. "I’m beginning to remember that I don’t like you."

Stacey was amused rather than offended by her response. "Yeah, I get that al the time."

Jamie smiled at her and Stacey’s look sharpened. She continued to study her for a long moment. "Wel , I’l be damned," she whispered.

"What?" Jamie shifted impatiently as Stacey continued to stare at her. "Do I have dirt on my face or what?"

"Where’s that picture?" Puzzled, Jamie gave it to her.

Stacey studied the photo and then looked back at Jamie. She handed the photo back to her. "See anything familiar?" she asked.

Jamie looked at it again and frowned. "No."

"You. The girl looks like you."

***"

I see it." Darcy looked at the picture, then back at her lover. The resemblance was there in the slashing cheekbones, but mostly it was the eyes - the shape of them, the smoky gray color. After her pronouncement, Darcy left them to grab a pot of coffee.

They had made their way from Shane’s directly to Murphy’s. The reason she had given Stacey for the side trip was that they should get a second opinion regarding the photograph. The truth was simply that Jamie wanted to be near Darcy, but would never admit to her need. Her feelings were too complex to analyze. She was unsettled by her persistent reaction to Shane uneasy about their latest discovery, but more importantly she was desperate for Darcy’s touch.

They sat at a corner table as Darcy returned. Without thinking about it, her hand brushed Jamie’s shoulder gently, possessively. Jamie looked up at her.

Their eyes met, and the look in Darcy’s eyes eased Jamie’s tension. They were okay. She didn’t look mad anymore.

Stacey was frowning over the picture. What the hel did they have now? Every time they inched forward in their search, something blew up at them that sent them in a different direction. Now they had found someone she would have laid odds was Jamie’s sister. It was also likely that this woman had participated in her father’s sick games. Her eyes shifted to Jamie, worried now.

Jamie rubbed at the headache brewing across her forehead. "I’m so confused that for the life of me I can’t figure out what the next step should be."

She had another sister. Instinct told her so. This stranger with familiar eyes and a familiar wounded expression was related to her; she recognized the look as the same one she had had for years. She felt the nausea burn the back of her throat. She was afraid. No, that wasn’t true. She was terrified of what would come next.

Darcy sat down beside them and, sensing Jamie’s internal turmoil, took her hand.

Stacey watched them, feeling a pang of envy. Loneliness settled uneasily over her shoulders. She sighed that feeling away. "We need to find her."

Jamie nodded unhappily.

***

It took them a week. Jamie had remembered the rol of film in her pocket and gotten it developed. There were several shots of the mystery woman. As they sat poring over them, looking for clues, Stacey fingered one of the photos. "He loves her."

"Who?"

"Whoever took this photo. I’m thinking Mayer. He loves her and she knows it. She is looking directly at him and smiling just for him. Look at the soft focus, the way he framed her. It’s different than the other pictures."

Alex nodded. "You might be right." She absently flipped through the rest, then her gaze sharpened on one. "Hey, guys, look at this one. Notice the address?" They al turned their attention to the one of the woman standing in front of a tidy brownstone. To her left was an oval plaque with a number on it.

"I can’t make it out," Jamie said. "Anyone have a magnifying glass?" Minutes later they were looking through the magnifying glass that Stacey had provided from the kit in the trunk trunk of her car. "Twenty-one Bank Street." Jamie met Alex’s eyes and swal owed hard. "Let’s go pay a visit."

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Stacey drove, with Alex sitting beside her. Jamie was in the back seat staring unseeingly out of the window. Her heart was hammering as she wondered if she was strong enough to face the unknown woman, the half sister who might also be their father’s kil er. More worrisome was that if she had done it, Jamie could not hate her for it. She had wished it thus too often herself.

Alex shifted to look at her. "Are you sure about this, Jamie?" She was concerned for her friend, wanting to spare her more pain.

Jamie nodded. "I need to; I need to know."

Alex glanced at Stacey, who looked equal y worried, and took a deep breath. "Okay." Her face became set in that calm detached look that hid al her thoughts, and she watched Jamie shift into the same mode.

They al got out of the car and filed into the building. At the fourth door they got lucky when they found the tenant home. She barely glanced at the photograph before pointing them to the door marked 5B and closing the door in their face.

"Friendly neighborhood." Stacey whispered.

Alex stood in front of it and rapped on the door while Stacey and Jamie stepped back into the shadows on either side of her. There was a long pause, and they were about to turn away when the door final y opened.

"Hel o, I’m detective Alex Ryan, I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of your time."

The woman from the photograph looked startled but after a brief hesitation and a quick glance at her badge, stepped back to let her in. Her surprised look turned to shock when her eyes fel on Jamie. Her gasp was loud in the sudden quiet and her face paled. "Who are you? What do you want?" She looked afraid now, panicked.

Jamie’s heart twisted. She recognized that trapped look. "I’m Jamie. We might have someone in common."

They moved to the living room. The woman sank onto the couch, her eyes never leaving Jamie. Jamie sat across from her and met the gray eyes. "What is your name?" she asked gently.

"Kel y. Kel y Tanner."

"Kel y, this is difficult, I know. I’m just as shocked as you are. But I think I might be your sister." Jamie’s voice shook a little as she spoke. "Was your father Tomas Reynolds?"

"Yes." It was a whisper. Her eyes were wide, like those of a deer caught in headlights.

Jamie’s eyes closed briefly. "He was my father, too."

"Are you aware that he died a few months ago?" Alex broke in.

Kel y nodded and her face paled even more.

"When was the last time you saw him?" Alex asked.

"A little over two years." Kel y’s eyes turned once more to Jamie. "He...he was not a very nice man. After years of therapy, I final y was able to exorcise him from my life." She looked like she was recovering her equilibrium. "Were you close?" she asked of Jamie.

"No. He was a bastard. I last saw him thirty years ago." Jamie frowned. She had not expected to feel a tug from the woman sitting across from her, but she felt it. That tender cal to the heart. Her jaw tightened and she forced the feeling away. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-nine." Younger. She had a younger sister. Jamie felt the headache return and her helpless look found Alex’s.

Alex shifted nearer. "We need to ask you where you were the night of June 26th."

"June 26th?" Kel y frowned. "I don’t remember."

"You don’t remember?" Stacey spoke for the first time. Kel y turned to Stacey looking surprised, as if noticing her for the first time.

There you are, Stacey thought as their eyes engaged and she felt recognition spear through her. She blinked to clear her mind. What the hel was that?"

No, I don’t. But then again I don’t remember what I did last night either." She gave her a half smile then stood up and walked over to a smal table where a black briefcase sat. Looking inside, she took out a date book and flipped through the pages. "June 26th, I was in class - Ethics and the Law." At Stacey’s look of inquiry, she shrugged. "I’m studying law."

"Can someone vouch for you being in class?"

"What?" She frowned at Alex now. "I suppose my whole class, my professor. We had to write an exam that night, so yeah." Then it was as if something suddenly clicked. "Are you asking me if I have an alibi?"

Alex shrugged. "We are stil looking for your father’s kil er. We are questioning everyone. Your whereabouts are of interest to us for a variety of reasons."

"Which are?" She crossed her arms and glared at Alex.

This was no longer the scared woman of a few minutes before. This was a furious soon- to-be lawyer who looked suspiciously like her sister in that anger.

The resemblance to Jamie would have been amusing under different circumstances. She ignored the question for the moment. "Do you know a Brian Mayer?"

The question threw Kel y but she recovered. "I might."

"Wel , we are looking for him too. Do you have any idea where he is?"

The hesitation was brief but was not lost on the three women. "No."

"Are you sure?" Alex persisted. "Because he hasn’t been seen at his house since the murder and so we are wondering if he is okay."

"Like I said, I haven’t seen him in ages."

"Wel ...if he does get in touch with you, we would appreciate a phone cal ." Alex handed her a card. "We wil also need a list of names, your professor, your classmates." She stood up. "I would strongly recommend that you not leave town, Miss Tanner."

Kel y’s eyes flickered but she nodded, then her attention turned once again to Jamie. "Are you an only child?" Jamie froze in the doorway. She turned and her smile was sad. "No, I have a twin sister. Identical. We wil be in touch."

***

Each lost in thought, they stepped out into the dusk. The stil ness of the night was shattered when somebody shot at them. Jamie froze, not believing that anything like that could happen again, outside of the movies. Stacey grabbed her and yanked her down on the sidewalk behind the parked car, and Alex crouched beside them as another bul et whined overhead and buried itself in the trunk. Alex winced as her sudden movement jarred her stil -injured side.

She pul ed out her gun. "You guys sure are popular."

"Tel me about it," Stacey growled. "It’s starting to piss me off."

Alex peered over the hood in the direction the shot had come from. There was only silence. Whoever it was had either fled after the warning shots or else was out there waiting. She hated waiting. "Anyone feel like running?"

Jamie nodded, automatical y understanding what Alex wanted to do. "Let’s go."

"Where are we going?" Stacey asked.

"You should stay put. We are going to try and smoke him out. Keep your head down and we wil come back for you."

Stacey shook her head. "No way. I’m not missing out on the fun."

After a brief hesitation, Alex nodded once. "I’l go left, you guys go right. We’l see who he real y wants." She shifted, grimacing at the pain. "Now!" she shouted, and they took off running with guns drawn.

Jamie heard footsteps take off and shouted to Alex, "He’s running!"

They started chasing after him. One block, two blocks, then he cut through a backyard and they split up - Jamie fol owing him, while the others ran around to try and head him off from the other side. He climbed the fence and fired wildly behind him before fal ing to the other side. The bul et lodged in a tree inches from Jamie.

"You little fuck!" she snarled, fol owing him up and over the fence, gun poised ready to fire as she jumped to the other side. He hadn’t waited and was running back to the street.

"Drop it!" Alex yel ed. "Drop the fucking gun!" Someone fired, and the sound of a scuffle ensued. By the time a panting Jamie reached them, he was lying face down, his hands cuffed behind his back. "You shot me," he spat at Alex

."Barely. Brian Mayer, I presume?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"Tsk...tsk. Now is that the correct attitude to take with someone who just saved your life?" Alex turned to Jamie with a smile. "I’m getting too old for this shit."

"Right back at you." Jamie wiped at the sweat from her forehead. "I haven’t run this much since that Lewiston robbery. Remember that?"

"Oh yeah; man, that was a fun one." She grimaced. "I’m going to be stiff tomorrow. Megan is going to kil me."

"I’m bleeding over here." he whined.

Stacey was staring at them as if they were al insane. "Shouldn’t we cal an ambulance or something?"

"I’m fine," Alex replied. She glanced at him. "Oh, you mean Mayer here?" She crouched down beside him. "We’l cal the ambulance when he tel s us why he has been shooting at cops."

"I just wanted to scare you a little. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I didn’t know you was cops."

"Mmm... Wel I appreciate that thoughtfulness. Why try to scare us?"

"I was just trying to protect Kel y."

Alex glanced at Jamie. "Why?"

"I need an ambulance; I’m bleeding to death here."

"In a minute. Why does Kel y need protecting?"

"She...she needs me to look after her. He’s been hurting her, you know?"

He shifted, but Alex’s hand kept him down. "Did you shoot her father?"

He glared at her then looked away. "I’m not talking until I get a lawyer."

Alex stood up. "Suit yourself. Let’s go pay Kel y another visit."

"Leave her alone!" He struggled, trying to get up, and swore when he was unable to manage it. "I should have aimed for your head, you bitch. Leave her alone." His voice broke.

Jamie knelt next to him. "Brian, I’m her sister, so I don’t want her hurt anymore either. I would have kil ed him myself, given the chance. Did you shoot him?"

He looked at her and his photographer’s eye noted the resemblance; tears started to rol down his cheek. "I didn’t mean to kil him. Kel y, she had read about the little girl that turned up dead, and she knew that he knew her because she had seen some of my pictures of the two of them together. Wel , she started crying and having nightmares and saying he needed to be stopped. I just wanted to scare him, but when I showed up, he was lying there on the floor not moving. I thought he was already dead. I just shot him to make sure. I did it for Kel y, so she could sleep again."

Jamie sighed and rubbed her eyes with a tired hand. She felt Stacey’s hand on her shoulder. It was a gesture of comfort but also of caution. She stood.

"Cal an ambulance, I’m going home," she told them. She started walking and didn’t look back. Alex and Stacey didn’t try to stop her; they just watched her go.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

They al gathered at Murphy’s a week later Lauren, Madison, Megan, Alex and Stacey. Darcy and Jamie stood behind the bar making drinks. Once everyone was served, Jamie grabbed a beer and leaned back against Darcy, who held her as she sat on one of the stools.

"You okay...with everything?" Alex asked Jamie.

"I’m living with everything. I stil haven’t told my mom or my sister about Kel y, but I wil . Finding out that you have a half sister so late in life takes some adjustment. Once the case against Mayer is over and done with, I might talk to her again."

They al sat quietly sipping at their drinks.

"Do you think the judge kil ed Sarah Timley?"

"I just don’t know." She would live with that, too, the never knowing. Justice didn’t always come as you expected. Darcy’s hand caressed her neck and Jamie let her head fal forward. She closed her eyes and thought back to earlier in the morning.

Darcy stood in the bedroom doorway watching Jamie get dressed. She smiled. "You know, Saunders, I used to think I wanted you to distraction because you were so contrary. Then when I had you, I decided I stil wanted you because I didn’t know how long I’d keep you."

"Is that a fact?" Jamie frowned at her, her gray eyes turning cool."That look right there, the one you’re wearing on your face right now. When I think it through, that’s the one that did it to me."

"Did what?"

"Had me fal ing in love with you. Then it kept creeping up on me, why no one ever pul ed at me the way you do, ever made me miss them five minutes after I walked out of the door the way you do. When I heard that someone was shooting at you, it made me crazy. I figure the only way to handle things and keep you safe is to move in with you."

"That’s your idea of a proposal?" But Jamie’s heart was tripping."You’ve never had better. No point in saying no; I’ve got my mind set on it."

"I’m thinking of saying no." But Jamie was smiling."I love you. I don’t want to live my life without you. You’ve been causing me frustration for the last fifteen years. You’re bad-tempered and exasperating, but it seems that turns me on." Darcy crossed to her and with a quick jerk, ripped Jamie’s shirt in two. "You see, that’s the damnedest thing, this loving you. Makes me do crazy things."

Jamie stepped into her arms. Her heart was so ful , she was surprised it wasn’t spil ing over. "Hold on, Stretch. Just keep holding on."

Jamie lifted her head and looked at her friends gathered around her. She loved them al . She couldn’t help herself even when they drove her crazy. They had cried and fought and barged into each others lives in the only way they knew how. Insisting on being heard. Determined not to be ignored and always, always loving each other despite it al . And somehow when the chips were down, when life got too messy, they ral ied around and pushed and pul ed and dragged you back into living it. Then her eyes found Stacey.

"Hey, Stacey, when was the last time you had a date?"

T

Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR