Tactical Pursuit

Copyright © 2012 by Lynette Mae

Acknowledgments

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

About the Author

Another Title by Lynette Mae

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Tactical Pursuit

by

Lynette Mae

Copyright © 2012 by Lynette Mae

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The characters, incidents and dialogue herein are fictional and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

ISBN 978-1-61929-073-0 (eBook)

eBook Conversion August 2012

Cover design by Donna Pawlowski

Published by:

Regal Crest Enterprises, LLC

3520 Avenue H

Port Arthur, Texas 77627

Find us on the World Wide Web at http://www.regalcrest.biz

Published in the United States of America

Acknowledgments

This story would not have been possible without the support of so many wonderful people. I thank my friends and family for their continued encouragement and love. Thank you, Andi Marquette and Chris Svendsen for your invaluable lessons and insights. Thanks to my wonderful betas, Sue Chittock, Elaine Burns, Doris Garden, and Sue Hilliker, for sound advice and the unselfish gift of your time. Thanks to the staff at RCE, especially the outstanding editing of Lori Lake and Patty Schramm. Finally, to Steve, my SWAT technical advisor, I’m so proud to call you my friend (and brother).

To all of my sisters and brothers who walk the Thin Blue Line: Be safe.

Dedication

For Sandy. Always.

Tactical Pursuit

by

Lynette Mae

Chapter One

Tampa, Florida, 1994

DEVON JAMES EASED her patrol car down the dank, narrow street, peering at the group of about twenty youngsters assembled in the darkness ahead. The branches of towering oak trees arched above her, reaching across the space, blocking the moonlight and casting the area in deeper shadows, obscuring the loiterers gathered in the middle of the block. Profanity-laced rap music blared from an unknown source, proudly chanting, “I’m ’bout to bust some caps off, I’m ’bout to dust some cops off.”

Devon thought an argument was going on within the group, or maybe they were just carrying on like angry adolescents living in the midst of crime and poverty.

“Adam Four, on scene,” Devon advised dispatch, putting her cruiser in park. Twenty feet from the gathering, she opened the driver’s door and exited cautiously, senses on full alert, taking in everything around her. She left her headlights on to provide lighting for her approach, but purposefully positioned herself outside of the beams, lest she make herself a silhouetted target. The darkness was her ally now.

Thick, humid air enveloped her, almost immediately drawing sweat from her pores and soaking into the t-shirt beneath her ballistic vest. A large bead rolled from her hairline down the side of her face. The fresh smell of rain still hung in the air, while the stench of neglect and decay rose up from the still-damp sidewalks and soggy discarded furniture abandoned at the curb. Bottles and empty chip bags floated in the puddles. As Devon plodded through in her black leather boots, avoiding the obstacles, she watched the group carefully, searching for a male who fit the description of the suspect in the call. He was said to be her height, five feet ten, with a low-fade haircut, dark-skinned, wearing a white t-shirt and baggie shorts. “That fits the description of half the freakin’ neighborhood,” she muttered.

Devon neared the group. Seeing her, several young men drifted away, out of the light, toward the buildings. The two-story, block structures were identical throughout the sprawling, dilapidated public housing complex. Each contained four apartments with two harsh cement slabs for a shared porch centered between the pairs of doors. Sheets hung in place of curtains in most of the small windows facing the street. Devon smelled the grease from a fryer mingled with the unmistakable pungent odor of marijuana hanging in the air.

“Five-O, Five-O!” More figures stepped back and away, into the shadows.

“Fuck the po-lice! Fuck the po-lice!” The voice raged from the speakers.

She moved forward warily, eyes scanning for overt movements. Then she spotted him. A kid at the back of the crowd. He wore the right clothing, but so did about ten others. What made this kid different was the way he looked at her, not just defiant, but brazen and sure, challenging. She knew him instantly. His posture screamed, “Try me, bitch.”

He nodded and grinned to the guy next to him. Devon eyed his hand as it reached slightly behind his right hip.

“He gotta gun!” a girl screamed.

In the next seconds the world erupted in frenzy even though everything went to slow motion in Devon’s mind.

The kid raised what appeared to be a gun. She couldn’t see it very clearly and reacted instinctively to the movement. The weapon’s outline became visible when he twisted it horizontally, no doubt mimicking some gangsta movie. Devon drew her pistol. “Drop the gun!”

People ran in all directions desperately trying to escape the impending danger. Some screamed, others yelled warnings. “Get the fuck outta here, that cop’s gonna shoot him!”

The commotion blurred into a loud buzzing sound in her head. She raised her pistol and shouted, “Drop the weapon!” Their eyes locked and his teeth sparkled white when he smiled. Again she yelled, keeping her gun at eye level and stepping to her right.

A flash burst from the muzzle of his gun. Rounds exploded from her own. Bang, bang. Double tap. The crowd screamed louder. Her bullets struck his torso. He jerked back from the force. The kid’s face morphed from the grin into a shocked expression. The arm holding his gun came up again.

The slide on her semi-automatic kicked back, ejected the spent shell, and slammed forward again, only to repeat the process. The kid fell.

Devon’s ears rang. She shouted into her shoulder mic, “Shots fired. I need an ambulance and expedite my backup.” Her breathing and heartbeat were amplified over the screams and shouts from the crowd. People ran everywhere. The kid’s associates now moved in. Someone yelled, “Get his mamma!” Aware that another in the crowd might be armed, Devon kept her gun trained on the group. She told the crowd to get back. They moved too slowly, so she yelled louder, “Back away! Now.”

DETECTIVE JOHNSON CLEARED his throat, pulling Devon back to the present. “So, once again Corporal, where were you when the suspect allegedly pulled his weapon?”

Allegedly. Devon stared at the Internal Affairs detective, fighting her rising irritation. It seemed as though he kept asking the same question in different ways, trying to trip her up, make her say something that he could and would use against her. Or catch her in a lie. Well, it wasn’t going to work because she was telling the truth. She looked past the detective out over the western downtown skyline beyond his eighth floor window. The police chopper hovered in the distance, somewhere between the performing arts center and the minaret spires of the university just across the river. Devon wondered if the pilot was Mac.

“Corporal?” She stared back at Detective Johnson and then over at the union representative seated next to her. He was the same guy who had responded the night of the shooting.

“Again, I was in the middle of the block, about twenty feet away from my car. The suspect was within ten feet of me.” The memory rolled through her mind. A loud bang made Devon jump, her heart racing. Sweat broke out on her brow. She sat up and scanned the room, searching for threats. Then she realized it was only the construction going on in the lot of the building next door.

The detective gave her an odd look. She pulled in a deep breath.

Johnson went on. “And the original call was a fight? With weapons?”

“Yes. I’m sure it’s in the radio call.”

She took in the appearance of the man on the other side of the desk. He looked older, likely near retirement. His outdated brown suit was ratty at the seams. He’d probably worn it for the last ten or fifteen years. It was no doubt the latest fashion back then. His striped tie clashed with the checkered shirt he wore and a reddish spot that looked like ketchup was conspicuous in the center. Devon wondered how old the stain was. The buttons on the front of his shirt virtually screamed for mercy with the force of his gut pressing against them from the inside trying to escape. Felony buttons. One wrong move and one’ll put my eye out. She rubbed a hand over her face to hide the smirk growing on her lips.

“Yes. Unfortunately, we've been unable to locate the person who placed that call.” He shuffled through his notes.

Devon knew better than to offer anything beyond the question asked in an Internal Affairs investigation, so she remained silent.

Behind him the helicopter banked northwest. Ironically, in a few seconds that would put it directly over the scene of the shooting. A telephone rang in the next office.

“So, you were going to arrest the suspect—”

“Detain him and check for weapons,” she corrected.

“Okay...detain him. Can you tell me why you didn’t wait for your backup to arrive?”

“As I said, the situation was fluid. I saw a kid matching the description of the suspect given in the call, and I wanted to stop him before he hurt anyone. If he disappeared into the crowd and did have a gun, then he would continue to be a danger. I made the decision to stop him.”

“And then he pulled the weapon? What type again?”

He was definitely trying to make her give a different answer. She took a deep breath and looked up at the clock on the wall before answering. Four-thirty. Christ, they’d been at this for over two hours. How many times did she have to tell him the same details? Not to mention the fact that all of this was documented in her written report from the night of the shooting. “He had a nine millimeter. Glock, I think.”

Detective Johnson gave her a critical look. “That just happens to match the description from the call.”

“Maybe because it’s the truth.” She refused to give this asshole any ground.

His mouth quirked up at the corner, like a twitch. “And you're on the SWAT team and serve as a defensive tactics instructor, is that correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“And yet, you had no other option than shooting the suspect?”

“We train officers to respond with an appropriate level of force. If a suspect is armed, the appropriate response is a firearm. I know you’ve been to our in-service training classes.”

The detective nodded and said nothing.

She remembered this guy now from their annual training day. His dismal level of fitness earned him a no-go on the physical abilities exam. Devon had been the lead instructor that day and infuriated him by not giving a passing score. That meant repeating the course. He had let her know he was none too happy about it. She figured now he was trying to exact a little payback on his turf. Whatever.

“When you approached him, he pointed the weapon at you, just like that?”

She took another long breath. I already told you, asshole. She heard a click and felt the cold blast from the air conditioning vent on the back of her neck. The little pink message notes on the metal stick next to his in-basket fluttered. “He initially turned away from me, as if to conceal what was in his right hand. The crowd scattered a little and started yelling. I heard someone shout something about a gun. I told him to put his hands in the air. I saw the pistol as his right arm came up. I stepped to the right, drew my pistol and ordered him to drop his weapon. He didn’t. He fired and I returned fire.”

“How many times did you fire?”

“Four.”

“That was necessary?”

“I fired until I stopped the threat.” Christ, this guy wanted her ass in a big way. The shooting was textbook. Devon knew she’d done everything correctly.

He shifted in his chair and it groaned under his weight. The sound, combined with the interrogation setting and detective’s demeanor, catapulted Devon’s mind back in time to another investigator just like this guy. Martin Honeycutt. The Army Criminal Investigations Division Chief who had made it his goal to end her military career ten years earlier. He hadn’t succeeded outright, but it had a direct affect on her decision to leave the army.

As a young lieutenant Devon had learned what it was like to be on the other side of the arrest. She’d spent almost seventy-two hours locked up and interrogated relentlessly for the heinous charge of loving another woman, Jillian Gray, who had been the love of Devon’s life. Honeycutt had coerced Jill with threats of outing her and Devon. He manipulated the specifics until Jill broke and made her deal, in doing so destroying their relationship. Not content with that, he’d pursued Devon for the rest of her enlistment. Finally, because he couldn’t dishonor her with facts, he falsified records to justify her arrest.

During her incarceration she was repeatedly abused and mentally and physically beaten. Now, here she was again under the microscope of suspicion. Anger simmered within her at the thought of enduring another unwarranted investigation because some jerk had an ax to grind. Fuck him.

“Then what happened?” Johnson asked. The union representative sitting next to her gave her a reassuring smile and a nod. She didn’t know him very well, but he had a good reputation.

“The crowd went a little nuts and surrounded me. A woman came rushing at me screaming that I’d shot her baby. I had to push her and several other people back, maybe family members, I didn’t know at the time. A few seconds later, my backup arrived. I had already called an ambulance for the suspect and administered first aid. We checked the area for the weapon, but it wasn’t there.”

“Maybe he wasn’t armed?”

“He had a Glock pistol and tried to shoot me.” Devon ran her hand through her hair in frustration.

“But the gun was not found?”

“No. Somebody in the crowd must have picked it up. But I know that we interviewed several people in the crowd who saw the suspect with a gun.”

“Yes,” the union rep concurred. “The original report states there were four witnesses. All confirmed they saw a gun.”

The detective nodded and jotted a few notes on the page in front of him. She hoped he hadn’t found some inconsistency to exploit. “Just one more question. How far were you from the nearest streetlight? Do you know?”

That question threw her. Why did he want to know that? Her mind scrambled to picture the corner where the shooting happened. Main Street had plenty of lighting, as did Union to the north, but it was very dark in the middle of the block. Devon recalled a light mid-way, but was it blocked by tree limbs or broken? Was it like many of the streetlights shot out by dope dealers who wanted to peddle their wares obscured by the shadows? Her brow furrowed as she thought.

“Uh…” She hesitated and then opted for the most honest answer she could think of. “It was very dark on the block. I’m not certain whether the light was out or covered by the trees. The night of the shooting, visibility was poor. That's why I'd left my cruiser lights on—to deal with the visibility issue.”

“Mmm, hmm.” He scribbled some more on his pad. “So the lighting consisted basically of porch lamps and your headlights?”

That seemed right. “Yes.”

“But, despite that, you’re sure he had a gun?”

“Yes.”

The detective leaned forward and spoke in the direction of the tape recorder on the desk. “This concludes my interview with Corporal Devon James.” He glanced at his watch. “The time is fourforty-five. Corporal, you are instructed not to discuss this case with anyone until the final disposition. Understood?”

“Yes.”

He punched the off button and stood, extending his hand. “Thanks for coming in. I’m sorry I had to do all that. I just wanted to show that you have been nothing but consistent with your statements.” He offered a smile. “Hopefully, we’ve covered all our bases. The lighting on the street could end up being important.”

Devon took his hand, chastising herself for making such negative assumptions. Maybe this guy was only trying to do his job. She reminded herself to leave the past in the past and stop letting her demons dictate her reactions. That was a different time and place. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Once out in the hall, the union guy became animated. “I think that went well, don’t you?”

Devon rubbed her eyes and rolled her shoulders, trying to work out the tension.

“Listen, based on that interview, I think everything’s gonna be fine for you.”

“Why do I feel like there’s a but?” She watched him closely.

“The kid’s mother came in with her attorney and delivered a pellet gun that she said her son was carrying that night. The lawyer says there’s gonna be a wrongful death lawsuit. The Chief was at a community meeting in West Tampa last night and took a beating over this. He assured them that if the investigation revealed any wrongdoing on your part that the department would take appropriate action.”

“What? They aren’t caving in before they even get the facts are they?” She paced in a circle around him. This was not good. It was bad enough that she’d shot a kid, but now they were alleging the kid had a toy gun? The kid had shot at her, but without the actual weapon how was she supposed to prove otherwise? Holy shit.

“Listen,” he put a hand on her arm. “Don’t lose faith. This will be fine. After all, in the dark, with poor lighting, the kid pulls out what looks like a real pistol? Don’t forget, Devon, for you this is about perception. You were in that crowd alone, it’s dark, someone yells, ‘gun’, the kid pulls it out and you react. Don’t worry about this lawsuit thing. If you performed according to training and policy—and you did—you’re covered.”

Devon sighed.

They walked to the elevators and the union rep continued to offer encouragement. “Devon, I don’t know how else to tell you not to let this get to you. You’ll be released back to duty within the week, I’m sure of it. The rest is the price of doing business in policing.”

She could only stare at him. The price of doing business? “A kid is dead.” She spoke slowly, working to control her emotion. How could this guy be so damned flippant about that? “I don’t consider a kid’s life ‘the price of doing business,’ as you say. I know he would have shot me if he could. I know I performed according to training, but it’s still not something I’m comfortable with.”

He patted her shoulder. “It will get better.”

The elevator doors opened and the Chief stood looking at them.

“Chief.”

“Corporal.”

They rode down to the ground floor in silence.

THIRTY MINUTES LATER Devon pushed through the door into the locker room at the police academy. The endless hours in Internal Affairs had frayed her nerves and she anticipated a long, physical workout to burn off some stress. Especially after the union rep had implied some members of the police staff questioned her actions that night. Were they actually buying the lies being told by so-called community leaders who wanted the public to believe she had wantonly gunned down a child with a toy gun? How the fuck was she supposed to be able to tell in the dark, in a split second? And, who’s to say the toy gun the attorney was trying to turn into exhibit A was the one the kid had that night? As if dealing with a shooting wasn’t stressful enough, they had to add to the critiques.

“Fucking bureaucrats,” she grumbled.

What the hell did they want from her anyway? She’d done everything she could that night on the street, even giving first aid to the kid until the ambulance arrived. They’d sent her to see the department shrink. What a joke. He asked her a couple of superficial questions about the shooting and whether it was causing her any emotional problems. Truth was, she wasn’t sleeping very well lately, but it had nothing to do with this shooting, exactly. The dream she’d had a couple of days ago was a lot like her nightmares after Beirut. In this new manifestation of her fucked up psyche, everything turned into the scene in Lebanon, right after the terrorist bombing when they’d found Alex’s body.

What exactly did that mean? She wasn’t stupid enough to bring it up with the shrink, especially since he didn’t mention her military service. Besides, what would she say? “Hey, Doc, I’m having this dream that the kid I shot turns into my dead lover and we’re suddenly in the desert, not the projects.” No. That would get her committed, not cleared for duty. Anyway, the dream hadn’t repeated like the old ones used to, so it wasn’t really a big deal. Nothing she hadn’t handled before.

“A few more days and it’ll all be over with,” she told herself, pulling on a pair of shorts and a black t-shirt with a departmental logo on the left breast and TPD SWAT emblazoned in large white letters across the back. After lacing up her sneakers, she stowed her uniform in a locker and crossed the hall into the gym.

Thankful that the room was quiet and empty, Devon tuned the boom box perched on an old metal chair to a classic rock and roll station she loved. The powerful sounds of her favorite Rush song filled the space and simultaneously lifted her spirits. Neil Peart’s hard-driving percussion riffs never failed to amaze her.

Half of the gym sported the newest Nautilus equipment, donated by a wealthy local businessman, and on the other side of the gym were racks of old-school dumbbells she would utilize today. She made her way to the back of the room toward the free weights, lapsing into a decidedly off-key rendition of the chorus while slapping out a corresponding rhythm on her thighs. A woman’s head popped up from one of the weight benches in the corner. Devon jumped slightly and flushed.

“Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here,” she mumbled, taking in the long muscular legs straddling the bench and the equally toned arms resting on the tops of the woman’s thighs. The sight of the woman’s sleek body slick with sweat from her workout, made Devon’s stomach clench in a primal response. The woman raised her head, revealing deep green eyes and a face framed by a mane of shoulder length hair the color of dark chocolate. She smiled and Devon’s heart stopped in her chest. Nonplussed, she stood staring dumbly at the woman. She looked at Devon as if they knew each other, but that was impossible. Devon was certain they had never met, and doubly certain that she would have remembered this woman if they had.

“Excuse me, Corporal. I’ll just get out of your way.” Quickly, the woman stood, gathering her towel and gloves from the bench and shoving them into her bag on the floor. “Have a nice day.”

“No, it’s all right. I—” Devon found her voice, apparently too late. Leaving no room for discussion, the young woman hurried past her, weaving swiftly through the equipment and out of the gym without looking back. Devon stared after her as the door slowly closed, wondering who the beautiful woman was and what she had done to make her run off so fast.

Chapter Two

“UNITS BE ADVISED,” the dispatcher began, “a signal twenty-three hold up just occurred to the Southern Savings and Loan, at Kennedy and MacDill. Three male suspects armed with a shotgun fled in a black Chevy eastbound from the bank.”

“Adam Four en route,” Devon said. She flipped on her overhead emergency lights and stomped on the accelerator. The robbery had occurred in the next sector, and she headed toward the interstate on a hunch. The suspect vehicle matched the description of one used in a similar crime in her area. Word on the street pegged the suspects as a couple of wannabe gang-bangers from the projects. She hoped to intercept them if they came her direction and switched her in-car radio to the frequency of the adjoining sector to monitor the response.

“Air One responding.” The calm voice of Mac McKinley, the police helicopter pilot on duty, came across the radio.

Devon grinned at the sound of her friend’s voice. “Gonna be just like old times, Mac,” she said aloud, feeling even better about the prospect of catching these suspects today. Mac was the most experienced pilot in the department as well as being Devon’s best friend. They’d served together in the army, through a combat tour in Beirut, and there was no one she would rather have as air support on a potentially volatile call like this.

“Air One?” the dispatcher called. “Units on frequency two have a vehicle matching the suspect’s, northbound on Armenia Avenue. Looks like they’re heading for the interstate.”

“Ten-four,” Mac said, “switching to two.”

Devon listened as the units radioed their locations. Sure enough, the suspects appeared to be heading to the projects in her zone. It would only take a couple of minutes for the cars to reach her at the speed of the pursuit. She radioed for additional SWAT officers to respond to the area. It would be helpful to have them standing by, since they already knew that these thugs were armed and dangerous. If they were lucky, the pursuit would end and officers would make the arrest without incident. But, these types of criminals often wanted to go down in a blaze of gunfire, or worse, barricade themselves with hostages. Having the SWAT guys and their extra firepower around would be advantageous.

“Air One here. We’re overhead. Have the ground units back off. We’ll take the lead now.”

Okay fellas, now you’re screwed, you can’t outrun that bird. Devon felt adrenaline pump through her veins at the sounds of the sirens approaching in the distance. These were the calls that cops lived for—the chance to chase down and apprehend real bad guys.

“Adam Four?” the dispatcher called.

“Adam Four.”

“Air One is requesting you on the tactical frequency.”

“Ten-four.” Devon switched over for Mac. “TAC Nine to Air One.” Devon used her SWAT call sign on the tactical channel, in case other SWAT members tuned in.

“Air One," Mac said. "TAC Nine, are you monitoring the pursuit on two, reference the robbery suspects?”

Devon said, “Ten-four, I’m en route to the area now with several other team members. I’ll be Adam Four on freq two. ETA less than five.”

“Ten-four. Looks like they’re heading for the projects. They just got off the interstate at MLK. Kenny’s my flight observer tonight. He’ll keep a close eye on you. We’ll see you there.”

“Perfect. TAC Nine out.”

Switching back to frequency two, Devon accelerated around the corner of Florida Avenue onto Martin L. King, Jr. Boulevard just as the pursuit screamed by. The suspects careened south on Central, into the heart of the public housing area at breakneck speed. Sparks flew when they hit a dip in the road at the next intersection. The vehicle was airborne for a moment, and the driver lost control. The car slid sideways one hundred eighty degrees and struck a cement utility pole at the corner, wrapping around it like a huge metal twist tie. Incredibly, two suspects bolted from the wreckage.

“Suspects fleeing on foot, southbound toward Baker,” Kenny called out to ground units. His job was to operate the on-board camera and keep the suspects in sight long enough to direct officers until the arrest was made. “Black males, one with shoulder length dreds. The other has real short hair. Both are wearing white t-shirts and dark pants.” Kenny calmly recited the suspects' next movements. “They’ve split up. The one with the short hair is now westbound through the alley toward Avon.”

Devon swung her car around the marked units stopped in the street near the wreck, jumping the curb to get by. She gunned the engine, accelerating toward the next corner to intercept the fleeing felons. When she reached the turn, a lone figure ran in the shadow between the buildings. Dead end. Devon slammed the police car to a stop near the end of the street, just behind the suspect, and launched from her vehicle into a full sprint across the crowded parking area. She narrowly avoided a collision with a child on a tricycle as she charged between two parked cars.

People stood on their small porches watching the drama unfold. She couldn’t see if the guy was armed, but because he was moving so freely, she knew that he didn’t have the shotgun used in the robbery. If he were armed, it would be with a handgun of some type.

“Police! Stop!" Devon shouted. "Get on the ground!” She continued her chase between the apartments, ducking and weaving around umbrella clothesline racks, watching for holes or other obstacles as she ran. They were fast approaching an eight-foot fence that surrounded the exterior of the complex. Devon’s brain vaguely registered the reassuring sound of the helicopter’s rotor blades thumping overhead. Her target was running out of steam and Devon knew she would close the distance before he reached the fence. He lunged for the chain link. She grabbed two fistfuls of his t-shirt. Jerking him towards her, she stepped back and to the side, using the momentum and weight of her own body to sling him in an outward arc to the ground.

Devon pinned the suspect to the pavement with her right knee in his back. The helicopter hovered above, Mac and Kenny witnessing the drama below. The chopper steadily circled with the flight observer relaying information regarding Devon and suspect.

The suspect was strong. He kicked and rolled and wouldn't stay still long enough for her to cuff him. She heard Kenny transmit her location and radio for additional backup to assist with the arrest. That was good because she couldn’t get to her shoulder mic to request help for herself. The guy refused to give up without a fight. He struggled, working his legs under him to push off and escape. She dropped her shoulder into his back to regain leverage and tried to ignore the pungent smell of body odor that nearly gagged her when her face ended up inches from his armpit. He was lean and muscular, taller than Devon, and outweighed her by thirty pounds, but he was also winded from the sprint and that evened the odds a bit. With a jerk, he shifted under her, and she realized that her weight alone couldn’t keep him down. Devon drove her left knee into his side and then his outer thigh, where she knew a nerve strike would temporarily disable his leg. She dug beneath him trying to get his hands from under his body, bu

“Get down!” she yelled with each blow she delivered. The third knee strike succeeded, and he fell back onto the pavement. Devon secured a cuff on his right wrist but he struggled against her again. She held him in place with her upper body pressed between his shoulder blades and used the handcuff to push his arm upward unnaturally, a technique that caused a great deal of pain. He screamed a string of expletives and fought harder to escape.

A second officer, Stephanie Ramirez, arrived to assist. The perp continued to fight and Devon again drove her knee into his side. Steph pulled the robber’s left arm free, and they finished cuffing him.

Another group of officers had located the second suspect nearby and arrested him as well. Once they were both secured in police cars, Devon returned to where the getaway vehicle was wrapped around the light pole. The classic, box Chevy four-door was certainly on its way to the scrap heap after this wreck. She looked at the scene in disbelief, still catching her breath from the foot chase and fight with the suspect.

“That crash would have killed one of us, but not these bastards,” she said aloud.

The officer who had assisted Devon with the arrest stepped up beside her to survey the scene. “No doubt,” she said.

Devon smiled sideways at her. “Thanks for the help over there, Steph.”

“No problem.” Stephanie grinned back at her. “See what happens when we ride separately? You get into all kinds of trouble. Welcome back, by the way.”

Devon shoved her playfully in the shoulder. “A week off was more than enough, trust me. One more day of desk duty and I would have gone insane.”

“You’re just an adrenaline junky.”

“Guilty as charged.” She winked at Steph.

“Air One to Adam Four,” Mac called Devon on the radio.

“Adam Four. Go ahead.” Devon automatically looked skyward at the helicopter still hovering above.

“You all set, Corporal? We need to get back to the hanger and refuel.”

“All set, thanks for the help, Air One.” She gave thumbs up and a wave in the air. The chopper banked to the west and was gone.

FROM THE ENTRANCE Devon scanned the dining area of a small Cuban restaurant and soon spotted the unmistakable muscular form she searched for. Tonight the place was crowded. Faithful immigrant regulars mingled with the newer converts to the cuisine and packed the restaurant.

In the early 1900s, Tampa had mostly been built on the labor of immigrants from Cuba and other Latin American countries. Ybor City, the central city’s Latin district, was founded by hardworking people who came to their new country to work in the cigar factories and brought with them their vibrant history and culture. The smells of café con leche, a strong Cuban coffee, and of freshly baked bread and rich, roasted pork floated in the air.

Devon’s stomach rumbled in response. A tiny woman with jet-black hair and twinkling eyes smiled up at Devon. She motioned in the direction of the booth across the room.

“He’s at your table, la miel. I bring coffee right now.”

“Gracias, Señora Gutierrez.” Devon smiled at the owner’s term of endearment. They'd met during Devon’s rookie year when she investigated a burglary of the Gutierrez’s home a few miles away. Recently widowed, the poor woman had been terrified that whoever broke in would come back again. Devon made a point to patrol her neighborhood more frequently after that. Over the years they had become close and Devon often visited her at home and the restaurant just to see how she was doing. Tonight she craved the recipes passed down through generations of Señora Gutierrez’s family. Her mouth watered in anticipation, savoring the aromas wafting from the kitchen.

Devon dropped into the chair across from the muscle-bound guy studying the menu as if he didn’t eat here at least once a week. She playfully slapped the laminated page into his face eliciting a startled glare before he recognized who had done it. She grinned at him and balled up a fist to ward off his imaginary attack.

“They haven’t changed the menu in thirty years, Nate.”

Nathaniel Spencer visibly relaxed and returned her grin with a wide smile of his own. His deep dimples creased his cheeks just below the corners of his dark moustache. “You never know…”

He had obviously gotten a haircut in the last couple of days because his nearly black spikes were only a quarter-inch high and the skin along the new hairline was pale compared to the rest of his tanned neck.

“Not to mention,” Devon continued teasingly, “that you order the chicken with black beans and yellow rice every time.” The waiter appeared at the table with two heaping plates of the Spanish dish in question. Señora Gutierrez placed a glass of water and a Cuban coffee in front of her. Devon laughed when Nate looked at his plate like a kid on Christmas morning. She loved the familiarity of their routine. “See what I mean? They didn’t even wait for you to order. They know.”

“Cops hate change. I stick with a good thing.”

Devon and Nate met when she tried out for the SWAT team after completing her first two years at the department. No female candidate had ever tried out before, and when she showed up, there was no mistaking the animosity that hung in the air thicker than the humidity that sweltering summer day.

Devon insisted on competing with the same standards as the male applicants and outperformed most of the group. By the end of that day, she’d secured a spot on the team, but it had still taken a while to win over the most staunchly resistant members. Nate was the exception right from the start, offering encouragement and sound advice. She and Nate hit it off immediately and became fast friends. Since then, they'd become partners on the team, trusting each other with their lives in the most harrowing situations.

“Good to see you back on the street,” Nate said. “It’s been a couple of weeks. Everything turned out okay, then?”

“The state attorney’s office and IA have ruled the shooting justified, but now there’s the lawsuit going on. I don’t know.” She sighed and sipped her café con leche.

“Listen, don’t let the political bullshit get to you. The department has to deal with the rest of it now. They’ve cleared you, which means the lawsuits or anything else is their problem, not yours personally. You’re covered.”

“It’s hard to ignore, though.”

“Anytime you need an ear—you know that.”

“Thanks, bud.”

The waiter placed a third dish on the table at the open place next to Nate. Devon raised a questioning eyebrow.

“For my rookie,” he said in answer to her unspoken inquiry, already shoveling a forkful of yellow rice into his mouth. “Bathroom.” He indicated the rear of the restaurant with a tilt of his head. “And, stop that.”

“What?”

“You’re doing that thing with your jaw. I see it bunching up there in the back. Don’t worry, she’s good. You’ll like her, I think.”

Devon shook her head in dismay. She had hoped to have dinner alone with Nate, to relax and catch up on news and share a few laughs. The prospect of enduring endless rookie questions throughout their meal was something she definitely did not want to contemplate.

She forced a smile and met Nate’s reassuring eyes. Resigning herself to the inescapable, she picked up her fork, deciding instead to concentrate on the delicious food. Out of the corner of her eye she saw their dinner companion quietly return.

Devon shifted her gaze to watch long graceful fingers extracting the knife and fork, then unfold the napkin and place it on her lap. Next, Devon’s eyes traveled up her torso to the silver nameplate. J. Kilbride was etched into the surface. The bronzed skin of the woman's long, slender neck was exposed between the open top buttons of the uniform shirt. Devon's eyes finally came to rest on her face. The deep green eyes that had penetrated her consciousness at the academy gym stared back at her across the table.

Just like that day at the gym, Devon felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach. Only tonight it was obvious why she hadn’t recognized the woman at that first meeting. Her uniform gave away her trainee status. Brand new shiny brass, her shirt yet to fade, and her leather gear was smooth and unmarred. Tonight her hair was pulled neatly back and secured in a tight bun.

The rookie’s face colored, and she looked away in obvious discomfort. Devon immediately chided herself, realizing her irritation over sharing her dinner break with Nate must have shown on her face. Inexplicably, it mattered that the young woman appeared to be uncomfortable. Devon didn't want her to think she was an asshole. She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. What the hell did she care what some rookie thought, anyway? She reached for her glass of ice water and took a long drink because the restaurant had suddenly become unbearably warm.

Nate, oblivious to the nonverbal exchange between the two women, said between large bites of food, “Jessie, this is Devon James, my SWAT partner. Devon, this is Jessica Kilbride. She’s in phase four of training.” He returned his attention to his plate, leaving the two women to complete the introductory conversation on their own.

Devon extended her hand across the table and smiled, hoping to erase any negative first impressions. “Hi, how are ya?”

“Hello, Corporal,” Jessie replied quietly. “I’m very glad to meet you.” Her handshake was firm but her skin felt warm and soft.

When Jessie looked down at their hands, then back to her face, Devon realized she had drifted momentarily and not let go at the socially acceptable time. Embarrassed, she said, "Sorry." Devon felt strangely off balance. Like wading in the ocean, enjoying the peaceful relaxation, but at the same time feeling the sand shifting beneath her feet.

Jessie smiled shyly and to busy herself, Devon refilled their water glasses from the pitcher. Needing a return to the comfort of normal interaction, she decided that police work was a safe topic.

“So, have you guys been busy tonight?” she asked Nate.

“Not too bad. The usual stuff. Jessie had her first foot chase, though.” Nate poked the woman next to him with his elbow. “Tell her.”

“Nate…I don’t want to.” The color rose in her face again and Devon found her embarrassment engaging.

“No, I’d like to hear about it. Go ahead,” Devon encouraged, feeling more relaxed when she talked about work. She remembered her first sighting of Jessie at the gym and thought she was physically capable. Regardless of how progressive law enforcement agencies claimed to be, women still had to prove themselves worthy of the profession. Her first impression of Jessie had been positive. Devon couldn’t forget the sight of her on the weight bench, but she resolutely pushed those thoughts away in light of this more professional interaction. She definitely wanted to hear Jessie’s story.

“It was nothing really,” Jessie said. “We stopped this car and the passenger bailed out and ran. I caught up to him a couple of blocks later.” She shrugged, dropping her eyes again.

“She’s leaving out the part where she tackled him and gave him a few shots when he wouldn’t give up his hands,” Nate added enthusiastically. “And when she searched him after cuffing him, she found an automatic pistol in his waistband and a baggie of cocaine in his pocket.” He smiled proudly at his student.

“That’s great!” Devon grinned at Jessie’s blush and thought the way she fiddled with her napkin to hide her discomfort was cute as hell.

Nate excused himself, leaving Devon and Jessie alone.

“Did you always want to be a cop?” Devon asked.

“Ever since I can remember. What about you, Corporal?”

“I used to be in the military, and when that didn’t work out, law enforcement was the logical alternative. I’m enjoying myself.” Jessie's smile made Devon warm inside.

“The SWAT stuff must be really exciting, but I’m not sure I could do all that.”

“It’s demanding sometimes, but we love it.” Devon flipped the focus back to Jessie. “Nate doesn’t impress easily, and I can tell he thinks very highly of you. I hope you know how rare that is for him.”

“Thanks.” Jessie gave a nervous laugh and Devon found herself staring when Jessie bit her lower lip. They lapsed into silence and Devon wished she were better at conversation. Mac would be smoothly moving to the next topic, but Devon struggled to find the right words at times like these. Thankfully Nate returned to the table.

“Ready?” he asked Jessie.

They paid the tab, and Devon gave Señora Gutierrez a tight squeeze before following Nate and Jessie to the parking lot. Nate climbed behind the wheel of his car. She was glad her patrol car was parked to the right of theirs. That meant Jessie would walk that way with her. Devon was surprised to find that she’d enjoyed dinner more than she would have admitted to herself, much less out loud. She said goodbye, still feeling Jessie’s emerald eyes on her, and recalling how she was drawn into their depths when she dared to return her gaze.

Chapter Three

HE SAT ON the tattered, threadbare couch that doubled as a bed in his efficiency apartment, eating a greasy burger from a paper sack and swallowing it down with a swig from his forty-ounce bottle of beer. A rusted oscillating fan squeaked as it turned back and forth, trying to push around what passed for cool air coming out of the worn-out window air conditioner. He picked up the remote to silence the TV when the teaser for the upcoming six o’clock news came on.

“Coming up, we have new, recently released dramatic footage from the police pursuit following Tuesday’s bank robbery at the Southern Savings and Loan.”

On the screen, a blonde officer escorted a handcuffed man to a patrol car and placed him inside. When the officer pushed the car door closed she turned directly toward the camera. He stared.

His face twisted in disgust. He downed the rest of his beer as the reporter narrated the videotaped pursuit. “Corporal James declined to be interviewed on camera, however she did confirm that both robbery suspects have been arrested and the money bag from the bank was recovered.”

“Well, hello, Lieutenant James.”

“I’M HERE, SO let’s eat!” Nate entered Devon’s house like he owned the place, meeting Mac at the kitchen doorway with a bear hug. Devon smiled watching her closest friends through the open patio doors while she spread out the coals on the grill. The weather was perfect for an outdoor dinner, a warm seventy-five degrees without the Florida humidity that would take over as summer crept nearer. It had been a while since she and her friends had a day off in common, and Devon scheduled the dinner to take advantage of the occasion.

Satisfied with the grill temperature, she moved to the patio door and called into the house, “Mac, bring me the plate of steaks, would ya?”

“Sure,” Mac said. “Do you want a beer too?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Moments later her friends joined her on the deck.

“How are ya Mac?” Nate asked. “I haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”

“Great. Your area’s been quiet, so we’ve been spending more time in the other sectors. They’ve had a few good pursuits, and that’s been fun.”

“I’ve heard. Dev said they caught an armed robbery suspect last week. That’s awesome.”

“Oh, yeah. You should have seen Dev chase down the asshole. You would have been proud.”

Devon waved her spatula in the air. “Hey, you two, c’mon, bring those steaks over here, the fire isn’t gonna stay hot all day.”

“Well, if you had a decent grill you wouldn’t have to worry,” Nate teased. “You’re the only person I know who still fools with charcoal.”

“Yeah and you’ve never had a better steak than here,” Devon countered. “You’ve said so many times.”

“Probably has more to do with it the meal being free,” Mac chimed in.

Nate walked around the oval in-ground pool to the far side of the patio, where Devon slid the cooking grates back into place over the fire. He passed her a fresh beer and gave her a tight squeeze.

Mac handed Devon the steaks, which she promptly placed over the open fire. The flames leapt around the thick t-bones, and the steaks hissed and popped, filling the air with mouth-watering aroma.

They moved to the patio table beneath the covered area of the porch and sat to enjoy their beer.

Nate shot Mac a look before asking, “Dev, you ready for SWAT school? It’s next week, right?”

“Yep. Thanks for getting the captain to put me in for it.”

“No problem. It will make you a better SWAT officer and you’re going to love it. Of course, some of the drills will be similar to the ones we do. You know the shooting drills.”

“Two to the body, one to the head,” they chanted simultaneously, then laughed and tapped their bottles together in a salute.

“What’s that about?” Mac asked.

“Just a shooting drill that always ends our training day,” Devon explained. “It’s a body armor drill. You stop the threat. Two shots to the body, and one head shot in case the bad guy’s wearing a bullet-proof vest.”

“The repetition is to make the response automatic under stress,” Nate added. “But, just like anything, after hundreds of repetitions, it gets monotonous. We hear the line so much in training that it’s become a SWAT joke.”

“What other kinds of training will they have?” Devon asked him.

“This course is full of hand-to-hand combat stuff, ground fighting, and even some rappelling. I think you’re gonna have a great time.”

“Don’t you guys normally do that stuff on your SWAT training days?” Mac asked.

“Some,” he said, “but this will be more intense. They’ll be going over the newest techniques and innovations in tactical responses.” He looked back to Devon. "The best part will be the building extractions, Dev. I know you get off on all that rappelling. Oh, and I hear the lead instructor is one of the best in the state. She even trains and issues certifications for rappel masters. Maybe you can get some information about that.” He pumped his eyebrows. “And, they say she’s easy on the eyes.”

Mac sat up, suddenly looking more interested. “A woman?”

“Yeah." Nate said. "I hear she’s top notch.”

“Dev, maybe I can drop by, ya know, just to see how things are going. I mean, you never know when you might need a hand.”

Devon rolled her eyes. “Is it even possible there’s one woman left in Florida that you haven’t gotten to know intimately?” She ducked when Mac tossed a bottle cap in her direction.

“No shit,” Nate complained. “You get more action than any dude I know.”

“Jealous?” Mac raised an eyebrow at him.

Thirty minutes later, their plates empty except for the spotless bones, the three friends sat back in their chairs, supremely satisfied. Darkness settled around them, a full moon rising in a clear sky. Crickets droned lazily in the distance, and Devon got up to light the tiki torches at the corners of the lanai.

“So, Nate, you still have that hot rookie?” Mac asked.

“Only for another couple of days. She finishes up this week.”

“I’ll bet you’re looking forward to being free.”

“Actually, no. She's really been great to ride with. She’s so enthusiastic. I don’t know how to explain it, but she makes me excited to come to work again.” Mac said, “Wow. You’re sure it has nothing to do with her looks?” “Her looks?” He put on an exaggerated frown. “How shallow do you think I am?” “So her appearance has absolutely no affect on how you relate to her, huh?”

Devon finished lighting the torches, and her return to the table interrupted his answer. She had absently been following the conversation, but thought she must have lost a thread. “Who are we talking about again?”

“Nate’s rookie,” Mac told her. “He was just getting ready to try to deny any sexual fantasies about her. I saw her the other day. She’s the brunette, right? Legs for days. Have you seen her, Dev? Damn, I’d—”

Devon stood abruptly, not wanting to hear the rest of the lewd comment about Jessie. This was the kind of banter the three of them engaged in regularly, but for some reason this time she didn’t find it amusing. She resisted the urge to cuff Mac on the side of the head, deciding to play host instead. “Who needs a refill?” She retreated to the kitchen before waiting for a response.

Nate appeared at her side in the kitchen a moment later. “Not for me. I hate to eat and run, Dev, but I’ve got court in the morning and didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“I understand, bud.” She gave him a firm hug.

He leaned back to study her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Did talking about Jessie bother you or something?”

For a big jock, Nate was pretty astute and Devon knew he had a big heart underneath it all. Why had the conversation irritated her?

“I don’t know, Nate. You know I’m not very good at this stuff.”

“Come on, it’s me, remember? You looked like you were getting along with her pretty well at dinner. Nothing wrong with that, bud. Jessie’s good people and so are you.” He gave her a nudge.

She nodded, knowing he was right, and she realized she wanted to get to know Jessie better. She pulled in a deep breath. “Is she single?”

“Yes,” he said. “But she’s had a difficult time of it with her ex. I haven’t asked her a lot, because I didn’t want to pry. I saw her ex giving her a hard time in the parking lot at the station one day. That woman’s got issues. I’m not sure exactly what their status is, though.” He checked his watch. “Sorry, Dev, I gotta run.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for coming by, and for the info about Jessie. Be careful going home.”

“See ya, Dev.”

They embraced and Devon waved before closing the door. She returned to the kitchen to find Mac pulling two more beers from the refrigerator.

“Oops, these are your last two,” she said apologetically.

“No problem, I have to go to the store tomorrow anyway.”

Mac leaned a hip against the counter and sipped her beer while Devon restored a bit of order to the kitchen. She had replaced the outdated olive green appliances when she moved in, but still planned to update the rest of the kitchen as soon as possible. Devon opened the cabinet above the sink, pulling down a bottle of their favorite whiskey and two shot glasses. She grinned at Mac as she held up the offering.

“Absolutely.” Glancing around, Mac said, “By the way, the place is coming along nicely.” Devon followed Mac’s gaze with a sense of pride. She had purchased the house the year before and had been painstakingly remodeling the interior ever since. The bungalow was built in the Forties with a wide front porch, high ceilings and the original hardwood flooring throughout. The rooms were bright and airy thanks to large windows and custom beveled glass transom windows above the doors. One of Devon’s favorite sights was the way the late afternoon sunlight, filtering through the matching panes on the west wall, cast multicolored mosaics on the oak floor of the entryway. The thick plaster walls provided great insulation from the Florida heat. She dreamed of restoring the old place to its original classic charm. That would take a few years, but she was in no hurry.

Mac admired the woodwork along the ceiling. “The crown molding looks great.”

“Thanks. The extra time I spent in Mr. Hanssen’s wood shop back in high school must have taught me something. The master bathroom is my next project. It’s good therapy and it keeps me out of trouble.”

“Looks like a lot of work. Ya know, when you first bought this old place, I thought you’d gotten hit in the head one too many times. But I gotta hand it to ya, buddy, it’s really coming together. If you ever need any help, I’d be happy to lend a hand.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when I start tearing out walls.”

“I can swing a sledgehammer,” Mac assured her.

“Oh, I almost forgot. How was the party the other night?”

“Amazing. I know women’s basketball doesn’t rival the NBA, but let me tell ya, there were some money people there. Conner’s got the world by the tail.”

“It must be exciting for her, and you. Hell, I don’t know anyone else whose cousin is a professional athlete. That’s cool. What about the clientele at that shindig? Any new conquests?”

Mac smiled widely.

“Wow. That good, huh?”

Mac bit her lip but remained silent.

“As in you might see her again?”

“C’mon, you know me better than that,” Mac said. Devon watched the grin slide off her friend’s face and a wistful expression replaced it. “She was definitely gorgeous.”

“So?”

“Repeats are rare ever since Megan,” Mac said seriously.

“Well, there was Ann.”

“Yeah, but I think that worked because we both knew there was a time limit. Kept us both from getting antsy.”

“What happened with Megan sucked. You really loved her.” The fact that Mac mentioned Megan surprised her. Devon knew that Mac’s ex-lover cheated on her with a higher-ranking male officer when she was in the army, but not much more. They were under investigation for being lesbians, and Megan betrayed Mac to save herself. Devon watched painful memories float in her friend’s eyes.

“Yes,” Mac said. “I did love her. But it’s not just that. It’s more like I’ve never learned to trust my own judgment again when it comes to women.”

Devon nodded. “I know what you mean. After Jillian left, I didn’t understand how I could have missed all the signs. Turns out there were no signs,” she scoffed. “I wasn’t wrong—exactly. Sometimes I wonder what’s worse, thinking a woman screwed you over or knowing that they loved you, but left anyway. I mean, knowing that Jill did love me made me feel better on one hand, but then I’ll always wonder how she could have left. And then, of course, what if?”

“That’s a tough one.” Mac said. “Now you’re totally different people. You were really just kids then. Who’s to say? You two were living in a pressure cooker. Military regulations, security clearances, and the raging hormones of youth.” She whistled softly. “Combustible combination.”

“Very true. But she should have tried to fight for us. The fact that she didn’t says it all.”

They downed their shots.

Mac smacked her glass on the table. “You don’t think that leaving someone you love in order to protect them is commendable? The way I remember it, she denied having a relationship with you to keep you out of the investigation. Maybe you should give her a break.”

“Maybe. Doesn’t really matter now, right? She made her choice and like you said, I’m a different person today.” Devon poured them each another round. “Anyway, back to you and the mystery woman. Something’s different. Tell.”

Mac looked away and blushed uncharacteristically, taking Devon off guard. She narrowed her eyes and studied her friend. “What? You’re really interested?” Mac’s cheeks were nearly crimson now. “Oh, now I’ve gotta hear this,” Devon said.

“No. Well, yeah. Maybe.”

Devon raised an eyebrow and waited. Her hesitant reaction was something that Devon had never seen from Mac. She was comfortable and confident in her own skin, and single by choice. She wasn’t the type to brag about her conquests, but Mac made no secret of the fact that she stayed away from commitment. Devon knew Mac enjoyed strong, sometimes enigmatic women, and if they were redheads, even better.

Finally Mac spoke. “This woman was different.”

“Spill it,” Devon instructed. Mac chewed her lip, and fidgeted. She picked at the label on her beer bottle, stalling. Devon was fascinated watching this side of Mac. Hell, she was almost vulnerable.

“There’s not really much to tell. She was invited because she does security for the Orlando team during the season. I was fortunate she wasn’t on duty that night.”

Devon watched Mac’s thoughts drift in her eyes, like a movie was playing inside her head. She asked, “Does she have a name?”

“T.J.”

“That’s it? That’s all you know?”

Devon swore she saw horns sprout on Mac’s head to go with the devilish glint in her eyes. “Oh, I know a lot more than that. But there wasn’t time to get much more than her name.” Mac glanced away. “We didn’t exactly do much talking.”

“Do you ever?” Devon laughed. She cocked her head toward the patio and they walked out to settle again at the table. “So, you know me, I always ask, even though I get the same response every time. You gonna see her again?”

Mac grew serious. “I’d like to.”

“Holy shit. You would?” She had Devon’s complete attention. This was big. “Now, you have to tell me more about her.”

“One word. Gorgeous. She’s about five eleven, auburn hair just past her shoulders, big brown eyes, and a killer body. That makes sense because she’s a tactical ops instructor for the Orange County Sheriff. She has this smooth voice like melted caramel.” Mac stared over the water, absorbed in the memory.

“Sounds exactly like your type.”

“Oh, you know what my type is?” Mac’s gaze shifted back to Devon.

“Yeah, I’ve kinda picked up on it over the years. She’s a cop? Huh. Imagine that,” Devon teased. “You did have a conversation with the woman.” She shook her head in wonder. “After all the mindless encounters, a woman with handcuffs is what gets your attention.”

Mac chuckled.

“Did you get this T.J.’s number?” Devon wasn’t about to let this go.

“Uh, no.”

“What? Are you kidding me? The first woman in years who gets to you and you didn’t get her number? Jesus, she really turned your brain to mush.”

Mac shook her head helplessly. “I wanted to. It’s just that she made it plain that she didn’t do repeats.” She sighed heavily. “I guess I’ve finally gotten a taste of what that’s like.” She pulled at a string on her shorts, avoiding Devon’s eyes.

Devon said after a few minutes, “I’ll be in Orlando all week for that SWAT school. Who knows? I might run into this T.J. and then I could call you.”

The corner of Mac’s mouth twisted with the hint of a smile.

No doubt that whoever this woman was, Mac was hooked. Hopefully, the woman would be at the SWAT training, and if so, Devon would have the opportunity to size her up. “I’ll find her and get the number.”

“She probably won’t even remember me.” Mac was trying to sound cavalier, but Devon saw below the thank you in her friend’s eyes.

Mac fell silent and Devon’s thoughts drifted to the earlier conversation about Jessie—more specifically her own reaction. She puzzled over that. Jessie was attractive, so why should she be surprised that Mac would notice? And Jessie’s ex? Devon wondered how anyone could let Jessie go, let alone hurt her. Nate said he saw the two of them in the parking lot of the station, meaning Jessie’s ex was also a cop. Idiot cop. Then she smiled remembering the sparkle in Jessie’s eyes when she laughed and the tender look when they said goodbye after dinner, making Devon long to stay with her.

“So are you off next Saturday after the school?” Mac’s question brought Devon back from her musing.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.”

“You’ve been kinda distracted all night. You all right?”

“Yeah, I guess something in the air’s got me thinking about women.”

“Are we talking past or present now?”

“A little of both, I guess,” Devon said idly. Another dream about Alex had kept her up half the night. Why was she suddenly thinking about her past? She felt as though the shooting had tapped into her most painful memories and now her mind wouldn’t stop. And then Jessie popped up in the middle of all this turmoil. That’s probably all it was, residual angst working on her nerves at the same time she met someone new. Besides, it wasn’t as though Jessie was anything like Alex or Jillian—not that she knew her really—but it seemed obvious they couldn’t have been more different. Alex was dark and sultry, serious and intellectual. Jillian was the lady-killer with her fiery hair and salacious eyes who used her looks to conquer hearts, regardless of the consequences. Her first impressions of Jessie were warm and breezy, someone who didn’t take herself too seriously. That was something Devon needed to learn.

“What’s going on with you and Nate’s rookie?” Devon’s head snapped around and Mac said, “I figured I’d hit a nerve earlier. Sorry.”

Devon raked a hand through her hair. “You didn’t do anything. I have no reason to be sensitive about it. I ran into her in the gym a couple weeks ago. Then she was there when Nate and I had dinner last Thursday. I’ve seen her a couple of times around the station and we’ve chatted a little more—the weather and work stuff mostly. She’s very nice. That’s it. Besides, as you said, she’s a rookie and I’m a training corporal. Probably not a good idea.”

“Hell, I remember a young lieutenant who skirted the rules to be with a beautiful CIA agent. She’ll only be a trainee for a few more days, and she’s definitely an adult from what I’ve seen.”

“Stop,” Devon said. “I hardly know the woman.”

Mac sipped her beer. “Then get to know her. The fact that you’ve stopped to talk with her on more than one occasion speaks volumes. You are interested, right?” She held Devon’s gaze with an expression of steadfast support that reminded her of the way Mac looked at her the first night she’d admitted her relationship with Alex. Before terrorist attacks effortlessly exploded a marine barracks and then blasted through Devon’s soul.

Thankfully, the pain had become a manageable part of her, like the occasional flare-ups in her knee, and mostly Devon could think about Alexandra fondly now. Mostly. In the beginning she saw Alex lying dead in the sand of the Middle East every time she closed her eyes. Worse, she lived with the knowledge that she’d pushed Alex into an interagency contest to see who could neutralize the terrorist group responsible for an attack on Americans in Lebanon. That foolish race between them may very likely have contributed to Alex’s death. Devon sighed and stared up at the stars for a few moments, hoping wherever Alex was that she was happy.

She turned to look directly at her friend. “Do you think we only get one shot at finding love in this life?”

Mac blinked, obviously taken off guard by the question. “Umm…I don’t know. How do you mean?”

“I mean the real thing. Is that just some silly dream or is it possible?” For someone like me? At first it appeared as though Mac was going to make a joke, but she must have realized that Devon was completely serious. She frowned and examined her beer bottle rather than answering.

Devon continued talking, working out her puzzling thoughts aloud. “Both of us—we thought we had it once, right? Jillian and Megan?” Mac remained silent watching her friend. “And Alex…thought…I…” Devon couldn’t finish the damning truth around the sudden lump in her throat.

“Are you having the nightmares again?” Mac asked cautiously.

“Not too many.” Devon watched the amber reflections of the torches dance on the surface of the pool. It was the truth. The nightmares were less frequent. Although Mac was with her when they found Alex’s body, she couldn’t bring herself to talk about it, even now. She figured it was the price to pay for her shortcomings. No reason to burden anyone else with her guilt. “I admit the shooting kind of stirred up a lot of old shit for me, but I’ll be fine.”

Mac nodded. After a few minutes she broke the silence. “Don’t let the past keep you from finding happiness.” She offered a small smile. “You like her. And she’s cute. Just see what happens.”

Devon couldn’t deny her attraction. There was something about her. Cute? Yeah. With a something that gave Devon a nice little buzz. “I think I’d like that,” she said.

“To possibility.” Mac raised her bottle and Devon followed.

“To possibility,” Devon echoed. They tapped their bottles together and she added, “For both of us.”

Chapter Four

“WHY IS IT that I can’t get you to come and see me unless I entice you with an interesting case?” Kelsey Sinclair greeted Devon with a look somewhere between seductive and accusatory, her voice laced with innuendo as always. She didn’t mean anything by it. Kelsey was a natural flirt. Her playful nature endeared her to everyone, men and women alike. She pushed back her thick chestnut hair that was always in an appealing state of disarray, and her deep dimples winked at Devon when she smiled.

“Who are you kidding? There’s normally a line out the door to get in here to see you,” Devon teased back. “Where’s the ticket thing? Don’t I need to take a number?” She stepped further into the small office, little more than a formal cubicle. The detective was seated behind a banged up gray metal desk that had no doubt seen years of action. Piles of paperwork and assorted folders covered nearly every inch of the work surface and overflowed onto the floor around Kelsey’s chair. A print reproduction of Norman Rockwell’s Saturday Evening Post cover, “The Runaway,” hung behind her desk. Its innocent depiction of a beat cop seated next to a youngster at a Fifties soda shop counter was paired in direct contrast to the other bit of art on the wall, a gritty poster image of Serpico, the maligned NYPD narcotics officer nearly murdered by fellow cops when he refused to take bribes. Devon was certain there was a message in there somewhere.

“Funny.” Kelsey made a show of pouting and batted her caramel colored eyes. “I’d never make you wait, but you never notice me.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Yeah, yeah. Not the marrying kind.” Kelsey grabbed the stack of files from the chair next to the desk and then waved her arm in that direction. “Have a seat, Dev.”

Devon sat on the edge of a straight-backed wooden chair, careful not to catch her holster or other utility belt items on the arms. “So, my friend, what’s up with the car from the robbery?”

The detective flipped the open file on her desk and pushed it in front of Devon. “I think the vehicle used in that robbery was from a chop shop operation that I’ve been working on. We’ve had five vehicles stolen this month that aren’t the usual kids joy-riding stuff. The cars are turning up in various crimes like the robbery the other day. Same M.O. mostly, Eighties and Nineties model Chevys and Fords, every once in a while an RX7 or something like that. We’re not sure about the sports cars, but I’ve got a hunch they do those for special orders. They remove the vehicle identification numbers, put a bogus tag on them and sell them to whoever.”

Devon lifted the folder from the desk and thumbed through the pages. All of the vehicles were taken from downtown lots in the middle of the day. “The crowded lots make it easy for them to operate. By the time the owners get out of work and notice their cars missing, hours have passed.” Devon spoke absently, continuing to scan the documents.

“Exactly.” Kelsey sank back into her chair and tapped her lip with a pen. “So far, I haven’t got much, except a theft pattern downtown. No witnesses. I have a couple of leads on auto repair shops over off of Broadway, though. My snitch says that’s where I should be looking. He says the word on the street is that Roy Beckman can get you a car. He owns Roy’s Auto Repair at Broadway and Sixty-fifth.”

“And Roy just happens to have auto theft priors,” Devon observed. She pulled the rap sheet on Beckman out of the folder, studying the photo to commit his face to memory. His criminal history started in his teens. Mostly small-time stuff. According to the file, he graduated to grand theft auto at seventeen and did time for dealing in stolen property at twenty-two. “What about prints?”

“So far, the robbery vehicle is the only one we’ve recovered that we can process. Two others were torched. I’ll let you know if forensics gets something. They should be done processing it in the next day or so.”

Devon glanced up from the paperwork. “What about the guys we arrested from the robbery? Do they know anything about whoever they got the car from?”

“No. Or if they do they’re not saying right now. I’m heading over to county jail this afternoon to interview them again. I think I might be able to get the passenger to give up something. He’s facing fifteen years minimum mandatory if he’s convicted, so he’ll be looking for something to help his case.”

“Anything else?” Devon set the file back in front of the detective.

“I don’t know if this is going to be anything, but my snitch also said Roy’s new mechanic recently got out of prison. I’m still working on a name. All I’ve got is a white male, six feet, brown hair and eyes. So, I hoped you might do some snooping around over on the east end of your area.”

Devon stood. “I’ll keep an eye out, Kelsey. My zone officer will patrol the downtown lots more aggressively, calls permitting. I’ll take a ride over on Broadway today, see if I notice anything that you can use.”

“Thanks, Dev.” Kelsey’s phone rang and she answered it, waving to Devon as she left.

DEVON PULLED UP at the rear of the station just after one a.m., thankful that her shift was nearly over. She’d caught up with almost everything except the last-minute paperwork, and it looked as though she was actually going to get out on time tonight. Amazing. She grabbed the stack of reports from her passenger seat and rechecked the interior to ensure that she hadn’t forgotten anything. Satisfied, she climbed out of her vehicle and kicked the door shut behind her.

“Excuse me?” A man’s voice startled her. The fact that she hadn’t heard him approach was a little unnerving. Automatically on alert, her eyes darted over his body, making a quick assessment of his appearance. He stood at least six inches taller than her, with a cut, muscular build. The blue mechanic’s-type work shirt had the name Vinny stitched above the left pocket. His shirt and pants were smeared with dirt and grease. A scruffy three-or four-day growth of beard covered his face, and his disheveled hair stuck out in various places. He was alone and appeared harmless, but something about him made Devon’s skin crawl. His odd demeanor brought to mind images of some unassuming guy who lives out in the open for years before anyone finds out he’s got ten bodies buried in his backyard.

His expression had a hint of darkness and the smile that twisted his features before he spoke gave her a chill. “I apologize, ma’am. I thought you were a different officer. My mistake.”

She watched him walk back across the lot and dissolve into the night. Odd.

“Who was that?” Nate crossed the parking lot toward her, staring after the stranger.

“I don’t know. Some mechanic.” She couldn’t see him anymore, so she turned to walk with Nate. “He started to ask a question, then he just stopped. Said he thought I was someone else.”

“Huh, well, maybe that’s all it is then. You know how it is. People only really see the uniform, not us.” Nate pulled open the back door and held it for Devon to enter.

“Yeah, maybe,” she said, but something about the guy’s eyes unsettled her.

“Let’s get this shift in the books. I’ll buy the first round at the lodge tonight.”

“Big spender.” Devon laughed. “The beer’s free. What’s going on tonight?”

“The rookie class finished the training program. You have to come. Everyone’s gonna be there, even Mac.” He slugged Devon in the arm playfully.

“Oh, all right. I’ll be there. Just give me a few to finish up. Then I’ve got to go home and get the Jeep.”

“All right, bud. I’ll see you up there.” Nate headed down the hallway in the direction of the men’s locker room and Devon took the first left, entering the District One office. The midnight receptionist sat at the front counter doing her best to calm an agitated person on the other end of the telephone line. Devon could hear the ranting caller from where she stood. The receptionist rolled her eyes and mouthed, “Crazy.”

Devon laughed. “Hang in there, Amy.”

“James!” A voice bellowed from the shift commander’s office around the corner.

She dropped the night’s paperwork into the large accordion records file next to a gray metal file cabinet and went to see him. “Yes, Sarge?”

He held up two yellow message slips. “Detective Sinclair wants you to call her about that car from the chase the other night, and some guy was in here a couple of hours ago. Left you a message.”

“Thanks.” Devon took the slips, reading as she walked through the rows of cubicles in the supervisor’s area. Her desk was in the back of the room that was organized according to squad numbers and cycles. The first message was from Kelsey, but she’d have to call in the morning. She turned her attention to the second note. Her name was in the ‘to’ line and the ‘from’ line was blank. The message read, “Sorry I missed you. My father sends his regards.” She turned the paper over. Nothing else. Puzzled, she re-read the note, but it still made no sense. She dialed the sergeant’s number from her desk phone. “Sarge, the second note you gave me doesn’t have any name on it. Did you take the message?”

“No name? Huh. Well, when he came in, the phone was ringing off the hook and I had three walk-ups waiting. He asked for you—no he asked if you worked here. I told him you did but you were out on the street, then he requested a piece of paper to leave you a message. To be honest I didn’t even read it. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Sarge. Do you remember what he looked like?”

“Let me think. It was busy, like I said. White guy, nothing special, except he was big and cut—ya know, all muscle—brown hair and brown eyes, kind of dirty looking.”

“There was a guy in the parking lot just now that fit that description. Maybe he left the note and realized he’d made a mistake once he saw me.”

“Maybe. Look, the other line is ringing, I’ve got to go.”

“No problem. Have a good night, Sarge.” Devon balled up the slip of paper and tossed it into the trashcan next to her desk, satisfied to have solved the mystery. She checked to make sure her in-basket was empty and switched off the reading light. On the way to the women’s locker room the strange encounter with the guy in the parking lot crept into her thoughts. It wasn’t even a full moon until tomorrow. She shook her head wondering why the nuts always found her.

Pushing through the door, she nearly collided head on with someone coming out. The woman pitched backward, flailing her arms trying to regain her balance. Devon just caught her wrist, pulling her up before she tumbled to the floor.

“Sorry, Corporal,” Jessie stammered.

Devon held Jessie’s body away from hers, but they stood close enough that she felt the heat of her skin. “No, excuse me,” she mumbled.

Color climbed from Jessie’s neck into her cheeks. A little flip in her own stomach made Devon step back and look away to conceal her own blush. After the conversation she’d had with Mac, it was getting harder to dismiss her growing interest. Her professional side warned her to stay detached, but personally she couldn’t deny the pleasure she felt at the unexpected encounter. She tried to think of a conversation starter, just to extend the moment, but stood there awkwardly. Finally, her brain engaged. “Last day of training, right? Congratulations.”

Jessie beamed. “Yes! Thank you.”

“I had a feeling you’d do well. The first time I saw you…umm…” Devon felt herself color even more remembering Jessie’s workout attire and cleared her throat. “Guess I better let you go.”

Jessie looked as though she might say something and then stood aside for Devon to pass.

“Have a nice night, Corporal.” Jessie pulled open the door.

“You, too.” Devon stepped past her and then stopped. She turned back with a question that suddenly mattered very much. Quietly she asked, “Jessica or Jessie?” When the young officer looked at her with a question in her eyes, she clarified. “Your name. I’ve been meaning to ask. Do you prefer Jessica or Jessie?”

A pleased smile lit up her face. “Either. My friends call me Jessie.” She shyly dropped her eyes to her boots. Devon stood there wishing she could think of something more to say. Pretty women tended to leave her tongue-tied, and Jessie tended to make Devon forget how to do much of anything.

“Was there something else, Corporal?”

Recovering, Devon shook her head. “Sorry, I guess it’s been a long night. Take care.”

“Will you be at the lodge?”

Devon hesitated and glanced back over her shoulder. Jessie’s face was openly hopeful and that suddenly made her a little skittish. But then again, all of her friends would be there, so it was no big deal. “Yeah, guess I’ll see you there.”

A bright smile broke across Jessie’s face. She pushed purposefully through the door, and Devon tried to ignore the rise in her pulse rate watching Jessie walk away. Her inner pessimist taunted her about getting stupid over a pretty girl. She grabbed her gear bag and slammed the locker door to silence the voice. Nate’s right, I need to get out and have a beer with the gang. That settled, Devon headed back to the lot, jumped into her police cruiser and drove home for a quick change of clothes. A cold beer and a game of pool with her friends sounded like a damn fine way to end the week.

THE POLICE LODGE was packed and Devon circled, surprised by the number of cars filling the lot and spilling over into the property next door. “It’s not like today’s the first day they started pouring free beer,” she groused, eventually finding a spot in the rear. She took a look in the outside mirror of her Jeep, finger combing her windblown curls before striding confidently to the rear door of the hall and letting herself in with her key.

More than fifty people jammed the place, spread out amongst the two adjoining main rooms. Devon worked her way through to the bar at the back of the first room to get a beer. She smiled at Joe the bartender and held up her index finger, indicating an order for a draft. Four big-screen TVs were spaced around the room, each one showing a different game. The Yankees game played on the one closest to her. She leaned against the lacquered surface of the bar waiting for her order. Joe slid the frosty mug across the bar before leaning in for a tight hug. “Good to see you honey,” he said into her ear. “You need to come and visit more often.”

“I know Joe, I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

“Listen,” he said in a hushed tone, “don’t you worry about the IA thing. That was a clean shoot. You did what you had to do.”

“Wow,” she marveled, “you sure have your finger on the pulse.”

“Johnson from IAB was one of my first rookies.” He winked. “You’re gonna be just fine. If you need an ear, my bar’s always open.”

She met him at the end of the bar for another hug, and he patted her cheek affectionately before moving away to fill the next order. Devon carried her beer through the doorway to the poolroom. Three tables lined the left side of the room, and all were in use with additional players waiting in the wings, quarters stacked on the rails ready to go. Four small tables crammed the center of the space, filled with new officers Devon guessed. A couple of pinball machines pinged and rang, lights flashing as the players flipped levers and racked up bonus scores. To her right, two electronic dartboards were in use by a group that included several members of Devon’s squad, including Stephanie. She nodded hello in her direction.

“Over here, Dev.” She turned in the direction of the familiar voice and saw Nate waving at her from the pool table in the corner. Devon watched the game as she made her way across the room. As usual, Mac was soundly whipping him, systematically clearing the solid balls off the table.

“Why’s the place so crowded?” Devon continued to scan the faces, waving to colleagues she recognized.

“This was a big class that graduated, remember?” Nate said, still watching Mac shoot. “Aw, c’mon,” he moaned when she called the eight ball in the side pocket and then slammed it home with authority.

Devon climbed onto a stool along the wall, just behind the pool tables, content to observe the activities around her. The side door swung open and a young officer held it for the person entering behind him. Devon watched Jessie enter, her eyes taking in the soft curves of a figure normally obscured by the confines of the body armor and gun belt. Nice. A little tingle buzzed through her in response to the visual stimulation.

Jessie joined the other rookies across the room, and they all raised their mugs saluting their accomplishments. The entire place bustled with promise and youthful exuberance. Their enthusiasm was contagious and Devon smiled, watching the group interact. When a muscular brunette in uniform and wearing knee-high motorcycle boots approached the table, Jessie’s smile immediately faded. Devon recognized her as the sergeant of the motorcycle squad. Angela something. It didn’t really matter. The woman placed her palms on the table and leaned over Jessie, saying something directly into her ear. Jessie responded without looking up, a negative shake of her head accompanying whatever she had said. She stood and pushed past the other woman toward the restroom. Devon knew instinctively the dark-haired woman was the ex that Nate had talked about. She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you, asshole.

“Devon, c’mon, let’s play doubles,” Mac called to her from the pool table.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” Devon gratefully said, needing a distraction from whatever was going on with Jessie. The ex met her outside the restroom, and the two of them were now standing in the corner having a serious conversation. Jessie seemed to be fine with it, so Devon stepped up to the table with her friends, but a moment later she clenched her jaw when she saw the sergeant attempt to drape an arm possessively over Jessie’s shoulders. Jessie shifted away from the contact, but they continued talking. When Jessie didn’t walk away, Devon shook her head at her own hasty assumptions. Maybe the two of them were still working things out. No reason they shouldn’t.

Normally she and Mac paired up for games of pool, but Nate protested. “Oh, no way. You two are not going to gang up on me. I’m taking Mac.” Before Devon realized what he was doing she heard him calling across the room, “Jessie, come over here, we need a fourth player.”

Jessie worked her way across the crowded room to Devon’s side with her ex staring after her. When Angela’s eyes found Devon’s, there was a hint of challenge, but Devon wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of taking the bait. She simply raised her mug and smiled. Angela turned away.

Nate racked the balls while Mac launched a new series of jabs about the last time he attempted the break and managed to miss them all. “Aww,” he complained, “we’re on the same team now, remember?”

Mac relented. “You’re right, partner. I’ll get you another beer as a peace offering. Does anybody else need one?”

Nate nodded, passing his empty mug to her. Devon downed the remainder of her mug and wordlessly handed the empty to Mac. Every nerve ending registered high alert. Jessie standing next to her was electrifying, sending charges that pulsed through her body, making her hyper-aware of every nuanced gesture.

Mac tilted her chin in Jessie’s direction. “How about you? Jessie, is it?” She let the question dangle in the air, obviously waiting for confirmation.

In the silence Devon and Jessie shared a look that shortcircuited Devon’s verbal skills.

Mac stopped next to her. “Hello?” She elbowed Devon. “Does your friend want a beer?”

Devon kept her eyes on Jessie’s and said, “Why don’t you just bring us all one, Mac?”

Mac put her hand out to Jessie. “Hello. My friend here is very rude, but I’m Mac.” Devon closed her eyes and shook her head.

“I’m Jessie, and yes, I’d like a beer. Thank you, Sergeant.”

“Ah, my reputation precedes me again. Don’t believe anything you hear. Unless it’s good, right, Dev?” Mac grinned mischievously.

“Oh, no,” Jessie said, “it’s nothing like that. I mean, everyone knows you’re the chief pilot, that’s all.”

“I’ll give you that. Air service is a small group, but I’d prefer Mac, rather than the whole sergeant thing.”

Jessie looked uncertain but said, “Mac.”

“Good. That’s settled,” Mac said happily. “So, beers all around, including one for my suddenly mute buddy, here.” She swung her thumb in Devon’s direction.

“Just get the beer, Sergeant.” Devon gave Mac a light shove to underscore her sarcastic tone.

“Coming right up!” Mac laughed, already threading her way toward the bar.

Soon, the group fell into the rhythm of the game, easily conversing and sharing a few jokes. While Jessie lined up a shot and talked to Nate, Mac poked Devon lightly in the ribs.

“Jessie is very nice.” Mac nodded her head in the direction of the woman in question.

Devon grinned. “Yeah.” She looked briefly at Mac before turning her attention back to Jessie.

Never the one to let Devon off the hook, Mac prodded, “They graduated. You can stop keeping your secret.”

“It’s no secret. I told you I don’t know her well yet so don’t read into anything.”

“If you say so,” Mac teased.

Devon didn’t elaborate to satisfy Mac’s curiosity. Meanwhile, at the pool table, Jessie proved her mettle by sinking tough shots amid Nate’s futile attempts at distraction. Mac started telling Nate some story about flying in a combat zone. It was interesting and Devon tried to follow, but instead found herself stealing glances at Jessie. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of her. When Jessie made her next shot and smiled up at her, Devon felt herself melting into a puddle.

She cleared her throat, grasping for coherent thought. “I...uh, excuse me.” Her powerful reactions had her feeling so undone that Devon hustled toward the restroom. She lingered in the hallway, attempting to locate her misplaced sanity. Unable to find an off switch for her out-of-control libido, Devon decided to call it a night before she did something to really embarrass herself, like drool on the woman. Jesus.

When she returned to the pool table Jessie was gone. “Anybody see where Jessie went?” She looked at her friends.

“She said she had to get going,” Nate said.

Disappointment squeezed Devon’s chest that Jessie hadn’t even said goodbye. She figured it must have something to do with the woman she saw Jessie with earlier, who Devon noticed was gone now as well. Or you might have scared her off looking at her like she was lunch. She decided that maybe it was a good thing that she didn’t have the chance to spend more time with Jessie. Devon didn’t want to find out just how foolish her behavior could get.

“I’m outta here.”

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Mac asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Devon assured her. “See you guys later.” She called out a goodbye to Steph, who was deeply involved in a dart game, and made her way to the exit, relieved to escape the intensity of the evening.

“JESUS,” DEVON MUTTERED, “what the hell is wrong with me?” She walked quickly across the parking lot, deeply inhaling the warm night air to resettle her emotions. She told herself she just needed to get a good night’s sleep. She dug in her pocket for her keys, whistling a Melissa Etheridge tune as she walked, and mulling over the evening’s developments. Seeing Jessie with her ex certainly put a different spin on things. Devon always made it a point to steer clear of involving herself in others’ relationship dramas. Cute or not, a woman with a not-so-ex girlfriend hanging around wasn’t worth the aggravation.

A figure leaning against the side of the green car next to her Jeep stopped Devon in her tracks. It took only a second to recognize Jessie and another millisecond for Devon’s heart to kick wildly in her chest. Jessie’s arms were wrapped around her middle. She stared in the direction of the street, her profile illuminated in the moonlight, looking deep in thought. For a moment Devon considered going back inside, but her legs had different ideas, carrying her over closer to where Jessie stood.

“Are you okay?” She bent slightly to catch Jessie’s eye, hating the mixture of confusion and sadness she saw. She felt the urge to punch whoever was responsible for putting it there.

Jessie straightened and forced a tremulous smile. “Yes, Corporal. Thank you, I was just—”

Devon closed the distance between them and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “It’s Devon. Please, call me Devon, okay?” Jessie trembled beneath her touch. The sadness in her eyes hurt somewhere deep inside of Devon in a way that she couldn’t quite figure out. At that moment she would have given anything to fix whatever was upsetting Jessie.

Jessie let out a shaky breath. “All right, Devon.” She gripped herself more tightly around the middle before pushing off the car to move out of touching distance.

Her sudden withdrawal was puzzling, and Devon glanced around the parking lot wondering if her ex was still around bothering her. The image of that woman with Jessie was irrationally disturbing. She reminded herself it was none of her business and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans to keep from touching Jessie again.

“You sure you’re okay?” she finally asked, unable to walk away.

“Yeah, thanks.” Jessie risked meeting her eyes. “I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.”

“Okay.” Devon suddenly had to ask, to be sure. “Was that your, ahh, girlfriend?” She watched a frown knit Jessie’s eyebrows together.

Jessie shook her head in obvious bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”

Devon felt the heat of the blood crawling up her neck and into her face, wanting nothing more than a hole to open up in the ground beneath her feet and swallow her up. She stared at her boots, searching for something intelligent to say. “The woman I saw you with earlier.” She sighed, wondering how much more lame she could sound. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. If you’re okay, then I’ll leave you alone.” Her voice trailed off as she backed away toward the safety of her own vehicle.

“She’s nobody,” Jessie blurted out. “Not anymore—for quite a while.”

Devon stopped as a crazy sense of relief flooded through her. She felt a stupid grin break across her face. She had an urge to sweep Jessie up in a tight hug, but thought better of it when she saw the look of distress on her face. Tears gathered in Jessie’s eyes and she slumped against the car. Obviously Angela still had the power to upset her. Devon waited, watching Jessie gather herself again.

“I’m sorry. Can I do anything?”

Jessie shook her head. “No. Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t know she would be here. She can say the most hateful things. I don’t know why I let her get to me.” She heaved out an emotion-filled breath and swiped angrily at the wetness on her cheeks.

Devon’s heart ached for her. She shifted from foot to foot, wanting to help but uncertain of what to do or say—or more to the point, what Jessie would be comfortable with. “Not that I am in any position to give an opinion, but from what you’ve told me just now, I think you did the right thing.”

Jessie looked up at her and Devon offered a smile.

“Angela is an idiot if she couldn’t see how good she had it. Her loss.”

Jessie smiled gratefully and tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear. Such a simple move that was somehow incredibly sexy when she did it. Devon wanted to be that lock of hair Jessie touched, and her hand twitched with the effort not to reach out for her.

Jessie straightened and sighed. “Sorry. All of this is probably more than you wanted to know. I didn’t mean to keep you away from your friends.”

“It’s not a problem. I was leaving anyway. I’m glad I saw you before you left.”

“Tonight was nice. The pool game was fun.” She leaned back against the car’s front quarter panel, and Devon turned and did the same, nodding and enjoying the closeness of being shoulder to shoulder. The contact felt good. She wanted to put her arm around Jessie and pull her close, and in another setting she would have.

The quiet of the moment was interrupted by loud voices approaching from behind them. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, irritated by the intrusion. A group of guys were carrying on across the lot, arguing about who was the best shot among them. Jessie stepped away from the car and said it was getting late.

Devon worked to hide her disappointment. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Do you need a ride?”

Jessie tapped the roof of the green Toyota. “It’s not much, but it’s all mine.”

Devon made a mental note of Jessie’s car. “Guess I better get going, then. Thanks for the game of pool. You sure you’re okay?”

Jessie smiled and her eyes pulled Devon in helplessly. They stood in silence again as the heat of the night enveloped them until Jessie finally spoke. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Devon said quietly. She waited while Jessie got into her car and backed out, raising her hand in response to Jessie’s wave goodbye. When she climbed into the Jeep to head home, Devon was so wrapped up in the high of Jessie that she didn’t recognize the figure slouched against a tree in the shadows across the street.

Chapter Five

A COUPLE OF hours into her next shift, Devon was finally finished with the daily training reports and was stoked to be heading out on patrol. She had returned Kelsey’s call earlier and learned about some interesting developments in the auto theft cases. One of the Vice detectives working a wiretap had inadvertently stumbled onto a link to the group jacking cars. Devon had told Kelsey she’d get out to Roy’s place on Broadway to confirm a few facts for her. If the chatter on the wire was correct, this was a bigger operation than they had realized, an organized crime operation with narcotics connections as well. Right now, the cases would be handled separately. Roy and his crew might only be supplying the vehicles, not knowing or caring what his customers did with them.

As she walked toward her assigned vehicle, movement across the station parking lot caught her eye. She squinted into the brilliance of the setting sun, pleasantly surprised to see Jessie making her way through the rows of marked police units. Her long legs and trim body moved gracefully against the orange glow of the late afternoon sky. A gentle breeze caught her hair, sweeping it away from her neck. Devon smiled absently watching Jessie bend to retrieve a notepad that fell from her hand. The auto theft problem was going to have to wait a few more minutes. Devon changed course to intercept Jessie.

“Hi.”

Jessie acted surprised. “Hi,” she said around the thin elastic hair tie she held in her teeth. In another couple of seconds she had efficiently pulled her hair back and wrapped it into a neat bun. She looked around and then chuckled.

“Did I do something funny?” Devon couldn’t help grinning with her.

“No. I was just wondering if you always hang out in parking lots or is it me?” Her eyes shone playfully, and the hint of a smile creased her cheek at the corner of her mouth. Thoughts of Jessie had kept Devon up most of the night and seeing her now made all of those inappropriate images come flooding back. When their eyes met, a new smile lit up Jessie’s face and Devon felt her pulse quicken as its effects radiated through her.

“It’s definitely you.” Devon held her eyes until Jessie blushed and turned to open the trunk of her Toyota. After repeating the action with the patrol car, she loaded her gear inside. Jessie’s trunk could have been a model of organization for Police Magazine. She arranged everything precisely, no doubt for maximum efficiency that Devon had rarely seen in such a new officer. Devon moved to help her and they both reached for the handles on the large canvas duty bag simultaneously.

Jessie’s touch was like an electric jolt and Devon jerked her hand back quickly. “Sorry.” She glanced sideways at Jessie but couldn’t gauge her reaction, if any. Jessie continued to load her equipment while Devon leaned on the bumper of her car and watched. She wondered what Jessie liked to do in her spare time. Maybe she’d ask her to have coffee later. No. Not coffee at work. She wanted to do this right. Dinner. They could have dinner next week. No. She had training next week. Shit. When she got back into town, she would ask Jessie out.

Jessie slammed the trunk and turned to face her. “Listen, I hope I’m not being too forward, but my squad and family are having a surprise party for my birthday on Saturday, and I was wondering if you’re free—I mean, you could bring a date…or your partner?”

Devon mentally scrambled to catch up with the conversation. Jessie just invited her to a party, but thought she had a girlfriend? She held up both hands. “No rings. I don’t have that kind of partner.”

“But people say that you had a live-in girlfriend.”

“Jess the first thing you have to understand about this place is that cops love to gossip. They feed on it. They all think they know everything about everyone and they don’t.” Devon couldn’t hide her irritation at the thought of people telling Jessie things like this about her. She’d been involved a short time with the coach of the women’s university fast-pitch softball team the previous year. Devon had allowed Nicki to stay longer than she’d known was advisable. It was amazing how the rumor mill had picked up the story and it spread like wildfire. She clenched her jaw. Didn’t people have anything better to do than to speculate on her love life? She knew it wasn’t Jessie’s fault so she pushed the anger away.

Wanting to see the light back in Jessie’s eyes, she smiled and returned to the original topic. “So, if this party is a surprise, how come you know about it?”

Jessie sighed. “My family isn’t very good at keeping secrets.”

Devon watched in fascination as Jessie’s thoughts played in the landscape of her eyes, and it occurred to her that Jessie had no idea that she was beautiful. Blood rushed in Devon’s veins. She took a deep breath and stepped back, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. “Wow,” she breathed. Pheromones were surely undermining her brain function.

“Beg pardon?” Jessie leaned closer.

“Sure,” Devon said quickly before she thought about it too much and changed her mind. “A party would be fun. But you haven’t told me how old you’re gonna be.”

“Adam Four.” The dispatcher’s voice interrupted.

“That’s me.” Devon keyed her shoulder mic. “Adam Four, go ahead.” Copying the details of the next call, she frowned. “Sorry.”

“Duty calls.” Jessie climbed into her vehicle and started it.

“By the way,” Devon said. “You still didn’t say how old you’re gonna be.”

“I’ll be thirty.” The smile Jessie flashed before she turned the corner made Devon’s heart skip a beat.

DEVON KILLED HER headlights and pulled up behind Nate’s patrol car two doors down from a domestic disturbance call. She hopped from her vehicle and jogged to catch up with him as he approached the front porch of the raggedy duplex. Jessie’s cruiser drifted to a stop from the opposite direction. All was quiet. They made their way across the tiny patch of dirt that at one time might have been a lawn. The battered screen door yawned open, its spring mechanism long since broken, leaving it to hang askew by one rusted hinge.

Dispatch background information regarding the address indicated that officers had responded out here for numerous calls ranging from disturbances to assaults. In this neighborhood she wasn’t really surprised. These apartments turned over quickly, so the history could have pertained to previous occupants, but it was best to be cautious just the same. Nate went around to the rear while Devon scanned the front of the house. She and Jessie stepped onto the porch, looking for signs of movement. She peered through a small tear in the pull-down shade at the corner of the front window, hoping for a hint of where the couple might be in the house, but she saw nothing. She and Jessie stopped on either side of the doorway listening for sounds of a struggle inside. Silence.

A look of acknowledgement passed between them. Jessie reached out with her large metal flashlight to hammer on the front door with authority.

Devon yelled, “Police, open up!”

Rustling and what sounded like a faint whimper came from somewhere inside. Jessie banged harder this time. More shuffling and movement from the interior, followed by the sound of a male voice saying something they couldn’t make out.

“Police!” Devon repeated.

“What do you want?” The male voice shouted now.

“We need to talk to you,” Jessie said. “Come to the door.”

“We’re fine. Go away!”

“Can’t do that,” Jessie told him. “You need to talk to us. We’re not leaving until you do.”

Devon tried to see through the small grimy window just to the left of the door. Now the unmistakable sounds of a woman crying were audible and they heard footsteps coming toward the front of the apartment. Devon could see him now.

“Jessie,” she whispered, “he’s got something in his hand…kitchen knife…right hand. He just put it behind his leg. He’s almost to the door.” She keyed her radio. “Nate, the male half is armed with a knife. Standby.” Devon made a quick visual assessment of the suspect, shocked when she recognized him. The questions in her mind would have to wait until they disarmed him and resolved tonight’s issue. He turned the knob, and Devon slammed her shoulder into the door with all of the force she could muster.

The suspect yelped in surprise, sprawling backwards onto the floor. Devon and Jessie charged through the opening and immediately dove toward him. He was a huge man, well over six and a half feet tall, with a thick, muscular body. Prison thick. With surprising agility, he scrambled to regain his feet as they landed on him. All three pitched onto a wooden coffee table. A sickening crunch, and the table collapsed beneath them, splintering into a pile of sticks.

With the swing of a meaty fist, a garish nugget ring connected with Jessie’s temple. The blow sent her rolling away. Her flashlight bounced off the wall beside them and landed on the floor. In a flash, Devon was on her feet, but the man wasn’t far behind. She delivered a right hook to the point of his jaw that dazed him. A follow up knee to the solar plexus drove him to the floor gasping for air.

Nate appeared and jumped into the fray as the suspect continued to fight. He had to be amped up on drugs because he showed no signs of feeling the pain of any blows. His next punch grazed the side of her head. Nate ducked, narrowly escaping a roundhouse swing. He immediately drove his elbow into the guy’s jaw. Blood flew from his lip, but the man was oblivious and continued to fight, his eyes wild like a rabid animal. Devon vaguely heard Jessie radio for additional help.

He head-butted Devon. Pain and shards of white light momentarily immobilized her. The suspect broke free and lunged for the butcher’s knife that he’d dropped when the door struck him.

Through hazy vision, Devon saw Jessie draw her collapsible baton from its scabbard. She heard the metal slide as Jessie swung it in an arc to fully extend the weapon. Holding the handle double fisted, like a baseball player swinging for the fence, Jessie drove the silver ball at the tip into her target. She connected with the suspect’s elbow with a loud thwak. He screamed as the bones in his forearm splintered and his useless hand hung at an unnatural angle.

“You broke my arm, you bitch!’ he shrieked, underscoring his disbelief and pain.

Nate and Devon again jumped on the man, taking him to the floor. Although his right arm was obviously broken, they couldn’t let up until he was secured. Injured suspects who continued to fight hurt too many officers, and Devon didn’t intend to be one of them.

The man howled in pain when they cuffed him and searched for additional weapons. He begged them to stop and just take him to jail.

“Nate, you got him?” Devon asked.

“Yeah.”

Devon breathed hard, trying to get some air into her lungs in the stale, smoky apartment. She brushed her sleeve to remove the remnants of soot from an ashtray that had toppled off the coffee table during the fight. She tasted blood and realized her tongue was bleeding a little. Her vision was clearing, but a monster headache was building behind her eyes.

“I’ll go check on the woman.” Jessie headed toward the back rooms and Devon followed.

Chaotic noises erupted from the front of the house. Additional officers responding as backup descended upon the residence, radios squawking, and voices shouting. Devon and Jessie located the female half of the couple huddled in the corner of the tiny bedroom. She was bleeding from a deep laceration above her left eye and an inch-and-a-half split in her lower lip. Devon called for the paramedics to check the woman’s injuries. Meanwhile, the suspect was cuffed to a gurney for transport to the hospital and treatment for his broken arm.

Devon met Jessie as she retrieved her clipboard and paperwork from her trunk. She grimaced at the large contusion on the side of Jessie’s face. The lump on her temple had grown and her left cheekbone and eye were already beginning to bruise. Devon reached for the clipboard. “Jessie, you need to go with the medics and get yourself checked out. I’ll take care of the paperwork. This guy and I need to have a chat anyway.” She tried to remember if she’d ever arrested him prior to this, but didn’t think she’d ever seen him before the night in the police lot.

“I’m all right,” Jessie protested. “No way am I going to leave you with all of this work by yourself. At least let me fill out the arrest affidavit for you.” She held the clipboard tightly with her jaw set, letting Devon know she wasn’t about to give in.

“Suit yourself, but as soon as we’re done you’re getting checked out.” Her tone left no room for argument.

“Yes, Corporal.” Devon could have sworn she heard a subtle teasing in Jessie’s tone. She held onto the other end of the clipboard and narrowed her eyes, but Jessie’s expression betrayed nothing. “I’ll get going on the paperwork since you want to talk to the suspect.”

They walked to the back of the ambulance where the suspect was strapped down. Devon positioned herself closest to him in case he started anything again. Cuffed to the gurney, he shouldn’t be a problem, but sometimes these guys were like Houdini and she wasn’t taking any chances where Jessie was concerned. “Guys, can you give me a minute?” she asked the paramedics. They nodded and climbed into the rig to prepare for the transport.

“Okay, buddy, what gives? What were you doing in the police lot the other day?”

He stared straight ahead. “I already told you. I made a mistake.”

“Bullshit. You asked for me at the desk by name. Why?”

He blinked and said nothing.

Devon chewed the inside of her lip, scrutinizing him, searching for any clue as to what was going on.

Jessie stepped closer. “I’ll get his information and then we can go from there, okay?” After reading him his rights she asked, “Sir, do you want to give me a statement?”

“Fuck you bitch, you broke my goddamned arm!”

“Suit yourself. Refused statement.” She wrote the same on the form. “Do you have any weapons or drugs on you?” Jessie searched his pockets for an ID. The man continued to curse at her. She located his wallet and removed his driver’s license. “All right, Mr.…Honeycutt. I’ll take that as a no.”

Devon’s head snapped up. She snatched the ID from Jessie. What the hell?

“Devon?” Jessie looked curiously at her.

Devon pushed past Jessie with anger and confusion building inside her. The guy was too young to be the Honeycutt she remembered, but he was sure as hell the guy from the parking lot. What kind of twisted game was he playing? She gripped the suspect’s injured arm, eliciting a new round of expletives. “Who the hell are you?” she demanded. When he didn’t respond she squeezed the arm tighter.

He glared at her. “I have the right to remain silent. But, you want a statement? Fuck you.” Devon wanted to drive her fist into his face and might have if Nate hadn’t stepped in.

“Dev, let the paramedics transport him.” He pulled her toward their patrol cars. Once they were out of earshot he asked, “What’s up?”

“That’s the guy who was in the station parking lot a while back, remember?”

Nate glanced over his shoulder as the doors of the ambulance slammed shut. He turned back to Devon. “You know him?”

“No.”

“Then what’s going on?”

Devon stared after the ambulance. Could the name be a coincidence? She doubted it. Something was definitely not right, but without any answers she didn’t want to jump to conclusions. She’d have Kelsey run a criminal history on the guy and see what that turned up in case it was just her imagination running wild. “I have no idea. Maybe nothing. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

“I’m trusting you.” Nate looked over to where Jessie was filling out forms in her car. “Jessie did good, huh?”

“She’s definitely tough,” Devon said. She was beyond impressed at the way Jessie had handled herself in the fight, taking that punch and still overcoming it to subdue the suspect and help finish the arrest. She frowned at the sight of Jessie holding her head in her hands, obviously in pain. “Can you take her to the ER to be checked out, Nate? She took a nasty knock on the head.”

He looked from Jessie to Devon. “Sure. Dev, what about you? That head butt had to hurt.”

“I’ve got some aspirin in my trunk. My head is much too hard for him to have done any real damage.”

“Very true. I’ll take care of her.”

“Thanks. I’ll wrap up this scene and check in with you later to make sure she’s okay.”

Devon was on the way back inside when a smirking Nate caught her arm. “Why don’t you ask her out?”

“Who?”

“Oh, please.” He rolled his eyes. “Jessie, of course.”

Devon didn’t respond. She still couldn’t quite believe that Jessie had beaten her to the punch with the invitation earlier in the day. But it really didn’t matter who asked first, as long as she was able to spend more time with her. She had a crush on Jessie. The realization made her pause. There was no denying it to herself any longer, and knowing she’d get to see Jessie off-duty gave her a jolt of pleasure that she didn’t want to ignore. Of course, it was a birthday party, not a date. Still. It was a start.

Chapter Six

“THIS MUST BE the place.” Jessie’s sister was hosting the evening’s celebration and Devon didn’t need to check the house numbers to know that the brightly lit house in the middle of the block was where she needed to go. She maneuvered her Jeep down the narrow street made nearly impassible by the number of cars parked along the entire length of either side of the street. Devon thought Jessie must be a popular lady with this many well-wishers. Devon scanned ahead looking for an open spot, feeling a little guilty for showing up so late. Nothing seemed to go right while she was getting ready, and she’d been so damned nervous she nearly changed her mind and stayed home. The thought of spending some time with Jessie overrode her trepidation and now here she was.

In her rearview mirror she spied someone pulling out of a space and swung back around at the cul-de-sac to snag the opening. She climbed out of the Jeep and examined herself in the exterior mirror. Jessie had said the party would be casual and Devon hoped that her well-worn favorite jeans paired with a black polo shirt fit the bill. She glanced down at the scuffed black boots on her feet and decided they were a little dusty from her last ride. Quickly, she rubbed the toe of each boot on the back of her opposite pant leg to clean them up a bit. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. Quit stalling.

Devon rang the bell and waited, listening to the sounds of music, voices, and laughter from inside. Nervously tapping the envelope in her hand against her thigh, she shifted her weight from foot to foot until she heard the sound of someone at the door. It swung open and Devon couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t move. The sight of Jessie made her feel unsteady, like she’d already had a few drinks.

Rich dark hair, which Jessie normally kept pulled up at work, cascaded around her face and flowed down her neck to her shoulders. She wore a white button-down shirt tucked into a pair of snug fitting, olive-colored jeans and black, round-toed motorcycle boots. The belt cinched around her narrow waist accentuated the curve of her hips. Devon’s eyes fell to the open collar of her shirt, moving down the V to the point where the top button allowed just a tantalizing hint of the valley between her breasts.

Devon forced her eyes back to Jessie’s face. Jessie’s smile nearly undid her. “Happy Birthday.” She held out the envelope.

“Thanks.” They stood there for a few moments at the threshold, neither one speaking. Eventually, Jessie stepped back, motioning inside. “Sorry, I’ve forgotten my manners. Please, come in.”

She lightly grasped Devon’s upper arm, drawing her through the crowded room. Devon tensed slightly beneath Jessie’s hand and then relaxed as they wove their way between groups of people laughing and talking. She automatically scanned the faces around her, recognizing some from work, but mostly feeling lost in a sea of strangers. Jessie’s touch anchored her while they made their way through the house. Devon smiled inwardly when Jessie pulled her closer. Across the room a card table was in use by three couples that laughed heartily after an older woman declared, “Gin.” The woman was an older version of Jessie, with the same merry eyes and welcoming smile, quite obviously Jessie’s mom.

A younger woman, who favored Jessie with the exception of a lighter shade of curly hair, approached wearing a smug expression. “Hiya, sis, who’s your friend?”

Jessie smiled up at Devon and then replied, “Jen, this is Devon. Devon, this is my little sister, Jen.”

Jen stuck her tongue out at Jessie and rolled her eyes. “Why must you always introduce me that way? I’m her younger sister,” she corrected.

Devon smiled, remembering the same argument with her older sister. She extended her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Jen. Thank you for having me.”

Jen had a nice firm handshake. “Glad to meet you, Devon.” She and Jessie then shared a conspiratorial look, the way Devon and her own sister, Leigh, often did when they were young. A brief pang of guilt stabbed Devon’s gut when she realized she couldn’t remember the last time she’d talked to Leigh.

Jen nodded and winked at Jessie. “Enjoy yourselves.”

They made their way to the game room at the rear of the house. Jessie lifted the lid on a cooler and extracted two beers, handing one to Devon. They climbed onto stools at a small bar that divided the room. “Did you have trouble finding the place?”

“No.” Devon examined the bottle in her hands. “Actually, I was so nervous that I changed clothes five times trying to decide what would make the best impression.” She fidgeted and dropped her eyes nervously to the floor, stunned at her admission. Jessie touched her right knee and Devon’s leg twitched.

“You didn’t have to worry about that.” Jessie offered a reassuring smile to calm Devon’s nerves.

“You look beautif—”

“Jessica.” Her mother stood in the doorway. “It’s time to cut the cake and open your presents.” She raised an eyebrow expectantly, and Jessie looked apologetically at Devon.

Devon grinned at her. “You go ahead. Don’t keep your family waiting. I’ll finish my thought later.”

After cutting the cake and distributing pieces all around, Jessie sat in the middle of the living room surrounded by a pile of gifts. She carefully opened each card and present, thanking the giver with sincerity. Devon leaned against the doorframe across the room, watching her every move. Now and then Jessie glanced up as though checking to see if Devon was still there. They’d exchange a private look, and then Jessie returned to opening her gifts. When the last package was opened, Jessie motioned her over.

Devon squatted and Jessie spoke into her ear. “I hope that you can stay a while. I know I’ve been preoccupied, but I’d like it if we could have some time later.”

That thought warmed Devon inside. “Tonight is your night. I’ve got nothing but time for you.”

“Good. Give me a few more minutes.” Jessie held out her hand and Devon pulled her to her feet, admiring the gentle sway of Jessie’s hips as she walked away.

She returned to the game room for a second beer and soon struck up a conversation with another officer on Jessie’s squad about her kids and life in general. Devon knew Lu from work, but they didn’t usually see each other beyond parties like this.

“I’m surprised Nate’s not here,” Lu observed.

“He couldn’t get out of the job he had tonight. You know how that is sometimes.”

She nodded. “So, what’s with you and Jessie?”

“What do you mean?” Devon felt her defenses rising. Why did everyone care so much about her personal life when it was nobody’s business? This is exactly why she didn’t socialize much within the department.

“Just wondered,” Lu said. “It’s just that Jessie made a point to invite you. And then you showed up the other day at our call. Coincidence?”

Devon looked past her to where Jessie walked a friend out the front door to say goodbye. No it wasn’t a coincidence. She’d seen Jessie and Lu on the call bordering her sector and stopped by as an excuse to say hello. If Devon were honest with herself, she’d have to admit to keeping tabs on Jessie at work. Just out of curiosity. The in-car computer made it a little too easy to pull up the status of any officer and Devon couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want to answer, but she also knew that avoiding the question would only fuel Lu’s curiosity and she’d fill in the blanks on her own. She sighed.

Lu patted her arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve always liked you, Devon.” She tipped her chin in the direction of the front door. “Jessie’s a good person.”

She followed Lu’s gaze to the entryway. “Yeah. I think I’ll get some fresh air.”

Devon heard voices when she stepped onto the porch. Two figures stood in the shadows near the street next to a Harley Davidson roadster parked at the curb.

“You’re drunk,” Jessie said.

“Jessie, I’m here to give you one more chance to come home with me.” The other woman grabbed Jessie by the elbow.

“Take your damn hands off of me.” Jessie struggled to pull her arm free from the larger woman.

It took a second for what was happening to register in Devon’s brain. In the next she was moving forward, down the sidewalk, into the street, and forcefully grabbing a fistful of Angela’s shirt at her left shoulder. Angela gripped Devon’s right arm with her free hand. Wide-eyed, Angela stared at Devon, but did not let go of Jessie’s arm. The three of them stood connected in silence for a long moment. Devon and Angela glared at each other.

Finally, a smirk twisted Angela’s mouth. “Sport, I don’t know what your deal is, but this is a private conversation.” Her hot, rum-soaked breath permeated the air. She growled at Jessie, “We’re not done.”

Devon shifted closer and glared down at the hand gripping Jessie’s arm too tightly. Flipping her eyes back up, drilling her stare into Angela’s eyes, she said in a dangerous, low tone, “I believe the lady told you to let go. I’m going to suggest that you take your hand off of her.” She twisted her fist more tightly in the woman’s shirt. “But really, I gotta tell ya, there’s a part of me kinda hoping you don’t take the suggestion.”

Something in Devon’s eyes finally must have registered with Angela. She released Jessie’s arm, but stuck out her chin in challenge. “You SWAT assholes think you’re special.” She spat next to the cycle. “We’ll see.”

Devon tightened both hands in the front of Angela’s shirt, moving forward and easily backing her against the Harley. Then she leaned in a bit more to bend the shorter woman backwards over the gas tank. “You keep eye fucking me, and I can assure you I will finish this.”

Jessie laid her hand gently on Devon’s shoulder. “Please don’t do this, okay?”

Her soft voice penetrated the rage enveloping Devon’s brain, calling her back from the edge. She breathed deeply and released Angela. When she stepped away, Jessie slipped an arm around her waist and held her tightly.

Jessie looked evenly at her ex. “We’re done here.” She tugged at Devon’s midsection, guiding her back toward the house without another word to Angela. Whatever the woman grumbled in response was drowned out by the sound of the Roadster’s powerful engine.

Jessie turned back. “She shouldn’t be driving.”

Devon nodded, marching toward the curb again. Anger sizzled in the air around the motorcycle, but Devon ignored it for Jessie’s sake. She held up her hands. “Why don’t you let me get you a ride?”

Angela scowled. “Again, none of your business. You can have the ungrateful bitch.”

With that, she revved the engine loudly, drowning out Devon’s retort. A moment later the Harley accelerated down the street, the rumble fading into the night.

Devon returned to where Jessie stood, and they faced each other silently in the glow of the porch light.

“Are you okay?” Devon wanted nothing more than to wrap Jessie in a tight embrace, but she didn’t want to push after what had just happened with her ex.

“I feel like we’ve already covered this ground.” Jessie smiled sadly.

“Sorry,” Devon said, unsure of the expression on Jessie’s face. She was suddenly terrified. What if her response to Angela made Jessie think she was just as bad? Some hotheaded asshole that couldn’t keep her temper? And what about Angela? It was plain that Jessie didn’t want her hands on her tonight, but they had a history that Devon knew nothing about. Maybe Jessie didn’t want her involvement. She raked her hand through her hair in frustration. Jesus, I screwed this up. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she studied her boots waiting for the admonishment she supposed she deserved.

“Would you like to take a walk?” Jessie asked.

“What? Sure.”

They fell into step on the sidewalk. Devon took a chance and linked her right arm through Jessie’s left as they strolled silently in the warm spring evening. She wondered if Jessie felt her arm tremble or the heat suffusing her body as they leaned against one another slightly. At the end of the street they stopped under the shadow of a massive oak tree in the center of the cul-de-sac. Jessie leaned back against the wide trunk and regarded Devon seriously.

“You said you were going to finish your thought from earlier.”

Devon chuckled, remembering. Now, as she looked at Jessie with slivers of moonlight seeping through the tree branches, casting wisps of golden highlights in her hair and accentuating the beauty of her face, she was struck momentarily speechless. The scent of orange blossoms wafted through the air, sweetly intoxicating, carried by a light breeze that gently caressed the silken hair along Jessie’s neck. Devon pressed her hands to the rough surface of the tree trunk on either side of Jessie’s shoulders. She leaned in until their faces were inches apart. Something beyond physical was happening between them, and whatever it was felt too good to ignore.

“You are very beautiful,” Devon whispered, mesmerized by the enchanting eyes searching hers and the way Jessie’s lips curved into a shy smile. She reached out to gently touch a finger to the area around Jessie’s eye, wincing at the thought of the force needed to cause such a bruise. She wished she’d hit Honeycutt harder. “Does it hurt?”

“Not right now.” Jessie bit her bottom lip.

Devon stared as she released it, noting the perfectly full shape and a slight indentation at the center. She swallowed hard, feeling the urge to touch her tongue to that very spot. Their breath mingled. Devon waited until she recognized a welcoming expression and Jessie gave a brief nod. Dipping her head ever so slowly, she brushed a whisper of a kiss tenderly on Jessie’s mouth before drawing back to gauge her response. Jessie’s pupils dilated, nearly obliterating the green, her lips slightly parted and welcoming.

The second kiss was still gentle but more thorough than the first. Devon took Jessie’s lower lip into her mouth, sucking lightly before releasing it to dance her tongue playfully along the smooth warmth inside. Jessie responded with her own teasing strokes matching the movements of Devon’s tongue, while she hooked her fingers in the belt loops of Devon’s jeans to pull her closer. She wrapped her arms around Jessie, taking the kiss even deeper, empowered by the realization of Jessie kissing her with equal intensity. A low moan came from deep in her throat as Jessie’s body moved against hers. The taste of her kiss combined with the smell of Jessie’s perfume and the press of her body blissfully assaulted Devon’s senses and she lost herself in the wonder of it all.

When they came up for air, Devon’s head was swimming and her body was on fire. With their lips still a breath apart, she searched Jessie eyes, finding only the reflection of her own growing attraction. This woman was unique in so many ways, made her feel things she hadn’t experienced in so long. She felt an overwhelming need to protect and care for Jessie, and the intensity of those emotions scared the hell out of her. Devon drew a shaky breath and forced herself to step back, afraid of giving into her body’s physical responses and pushing Jessie too far too soon.

“I should walk you back,” she managed to say, dragging her eyes away from the hypnotic emerald gaze.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I should help clean up,” Jessie said as if to herself. She took Devon’s hand and threaded their fingers together as they went back to where Devon was parked to say their nervous goodnights. Devon didn’t want the evening to end and it was pretty clear that Jessie felt the same way.

“Thanks again for the invite. I had a great time.” She took Jessie’s other hand, leaning back against the Jeep and pulling Jessie close again.

Jessie said, “Thank you for the card. I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“Listen.” Devon hesitated. “About earlier.” She plunged ahead desperately, “I didn’t mean to come off like some thug. It’s just when I saw her hands on you, I—”

Jessie placed her fingertip lightly on Devon’s lips to silence her, and then leaned in to replace her fingers with a light kiss. “I think you’re chivalrous.” She kissed Devon again to reaffirm the statement. The kiss was a tender absolution, and for a fleeting moment Devon felt the possibility of redemption in this woman’s touch. Jessie’s eyes held hers, quietly reassuring when their lips parted.

She took Jessie’s hand again, wanting to keep that connection as long as possible. “I leave Monday for SWAT school in Orlando. I’ll be gone all week, but would you have dinner with me when I get back?”

“I’d like that very much.”

Devon didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until she exhaled in relief. She climbed into the Jeep and started the engine. Jessie recited her number and Devon plugged it into her phone. “I’ll call you Friday, then—if not sooner.” She grinned.

“Sooner sounds nice.” Jessie remained next to the driver’s door, apparently not wanting to walk away. “Thank you for coming, and…for the walk.” They smiled at each other. Devon reached out and pulled Jessie in for another kiss that ended too soon. A voice called to Jessie from the house.

Devon put the Jeep in first gear and said, “Goodnight Jessie. Happy birthday.”

Chapter Seven

DEVON AND NATE crept through the bushes at the rear of the property, stopping for cover behind a large blue and white trailer near the back fence. They hunkered down to wait in the tall grass of the overgrown yard with the shadows of two hulking trees blocking the moonlight, making the darkness even blacker. A dog’s deep bark echoed from somewhere in the distance.

A murder suspect was barricaded inside the house. An hour earlier, street officers had cordoned off the area in preparation for the SWAT team’s arrival. The hostage negotiators had established phone contact with the suspect, but were nowhere near resolving the situation. Kelsey Sinclair was the lead negotiator tonight. Devon preferred Kelsey’s style because she was sharp and didn’t play around. As a member of the team, Kelsey, like Devon and Nate, performed her specialty duties in addition to the daily responsibilities of her job. They all had a monthly training day and were paged out whenever situations like tonight’s warranted their unique skills.

“See anything?” Devon asked Nate as he peered around the side of the trailer at the house.

“No movement that I can tell.”

In her earpiece the negotiator’s supervisor advised SWAT to continue holding their position.

“Jesus,” Devon said, “how much longer are they gonna piss around with this guy? He’s bluffing. His wife’s not in there. Kelsey already said so. We can toss a few flash bangs through the windows on the north side to draw his attention and then Scott can ram the back door here. Easy entry and we take him.” Devon leaned out slightly to view the house.

“I’ll let the captain know we have a good entry point back here. Maybe he’s getting tired of waiting too.” Nate stepped back, keying his mic to talk to the SWAT commander.

Devon checked her watch. Two-forty. Damn. At this rate, she could forget getting any sleep. In fact, if this went on very much longer, she’d barely have enough time to make it to Orlando for the start of class. If she were late, she figured the instructors would understand that she’d been on a tactical call-out.

Sweat ran down her spine beneath her BDUs and the bulky ballistic raid vest. At least this time they weren’t standing out in the blazing sun like the last call-out. That one had lasted over eight hours, but the team had successfully rounded up four armed robbery suspects without firing a single shot. Most of the time that was the case because even the biggest badass tended to shrink in the face of the military-garbed, heavily-armed team.

Devon re-focused on the house. A shadow moved across the window to her right. “Nate,” she whispered, pointing in that direction.

He nodded, then gave a thumbs up, indicating it was time for the team to do its thing.

“Sinclair,” the negotiations supervisor spoke in her ear, “keep him talking. SWAT’s going in.”

“Spencer and James, you’ll make entry from the east,” the commander said. He monitored the entire situation from a position near the front of the house. Six additional team members were posted at intervals around the entire perimeter and a sniper lay in a prone shooting position on the roof of the house next door, his scope trained on the southeast bedroom window. According to Kelsey’s information, that was where the suspect would likely be located. The commander continued issuing orders. “I want flash-bang grenades flying on my signal. We shock the hell out of him, then we move. Everybody in position?” A series of affirmative responses followed.

“Dev.”

She made eye contact with her partner.

“Two to the body...”

“One to the head,” Devon finished. Nate winked at her.

They crouched and hustled forward, Devon taking a position on the right side of the door and Nate the left. Scott came up behind Nate with the battering ram. Once the breach was made, Devon and Nate would enter the residence to locate and secure the suspect. The single-paned window was just above her right shoulder. Devon chanced a peek inside, hoping that the suspect was still in that part of the house. It was dark and still. The dirty curtains inside were open, but prevented her from seeing much due to the visual angle from her position. She indicated no sighting with a negative shake of her head for Nate.

“On three, people,” the commander instructed. Devon pulled the concussion grenade from her belt, ready to toss it through the window. Flash-bangs exploded with the force of an actual grenade and caused a couple seconds of shock to the body of anyone inside, which meant precision was key. The goal was to have nearly simultaneous explosions within the house to stun and confuse the target, allowing the team to enter, and hopefully execute a successful arrest.

“One…two…three.”

Glass shattered as grenades were launched inside through various windows around the house. A series of explosions rocked the night.

“Go!” Nate shouted.

Scott smashed through the wooden door with the metal battering ram and Devon followed Nate inside. Clouds of smoke hung in the air making visibility difficult. They moved with precision through the rooms, leading with the muzzles of assault rifles, bright shafts of light from their flashlights illuminating the darkness, searching every inch before continuing. Three doors in the hallway were closed. She and Nate approached the first. Devon took a cover position as Nate prepared to kick the door. Just as he leaned back to start his thrust, the sound of a shot ricocheted off the walls from deeper in the house.

Instinctively, both officers pressed their backs to the wall. They waited and listened. Silence. No return fire indicated that he hadn’t shot at other team members. Suicide was another option. Nate motioned to the closed door and Devon tried the knob. Unlocked. She covered him while he kicked the door open and they swept quickly inside to clear it before moving onto the next room.

In the third room the suspect lay sprawled in the center, bleeding from an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. Devon approached cautiously, as she was trained, taking nothing for granted. Still covering him with her rifle, she placed a foot on the pistol to secure it while Nate checked for a pulse. Then they retraced their steps back away from the body, not wanting to disturb the crime scene any further. Nate radioed for paramedics, but they both knew it was a formality. He was obviously dead.

After stowing her rifle in its case, Devon removed layers of gear at the back of her car. She checked the time and groaned.

Nate loaded up next to her. “What time is it?” He stripped off his ballistic vest and tossed it in his trunk.

“Almost three-thirty.”

He winced. “Ouch. You won’t be getting any sleep before class today.”

“Nope. I was supposed to get up at five-thirty anyway. I’m all packed, so if I get home by four, maybe I can grab a power nap, shower and get on the road.”

“Then get going,” Nate said. “I’ll take care of the wrap-up here.”

“Thanks, buddy. I’ll call you and let you know how the school’s going.”

“Have fun.”

AT SIX-FIFTEEN DEVON pulled out of her driveway. She had actually managed to sneak in an hour nap and was feeling a little better after a quick breakfast and hot shower. Experience told her that the boost would be short-lived. Running on precious little sleep, the day would be brutal. She sighed and pulled onto the interstate. Nothing she hadn’t done before. Sleep deprivation was a fact of life, the tradeoff for the adrenaline fix of the SWAT team.

Her phone rang just as she reached for the volume knob on the radio. She pulled it off her belt and frowned when she saw Kelsey’s number in the caller ID. Devon didn’t think she’d forgotten anything at the scene.

“What’s up?”

“Unfortunately, we are. Still.” Kelsey’s voice sounded as tired as Devon felt. “I tried to catch you before you left the call-out. I have a couple of things to talk to you about. I figured we could chat while we’re both on the road.”

“Sure.” Devon slipped on her sunglasses against the bright sun rising in front of her. She wasn’t used to dealing with daybreak and the morning traffic. That’s why she worked evening shifts, to avoid both. She maneuvered her way into the fast lane and settled in behind a beat up red pickup truck, the driver seemingly as in a hurry as she was.

“We got the results back on the car from the bank robbery. Just like I thought. The VINs were altered. And, customs recovered a couple of the high-end cars being loaded onto a barge in Miami, apparently bound for South America.”

“So, what’s the deal?”

“Normally I wouldn’t even think of the two cases being related, and they might not be, but the VINs on the cars in Miami were altered, switched just like the others. Plus—get this—the wire chatter yesterday was all about shipments of cars, and the main player wanted to know if ‘Roy’ could deliver high-end merchandise.”

“Roy sounds like a busy guy.”

“Yeah. He’s moving up in the world. But the fact that he’s tied into an organized ring is gonna make it a bit more difficult to solve. We’ll have to work the wire hard and set up some surveillance. We got lucky they found that car.”

“Maybe there’ll be prints from that one,” Devon said.

“Maybe, but I’m not counting on it. My snitch says that Roy’s shop is moving four or five vehicles a week with this new guy on the payroll. He’s apparently a pro with plenty of experience. The wire gave us some additional leads to run down as well. I’ll have to get with my informant to see if this new information fits with the talk on the street. So far, nothing ties the two together on that level.”

“Do we have a name on this other guy?” The traffic was lighter now that she was out of Tampa and Devon relaxed a little. She wouldn’t be late after all.

“Vincent. No last name yet. He’s supposed to have a place near Roy’s shop. One of those shitty little duplexes or trailer parks, if I had to guess. I’ll head over there today and look around. He’s supposed to be driving a black Taurus. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

There was that name again. Devon knew in her heart that Vincent would be the same guy she and Jessie arrested. What she didn’t know was if this Honeycutt had anything to do with the one from her past. If so, what the hell was he doing here? True, Tampa was a big city, but of all the cities in the country, for him to show up here? “Listen Kelsey, I need a favor.”

“Name it.”

“Check a guy named Honeycutt. We arrested him the other night on a DV charge.”

“What am I looking for?”

“I’ve got a hunch he’s your guy. The first name fits and we got him over on Broadway.”

“Is that it?”

“No. There’s something else that might be going on, but I don’t want to jump to conclusions or say anything until I know a little more. So, if you could just give me a little time and trust me on this, I’d appreciate it. I need a full criminal history and background on this guy. It’s a personal favor.”

“Say no more. I’ll let you know what I come up with. Have fun playing war games.”

“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”

She disconnected the call and mulled over the possibility that the past was somehow back to haunt her. The military had enacted “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” a year before, but in contrast the police department had quit asking questions about an applicant’s sexuality altogether. This Honeycutt’s appearance wasn’t troublesome as far as posing any threat to her position. So far, Devon had found that her sexual preference wasn’t an issue here, as long as she did her job. She and Mac often agreed that they had made the right move making the jump to law enforcement, and this agency was more progressive than most. Devon wondered whether she should call Mac and let her know about this guy, but then again, there was nothing to tell right now—at least nothing concrete. As soon as Kelsey had a few more answers, she’d have a better handle on what was going on and then Mac would be the first to know.

DEVON FOUND A seat at the rear of the classroom and glanced around at her fellow students. As expected, they were all the stereotypical SWAT guys, muscle-bound and oozing testosterone, which wasn’t a big surprise. No one that resembled T.J. appeared to be a student here. Devon was the only female in the room. She laughed to herself. Sorry, Mac. Finding Mac’s new woman of interest would take a bit more work. Once she got a sense of where everyone in the class was from she’d ask around about T.J. If she was really a TAC team member here in Orlando, somebody would know her. A guy wearing a red instructor’s shirt entered, walking purposefully across the front of the room. Devon guessed he was about her age, thirty-two or thirty-three. His healthy tan and dark hair contrasted with striking blue eyes that surveyed the room with the self-assured confidence borne of experience.

“Good morning,” he addressed the class. “I’m Bert Reinhardt with the Orange County Sheriff’s Office.”

Orange County? Excellent. That would make it easier to get some information for Mac. Devon listened as the instructor briefed them about the class.

“The week ahead of you will be filled with physical challenge. This course is designed to be intense and rewarding, to push each student to new levels of ability and confidence. We’ll start the week off at the firing range to put you through some paces and physical stress, just to see how well you shoot in that environment. This afternoon we’ll also do some hand-to-hand drills and disarming techniques to bring you up to speed on some of the latest applications. Later in the week we’ll be doing building entries and extractions, with rappelling and live scenarios. We’re lucky to have one of the top instructors in the state with us this week. She’ll be here in a moment to introduce herself.” He picked up a stack of forms from the desk beside him and grinned. “I get to take care of the boring shit.”

Everyone laughed as he passed out the registration forms. Devon lost interest in the procedures for filling them out. Every class was the same, regardless of the subject matter and she wondered why they didn’t make a database to store all of the information and then add the dates and subject for schools attended. With a sigh she reminded herself that just like the military, law enforcement was a government organization, and the endless repetition of paperwork was inevitable. She resolved not to allow her fatigue to affect her mood.

Her paperwork completed, Devon leaned forward in her chair to rest her elbows on the desk and cupped her forehead in her hands. She closed her eyes, grateful to have even a minute of rest.

Her mind drifted pleasantly to the image of Jessie standing silhouetted in the moonlight, her eyes drawing Devon into their warmth and passion. Since the day they’d first met, she’d felt a strong attraction to Jessie, but knowing that Jessie was interested changed everything. Even still, Devon sensed that a relationship with Jessie would be entirely different than she was accustomed to. Jessie was special, not the type who would enter into a casual relationship. She was the kind of woman who needed to be courted—Devon laughed to herself—never having thought in these terms before. Jessie had an inner strength and depth to her personality that made her more intriguing and challenging, a woman worth every effort.

Devon had never cared for flighty or shallow women, and Jessie was obviously confident, intelligent, and yeah, sexy as hell. Devon hoped she’d be up to the task, given her own dismal track record with relationships. She relived the brief tender kisses they shared and felt the familiar flood of energy flow through her as the memory lit up her nerve endings. Jessie definitely had responded, and damn those kisses were unbelievable. Content to revel in the sublime sensations, she floated mentally until Reinhart’s voice brought her back to the present.

“Listen up, everyone. Let’s get started,” he called out.

The noisy chatter faded as the students turned their attention to the front. Returning from the blissful daydream, Devon focused on the woman striding confidently through the door. She gasped. The new instructor scanned the room, stopped short, and gaped back at Devon as though she had seen a ghost.

Oh, shit. Devon could not believe it.

They stared at each other across the expanse of the classroom until Jillian Gray spun on her heels and exited the way she’d entered, leaving Devon sitting in stunned silence.

Chapter Eight

REINHART LOOKED SHOCKED by Jillian’s sudden exit, but recovered quickly. “Take ten everybody,” he said and then pursued Jillian out the door.

The room buzzed with speculation about what was going on. Most of the guys got up to take advantage of the unscheduled break, chattering while they filed out of the room. What would make the new instructor suddenly run out? Was she looking at someone in the class when she came in? Someone asked aloud which one of them had hit that before, and another suggested he wouldn’t mind a turn. Devon tried to ignore the comments. Finally a guy who had obviously had his shirt tailored to make his biceps look bigger than they actually were, snickered, “She’s probably PMS’ing.” Devon closed her eyes and gripped the desk hard to keep from popping off at the idiot.

“Yo, TPD? You coming?”

It took a couple of seconds for Devon to realize the question was directed at her. She opened her eyes to see a young man wearing a Lakeland SWAT shirt watching her from the doorway with kind eyes. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Not waiting, he disappeared into the hall.

She sat staring at the spot where Jillian had stood, unable to believe what she had seen with her own eyes. Jillian was here? The thought was too insane to process. After all of these years without any contact or a clue as to her whereabouts, how in the hell could they end up in the same classroom in Central Florida?

Jillian.

Devon’s mind was a blur of thoughts and images. Angry pain welled up inside as memories of her first heartbreak returned to the surface. Jillian. The woman who had awakened her body and branded her soul, then tossed their love aside in the blink of an eye. She’d never quite gotten over the way Jillian did it without ever looking back, without even asking what Devon wanted. How could she be here?

The walls of the classroom closed in, making her feel like a caged animal. She launched out of her seat and charged from the room, down the hallway through the exterior door, bursting out into the brilliant morning sun. When Devon reached the Jeep she gripped the bumper to steady herself against the sensation of her carefully constructed world spiraling out of control.

Never in her wildest imaginings would she have thought Jillian would reappear in her life, and certainly not like this. She sensed a familiar presence and turned. Jillian stood across the lot watching her. After a moment’s hesitation she stepped off the curb in Devon’s direction, only to be intercepted by Reinhart. He stood with his back to Devon, blocking her view as he spoke to Jillian. A minute later the two of them reentered the building.

Devon sat on the bumper and pulled in deep breaths, slowly corralling her runaway emotions. She considered the situation and realized that her choices were few. Leaving wasn’t an option. Granted, Jillian’s appearance changed the complexion of this week immeasurably, but this training was important to her professionally if she hoped to advance on the team. That was the reason she was here, regardless of this unexpected complication.

Devon stood and examined her reflection in the windshield. She was a completely different person now. The heartache Jillian had inflicted was bad, but she’d survived, stronger for the experience. No way was she going to let that woman see any weakness now. She was no longer the naïve little virgin who had fallen victim to the charms of the charismatic womanizer. Devon squared her shoulders and walked back toward the classroom. This time, she was the one in control.

As the instructors returned, Jillian’s eyes instantly locked onto hers again, but this time Devon’s face was a mask of indifference. She could read the confusion and maybe even a touch of fear in those features she knew so well. She held the stare, taking a swallow from her water bottle to mask her own inner jitters. Jillian dropped her gaze to the desk in front of her and fumbled with the papers there. Devon was a little surprised to see her so obviously flustered. Good. She drew perverse comfort knowing that her presence was unsettling Jillian. Now if she could only keep herself from coming unglued.

Reinhart and Jillian conversed for a few moments at the front of the classroom. Although Devon couldn’t hear the conversation, it was obvious the two had a great rapport. Bert said something that drew a smile and a good-natured shove from Jill. The banter soon shifted back to business and Bert picked up where he’d left off before the interruption. “Thanks for your patience, everyone. Some of you already know our lead instructor. Sergeant Gray is the supervisor for the Orange County Special Weapons and Tactics team. She is widely respected as a tactical leader and SWAT trainer throughout the state and even the country. We are fortunate to have her with us this week. Pay attention. She has a lot to offer. So, now I’ll turn it over to the sergeant.” He nodded in her direction and moved aside. “T.J.?”

T.J.? What the—? The letters echoed through Devon’s skull like the sound effects from a B-rated horror flick. No. This couldn’t be. Could it? She clawed through the resurgent memories clouding her brain in the presence of Jillian, back to the conversation she’d had with Mac. Five-eleven, auburn hair, big brown eyes, worked in Orange County. Devon stifled a groan. This day was getting worse by the minute.

Jillian smiled briefly at Reinhart in acknowledgement. She glanced again at Devon and then surveyed the class. “Sorry for the interruption earlier.”

Devon was glad to be sitting in the back row. Jillian’s proximity was rattling her. One minute, she was full of anger and the next she’d see Jill smile and her stomach was in knots. She downed her bottle of water and tried to look anywhere but directly at Jillian, wondering how she was going to make it to Friday. Jillian turned to the whiteboard behind her, and Devon surreptitiously studied her while she picked up the black marker and wrote. The years had been kind to Jill. She looked fitter and carried herself with more confidence than ever. Her figure was still slender, but she sported more muscle than Devon remembered. Tight muscle. The black BDU pants, body-hugging black T-shirt and boots gave her a ruggedly attractive appearance. Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail that brushed the back of her neck when she moved. Jill’s looks were never in question, but the added maturity made her more beautiful than ever. Devon swallowed hard, fighting inappropriate memories.

Jillian turned back toward the class as though she’d heard Devon’s thoughts. Her dark eyes caught Devon’s for a moment and held before she appeared to mentally shake herself, shifting her instructor persona into place. Her focus tracked around the room as she gestured to the words she had written on the board behind her, “Find the warrior within you.”

In a strong and certain voice she said, “A true warrior is invincible. He competes with no one except himself, only striving to defeat the fear of limitations that we harbor within.” She swept the room with a fierce look. “Those are the words of the Sensei, Morihei Ueshiba, the great martial arts master and founder of Aikido. The warrior within is what we’re after this week. You will be tested— pushed—beyond your previous limits, physically and mentally. Every day will be a challenge to reach a new personal best. You will achieve higher goals here.” Jillian moved down the aisle between desks as she spoke, incredibly focused. Each word measured carefully and delivered with quiet intensity that riveted her audience. Devon was no exception, drawn in with the rest of the class.

“Every one of you is here because you are good at what you do. You are outstanding SWAT officers. I’m here to take you to the next level, and interestingly enough, the next level is inside of you. Mastering skills is only the beginning. A true warrior knows himself, commands his own mind, and knows he will achieve victory. Therefore he does not doubt or hesitate. That’s what I want from you this week. I want you to merge body and mind.”

She tapped the side of her head. “What I’m talking about is urban warfare. That’s what we are, right? Urban warriors? A true warrior seeks peace. The role of policing is to keep the peace.” She was almost directly in front of Devon’s desk now. “When the public is attacked or afraid, they call the police. What happens when your brothers and sisters in blue get into trouble? They call SWAT.” She stopped inches from Devon’s seat. “They call you.” She slapped her hand down on Devon’s desk to emphasize the last word. Jillian’s eyes blazed with fiery emotion, pulling Devon involuntarily into the vortex of her passionate speech.

“Your training will be concentrated and intense.” She worked her way toward the front again and Devon found herself watching that slow sway of her hips a little too long. Warning bells clanged in her brain. “Remember, we are defensively offensive,” Jillian continued. “By design we are reactive. We only respond to provocation, but once we respond, we must ensure that our adversary feels an overwhelming force.”

When Jillian reached the front of the room, she turned again to face the class. “Today is going to be all about you. When your body is pushed to the limit, can you still overcome that stress to focus on your task? Once you’ve had to battle physical obstacles, the bad guy still needs to be neutralized. You are no good to your team if you can’t make the shot. The warrior in you must prevail—body and mind. Make sure you’re hydrated. This morning is not for the faint of heart. I’ll see you all on the range in fifteen minutes.”

JILLIAN STOOD, HANDS on hips, at the center of the firing line with a nine-millimeter pistol encased in the holster strapped to her right thigh, waiting for the class to assemble. Devon took in her surroundings as she walked with the rest of her classmates toward the firing line. The outdoor range was well maintained. A roofed area with bench seats and a couple of water coolers was just off the parking lot. About thirty yards beyond that, covered shooting stands stood at the entrance of several firing areas separated by eight-foot-high cement block walls extending perpendicular from the thirty-foot “berm,” the large hills at the end of the shooting lanes used to catch the bullets fired. The firing area itself was a grassy, uncovered space, approximately fifty yards deep and wide, with lines marking the standard shooting distances from three to fifty yards.

Fifteen yards behind Jillian a row of targets stood in a line. They were the typical silhouette paper targets used by police agencies around the state, sectioned off into various scoring areas. Center mass and head areas carried a value of five, while the outer torso scored four, and arms counting three. These targets were all folded in various ways, either vertically or horizontally, removing half of the silhouette from view.

When the group gathered in front of her, Jillian spoke. “As you can see, your normal scoring areas on the targets have been reduced by half. Additionally, the only hits that will count are those in the center or fives. You’ll have to make certain your shot groups are tight, because in this exercise there’s not much room for error.” A breeze caught the red wind flag to Devon’s right, causing it to flap briskly in a westward direction. Jillian glanced up as well before continuing.

“Everybody take a position in front of one of the targets downrange.” The students complied. “That will be your firing position for the morning. This exercise will be physically and mentally taxing. We’ll begin with a short run. Two miles, just to get everybody’s heart rate up. When we get back, fall in on the fifteen-yard line in front of your target. We’ll take two shots. Then we’ll continue with additional calisthenics, and at the completion again everyone takes two shots. This is going to go on for a while, so I hope you’re ready. As you become fatigued and the heat starts taking its toll, your mental strength must take over. There is no quitting and again, only fives count. A miss gets you eliminated. Questions?”

No one had any.

“Then let’s go.” Without another word Jillian started off in a jog, and everyone fell in behind her. Devon felt confident about this particular test. She knew her cardio fitness was above average and she was a good shot. It didn’t matter how far Jillian was going to push them, she would not see Devon fail. After the second lap around the range, they returned to the line. Devon stopped at her target, set and fired. No problem.

Reinhardt shouted at them, “Squat thrusts with a pushup! Give me ten and take two shots. We’ll do five reps for a total of fifty thrusts and ten shots. Don’t stop until you’re told!”

Devon squatted, kicked her legs behind her into a plank position, knocked out a pushup, jumped her feet back in and stood. After ten reps, she set and fired. Ten more squat thrusts. Two shots. She was starting to feel it in her arms and legs. That pushup in the middle doubled the intensity and she concentrated on controlling her breathing. The guy next to her, who loved his muscles and bragged about his fitness, missed the next shot. Jillian tapped him on the shoulder and he stepped off the line.

“I don’t care how much weight you can bench press, if you can’t make the shot you are no good to me.” Jill’s words carried through the air. Devon’s bullets hit home.

Suddenly Jillian’s voice was in her ear. “I remember your tenacity. Are you still too stubborn to quit?”

Devon shook off the teasing tone and dove to the ground for the next set. She could still feel Jill standing just over her left shoulder and wondered why she didn’t go bother someone else. She squatted, kicked, did a pushup, jumped her feet back in, and stood on ever more unsteady legs. Doing her best to ignore Jillian, she concentrated on her shots. On and on it went, endlessly it seemed. Periodically Jill would wander over to offer encouragement to those remaining, and her words to Devon struck a nerve each time. “Just like the major’s PT challenge in advanced training, Dev. It’s all you.” Her voice was low and held a hint of emotion. Devon refused to look at her. The fatigue was affecting her, eroding her emotional strength, making Jillian’s encouragement nothing but stressful.

“Dig deep, people!” Jillian urged. The line had been systematically thinning. Devon’s legs, arms and lungs were on fire. She dragged herself to her feet, following what she was sure had to be the last rep. She straightened. Pulled in a slow, deep breath, drew her pistol, pulled in more air. Focus. Squeeze. Don’t jerk the trigger. The shot exploded from her pistol.

“Stop!” She waited while Reinhardt checked the target, thankful for the chance to rest at last. He examined hers and broke into a wide smile. “Good job, James!” Then he moved to his right to continue scoring, and to Devon’s shock only she and the guy from Lakeland remained standing on the line.

He grinned sideways at her. “Just you and me, TPD.”

“Bert,” Jillian shouted. “Put up two new targets. Headshots only. Let’s get a winner.” She stood between Devon and John from Lakeland. “When I say go, last set. Ten squat thrusts and two shots. Good luck.”

Devon had no idea how she managed the last thrust, but miraculously she was standing, slightly swaying. She sucked in a huge breath and drew her pistol. As she sighted, Reinhart asked, “T.J. What does the winner get?”

Her first shot hit dead center and she set for the next.

Jillian called from somewhere to her left, “Dinner on me.”

Devon jerked the trigger and missed the last shot.

MERCIFULLY, THE FIRST day came to a close and all Devon wanted was to escape to the hotel. Exhausted from lack of sleep and fighting to focus during eight hours of training while battling the Jillian-induced emotional storm had left her nerves frayed as never before. Once alone inside her room she fell onto the nearest queen-sized bed, almost immediately drifting into a restless, fitful sleep filled with memories she thought dead and buried long ago.

A sharp ray of light cut through the darkness, illuminating the end of the bed momentarily and then extinguished with the click of the closing door. She felt rather than heard a figure moving toward the bed, a silent presence that was not unexpected or frightening. Her nipples tightened with anticipation as the shadowy figure slid beneath the sheet to caress a hand over her naked flesh. She gritted her teeth and sucked in a breath as her nerve endings fired to life under the knowing touch. The visitor’s hands moved slowly from her chest around her breasts, carefully avoiding her puckering nipples, down her abdomen, where they traced lightly along the rim of her navel before continuing lower. Caresses stopped at the edge of the trimmed patch of light curls, fanning out instead over her hips, sliding along the soft skin of one inner thigh, below her knee then returning back up the inside of the other leg.

The tantalizing touch continued the delicious torment as a warm mouth closed on a nipple, teeth biting down to a point just short of pain, sending a flood of arousal between her legs. She heard a deep, sensuous, definitely female laugh. Talented fingers moved between her legs into the source of wet heat and she moaned when they slipped inside her. Devon struggled to raise her head, wanting to see the face of the stranger drawing forth her passion, but a firm hand pushed her back down as the first warning shudder of climax gripped her thighs. Her hips jerked forcefully into the thrusting hand as pleasure streaked along her spine like a lit fuse racing toward her center. She felt the press of the woman’s thumb over her throbbing clitoris, and as she strained on the edge of oblivion, Jillian’s face came into view inches from her own.

“Jill–” She blinked and the face before her morphed into Jessie’s just as the orgasm ripped through her.

Devon’s eyes snapped open while tremors of arousal pulsated inside. Jillian’s laughter but Jessie’s face still flashed though her mind. Shit. I have to get a grip on myself. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. She sat up trying to orient herself and finally realized where she was. The closed drapes on the windows prevented her from guessing at the time, but she could still see some light leaking around the edges. Devon checked her watch and saw that it was almost seven o’clock. She had been asleep for two hours. Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since eleven thirty that morning and motivating her to get cleaned up to go in search of a meal. Concentrating on that thought rather than the disturbing images in her brain, she climbed into the shower and let the cold water beat against her skin while she willed her mind to clear. She was sure some shrink would have a field day examining her latest dream with its twisted carnal outcome. Having no answers herself, Devon did her best not to dwell on it.

Fatigue and hunger sapped any interest in leaving the hotel grounds to search for a place to eat, so she opted for the onsite restaurant. Devon took a seat at the small outdoor bar area next to the kidney-shaped swimming pool and ordered a beer while she waited for her food. The evening was pleasantly warm. She enjoyed her meal, and the waterfall flowing into the pool created a tranquility that allowed her to relax. She wondered if Jessie was having a busy night at work and thought about the real date she'd take her on when she got back to Tampa. That made her smile. The bartender automatically brought her another beer and Devon sat back in the high backed barstool, happy to have her thoughts back on familiar ground.

“Mind if I join you?” Jillian’s unmistakable whiskey smooth voice penetrated Devon’s quiet musings. She flinched inwardly but didn’t move and continued to stare out over the pool as she sipped her beer.

Jillian climbed onto the neighboring stool, her thigh brushing against Devon’s. She ordered a beer and two shots of whiskey. Devon sat silently, waiting, afraid that if she looked at Jill, the reactions to her earlier dream would be visible on her face. The sound of that voice never failed to stir her senses. Even after all of these years, the reactions were still obviously hard wired to her central nervous system. Her mind cursed her body’s response to the contact of Jillian’s leg against her own, no doubt still feeling the effects of her distressingly erotic dream. This week would be interminable.

After a few minutes of silence, Jillian finally spoke. “I know you were as shocked as I was this morning.” She slid one shot of whiskey to her left, briefly touching the back of Devon’s hand.

Devon jerked her hand away. The muscle below her right eye twitched the way it always did when she was upset.

“Sorry,” Jillian said nearly inaudibly. She threw back her shot and chased it with the beer. “I really am sorry, Dev. I—I wanted to call you so many times…” Her voice caught and she pressed her palms on the bar.

Devon huffed, “Save it. I did call, but it’s kind of hard to get through on a disconnected number. You always knew how to get in touch with me, Jillian. I wrote to you every day for months without a response.” She stood, extracted a twenty from her pocket, and tossed it on the bar. “Finally, even my dumb ass got the message.” Devon motioned to the bartender. “Take the shots and her beer out of that.”

She turned to walk away, but Jillian grabbed her arm. Devon stiffened and closed her eyes, willing her skin to stop tingling where Jillian touched her. She looked down at her arm where Jillian held it, but refused to meet her eyes. The dredged up memories of the past had dangerously exposed her still painful wounds, and Jillian’s touch was too much right now.

“Good night,” she rasped. Jillian released her and Devon made her escape, leaving her ex-lover alone at the bar staring after her.

Chapter Nine

DAY TWO DAWNED full of dread. Devon opted for breakfast at the hotel instead of the cafeteria at the training center in order to delay the inevitable interaction with Jill. While she ate, she sorted through her thoughts trying to find a way to put them into more perspective that might allow her to compartmentalize her emotions. She was certain this was the only way she would make it through the week. Devon stirred her coffee and tapped her spoon on the lip of the ceramic mug, noticing how the olive green along the top bled into copper and then a deep brown at the handle. All of the colors were distinctive, yet blended together at nearly indistinguishable points, very much like her own feelings.

Last night, she’d been so flustered by Jillian’s re-appearance, her natural reaction was to lash out at her for all the pain that began the day Jill had walked out of her life. Jillian’s half-assed apology tapped into Devon’s temper, but somehow, she wasn’t even sure about her anger anymore. Once she’d gone upstairs, she regretted being so harsh with Jillian. What happened wasn’t either’s fault. So, why are you still clinging to your anger? she asked herself, already knowing the answer. Staying mad was easier than accepting what she couldn’t change.

The morning drills were hand-to-hand combat and ground fighting techniques designed to sharpen their skills. Bert matched up the students by approximate height and weight to minimize injury. Devon wasn’t really surprised that she and Jillian were paired up for the exercise.

“Are ya ready?” The question rolled playfully off Jillian's tongue. Devon had forgotten how much she loved that southern drawl. Jillian had a challenging gleam in her eyes. She bounced on the balls of her feet, hands in front of her, waiting for Devon’s advance.

“Yep.” Devon’s insides felt like jelly. She stared squarely back at Jill, fighting for her professional decorum, but lost the battle when an image of the two of them sparring in the army gym popped into her head. Back then Devon was the more muscular of the two, but Jill had shocked her with a leg sweep that dropped her flat on her back. She remembered the triumphant smile on Jillian’s face that day and the fun they always had in challenging each other.

The whistle blew and Devon lunged forward. She captured Jillian’s right wrist while simultaneously hooking her leg behind Jill’s for the sweep. Jillian was prepared and reacted quickly, shifting her weight to the outside to counter with an arm spear. Devon neutralized Jillian’s strike by stepping in and to the right. She crouched and drove her shoulder into Jill, like a linebacker’s tackle. Wrapping her arms around Jillian’s torso, she trapped Jill’s right arm against her side. Then she dropped her left leg back and twisted, allowing her momentum to carry them both to the mat facedown with Devon on top. Reinhardt blew the whistle to end the exercise.

The morning continued with more takedowns, and Devon realized that she was actually enjoying the training. She and Jillian had even managed to share a few laughs at each other’s expense during some of their less than graceful moments. The natural flow of their long ago friendship rose to the surface. The painful history between them notwithstanding, what was never in question was that they had always genuinely liked each other. The affectionate expression on Jill’s face as Devon helped her up following the last takedown reminded her of all of the hopes and dreams she once had, and emotion squeezed her heart.

Jillian moved to the center of the room. “Let’s break for lunch. It’s eleven thirty now. Be back here at one o’clock, ready to work.” She cast a questioning look in Devon’s direction. For a second, it looked like Jillian was going to walk back over to where Devon stood. Instead, she jammed her hands in her pockets and sidled over to Bert.

“We’re heading to our favorite grill if anyone wants to join us,” Bert called out. “I’ve got room for two or three, the rest can follow.”

Normally, Devon would have readily joined the group to build on the camaraderie with her classmates, but today she hesitated. Jillian looked uncomfortable and the physical contact between them all morning had Devon off balance. She thought maybe she should skip the lunch outing to take some time to re-group.

John, the guy from Lakeland P.D., nudged her arm. “You coming, Dev?”

She felt Jillian watching her again and her decision hung in the balance while her classmate looked at her expectantly. A sit-down lunch would require more conversation than was possible during the sparring sessions or the pistol range and Devon wasn’t sure she could carry on idle conversation with Jill. Then again, she liked John, and wanted the chance to get to know him and the others a little better. Plus, they would be in a large group, it wasn’t as though it was a date or anything. The desire to hang out with the class won out. “Yeah, sure.” Across the room, Jillian’s body language visibly relaxed.

John smiled brightly at her. “Great. You wanna ride together? I’ll drive. My ride’s the blue pickup.”

At the pub they pushed several tables together and everyone grabbed a chair. Although sitting at opposite ends, Devon felt Jillian’s presence acutely. She stole a glance when the waitress brought their drinks, unnerved to find Jillian watching her with an intense expression. All too clearly she remembered the first time Jill looked at her that way. She heard the sound of a pool game at the back of the bar, just like that night in Boston when Jillian had taught her to play. By the time the game ended, the attraction between them had been undeniable. Looking back, Devon would have to say that was the night she fell for Jill. Nothing in her life was ever the same after that night. Why couldn’t I see the danger?

“What about you, Devon?” She realized someone was talking to her.

“Sorry, what was that?”

John was waiting. “Do you have a nickname? You know, on your SWAT team?”

She shook her head no, pushing through the fog of lingering memories to focus on the present.

“So, Sarge,” someone else said, “you gonna tell us what T.J. stands for?”

Devon watched Jillian smirk at him, wondering when she picked up this nickname and what the hell else would happen next in this crazy week. She felt like she was in some twisted soap opera plot. Mac had met a woman named T.J. at her cousin’s party and it was all but certain that she and Jillian were one in the same. Jillian and Devon had a history and unfinished business. Devon couldn’t decide if she wanted to smack Jillian or hug her. She wondered if this situation could get any more fucked up.

Bert spoke up and supplied the explanation. “You know the training dummy ‘Tactical Ted’? Most departments use one. If you don’t, it’s a torso and head figure, used to practice punches and strikes, that bounces back after he’s hit. Well, when Jill first joined the team, the guys put her through a lot of shit. They used her like a live version of the dummy, testing and tormenting her, and she always bounced back. Just like Ted. One day someone said, “We’ve got Tactical Ted and Tactical Jill. It stuck.” He raised his glass and gave Jill an admiring look. “Now the student has become the master. And there you have the story of Tactical Jill. T.J. for short.”

Well, that sealed it. Devon tried not to think about the fact that she was just having fantasies about a woman who her best friend slept with a couple of weeks ago. Worse? Mac wanted more. Worse than that? Jillian was pushing boundaries with her this week and no matter how much she tried to ignore it, it was getting to her. Devon found herself remembering too many good things about Jillian, and her hormones didn’t want to behave. T.J.

Shit.

WEDNESDAY MORNING WAS warm and humid with a cloudless blue sky overhead as Devon hopped out of her Jeep in the parking lot of the training center. Sleep had been elusive during the night, with her brain playing endless mind loops of memories. Snapshots of supreme happiness followed by unbearable sadness. First love and first heartbreak. That was Jillian Gray, extreme highs and devastating lows. Like the day Jillian severed their ties. Devon remembered the conversation vividly. She had thought that although Jillian was discharged, they could somehow find a way to remain a couple. Move on, was all Jillian had said. She ended their relationship with one swift, fatal cut that left Devon bleeding out. It took a long time to recover from that wound. But she had.

A blast of cold air greeted her as she pulled open the glass door to enter the building. All of the offices she passed by on her way to the cafeteria were dark, their normal occupants still an hour or so from arriving, she guessed. Someone was already here because a full pot sat on the warmer of the coffee machine. The self-service area was stocked with a variety of cereals in small single-serving type boxes, packets of instant oatmeal and cereal bars. The fresh fruit and bagels looked pretty good, providing several choices for breakfast. Devon poured herself a cup of coffee and splashed in a dash of cream. She heard movement from the direction of the doorway behind her. “Black, right?” she asked, filling a second cup, somehow knowing it was Jill.

“Yep.” Jillian’s fingers lightly brushed Devon’s as she took the offered beverage.

Devon busied herself mixing a bowl of instant oatmeal using the hot water on the second warmer. Next, she peeled a banana and sliced it into the bowl, hyper-aware of Jillian watching her. Devon sensed that she wasn’t her usual gregarious self this morning, but didn’t ask. It wasn’t her business. She tucked a bottle of juice under her arm and carried her breakfast toward a table to eat.

“You mind some company?” Uncertainty edged Jillian’s voice.

Devon gestured to the empty chairs around the table. “Take your pick.”

Jillian sat across from her. Devon noted a slight tremble in her hand when Jillian reached for her coffee. She was working up to something, and Devon tried not to imagine what it might be. Without warning, the memory of Jillian’s voice, scared and alone in the face of the military investigators, surfaced in Devon’s mind. A pang hit her stomach. It’s just residual bullshit. Don’t read anything into it. She concentrated on her oatmeal, feeling Jillian’s obvious internal struggle.

“Listen...” Jillian finally began as Devon finished her last bite. “I wanted to apologize for the last couple of days. I’ve behaved like an ass.”

Devon waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, really.” There was a long pause. Devon watched her closely. “I am sorry.” Now Jillian’s eyes revealed deep levels of sadness and regret that said she wasn’t talking about the flirting anymore. She was apologizing for her part in Devon’s pain. The sincerity reminded Devon that Jill had lost a great deal as well.

She leaned forward, returning the sentiment. “We should give each other a break.” They had a lot of past ground to cover but now wasn’t the time. Devon decided to let Jill off the hook, at least for the moment. “This is kinda crazy for us both.”

A small smile lifted the corner of Jillian’s mouth. “Thanks for that.”

“So,” Devon said wryly, “of all the places in the world, how did you end up here? I can’t believe we’re both cops in Florida. Unbelievable.”

Jillian sighed. “After my mom died, my father became even more bitter and hateful. He apparently only allowed me back into his house because of her. One night, during one of his drunken rages, he came after me. He was screaming at me, calling me a filthy queer. When he got into my face, I warned him to leave me alone. But he raised his fist like he was going to hit me. I ducked and he missed. I realized that we were on a collision course that was gonna end very badly. I had to do something. A friend of mine from college was down here and said they were hiring officers. That was about nine years ago.”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” Devon said. Jillian nodded, a thank you in her eyes.

“Anyway, after losing my mom, the army bouncing me for being gay...and...” Sorrow transformed her features. “Well, you know...”

Say it, the voice in Devon’s head urged.

There was a long pause before Jill finally looked at her. “Us.” Somehow her acknowledgement of their past was important. At least Devon knew she didn’t just flip the switch and move on to someone else.

She sipped her coffee and watched Devon over the rim. “I needed to start fresh. More than that, I needed to succeed at something. When I came here, I put every ounce of energy into being the best cop I could be. I needed to get some focus and discipline in my life, so I took Aikido. SWAT was the next goal on my list. I enjoy the challenge.” She paused. “Now here we are.”

“Here we are,” Devon echoed. Once again, she marveled at the parallels in their lives. An old affinity for Jillian swept over her like a warm ocean breeze.

“Have dinner with me,” Jillian said simply.

Devon sat back in her chair and took a deep breath. “Jill, I don’t know—”

“Please. Just dinner. Like I said, I know I’ve been acting out this week, but I really want to talk to you. I feel like we’ve got so much to say to each other, but I’ll understand if you don’t want to.” She bit her bottom lip and looked apprehensively at Devon, waiting for an answer.

“Just dinner,” Devon relented, certain that this was a bad idea.

Jillian squeezed her arm and a dazzling smile lit up her face. The one Devon never could resist. And that was exactly the problem. Jillian always skirted around the issues with disarming beauty and charisma. What Devon needed was clarity and answers.

“Anything you say,” Jillian said hopefully. “Tonight?”

“No.” Devon gently removed her arm from Jillian’s grasp and stood, purposefully putting distance between them. The sparkle in Jill’s eyes dulled with disappointment. Devon picked up her coffee and shoved her other hand in her pocket to occupy them while she bolstered her resolve. “Tomorrow.”

Devon’s cell phone rang unexpectedly. She jumped and nearly spilled the coffee on her shirt. When she plucked it from her waistband, Mac’s number on the face made her hesitate. The thought of talking to Mac with Jillian sitting there felt odd. The phone rang again in her hand.

Jillian got up and backed away from the table. “I’ll let you take your call. See you in a few minutes.”

Devon flipped open her phone. “Hello?”

“Hi. I took a chance I’d catch you before class started,” Mac said cheerfully.

Devon had to smile at the sound of her friend’s voice. “I was just grabbing some breakfast. We start in a little while.”

“How’s the school going?”

“Fine. Am I missing anything good back there?”

Mac pressed, “Fine? That’s all you have to say, Miss I-eat-andbreathe SWAT? I set aside fifteen minutes for this call figuring I’d have to cut you off with all that you’d be telling me. What gives?”

Devon sighed. “Nothing, just tired.” Her eyes tracked to Jillian pouring more coffee into a paper cup and then pushing through the doors of the cafeteria.

“So, what about your mission? Did you find anything out about T.J.?”

“Uh...yeah, a little.”

“Like what?"“

Devon mentally scrambled trying to figure out what to say. She felt like she was being disloyal, but at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to discuss Jillian with Mac. Not until she got more of a sense of Jillian’s motivations. The contrite demeanor this morning led Devon to hope that perhaps Jill had grown up enough to at least consider other’s feelings, and that was progress. But the flirtatious player was still alive and well in Jillian and Devon felt the need to protect her friend—and herself. After their dinner she’d know what to do.

“It’ll keep, Mac. I’ll tell you later.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Mac sounded concerned.

“Yeah, sorry. There’s just a lot going on this week.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll talk about it when you get back.”

Devon closed her eyes and said a silent thank-you that Mac didn’t press.

“Oh, I saw Jessie the other day at the station. She said to say hello. I got the feeling that she thought she’d hear from you this week?”

Jessie. With everything going on over the last few days Devon hadn’t even thought to call her. That’s not to say that she hadn’t been thinking about Jessie, but it was confusing and—well— embarrassing to have her feelings for Jillian mixed up in her new attraction to Jessie. She realized now that she’d been avoiding talking to Jessie for that reason. Devon rubbed her eyes and kicked herself for the blunder. “Uh, I told her we’d chat when I got back into town.” That was the truth, but in light of developments with Jill, it felt like an unconvincing excuse. She fervently hoped Mac couldn’t hear the vacillation in her voice.

“She’d probably like to hear how things are going. I know you, Dev. You like her, so quit agonizing over it. Go with your gut. She’s a nice girl, pretty as hell, and inexplicably she likes you.” She knew Mac was teasing her, trying to make her smile. “Try not to blow it with this one, okay?”

Startled by the statement, Devon protested, “I told you I hardly know her.”

“Yeah, right.” Mac laughed out loud and Devon couldn’t help but laugh with her. Mac knew her better than anybody. She glanced at the clock on the wall, thinking she might take a chance and dial Jessie, then reconsidered. It was too early, especially if Jessie worked last night.

“…on Friday. I need a change of scenery.”

Devon was only half listening; her mind on calling Jessie. “What about Friday?”

“Pay attention. I said let’s go out Friday in Orlando.”

Devon absently grunted in agreement.

“I’ve lost you.” Mac laughed. “So, call the pretty girl, and then get back with me about Friday,” she instructed before hanging up.

Devon made a mental note to call Jessie on their lunch break. The fact that Jessie had asked Mac about her was a very good sign. She hoped they had more than one day off in common this weekend to spend some quality time together, or at least that a dinner date could be extended with dancing or maybe a walk on the beach afterward. The thought of having her arms around Jessie in either setting made her smile. Two more days. Kicking her feet onto the next chair, she closed her eyes and conjured up a vivid image of Jessie’s smoldering green eyes shining in the moonlight just before their kiss. That delicious thought brought another smile to her face. With all the drama of Jillian’s reappearance, it felt good to remember how Jessie made her feel. Now that she’d reminded herself about the life she had in Tampa, dinner with Jillian didn’t seem quite as daunting as it had a few minutes before.

Her phone rang again. Devon’s heart raced, for a moment hopeful it might be Jessie. She looked down at the caller ID and fought a wave of disappointment. “Kelsey, what’s up?”

“Morning, hot shot. Do you have a minute?”

Devon checked the clock again. Seven-forty. “Yeah. I’ve got about twenty minutes before we start. Did you come up with something?”

“Yep. I actually think we’ve made good progress so far this week. First thing’s first, though. The criminal history on our guy indicates he’s the same one you had a run-in with the other night. It also shows he’s a recently released inmate from the state prison up in Starke. He did a three-year stint on an aggravated battery charge. I’m still waiting on some out-of-state background information, but so far none of the arrests are from Tampa. That certainly precludes you from being the arresting officer, unless you were a cop somewhere else that I don’t know about? You wanna tell me what I’m supposed to be looking for?”

“Like I said, I’m not even sure, Kelsey. When you get the background info that will probably answer some questions. I knew a guy back in my army days named Honeycutt. Right now I just want to know if this guy has any connection.”

“What’s the other Honeycutt’s name?” Devon heard Kelsey shuffling papers.

“Martin. Martin Honeycutt.”

“I’ll check it out, Dev. Oh, and I went by the area on Broadway.

I found four dark-colored Taurus sedans close by and that gave me a few possible suspects. One might match the description of our boy who Miami says dropped off the cars at the dock. The witness down there was able to help them draw a good composite of the suspect.”

“Good.” Devon was trying to imagine how to put the pieces of the puzzle into place. “So, you think they’re selling some locally and transporting others to places like Miami for shipment overseas? Is that normal? I thought that guys like this only operated in one arena.” She thought about a search warrant that the team executed with another detective last year. That shop was exclusively shipping stolen parts to locations like Mexico, Puerto Rico and South America—places with less oversight than North American or European markets. Other than that, kids joyriding or criminals using them in local crimes stole the vast majority of cars. Most vehicles were recovered within a few days.

“Something weird is going on." Kelsey sounded thoughtful. “I don’t know whether there are two operations in close proximity to each other or what. I’m still working it out.”

“Maybe someone in Roy’s shop is doing a little freelance work on the side.”

“Good point. Also, now that we know your guy is probably involved somehow, I’m running out to the jail this morning to talk with him.”

“Let me know how that turns out. I’ve got a feeling this goes much deeper than we imagine.”

“That’s it, my friend, I’ll call you tonight or tomorrow at the latest.” Kelsey rang off.

Several of her classmates were now milling around the cafeteria, getting a quick bite before the start of the day. Devon headed back out to the Jeep to stow her cell phone and grab a towel. Time to shift gears and get her head back in the game.

Chapter Ten

DEVON STOOD IN the parking lot of the hotel, nervously shifting from foot to foot, wondering for the tenth time why she had agreed to go out with Jillian. Training was going well and she was glad that she and Jill had found a comfortable space to coexist, but dinner? She sighed. Maybe that was pushing it. Could she cancel? Should she? The sound of a car interrupted her inner turmoil. A blue convertible BMW roadster cut across the lot in her direction and jerked to a stop at the curb.

Jillian smiled appreciatively at her. “You always did clean up well.”

Devon ran a hand through her hair, just to fill the awkward seconds. She had no idea what the proper response was. “Thanks.” She held up her keys and gave Jillian a questioning look.

“Get in.” Jill patted the tan leather seat next to her. “It only makes sense that I drive, since I live here and know where we’re going, right?”

“True.” Devon dropped into the passenger seat, more than a little unsettled knowing she was now at Jillian’s mercy for the evening. She was equally flustered by the realization deep inside that she didn’t mind. The two-seater car had a more intimate feel than Devon’s bulky Jeep. Jillian flashed a brilliant smile as Devon settled in. She shoved the car into first gear and swung a tight circle, exiting the lot the way she’d entered.

Their dinner destination was a quiet little bistro owned by a couple that Jillian had met years before, not long after moving to Orlando. Delectably inviting aromas beckoned from within as Devon held the ornate wooden door for Jillian. Skylights and the soft amber glow of wall sconces complemented the natural warmth of the wood furniture and rich cherry plank flooring. A wall of windows at the rear provided a spectacular view of a pristine lake reflecting the twilight sky. The restaurant was elegantly casual, and Devon was glad she had packed one dress shirt.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jillian followed Devon’s appreciative gaze around the dining room.

Devon nodded, concentrating on the decor rather than Jillian’s body-glove black dress that was maddeningly distracting. Not to mention that her hair was down and flowing gracefully over her shoulders in rich coppery waves. Devon wondered if Jillian even realized how much she oozed sexuality. Probably not. For Jillian, Devon recalled, it was as natural as breathing. She cleared her throat and forced her eyes not to stray from Jill’s face. “Very.”

“Jill, it’s been too long.” A leggy brunette moved from behind the hostess stand and glided past Devon to wrap Jillian in a tight hug.

“Sorry, honey. You know it’s not intentional.” Jillian kissed her cheek.

“Oh, yes. We know you’re a busy woman.” Her tone was affectionate and without censure. She turned to consider Devon with dark, probing eyes. “And I see you still have great taste, Jill.” Devon felt like she was being examined under a microscope. Somewhere under the surface pleasantries, the woman’s expression carried a hint of protectiveness. She was sizing Devon up, looking for a reason to defend her friend, and that loyalty made Devon like her.

Jillian was grinning when Devon looked in her direction. “Lorraine, this is Devon. She’s an old...friend.”

Is that what we are? Devon’s inner voice asked. Friends?

Lorraine extended her hand with a congenial smile. “Welcome Devon. It’s very nice to meet you.” To Jill she said, “Your usual table is ready, darlin’. This way, please.” She motioned toward the interior of the dining room and Jillian started across the space, obviously knowing her way to the table for two overlooking the water.

Jillian ordered a bottle of wine and Lorraine nodded. “I’ll be right back with some appetizers and bread.”

“She didn’t bring menus,” Devon said.

“They don’t have menus. Lorraine and Shelly want each diner to have a unique experience. They offer seasonal dishes, with a variety. Shelly’s the executive chef. She’ll be out shortly to tell us about tonight’s menu and the specials. It’s a nice personal touch.” Lorraine placed a basket of freshly baked bread in the middle of the table along with a sample of appetizers. She uncorked the wine and poured them each a glass. Just then, a slender woman wearing a white chef’s coat and matching cap swept past her toward Jillian.

“Howdy, woman!”

Jillian jumped to her feet and into the outstretched arms. “Shelly, it’s so good to see you.”

As Devon watched Jillian interact with her friends, she thought about her own life back in Tampa, one that Jillian knew nothing about. For ten years they had each built independent lives. It was odd to think that the proprietors of this restaurant might know Jill better than she did. Once again she was struck by the reality of the distance between them. After all they’d been to each other, they were now, in effect, strangers with a common past.

“Devon, this is Shelly, Lorraine’s partner and resident culinary genius.”

Lorraine gave them a rundown of the menu and both women ordered the special of the day. A short time later, she returned with plates of tender beef filets paired with jumbo grilled shrimp prepared with a tangy citrus marinade and finished with a chilled mango salsa and side of fresh vegetables. As they ate, Devon was aware of Jillian’s scrutiny.

“The school is great. I’m learning a lot.” Devon tried to keep the conversation light and on neutral ground.

“You have a natural talent. Those rappelling scenarios were difficult and you made them look easy.” She sipped her wine and her eyes held Devon’s, full of intrigue. “That rope rescue...” Jillian let the rest of her thought dangle, just like the rappel lines swaying between them in the air earlier that day.

Devon didn’t need any reminder. Today’s curriculum had been the most challenging and physical yet. Rappelling and rope rescues tested the skill and daring of any SWAT officer, but for Devon it was the epitome of thrill ever since her first army solo drop. The final exercise of the afternoon had required that she and Jillian work in a more intimate setting than previously that week. Jillian played the role of stranded victim in danger. Devon was the officer who scaled the wall to reach her. They were clipped together at the waist while Devon executed the rescue, her legs wrapped around Jill’s torso until they safely touched ground. The full body contact was an unnerving reminder of the physical attraction that had always burned between them, requiring every ounce of concentration to get through the exercise. Jillian’s expression left no doubt that Devon wasn’t alone in the struggle. Afterward, when they set a time to meet for dinner, something familiar and inviting in the way Jillian had looked at her made Devon consider cancelling the evening altogether. But years of wondering about Jill’s veracity and the sudden end of their relationship won out. She had hoped for an honest discussion and explanation from Jillian, instead of the heated stare she was getting right now.

Devon broke the eye contact first, digging her napkin off her lap and wiping her mouth. Her mind scrambled to figure out what she was supposed to say or do. What the hell was happening between them anyway? Could they ever just be friends? She was beginning to seriously doubt that. She reached for the safety of her water glass, happy to see Lorraine approaching.

“How is your dinner, ladies?”

“Wonderful, honey,” Jillian said. Devon nodded and took another bite of her food.

When they were alone again, Jillian asked, “We’ve already covered my road to Florida. What about you? When did you get to Tampa?”

Devon was grateful to Jillian for steering the subject away from the emotions of the day and trying to lighten the mood. “I’ve been out of the military ten years. I joined the police department soon after.” She pushed her empty plate away. “It was a good move for me.”

“I can tell. You look really great.” Jillian blushed and averted her eyes.

“You, too.” Devon picked up her wine glass to keep from taking Jillian’s hand. How the hell did they fall right back into this emotional time warp? Idle chatter was obviously not going to happen, at least not until they covered whatever they both needed. But the thought of opening up their past was intimidating to say the least. More like touching a match to a pool of gasoline. Devon thought about calling it a night until Jillian raised her eyes to meet Devon’s again with that old vulnerable sincerity she hid so well from the world.

Leaving was no longer an option.

Lorraine arrived again to take their plates, providing a welcome interruption. Devon breathed deeply to clear her mind while Jillian and Lorraine chatted about their last camping trip. Their host invited them to move to a table on the deck for after-dinner drinks.

Four café tables were spaced along the deck affording an unobstructed view of the water, and with the exception of a few sea gulls perched on the railing, they were alone in the quiet of the evening. Surviving the emotionally charged dinner was an accomplishment and Devon inwardly congratulated herself, but just as quickly she noted that the night was far from over. She sensed that they both needed to find a way to get beyond their past.

“Salud,” Jillian raised her glass of port, smiling at Devon. The moonlight shimmered in Jill’s hair in golden highlights and her features were soft in the flickering light of the candle between them. When Devon raised the tulip-shaped cordials glass with her, Jillian touched her other hand lightly where it rested on the table. “You are more beautiful than I remembered,” she said sincerely.

The telltale sparkle in her eyes drew Devon toward their swirling passion and incredibly, she realized that they both were leaning in. Slowly, as though afraid to disturb the air around them they continued until their lips met. The kiss was so delicate that Devon wondered if she imagined it, but the tingling of her lips was very real when she pulled away. She got up with her glass in hand and retreated to the railing, her back to Jillian. Surely, somewhere in the inky blackness of the water her control was waiting to be retrieved.

She felt Jillian at her left shoulder but didn’t move. Jillian angled her head as if trying to see Devon’s face and stared at her profile.

“I know this is crazy,” Jillian said. Devon’s jaw muscle worked as she continued to examine the water. Jillian lightly touched her forearm and sighed. “I’ve had memories of Boston non-stop this week.”

Devon tried to breathe. She couldn’t think clearly with Jillian so close. Her body was reacting, and she needed to get control or she would lose it completely. She felt the heat radiating from Jillian’s skin and downed her port in a large gulp. That was a mistake because her arm brushed the side of Jillian’s breast as she brought the glass back down. A second later she was staring into those beautiful dark eyes, drawn to the amazing flecks of gold that danced within them.

Dragging her eyes away from Jillian’s, hoping to redirect her thoughts, Devon instead found herself taking in every inch of the painfully familiar sculpted body. Her own body hummed with anticipation and the excitement she knew Jillian’s touch would ignite. It would be so easy to give in to the physical sensations. Isn’t that what she wished for countless times all those years ago? Just one more night? Jillian’s words were spiraling through her head, twisting and confusing, adding fuel to the mix.

Stop this! Devon’s rational mind screamed, but she remained frozen in place. Her brain frantically searched for coherent thought inside the whirlwind of sensations assaulting her body and mind. She hated the power Jillian still exerted over her; regardless of the fact that this was all wrong. Devon knew that as certainly as she knew her own name, but the wine was blurring her reasoning thoughts, feeding the physical craving as she stared at the woman she once loved. She had to think.

They could share this night; a night that would no doubt be filled with physical pleasure and Devon knew all too well how it felt to make love with Jillian. That much was certain, but what about afterward? Devon knew that she needed more than one night. Yes. Suddenly, the realization hit her with stunning clarity. What she needed was more than physical. She longed for a soul altering, all consuming connection with another woman who felt the same at any cost. Jessie’s smile flashed through her mind. She drew a deep breath and stepped back. “Jill, I can’t do this.”

“God, I’m sorry.” Jillian slumped against the railing searching Devon’s face for an answer. She looked as exposed and undone as Devon felt. “What just happened?”

Devon’s temper flared out of nowhere. Painful anger that had built up but was contained in some kind of pressure cooker all these years. Anger at Jillian for leaving her, at the insanity of the universe for taking Alex, and at herself here and now, for almost giving in and screwing up the chance for a real future. What the fuck is wrong with you? Her damning inner voice raged. The outward release was hurled at Jillian.

“What happened is that we were going to fall back on the only connection we ever really had.” She pinned Jillian with a laser stare. “And then you would cut and run again without taking any responsibility.”

“That’s not fair,” Jillian shot back. “I did take responsibility.”

Devon lifted a shoulder. She started to take a sip from her glass only to realize it was empty.

“You think all we ever had was physical?” Jillian sounded incredulous.

“It’s the only thing we were ever good at. When it got down to the real emotion beneath the sex, we imploded.”

“I loved you.”

“Leaving is a funny way of showing it.”

Jillian shook her head. “It’s always so cut and dried with you, isn’t it, Devon? Either black or white, never any gray areas in between. You haven’t changed at all.”

“You could have contacted me. I’m not talking about you leaving the army, Jillian. I understand that. But what about us? You hauled ass and left me to fend for myself. Thanks for that, by the way.” She tossed the last shot sarcastically.

“What was I supposed to do? Stick around and try to be your civilian girlfriend? Be serious. That would have made your life impossible, believe me. Your career would have suffered. You might even have gotten thrown out of the army altogether. I couldn’t take that chance. The way I chose to go was better.”

“Better for who? You?” Devon challenged. “My career? You’re joking, right? You made me love you and then when it got difficult, you left without an explanation. I had to figure it all out on my own. And when I finally thought I found the way to get over you…found somebody who cared…” She stopped and focused past Jillian across the water as her memories rushed over the protective dam she kept around her heart. “There is so much you don’t know,” Devon said almost to herself, searching the dark lagoon for answers that would never materialize.

“Then tell me,” Jillian urged.

They sat again, neither one looking up or speaking when Lorraine reappeared with the bottle of port. She deposited it on the table and quietly disappeared back inside after Jillian merely nodded thanks in her direction.

Devon struggled to figure out what to say, or more accurately, what she wanted to tell. The end for her and Jillian was the beginning of the rest, making it the logical place to start. “Honeycutt never intended to honor his boss’s agreement to leave me alone. After you left, everything with CID died down. Once I got to D.C., my career was exceeding my wildest expectations. I loved my job. I loved the army.”

Jillian smiled. “I know you did.”

“My life and career moved forward. I did some proactive work on targeting threats using the bearings of our fixes for prevention. That got me transferred to a unit in the Middle East. The Beirut command was actually a step up, even though it was a field assignment. The team was elite and we were doing real work.” She stopped and reflected a moment, remembering the first day she met her team. That was also the day she’d met Mac.

“I didn’t know you were in Beirut,” Jillian said. Then her mouth twisted as though a distasteful thought hit her. “The bombings. You weren’t...” Realization dawned as she looked at Devon.

Devon nodded and took a sip from her glass.

“Can you tell me about it?” Jillian asked carefully.

Devon knew what she meant. Jillian didn’t want to know about the intelligence work, she wanted to know about the bombing. Usually, when people found out, their questions were full of morbid curiosity, a fascination with unimaginable horror. She supposed it was the same thing that made people stare at a fiery crash on the highway. Try as she might, Devon couldn’t see any of that in Jillian right now. Her expression was filled with sincere compassion and gentle encouragement.

She refilled her glass and turned tormented eyes to Jillian. “It was like being in hell. After the bombs exploded, it was chaos. Nothing but broken bodies, twisted metal, piles of rubble and flames.” Visions of the devastation crawled to life in her mind as she spoke. Horrific apparitions rising out of the dark vestiges that still clung to the terror of that day. Beads of cold sweat formed on her brow and her heart raced, the pounding in her head topping off the nightmarish cacophony of explosions, the grinding of heavy rescue equipment, and cries for help she remembered as though it was yesterday. “I can’t even begin to describe it.” And I don’t want to. “There was nothing to do but keep digging. We saved as many as we could.” She left out any reference to Alexandra, somehow unable to bring herself to speak of Alex’s death. That, at least was one horror that Devon could not escape her own culpability by blaming Jillian.

“Did you...” She visually assessed Devon’s body as though looking for answers to the unfinished question. “Were you hurt? I wondered about the scar on your leg.”

“I was hit in the arm and leg. Bullets from a group of fighters right after we found—” she clamped her jaw shut, knowing Jillian was aware that she was holding back. One thing Jill could always do was read her.

“Oh, God.” Jillian covered her mouth with her hand, looking horrified.

“Anyway, they shipped me back stateside.” She fought against the tide of bitter memories, instead focusing on getting the rest of the words out. “By then Honeycutt was running the show in criminal investigations. Apparently he never got over the fact that they didn’t make a case on both of us. One day, about a year after my rehab, they arrested me at work.”

“Jesus. Dev, I—”

Devon held up a hand to silence her. She’d come this far and she had to finish.

“I was locked up and interrogated for three days. He used edited versions of your questioning to get to me, making it sound as though you caved in and gave me up to save yourself. Your leaving was painful, but it was only the start. That next couple of years nearly broke me, Jill.” She finished in a whisper, watching tears overflow Jillian’s lashes to slide slowly down her face.

The silence between them grew and hung like an emotional fog in the air. Strangely, Devon felt empty now, as though the tale had drained her and purged the toxic waste of angry blame from her cells. She had always viewed Jillian’s leaving as the catalyst that set the rest of the nightmares in motion. Now she didn’t know what she thought, so she asked the only question that mattered to her heart.

“Why did you leave me?”

Jillian reached across the table to capture Devon’s hand, as if the connection grounded her. “The truth is, I was afraid.” At the flash of indignant anger in Devon’s eyes she qualified, “Not the way you think.” She gripped Devon’s hand tighter and insisted, “I was afraid if I stayed they would hurt you. I thought I protected you. How could you think otherwise?”

“How? I had no one Jillian. Only you. Then one day, you left without an explanation, like we never even mattered. And given your reputation, what else was I supposed to think?”

Pain registered in Jillian’s eyes as Devon’s words hit their mark. Her gaze traveled across the water beyond, momentarily lost in thought. When she refocused on Devon, new tears threatened. “I was young and scared just like you. That guy, Honeycutt, told me they were gonna sentence me to time at Leavenworth. Five years. I was terrified.” She wiped away a tear that escaped, and the agony in her eyes caused an ache deep in Devon’s chest.

Jillian blew out a deep breath and leveled an intense stare at Devon. “But, as scared as I was for myself, I couldn’t let them hurt you. They wanted a statement. So, I admitted my proclivity but I told them that you and I were nothing more than friends. My world shattered when I signed that paper. How could I contact you after that? I had to maintain the lie for your own good. And you’re right, given my reputation it was an easy sell, even for you.” Jillian’s voice was bitter. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “I convinced myself you would be better off. I truly thought I protected you. I’ve clung to that belief all of these years, thinking I shouldered the burden and now I find out...what you...endured.”

The grip on Devon’s hand was nearly as painful as the revelation of Jillian’s sacrifice. They were both reliving the heartbreak at this moment, and somehow sharing that was validating.

“You did the best you could,” Devon said quietly, blinking back her own tears. “I was so busy being angry and blaming you for everything else that happened, I couldn’t see it from your point of view.” She forced a pained smile at Jillian.

“Maybe if I had told you—”

Devon shook her head. “No. We both know that I wouldn’t have stopped seeing you, regardless of the consequences. If you hadn’t taken the heat, Honeycutt would have had us both in Boston.”

Jillian squeezed Devon’s hand. “You have to know it killed me to leave you.” Her eyes searched Devon’s, begging for understanding. “I’m so sorry.” It came out so softly that Devon almost missed it.

A ghost of a smile touched the corner of Devon’s lips, even as her chest ached. Once again Jillian had laid bare the wounds of her heart. She could only nod.

Jillian wiped away a tear and stared past Devon for several minutes. Sadness coated her voice when she finally spoke. “So, now what?”

“Jill, I can’t. We can’t.” A silence fell between them.

Jillian shifted in her seat. “Sometimes it’s impossible to go back. We’ve both built separate lives and I never even asked you, do you have a girlfriend?”

“It’s not because there’s someone else. Not exactly. Some people just aren’t good for each other.” Jillian started to protest but Devon stopped her. “Jill, the truth is that attraction was never our problem, we both know that.” She smiled sadly. “But I know my heart would never feel safe with you.”

Jillian winced as though the words stung.

“I would always be waiting for you to run again.” Devon sighed heavily. “And, I’m definitely not the same person I used to be—except for my faults.” She bit her bottom lip. “I think we both know all we would ever have is tonight. You once told me to move on. I think that’s what we both need to do.”

They rode back to the hotel mostly in silence, each one lost in thought. Jillian pulled into a parking space and left the car idling. Devon sat there watching Jill in her peripheral vision and wished she knew what to say. She had spent so long viewing Jillian through a prism of pain, it was going to take some time to adjust to this new perspective. She met Jill’s eyes. “About earlier—”

“Don’t.” Jillian shook her head. “We’ll just chalk up that moment to our past and fond memories of a lost time.” She bit her lip and let out a short laugh. “You know what’s really ironic? I was at this party recently and for the first time in forever I—I thought—” She sighed and swept the hair away from her face the way she did when something frustrated her. “It doesn’t matter. Then you show up and our past smacks me in the face, dredging up all of this old emotion. Just when I—”

“When you what?”

“I actually met a woman who...” She glanced away and shifted nervously. “I do some side security work for the Orlando Force women’s basketball team. The party was a league gig. The woman I met was a cousin of one of the players. I’ve been kicking myself for not getting her number.”

“Would you want to call her?” Devon watched Jillian carefully, surprised by the revelation. Their relationship aside, this was the first time she’d ever known Jill to be concerned about anything more than casual. And that was very good because the mystery woman was definitely Mac. Her cousin had just signed a contract with San Francisco.

Jillian looked pensive. “What I might want makes no difference. I don’t think I’ll ever see her again.”

“You never know.” Devon grinned. Jillian’s reaction told her a lot. The woman at the party had gotten her attention in more than a physical way. Her mission for Mac would be successful after all. She said a silent thank you to the heavens that she and Jillian had acted rationally this evening.

“Thank you for having dinner with me. And for not slapping me back at the restaurant.”

They both laughed and Devon felt her old anger melting away. “Let’s just say goodnight, okay?”

Jillian nodded.

Devon thought about how they were both changed by their experiences. Some thrust upon them painfully and other choices they’d made willingly. In the end it didn’t matter which, only that they had irrevocably altered the course of their lives. Now Devon knew exactly what she wanted. Jessie’s laughter rang in her head and she smiled in spite of herself. She was feeling good about the fact that for once, she was moving toward something good in her life, instead of running away.

Jillian stared at some distant point, deep in thought.

“See you in the morning.” Devon walked away, hoping that now it might be possible for both of them to find happiness.

Chapter Eleven

FRIDAY NIGHT DEVON climbed out of her Jeep and checked the parking lot for Mac’s truck. The phone call to Jessie had lasted longer than she’d anticipated, and now she was about fifteen minutes late in meeting her friend for drinks. Not that she was really worried. She was certain that Mac would find plenty of entertainment all on her own. Rendezvous was supposed to be Orlando’s most popular lesbian bar and judging from the overflowing lot, the place appeared to be full of women. Devon couldn’t have cared less. The only woman she wanted to see was back in Tampa, and she would have ditched anyone else for the chance to see Jessie tonight. But she would never break her word to Mac.

She pulled open the front door to enter the club, thankful for the welcoming blast of cold air in her face. Although it was nearly nine o’clock, the temperature was still in the eighties with the humidity hovering around seventy percent, unseasonably warm even for springtime in Florida. The short walk from the parking lot had made her break out into a sweat, and her black t-shirt clung to her skin. Joan Jett’s rock 'n’ roll, "Do You Wanna Touch Me There?" song, pounded through the speakers. The refrain always made her chuckle, and she felt good as she moved toward the bar to the heavy rhythm of the music.

The bartender immediately responded to Devon’s drink order and delivered a cold beer with a come-on smile that was openly seductive. She was cute and Devon bet her delivery style earned her an above-average tip total every night. “You sure you only need that beer, good looking?”

Devon slid the bill toward her with a polite smile. “Yeah, the beer’s fine, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” The server moved away to the next customer.

Devon picked up her beer, already scanning the interior for a sign of Mac and wishing that Jessie could be with her. She checked out the dance floor and envisioned herself and Jessie moving smoothly together to the music. Soon. She drank from her beer, thankful that the bizarre week was over and eager to find her friend. It didn’t take long to spot Mac on the other side of the bar, and she laughed at the sight of her already up close and personal with someone. Mac was standing next to a seated woman, Devon's view was blocked as she approached, but she’d seen enough of Mac’s women to imagine it'd be the most beautiful woman in the bar. She carried her beer over to say hello, only to be stopped in her tracks when the woman threw back her head, laughing at whatever Mac had just said.

Mac spotted her and waved, smiling broadly as her companion spoke directly into her ear. The woman Mac had her arm around and was obviously planning on spending time with this evening was none other than Jillian Gray. Damn. The last thing Devon wanted to do was to watch these two in the midst of an overt seduction ritual. Plus, she had no idea how Mac was going to react when she found out that T.J. was actually Jillian, and she hadn’t gotten around to telling Jill that she knew Mac, either. Double damn. Devon groaned out loud and forced a smile in Mac’s direction. Escape was not an option now.

Mac met her halfway and gave her a big squeeze. “I was beginning to wonder if you were still coming.”

Devon tried to hide the rising tension by holding a smile that she hoped seemed natural.

Mac pulled back to study her. “You all right?” She tilted her head and waited a beat. Then she remembered her companion. “Oh, Dev, I want you to meet someone. You’ll never believe who’s here tonight.” She grasped Devon’s elbow and pulled her toward the woman seated at the bar. The barstool swiveled, bringing Jillian and Devon face to face. Mac dropped an arm casually on Devon’s shoulder. “Jill, this is my best friend, Devon.” She gave Devon a squeeze. “Can you believe the luck? It’s T.J. Well, Jill actually.” Devon and Jillian stared silently at one another with Mac’s head bouncing side to side between them, her bright smile fading in obvious bewilderment. She studied Devon carefully. Her brow furrowed in thought and slowly the light came on as the truth of the situation hit her. Mac narrowed her eyes, speaking very slowly, as if her words were navigating a minefield. “Jill. This is Jillian?” She cast a sidelong glance at her companion before returning her quizzical look to Devon. “The Jillian?”

Devon nodded, feeling extremely uncomfortable as an awkward silence enveloped them. Mac turned to Jillian, who was suddenly engrossed in the label on her beer bottle. Devon wished somebody would say something because the tension was killing her. As the reality sank in, Mac slumped back onto the barstool and motioned to the bartender. “Whiskey. Make it a double.”

The music shifted to some popular dance mix and a roar went up from the revelers on the dance floor behind them. When Mac didn’t speak for long moments, Devon’s anxiety grew. She stole a quick glance in Jillian’s direction, but Jill wouldn’t look up. Devon touched her arm. “Could you give us a minute?”

“I’ll...uh...find the ladies room.” Jillian melted into the crowd.

“You could have told me, ya know.” Mac’s focus remained on the surface of the bar.

“I was gonna tell you all about this when I got back home,” Devon tried to explain. When Mac didn’t respond, she looked past her, watching Jillian make her way across the bar.

After a long silence, Devon pulled a stool close to Mac’s and sat. “What are you thinkin’?”

Mac stared pensively at the now empty shot glass. She pushed it around on the bar a few more times then laughed. “Judging from the fact that you two didn’t fall over from shock at this meeting, I’m guessing that you’ve seen each other this week. She was at the class, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah. She was one of the instructors.”

“I don’t even know what to think, to tell you the truth.”

“I know.”

“Since you know, why don’t you enlighten me?” Mac’s tone was flat and the disappointment in her eyes made Devon feel sick inside.

“This looks bad from your perspective, I get that. I’m a total ass for not telling you, but honestly, I was going to talk to you about it all as soon as I got back.”

“Did you know the entire time?”

“No. Not until after I’d gotten here. Believe me, Jillian’s appearance was a shock. For both of us.”

“And here I thought when I called you the other day that you were all brain-dead over Jessie. Couldn’t have been more wrong, could I?”

“You weren’t wrong.” She grasped Mac’s arm and waited for Mac to look at her again. “Listen to me. I was all frazzled over Jessie—still am, for the record.” She let that fact sink in. Mac signaled for another shot as Devon continued. “So, I’m thinking about how to ask her out, trying to get my head right for this school, sizing up my classmates, wondering who might know this woman you met. T.J. Then Jillian appears out of nowhere. It was like somebody lobbed a grenade into my world. That’s why I didn’t call Jessie and why I wasn’t chatty with you on the phone. How the hell was I supposed to know how to handle that?” She downed the rest of her beer and set the empty on the bar.

Mac offered no answer to the question.

The bartender appeared and Devon pointed to her bottle, then turned back to Mac. “There’s only one question really on your mind. I know it would be for me. So, let me settle this for you. Jill and I covered a lot of ground this week, there’s loads of baggage between us, as you know. But nothing else happened, and nothing else will for many reasons—not the least of which is that Jillian is interested in you.”

The corner of Mac’s mouth twitched with the hint of a grin.

Devon cocked her head to look her friend directly in the eye. “It’s true. Ask her if you want. Better yet, spend some time getting to know her better. You’ll see. As far as you and I? Our friendship is far too valuable than for me to risk it on some roll in the hay for nostalgia’s sake. So, put that out of your mind, okay?”

Mac frowned and rested her chin on her fist.

“Now what are you thinking?” Devon poked her lightly.

“I was thinking that only jackasses sleep with their best friend’s ex.”

“Now, don’t do that to yourself.”

“Why not? This is what I get for my lack of self-control. I see a beautiful woman. I go for it. Christ.”

“And how could you have known who she was?”

“What if I hadn’t done it? Would that have made a difference to you this week?” Mac shook her head in disgust. “Dev, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Mac, stop. No. It wouldn’t have mattered. Jillian and I both realize there’s no going back for us. Like you said once, we’re completely different people now. It’s just a really small, fucked up world.”

That made Mac chuckle with her and Devon felt enormously relieved. “Forgetting about Jill’s past, do you regret what happened between you two?”

“No.” Mac answered without hesitation.

“That’s what I figured. You want to know what I think?” Devon caught sight of Jillian making her way back across the bar. She put her hand on Mac’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I do.”

Devon cocked her head toward the woman in question. Jillian was wending her way through the throng of women, and as always, turning heads everywhere she went. “I think you should make your move before someone else does.”

Mac glanced in the direction Devon indicated and grinned when she caught sight of Jill. She was still smiling when she looked back at Devon, “If you’re sure…”

Devon laughed out loud. “Boy, I really had to twist that arm.” She punched Mac in the shoulder.

Mac shifted on her stool as Jillian appeared beside them. She glanced at Devon before turning her attention to Mac. “Everything okay?”

“Yep,” Devon said as she stood. “A-okay. Really.” She looked pointedly at Mac and then winked.

Mac smiled gratefully and then said to Jill, “Excellent.”

Jillian reached across to pick up Mac’s beer from the bar, taking a long pull from the bottle. Mac raised an eyebrow in response, but didn’t move to stop her, evidently amused by Jillian’s audacity. She chuckled when Jill handed back an empty bottle. Devon watched the two of them interact with interest. Mac was clearly charmed and Devon was even more surprised to see that Jillian appeared equally enamored with Mac. She quickly realized that they were oblivious to anything going on around them. Devon cleared her throat. No response. Mac had slipped her arm around Jillian’s waist, pulling her more closely to her. The DJ transitioned to a slow song and Jillian twirled her fingers in the hair that touched the back of Mac’s collar. Devon laughed to herself, recognizing her cue to go.

“So, I’m pretty tired.” She placed her own empty bottle on the bar and stepped away.

“Aww, c’mon, it’s early,” Mac protested. “I want to hear all about the class.”

“Yeah,” Jillian chimed in. “Stay for another.”

“You won’t even know I’m gone.”

“Sorry,” Mac said. “We’ll behave.”

Devon rolled her eyes in response. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer of the company, but I’m beat. We had this freakin’ slave-driving instructor who was kicking our asses all week. I’m heading home.”

“Slave-driver?” Jillian challenged. “I went easy on you, James. I let you win the grappling scenarios to build up your confidence.”

“Oh, you did? I remember it a little differently. I think there was a bit of give and take on both sides.”

“Agreed,” Jill said. The meaning went much deeper than the classroom and they both knew it.

Devon started to pull some money out of her pocket, but Mac stopped her. “Oh, no. I’ve got it. I feel like I’m getting the best end of this deal.” She hugged Devon tightly.

“I hope that’s true, my friend,” Devon said into her ear.

She stepped back and turned to Jillian, still amazed by the fact that she was standing in front of her and even more amazed that she felt at peace. “It was good to see you, Jill. I got more out of this week than you’ll ever know.”

“I think I might have some idea.”

Devon extended her hand and Jill took it, only to pull her in for a quick hug. “Take care, Devon.”

“You, too.” A long missing piece of Devon’s life slipped into place. She dug her keys out of her pocket and spoke quietly. “She’s very important to me.”

Jillian met her eyes. “I know.”

Devon gave a brief nod and headed for the exit, feeling good about the way they’d all left things. Mac dating Jillian would take a little getting used to, but what the hell. That was for her to work out. Devon wasn’t going to stand in their way. Besides, what was wrong with two of the most important women in her life being together? If it made them happy, who was Devon to argue? Walking in long strides to the Jeep, Devon’s thoughts shifted to the drive home, her mind already filled with thoughts of Jessie. She had wanted to race right back to Tampa after class, and only agreed to meet Mac out of loyalty. Now all she really wanted was to get back home to see Jessie. Mac caught up with her just before she reached the Jeep, stopping Devon with a hand on her arm.

“What’s up?” Devon asked.

“Just wanted to make sure we’re good.”

“You know we are,” Devon said as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “I already gave you my advice. She’s worth it. So, go.” She pointed at the club. “Meanwhile, I’m taking a good friend’s advice, too.” When Mac gave her a puzzled look, Devon explained, “I have a pretty girl waiting in Tampa.”

“You do. And I also said don’t blow it this time,” Mac called over the starting of the engine, already backing away from the Jeep toward the club.

“I won’t. Same goes for you,” Devon shouted, pulling out of the parking lot toward the interstate. She watched in her rearview mirror as Mac opened the door of the club, and considered the combination—the two fast-living, free-wheeling players who had never met a pretty woman that they couldn’t conquer. What were the odds they would somehow find each other? The Jillian-Mac combination would either be a perfect fit or a natural disaster. Devon marveled at the craziness of the universe.

She shifted into fourth gear, merging onto the interstate and jumping into the fast lane. Images of Jessie flashed through her mind bringing a silly grin to her face with Lita Ford’s guitar licks blazing from the radio, her voice inviting, “… kiss me deadly…”.Devon drummed on the steering wheel feeling the rush of promise pulsing through her veins as the Jeep rocketed west down the freeway. She snatched her phone off the passenger seat to call Jessie one more time. It rang in her hand and surprised her.

“How did you know I was just thinking about you?” Devon asked.

“I’m clairvoyant.”

“Really?” Jessie only laughed in her ear, making Devon wish she could erase the distance between them. “I’ll have to be careful then, huh?”

“Depends on whether you’re thinking good thoughts or bad thoughts.”

She could hear Jessie smiling. Devon laughed as she returned the playful volley, “Now that depends upon what you consider bad.”

“How was the school?” Jessie dodged, suddenly sounding shy. Devon made a mental note to return to the previous line of thought in the near future. She pictured Jessie sitting cross-legged on a couch twirling locks of her hair with her fingers.

“It was good. I really learned a lot.” Not that she owed Jessie any explanation about Jill—at least not yet—but the subject wasn’t something she wanted to get into right now, and all of her thoughts about the school related to Jillian. Conversations about your former lover were not the best way to impress a new lady. Devon decided to just go for it. “So, about having dinner. I mean, assuming you still want to…” All of the sudden it wasn’t coming out as smoothly as she’d hoped. She drew a deep breath to collect herself.

“Yes, I’d like to have dinner.”

“Good.” Jessie’s answer felt like a lifeline and Devon laughed in nervous relief. “Is tomorrow night too soon?”

“I have to work this weekend.”

“Figures.” Devon mentally ran through her own schedule. “I work Sunday too, then I teach at the academy on Monday, and I’ve got SWAT training on Tuesday. Damn. What about Wednesday? Please say you’re off.”

“Wednesday is great. You want to come here? I know a wonderful place on the water for dinner.”

“Sounds perfect.” Devon’s voice was soft and low.

“See you around seven?”

“Seven it is.”

“Five days is a long time.” Jessie was playful again. “How do I know you won’t forget?”

“Because I’m gonna call you every day.”

“I’d like that. And I also wouldn’t mind if you called to say goodnight.” Jessie’s voice flowed through her like warm honey.

“Then I’ll be sure to do that. Sleep well, Jess.”

“You, too.”

Devon disconnected the call and pumped her fist in the air jubilantly. “Yesss!” She cranked up the radio again, tingling with excitement at the prospect of going out with the one woman who had somehow awakened her inside. She had no explanation for this powerful connection growing between her and Jessie, but she sure as hell was going to see where it led. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

Later, when she finally climbed into bed and relaxed, she replayed parts of the conversation in her mind. On impulse, she picked up the phone and punched in what she hoped would become her most dialed number.

“Hi, are you okay?” Jessie sounded sleepy but concerned.

“Yeah. I just called to say goodnight.”

“Hmmm.” It was a satisfied sound, like a purr, wrapped in a yawn that made Devon feel warm all over. She indulged herself with an image of Jessie lying in her arms surrounded by soft sheets and fluffy pillows. “You’re sweet. Thank you. So, you’re home?”

“Yes, and you’re welcome.”

“Call me tomorrow?” She sounded as though she was dozing again.

“I will. You get some rest.”

“You, too.”

“'Night, Jess.” Devon waited until Jessie hung up and then did the same. Good thoughts or bad thoughts. “Definitely good.” She rolled onto her side and hugged the pillow tightly, slowly drifting off to sleep with the sound of Jessie’s sweet voice in her head.

Chapter Twelve

SUNDAY EVENING, JUST as Devon, Steph and their recruits finished their dinner break, a call came in regarding a possible stolen vehicle that had been dumped and set on fire. As the corporal, Devon didn’t normally ride with trainees. Her job was to be the assistant supervisor for the sergeant and to handle the administrative work for the field-training program. Technically, she was the lead trainer. She would be called upon to pair up with a struggling recruit, either identifying his or her deficiency and correcting the problem, or sometimes recommending termination. Police work wasn’t for everyone, after all. That wasn’t the case here. One of the training officers on the squad was out sick and Devon was simply filling the void for the night.

“Adam Four responding,” Devon said.

“You think this is gonna be related to Kelsey’s case?” Steph asked as they reached their patrol cars, parked side by side in the rear lot.

“I’m not sure, but most kids don’t torch a car after they’re done riding in it. If they don’t wreck it, they just ditch it somewhere.” Devon stood in the open door frame waiting until her trainee started the car. As soon as he did, she pushed the button to open the passenger window, letting a little air circulate around the sweltering interior. The interior was hot, but more than that, she was stalling. She hated being in the passenger side of her own patrol car.

Steph laughed at her. “You act like you're claustrophobic. Get in the car.”

“There’s no room on this side,” Devon complained goodnaturedly. “The damn computer is practically in my lap and I can’t press the brake pedal from over here.”

“Control freak. How else are you supposed to grade him in driving?” Steph asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Devon groaned, before shooting a sideward grin at Paul Nicholson, the recruit behind the wheel. He was actually top notch. She considered him the best rookie she’d ever trained, and she liked his personality. Devon knew Paul didn’t take her grumbling seriously. He laughed as they pulled out of the parking lot. She watched Steph’s vehicle pull away first and while Paul drove, she dialed Kelsey’s number to relate the details of their call.

“I didn’t think you were working tonight,” Devon said.

“Crazy night. I was on a call around the corner. Get this. A uniformed officer responds to a auto theft at a car storage place. Three Mercedes Benz and a couple of BMW coupes were taken out of the lot. It looks like they freakin’ drive up and remove the gate, go in and drive off with the five cars.”

“Wow. Sounds like an inside job.”

“Most likely. And, that’s not all. Vice still has the wiretap going and we picked up some very interesting chatter tonight. I was going to call you later, but now I’ll fill you in when I see you.” There was no mistaking the excitement in her voice.

“I’ll be waiting.” Devon grimaced as she climbed from the patrol car and took in the scene before her. The firemen were drowning the vehicle with hundreds of gallons of water. Devon couldn’t see any more flames, but the fire fighters continued to flood the wreckage as an extra precaution. One of the guys used a crowbar to wrench open the hood, and the one on the hose doused the entire engine area as well. The acrid smell of burned rubber and charred upholstery produced noxious gasses and the officers tried to stay upwind to inhale as little as possible. What a mess. At least they’d gotten lucky and it wasn’t fully engulfed, which would have obliterated any possible evidence.

When the firemen finished, the two recruits carefully combed through the wreckage looking for any salvageable item to be cataloged on the impound inventory. Between the fire and the water, Devon doubted they’d find anything, but she wanted to be thorough just the same. “If you find anything, let me know. I’m going to check the hot sheet for vehicles like this one.” Sure enough, a green Chevy had been used in another robbery a couple of nights before. No tag on this one, she noted.

A dark blue sedan pulled up behind her squad car and Devon smiled at Kelsey. “Sorry to add to your work tonight.”

Kelsey climbed out of the car and pulled a notebook from her back pocket. She was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, much more casual than her normal business attire.

“Who wants to relax on a Sunday night?” She plucked a pen from behind her ear. “What have you got?”

“This one matches the general description of the getaway vehicle in that restaurant robbery from Friday night.” Devon pointed toward the burned out wreckage. “No tag on it.”

Kelsey nodded. “Let’s have a look and see if we can find a VIN.”

Devon checked the VIN plate on the dash, just at the base of the windshield. It was a little melted, but she could just make out the numbers. She jotted them down in her notebook and then ran the number on her computer. “Comes back to an eighty-five Chevy,” she told Kelsey, who was leaning over the engine block and straining to see something on the back wall.

“Dev, you’re taller than me. If I shine the light, see if you can read off the number for me? Just give me the last four for now.”

“Sure.” Devon leaned down and called out the last four digits. She frowned, realizing they were different from the numbers on the dash. The numbers should match.

“Just as I thought,” Kelsey said. “They switched the VIN in the dash, ’cause that’s the most common place people look. The number on the engine block is the real one.” They ran that number, and sure enough, it came back stolen.

Kelsey made some notes and examined the rest of the car while Devon and Steph had their rookies order the tow truck and check the area for possible witnesses.

“So, what do you think is going on?” Devon asked when she finished.

“I really don’t know. The car lot job has got to be pros, but these individual ones…” She shook her head. “I’m thinking it’s the same guys taking the cars with the VINs switched out. Kids don’t do that. For now, I’m focusing on those, because they keep showing up in other crimes. The others have vanished, probably sold, and headed for points south, like the one I told you about in Miami. I think the same shop is running the operation, though. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Roy’s name came up.” Kelsey flipped through her notes as she talked.

“What about Honeycutt?” Devon watched the car being hoisted onto the flatbed of the wrecker. As the front end lifted off the ground, water gushed from the interior.

“Miami ID’d your guy. He’s the one who dropped the vehicle at the port there.”

“No shit?” She spun back toward her friend waiting for the rest.

“Yeah. I haven’t got enough to link him to the other thefts, so I’ll let that ride. The detective in Miami and I are going to compare notes to get the whole picture and hopefully make a much stronger case. It will help that Vinny’s got priors out the ass. I can get more leverage with his probation officer. That was a real treat talking to him at the jail. Apparently, women are supposed to be subservient to men in all things, which kind of put a damper on our rapport.” She snorted. “He’s a jack of all trades, and his specialty is lifting cars. But of course, he does things like beating women in his spare time. I wanted to kick the shit out of him right there in the jail.”

“Sounds like a real asshole,” Devon said.

“But that’s not all. I got some more background on him for you. Interesting stuff. White male, Vincent Honeycutt, twenty-nine years of age, released last August from Florida State Prison at Starke. His first juvenile arrests are in Maryland and Virginia. Small-time stuff, thefts and the like. Nothing that really sticks out.”

“What’d he do that landed him in the state prison with the big boys?” Devon asked.

“That aggravated assault charge was dropped from attempted murder. He drove a screwdriver through a co-worker’s eye during a fight at the body shop he worked at.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah,” Kelsey said. “He’s got anger issues. His encounters with the law go back to when he was about sixteen. Oh, and he fits the description the kids in the stolen car gave us on the guy who traded it for dope.”

“What about Martin Honeycutt?”

Kelsey walked toward her car, away from the others, and Devon followed. “That’s where things get interesting.” Kelsey spoke in a hushed but animated voice. “His military service record shows a dishonorable discharge and an arrest. Did you know about that?”

“Yes.” Devon remembered the day Honeycutt was taken into custody. He was charged with falsifying documents in order to justify her arrest for conduct unbecoming an officer.

“Did you know he committed suicide several years later? I’ve got a copy of the obituary notice listing a Vincent as his surviving son, and I found a hometown newspaper article with a picture of the funeral service. The son and our boy are one in the same, Devon.”

Devon stood perfectly still, absorbing the words. The wrecker driver finished securing the car with chains and the hydraulic lift groaned as it shifted its heavy load into place. Her stomach soured. Suddenly the truth came rushing in like a roaring waterfall. He was in town because she was. She could dismiss it as coincidence if they simply happened to arrest him on the battery charge, but he had made a point to show up at the station and walk right up to her. She winced at the realization that in all likelihood he had known full well who she was and she had been completely vulnerable. It wasn’t a good feeling. Kelsey was still speaking and she refocused.

“Did you hear me? Did you know that?”

“No. Not the suicide.”

“Are you going to let me in on what’s going on soon? Does the father’s suicide have something to do with your past? And is that the reason the son’s here?”

“I’m starting to think it might be. His father was definitely an enemy when I was in the service.” Devon’s brain was in overdrive as she thought about all of the implications. “Vincent was hanging around the lot at the station the other night.”

“We’ll deal with it as it comes. Just make sure you keep me in the loop, Dev.”

“I will. So, did you talk to him again?”

Kelsey shook her head. “He made bail somehow before I got back out there to follow up. I was hoping maybe you might have some time tonight or tomorrow to try to find him at his place there off of Broadway. Given your history with the father, I’d obviously prefer you to take someone with you. I didn’t see the Taurus when I went by there yesterday. Hopefully, he didn’t skip out on us.”

“I’m on it.”

“Thanks. Also, Roy’s auto body is still my best guess for engineering this little enterprise. As of right now, I’ve got nothing concrete to actually tie them in, beyond the name Roy mentioned on the wire. If we can find any kind of link, then I can get a search warrant for the place. These guys are slick. I’ve got some spotty surveillance going on but nothing to show for it. He’s keeping his little side business pretty well hidden so far.”

“Maybe he’s got another place where they clone the stolen cars?” Devon suggested.

“Probably. Do me a favor and look around. It’s gotta be close by. Call me if you need anything. I’m heading back home to try to salvage the rest of my night off.”

It was nearly the end of the shift before Devon could even think about getting back out to check on Kelsey’s leads. Paul stopped the patrol car several houses away from where she'd previously arrested Vincent Honeycutt, and they exited quietly to make the rest of their approach on foot. He jogged to catch up with Devon, who was already striding quickly toward the porch of the now familiar ratty duplex. Unlike her first visit, all was quiet. Tonight an empty six-pack of cheap beer sat on the cracked cement stoop beside the door. Both sides of the place were dark, but an old air conditioner rattled loudly in the window on the south side. Devon was glad. That was Honeycutt’s unit and the noise would conceal their presence. She circled the entire building without finding any sign of the inhabitants or their vehicles. Devon wondered briefly if his female companion had finally gotten her fill of the beatings and left.

“Anything?” she asked her trainee.

Paul shook his head as he emerged from the other side. “You think he’s still here?”

She motioned in the direction of the front window. “Somebody’s running the A/C unit.” Scanning the surrounding property one more time, Devon had a gut feeling that he hadn’t moved on. He might be gone right now, but he’d be back and so would she. The muffled sound of an air compressor kicking on behind her made her look to the east. A dim light was burning somewhere inside the body shop a few doors down. The rolling chain link gates out at the road were closed and secured with a padlock, but someone was working inside. Her eyes followed the roofline to the front of the business. A hand painted sign read: Roy’s Auto Works.

“Let’s go, Paul. We’ll follow up on this next week.”

ROUNDING THE CORNER of her street on Monday evening, Devon was surprised at the sight of Mac’s truck in her driveway. She pulled past it into the garage and then hit the button on the inside wall to close the door before entering the house through the kitchen. When she reached the doorway of the living room, she had to laugh at the sight of her friend sitting on the couch with a beer in her hand, her sock-covered feet propped up on the coffee table.

Mac grinned at her. “Hiya.”

“What’s up?” Devon took her gear bag to the bedroom and dropped it on the floor. She’d been teaching defensive tactics at the academy most of the day, and the beer in Mac’s hand looked like just the thing to cool her off. First she needed a shower.

“Hope you don’t mind me letting myself in,” Mac called from the living room. “I just wanted to hang out. I ordered a pizza.”

Devon leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded across her chest and studied Mac. She had this aura of happiness around her, like she was quite contented to be sitting right where she was, without a care in the world. Her weekend had obviously gone well. The two of them must have shared an evening just like this one hundreds of times, kicking back and talking about whatever was on their minds. The problem was, Devon wasn’t sure how much she wanted to hear about whatever was going on with Mac and Jillian at the moment. She and Mac had been sharing details of their lives for more than ten years now, but this time Devon was feeling a bit of anxiety about what Mac might want to tell her. No matter what she’d told herself about being supportive, this was obviously going to require some adjustment. Still, she didn’t want Mac to feel uncomfortable and gave her an easy grin. “You disappear for three days and then suddenly show up here?” It was the only question that came to mind.

“I did not disappear.”

“I last saw you at a bar in Orlando on Friday night with a strange woman,” Devon said. “Today’s Monday.”

“I’ll give you the three days, but she was no stranger.” She winked at Devon, who covered her ears.

“I don’t want to hear details.”

Mac laughed at her. “You want a beer, then?”

“In a minute. I’m in desperate need of a shower. Be right back.”

Devon emerged feeling refreshed but hungry and glad to see Mac carrying the pizza box to the coffee table with plates and napkins. She picked up her beer and plopped onto the couch next to Mac, taking a long, satisfying drink. They dug in wordlessly, each drifting in her own thoughts, although Devon suspected that Mac was here to do more than share a meal. She lifted a second slice of pizza onto her plate and they settled back, both sets of legs crossed at the ankles on the table. “Damn, this is awesome. Thanks.”

“No sweat.”

“You’re in a good mood tonight,” Devon observed after a few bites. Mac looked as if she wanted to say something and Devon waited. She knew Mac was very precise when sharing her feelings, never one to just pop off without thinking. That’s why Devon paid attention when Mac talked.

“How’s Jessie?” she finally asked.

“Good. I haven’t actually seen her yet. Scheduling hassles.” Devon felt herself grinning foolishly at just the mention of Jessie. “She’s good.”

“Good. You said that.” Mac chuckled and sat back, watching her with interest. “So you’re seeing her officially?”

“Wednesday night will be our first actual date, but we’ve been talking a lot, wearing out my mobile phone battery. I’d like to think it’s a beginning.”

“That’s…good.” They both laughed now. “Don’t we sound intelligent tonight?” Mac said.

“Beautiful women do that. Make your brain go all fuzzy.” Devon playfully tapped her finger on the top of her dark head. “Especially after you sleep with them.”

Mac looked uncomfortable and shifted on the couch. “I tried to imagine what it would be like if you suddenly told me that you were dating my ex, but I couldn’t do it.”

“I knew the minute I saw you with her at that bar that it was inevitable.” Devon shrugged. “Different circumstances.”

“That’s it? Really? This is me, remember? I happen to know you’re not that well adjusted.”

“Funny.” But Mac was right, so she came clean. “It’s a little weird. And I’ll admit it’s going to take some getting used to. I will though.”

“I’m glad to know you aren’t just being magnanimous for my sake.”

“This whole thing has been kind of crazy.” Devon’s gaze drifted to the window and her mind’s eye saw a younger version of herself, so brash and foolish. She blew out a long breath and refocused on Mac. “Anyway, we had dinner and came to an understanding.”

“I talked to Jillian about you the other night.”

“That’s not a very conducive topic for romance,” Devon told her.

“It was important for both of us,” Mac continued. “Actually, she brought it up. She asked me how long I’d known you and then asked me a little about Beirut. I didn’t know you hadn’t told her about Alex. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. It doesn’t have to be a secret.”

“Of course, that led into the topic of your relationship with Jillian, briefly. For what it’s worth, I got the feeling that she genuinely regrets what happened with the two of you. I know how stubborn you can be when you feel that someone has betrayed your trust. I think she’s paid the price. You were both young and scared, making the best decisions you could under incomprehensible stress.” Mac looked kindly at Devon. “Jill told me that the two of you were friends before anything else and she would love nothing more than to reestablish your friendship. Your call, though. I’m not taking sides. The part of me that’s your friend just needed to know that she really cared about you once.”

Devon had so many conflicting emotions when it came to Jillian. But once upon a time, it had been true that next to Mac, there was no more loyal friend to have than Jillian Gray. Devon understood the compassionate woman beneath the frivolous playgirl front that she put on for the rest of the world. One look at Mac told Devon that she’d be seeing more of Jill, for sure.

“You don’t have to worry, I’m good. We’ll work on the friendship.” She tapped her bottle against Mac’s. “You’ve made quite an impression on her, and that’s no small thing. I’m happy for you.”

Relief washed over Mac’s features. “Glad that’s settled. Anyway, tell me all about Jessie. You’re different about her. Intense.”

Devon favored Mac with a flash of her trademark grin, then said seriously, “To be honest, Mac, I realized that Jessie makes me feel...I don’t know.” She bit her lip, trying to think of the right explanation.

“Like you’ve been wasting time with every other woman you’ve known?” Mac said. “I get that.”

“That is one way of putting it. She’s amazing. You get that, huh? As in, you feel the same way? Wow, I didn’t realize just how serious you were.”

“Jill is like no woman I’ve ever met. She makes me want to really know her—not just physically. Ya know, things like whether she likes cherry or orange popsicles, or if she cries at sappy old movies, what’s her favorite color.”

“I can’t believe we're both finally falling for a woman—at the same time. Must be some super alignment of the stars.”

Mac joined her in laughter as she headed back to the kitchen for fresh beers. “Anyway, what’s going on at work? Anything good?”

“Yeah, actually I need to talk to you about something.” She waited for Mac to settle again. “Do you remember Kelsey Sinclair’s case? The auto theft ring?” With everything else going on, there hadn’t been an opportunity to tell Mac about Honeycutt’s son lurking around.

“You’ve got that ‘you’re not gonna fucking believe this’ look. What’s up?”

Devon sighed and took a long drink from her beer. “Her number one suspect turns out to be the guy Jessie, Nate, and I got into that knock-down-drag-out fight with before I went to Orlando.”

“I remember.” Mac dropped her head onto the back of the couch.

Devon shifted to look directly at Mac. “His name is Vincent Honeycutt.”

Mac’s mouth opened and closed, her eyes wide as the words sunk in.

“What’s worse is some strange shit’s been going on. I didn’t want to say anything at first, ’cause it might have been my wild imagination or even coincidence, but it’s got to all be related.”

Mac sat forward on full alert now.

Devon walked over to the desk and pulled out the folder of information that Kelsey had gathered and handed it to Mac. She leafed through the records as Devon continued to explain.

“When I saw who he was the night of the arrest, I asked Kelsey to order the military record. I saw her on a call the other night and she let me know he made bail. Junior’s back on the street.”

“Holy shit,” Mac breathed. She handed the file back to Devon.

Devon stared at the picture of Chief Warrant Officer Honeycutt with an uneasy feeling inside. She flipped a few pages back to have a look at Vincent. While his father had twisted the system to further his agenda, Junior, on the other hand, operated in total disregard for any rules, including the law. He was a revenge-driven criminal mind with a running head start. His last booking picture glared at her. It was an image of pure evil, complete with anarchy and swastika tattoos and black, lifeless eyes.

“I guess Junior has an ax to grind.” Mac said.

Devon nodded. “So it would seem.”

“So, what now?”

“Kelsey doesn’t have enough to charge anyone, yet. I’ve been poking around over there, trying to help her, but so far nothing.”

“First of all,” Mac pointed her finger at Devon. “You don’t go near there without having somebody with you. Preferably, several people. Understood?”

“I’m fine.”

“No. I know how you are. If you get the chance, you’ll go barreling in there like a bull in a china shop. You don’t know what he’s capable of, Dev. Seriously.”

“You need to be careful, too. I mean, he could be targeting both of us.”

“But how would he have all of this information?” Mac shook her head.

“His dad had access to a lot of records. Who knows? Maybe someone is feeding him information now. Our old friend, Honeycutt, was conniving, he kept lots of notes on all of us, remember? It’s possible he had copies that they didn’t find back then. That would explain things. If his father kept his own files, then he has my name, your name—” Her eyes shifted to meet Mac’s.

“Oh, you don’t think...?”

Devon said, “He might have us all in his crosshairs, or maybe not. I think we shouldn’t discount any possibility. I’ll keep an eye on Jessie. You better tell Jill.”

Chapter Thirteen

DEVON SAT IN a grocery store parking lot and checked her watch. Six-thirty. She looked at the road sign at the intersection and was fairly certain she was close, but showing up thirty minutes early would be pathetic. But then again, it was better than being late, right? And Jessie was the last woman in the world that she wanted to keep waiting. This was the first time she would be picking Jessie up at home—her parent’s home. That alone was enough to rattle her nerves. Devon had been introduced briefly at Jessie’s party, but the number of guests had precluded any real conversation that night. This was entirely different. Jessie was very close with her family, her mom in particular, and Devon understood the scrutiny on her tonight would be intense. She checked the time again. Six thirty-six. She ignored the inner voice needling about looking too anxious and dug the phone out of her pocket to dial Jessie.

“Hi,” Jessie said after the second ring.

“Hi.”

“Is everything okay? You’re still coming, right?”

“Absolutely,” Devon rushed to reassure her. “I just didn’t want to be late and…well…” She laughed at herself and started over. “I’m right down the street at the grocery store. I can wait if you want.” She hoped Jessie wouldn’t mind that she’d brought her motorcycle tonight. All weekend she dreamed of streaking through the night with Jessie clinging tightly to her back and the rumble of the engine beneath them. She had even gotten up early that morning and spent a couple of hours washing and detailing the bike until every inch of it gleamed in the sunlight.

Now Jessie laughed with her. “No, silly. Come down Main and take the first right. I’ll be waiting outside.” Minutes later, Jessie waved as Devon rounded the corner. If the sport bike surprised her she didn’t show it.

From behind the mirrored face guard of her helmet Devon admired Jessie’s beauty as she parked. The glow of the late afternoon sun reflected in her hair, and she tucked a strand behind her ear as she eased up to the side of the bike. Tonight she was wearing a sleeveless green top that perfectly matched her eyes, and the deep vee cut of the collar revealed the long line of her neck, coming to a point between her breasts. Well-worn jeans fit snugly to accentuate her narrow waist and the curve of her hips and tapered to where they covered the tops of black boots. Devon set the kickstand with her heel and swung her leg over the seat, acutely aware of Jessie’s eyes on her as she pulled off her helmet and gloves.

The discolored remnants of bruises still remained on Jessie's face, and Devon stepped closer to delicately brush the tip of her thumb just beneath her eye. The bruise there had faded to a pale greenish color. Careful not to apply pressure, she took Jessie’s face between her hands and inspected the area closely before placing a feather light kiss over the wounded area. A picture of the punch crystallized in her mind, instantly pushing the button on her anger. She clenched her jaw, vowing that Vincent would pay dearly for his transgressions.

Jessie moved closer and Devon gathered her into a full body hug, rewarded by feel of Jessie’s arms around her.

“Mmm, hello,” she murmured against Devon’s neck.

Devon breathed in deeply, immersing herself in Jessie’s warmth, letting her anger melt away in the soothing embrace. Jessie’s scent was an alluring mixture of warm vanilla and jasmine with a hint of spice that infused Devon’s blood. Jessie traced her hand along Devon’s spine, sending shockwaves through her system and her knees felt weak. She tightened her grip around the woman in her arms.

“Hello,” she answered, glad she could get away with a one-word answer because she was certain that a sentence would be too complicated the way her brain was shutting down.

The sounds of laughter floated toward them from the house, and Devon remembered that Jessie’s family was inside. She heard them talking through the open screen door just twenty feet up the cement walkway. A new round of butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She looked apprehensively at the modest, one-story stucco house, painted in earth tones to match the rest in the quiet residential neighborhood. A plaque next to the front door said, Welcome Friends. That did nothing to calm her nerves.

Jessie looked in the direction of the house and hesitated. “It’s kind of a long story. After the ugly breakup last year I had to move back, but it’s only temporary.” She glanced at the house and back to Devon. “Is it okay if we go chat with them for a few minutes? I know they’re all in there just dying to talk to you. If we don’t go in soon, they’ll be pressing their faces to the windows. I promise we won’t stay long.”

Devon watched embarrassment paint the tips of Jessie’s ears a deep red, positive she couldn’t get any more adorable. She lifted a shoulder. “No sweat. First date, meet the parents.” She took Jessie’s hands in her own. “Anything you want.”

Mercifully, the visit did not last long. The Kilbrides were very nice people, appropriately concerned about their daughter. Her father gave Devon a long, appraising look that became friendly when he learned that Devon was a fellow army vet. “I was in 'Nam in sixty-eight and sixty-nine. Glad to know Jessie’s improving on her choices.” He winked. “I could tell right off you had respect. That last one—”

“Charles.” His wife cut in.

Jessie gave Devon an apologetic smile. “They’re just a little protective since…”

A clock chimed loudly from the corner, interrupting her explanation, and Devon was glad to be able to change the subject for Jessie’s sake. “That is beautiful,” Devon moved closer to the ornately carved grandfather clock standing floor to ceiling in the corner of the room. The brass pendulum alone must have been four feet long. “Workmanship like that is a lost art these days.”

“It’s been in my family for four generations,” Mrs. Kilbride’s voice brimmed with pride.

Jessie hurried her mom and dad through a final, brief conversation and then announced they'd be late for their dinner reservations if they didn't go now. Mr. Kilbride told them to be careful and Jessie’s mom asked twice whether Jessie had her cell phone.

She smiled indulgently at her mother. “Yes, Mom, I’ve got it. Don’t worry. And, we might be late, so don’t wait up, okay?”

Devon held her breath waiting for the reaction, but Mrs. Kilbride only said, “Be careful, honey.”

“We will, Mom.”

Jessie stopped at the closet in the foyer and retrieved a motorcycle helmet from the top shelf. She closed the door and pulled a pair of leather gloves from inside the helmet as they stepped outside. Devon started to walk toward her bike, but instead of following down the walk, Jessie turned right and moved toward the garage. She pulled up the large door, revealing a brilliant blue Suzuki Katana 750, the same color as the helmet in her hand. That bike would easily keep pace with Devon’s Yamaha GTS 1000. She never figured Jessie for owning a bike, let alone a touring bike of that size. Devon stood there wide-eyed with newfound respect.

“What?” She gave Devon a mischievous grin.

“Nothing, I just didn’t realize you had a bike. Every time I think I’ve got you figured out, something new gets added to the mix. You are certainly full of surprises.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Devon shook her head. “No. It’s absolutely a good thing.”

A new sparkle in Jessie’s eyes said she liked the answer. “Do you mind if we take both bikes?” The question was rhetorical because Jessie was already rolling the machine out into the driveway. She turned the key and twisted the throttle. The engine roared to life. Jessie pulled the helmet over her head, pushing the dark face guard up with her left thumb and revealing those stunning green eyes that twinkled as she laughed.

“You ready?” she asked over the rumble of the powerful engine.

“Yeah.”

Devon’s plan had been to pick Jessie up and take her to dinner, the two of them sharing her ride. She’d scarcely thought of anything else all day. Now here was this amazing woman flashing a kilowatt smile from inside her helmet, sitting on her own motorcycle with an unmistakable flirtatious challenge in her eyes.

“Then, let’s go,” Jessie called playfully.

Devon climbed back on her bike and started the engine. She made a slow U-turn in front of the house, while Jessie coasted hers out of the driveway. They drove leisurely down the street and out of the neighborhood. As soon as they reached the main road, Jessie glanced over her shoulder and then cranked back on the throttle. The bike rocketed down the road, carrying Jessie toward the horizon, leaving Devon no choice but to chase her toward the setting sun.

AFTER DINNER THEY lingered on the restaurant’s deck enjoying the clear night and the warm sea breeze. A half-moon shone brightly in the sky, its reflection shimmering on the surface of the dark water as the waves lapped against the rocks below them. Jessie had proven to be delightful company. She entertained Devon with stories from her childhood right up through her greatest blunders and achievements during her recently completed police training.

Devon had struggled during their entire meal to keep up with the conversation. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t interested in what Jessie had to say, she was. The problem was that little gestures or an inflection in Jessie’s voice would distract her. She had drifted again. Jessie finished speaking and Devon refocused. “The first night we met you said you always wanted to be a police officer. Any special reason for that?” Devon refilled their wine glasses and set aside the empty bottle.

“Always,” Jessie said. The clarity in her expression was amazing. Devon wasn’t sure she’d ever thought about being a cop before her military service. “My favorite TV character was Christine Cagney,” Jessie mused.

Devon laughed. “That character didn’t make me want to be a cop, but it was my favorite show for other reasons. I think having a crush on her was kind of a requirement for being a lesbian.”

“Me, too,” Jessie said. “Anyway, I knew the first time I saw that show. I told my mom I was going to be a detective just like Cagney someday.”

“So, you want to be a detective, do you?”

“Yep. I love sifting through a crime scene and searching for clues. Nate said the best investigators pay attention to detail and what isn’t said as much as to what’s said.”

“He’s absolutely right. Also, remember to compare statements to what you see at the crime scene. If they don’t match up, or something doesn’t feel right, then it probably isn’t.”

Jessie nodded. “I’ll remember. What about you? Did you always dream of being a cop?”

“No. I had a military career in mind, but that didn’t work out. Now that I’m here, there’s nothing I’d rather be doing. I mean that sincerely.”

“I completely agree.” Jessie’s enthusiasm lit her eyes.

“Normally I’d tell you to wait a few years and see if you still feel that way, but in your case I’d say you’ve found your calling.” Devon smiled at Jessie’s blush.

“After my party, I wasn’t sure you would want to see me again,” Jessie said, changing the subject.

“Why would you ever think that?”

“It’s…ahh, you’re a corporal, a trainer, a SWAT officer. You have so much going on in your life. I see you around the station, always surrounded by people and activity, and I’m just—I don’t know.” She seemed at a loss to complete her thought.

“Are you kidding? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that very first day I saw you in the gym.” It was the unvarnished truth. Devon watched Jessie process the message, her expression moving from uncertainty to pleasure. “After your party, all I wanted to do was to spend more time together.” She reached out to take Jessie’s hand on the table, feeling fortunate to be in such superb company. “I’m sorry I didn’t call when I first got to Orlando. Please don’t think it was lack of interest on my part. I hope this date will be the first of many.”

Jessie squeezed Devon’s hand. “I’d like that.”

“So you had to move back with your folks a while back?” Devon ventured without judgment.

“Uh huh. After my last relationship imploded. My parents have been great, although they’re understandably gun shy of my prospective dates. Because Angela—” Jessie stopped and looked thoughtful, as though considering the rest of her answer. “My ex and I were together for about two years. You met her at the party.”

“A pleasure.”

Jessie tried to stifle a laugh. “Anyway, she wasn’t much for fidelity. She’s more the controlling, womanizer type.” She sighed. “I don’t know why I waited so long to confront her. I wonder now if her lies were that easy to believe or if I was afraid to face my own failure. I guess I wanted to believe she cared. In the end, it didn’t really matter.” Jessie studied her wine when she finished.

Devon said, “Angela is a fool. You make thoughts of any other women impossible.” Jessie stared intently, as though needing to confirm Devon’s sincerity. “It’s true.”

Jessie gave her a grateful smile that filled the moments of silence.

“So, what about you?” Jessie’s question broke the spell.

Devon sipped her water. “What would you like to know?” A familiar twinge of discomfort gripped her gut, but the warmth of Jessie’s expression was reassuring.

“Tell me about your life.”

“Wow.” Devon blinked. “All thirty-three years, or can I hit the highlights?” When Jessie laughed her entire face lit up and Devon was completely captivated.

“I want to know what makes you who you are,” Jessie said. “I mean, I know that you're a very capable police officer, but sometimes I can see so much more in your eyes.”

Devon held her gaze but didn’t answer. She feared Jessie could see what others didn’t.

“Let’s start with an easy one,” Jessie said lightly. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

“One of each—older sister, younger brother.”

“Middle child, huh? Me, too.” Jessie grinned. “Do they live here?”

“My brother lives in the Midwest, I think, and my sister lives in Pittsburgh.”

“You don’t know where your brother lives?”

“We don’t share the same values in life,” Devon said simply. When Jessie looked puzzled, she added, “He spent a few years in prison. We don’t keep in touch.”

“Parents?”

“My dad left when I was four. My mom died about ten years ago.”

“Sorry,” Jessie said.

“It’s all right. We weren’t really close.” She didn’t elaborate further, indicating the subject was closed.

“Now, since you know about my ex, tell me about your last serious relationship. I can’t believe some smart woman hasn’t laid claim to a woman as attractive as you.” She smiled appreciatively and Devon felt her ears burning with heat at the compliment.

Devon made it a point not to discuss her personal life as a rule. She didn’t let people in, but it felt different with Jessie. Opening up to Jessie actually felt possible, and Devon knew she would eventually tell her about Jillian and Alex. But not now. She didn’t want to dredge up bitter memories tonight. “Can I promise to tell you another time?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.” Looking down at their intertwined hands, Jessie said, “You can take as long as you want.”

“Thanks. And, you’re not prying.” Devon rubbed her thumb over the back of Jessie’s hand to reassure her.

“Ready to get out of here?” Jessie asked quickly. The joy had returned to her face, automatically lifting Devon’s heart.

“Sure, where to?”

“You just leave that to me.”

They raced effortlessly through the night down the winding beach road with the moon and stars reflecting on the water to their right, Devon once again following Jessie’s lead. She slowed after a time and they pulled off into a small parking strip along an area of high dunes. Devon watched Jessie dismount, struck again by the quiet confidence and inner beauty that always shone through. Jessie was already barefoot, having stowed her boots on the back of her bike. She started toward the sand before stopping to hold her hand out do Devon. “You coming?”

Anywhere.

“Yeah.” Devon hustled to strip off her boots and catch up. They slipped their arms around each other’s waists and walked silently along a path to a secluded beach hidden from the road by the dunes. The mist of crashing waves and the smells of the bay were carried on the warm breeze blowing through their hair. They stared into one another’s eyes for long moments. Devon pulled Jessie closer, wrapping both arms fully around her, anchoring their hips together.

A question crept into Jessie’s expression.

“What?” Devon asked. When Jessie didn’t answer Devon placed a gentle kiss on her lips. She searched Jessie’s face and hesitated, seeing uncertainty there.

“I’m having such a fantastic time,” Jessie said, but her tone faltered.

Devon’s eyes locked onto Jessie’s. “And this has been one of the best nights of my life. Is there something wrong?” She chewed on the inside of her lip anxiously waiting for Jessie to explain.

“I am so attracted to you. So much that I’m afraid. This feels special to me and I just want…” Jessie stopped, searching for words.

Devon reached out and brushed windblown strands of hair away from Jessie’s face. She felt her heart flutter in her chest. Was it possible that she stood here truly contemplating opening herself fully to a woman, after so many years of self-imposed distance from real intimacy? She wasn’t even sure she knew how to open her heart anymore. Devon shocked herself by saying, “Jess, I’ll do anything you want, just tell me.” As she spoke the words, the truth of that statement hit her full force. The pull of her soul toward this woman felt like the lunar control of the tide. “If I’ve done something wrong—”

“No. You’re wonderful. I just want to make sure we’re both ready. I’ve screwed up so much in the past. I don’t want to rush anything.” She ran her hand through Devon’s hair and then rested it along her face. “This is too important.”

Devon turned her head and kissed Jessie’s palm. Her old demons still lurked inside and made her question whether she could give Jessie everything she deserved. But being with her made Devon believe in every possibility. Jessie was becoming the reason to stop hiding behind her fears.

“I agree, you are much too important.” She kissed Jessie again, her lips softly exploring, waiting for the response signaling her welcome. When Jessie’s lips parted, Devon let her tongue tease gently inside, and she groaned when Jessie’s tongue whispered across her own. As their mouths slid together in that perfect fit of their lips, she surrendered to the wonder of Jessie. The combination of contentment, safety, and bone-melting need intensified with every touch they shared. She lost all sense of the world around them. Jessie’s kisses made her lightheaded as the blood fled from her brain to pulse between her thighs.

Devon sat and pulled Jessie onto her lap, loving the feel of their bodies together. “You are so very beautiful.” She sifted Jessie’s hair through her fingers, reveling in the silky sensation. “And.” She grinned wickedly. “Here we are in this romantic spot.” She leaned in for another kiss before dipping to kiss the pulse point on her throat. “You drive me absolutely crazy.” Her hand slid down Jessie’s shoulder to her breast, teasing her nipple through her cotton shirt.

Jessie sucked in a sharp breath at the contact, her face betraying pure desire, her nipple hardening against Devon’s palm of its own accord. She recovered and removed Devon’s exploring hand. “Anything worth having is worth the wait, stud.” She was valiantly attempting to sound resolute, although it was obvious her body didn’t mind the attention.

Devon eyed her with playful skepticism. “Is that so?” She chuckled as Jessie gripped her wrist to prevent the return of her hand to her breast.

“Stick around and see.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Devon said in a low, seductive voice.

“Walk with me.” Jessie stood and pulled Devon to her feet.

They strolled hand in hand along the surf for a time, needing no words. Jessie stooped to pick up a seashell and then suddenly splashed water on Devon. When Devon tried to grab her, Jessie laughed and darted away. Devon caught her in a few dozen strides, sweeping her off her feet and spinning them both around until they fell giggling into the sand.

“You make me feel special,” Jessie said.

“That’s because you are.” The radiant smile Jessie flashed in return drove the air out of her lungs, and somewhere in the back of Devon’s brain it registered that she would never forget this moment.

Later, outside of Jessie’s parent’s house, they leaned on Devon’s bike and spoke softly. After a while they didn’t even speak, content to simply hold each other and look up at the stars sparkling in the dark.

“I guess I should get on the road,” Devon finally said without much conviction. She hated the thought of being so far away from Jessie after the connection they’d shared tonight. She stared into Jessie’s eyes, unable to look away. The deep ache within her screamed to be released, but she wouldn’t push until the time was right. Jessie was too important. She felt that as surely as she felt her own heartbeat. Devon knew that once they made love she would never want to be without her again. She looked down at their joined hands and drew a deep breath to steady herself.

Jessie reached out and gently lifted Devon’s chin, searching her face. “I had a wonderful time tonight.”

Devon couldn’t speak around the lump of emotion in her throat. She leaned in and kissed Jessie fully, thoroughly, surrendering to the power of her emotions, shutting out her fear. Everything about this was right. Her brain swam in the intoxicating pleasure until she became aware of Jessie’s body tensing against hers.

“My mom’s on the front porch,” Jessie said through the kiss.

“Was she waiting for us?”

“No. She sits out on the porch sometimes at night.” The tip of a cigarette glowed red in the shadow.

Devon started to pull back, but Jessie held her in place. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t own a gun.” At that moment they heard Jessie’s mom clear her throat. Their eyes locked and the sheer comedy of the moment sank in and they broke into uncontrollable laughter.

“Wow,” Devon finally gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. “I can’t believe at thirty-three, I’m getting caught by my girl’s mother.” More laughter gripped them, providing a relief from the sexual tension and eventually they fell silent. They leaned against each other, Jessie’s head on Devon’s shoulder.

“Am I?” Her voice was muffled by Devon’s shirt.

Devon looked down at her. “Are you what?”

“Your girl? You said…” Her voice trailed off and she shifted as though she might move away, but Devon held her fast.

“I know what I said.”

“Did you mean it?”

Somehow in Jessie’s eyes Devon saw a future she desperately wanted. “Yes.” The resulting kiss sealed that vow and promised so much more. When it ended, she placed her hand on Jessie’s cheek and traced her bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, wishing she had the words to fully explain how deeply Jessie moved her. Jessie covered her hand with her own and somewhere in her soft smile Devon knew she felt the same. The simplest touch conveyed the deepest feeling, and Devon was humbled beyond words.

Now it really was time to go. She stepped back with a sigh, certain that this craving for Jessie’s touch would keep her up the rest of the night. She raised a hand in the air and called toward the porch, “G’night Mrs. Kilbride.” When she turned back to Jessie, her resolve nearly melted in the smoldering, sexy look in her big green eyes. What Devon wanted to do was kiss her senseless and not stop until she felt Jessie’s orgasm rage through her. Instead, she climbed onto her motorcycle and started the engine before she changed her mind.

Jessie leaned in for one last exquisite kiss, and then they exchanged a final smile before Devon tugged on her helmet. She pushed up the face-guard so that Jessie could see her eyes. “See you tomorrow?”

“Count on it.”

Devon pulled away into the night. In the rearview mirror she watched Jessie walk toward the front porch, feeling her heart follow.

Chapter Fourteen

“HERE YA GO. Turkey on whole wheat and a heart attack special.” Mac set bags of food on the table for Devon and Kelsey. Kelsey had enlisted Devon’s help with the wiretap, and they'd started to achieve some minor gains in the last week.

The wire room was a tiny windowless space that might be more aptly described as a roomy closet. The back of an old stackable chair prevented the door from opening more than a foot and a half, and Mac was forced to close it in order to fully enter. Devon pushed the headset off and swiveled back toward the table. She wondered why fried food always smelled so good when it was clearly horrible for you.

Kelsey tore open the Bennie’s Burgers sack and dug the foil-wrapped sandwich from inside. “Good, you didn’t forget the fries.” She spread the wrapper open and dumped the jumbo portion of fries beside the double cheeseburger, happily focused on her task. Devon reached over her arm to pluck one from the pile and Kelsey pulled her food away. “Get your own.” She shook her head in disgust. “Freakin’ health nuts always making fun, but when the fries come, then they want one.”

Devon poked her in the shoulder. “I’m not a health nut, but I can feel my arteries hardening just looking at all that.”

Kelsey took a huge bite. “Thanks, buddy,” she said to Mac.

The wire activity was fairly high today, and Devon was glad to be helping Kelsey out for a couple of hours prior to her shift. Most of the talk so far dealt with narcotics trafficking. Devon was learning the lingo used by the players in this game, making it a bit easier to understand what was happening and to distinguish between various identities and criminal behavior. Dopers used all kinds of language in their trade that she would have missed before. A guy saying, “I’ll meet you halfway” really meant “I can get you half an ounce,” usually cocaine or heroin. And a reference to “AK47” wasn’t about weapons at all. It referred to a potent variety of marijuana plant that has an orange color. Kelsey had explained that in doper slang, they say the wooden stocks on the AK47 rifle are sort of orange, hence the reference. Listening in was truly an eye-opening experience.

Devon took advantage of a brief break in the conversation in her ear to take a bite of her sandwich and nodded approvingly at Mac. “Good.” Another call came in. She held up a finger when Mac started to speak. The number on the screen sent a jolt of excitement through Devon as she listened.

“Yeah?” A male voice answered.

“Pick up the black SL Benz after one o’clock. It will be in the usual parking lot under the expressway. Drive it to the lot on 50th Street. Got it?” The call originated from Roy’s shop, and earlier in the day they had already identified the voice as Roy himself. Devon made a notation of the time to mark the conversation in order to preserve it for evidence. She only hoped one of them mentioned anything she could relate to drugs, or the conversation would be inadmissible in court.

“Got it.” The voice was an unknown male. She added that to her notes as they continued. “How am I gonna get there?”

“Jay will pick you up in plenty of time. He’ll drop you off close, but not too close. That time of day it will be easy to blend in with all the other foot traffic,” Roy explained. Devon wondered if Jay was the guy’s name or initial, jotting a corresponding line: J or Jay? “Don’t be late ’cause he’s got some shit to take care of for that baller he runs for. That’s not my deal. You got us hooked up with these guys, so you tell him not to leave any of his fish scales in my cars. I can’t afford any fuck-ups, understand?”

There it was. Devon scribbled fish scales on the pad and ran a few circles around it triumphantly.

“I told you, I’ll handle it.”

The conversation ended and Devon sat back to look over what she’d written on the notepad. Could the other voice be Honeycutt’s? Maybe, but she couldn’t be sure. And what about this Jay? They would have to check employees at Roy’s place for anyone named Jay or a name beginning with the letter J. She scribbled as an afterthought: Check known criminal associates for J or Jay—Roy and Vincent. She hoped that the unidentified voice turned out to be Honeycutt, but whoever it was obviously was the narc connection.

“Are you getting anything?” Mac asked as Devon wrote her remaining thoughts.

“It’s slow going.” Kelsey spoke around the next bite of her burger. “We have to sift through the insignificant BS and wait for the crumbs of info about the cars in the midst of the main communication, which is the narcotics dealing. We can listen in two-minute increments. If the chatter isn’t about drugs, we have to stop for a while. But. If during the two minutes they mention drugs we’re good, even when they start talking about other stuff. The trick is to be able to understand what they’re talking about. That’s how the narc guys let me know about the cars.”

“Huh. That’s interesting," Mac said. “I had no idea.”

Devon reached back to the electronic console to press the button for the speaker that would allow them to hear when the next call came in. Then she pulled off her headset and pushed the pad in front of Kelsey. “We might have just picked up a little speed. Check this out. Mac, I think you just brought us some good luck.” She got up and went to the giant whiteboard that took up three-quarters of the wall behind them. All of the names of various players were displayed in a sort of flow chart of who’s who. Devon added the name Jay or J beneath Roy Beckman’s name.

“Fish scales. Good job, Dev. You learn quick.” Devon and Kelsey high-fived.

Kelsey said to Mac, “That term refers to high quality rock cocaine. The purer it is, the more crystalline, and shiny like fish scales.”

Mac’s brow knit together. “That’s a stretch.”

Kelsey raised her hands. “I told you, it’s doper slang. I don’t make the shit up, I just report it. Do you know which lot he’s talking about along the expressway?” she asked Devon. Mac was looking over Kelsey’s shoulder to read the details as well.

“No. Problem is there are miles of lots in that area, if he’s talking about the toll road. If it’s the interstate there’s even more area to cover.” Devon gave Mac a sly grin. “Unless whoever is canvassing the area has a bird's eye view. You interested?”

“Me? Interested in an excuse to fly? And the added bonus of catching a second-generation lowlife in the process? Was that a trick question? Of course I’m in.”

“Good. Then you can supplement our coverage when I have to take other calls.” Devon checked her watch. “Speaking of which, I’ve got to get going, Kelsey. My shift starts in an hour and a half, and I want to hit the gym before roll call.”

“Have a good shift. Thanks for coming in and helping me out this morning. With any luck, we’ll get these assholes with this new information. Even if we don’t, I think there’s enough proof of a criminal enterprise going on here that I can get my major to authorize some additional manpower. Next time you might even get paid for doing this with me.”

“Now that would be amazing.” Devon said. She turned to Mac. “You wanna walk me out?”

“Sure.”

“Kelsey, I’ll talk to you later. Call me if anything comes up.”

“Will do, Dev. Be careful.” Devon picked up her keys and started to leave but Kelsey snapped her fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Remember the call last week with the multiple high-end cars taken? We may have caught a break there, too. The responding officer did some more looking around after I left.

Damndest thing. She found some metal shavings in the parking lot that look like they may have come from duplicating the keys. Then, when she looked closer, she found a blank key in the dirt. I guess they dropped it and didn’t notice. Somebody stepped on it, so it got covered. The tech got a good picture of the shoe impression. They’re working on the partial print left on the key. Great spot, I’ll tell you. That officer impressed me. I’ve never seen her before. Kilbride. She’ll make a great detective some day.”

Mac and Devon shared a look, but said nothing. Devon was inordinately pleased with Kelsey’s compliment of Jessie’s work. “Thanks for the info, Kelsey. I’ll call you later.”

Mac followed Devon down the hallway to the elevator. She stared at Devon with an amused expression, obviously waiting for her to speak. Devon waited until they entered the elevator and the doors closed.

“Something on your mind?” she asked.

“As if you don’t know.”

Devon punched the ground floor button. “Lot of good police work going on.” Mac was still watching her. Devon held out as long as she could, but finally broke into a huge smile. “Jessie told me about finding the key the other night. She was so excited to get praise from Kelsey that she called me right away.”

Mac shook her head. “She’s smart, too? Wow. Still no accounting for her interest in you.”

Devon looked at her blankly. “I’ll ignore your failed attempt at humor. She’s sharp, that’s for sure. The print on that key is gonna break this case, wait and see.”

“Unless we catch the thief in the act this afternoon,” Mac countered.

The doors slid open and they stepped out into the lobby and through the glass double doors that led to the garage. Several officers passed and they exchanged greetings as they walked to Devon’s car. She grabbed her uniform off the hook inside the back door.

“You and Jessie are doing well I take it?”

“I think so.”

“How was the date?”

“Amazing.”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Mac. You gonna see Jill this weekend?”

“That’s the plan.” Mac nodded.

“Say hello for me.” Devon switched her pistol from the small holster on her hip to her duty leather, dropped her gun belt over her shoulder and slammed the car door shut. “I’ve got to get changed. But, let’s grab a bite on our next days off, okay?”

“All right, Dev. So today, I’ll be flying after one. Let me know if you get anything else.”

“Talk to you later.” Devon was already heading back inside to change, thinking it was only a matter of time before Honeycutt screwed up, and when he did, she would be there.

THE ROOKIES WERE loading up their gear at the start of the next shift, and Devon noticed that Steph had been watching her closely all through roll call. Paul was once again with Devon for the shift, and even that didn’t bother her tonight. She felt as though she was walking on air. Every spare moment her mind replayed highlights of her time spent with Jessie. Their date had been the perfect start, and each successive night had ended with lengthy phone conversations that fed Devon’s ever-increasing desire. There was no denying that she was in high spirits, but she thought that she’d been able to keep her emotion from showing outwardly. Apparently, she’d been wrong. Steph was Devon’s self-appointed relationship counselor, always trying to set her up with some friend of a friend. Devon almost always declined, promising that she’d let Steph know when the right woman came along. Now she had. Steph must have sensed a change in the air and she was looking like she might burst if she didn’t say something soon.

“Somebody enjoyed her days off.” Steph gave her the jab, knowing their rookies were within earshot.

Devon glanced in Paul’s direction and then shot a warning look at Steph. Her friend pretended not to notice, placing her hands on her hips, as if fully expecting a response. Devon only grinned and started whistling a tune as she arranged her gear to make room for Paul’s. She enjoyed making Steph crazy.

Steph stepped close and whispered, “You got laid didn’t you?” Devon’s laughter was her only response.

“Aww, c’mon...” Steph gave her shoulder a shove. “I tell you everything about my dates.”

“Yeah, usually more than I want to know.”

“You don’t have to tell me everything, just give me a little—”

Devon’s cell phone rang. She winked and moved away to give herself a bit of privacy when she saw that it was Jessie. “Hello, there.”

“Hi. How are ya?”

“Better now. Did you get any sleep?”

Jessie laughed in her ear. “You mean after we finally hung up this morning?”

A SWAT call-out had interrupted their plans last evening, but Devon had promised to call when she got home and they’d spent the rest of the night talking. The sun was rising by the time they’d reluctantly said good-bye and Devon still found it difficult to sleep. She thought the day might be tough with the extra hours spent in the wire room with Kelsey, but little doses of Jessie like this would inject an adrenaline burst sure to keep her going. It was all a state of mind.

“Yeah, after that.” She smiled picturing Jessie’s face.

“The song on my radio alarm this morning reminded me of you.”

Jessie’s voice settled in the deep recesses of her soul, filling empty spaces. Jessie had been her first waking thought and hearing Jess say the same thing was delightful. The only thing better would be actually waking up beside her. A shiver rolled through Devon’s body at the thought. “Really? Dare I ask what song?”

“Maybe later. The lines that got my attention aren’t conducive to a work environment.”

“Now I really want to know.” Jessie’s warm laughter made Devon wish she wasn’t standing in the police lot ready to start her shift. She sighed and settled for what was possible. “I’d like to see you today. Do you want to try to have coffee later? I’ve got a rookie, but I could meet you after my shift ends?”

“Sounds good. I’ll need a shot of caffeine to get me through the last couple of hours tonight. There’s this woman who’s been keeping me up past my bedtime.”

“That woman would love to tuck you in, you know.”

After a pause, Jessie quietly admitted, “I think about that, too.”

For a moment Devon was incapable of response. A siren blast made her nearly jump out of her skin as Paul went through the pre-shift equipment test, and she refocused on her surroundings. Better contain her thoughts to coffee before this conversation veered into more dangerous territory. “Great. I’ll call you to see how your night’s shaping up. If you can make it, how about the coffee shop on Central?”

“It’s a date.” Jessie’s tone was beckoning, and Devon found it more than a little alluring.

The radio emergency tone blared to indicate a priority call was about to be dispatched. Devon turned up the volume on her radio. “Shit. Hang on.”

Steph was now standing beside her and they both instinctively cocked their heads toward their shoulder mics. A serious crash had occurred at the other end of their sector. The dispatcher advised that it appeared possibly fatal.

“Sorry, Jess, I’ve gotta go.”

“Be careful.”

“Paul, let’s go!” Devon shouted. She jumped into the driver’s seat and peeled out of the police lot as he was slamming the passenger door.

“Adam Four en route,” he said.

The two cars screamed priority one through the afternoon traffic, full lights and sirens blaring their warning. Five minutes later they maneuvered the emergency vehicles across the lanes of traffic at the north side of the intersection. The crash was a head-on collision and both cars looked as though any survivors would be a miracle, with crush damage visible all the way back to the engine block. The closest vehicle was the remnants of an older model brown Toyota. Devon ran to the open driver’s door and was shocked to find the passenger compartment empty, although the windshield had a round splintered impact mark and blood covered the dash. A woman sitting in a car to her left yelled, “The man in that car ran away, officer!” She pointed to the north.

“Was he white or black? What color shirt?” She had no time to get more than a cursory description for now. The guy had to be injured and should be easy to spot.

“White guy. White T-shirt, I think. It happened so fast, ma’am.”

Devon radioed to responding units to be on the lookout for the injured suspect. Then she ran to help Steph, who was at the passenger side of the second car. She smelled gasoline. A large puddle was accumulating on the pavement beneath the car. Paul wrenched open the driver’s door of the compact Dodge, and Devon leaned in to survey the situation. The driver’s face was covered in blood that ran profusely from a large laceration in his forehead. Of immediate concern, however, was the racing car engine. The accelerator had stuck due to the impact, and the whine of the engine was deafening, not to mention the smell of the rapidly overheating brake pads that spewed noxious smoke all around them. Any spark could easily ignite the fresh gasoline. Devon reached around the driver to twist the ignition to off, eliminating the problem. Next, she turned her attention to administering first aid.

Steph simultaneously attended to the partially ejected female passenger. Apparently she had not worn her seatbelt. Her face was a bloody mess, bones obviously shattered. A compound fracture resulted in an exposed bone protruding from her forearm. The woman was not moving. Steph’s eyes flashed across the carnage of the vehicle interior at Devon. “This one’s not too good. What about him?” She motioned to the driver who moaned incoherently.

“He’s mumbling, so that’s a good sign.” Devon attempted to put pressure on the wound and at the same time keep the man’s head immobilized in the event he had spinal injuries.

Steph tossed a pair of surgical gloves to Devon. “Put these on,” she said flatly before turning back to her victim. “I can’t find a pulse on her, Dev.” Her serious tone was mixed with a touch of fear that indicated precious seconds were slipping away. She tried to shift the woman’s head to open an airway.

Devon yelled over her shoulder to Paul, “Go get the CPR mask out of the trunk! Hurry!” The command tone was unmistakable, and he scrambled to do as he was told. As the young man ran back toward the two training officers, the fire department’s first units arrived on scene. The paramedics from the advanced life support unit rushed to help Steph. They extricated the woman swiftly and got to work. Two additional paramedics appeared at Devon’s side, and she gratefully relinquished her grasp on the driver’s head, allowing the experts to take over the rescue responsibilities of the scene. Cops were trained in basic CPR, but it was clear that these people needed professional medical care if they were to survive.

With the injured victims taken care of, Devon turned her attention to the investigative portion of the crash. She scanned the area for witnesses, finding only one car pulled off on the far side of the road. It was the woman who had given the information on the missing driver. The woman was shaken but not injured. Devon quickly gathered additional information and updated the radio alert for the suspect.

The next order of business was securing the crime scene. Traffic was now snarled in both directions on the busy, four-lane thoroughfare, and Devon knew she had to come up with a plan. Their patrol cars were a quick fix while they assessed injuries, but now they had to lock down the entire road in order to preserve evidence for the rest of the investigation and clean up.

“Paul!”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Start stringing up crime scene tape. Go from the light pole on the north side of the intersection and take it around the far side of our car to the south side. I want this entire area sealed, got it?” Paul immediately set to work. Now Devon looked for Steph’s recruit, who was looking a bit confused as to what he should do next.

“Mike! Come with me!” Devon walked purposefully to the north side of the intersection. She assessed the traffic situation. If the site was not controlled properly, other vehicles would invariably try to squeeze past, and the scene could become another tragedy. A rescue worker could be injured, or worse.

“This is important,” she instructed the recruit. “We have to set up flares to direct the southbound traffic onto the shoulder of the road. Once we have the flares in place, you will stay here and direct the traffic down the west shoulder—got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” When they’d completed the task, the roadway was lined with red glowing sticks that would detour the traffic around the crash. The sulfur burned Devon’s eyes as she walked through the smoke. She was still surveying the area, reviewing tasks, ticking off her responsibilities in her mind, wanting to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Everything checked out, and she relaxed a little now that the scene was secure.

The crime scene van worked its way through the snarled traffic to the crash site, squeezing in between a red truck and a black Mercedes before stopping outside the yellow tape. “Mike!” she hollered. “Stop the traffic a minute. I gotta let them in.” Devon raised the barrier police tape to allow the van to enter. She noticed a couple of flares had gone out on that side, and quickly darted to the spot near the shoulder, lighting fresh ones and setting them into place.

The crime scene tech exited the van and called out a question. Devon turned toward him, her back to the traffic lane momentarily. She heard someone else yelling and swiveled her head in the direction of the voice. Simultaneously, an engine revved to her left, just before a dark flash skirted her peripheral vision.

A sharp pain sliced into her left side as a crushing jolt catapulted her into the air. The world flipped upside down and then she crashed onto the hood of a vehicle. Her head bounced off the windshield. The driver’s smile flashed past her vision as she careened off the left side of the car, striking the exterior mirror with her side. It snapped off with a loud crack that sent a stabbing pain across her chest. In the next instant, she hit the pavement hard with her head and then her shoulder. In the midst of the spinning above her, she saw Steph and Paul. Steph’s mouth was moving, but the loud buzzing in her ears drowned out all other sound. Steph’s face was contorted in an agonized expression. Devon attempted to ask her what was wrong, but everything went dark.

Chapter Fifteen

“TURN OFF THE damn siren,” Devon grumbled. An excruciating pain pounded in her head, threatening to crack her skull from the inside, and she couldn’t figure out why that rookie wouldn’t turn off the incessant damn noise. Something was on her face. She tried to reach up to get it off, but her arm didn’t obey the command. Vaguely, she recognized that she was lying down and she felt the swaying of motion. Her body pressed hard to the left and then shifted back into place. Everything was blurry, and blinking didn’t help clear her vision.

“Just lie still,” a male voice said from somewhere. The wail of the siren continued, and from the recesses of her mind it registered that it sounded different than the police siren. Ambulance. An abrupt bump sent a searing shot of pain through her entire body and she heard herself moan. Hands grasped her arm, and then pressure built around her biceps for a few moments before it eased again. Something stuck her arm, a quick pinch.

Another voice, or maybe it was the same one. “Rescue Five en route with a thirty-three year old female, motor vehicle accident. Head injury, loss of consciousness on scene, semi-conscious now. Blood pressure eighty over fifty-five, we are treating for shock.” The man’s voice drifted away.

A strong jolt. She bounced, and the jarring to her body made her head feel like it might explode. The jerking stopped and she was moving again. Backward. Urgent voices from every direction competed for attention.

“Head trauma…”

“Closed tibia fracture…”

“Possible rib fracture…”

She tried to open her eyes to see what was going on, but the world spun and she closed them again immediately.

“One, two, three.”

Devon was lifted briefly. She felt hands all over her. Pressure on her leg. She cried out. Someone called for scissors. Fabric fell away from her shins leaving her legs cold. Her right eye was forced open, then her left, with a bright light blinding each in turn.

A male voice called to her. “Officer James can you hear me?”

She could. Her eyelids flickered as she tried to say yes. But suddenly all motion and sound stopped.

In the quiet, Jessie held her hand as they walked along the beach, content to be together. They stopped and watched in awe as the sun burned a final crimson line along the horizon before disappearing into the water. Devon reached for Jessie, but she drifted away with the ocean breeze. “Devon?” Jessie’s voice sounded uncertain. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m here, Jess.” Devon couldn’t see her through a strange fog that suddenly separated them. Nothing was clear, and she strained to see where Jessie had gone. “I need you.” Her voice sounded frightened and more muffled.

Devon pushed forward, attempting to reach her by following the sound. “Jess?” The thick mist dissolved into a black void.

Beep, beep, beep... Each tone prodded, coaxed her out of the darkness. She fought through the haze that still enveloped her. Soon Devon recognized voices murmuring softly. A hand gently squeezed hers. A feather-light kiss on her forehead was accompanied by the sensation of warm breath on her face.

“Baby, can you hear me?”

She knew that voice. Jessie. Devon clawed her way through the murkiness, determined to find her this time. Her eyes fluttered open. Slowly the world came into focus on Jessie’s face. Tears streamed down her cheeks even as she smiled.

“Welcome back.”

Devon ignored the tubes tethering her. Reaching up with her free hand to touch away Jessie’s tears with her thumb, she croaked, “Jess, please don’t cry.”

“I’m trying,” Jessie’s lip trembled.

Devon’s throat felt as though she’d been gargling with sand. She winced and looked around. “Water?”

Jessie filled a plastic cup and held the straw to her lips. She tried to sit up, but the effort shot a razor sharp pain through her midsection. She groaned.

“Take it easy,” Jessie said in a soothing voice. She picked up a remote control and pressed a button. The bed slowly elevated Devon into a more upright position. Every breath was like a hot blade driving into her side and she closed her eyes against the pain.

“I’ll ring for the nurse.” Jessie fumbled with the remote, then set it down and took Devon’s hand again.

“Thanks.” Devon now recognized the beeping as the monitor next to her bed. The antiseptic smell of the hospital registered. Eyes tightly shut against the pain, she tried to recall how she had gotten here. An accident? She remembered setting out flares on the road— nothing else came to mind. She opened her eyes again. Jessie looked worried and Devon managed a weak smile for her.

A stout woman, probably in her mid-thirties, appeared a few moments later. She wore burgundy scrubs and a pleasant smile. A stethoscope with electric blue tubing hung around her neck. “It’s about time you woke up,” she teased as she injected something into the IV line. “You’ll feel relief fairly quickly. Once I’m sure that you’re not having any nausea, then we’ll be able to give you oral medications. Probably after dinner, if you hold that down.”

Devon looked back at Jessie. “How long have I been here?”

“Almost twenty-four hours.”

“A whole day?”

The nurse jumped in. “Nothing to be worried about. You’ve actually been in and out. You took a pretty good knock on the head. We’ve been keeping a close eye on you, in case of any swelling to the brain. So far, everything looks good. You suffered a medium-grade concussion. Now that you’re awake, that means you’re progressing very well.” She smiled and patted Devon’s shoulder. “We all hope they catch the jerk who did this. Now, you have some other visitors waiting in the hallway. One says she’s your partner, and the dark dreamy one is wearing a flight suit.” She fanned herself dramatically. “I’ll send them in if that’s okay?”

Devon nodded. She grinned when her friends appeared in the doorway. “Come here.” She struggled to sit up further, but grimaced and sank immediately back onto the pillow.

Stephanie and Mac stepped to the side of the bed across from Jessie. Mac gave Devon’s other hand a gentle squeeze while Jessie adjusted the pillow for her.

“You had us a little scared, Dev,” Steph said. “Of course we knew that your head is much too hard to injure, so we figured you’d be fine...but ya, know…”

They all laughed together, which caused Devon to cough and grab her midsection when a new round of agony hit her. She breathed haltingly waiting for the spasm to pass. “Don’t make me laugh, Steph,” she managed through gritted teeth.

“Sorry.”

After she recovered, Devon asked, “What happened to me?”

“Yeah.” Mac looked at Steph seriously. “That’s what I’d like to know.”

“Some knucklehead wasn’t watching where he was going and creamed you,” Steph said with disgust.

“Christ,” Mac grunted.

Jessie softly stroked her hand, and Devon concentrated on the feeling of her touch, trying to block out the pain that wracked the rest of her body. The nurse was right. The medication was already starting to work. She took a deep breath and looked down, trying to survey the damage. A sling contraption at the end of the bed held her left leg suspended about a foot, and a plaster cast encased her leg from mid-thigh. She already knew she must have at least one broken rib by the feel of it, and her head still throbbed dully. Reaching up to scratch an itch on her forehead, she discovered a bandage there as well. She frowned.

“You have fifteen staples in your head,” Jessie said.

“That explains the pounding.”

“Do you remember anything that happened, Dev?” Mac’s expression was equal parts concern and anger.

Devon shook her head carefully, not wanting to unleash a new round of throbbing. “Just that we were at an accident scene. Steph was there.”

Stephanie picked up the conversation. “We had just secured the area after fire rescue arrived. You were setting out some more flares on the shoulder. Next thing ya know, this freakin’ nut driving a Mercedes smashes into you. I ran in that direction and tried to get the tag, but he hauled ass up onto the expressway. Then, we had to help you.” She gave Devon a dejected look.

Jessie said, “I was driving into work and heard the alert go out for a black Mercedes SL, white male driver” Her voice wavered. “When I got to the station and found out the car had hit you.” She shuddered. “I didn’t know what to do. I was terrified. Lu brought me straight to the ER.”

Devon tightened her grip on Jessie’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Mac started talking again, but the drugs were working, and Devon floated away, the sound of her friends’ voices comforting in the distance. She gave up the struggle to keep her eyes open.

Jessie said something and then, “Rest now.”

Devon closed her eyes and breathed slowly, feeling only a small twinge with each push of her diaphragm. Really good stuff that nurse had given her. After a few minutes, exhaustion claimed her again, and she drifted off to sleep.

HOURS LATER, NATE poked his head through the doorway. “Can anyone join this party?”

“Depends,” Devon said. “Did you bring beer?”

He smacked his forehead. “Damn, I knew I forgot something.”

“Slacker,” Devon mumbled.

Jessie said, “Hi, Nate.” She rose gave Nate a tight hug.

“How ya doing, sweetie?” he asked her.

“I’m fine, just thankful she’s all right.” She glanced at Devon. “I’m going to check with the nurse about your pain meds.”

He nodded at Mac, who stood by the window, but his grin faded to apprehension as he approached the bed. “Shit. You took a helluva beating, bud.”

“You always know just the right thing to say.” Devon shifted her weight in the bed and groaned. Her fractured leg was competing with her ribs and head for attention. Her entire body, even the uninjured parts, hurt. She closed her eyes. Her aching leg and the clinical surroundings reminded her of the military hospital after they’d airlifted her out of Beirut to have the bullets surgically removed from her leg and arm. This time, the doctor said the injury was a clean break, and he was hopeful that it wouldn’t be complicated by the previous damage to her knee. The only question was if her knee had been re-injured, but they wouldn’t know that until the cast came off.

The upside was that another scar on that already messed up leg wouldn’t really be noticeable.

The downside was that she was going to be out of commission for weeks, just when they were getting somewhere on the car theft investigation and Honeycutt’s involvement. Then there was always the fear of whether this type of injury would affect her return to the SWAT team. She pushed down the knot of anxiety building inside, refusing to consider any negative outcome.

Nate patted Devon’s arm before going across the room to the window. “How’s she doing?”

“Better now that she’s conscious. Doc says a couple of days for observation, then she can go home.”

“Careful talking about me, I can still hear you,” Devon said. Her friends laughed.

“That’s good, Dev.” Nate sighed with relief. “I came by to tell you that they recovered the car.” The revelation made Devon open her eyes.

Mac brightened. “An arrest?”

“Not what we need. Two kids from the projects joy-riding.”

“So, where did they get the car?” she snapped.

“They said some white guy traded it to them for a couple of rocks.”

Mac paced in a circle. “What the fuck, Nate? What about the tag?”

He scrubbed the top of his head, where his hair stood up like the bristles on a shoe brush. “Nothing. No registration and the VIN plates were removed. Looked like it was professionally cloned. They towed it to the police impound lot. Sinclair will have the crime lab process it ASAP.”

“Damn,” she said softly and then turned to Devon. “I’ve been thinking about the call in the wire room. We talked a little about this earlier before you fell asleep. I think the car that hit you is also the one that we heard Roy talking about on the wire. Remember? He told the unknown guy to pick up the black Mercedes?”

Devon did remember that. “Yeah, that’s right. What does Kelsey think?”

“She agrees. Problem is, we hadn’t gotten a report on one being stolen. Now with this recovery, maybe we’ll get somewhere.”

“At least I can still help with the wire. I just need to get out of here.” Devon tried unsuccessfully to sit up.

Mac gave her a stern look. “What you need to do is rest. We’ll keep you up to date on everything that’s going on, I promise. Right now, I need a cup of coffee and you need to sleep.” To Nate she said, “Steph took a walk. Let’s track her down and get Jessie and go to the cafeteria.”

Devon thought about protesting, but the truth was, she did want to sleep. She let herself relax, only to be roused by the sound of Jessie yelling from the hallway.

“Hey buddy! Stop! Mac, help!”

Mac and Nate charged from the room. Devon heard the sounds of them thundering down the hall shouting as they went. She mashed the call button for the nurse, desperate to know what was happening. It seemed like an eternity before a bewildered-looking hospital security guard entered the room clutching his radio.

“What’s going on?” Devon demanded.

“Umm...” He stopped to listen to his walkie-talkie. The static-filled transmission indicated that a security breach had occurred.

Before he could answer any of Devon’s questions, Mac burst back into the room with a look of barely controlled fury on her face, a panicked Jessie on her heels. Mac grabbed the security guard by the collar, shoving her badge into his face.

“Sergeant McKinley, Tampa P.D,” she barked at him. “How many exits are on this floor?”

“Uh…” the guard stammered, “half a dozen, at least.”

“Damn!” She took a deep breath to gather her composure. “Listen. I want you to get all of your people to as many exits as you can. We’re looking for a white male, late twenties, brown hair, kind of scruffy looking. He’s wearing a blue work shirt. He is not to leave the building. Understood?”

The man nodded mutely, then exited the room speaking into his radio.

Mac punched a number into her cell phone and paced. “Nate? You got anything?” She listened, obviously irritated by what he was saying. “Tell Steph to get back here to Devon’s room. Tell her not to leave until I can get someone to assign a uniform to her. Meet me in the lobby and we’ll decide what to do next.”

“Can somebody explain what’s going on?” Devon said impatiently.

When the head nurse appeared in the doorway Jessie rounded on her. She pointed toward the hall. “What did that man want?” she demanded. The nurse hesitated. Jessie yelled this time. “What did he want?”

“He wanted to know if Corporal James had any visitors.” The nurse looked at them wide-eyed. “Is there something wrong?”

“Jessie? What’s going on?” Devon asked again.

“The guy we fought with a couple of weeks ago. It was him. What would he be doing here?” Jessie was breathing hard, her anxiety level showing.

“Jessie, slow down.” Mac placed a hand on her shoulder. “The guy you arrested was the one in the hall?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m positive. Vincent Honeycutt. He even had a cast on his arm.”

Mac glanced at Devon. “That’s a problem. You didn’t tell her yet, did you?”

“Tell me what?” Jessie asked.

Devon sighed. “I wanted to keep you out of this. I didn’t know he would go this far.” She patted the bed next to her. “Come and sit. I’ve got some things to tell you.”

“All right,” Mac said. “This certainly casts a whole new light on the situation. If the driver was Vincent, then we’re looking for more than just a hit-and-run driver. This is now the attempted murder of a cop. I’m going to make some more calls and see what’s going on with the search. I’ll be back after I meet Nate and we make sure this place is locked down.” Mac pulled the door closed as she left.

Jessie sat on the bed and Devon linked their fingers together in her lap. The fear in Jessie’s eyes tore at her heart. “I’m sorry,” Devon said after a long silence.

“For what?”

“I should have told you about Honeycutt. It’s just that I thought—no, I hoped that I was wrong.” She remembered General Guthrie, her mentor while in the military. He’d always said, “Hope is not a course of action, Devon.” He was never wrong.

Jessie tapped her hand gently. “Who is he?”

Devon thought about how she could tell Jessie about Honeycutt without getting into the whole ugly mess, including Jillian and even Alex’s death. Before the SWAT school, it would have been easier to explain everything to Jessie because it was all in the past. And it was the past. Even Jillian. Only now Honeycutt was threatening all of them, not just Devon. On top of that, Jillian was here again—sort of. Obviously Mac was interested, so they were going to be seeing a lot of each other. She knew she would have to tell Jessie everything, and soon. But she didn’t have the strength for all of that today. She opted for the Cliffs Notes version.

“Vincent Honeycutt’s father investigated my ex-lover and me when we were in the army. He ended up going a little nuts. After he was caught falsifying records to have me arrested, he was convicted and dishonorably discharged. He killed himself. It’s possible his son is on a revenge mission.”

“You were arrested?” Jessie looked stunned.

“Yes. For being a lesbian.” Jessie squeezed her hand, reminding Devon of the good things about her life now. “It was a horrible experience. But you don’t have to worry about that. It was a long time ago.”

“I will always worry about whatever hurts you.”

Devon raised their joined hands and kissed the back of Jessie’s. “Thanks. I really will tell you the details soon.”

Twenty minutes later, the hospital was locked down and police were conducting a floor-by-floor search. A uniformed officer was posted outside of Devon’s door with instructions to let only properly identified hospital or police personnel to enter. The search took over two hours to complete.

Mac and Nate met back at Devon’s room at the conclusion of the search. “Goddamn,” Mac groused. “How the hell did he get out of the building so fast?”

“He had his exit planned before he even came in, more than likely,” Nate said. “He was probably in the parking lot before you and Jessie got to the lobby.”

“You’re probably right,” Mac grudgingly agreed.

Kelsey Sinclair strode through the door carrying a stack of flyers. “I’ve got an all-points bulletin out for Honeycutt. I’ve already got his ugly mug on flyers.” Her gaze swept the room and settled on the sight of Jessie sitting with Devon on the bed, their hands clasped tightly together. She rolled her eyes. “Nice to see you again, Officer Kilbride.”

“Hello, Detective.”

Devon ignored Kelsey’s sly grin. “Any sign of him, Kelse?”

“Not yet. We’re going to hit Roy’s place with a search warrant tomorrow at first light.”

“Have you been out to Honeycutt’s apartment?” Devon asked.

Kelsey frowned. “Yep. We just left there. It’s empty. Not a damned trace of him.”

“What about the car?”

“Clean. He’s definitely not stupid.”

“So what the hell do we have?” The frustration in Mac’s voice was mirrored on every face in the room.

Kelsey sighed and set the flyers on a chair. “On Honeycutt? Nothing. I’m hoping the search warrant will give us something, and we’re still running the wire. I went back out to hit up my snitches in the projects, since we had a bit of a lead with the robbery vehicles. I was hoping for a break. Instead, the activists who hate the police are calling ‘Mercedes Man’ a hero for taking the murdering cop off the street when the police department refused.” Her eyes narrowed. “Apparently, the facts of the case do not matter.”

“They never do,” Nate muttered.

“But, IA cleared you,” Jessie protested. “It wasn’t your fault. What’s wrong with people?”

Devon said, “It’s just the ignorant folks ranting, Jess. Don’t worry about it. It’ll all blow over.” Jessie’s bewildered expression gave Devon pause. Clearly, Jessie still maintained much of the innocence of most new officers, and Devon winced, wondering how long before the lessons of the street would harden her. In her own case Devon knew that the process had begun well before she ever entered the police academy. That virtue, that innocence, in Jessie was a large part of her charm, and Devon hated knowing she would become jaded with each negative experience.

“She’s right, Jessie,” Kelsey said. “And another thing, let’s not forget, Mercedes man might be their hero for the moment, but he’s not one of them. I’ll keep working my sources. Someone will talk. We’ve formally set up a wire on Roy’s business and his cell. If Vincent is his man—and I’m betting he is—he’ll call in. He’ll need cash, so he’ll need work. We just have to be patient.”

“I want to help,” Jessie said.

“Oh, no,” Devon told her. “There’s no way you’re getting anywhere near this.”

Defiant, Jessie said, “Too late for that line of thinking, wouldn’t you say?”

“Jess—”

“Stop, you two,” Mac cut in. “Jessie, I think Devon’s right. Honeycutt already knows what you look like, so there’s no way you could help, even in plain clothes.” She eyed Devon. “Both of you let us take care of this for now. You need to get well, Dev.”

Kelsey scooped the stack of flyers off the chair. “I agree.” She smiled at Devon and then cocked her head toward the door. “Time to go. I’ll need you for air support, McKinley. Nate, how ’bout you round up a few of your jarhead buddies for our little soirée? Let’s go show Roy an impressive display of police muscle.”

“Let me know what you find out.” Devon said. Sitting in this hospital room while her friends were out tracking this madman would have her climbing the walls in no time. “Be safe, guys.”

Mac winked at her. “Piece of cake.”

Chapter Sixteen

“WHAT ARE YOU doing out here?” Mac’s tone was unmistakably harsh.

Devon shifted the crutches to her right, carefully executing her three-point turn in the hallway to face her friend. “I had to get out of that room. I was going insane.”

“Too late.” Mac’s eyes twinkled.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I’ve been all over this floor looking for you. It kind of defeats the purpose of the guard at the door if you aren’t in the room.”

“I just went around the corner. The doc said it was good for me to move if I felt up to it. Walk back with me.” Devon began crutching back in the direction of her room.

“Any word on when you’re getting out of here?”

“I’m waiting for the doc to come by today. My nurse said he’d be making rounds after lunch. With any luck I’ll be in my own bed tonight.” Devon smiled at the woman behind the counter as they passed the nurse’s station. She turned her attention back to Mac. “So? The search warrant was two days ago, and all I’ve heard is a lot of nothing. Jessie says everything’s been quiet over on Broadway—and you can imagine how comforting it is to know she’s been poking around over there.”

Mac offered a sympathetic sound and stepped aside for a woman pushing a six-foot-high metal cart filled with food trays. When Mac didn’t answer, Devon pressed, “What’s the deal?”

Mac glanced sideways at her. “You already know we got nothing at the shop. Kelsey confiscated a bunch of Roy’s files, but we didn’t find any stolen cars or altered VINs.”

“Nothing?”

“Nope. It was almost like they knew we were coming. The place was too clean. In fact, there was only one car up on a lift. Roy said they just shipped a load to the scrap yard. Coincidentally, of course. Kelsey thinks that maybe he’s got access to another lot or to a shop for storage. His boy going rogue on him and targeting you might have scared him into laying low.”

“What about Honeycutt’s place or the car?”

“The car had some prints, but not Honeycutt’s. The crime lab is still holding out hope with some fibers and hair. Zero at the apartment. As a matter of fact, we think he’s gone. The place looks completely deserted. The landlord was no help whatsoever. He said the fucker skipped out without paying his last month’s rent. Since he isn’t from here, it’s not like we have anywhere to begin looking for him. Driver’s license info is a dead end. The Maryland DL he had was suspended five years ago, and his last known address is Florida State Prison at Starke.”

Devon felt her chest constricting with the prospect of Honeycutt lurking beneath the radar, moving with impunity. The fact that he owned the element of surprise gave her an eerie, helpless feeling. “What’s Kelsey’s next move?”

“She says we work the wire. Also, she got approval for more surveillance on Roy’s place.”

Devon scowled. “In other words, we wait.”

“You know that’s how it is sometimes, Dev. We’re all as frustrated as you are, but something will give.” She held open the door of Devon’s room. “Right now, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Devon moved past her through the doorway and stopped short.

“There you are.” Jillian pushed off the windowsill she’d been leaning against across the room. Her skin had a tanned luster, and Devon realized that Mac had obviously spent some time in the sun as well. “Hope you don’t mind my dropping in.”

Devon eased onto the bed, mindful of her ribs. “Not at all.” The most surprising part was how good it felt to know that Jillian cared enough to come. “How are you?”

“That’s what I’m supposed to be asking you.” Jillian approached the bed and reached out as though she wanted to hug Devon, but hesitated. Her eyes wandered over Devon’s frame, assessing the damage perhaps.

“I won’t break.” Devon held out her arm and Jillian took the invitation to wrap her arms carefully around Devon’s shoulders, giving a firm squeeze. They held on longer than necessary, or maybe the connection was something they both needed, Devon wasn’t sure. Jill released her and stepped back. Mac helped prop a few pillows behind Devon’s back before moving next to Jillian and dropping an arm around her shoulder. A few seconds of awkward silence stretched between them, and Devon couldn’t help wondering what was on Jill’s mind.

Thankfully, Mac broke the silence. “I brought Jill up to speed on what’s happening with the investigation.”

Jillian stared squarely at Devon. “I never thought I’d hear that guy’s name again. This is like a nightmare that won’t go away.”

Devon watched the fear and anger play across Jillian’s features, remembering all too well the devastating way the senior Honeycutt’s actions had affected Jill—and how she’d reacted. She glanced at Mac and dread crept up her spine. How would Jillian respond now? Would she bolt? Devon wondered if she was unfairly assuming the worst. Mac kissed Jill’s cheek. Jillian turned to face her with an expression nothing short of adulation. Devon relaxed a little. After all, her assumptions about Jillian were based on behavior that was ancient history. She forced her anxiety away.

“This is completely different,” Jillian said. “Honeycutt senior was vindictive, but his purpose was to destroy our careers and reputations. Junior is taking this to a whole new level. He tried to kill you, Devon.” Her body was tense with anger. “He’s gone too far this time. His father did enough damage in our lives. I don’t intend to let this asshole win. He might believe he’s got the upper hand right now but we’re not inexperienced easy targets anymore. He can bring his A game and it still won’t be good enough.”

Devon’s met her gaze with silent understanding. If Vincent wanted to finish waging his father’s war against them, so be it.

Mac laughed. “I wouldn’t want to be Junior when the two toughest SWAT chicks I know unleash a can of whoop-ass on him.” Jillian grinned and gave Mac a peck on the cheek.

“First, we’ve gotta find him.” Devon felt the familiar frustration building in her gut. “And how the hell am I supposed to help when I’m all gimped up?”

“No doubt he’ll be laying low for a while,” Jillian said. “This might be a good time for us all to compare notes and see what we’ve got in common with the auto thefts. I’ll check with my detectives and see if they’re working anything similar. If I recall, we’ve had a few high-end cars listed on our daily hot sheet. If the roads lead to shipments in Miami, and they’re moving that much merchandise, then Orlando isn’t a stretch. We’re only eighty miles apart. Manny Garcia is our auto theft sergeant and an old friend. I’m sure he’ll want to help out.”

“That’s a good idea. Kelsey probably knows your guy.” Mac picked up the folders lying on the chair against the far wall and brought them over to the bed. She handed the stack to Devon. “In the meantime, I smuggled out some files for you, Dev. I figured you needed something to occupy your mind. This way, you can still feel connected to what’s going on, and I know Kelsey would appreciate any ideas you come up with.”

Devon rifled through the pages. “What’s all this?”

“Kelsey compiled all of the incident reports on the auto thefts and related information from the last couple of months. She’s hoping your fresh eyes will find something that she’s missed. I happen to know that you’re brilliant at sifting data and coming up with angles that nobody else recognized. I’ve always wondered why you stay on the street instead of moving to the detective division. You are a natural at that shit.” She looked at Jillian. “You should have seen the way this NSA wiz kid deciphered signals and fit the pieces of the intelligence puzzle together back in the day.”

Jillian gave Devon an admiring glance mixed with a touch of angst.

“That was a long time ago,” Devon said. “But this will give me something to do. Thanks, Mac.”

“Sure thing.” Mac moved to the side of the bed. “You need anything before we go? I’ve got to get Jill back to my place to pick up her car.”

“I have to work this afternoon,” Jillian added. She watched Devon for a few moments, looking as though she wanted to say more, but remained silent. Moving closer, she slipped her hand onto Devon’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Glad you’re okay.”

Devon patted her hand. “Thanks for coming.”

Jillian turned to Mac. “Ready?” They headed for the door, with Mac promising to check in again the next day.

When her friends had gone, Devon opened the folder and sifted through the contents. Kelsey was thorough, if nothing else. She set four files out on the bed, arranging them in date order left to right, and picked up the one from a few months back. Cars had begun disappearing downtown, but at first they appeared to be random, unrelated incidents. Nobody had thought to connect them. Those were the cases Devon wanted to review first. They had originally gotten the least amount of scrutiny, so it stood to reason that was where some evidence might have been missed.

Devon thought about the scope of the entire operation. The rate of theft started at a couple each week and was now near a dozen in the same timeframe. It was possible that a guy like Honeycutt could do that, but she was betting he was farming out some of the work. Kelsey had said kids from the projects were arrested in a couple of cases. She grabbed her leather tote from next to the bed and rummaged through to find a pen and pad. Shuffling through the reports, she came across an arrest affidavit on two juveniles charged with burglary of a residence. Several items later recovered from the kids’ residences couldn’t be tied to property taken from those crimes. Devon made a note to check the recovered merchandise against the remaining auto burglary and auto theft reports. Maybe there was a link.

“Knock, knock.”

Devon raised her eyes to see Detective Johnson stroll in.

“How’s my favorite corporal today?”

She wondered why the hell Johnson was here. Whatever business he had couldn’t be good. She didn’t know this guy well enough for his visit to be personal, and a surprise visit from IAB automatically set her defenses to high alert.

“I’m your favorite corporal?” She snorted. “My bullshit meter is reading off the chart right now.”

He waved his hand in the air. “Whatever. How are you doing, Devon?”

“I’m good, Detective. Thanks for coming by.” She tried to sound sincere when really she wished he were anywhere but in her room. Devon closed the folder closest to her and tried to nonchalantly push the stack aside. Too late. He had already surveyed everything spread out in front of her. It wasn’t exactly proper procedure for an injured street corporal to have files on an active investigation, but if Johnson recognized the files, he didn’t let on.

“So what brings you here today?” Devon asked.

“Would you believe I came bearing good news?”

“Good news for you or for me?”

He laughed at that. “Not the trusting sort, are you, Devon?”

She lifted a shoulder and waited.

“I went back out to your shooting scene last week to have another look around. I was thinking about the lighting. You said he fired at you and it’s always bugged me where the bullet went. You said the tree could have been blocking the streetlight. Well, I walked off the measurements to approximate where you and the kid were standing. According to the crime scene notes, the spot the kid was standing in relation to your position didn’t add up. I mean didn’t line up, more to the point.”

Devon wondered where he was going but kept quiet. She poured herself a cup of water from a Styrofoam pitcher.

Johnson went on, becoming more animated. “I cross-checked the report against the original notes from the scene and bingo! I found it. One of the measurements was misprinted. It said five feet from the fence line, when it should have been fifteen. He was fifteen feet from the fence. So, I paced it off and that put the large oak tree behind you from his position.” He was nearly gushing now. “The tree, Devon. The tree that blocked the light was behind you. You stepped to the right as he fired. I dug a bullet out of that tree trunk. It was up fairly high, so that’s why nobody noticed it. Ballistics confirmed it was a nine millimeter.”

“That’s great, but it doesn’t mean much, does it? We can’t prove anything unless we find the kid’s gun.”

“True, but now we have physical evidence that we can test when we do find it. Plus, I had forensics take more measurements, and I’m confident that the angle is correct from where the kid was standing that night. It’s not conclusive, but it’s better than nothing.”

Devon had to admit he was right about that. She’d take anything, circumstantial or not, to support her version of the events. Replaying the scene over and over in her mind, she saw the muzzle flash from the gun in front of her, but when they hadn’t found anything, even she questioned her memory. At least now she could let go of that doubt.

She held her hand out to Johnson. “Thanks for taking the extra time to check that out, and for coming here to let me know.”

He shook her hand. “Just doing my job. The shoot team’s investigation will remain open until they find the gun, but I’m recommending closure of the IA portion of things. The State Attorney agrees. No violation of policy on your part.”

“That is good news,” Devon said.

“You look tired. I’m going to get out of here so you can rest. Take care.”

Devon watched him go and then leaned back in the bed. Between her morning walk, Jillian’s unexpected appearance, and the visit from Johnson, she was pretty worn out, but found she was too keyed up to sleep. The unexpected good fortune in the IA investigation meant she’d be able to move past the stigma of the shooting—at least that was the idea. With all of the Honeycutt mess going on, Devon was glad to have one less worry on her plate. Now, if only the kid’s gun would turn up. Fat chance, though. That thing was probably at the bottom of the Hillsborough River by now.

The phone next to her bed rang. When she answered, there was silence at the other end of the line. “Hello,” Devon repeated, this time receiving a click followed by a dial tone. She set the phone back on the cradle and frowned, looking around the room. The daily bustle of the hospital continued in the hall. She leaned forward slightly until she saw the edge of the officer’s shoulder patch in her doorway. A muted ding sounded, followed by an intercom request for a doctor in the recovery ward. Everything seemed normal.

The call could have been a misdial.

But Devon knew it wasn’t.

Chapter Seventeen

“HELLO, BEAUTIFUL.” JESSIE breezed into the room, bright as the afternoon sun. A faded green jersey with a white, weathered number eight at the center hugged her upper body, showing off her figure. Devon felt the familiar flutter in her stomach. After three days in the hospital, she was starting to get a little stir crazy. Jessie’s visits had been confined to the mornings before work the previous two days, but today she was off. She held a single red rose in her hand and presented it to her before planting a long, full kiss on her lips that sent Devon’s heart rate soaring.

“Mmm. Wow,” Devon said lazily. “If they packaged your power, all drugs would be obsolete.”

Jessie smoothed the hair back from Devon’s brow. She ran her thumb lightly along the row of sutures from Devon’s right temple to her hairline. “How’s your head?”

“I think the headache’s finally gone for good, and I haven’t had spots in my vision for the last couple of days. I’m ready to get out of here.”

Jessie pressed a kiss to her forehead. “That’s good to hear.” She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing Devon momentarily, before breaking into a smile. “You’re right. I can see the sharpness back in those baby blues. I’ve missed you.”

Devon’s hand stole up to Jessie’s breast and tweaked her nipple.

Jessie gasped. She gripped Devon’s wandering hand and laughed. “Yeah, you’re better, all right. Behave.”

Devon slipped her palm behind Jessie’s neck and pulled her in for a slow, deep kiss that left them both a little breathless. She got a charge out of seeing the dazed look in Jessie’s eyes and the flush in her skin when she lifted her lips away. Devon’s focus moved from Jessie’s eyes to her lips and back again, as a tingling spread beneath her skin. “Did I do that?” Her hand moved around to the front of Jessie’s throat, her thumb resting on the strong pulse that beat visibly.

“All you.”

“Glad I’m not alone in that.”

The sound of someone clearing his throat snapped Devon out of the trance. Her doctor stood in the doorway holding her chart and x-rays. Jessie blushed and started to move away, but Devon tugged on her hand. “Don’t go.”

“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” Doctor Sullivan said pleasantly. He smiled at the two women as he approached the bed.

Devon sat up eagerly. “Morning, Doc, let’s get to the release.”

“You know, you really are a bad patient.” He raised a bushy eyebrow, pretending anger. “But I guess most of you cops are. Just can’t stand not to be in control.”

Devon feigned a wounded expression. “That’s not nice, Doc.”

“So, I guess you’re going to try to convince me that’s hospital issue?” He pointed to the white t-shirt she was wearing that said Penn State Football in large navy blue letters.

She looked at her shirt. “It fits better.”

“I rest my case. Bad patient.” the doctor repeated. He tugged at her shirt and placed the stethoscope on her chest. “Breathe deeply for me.” Devon flinched slightly as she drew in a breath and she knew the doctor saw it too. “Again.” He moved the metal disc to the other side to listen before lifting the shirt up higher. “Let’s have a look at those ribs.”

She sat up gingerly as he removed the elastic bandage from her mid-section and clenched her jaw when he touched the most sensitive spot along her ribcage. He continued to probe gently around the area, watching her closely. She met his eyes squarely, hoping to convey a silent plea: C’mon, doc, just spring me from here and Jessie will take care of me. The smile Jessie gave her said she was reading those thoughts.

The doctor shined a penlight in each eye. “Any blurred vision?”

“Nope. No headache, either.”

“Good.” He returned the light to his pocket and made a note on her chart before dropping it onto the bed. He took both of her hands. “Squeeze my hands.” She did. He moved to the foot of the bed and pulled the sheet from her legs, placing his hand against the bottom of her uninjured foot. “Push against me. Good.” Again he made more notes. “Devon, your x-rays show that you’re healing up quite well. The sutures in your head are fine, and you don’t have as much tenderness in those ribs. You’re going to be in that cast for another five or six weeks, but somehow I don’t think that will totally slow you down either.”

“So, if the cast comes off in five weeks, then I can get back to work?”

Doctor Sullivan closed the chart and sighed. “I said five or six weeks. We’ll see how it goes. I want to make certain that break is healed properly, given the past injury to your leg. The resulting scar tissue from the bullet wound has already weakened that leg. Also, we’ll have to see whether your knee was affected. I don’t want to rush anything. No promises on recovery time.”

He directed the next comment to Jessie. “Try to convince her to take it easy and give her body the proper time to heal.”

Devon had seen Jessie react to the mention of the bullet wound and squeezed her hand.

The doctor said, “I guess we can get you checked out in a couple of hours.”

Devon groaned. “Hours? Doc, you’re killing me.”

“Keep it up and I’ll change my mind,” he warned her.

“Sorry, Doc, I meant to say thank you so much. You’re the best.” Devon tried to sound as contrite as possible.

“They’ll be in with your paperwork shortly and some instructions for your release. I want to see you for a follow-up visit at my office next week, okay?” He headed for the door.

“Yes, sir,” Devon said as he exited. A wide grin split her face. Home was closer every minute. “That’s great news, huh, Jess?”

“Yes.” Jessie curled up beside Devon on the bed and softly stroked her hair.

“You know that’s my weakness.” Devon closed her eyes and sank into the comfort. Jessie lightly kissed her temple and hummed softly. Devon drifted blissfully. Maybe she could rest a little after all.

Jessie whispered against her cheek, “Sleep. The doctor said a couple of hours. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

SOMETIME AROUND THREE o’clock Jessie guided Devon carefully inside the house. She held the screen door open with her foot, allowing Devon to maneuver her casted left leg over the threshold.

“Are you hungry?” Jessie asked.

“A little.”

Devon looked around, taking in the welcome sight of home. She was pleased to notice that Jessie had undoubtedly spent some time at the house. Several vases of fresh flowers were new additions to the decor, bathing the living room in a sweet aroma. Her eyes roamed over the framed photos, neatly stacked magazines, and a few candles that adorned the mantel and coffee table. Devon disliked clutter and considered knick-knacks intrusions that disturbed clean lines and the simple beauty of the wood, but the candles looked nice.

Leaning on one crutch, she plucked a picture of her sister and nephews from the mantle. Devon had taken the picture the previous summer when Leigh and the boys went to the beach for a vacation. She and her nephews had spent the day building sand castles and chasing each other in the surf, indulging in complete relaxation that was a rarity for Devon. Later, they posed at the ice cream shop, leaning in so that the boys’ little faces framed Leigh’s face, and they all giggled at a shared joke. She smiled at the memory and replaced the frame.

“Remind me to call my sister later?”

“Sure,” Jessie said. “I talked to her yesterday. She called when I was, umm, doing a few things here. She’s really nice.” Jessie still held the bag with Devon’s personal belongings. “Where do you want this stuff?”

“Just drop it in there.” She pointed in the direction of the master bedroom. “I’ll sort it out later. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Devon made her way over to a vase of fresh coral-colored roses and inhaled deeply, remembering childhood walks with her grandmother in the rose garden behind her house.

Jessie moved behind her, placing her hands gently on Devon’s waist. “Do you like the flowers? Leigh told me you loved roses.”

Devon leaned back into her, loving the feel of Jessie’s body against hers. “Mmm, yes. They’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.” Jessie breathed the words into Devon’s ear.

“Oh, yeah, that’s me.” Devon rolled her eyes and pointed to the stitches in her forehead. She thought about the bruises still visible everywhere. “If you’re attracted to bride of Frankenstein.”

“Stop that.” Jessie kissed the tip of Devon’s ear and slipped her arms around Devon’s waist. “You are more beautiful than you will ever know.”

“You sure you’re not the one who took a whack to the skull?” The question earned her a swat on the backside, which only made her grin.

Jessie fixed sandwiches and a fruit salad for a late lunch. “Wow,” Devon said appreciatively. “Thanks, but I know the stuff I had in the fridge must have gone bad.” She took a generous bite of her sandwich and raised an eyebrow at Jessie.

“It’s possible that I might have run by the grocery store yesterday after I left the hospital.”

“This is outstanding. What’s on the sandwich?”

“My special homemade sauce. Dijon mustard-mayo-lime juice with a little garlic and chipotle blend that I like.”

“It’s fantastic, thank you,” Devon said around bites that awakened her taste buds following days of bland hospital food.

“My pleasure.”

Devon could see Jessie thinking, as if she were wondering what to say or how to say it. Finally she said, “I’ve been wondering about something the doctor said. When did you get shot? People at the department love to tell stories. I heard all about the shooting you were involved in a couple months back. All of us rookies were transfixed by your performance that night. But nobody’s ever said anything about you getting shot.”

“It happened when I was in Beirut.” Devon felt her natural defenses trying to close around her, but Jessie’s compassion was soothing and she relaxed.

“How?”

“It was the day of the marine barracks bombing in eighty-three. Mac and I were sent to get supplies and we ran into resistance fighters along the way. I got hit in the arm and leg. I was lucky. We were able to fight them off and Mac got me back to the medics. She saved my life.”

Without warning the memory of lifting Alex’s body into the Jeep came into sharp focus in her mind. She blinked back stinging tears, frustrated with herself for her inability to maintain her composure.

Jessie covered Devon’s hand with her own.

“I lost someone very close to me that day,” Devon finished quietly.

Jessie’s expression fluctuated from shock to admiration to compassion. “Sounds like a nightmare. No wonder you and Mac are so close.” She rubbed her thumb back and forth across the back of Devon’s hand, now thoughtful. “That also explains why you seem so wise beyond your years. You’ve lived through things most people can’t even imagine. I get the feeling you don’t talk about that very often.”

“No, I don’t. I try not to think about it, mostly.” Devon swallowed hard, fighting new tears.

“Thank you for telling me.” Jessie placed her palm on Devon’s cheek.

Devon feared a response would release the flood of emotions she felt pushing to the surface, so she pressed her hand over Jessie’s and stared into her eyes, finding a peaceful respite from the torment of her memories. She marveled at the ease with which Jessie effortlessly slipped past all of her internal defenses. Jessie instinctively understood her in a way that no one else ever had. Nothing was beyond her reach, and everything Jessie touched, she healed.

Jessie traced Devon’s eyebrows with her thumb. “Thank you for understanding,” Devon said. She closed her eyes and Jessie kissed her forehead.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, and then Devon asked, “So, Honeycutt has disappeared?”

“It looks that way.” Jessie grew obviously frustrated. “I’ve taken a few trips out to the duplex where we arrested him. No sign of him. All we know for sure is the recovered car is the one that hit you. Hair and blood samples from the hood are yours.” She shuddered.

“It’s okay.” Devon reached out to cup Jessie’s cheek and ran her thumb along Jessie’s cheekbone. “I still owe him for punching you during that arrest.” Devon couldn’t keep the venom out of her voice as she thought of the bastard hurting Jessie.

“Detective Sinclair placed an active pickup for him. He needs to answer for running you down.”

“He will.” Knowing that her team and her friends were going after Honeycutt was heartening and frustrating at the same time. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to be on that entry team the other day.”

“I’m glad you weren’t. As a victim of his, how could you be objective?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m not thinking about what he did to me.” Devon’s expression darkened. “He’s gotta pay for hurting you. Anyway, they came up empty, so the game’s still on.”

“Tell me about his connection to you. You said his father was investigating you when you were in the service?”

“Yeah. His dad was in criminal investigations. He was on his own personal crusade to rid the army of lesbians and gays, I guess. My first lover was forced out and then he focused on me. When I got back from Beirut, he was on my tail again. Back then there was no Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy. They didn’t need any statements or admissions. Just the fact that you were talking to someone who they suspected of being a lesbian was good enough for someone like Honeycutt. Like I told you, I was arrested, but I was lucky enough to have some help. My ex-commander, a couple of NCOs who were MPs, and of course, Mac.” She grinned.

“What happened to her?”

“Who?”

“Your girlfriend.”

Devon pulled in a deep breath. “After she left the army, I never heard from her again—until recently. Damndest thing. She was one of the instructors at the SWAT school.”

“Really?” Jessie’s expression tightened. “You never said anything.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” She watched Jessie, trying to figure out how to explain. For the second time since SWAT school, she felt like an ass for not coming clean about Jillian. She brightened at the realization that the answer was simple, really. Devon wanted Jessie. Nothing else mattered and she had to make that clear. “Her name is Jillian, and it shocked us both to run into each other. The reunion was kind of crazy, but no sparks rekindled, Jess.” When Jessie didn’t respond, Devon said, “Would it make you feel better to know that she’s dating Mac?”

Jessie gave her a puzzled look. “What? Does Mac know who she is?”

“She didn’t before the school, but she does now. I know it’s kind of crazy, but it really has nothing to do with you and me.” She dipped her head to catch Jessie’s eye. “I didn’t want to say anything because I wanted to concentrate on getting to know you. Talking about my ex probably wasn’t the best topic for our first date.” She was pleased when the corner of Jessie’s mouth quirked upward. Devon leaned forward until her face was inches from Jessie’s. “I didn’t want my past to screw up the present. Since then, honestly, you have completely captivated me.” She closed the remaining inches to kiss Jessie thoroughly. Jessie pushed her fingers into Devon’s hair. As the kiss deepened, Devon felt her arousal flare. She pulled Jessie onto her lap, working her way down Jessie’s throat with her mouth.

“I could kiss you forever,” she said against Jessie’s skin.

Jessie placed a hand on her chest and eased back, her eyes flaming emeralds that held Devon transfixed. Her stomach flipped when Jessie said, “I’d let you.” Jessie gave her another mind-blowing kiss that turned Devon’s insides to liquid.

Finally, Jessie pulled away and stood. “We have to stop. You need to rest, and I need to get a grip on myself.”

“But—” Devon tried to pull her back.

“C’mon.” Jessie took Devon’s hand and led her into the bedroom.

Devon didn’t want to admit that a nap sounded good, although making out with Jessie sounded better.

Between the cast and her sore ribs, it was like a wrestling match getting her out of her clothes. Jessie suggested that they forgo any sleeping attire for now and Devon gratefully slid into the cool sheets. Jessie lit candles and pulled down the shade to block out the sunlight, before adjusting the air conditioner for maximum sleeping comfort. Devon relaxed in the warmth of her own bed as Jessie softly stroked her hair. She struggled to stay awake, wanting to feel every wonderful moment that Jessie touched her, but soon she was lulled into sleep.

The aroma of baked chicken and fresh bread coaxed Devon from her slumber hours later, and her stomach growled noisily. She lay contemplating the peacefulness of her surroundings. The heavenly scent emanating from her kitchen reminded her that she was not alone. Her heart skipped a beat, her mind conjuring a welcome image of the gorgeous woman on the other side of the house preparing what smelled like a tantalizing meal. With Jessie under her roof, Devon could only grin to herself, allowing the sensations of warmth and genuine comfort to flow through her body. A thought popped into her head: Could Jessie make a home with me? Devon closed her eyes, wrapping her mind around that thought. She’d been lonely for so long.

She drifted back to sleep wondering if Jessie was too good to be true.

Still in a semi-conscious dream state, she sensed Jessie’s presence. Quietly, Jessie crossed the room, making her way around the bed, where she carefully crawled in beside Devon. She felt Jessie’s gaze upon her and fought the urge to open her eyes. The air conditioner kicked on, sending a shot of cold air across the bed, and immediately her exposed skin prickled, her nipples tightening. Jessie inhaled deeply. Devon felt the heat of Jessie’s body along her side, smelled Jessie’s perfume, and her pulse kicked up a notch in response. Jessie lightly caressed the bare skin of Devon’s shoulder and down her arm.

Devon concentrated on remaining still. Jessie’s touch slowed to trace the scar that ran from Devon’s left shoulder back along her triceps, marking the path of the insurgent’s bullet in Beirut. She stopped there, rubbing her fingers lightly on the area, as if wanting to memorize its texture. Normally, Devon was self-conscious about her scars, but somehow Jessie’s touch was universally soothing and she floated in the sensation. Jessie drew a path across her shoulder towards her breast, detouring briefly to draw circles around Devon’s nipple that rapidly stiffened.

Slowly awakening beneath Jessie’s touch, Devon smiled, feeling the caresses firing every synapse in her body. Her blood hummed through her veins and her heartbeat sounded like thunder in her ears. Loving the feel of Jessie’s hands on her skin, she kept her eyes closed, reveling in the sensation.

She slid her hand under Jessie’s t-shirt to stroke the softness of her skin. Jessie sighed a soft satisfied sound and leaned into her touch. Devon opened her eyes and gazed at her dreams made real.

“Hello, there,” Jessie purred seductively. She kissed the corner of Devon’s mouth and resumed the teasing strokes across Devon’s chest.

“Beautiful,” Devon breathed, insinuating her hand further beneath the fabric of Jessie’s shirt to catch the tip of Jessie’s nipple between her fingers. Jessie sucked in a short breath in response, and a tingle danced along Devon’s spine.

Jessie, with the advantage of mobility, removed her shorts and carefully straddled Devon’s hips. She pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it aside, revealing her firm breasts and flat tanned stomach. Devon’s eyes roamed the length of Jessie’s body, lingering where the small circle of her navel punctuated well-developed abs. A shot of desire pushed through her veins. The need to touch Jessie was overpowering.

“I can’t believe you’re here like this.” Devon reached up and touched Jessie’s cheek, then brushed the pad of her thumb lightly over her bottom lip. She searched Jessie’s face, always captivated by her beauty. “You okay? I know you said—”

In answer, Jessie opened her lips and touched her tongue to Devon’s thumb. Devon’s entire body twitched. Jessie wrapped her lips around Devon’s thumb and sucked it further into her mouth, while Devon stared in fascination. With an alluring smile, Jessie placed a moist kiss on Devon’s palm.

Devon watched Jessie’s gaze drag down the length of her torso to the point where Jessie straddled her hips. When their eyes met again, Devon trembled. The raw desire in Jessie’s eyes reminded her of the sea during a raging storm. She leaned forward and placed her hands on either side of Devon’s head, her lips hovering inches away. Devon started to kiss her tempting mouth but Jessie pulled back.

“Wait,” she whispered. The little quirk at the corner of her mouth was about the sexiest thing Devon had ever seen. Jessie bent to capture a nipple between her lips. Her tongue teased and she nibbled as Devon moaned and drew a shaky breath. She held the back of Jessie’s head, reveling in the pleasure. Jessie sucked harder, igniting a fire in Devon’s center.

After lavishing equal attention on both breasts, Jessie raised up to look at Devon with a wild sexy look that destroyed any thought of restraint. Jessie’s breasts stood proudly before her, and Devon hungrily took one into her mouth, skillfully working the nipple with her tongue until she heard Jessie’s breathing escape in soft gasps. Jessie’s slick wetness coated her stomach serving as a silent invitation that burned through every cell in Devon’s body.

“Please let me touch you.” The quiet reverence in Devon’s voice was like a prayer.

A cry somewhere between a plea and a sob was all Jessie could manage to choke in response. She lifted her hips, offering herself, and Devon did not hesitate.

The sensations of that first touch made Devon’s head spin. Her fingers slid along Jessie’s slick, ready flesh, and Jessie responded by rocking against her hand. Her wetness flowed unchecked, coating Devon’s fingers and pooling in her palm. It was the most glorious feeling Devon had ever experienced.

Jessie’s body was warm and welcoming and so very wonderful that Devon forgot all the reasons why she didn’t deserve this. Why real emotional relationships with depth always meant disaster. Why Jessie deserved better than the mottled heart she had to offer. She watched Jessie’s eyes glaze over with pleasure and ignored the pain in her ribs. The need to make love to Jessie eclipsed any other feeling.

Jessie reversed her position, knees on either side of Devon’s head, straddling her. Jessie moved between Devon’s legs and she opened her hips wider, affording full access. She nearly lost control at the first touch of Jessie’s tongue. Grasping Jessie’s hips, she pulled her down to bury her face in the luscious wet folds, needing more of her everywhere. Finding their own matching rhythm, tongues working and driving, giving and taking, Devon soared on blistering currents of need. She let out a strangled cry when her release came and clung tightly as Jessie followed her over, causing a second shattering explosion within Devon.

Jessie collapsed on her side as the remaining tremors shook through them. Devon’s heart pounded wildly in her chest. Slowly their breathing steadied and her body fell back to earth, reassembling. Gradually, she felt capable of functioning again.

Devon cradled Jessie in her arms and breathed in deeply, content to drown in her scent. She ran her fingers over the soft skin along her thigh. Jessie shuddered as Devon’s touch reached the sweet spot on her side just above her hip. Devon kissed Jessie’s forehead and she snuggled more closely to Devon.

Holding Jessie, still floating in the bliss of their passion, Devon wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. But then again, she could never dream of anything so perfect.

“I was afraid I might lose you,” Jessie confessed with her head pillowed on Devon’s shoulder. “I was terrified that we might never get the chance…” She stopped again.

Devon shifted carefully, ignoring the discomfort in her ribs, needing to look into Jessie’s eyes. She placed a tender kiss on her lips and then spoke softly. “That’s the first thing I thought of when I woke up. Well, that, and how much my head hurt.” She chuckled.

“Are you okay now? Oh, God. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

A throaty laugh bubbled out of Devon. “Baby, you could hurt me like that for the rest of my life.”

Jessie laughed as well and turned her face to Devon’s. The kiss was tender and sweet and filled with emotion. When their lips parted, Devon was awed by the intensity of Jessie’s expression. “The rest of your life, huh?” She broke into a warm smile. “I like the sound of that.”

Devon thought about what she had just said. It was as if she had just glimpsed the future, and rather than scaring her, the prospect filled her soul with a sense of peace that she barely recognized. After all the years of solitude, had she found her happiness? Was this possible? Incredibly, she thought the answer was yes.

With every inch of her being, Devon wanted to believe that Jessica Kilbride was the woman she could make a life with. Now she just had to make sure she didn’t screw it up.

Chapter Eighteen

HONEYCUTT SQUINTED INTO the darkness, concentrating on the south side of the road to his left. The narrow stretch was little more than a path into the dense woods, and it was apparent that nobody had come this way in quite some time. That was very good. He slowed the car to a snail’s pace, anticipating his turn instinctively. Although it had been nearly ten years since he’d last been in the area, he knew what he was looking for. There. The tree had been struck by lightning when he was a boy, and by some strange quirk of nature a new sapling had taken root in the center of the split. The old oak gave the appearance of a banana peel on either side of the new tree.

Driving through the overgrown brush, he stopped at a rusted chain hanging across the entrance to the property. A weatherbeaten metal sign was hand painted: “No Trespassing.” His father had inherited the place when he was only ten. It was supposed to be the family vacation house, but they’d actually stayed there only two or three times. The small cabin sat on ten acres of otherwise untouched land. The thick growth of cypress trees and palmettos nicely concealed the structure from the road. Since his father’s death, the place had fallen into disrepair and was long ago forgotten by anyone who used to know the family.

He followed the barely visible path more by memory than actual sight until he came to what used to be a clearing. The cabin stood silent and dark. Desolate. No sign of civilization for miles. Rolling to a stop a few feet from the front porch, he got out. He’d stopped at a small market a couple of minutes off the interstate to fill his gas tank and pick up supplies and non-perishables which would hold him while he waited for things to die down back in Tampa. He gathered groceries and a six-pack of beer he’d purchased. Darkness descended around him. The crickets were working themselves into a fever pitch in the surrounding woods, and the mosquitoes threatened to relieve him of every drop of his blood. Slapping at the annoying bugs, he hurried inside.

A quarter he’d dropped into the payphone at the Stop-n-Rob for that phone call to the hospital last week was well spent. Now James would be looking over her shoulder at every turn.

Honeycutt grinned with feral glee. He figured it would take a few weeks for things to cool down enough for Roy to start moving vehicles again, but he had enough money to buy more supplies, so there was no hurry. The bitch would still be there when he got back.

DEVON PULLED ON a white polo shirt with a police badge stitched into the left breast area and her name on the right. Three weeks of inactivity was enough to drive her crazy, and today she was thrilled to be returning as a working part of the investigation. Before her injury, she’d hated the confines of the wire room, but now she anticipated the chance to roll up her sleeves and make a live connection to the crime files she had pored over endlessly.

A sound from behind made her turn around. Jessie shifted in the bed, dragging the sheet with her as she rolled onto her side, her hand curled beneath her chin. Perfect was the only word that came to Devon’s mind. Jessie had worked her way deep inside of Devon already, in ways she could hardly comprehend. She couldn’t look at Jessie without her body reacting in even the smallest fashion.

Devon waited until she settled again, smiling at the sight of her sleeping soundly and wrapped in cocoon-like sheets. Devon warmed at the simple pleasure of watching Jessie and was amazed at how many of these pristine moments Jessie made her notice every day. The glow of dawn was just beginning to peek around the edges of the window shades affording Devon enough light to finish dressing without turning on the bedside lamp that would disturb Jessie. She tucked her shirt into black BDU pants that were the only option for attire in light of the cast on her leg. She’d even had to cut the bottom of the pant leg in order to fit it over the bulky plaster. After lacing up one boot, she stood awkwardly and hopped to the dresser to retrieve her wallet and thread her belt around her waist. She made one final assessment of herself in the mirror, deciding she looked fine, given the circumstances.

She picked up a set of keys and then realized they were Jessie’s. Devon lifted her gaze to the mirror to watch Jessie again. They hadn’t exactly discussed her moving in, but she stayed over now more frequently than not. Her things had begun taking their place among the household items, and Devon certainly didn’t mind. She enjoyed the scent of her on the sheets at night and the way Jessie’s perfume lingered in the air even when she was gone. All around the house little touches of Jessie made the place feel more like a home. A couple of weeks earlier, Jessie had planted a garden in the front flowerbed that brought cheer to the yard and a smile to Devon’s face. So far their relationship had been nothing but simpatico. Sometimes she felt as if they had known each other forever. Almost.

She’d felt Jessie tracing her scars on more than one occasion, no doubt wondering about their significance. Devon told her about the shooting, but not the rest. Those scars represented heartbreak and loss and a huge part of her that she kept from everyone. After all this time she wondered if she was capable of opening up, even to Jessie. Then she realized that just thinking about telling Jess was something she’d never considered before with anyone else, and that all by itself was a huge step forward.

Devon knew that there were lots of topics they’d need to discuss, triumphs and losses that brought them to this place in each of their lives, enabling them to find each other. But she was in no rush. Her experiences both in the military and being a cop taught her to trust her intuition. She relied on what her gut told her about people. Looking at the sleeping beauty peacefully wrapped in the comfort of her bed, Devon felt only the rightness of everything about being with Jessie. She moved around to the far side of the bed and sat on the edge. Jessie rolled toward her and murmured something unintelligible, draping her arm across the top of Devon’s thigh. She reached out brushed the hair away from Jesse’s brow, her eyes tracing every inch of her face, feeling nothing but contentment.

“Hi,” Jessie mumbled into the pillow.

“Hi baby.”

Jessie’s eye opened a crack. “Where you going?”

“It’s Monday. I start working light duty again, remember? Kelsey and I are going to work the wire, and I’ve got leads to run down from my notes on the auto theft files.”

“Sounds like a lot for your first day. Take it easy, okay?” Jessie rolled onto her back and stretched.

Devon resisted the temptation to strip and climb back into bed with her. “I’ve been taking it easy for three weeks, it’s time to get back to work and do something productive. Now you need to go back to sleep.” Devon pulled the sheets up around her neck and leaned in for a quick kiss. “I’ll be home early enough to make you dinner before you go to work.”

“That sounds nice.” Jessie closed her eyes and was already drifting away.

Devon crutched to the kitchen to grab a piece of fruit, yogurt, and a water to go. She stuffed her breakfast into her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She plucked her keys off the counter before switching off the kitchen light and exiting into the garage. As she backed out of the driveway past Jessie’s car a dark spot on the asphalt caught her eye. Devon leaned out of the window to look more closely. It was definitely a fluid discharge, as though a vehicle had been idling there.

She climbed out of the Jeep and carefully bent down to inspect the liquid. She touched her fingertip to the spot. It was clear, no smell either. Water, like the discharge from a car’s air conditioning system. A trail ran into the gutter at the side of the street. Whoever it was had sat there for a while and left recently by the looks of things. Her stomach soured. Had someone followed Jessie? Were they being watched? She pushed herself upright and made a visual sweep of the street. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. She dropped her eyes again to the water, wondering if she should go inside and warn Jessie to be extra careful. Then again, it could have been the paper delivery driver. She decided that there was nothing she could do about it right now, except head to work and start digging. The faster they found Honeycutt, the faster she’d be able to relax.

“MORNING, KELSE,” DEVON said as she entered.

“Look who’s decided to grace us with her presence.” Kelsey sat in the wire room surrounded by files and paperwork with plastic wrappers from vending machine snacks scattered throughout. The gigantic white board loomed behind her, hogging up a quarter of the room’s tiny space. Now the board’s entire surface was covered with the details of the ever-widening criminal web, with Honeycutt as its epicenter. She got up and pulled out a chair. Devon dropped into the seat and propped her crutches against the table next to her. “You’re looking good, bud,” Kelsey said.

“Thanks, it’s great to be back.” She glanced around the room. “So, bring me up to speed. What have I missed?”

Kelsey scooted her chair closer and pushed her notes in front of Devon. “Not all that much, though yesterday Roy made a few calls that were interesting. Check this out.” She handed Devon a printout. “I’ve highlighted the pertinent areas. There’s an incoming call that I can’t link to anything, so I don’t know if it’s random. The number comes back to a payphone in a place called Zellwood.”

“Where the hell is that?”

“Dot on the map northwest of Orlando. Nothing to link it to, so far. Anyway, Roy’s phone has been getting busier in the past few days. Yesterday he made three calls to known associates from the drug side. Without moving cars, I guess he’s got to make his money somehow. Those subjects, in turn, made a few more calls, and all mentioned something about moving a ratchet.”

Devon frowned as she scanned the pages in question. “Do your narc buddies have any idea what they’re talking about?”

“Not yet, but I told them to keep an ear open for whatever it is. The last mention of the ratchet was by a dealer who goes by Scooby. He lives over on the east side, but his girl stays in west Tampa on West Chestnut in the Homes. You ever see this guy over there? The kid you had your run-in with was supposed to be one of his little soldiers.”

Devon stared at the color photo of the guy called Scooby. His real name was Antonio Green, and he had a criminal record that included narcotics possession, robbery, aggravated assaults, auto theft, and most recently, being a felon in possession of a firearm. She sighed. “Why the fuck isn’t this guy in prison?”

“He got out six months ago. Do you know him?”

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen him. These guys usually drive something pretty distinctive. It’s possible I’ve seen his ride but never had a reason to stop it. What kind of car does he drive?”

“I don’t know.”

Devon pulled a laptop over and typed the name into the departmental database. When her response appeared on the screen, she scrolled down to the vehicle link. “Bingo. He drives a lime green ’71 Chevy Caprice with a hydraulic kit and custom rims. I’ve seen that car around lots of times.”

“Now we know he’s a business associate of Roy’s.” Kelsey made a few corresponding notes on the white board next to Green’s mug shot. She drew a line connecting pictures of the two men. Kelsey stepped back and Devon tried to take in the big picture of the entire board. Roy now emerged as the center of the activity, with solid links to both sides of the criminal enterprise. She shifted her focus to Honeycutt’s picture. Lines connected him to Roy, a couple of the dopers, and one auto theft case. Beneath that was an additional case number and the charge of attempted murder—law enforcement officer, and her ID card picture.

Devon clenched her jaw and refocused on the file in front of her. “All right. We know Scooby is a narc dealer who does business with Roy. Do we think Roy’s just supplying cars or is he branching out into another enterprise?”

Kelsey dropped into the chair next to Devon and kicked her feet up on the table. “My hunch is he’s the car guy, but he might also be picking up a little extra cash by letting Scooby ship dope in the vehicles. We haven’t had many auto thefts recently. Maybe business is a little slow because his wheel guy’s gone underground.”

“That would make sense,” Devon glanced at Honeycutt’s picture.

A call came through. Kelsey punched the button on the speaker as the recorder automatically kicked on. It was an incoming call to Roy’s shop. Kelsey tapped Devon’s arm. “Dev, it’s that payphone number again.”

After three rings Roy picked up.

“Yeah.”

“It’s me.”

“Where the fuck have you been? Three weeks ago I sent you to pick up a car. Plain and simple.”

The caller chuckled. “Uh, I ran into a little problem with that one. I sent one of the kids to get another one. I didn’t think the color was a big deal.”

The caller was definitely Honeycutt, and his choice of words wasn’t lost on Devon. She seethed inside listening to him joking about running her down in the street. Kelsey scribbled a note to mark the tape’s exact time as the conversation continued.

“I pay you to do exactly what you’re told,” Roy shouted. “A fucking black car is all over the news—the one they’re looking for that ran down a cop—that was my car?”

“Technically, no. It wasn’t your car. But yes, it was the one I picked up. As I said, I ran into a little trouble.”

“I pay you to deliver the cars. Period. If your stupid ass stunt costs me my business there will be nowhere in this town you can hide.”

“Aww, boss, relax. I got rid of the car in the projects and got the kids to lift another. It’s foolproof. You got the ride for your customer. As far as the other one, nothing ties you or me to the car.”

“Fine.” Roy bit off the word. “It’s not like I have any love lost for cops.”

“So, will you have a job for me soon? I’ve gotta replenish some funds.”

Roy sighed. “I don’t know—”

“I’m the best and you know it, boss.”

“I’ll have something soon. A buddy of mine might need a job done. Don’t call me again. I’ll get you a message through our friend.”

“Gotcha.”

“Just remember who you work for. I’m not putting up with any more shit, or you’re done. Clear?”

“Crystal.”

The line disconnected. Kelsey stood and walked to the white board. She picked up a red marker and drew a line from the case number next to Devon’s picture to the one of Roy Beckman. She turned around and grinned at Devon. “Our boys just gave us what we need to tie their criminal enterprise to the attempt on your life. Holy shit, that’s good stuff!” She and Devon high-fived. “Now I need to scout the location for that payphone. It comes back to a gas station in that little town. Zellwood.” Kelsey shook her head. “Who the hell ever heard of that place?”

“You said it’s in Orange County?” Devon asked.

“Yep. Northwest of Orlando. I can drive out there tomorrow.”

“I think I have a friend who can help.” Devon pulled out her cell phone and dialed Jillian’s number.

BY THE TIME Honeycutt got back to the cabin, it was nearly nine p.m. He had spent the day checking out the area for moneymaking prospects, just in case Roy didn’t come through with a job. He’d found a couple of body shops a few miles past the service station, and he figured he might pay them a friendly visit soon. Shops were always looking for experienced mechanics. Then he’d found himself in a little watering hole to enjoy a couple of brews. He left later with a grill order to go.

Once again, the mosquitoes were out in thick, savage groups that attacked when he exited his car. “Fucking hell hole,” he muttered as he charged toward the front door with his six-pack and burger meal.

The beer was tepid, at best. After his first swig he put two bottles in the freezer, knowing that he would drink them before the nearly antique refrigerator could cool them down. He carried a bottle to the sparsely furnished living room and placed it on the worn wooden coffee table next to a cardboard box. When he hit the switch, the window air conditioner stuttered and finally groaned to life, pushing a musty smell into the room. The itch beneath the cast had driven him insane all day, and he cursed the bitch cop responsible. Jamming a twig from an oak branch beneath the plaster, he scraped at the incessant irritation until the tickle stopped. The doc at the clinic estimated one week more, then he could rid himself of the plaster pain in the ass all together.

He returned to sit on the old threadbare couch and contemplated the contents of the box in front of him. His father had kept meticulous private records of his investigations. He always said it was good to cover your own ass. The box contained numerous files and pages of notes. Honeycutt sorted through the papers, not really knowing what he was looking for, but hoping that something would be helpful.

He gulped his beer and opened the next folder, glancing quickly through the record before tossing the file aside. A page slid out to land at his feet. The picture of a dark-haired woman stared back at him from the page. He immediately recognized her. His father had made handwritten notes on a page attached to the picture.

An evil grin split his face as he read. “Well, well, well,” he spoke out loud. “It’s the fucking dyke that chased me out of the hospital with James’ little whore. Captain McKinley, whaddaya know? You’re not just another meddling cop friend of James’. You helped her ruin Pop. In fact, you orchestrated the way they twisted the truth, making Pop seem like an obsessed nut.”

He chugged the rest of the beer and went to the kitchen for another, stopping to stare at his father’s picture hanging on the refrigerator door. “Don’t you worry, Pop. They’ll all pay for what they did to you. I swear it.”

Chapter Nineteen

THE NEIGHBORHOOD DINER was packed with the usual lunch crowd. Devon approached, methodically negotiating the three steps onto the deck. A woman reached past her at the top and held the door for her to enter. She thanked the woman, who smiled in return. She scanned the interior and spotted Mac in a corner booth at the rear with her cell phone to her ear. The buzz of conversations mingled with sounds of clanging plates from the kitchen. A man yelled, “Order up!”

Val waved from behind the counter. Devon and Mac had been coming to the diner since they first moved to Tampa, and Val was a fixture of the place. She pushed a wayward lock of silver hair away from her face. “What’re ya drinkin’ today, Devon?”

“How ’bout some of your famous mint tea?”

“I’ll bring a pitcher, honey.”

As Devon drew nearer, she heard Mac say, “He could’ve killed her.” Mac paused to listen, then said. “I know.”

Devon stopped at the table and leaned her crutches in the corner, then hopped around to the opposite side and eased into the seat across from Mac. She propped her casted leg up and leaned back against the wall. Mac held up a finger, indicating she’d only be a minute. Devon nodded and busied herself perusing the menu.

Mac said, “We haven’t found him yet. We will though. No. I’m glad you’re not here. We have no way of knowing whether he’s aware you’re here in Florida, too. With you out of town, that’s one less thing for me to worry about.” Another pause. “And here I thought you were coming just to see me.”

Devon realized that the person on the other end of the call was Jillian. Whatever Jillian said in response caused a slow smile to slide over Mac’s face, the kind of smile that made Devon suddenly feel like a voyeur. Mac glanced at her and flushed. Thankfully, Val showed up with the pitcher of tea and took her order.

Devon sipped her tea and watched her friend. She was glad to see Mac happy, not just on the surface, but through and through. Mac’s easygoing character was always a counterpoint to Devon’s own naturally pessimistic personality. Mac saw the good in people despite her experience with heartache. That was one of the things that Devon admired most about her. She had to admit that it stung a little at first having Mac defend Jillian. A part of Devon still clung to her pain like an amulet that might shield her heart. But, just as she had so many times, Mac showed Devon the power of possibility—a chance for lasting friendship with a woman she genuinely cared for.

“Actually, Devon just showed up. Yes, I’ll tell her. Uh, huh. Call you later, babe.”

Mac set her phone down, grinning like a little kid with a big secret. “Jill says hi.”

Devon nodded. “Among other things...babe.”

“Ass.” Mac tossed a packet of crackers at her head. They both chuckled.

“Jill’s out of town?”

“Yeah.” Mac shifted in the booth. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“What’s up?”

“It might be nothing, but our division secretary said she got a couple of weird calls. The first time a guy asked if I worked there. She said it was like someone checking a job resume or something. Then yesterday she got another call. This time the guy wanted to know what my position was. Audrey told him he’d have to call personnel for any specific information.”

“Did this guy identify himself?” Devon asked.

“No. That’s why she didn’t give him any information. We did a media piece recently about police helicopters, so she thought maybe that was related. I wasn’t really concerned, until I remembered that you got that odd call at the hospital, and Junior’s been MIA. What do you think? It might be some random thing.

“Or not.” Devon said.

“What?”

“This morning when I left the house, I found water in the street like an air-conditioned car had been idling there for a while.”

Mac gaped at her. “You didn’t see anyone, hear anything?”

“No. And it couldn’t have been from Jessie’s car because she was home a couple hours before I got up. I was paranoid until I got to work and we heard Honeycutt on the wire. He’s somewhere across the state, so it wasn’t him in front of my house. I don’t have to tell you how relieved I was to know that with Jessie home sleeping.” Devon took a gulp of her tea.

“Still, it could have been one of his boys.”

“True. Or it could be nothing,” Devon said, trying to convince herself.

“I don’t like it.” Mac shook her head. “Somebody’s watching your house? Kelsey needs to put somebody on your street. That’s not good.”

“I’ll be fine. There’s more, though. We got a break in the investigation.”

“Really? Tell me.”

“A call this morning ties Honeycutt and Roy to the car that hit me.”

“Dev, that’s awesome! Do we know where he is?” Mac spread mayonnaise on her chicken sandwich and replaced the top half of the bun.

“Only a general area. And, you won’t like the rest.” She waited until she had Mac’s complete attention. “The phone he called from is in Orange County.”

Mac grew still. “What? Did you get a location on it?”

“Yes. It’s a payphone though. A tiny gas station in a place called Zellwood.”

“Jill said she was checking something for you, is that what she meant?”

Devon nodded.

Mac’s lips compressed into a thin line. Her gray eyes reminding Devon of snow clouds on a dark winter day.

“I don’t like this,” Mac said.

“We’re getting close on the wire. I think we’ll have something very soon.”

Mac went on as if Devon hadn’t spoken. “Now Junior’s near Orlando? Maybe? We need a full task force. There are too many threads and now locations. How the hell are we supposed to keep Jillian safe from over here?” She clenched her fist on the table and Devon shared her frustration and fear.

“How long will Jill be gone?”

“She’s in Milwaukee for ten days.”

“Perfect. She’s safe up there. Bring her to Tampa when she gets back and the four of us can talk things over. A task force is fine, but when it gets right down to it, with Junior, this is purely personal. We’ll have to consider our best options. When Jill’s friend checks out the Orange County location, we’ll figure out what to do on that end. Okay?”

Mac nodded in half-hearted agreement. She looked Devon in the eye. “This is really fucked up.”

“I know how you feel. He’s taken a shot at me, and I’m scared shitless he’ll try to hurt Jessie, or Jillian, or you. Much as I’d love blazing into Roy’s shop and going crazy SWAT on his ass, we can’t. Yet. Working the wire and waiting for Roy or his doper buddies to bring Honeycutt back out of hiding is the best shot we’ve got at nailing all of them.”

“What if he doesn’t surface?” Mac asked. “That payphone might just be a stop on the way to somewhere else. If we wait, he might vanish.”

“Could be. But my gut says he’ll want another shot at me. He’s gone to a lot of trouble to be here locally. Remember he went as far as to show up at the station to see me face to face. I think he’s biding his time. Now that I’m back—at least on the desk—I’ll fiddle around on the computer and see if I can come up with anything else. Junior’s too much like his old man. He’s out there somewhere, planning his next move.” Her eyes were hard now. “This isn’t over.”

THOUGHTS OF JUNIOR and his father hovered in her consciousness the entire drive home and Devon’s anger simmered. Her memories drifted to her time in Boston, when her world was fresh and alive and full of possibility. Destiny had brought her to the army, where she’d found her niche in the discipline of the military, and amazingly, discovered herself the day she’d met Jillian. They were young and in love and the world was right. Then, Martin Honeycutt began his crusade, destroying everything she had, bit by bit, until her life was reduced to a pile of waste, like the smoldering rubble in the Beirut desert.

Now, just when she’d dared to think that the universe had given her the “all clear” and the glimpse of a bright future with a wonderful woman, history was threatening to repeat itself. Another Honeycutt was out to destroy her, only this time the stakes were so much higher. Devon knew if something should happen to Jessie she would never survive that cataclysmic loss. She cursed the cast on her leg and wondered how the hell she was going to take care of Jessie when she was still on the mend herself. Maybe Junior would stay hidden beneath whatever rock he had crawled under long enough for her to get back to full duty. In the meantime, she needed to figure out how to be ready for anything. This time around, failure was not an option.

Rounding the corner onto her block, she saw a car she didn’t recognize parked just where the unexplained spot had been in the morning. A cold chill went down her spine. Her mind raced, wondering if Honeycutt knew where she lived.

Devon scanned the scene before her. Jessie stood on the porch with someone partially obscured by the front pillar. Her posture was tense, arms folded across her chest, as she listened to whatever the visitor was saying. The other person stood with her back to the street, and it didn’t appear as though Jessie was in immediate danger. Devon pulled into the driveway, still watching Jessie.

Devon hopped out on one foot and retrieved her crutches from behind her seat. She slung her bag over her shoulder and settled the crutches under her arms to make her way up the walk. As she neared the porch steps, she was glad to be wearing dark sunglasses because it was Angela who glanced her direction.

The sight drove a knife of uncertainty into Devon’s gut. What was Angela doing here? Her focus shifted from Angela to Jessie, trying to read the dynamic. Jessie stood confidently, although relief was evident on her face when she saw Devon. She gave a reassuring nod.

Slumping, Angela shoved her hands into her front pockets and dropped her head. Devon couldn’t be certain, but as she crutched up the stairs, she thought the other woman’s eyes looked swollen, as if she’d been crying. She moved aside to allow Devon room to make her way onto the porch.

“Are you okay?” Devon’s question was for Jessie, who stood calm and stoic in the face of whatever anguish Angela was going through. Angela looked like she might crumble, and if Devon didn’t know the pain she’d caused Jessie, she might have even felt sorry for her.

Jessie shifted her gaze to Devon and smiled. “Yes. Angela was just leaving.”

Devon nodded. She started toward the door to give them privacy.

“Can you give us a minute, Jessie?” Angela asked.

The request stopped Devon in her tracks. What the hell was Angela asking for?

Jessie squeezed Devon’s arm before going inside, leaving her alone with Angela in the sticky afternoon heat. There was no doubt the other woman was an emotional wreck. Devon waited for whatever it was that she had to say. Angela sniffed and sucked in a deep breath to gather herself. She straightened and squared her shoulders, reluctantly raising her red, swollen eyes to Devon’s.

“Listen. I came here to talk to Jessie. To see if there was any chance...” She shifted her feet and looked away. “I had to know. She wouldn’t take my calls. I went by her folks’ place, but they wouldn’t talk to me. So, I didn’t have any choice. I had to hear it from her. Surely you can understand that?”

Actually, Devon did understand it on some level. She also knew she would do absolutely anything to keep from losing Jessie. “Were you here this morning?”

Angela sighed. “Yeah, I followed her when she got off her shift. I knew she wasn’t going to her parents’ place lately. I didn’t realize it was your house until I saw your car in the driveway.”

Relief flowed through Devon. She wasn’t crazy about Angela following Jessie around, but at least the stalker wasn’t Junior. “Do you understand now?”

“No. Yes. I mean—I get it. She made her choice very clear.” Angela slumped against the round pillar and raked a hand through her hair. “I’ll never understand how I could’ve let her go.”

“I guess that’s the only thing you and I will ever have in common,” Devon said.

“I’m sorry I came.” Angela dug her keys out of her pocket.

“Jessie is free to do whatever she wants. I don’t control her, and she’s not a piece of property belonging to anyone. But I will not have you or anyone else disturbing her. Jessie made her own choice to be here. She’s moving on, Angela. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going inside.”

Angela’s boots clomped down the stairs and she started toward her car.

Devon watched her go, then called out, “Angela.”

She twisted around halfway in response. Devon took off her sunglasses so Angela could see her eyes. “It’s over. I’ve allowed you some leeway because I didn’t want to overstep where Jessie is concerned. Now I think it’s time to settle this between us. This is my home. Don’t come here again without an invitation, and do not bother Jessie from this moment on or you’ll answer to me. Understand?”

Angela’s dark head bobbed in response.

“See you at work then.”

Without another word, Angela got into her car and roared away from the curb.

Devon pulled open the screen door. Inside, she found Jessie at the kitchen counter, staring into her coffee cup. She moved behind her stool and after setting aside her crutches, slipped her arms around Jessie’s waist. “Are you okay?”

“As long as I have you.”

Jessie leaned into her, and as Devon nuzzled her neck, she inhaled deeply the scent of lavender.

Jessie said, “I’m sorry Angela came here.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. And for the record, you don’t have to answer to me or get my permission for anything.”

“But this is your home. I’m sure you don’t want to deal with my problems here.”

“It’s okay, Jess. We’ll work it out.”

Jessie started to speak and then hesitated. Her expression was odd, and Devon felt an air of disappointment. She tilted her head to catch Jessie’s eye. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Jessie said unconvincingly.

Devon pulled Jessie into a tight hug, wishing she could wrap her in a protective cocoon, safe from any danger or heartache. Jessie dropped her head onto Devon’s shoulder and pressed more tightly against her. She kissed the top of Jessie’s head, praying that Angela and her drama were gone for good.

Chapter Twenty

DEVON SAT AT the wire room table with files and copies of reports all around her, thoughts scribbled on scraps of paper, and sticky notes affixed to pertinent information. It was eight-thirty on Friday night, long after she had usually gone home.

“What’s all this?” Kelsey wanted to know as she entered the wire room. She looked fatigued. Unlike Devon, she’d been burning the midnight oil, listening to the wire as much as possible late into the night. This weekend she was scheduled to have a well-deserved couple of days off.

Devon tucked her pen behind her ear. “I started from scratch with all of the files you’ve given me since the last month. There’s something missing that will tie this all together. I just need to find it.”

Kelsey held out a manila folder. “Sorry, here’s one more you can start on in the morning. It’s getting kind of late, bud. Don’t you need to get home to that cute rookie? If I had her waiting for me, I wouldn’t be slaving over work in this dungeon. You’ve been pushing hard all week. The case will still be here tomorrow.”

“Your concern is touching,” Devon said. “However, Jess is working tonight, so there is no reason for me to go home. Anyway, we’re getting close on this, Kelse. I can feel it.”

“Are you two living together now?” Kelsey leaned casually against the doorframe.

Devon set the folder in her hand on the table and considered the question. “Not officially.”

“You haven’t asked her or you don’t want to take that step?”

“I haven’t asked.” Devon frowned. Was Jessie waiting for her to ask? Things had moved along naturally, at least from her perspective. Now she wondered. “Do you think I have to ask her formally? I mean, to me she’s as good as moved in.”

“Women don’t want to have to guess, knucklehead. Jeeze, don’t you get it? Does she know you want her there permanently?”

“How could she not know?”

Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Devon, Devon, Devon. It’s your house. Of course she’s waiting for you to say something. I’ve gotta fly. Big plans tonight. Don’t work too late, my friend. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Devon stared after her for a few minutes, letting the conversation sink in. Jessie knows how I feel about her, she told herself. She thought about how much better her life was with Jessie in it. Of course she wanted Jess to move in for good, but that was Jessie’s call, right? Had she ever told Jess how deep her feelings for her were? Kelsey was making her second guess herself, which wasn’t really difficult. Devon remembered how she let her insecurities keep her from talking honestly to Alex, and then it was too late. She scowled. Maybe Kelsey was right. She would talk to Jessie soon.

But right now she had work to do.

Devon opened the file Kelsey had brought over. The case with Honeycutt had gone a little cold in the past few days. None of the players was saying much on the wire about cars, and Junior hadn’t made any more calls from the payphone. A detective friend of Jillian’s checked out the location in Zellwood, but without knowing which direction Junior went from there, it was impossible to track him. Now it was a waiting game, and patience wasn’t Devon’s strong suit.

The new file was for a home invasion robbery. Devon frowned, wondering why Kelsey had dropped it off. She opened the cover and perused the details. Two armed suspects kicked in the door of an acquaintance’s apartment and robbed him at gunpoint. According to the victim—a questionable label because the guy was a known narcotics dealer—they took four hundred dollars and shot off a round before fleeing. Description of the suspects was generic. Kelsey noted that she thought the victim was lying and knew the perps.

“And why do I care about this?” Devon asked aloud. She rubbed her eyes and kept reading. Apparently, the prime suspect was an associate of Scooby’s, so it had a bearing on the wire.

Devon’s phone rang, and Jessie’s number on the display gave her a happy jolt inside. “Hey, honey.”

“Hi. You still working?” The police radio squawked in the background.

“Uh, huh. Sounds busy out there.”

“Yeah, we are. I thought I’d take advantage of a free moment to call my favorite corporal.” The playful lilt in Jessie’s voice made Devon smile.

“Funny, Detective Johnson said I was his favorite corporal, too,” she teased back.

“I’ll bet he doesn’t take care of you the way I do.”

“Nobody could, Jess. You know that, right?”

“Yep. How’s your day going?”

“Slow. The wire’s been quiet. I’ve been combing through the files again. A couple of the auto thefts have similar MOs, and property recovered in other cases ties at least three of the juveniles to previously unsolved cases. Nothing concrete on Honeycutt or Roy, though.”

“You’ll figure it out, sweetheart. Crap. Hang on.” She waited while Jessie responded to the dispatcher. “I’ve got a call, hon.”

“Jess?”

“Yeah?”

“Wake me up when you get home, all right? I miss you.”

“See you later, then.”

“Be careful.”

“I will.” Jessie rang off.

The recorder beeped indicating an incoming call on Scooby’s phone. Devon picked up the headset, noting the number was a new source.

“What up, dog?” Scooby drawled.

“Yo, dat little man of yours pulled a jack last night. Some punk been messin’ wit his girl. That ratchet you told him to move. Got to go deep undercover now, ’cause he cranked off a shot.”

“Where’s that stupid muthafucka now?” Scooby was clearly not pleased.

“Po-lice got him. Don’t worry, he won’t talk. And dem boys won’t snitch on ’lil man, neither.”

“Where’s da ratchet now?”

“Not sure, ’lil man says he took care of it.”

“I ain’t takin’ no chances. Five-O still lookin’ for dat piece. Do a bro a solid. Find it and get ridda dat shit once an’ for all.”

“Aight.”

The line went dead. Devon sat back, taking in what she’d just heard. Clearly they were talking about a robbery, which meant that the ratchet was a gun. This gun had been the topic of conversation for some time now. What was special about this particular gun? She slid the file on the latest robbery in front of her again. The details of the call fit the report. She read the notes she’d taken during the call, circling the part about Five-O—the police looking for the piece.

Obviously, the gun in question had been used in multiple crimes. Devon wished the realities of police work were like the movies. Then she’d be able to magically compare every piece of ballistic evidence and instantly find the link. Unfortunately, she needed more evidence to justify ordering those tests from the state lab. Devon flipped her notepad to a fresh sheet and wrote a reminder to pull all open or unsolved cases involving firearms in the past six months. She shook her head. As though she needed more threads to try to weave together.

THE BRUSH OF lips against hers roused Devon out of slumber. She opened her eyes to see Jessie standing over her and realized she’d fallen asleep on the couch. Jessie traced her fingertips along Devon’s eyebrows before leaning in for another kiss that quickly deepened and then slowed to allow thorough exploration. They both took advantage of the unexpected pleasures of the moment, their tongues gliding together in slick warm recesses, reducing Devon’s entire world to the sensation of Jessie’s mouth on hers.

Eventually, Jessie pulled back slightly, staring into Devon’s eyes. “I take it you’re glad to see me?”

Devon gave a quick nod, her heart racing.

“Hold that thought.” Jessie removed her utility belt and set it on the chair. She kept her focus on Devon while methodically unbuttoning her uniform shirt, letting it fall to the floor behind her. Next, she ripped the Velcro fasteners off her ballistic vest and lifted it over her head, before bending to untie and kick off her boots and socks. Devon was transfixed by the private striptease. Lastly, Jessie unbuckled her belt and pants, slowly slipping them off her hips and stepping free as they pooled at her ankles. Devon’s gaze swept over Jessie’s body, now only covered by a t-shirt, bra, and panties. Jessie removed the tie from her hair, shaking it free to send the rich strands flowing over her shoulders the way Devon loved it.

Devon could no longer remain still. She pulled Jessie in for another round of sensuous lip play. Jessie molded her body against her, and Devon worked her hands beneath Jessie’s t-shirt to stroke her skin. They lay quietly together for a while. Finally Devon asked, “How was the rest of your night?” She continued caressing Jessie’s back.

“Good. I had a very interesting call.”

“Really?” Devon slid her hands down to massage the round contours of Jessie’s backside.

“Oh, that feels good.” Jessie sighed and sagged against Devon’s chest.

“Anyway, I took another report at the Mercedes dealership. Remember the one that had the multiple cars taken and I found the key? Craziest thing. The dealer had taken in a Chrysler trade-in for a vehicle two years ago. My victims bought that Chrysler from the Mercedes dealer’s used car lot a month later. This week they received a recall notice and tried to have the work done at Chrysler, but the Chrysler dealer wouldn’t work on the car because they said something was not right with the VIN.”

Devon worked the muscles in Jessie’s lower back now.

“Ahh, yeah, baby, you have the best hands.”

“What was up with the car?” Devon asked, continuing with the massage.

“They had to take it back to the Mercedes dealer and told them what the Chrysler dealer said. Their body shop manager tried to compare the VIN number on the door to the dash. They didn’t match, but the door plate looked like maybe it had gotten damaged or something.” Jessie sat up now, growing more animated. “The manager decided to take out the entire dashboard. When he did, they discovered that a piece of an aluminum beer can engraved with a fake VIN number had been placed over the real VIN. And you’ll never guess—the real VIN shows the car was stolen. Is that unbelievable? These people had a title and everything. They had no idea they’d been driving a stolen car for two years.”

Now Devon was completely riveted. She sat up and grabbed her pad off the coffee table and started making notes. “Wow. So, the VIN was either covered prior to arrival at the Mercedes dealership, or someone there inserted the fictitious number.”

“Exactly.”

“Where’s the car now?” Devon continued to write furiously.

“Police lot, of course. And I figured that the bogus VIN plate might miraculously have some evidence attached—prints or whatever, so I put it in evidence.”

“Thanks, that will make it easier when I get in on Monday. What do you think about the case? I mean is this something that might be unique or part of an organized operation?”

Jessie paused. “It could have been a one-time thing. But then I got to thinking about your investigation. How easy would that be to do if someone had access to cars? What if a guy like Roy were to start switching out VINs, maybe from cars going to scrap? And if they did it well, heck, no one would ever know. Devon, seriously, those poor people paid good money for the car. They had a title registered with the state and didn’t suspect a thing.”

“I’ll pull your report first thing when I get back to the office. You might be onto something, Jess.”

“A copy of my report and a photocopy of the VIN and title are already on your desk, ma’am.”

Devon dropped her pen and turned to Jessie. “Have I ever told you how truly amazing I think you are?”

“I’m not sure.” Jessie shifted closer and Devon took advantage of the opportunity to paint kisses down her neck. Jessie threaded her fingers though Devon’s hair and made a soft mewling sound. Devon’s hands resumed their journey beneath Jessie’s shirt.

Jessie gasped when Devon tweaked her nipple. “Are you sure you don’t want to hear more about the case?”

“Completely.” Devon was starting to lose the capacity to think clearly as her body reacted to the contact, and Jessie’s responses threatened to drive her insane. “Amazing.” The next kiss sent her mind tilting, and she gave in to the growing physical desire, wanting nothing beyond Jessie’s touch.

Jessie took Devon’s head between her hands, her eyes burning with pure hunger. “Make love to me.” The command tone was incredibly sexy, and Devon was immediately wet and ready. She couldn’t articulate a response. Jessie pulled her from the couch and helped her to the bedroom, where they stripped clothing away piece by piece. Lying face to face, Devon slowly touched every inch of Jessie’s skin. She followed with feather-light kisses, tasting her way along delectable curves. Jessie moaned and twisted with her growing need. Devon took her time, taking cues from Jessie’s body, wanting her to feel not just loved but worshipped, for that’s surely what Devon felt.

When Jessie crested and released, her beauty made Devon want to weep. She cried out Devon’s name in her second climax and clung tightly until the storm settled.

Devon stayed inside, awed by the magnificent power and simultaneous tenderness of this woman. Her emotions threatened to break through. She blinked as her eyes filled. Her head and heart warred. Questions of what if? plagued her relentlessly. At the same time, she had never felt so warm, safe, and utterly protected than in these private moments with Jessie.

“I love you,” Jessie whispered.

This time Devon couldn’t stop the tears.

Chapter Twenty-One

DEVON COULDN’T WAIT to get into the station on Monday morning to review and organize the separate components of the investigation. Her first stop was at the district office to pick up the information Jessie left regarding the fake VIN case. She wanted to meet with Kelsey and dive right into this new angle first thing.

Devon was frustrated knowing that many of the high-end vehicle cases would never be solved if their new theory was right and the cars had been cloned and shipped overseas. Worse was knowing that Roy was operating with impunity, Scooby was running his dope, and Honeycutt was out there somewhere scheming. Everything was intertwined, and Devon vowed to put together a concrete case that would prove it.

She crutched her way to the back doors of the headquarters building, stopping to shift her weight to her good leg while she dug out her swipe key to enter.

“Dev, wait up.” Kelsey jogged in her direction. They rode the elevator to the eighth floor and entered the detective division offices. “How was your weekend, sport?”

“Excellent. Jessie has weekends off this month. We had a great time.”

“Really? What’d you do?”

“Not much. Just spent time together.” She felt heat rising up her neck.

Kelsey gave her a wicked grin. “You didn’t come up for air much. Got it.”

“No. It wasn’t like that. We had dinner out the other night and caught a movie. Other than that, we relaxed and enjoyed each other’s company.” Kelsey was right about the coming up for air part, but Devon wasn’t going to confirm that for her.

“Never mind,” Kelsey said. “Let’s change the subject. Auto thefts are my life, after all.” She plucked a file and a few message notes out of the acrylic wall pocket next to her office entry. She motioned for Devon to follow her. “Let’s head right to the wire room. I’ll start a pot of coffee, and you can tell me about what you accomplished after I left on Friday night.”

In their now-familiar tiny work area, Devon zeroed in on the stack of files dealing with unsolved grand theft autos. She removed the file for Jessie’s case from her shoulder bag, setting it in front of her on the table. “Check this out, Kelse. Jessie recovered a car on Friday night that had a dummy VIN plate covering the real one, and that got me thinking about your high ticket vehicles and how the search warrant initially came up empty at Roy’s place. We need to prove that he’s cloning and retagging cars, so I made a list of the open cases that this MO might fit.”

Kelsey moved around the table to examine the page Devon pushed toward her. “Holy shit. Kilbride recovered a stolen vehicle with a cloned VIN? Do you know how hard it is to find one of those? That girl of yours is on fire! She’s a hard worker and pays attention to the little details.”

Devon nodded, pride bubbling over at the compliments.

Kelsey went on. “For us it was a stroke of luck that she got the call. The fact she recognized right away that it possibly explained our disappearing European cars is amazing. She might make detective faster than anyone in department history. No joke.”

“She’s amazing,” Devon tried to sound detached, but Kelsey caught her grinning.

“Uh, huh,” Kelsey said. “I’ll just bet she is.”

Devon snapped her fingers in front of Kelsey’s face. “Focus. Auto theft, remember?”

Kelsey raised her middle finger.

“I put together an analysis report of the thefts.” Devon handed over a copy of a sheet with columns showing the location, MO, date-time-day, and offense numbers. “You can see a pattern emerging when they’re compiled. Most of the cars are taken from the downtown lots, and the other group is the ballsy heist from the dealership.”

“What about this other set? The MO’s completely different.”

“Only as far as vehicle of choice,” Devon said. “That’s where I figure the wire really comes in. I think Roy is running the high-end cloning operation. Honeycutt has been his foreman of sorts, organizing the thefts and probably handling the VIN cloning. But remember before I got hit we had the robbery suspect that said some white guy paid kids in the projects to steal cars? I think Junior has his own business on the side. He’s getting the other cars and selling or trading them.”

“How does he connect to the narc dealers on the wire?”

Devon took out two prison mug shot sheets and pushed them in Kelsey’s direction. “Vincent Honeycutt and Antonio Green, aka Scooby, were cell mates in Florida State Prison. Stands to reason that they would form a mutually profitable criminal alliance on the outside.”

Kelsey stared at Devon in amazement. “Are you sure you didn’t camp out here working all weekend?”

“I’m just super-efficient, Detective. You can buy drinks next time we go out as thanks.”

“That’s a deal. What’s up next?”

“I’m waiting for my friend in Orlando to get me more information on auto thefts in their jurisdiction. Hopefully it will give us another connection to Junior. It’s worth waiting a few days, I think. In the meantime, I’d suggest doing a bit more digging on the connection with Scooby. You left that robbery report for me. Can you go over to the jail and talk to Little Man? I want to know what the deal is with that gun. Kelse, I’m starting to feel like we could make a huge bust, scooping all of these assholes up in one large net if we play our cards right.”

“That would be sweet,” Kelsey said. “I’ll head out to the jail this afternoon and let you know what I come up with.

A GOOFY GRIN split Devon’s face when she looked up from the computer screen. Jessie strolled toward her with a couple of bags of takeout food in her hand, her gun belt slung low on her hips. Devon couldn’t make up her mind if she was sexier in or out of uniform, and then she decided it really didn’t matter. “Hey, you,” she said affectionately.

Jessie cocked her head in the direction of the break room. “You ready to eat?”

“Absolutely,” Devon said, pushing up on her crutches to follow Jessie down the hallway. The break room was a twenty-byfifteen space with three tables, a refrigerator, sink, and microwave. No frills, but functional, and most importantly, afforded them a little privacy since very few people ever used it. Whatever Jessie had in the bags smelled wonderful. “You’re a lifesaver. I owe you.”

“You just remember that,” Jessie teased.

“If I don’t, I’m sure you’ll remind me.”

Jessie winked at her and scooped out Szechwan noodles and steamed vegetables onto plates.

Devon reached into the other sack, snagging an egg roll. She took a large bite. When Jessie raised an eyebrow, she smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m starving,” she said through a mouthful, which made Jessie laugh at her.

“What’s new with the investigation tonight?” Jessie asked.

“Thanks to a very intelligent and beautiful officer, we now have a great lead on what is probably going to shape up as busting the largest auto theft ring in the department’s history.”

Jessie blushed. “Stop.”

“What? It’s true. On both counts. Anyway, your little caper was the missing piece on all of Kelsey’s unsolved grand theft autos. So, I spent some time today going back over the cases.” She stopped to shovel a forkful of noodles into her mouth. “Now I have everything divided into categories. First, I weeded out the cases that we were able to solve based upon the property recovered in related reports. Then I consolidated the open cases to check on this VIN altering. And last, but not least, we’ve got the gun cases relating to our buddies on the wire. Those may or may not be actually related to Roy, but my money’s on Junior being involved somehow.”

“You have been a busy woman. What can I do to help?” Jessie offered Devon a second eggroll.

“Thanks.” Devon said. “Other than keeping an eye out for anything fishy going on at Roy’s, do you think you could dig a little into Honeycutt’s background? I’m hoping something might turn up to help us find him. I’ve checked motor vehicles, property records, and even utilities. Nothing so far. The last driver’s license he got was before he went to prison, and that’s expired. When these guys get released, they’re supposed to give a valid address, but you know how that goes. Some clerk just punches in whatever they rattle off. The address he gave doesn’t even exist.”

“Isn’t he on probation?”

“He never checked in with his probation officer, so that’s a dead end, too.” Devon popped the rest of the eggroll in her mouth and let out a sigh of exasperation.

“Relax,” Jessie said. “You can’t digest properly when you’ve got yourself all worked up. I’ll make a call to the P.O. and get him violated. Not that one more warrant is going to help us find him, but at least it’s one more charge when we can hit him with.”

“It’s been over four weeks since he’s used that payphone, Jess. Where is he?”

Jessie took a bite of noodles, thinking as she chewed. “You’ve been checking Vincent Honeycutt, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I presume you’ve checked Martin Honeycutt as well. I’ll check his mother’s or even another family name against the property records. Maybe something will turn up there.”

Devon smiled appreciatively at Jessie. “Like I said, beautiful and smart. That was my next move. You know, if I were your girlfriend, I’d never let you out of my sight.”

“You are my girlfriend.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s right.” Devon loved that little quirk that lifted the corner of Jessie’s mouth, and a memory of kissing that exact spot in the afterglow of their lovemaking the night before made her heart stutter in her chest.

“Had enough to eat?” Jessie’s eyes were shining as though she could read Devon’s thoughts.

“For now.” Devon bit her bottom lip, still caught up in the vision. She managed to redirect her focus back to the present.

Jessie’s radio squawked.

“Do you have to go?” Devon asked.

“Not yet. What time are you heading home?”

Devon glanced at the clock while Jessie cleaned up the table. “Probably about eleven. You’re staying tonight, right?” The weekend had slipped by and she hadn’t gotten around to having a serious conversation with Jessie about moving in. It wasn’t often, but Jessie sometimes opted to stay with her folks.

All at once, Devon knew she didn’t want to have to ask that question anymore. She reached out to grasp Jessie’s hand. “Jess, would you move in with me? I mean for good. I know this isn’t the best time or place to ask, and I probably should’ve asked sooner. I didn’t want to pressure you. I just don’t want this to be a question anymore.” She realized she was starting to ramble, so she clamped her jaw shut and waited.

Jessie smiled, but there was something beneath the surface in her eyes that Devon couldn’t read. Hesitation, maybe. Shit. “I’m sorry. No, actually I’m not sorry. It’s all right if you don’t want to. We can keep things the way they are, but I’m glad I asked. I want my home to be your home.”

The radio on Jessie’s hip sounded. “That’s me this time.” She looked at Devon apologetically before responding to the radio call.

“It’s okay. Be careful.” Devon forced a smile through the disappointment and followed Jessie through the door of the break room. Had Jessie completely dodged the question? She kicked herself for bringing the subject up at work when she’d had so many opportunities at home. She could have asked the night before while they talked quietly before falling asleep. They had made love, sharing their very souls with one another, and for Devon nothing was more sacred than what she shared with Jessica. Why didn’t she ask her then? Or when they were watching movies together the night before? Jessie probably wondered the same thing. Devon supposed she had been born with some dominant stupid gene when it came to relationships—good intentions but a failure to execute.

Jessie turned around suddenly. Devon nearly collided with her, choking out, “Wha—”

“Yes.”

Momentarily confused, Devon shifted in order to stay on her feet.

“Yes, I want to live with you. We both know that there are no guarantees, so yes.” She smiled brightly, and for Devon it was like the morning sun banishing her darkness.

Jessie said, “I’ll see you at home.”

Home. Devon watched her go, feeling absolutely giddy, and knowing she wasn’t going to get any more work done tonight.

HONEYCUTT GLANCED AROUND while the phone rang in his ear. His caution was automatic, behavior he’d learned in the hard knocks school of prison. Even when you thought you were completely safe, you never let your guard down. Nothing was taken for granted.

The truck stop service station was quiet at nearly eleven p.m., except for a guy climbing out of a rig loaded with timber. Nobody was paying him any attention.

Someone picked up on the third ring. “Yeah?”

“It’s me.” He shielded his eyes as a semi-truck rumbled down the road, kicking a cloud of dust in the air. He wished the gas station had a real phone booth with a door.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while,” the man on the other end of the line said.

“I needed to lay low. Did you get the information I asked about?

“Yep. I checked all of the names, just to be sure.”

“No problems?”

“No one will question why I wanted the information.”

“So, what have you got?”

“I think you may have hit the jackpot. I confirmed that McKinley is a pilot with Tampa.”

“Okay, what else?” Honeycutt asked.

“A check on Jillian Gray shows she’s a sergeant with the Orange County Sheriff’s Office in Orlando. I can’t believe they’ve managed to gain such respectable positions. This is what happens when they allow a degenerate like Gray to get away with an honorable discharge.”

“You’re sure it’s the same woman?” The notes from his father’s files indicated that Gray was the subject of the original investigation back at the army’s intelligence school. She and James were together, but somehow James had gotten out of the net. Later, she escaped again with some help from McKinley and some queer-loving general. Fucking Teflon bitch.

“Absolutely. I pulled all of their service records. I’ll fax the information to that number you gave me last week.”

“I appreciate the help,” Honeycutt said. “I won’t need anything else after this.”

“Well, if you do, I’m here. Your father was a good friend.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll complete the mission this time.”

Honeycutt hung up and stared off into the darkness, finding it hard to believe that after all these years he was this close to ending what his father had started. He thought about how fortuitous it was that his dad’s cabin was right between the two cities where those bitches worked. Fate was a beautiful thing.

He fed more money into the phone and punched a series of numbers. “You got any work for me?”

“I might,” Roy said. “Two weeks a shipment’s going. My associate says you’ve been to see him?”

“Yeah, he let me pick up a little cash doing some welding. He’s kind of an asshole.”

“He’s a paying asshole.” Roy’s tone was openly hostile.

“You’re right, money is money.” With his key, Honeycutt scratched the words fuck you into the metal shelf in front of the phone.

“Exactly. He’ll let you know where and when. Do what he tells you to do, and I’ll make sure you get paid.”

“Two weeks. Got it.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“YOU MADE IT after all!” The sight of Mac stepping onto her lanai made Devon smile broadly. “Jessie said you’d be in Orlando.”

“Change of plans. Can I help you prep that grill?”

“Nah, I got it.”

Devon had become fairly adept at getting around in spite of her cast. Her crutches were propped nearby, but she had no problem leaning against the grill to accomplish her task. She gave Mac a hug.

“How’s the leg?” Mac asked.

“Good. I see the doc tomorrow and if all goes according to plan, I’ll be free of this damned cast.” She struck a stick match on the side of the grill, causing it to hiss and flare to life. Devon touched the fire to the charcoal and watched as the flame gradually caught and spread through the pile. A great deal had happened since their lunch together and Devon hadn’t even had the chance to get the latest updates on Jillian’s visit the weekend before. She said, “Dinner will be in about forty minutes, so you’ve got good timing.”

“It helps when Jessie calls to say what time to be here.” Mac chuckled. “It was really nice of her to invite us.”

“Us?” Devon took a swig from her beer and swallowed loudly. Trepidation crept into her chest and her gaze shifted past Mac to the house.

“Jill, of course. She’s over for the weekend. You don’t mind, do you?” They moved away from the heat and fumes shimmering around the now blazing fire. Devon leaned against a horizontal rail of the screen enclosure’s aluminum framework.

“No,” Devon said. “It’s just…I told Jess that you were dating Jill, but haven’t gotten the chance to talk to her about everything in my past, and—”

The sound of voices approaching stopped her in mid sentence. Jessie arrived on the deck with Jillian, laughing at something Jill had said. Their build was quite similar, with Jessie’s only slightly more slender. Devon and Mac shared a brief look before Jessie spoke. “Jill was just telling me about the first time you were in a gay bar.” She smiled warmly, stopping next to Devon and sliding an arm around her waist. “Jillian is the woman you mentioned a few weeks ago?”

“Uh, yeah.” Devon cleared her throat and downed the rest of her beer.

Jillian said, “It was a long time ago. Seems like a different lifetime now.”

Devon nodded and pulled Jessie more tightly against her side, having the strange sensation of standing in some limbo world between past and present versions of herself.

“I need a beer. You ready?” Mac asked Devon, subtly redirecting the conversation.

“Sure, thanks. There’s some out here.” Devon pointed to a red and white cooler behind the patio table.

Mac nodded, but still took Jillian’s hand and led her inside. Devon watched them go, once again grateful for Mac’s innate understanding and boundless compassion. Mac quietly afforded Devon and Jessie a private moment, while wordlessly supporting Jillian fully.

When they were alone, Jessie turned to study Devon, waiting for her to speak, perhaps. Devon worked through her thoughts, wondering what she could or should say, given that Mac and Jill would be their guests for the evening. She didn’t see how she could get into the entire story with Jess.

After a few moments of silence, Jessie placed a palm on Devon’s cheek and tilted her head to catch her eyes. “It’s okay.”

“What is?”

“Jillian being your first love.”

Devon was stunned. “How could you know that? I told you she was my girlfriend, but—”

“I picked up on a few clues. She took you to your first lesbian bar, which doesn’t necessarily mean anything. She’s gorgeous. And you looked as though you might faint when we came out here together.” She laughed at Devon’s deep blush.

“I was going to tell you about everything,” Devon confessed. “I just hadn’t gotten around to it.”

“You never have to explain yourself to me.” Jessie kissed her.

Devon hugged Jessie tightly. “I want to explain myself to you. Only, sometimes I don’t know where to even begin.”

“Honey, I never thought for a minute that you were celibate before we met, and I’m not one to spend time worrying about the past. I know what I see when you look at me.”

Devon grew serious. “What do you see?”

“My future,” Jessie said simply. “Besides, I like her. Now, I’ll get the rest of our table set. It looks like your coals are nearly ready.”

Jessie started to move away but Devon pulled her back. She wished she had the ability to come up with some witty or romantic line, but instead she kissed Jessie fully, putting every ounce of emotion into the embrace. Someone coughed discreetly from the doorway and reminded her they weren’t alone. Mac and Jillian returned to the deck, all smiles.

“Yell when you’re ready for the burgers, baby,” Jessie said as she headed back inside.

Mac wandered to the far side of the pool while Jillian handed Devon a cold beer. “I hope my being here isn’t a problem.”

“Nope. We’re both glad you are.”

“Sorry I didn’t get to visit since the hospital. I was out of town at a SWAT thing.”

“Not a problem. Mac said you were away. She also said you checked in every day. Thanks for the concern.”

“Always. You’re looking a lot better than my last visit. It’s good to see you up and around again. You had us all worried.” Jillian’s gaze bounced around, unable to settle.

Devon waved her hand dismissively. “I’m like a stubborn weed, I keep coming back.” They laughed together and the tension eased. I can do this, Devon thought. The new dynamic between them was bound to be a little awkward for a time, but for all of their sakes, she wanted to move beyond their past. She figured the investigation was a good topic to get the conversation moving. “What about the auto thefts? Did your friend come up with anything that smells of a cloning operation?”

Jillian looked relieved by the shift. “He’s still checking some of our unsolved cases for possibilities. If these guys are shipping them to Miami and then overseas, there’ll be no way to say conclusively.”

“True.” Devon smiled as Mac joined them.

“Something came up yesterday that might be of interest to you,” Jill said. “Did you see the alert about the murder two nights ago?”

“Yeah, I review those interagency bulletins. I remember seeing it.” Devon scrubbed the cooking grate with the wire brush while they talked.

“The victim was the owner of a body shop that my buddy says our detectives have long suspected of shady dealings. He’s got a rap sheet a mile long. Dealing in stolen property, grand theft, and fraud, to give you the highlights. The video from the shop is pretty grainy, and not very useful. It appears that the attacker was a white male. We think the victim knew him because they’re talking at first. Then I guess one must have said something to piss the other off and an argument ensued. The suspect pulled out a handgun and shot. He then darted out of camera range, can’t tell the direction of travel.”

“What’s this guy’s name?” Devon asked.

“Jorge Rivera. They call him Chino. Does the name sound familiar?”

“No.”

Mac said, “We don’t have a name yet for Honeycutt’s Orange County connection though.”

“I’ll have somebody check our dead guy’s known associates,” Jillian said.

“That’s good.” Devon checked the coals and noted they were nearly ready. “I know it’s a homicide investigation, but can your buddy get access to the shop and check the vehicles for VIN tampering?”

“Probably. Do you really think there’s a connection with your cases?”

“Wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility. Honeycutt is in your area, and we heard Roy tell him they’d have a job for him soon. I’d be very interested to know what was going on that got the shop owner killed. What kind of evidence was recovered at the scene?”

Jill shook her head. “Not much. Weapon used was a nine-millimeter. Other than that, nothing.

“Grill master,” Jessie called from the doorway, “here ya go.” She handed the plate of hamburger patties to Mac, who delivered them to Devon. “I hope our secret recipe burgers will be all right for you both.”

“Wow, the seasoning smells wonderful,” Jillian said. “Jessie, can I help you with anything?”

“I’ve gotten everything just about set, but I’d love the company.”

Jillian followed Jessie back inside.

“I think they’re hitting it off fairly well.” Mac dropped into a chair at the patio table. “You and Jill okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Mac. You’re a good friend.”

“Let’s dig into this dinner and that’ll be thanks enough.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’m starved.”

After devouring a delicious meal, they sat enjoying the warm evening under the stars. Jillian said, “So, Jessie, I hear that you had a pretty good tussle with Honeycutt junior.”

“I didn’t know it was him at the time,” Jessie said. “Nate and I got him on a domestic violence charge. He’d beaten the crap out of his girlfriend.”

“She kicked his ass,” Devon added proudly. “Broke his arm after he punched her in the face.”

“Nice.” Jillian gave Jessie an admiring grin before her face took on a sober expression. “Who would have thought this situation would be possible? The Honeycutt nightmare continues. I can’t believe that after everything that happened with senior, now we have to deal with the evil spawn.”

Mac hugged Jillian and kissed her forehead. “I’m not going to relax until that bastard’s in a cell. The four of us have to understand until that happens we need to be extra vigilant. Anything out of the ordinary, no matter how small, we don’t blow it off. Trusting our instincts is what will give us the edge. And don’t forget, we tell each other what’s going on.” She gave Devon a pointed glance.

“You three be careful,” Jillian said. “There’s not a doubt in my mind he’s coming back your way. I’d sure hate to have to come over here and rescue Tampa SWAT.” Jillian winked at Devon.

Devon grinned at her. “You wish.”

“Knock, knock,” Someone called from outside the front screen door.

Devon started to rise, but Jessie was up first. “I’ll get it.”

She was back in moments with Kelsey who said, “Damn, I missed the party.”

“I invited you,” Devon said, “remember? You said you had to work. We’ve got plenty of leftovers if you’re hungry.”

“Nah, I’m just bustin’ your chops. I will take a beer, though.”

Mac reached behind her and pulled a beer out of the cooler. Kelsey thanked her and cast a puzzled look in Jillian’s direction, and Devon realized they didn’t know each other.

“Oh, sorry. Kelsey Sinclair, Jillian Gray,” Devon said. “Kelsey’s one of our detectives. Kelse, Jill’s a sergeant with the Orange County Sheriff. She’s the friend I asked to help us out over there.”

“A pleasure, ma’am.” Kelsey shifted right into charm mode, flashing a huge smile and taking Jillian’s hand.

Devon stifled a laugh when Mac automatically linked her fingers together with Jillian’s other hand, sending a silent message. She was pretty sure that Kelsey flirted with everyone, but preferred men. Obviously, Mac was taking no chances. Another first, Devon thought, Mac acting insecure? She must have it bad for Jillian.

Kelsey pulled another chair up to the table. “This is perfect. I’m glad you’re all present and accounted for, because I’ve got news.” She paused for effect and took a long drink from her beer. “Dev, I went to the jail today and talked to Little Man. As you know, he was less than cooperative at our first meeting. I explained to him this time that an armed robbery charge would get him twenty-five to life, especially with his criminal history. Unless he were to tell me where I could find the gun.” She leaned forward. “I’ll cut to the chase. He eventually told me that he traded the gun and a couple of rocks to a white dude friend of Scooby’s for a car.”

“White dude?” Jessie asked.

Kelsey was beaming. “I showed him a photo pack and he freakin’ picked out Junior!”

Devon bolted upright in her chair. “Holy shit!” She and Kelsey high-fived. They all raised their bottles in a toast. “Now we’ve tied Scooby’s runner with Honeycutt. What about ballistics on the gun?”

Kelsey said, “I’ve sent the request. That’ll take the state lab a little while to complete.”

Jillian rose. “I’ll call right now and have our homicide sergeant request the ballistics comparison from our murder as well.”

“Kelse, you are the best.”

“I’ve got a really good feeling about this,” Kelsey said. “The Orange County case might be a long shot, but it feels like too much of a coincidence for our boy not to be involved. After all, Junior’s known for his temper, and when he snaps, he lashes out. Even if that murder wasn’t him, we still know he’s got the ratchet from Tampa. We have the evidence tying him to running you down, and the wire ties him directly to Roy’s operation. Those charges will put him away for the rest of his life.”

“Only one problem,” Devon said. “We haven’t figured out where he is.”

“We will,” Mac assured her. “It’s only a matter of time.”

LATER THAT EVENING, Jessie and Devon stood at the doorway bidding their friends goodbye. “That was fun,” Jessie said.

“Yeah, it was.” Jessie held the screen door for Devon to maneuver through with her crutches and closed the interior door behind them. “I’m so glad this cast comes off tomorrow,” Devon said with a sigh.

As she passed, Jessie curved an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “Now remember, the doctor said just because the cast is gone doesn’t mean you can blast off at full throttle. You have to give that leg time.” She shifted her hips against Devon’s and squeezed her backside. “You know, I’ll kind of miss the vulnerability part of it.” Her voice soft and throaty in Devon’s ear as Jessie nuzzled her neck.

“Is that so?” Devon inhaled deeply, immediately feeling the effect of Jessie’s touch in every inch of her body.

“Mmm, hmm,” Jessie continued, delivering feathery kisses along her neck and collarbone, sending a pulsing signal between Devon’s thighs. She leaned heavily on her crutches, momentarily wondering if she might lose her balance. The combination of several beers and Jessie’s talented ministrations made her lightheaded.

“Like this.” Jessie placed her open palms against Devon’s breasts. Her nipples tightened beneath the fabric as she gently massaged. “See, your hands are on the crutches, so I have free reign.” Her voice was low and suggestive.

Devon’s breathing accelerated and her heartbeat thundered in her head. “Jess?”

“Yes, love?” Jessie watched her playfully. She wrapped an arm around Devon’s waist and leaned in, kissing her thoroughly. The crutches fell to the floor as Devon abandoned them for the stability of Jessie’s neck. Jessie’s pressed her hips into her. The contact of their entire bodies made her tremble. Jessie tugged Devon’s shirt from the waistband of her shorts and stroked her skin, all the while her tongue worked Devon’s expertly. Soon clothing was an annoying obstacle and they moved to the bedroom.

“You are so gorgeous,” Jessie breathed. She peeled off Devon’s clothes before placing wet kisses along the line of her ribs and then down her stomach. Devon’s muscles jumped in response, while Jessie’s hands continued to roam freely. She stopped to remove her own clothes, piece by piece, revealing herself before Devon’s feasting eyes. Devon grew impatient, desperate to consummate this act of lovemaking. She longed to scoop Jessie up in her arms and lay her across the bed to ravage her, but was frustrated by the obstructing cast on her leg. Her annoyance escaped in a hungry growl.

Jessie giggled. “Problem, my sweet?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” She climbed onto the bed and drew Jessie to her. After that no words were spoken. Their bodies moved in concert, wordlessly communicating the symmetrical beauty of passion between them.

Devon woke hours later. Although it was now well past dark, the house was still bright with every light burning. Jessie slept soundly by her side, her head resting on Devon’s shoulder and one leg thrown over Devon’s thighs. Jessie’s gentle breathing and the comfort of lying with her gave Devon a greater peace than she had ever known. She knew for certain that Jessie was right—they were each other’s future. She lightly kissed Jessie’s temple with tears of joy filling her eyes.

“I love you, Jessica Kilbride,” Devon said aloud.

Jessie stirred awake. “What is it? Why are you crying?”

Devon kissed her softly and smiled through the tears. “I just realized that I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with you.” She held Jessie’s gaze with intensity. She remembered the hesitation when she asked Jessie to move in and wanted more than anything to erase any doubts from her mind. Whatever Jessie needed, Devon would do. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind Jessie’s ear. “That’s why I asked you to move in. Because I love you. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? You were waiting for me to say it.” She brushed a whisper of a kiss across Jessie’s lips. “I love you.”

Jessie took Devon’s face in her hands and kissed her deeply. A soul-reaching kiss that made Devon melt inside.

Jessie’s voice trembled. “I have loved you since the first day I saw you. Didn’t you know that?”

“No.” Fresh tears blurred Devon’s vision. She spoke barely above a whisper. “I never dared to think this was possible, but now, you’ve changed everything. I can’t believe how happy you make me.”

“Believe it. I’m here and nothing can take me away from you.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

NATE LOOKED UP from the daily “hot sheet” of wanted subjects and laughed out loud as Devon strode into the roll call room. “Devon. Damn, it’s good to see you in that uniform again.”

She returned his smile. “It’s good to be back.” Devon continued past the rows of tables four feet long, each seating two officers, until she reached the front of the room. She took her customary seat next to her sergeant, facing her squad. Automatically, she searched the room for Paul, the stellar rookie who was with her the day she was injured, and frowned when she realized that class had graduated at least two weeks before. Devon wondered what else had changed in the eight weeks since she’d been gone. A new group of recruits dotted the room, their fresh faces eager to learn.

“You sure the leg’s strong enough?” Nate eyed her warily from the second row. “It’s only been two weeks since your cast came off.”

“It’s a little sore if I overdo it, but the doc says it’s healed. I ran this morning and it was fine.”

“If you say so.”

“Nate, I couldn’t spend one more shift behind a desk.”

“I know what you mean,” he said seriously. “I’d rather take an ass whipping.”

“All right everybody, listen up,” the sergeant said. He read off the current daily briefs and informed them of various criminal intelligence sheets passed along from the previous shift. Nothing much regarding crime had changed during Devon’s rehab. The same zones were the problem areas just as they’d been the day she’d become a cop.

“That’s everything.” The sergeant pushed away the clipboard. “Except for welcoming the corporal back. Devon, it’s about time, we were wondering how long you were gonna milk that injury.” Laughter rolled through the training officers in the room. The recruits wanted to laugh, but smiled nervously instead.

Devon laughed with them. “You guys know you missed me,”

The sergeant stood, suddenly business-like again. “Steph, do you have the item?”

Stephanie stood and walked to the front of the room, carrying a shoebox. She stopped next to Devon’s chair with a gleam in her eye. Steph barely held back a grin as she placed the box in front of her.

The sergeant said, “Devon, the squad wanted to offer a tribute to your recovery and give you a reminder to always be mindful of traffic hazards. We got you a little something to commemorate your return.”

Nate was red-faced, barely containing his laughter. Steph slapped him in the arm, but she was trying to stifle her own giggles. Devon opened the box and broke into a laughing fit. Inside was a twelve-inch figurine of a crash-test dummy. Someone had dressed it up in a mini police uniform, complete with corporal stripes.

“You have to admit,” Steph wiped away tears, “it looks just like you.”

“Yep.”

“Actually the dummy’s cuter,” Nate cackled, supremely pleased with his remark. Devon went along with the jokes, knowing it was her friends’ way of telling her they cared. These types of moments allowed humor to mask the reality of the dangerous nature of their jobs. Now, they could all laugh at the dummy because everything had worked out. The rest of the squad took turns adding their comments and prolonging the fun until the sergeant called for order, and it was time to get to work.

“Thanks guys,” Devon said. “I’ll put this up on my desk.”

After their briefing, Devon stopped Nate on the way out to the parking lot. She loved the camaraderie and banter of her squad, but now that she was back, it was time to get down to business. Honeycutt was on borrowed time. “Yo, funny man, you want to come with me to squeeze the owner of Roy’s Auto body?

“Hell, yeah. What’s the plan?”

“My friend in Orange County says that their garage owner murder victim was a business associate of Roy’s. We heard Roy talking to Junior on the wire about his friend being able to give Honeycutt work. Our case is getting better, but it’s still circumstantial. I want to cause him some consternation. Maybe it’ll unnerve him enough to make an error. We have to flush Honeycutt out.”

“I like it,” Nate said. “Let’s go, partner.”

Devon climbed into her cruiser, itching to get back into the game. She started the ignition and then remembered the special addition she’d brought for her patrol car. A snapshot of Jessie. Devon pulled the photo out of her shirt pocket and pondered the significance of this small gesture. Never before had she considered adding any personal memento to her squad car. Other guys had pictures of their wives and kids discreetly displayed, and she recognized this decision as a similar statement of commitment. Devon flipped down the visor and clipped the smiling image of Jessie into place on the underside. Warmth and peacefulness spread though her. She sighed. The radio squawked, jarring her back to the job at hand. Time to move. Rousting Roy Beckman was a great way to jump-start her return to full duty.

They pulled up in front of the building next door to Roy’s shop and exited their patrol cars into the muggy afternoon heat. The air was stifling, with no breeze except for the hot blasts of air that pushed dust against them. Semi-trucks rumbled down the industrial road, dirt swirling. The rollaway gate of the perimeter chain link fence was open, as were the three doors on the garage bays at the east end of the building. The dirt lot was packed with cars of various makes and models wedged into rows. Farther back Devon saw what she guessed were scrapped vehicles that were probably used for spare parts. A dingy gray portable structure in the center of the lot was the office according to the filthy metal sign that hung off-kilter over the door. The sounds of compressors and air guns carried out of the open bays as they approached on foot.

Inside, Roy was seated behind a banged-up metal desk at the back of the room. A tiny oscillating fan usually seen on car dashboards moved back and forth in an arc, rustling papers on the desk and cork bulletin board behind him. The place smelled of grease, tire rubber, and body odor. Sweat stains beneath Roy’s armpits were likely the source of the last. He looked up and scowled. “I paid my last ticket.”

“Do we look like traffic cops?” Nate snapped.

“Then what do you want?” Roy glared at Nate and Devon in turn.

Devon smiled thinly at him. Beneath the bravado, she saw in his eyes that he recognized who she was. “We came to ask you about one of your employees, Vincent Honeycutt.”

“I told the detective last week, I haven’t seen him in over a month. He skipped out without paying me money he owed, so if you find him I’d like to know.”

“Oh, I think you know where to find him.” Devon spoke matter-of-factly. She moved around the office scanning paperwork and casually examining the business license on the wall.

“I already told you, I don’t know. The trouble he’s in has nothin’ to do with me. So, unless you have a warrant…” He snatched back a title that Devon picked up from his desk. “You can leave. I’m busy.”

“Who said he was in trouble? Do you know something I don’t?” Devon watched him closely.

“No. I just figured if the cops are looking for him, he’s in trouble, that’s all.”

Devon drew a deep breath and looked evenly at him. “Mr.

Beckman, let me be clear. I believe you do know how to get in touch with him. You are a liar.” The desired resulting anger flashed in his eyes. She leaned a hip against the edge of his desk. “Here’s the way I see it. The black Mercedes in our impound lot was involved in the attempted murder of a police officer—me.” She paused for effect. “That vehicle was stolen and had VIN plates removed and altered. So, we’re talking a life felony and two first-degree felony theft counts. So far. Then there’s the physical evidence we’ve obtained from three other stolen vehicles recovered recently.”

“That’s got nothing to do with me.” Sweat dripped down Roy’s brow. Devon took great pleasure in watching him squirm.

“Oh, but Roy, I think it does. I think that’s exactly what you do here.” She waved her arm in the air, indicating the area around her. “In fact, I happened to notice that BMW out by the front gate is somehow missing a VIN plate on the dash.” Roy fidgeted. He reached for a cigarette, which was amusing because she hadn’t even looked at the car.

“Not to mention,” Nate added, “an associate of yours turned up dead near Orlando. We hear he worked a similar operation to yours, but he royally pissed off somebody and they capped him. You might want to be careful who you hang with.”

Devon picked up the conversation again. “We hear that you’ve also been keeping company with some shady characters who might traffic in drugs—even guns. You might be getting in a little over your head, Roy.” She smiled to herself, watching Roy bite his dirty thumbnail.

“And,” Nate said, “if we tie the car that was used to run down the corporal to this place, the least of your worries is going to be charges of running a chop shop. Attempted murder of a police officer is a life felony.”

Roy took a long drag from the Marlboro. “What the hell do you want?”

Devon’s eyes bored into his. “Vincent Honeycutt.”

“ADAM SIX,” THE dispatcher called. A domestic disturbance was ongoing in an apartment in the housing project not far from the location of Devon’s shooting. Nothing about this poverty-stricken neighborhood had changed in six months, or for that matter, the ten years she’d been a cop. The sun had recently set, and the remaining blue of day was fading to shades of gray in the twilight sky. She listened as the details of the call were related, automatically heading in the direction of the dispute.

Most of Devon’s career had been spent in this sector and the streets were as familiar to her as her own home. She knew the corners where the kids slung dope, hung out behind the community mailboxes, or the dead end street where others gambled, their dice games often ending in physical violence or shots fired. Mostly now, the block where a routine call had ended in gunfire and resulted in the death of a teenager would stand out in her mind.

“Adam Four, I’ll be in the area of that domestic,” Devon advised as she made the turn onto Willow. She checked the computer screen for more details about the call. The female complainant said that her baby’s daddy had shown up unannounced, and they became involved in an argument. She now wanted him removed.

“All units responding to the domestic, the complainant says the suspect punched her in the face. He fled when she called police. He’s a black male, twenty-six years of age, six foot, short hair, light skinned, last seen wearing blue shorts, no shirt, and a Yankees baseball cap. Possibly westbound from the apartment, time lapse two minutes.”

The update told Devon that the man would be heading in her direction. “Adam Four, I’m on Spruce now, west of the apartment. I’ll advise if I see anything.”

“Adam Five,” Nate said. “I’m still a few minutes out. Corporal, you want me to come in from the east?”

“Ten-four,” Devon said. Two blocks away from the apartment in question, movement caught her eye. A car door opened with a flash of orange. Adrenaline flooded through her as she recalled that Scooby drove an orange car. Kelsey was systematically putting the case together and currently held warrants on Scooby for trafficking narcotics, conspiracy to commit theft, plus he was a major participant in Roy’s operation. Could it be him?

“Radio, is the complainant still on the line? If so, ask what the male’s name is.” She stopped and watched the guy lean into the open passenger door. Putting something inside? Getting something out? She couldn’t be certain in the waning light. He walked around to the driver’s side.

Devon said, “Adam Four, the suspect is standing next to an orange Chevy, one block west of the apartment. Clothing matches. I’m going to see if I can intercept him here.”

Not wanting him to drive off, Devon used her cruiser to block the car in. She automatically touched her left thigh, hoping her leg was indeed up to the task should this dude run.

Devon opened her driver’s door, and the suspect bolted.

“Shit!” Devon jumped from her car as she keyed her shoulder mic. “Adam Four, he’s running southbound through the cut.”

Nate said, “Adam Five, I’ll be on Chestnut.”

As they ran, Devon could tell she was not in top form. She prayed to keep Scooby in sight long enough for Nate to intercept him. They reached Chestnut Street at a full sprint. Devon wasn’t gaining, but she wasn’t losing him either.

The lights from Nate’s police car illuminated the street as darkness continued to descend, shadows lengthening with each passing moment. Vaguely, Devon heard radio chatter with additional units coming to help. She heard Nate call in that he was in foot pursuit. She focused her attention on her target, vaulted over a gaping pothole in the street, and followed Scooby through a break in the fence on the other side. Nate’s footfalls thundered behind her, gaining ground.

“He’s through the fence in the 1300 block,” Nate reported on the radio. “He’s coming out to Main. Need units on Main to intercept.”

Devon felt the strain in her leg, but refused to let this guy get away. She was closing the gap. They crossed over a cement slab porch. Nate caught up and ran along side her. The sound of revving V8 engines—police vehicles—approaching was wonderful. Scooby made it to the sidewalk on Main Street. He glanced sideways in the direction of the approaching units. Suddenly, from his left, the dark blur of a figure slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. He grunted when they hit the pavement.

Devon accelerated to assist with the arrest. She reached the location of the takedown where the suspect was struggling wildly with the tackler.

The officer shouted, “Get down! Police!”

“Jessie?” Devon didn’t have time to say anything more than that. What the hell was she doing here? She had his right arm behind his back with a cuff locked on that wrist. Scooby fought to break free. Jessie fought to remain on his back and keep him pinned on the sidewalk.

Devon grabbed his other arm with both hands, grasped his hand and pushed his palm inward, compressing his wrist in a pain compliance technique. “Stop resisting!” Devon ordered.

The suspect yelled in pain, but kept fighting. Nate reached into the pile and tried to dig Scooby’s free hand out. Devon drove her right knee hard into the suspect’s outer thigh while all three of them shouted at him to stay still.

Nate moved to Jessie’s side and delivered a couple of strikes to his shoulder blade area, and Scooby deflated.

Devon pushed his free hand behind his back and Nate secured the other handcuff. They searched him for weapons and then stood him up to walk him to Jessie’s patrol car nearby. After closing the rear door, Devon turned to Jessie and smiled. “Glad you happened by, but what the heck are you doing here?”

“I was on my way to court and you sounded like you needed a hand. I thought I was helping Nate, though,” Jessie said. Her gaze drifted to Devon’s leg. “How do you feel? You were supposed to be taking it easy.”

Devon bent and flexed her knee. “It feels the workout.”

“Mmm, hmm.” Jessie shot her a critical look.

“Great takedown, by the way.” Devon shifted the topic.

“Thanks.” Jessie pushed wild strands of hair back behind her ear.

“Hello?” Nate snapped his fingers to get their attention.

Devon blushed, realizing she’d lost a few moments watching Jessie. She drew a deep breath and refocused. “What?” she said with more force than necessary.

Nate rolled his eyes at her. “Which car was his?” he asked.

Devon said, “The orange Chevy. Let’s go check it out. He was doing something on the passenger side.”

They walked back to where Scooby’s car was parked along the curb. Devon concentrated on the passenger side. Darkness had completely enveloped them and she used her flashlight to inspect the interior. She sniffed. No mistaking the pungent odor of fresh marijuana. “Smell that?”

“Yep,” Nate said. He opened the console between the two front seats while Devon checked the ashtray and glove compartment. Nothing.

“He didn’t have time to do much concealing. There has to be something here,” Devon said as she shined her light under the seat. That was clean as well. She squatted in the open door frame, scanning the area. The trick, she’d learned long ago, was to look for what didn’t belong—even the smallest inconsistency or detail. She kept her eyes moving over every inch of the dash and then she spotted it. A gap around the edge of the air conditioning vent indicated it had been removed and replaced. She worked the tip of her knife under the lip of the plastic to pry it loose, and shined her flashlight into the space. The light reflected irregularly off the surface of what looked like plastic. “Nate, I’ve got something.”

Devon reached into the opening, feeling her way. She pulled out the clear plastic baggie and held it up triumphantly. The sack contained probably thirty grams of marijuana, all neatly packed in tiny ring baggies and ready for street sale. Devon took a look up under the dash and grinned. Another gallon-sized bag was filled with more ring baggies. This time, the contents were tiny cube pieces of a whitish substance that Devon knew would test positive for crack cocaine. She tossed the find onto the seat with the other one. “Check it out, Nate!”

“Yeah, and lookie here.” Nate pulled a .380 chrome pistol from beneath the driver’s seat.

Devon whistled. “The shit’s getting deep for Scooby. He must have been getting ready to make a delivery. His mistake was stopping by to see the family.”

Nate laughed. “True. I’ll start working on a wrecker to seize the car.”

Devon radioed to Jessie, “Oscar Three, can you take the suspect back over to the apartment? We need to get a statement from the girlfriend. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

“Sure thing.”

Climbing back into her vehicle, Devon smiled contentedly to herself. Damn, it was great to be back. There was no other job in the world like being a cop. The ever-changing pace, the pulse of the streets at night, adrenaline rushes, even the chance to do some good every so often—that was her life. And now that life included Jessie. She pulled down her visor. Jessie smiled at her from the picture she’d clipped there this morning.

With the scuffle over, Devon felt the familiar unease creep into her chest. The first time she’d experienced this reaction was after the fight with Honeycutt. She didn’t really like thinking about times when Jessie would be taking down suspects without her help. Not that Jessie needed Devon to rescue her. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what she was feeling. She sighed at the realization that this anxiety must be normal for a cop’s lover. Devon wasn’t sure how she felt about this new role. She flipped the visor back up. Best get used to it, she told herself as she drove. She pulled up behind Jessie’s car in front of the original address, still struggling with her thoughts.

Jessie had gotten out and was interviewing the woman, so Devon took the opportunity to call Kelsey with an update. “Kelse, we’ve got Scooby in the back of Jessie’s car.

“How’d you get him?”

“He was going at it with his baby’s mamma. Woman scorned will get you every time.”

“So I hear.” Kelsey giggled a little.

“He also had a bunch of dope and a gun in his car. Do you want to come down and interview him?”

“Nah, I’ll wait and do it at the jail. Let’s let him think he’s only got tonight’s charges for now. Amazingly, the gun and dope he could bond out on, but the DV charge will keep him without bond for twenty-four hours. I’m betting Little Man will get with him at the jail, since I scared him shitless about the life felonies on the gun.”

“Good plan,” Devon said. “We can let this run its course a bit and see what the players do.” She watched Jessie return to her patrol car. “Nate and I gave Roy a tiny push earlier, too. I told him we were close to tying him to numerous auto thefts and gave him the news about his buddy in Orlando’s untimely demise. The icing on the cake was suggesting we know he’s tied to Scooby’s drug and weapons running.”

Kelsey was gleeful. “Oh, these boys are gonna be killing themselves to turn on each other first. I’ll call the jail right now and get Scooby and Little Man’s calls monitored and recorded.”

“Now we just have to hope they say something about Junior.”

“Oh, that reminds me, tell Jessie thanks for the information she sent me. She came up with a name on the property records in Zellwood.”

“No shit? Where is he?”

“Easy, hot shot,” Kelsey said. “I’m still checking some things out. I’ll let you know as soon as I have confirmation.”

Devon frowned. “Okay.”

“I know it’s hard to be patient, Dev, but we’re almost there. I’ll call you later.”

Devon hung up and walked toward Jessie’s car, where a few officers stood talking with Nate. After chatting with them for a couple minutes, Devon walked back over to Jessie’s car. She was filling out paperwork.

“Kelsey says you got some info on the property records in Zellwood? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jessie climbed out and they moved to the rear of the car. Devon leaned against the bumper while Jessie placed her clipboard on the trunk as they talked.

“I couldn’t exactly impart that information during the foot chase,” she said dryly. “I found a couple of names this afternoon, but I didn’t have time to dig further. I figured Detective Sinclair could check it out.”

“That’s what detectives do,” Devon said. “You know you can call her Kelsey.”

“She’s your friend, it’s different for me. It’s a respect thing. I don’t want anyone thinking because you and I—” She glanced over her shoulder at the other officers and then back to Devon. “Well, you know.”

“I do know. Steph and I are having dinner later, you want to come?”

Jessie looked up from her clipboard with a smile. “Thanks, but I’ll be tied up with all of this arrest paperwork for quite a while, and I probably should get back to my sector.”

“I can take care of it.”

“Nope. The call was Nate’s and I joined in. Besides, you may have started the chase, but I ended it. That makes it my arrest. My sergeant won’t mind, he’ll like the bust.”

“I guess I’ve been told,” she said with a grin. So much for the angst she’d been feeling a few moments before. Jessie always gave Devon a run for her money. “Okay, then superwoman, I’ll see you at home, okay?” She caught a brief flash of heat in Jessie’s eyes.

Devon brushed her hand casually over Jessie’s forearm and allowed her own emotion to show momentarily. “See you in a couple of hours.” She waved at Nate and headed for her own car. First stop was the evidence room and then to resume her patrols.

Chapter Twenty-Four

HONEYCUTT SAT BEHIND the wheel, sizing up the capabilities of the officer approaching in the sideview mirror. Prison gangs stressed the need to assess one’s opponent realistically. The cop was approximately six feet tall, two hundred pounds, muscular and fit. He noted the cop’s cautious approach, blading himself, body parallel along the side of the car, tactically keeping his gun side protected. He held a flashlight in his left hand to illuminate the vehicle interior—or to double as an impact weapon.

Honeycutt’s hand tightened on the grip of the pistol he concealed along the right side of the seat near the center console. The key to winning this was to use the powerful advantage of surprise. He waited, continuing to observe the advancing cop. He was either a rookie or something was making him nervous. Most cops, while alert, were more at ease on a traffic stop. Maybe it was just instinct. Or the owner could have reported the car stolen by now. That was always possible. Either way Honeycutt decided he was not going. Another couple of seconds and the cop would reach the doorframe at his left shoulder. That would be the moment of truth.

He drew a deep breath as the cop took another step. “Oscar Three?” Honeycutt heard the police radio. The cop stopped to answer. He didn’t understand the police jargon, but when their eyes met in the mirror, it was clear the cop was even more wary. Honeycutt pulled in another deep breath. He shifted the pistol along his right thigh, readying himself. The cop hesitated at the back door and glanced over his right shoulder. Honeycutt checked the inside rearview mirror. Another figure moved through the glare of the lights on the back windshield and crossed behind his car to the passenger side. Backup. If he allowed the other officer to reach the passenger door, they’d see the gun. Now or never.

“I think I left my ID at work,” he leaned out the driver’s window as he spoke. The cop stepped forward to the driver’s doorpost.

Now.

Honeycutt twisted left and shoved the pistol forward through the open window. He squeezed off three shots, dropping him where he stood. Without hesitation, he swung the gun across the car toward the passenger window and fired again. The female cop had pulled her pistol and was backpedaling out of the line of fire.

In slow motion, he saw the action of her pistol slide working, the flash from the muzzle and the spent brass ejecting into the air. The passenger window shattered. Bullets ricocheted and lodged in the seat and opened holes in the dashboard. The smoky smell of gunpowder clung to the air.

He leaned across the seat for a better aim and cranked off two more shots. At least one found its mark. Honeycutt grinned evilly watching her pitch back and fall to the blacktop

He threw open the driver’s door, barely glancing at the first cop. He lay on his back with gurgling sounds coming from the bullet hole in his neck. Honeycutt stalked around the front of the car knowing she’d expect him from the rear. The backup cop was still able to move. She attempted to scramble to her feet, but was in a dazed state. Her eyes darted wildly, no doubt desperately seeking help. He moved closer with his gun pointed at her head, thrilled to see that one of his bullets had torn a hole in her right shoulder. Blood pooled rapidly on the ground beneath her. She groped frantically at her shoulder mic. Recognition sent a bubble of wicked laughter from deep in his throat. Hatred and rage surged through his veins.

She struggled to reach for the gun lying a few feet away. He delivered a swift kick to her already injured shoulder. She cried out, but incredibly, she still managed to wrap her fingers around the pistol grip with her right hand.

The bitch had fight in her, he’d give her that. “This is for breaking my arm,” he snarled. The next roundhouse kick drove the toe of his work boot into the side of her head.

Lights out.

THE EMERGENCY TONE sounded. “All units, we have a report of shots fired in the area of Fifteenth and Hillsborough. Passerby says officers have been hit. All units respond priority one.”

Devon switched her radio to the frequency for that sector, spun her car around, and headed east. She checked the clock on her dash. The incident was in Jessie’s assigned area, but her shift had ended thirty minutes ago. Normally, Devon would call to let Jessie know that she’d be late, but there wasn’t time right now. She hit her siren and punched the gas, already shifting into tactical mode and preparing for whatever job needed doing.

Mac’s voice came over the radio. “Air One, enroute. We’ll be overhead in about thirty seconds.” Mac was flying tonight and from the critical sound of the call, her unflappable calm would be needed.

Devon’s zone in West Tampa was several minutes away, even at top speeds. The radio traffic was at a fever pitch with officers tersely advising en route status from every corner of the city. Dispatchers continued to attempt contact with the officers on the traffic stop. No response.

Devon wondered why no one was on scene yet. The helicopter zoomed overhead on an eastward trajectory. Mac would be able to see more of what was happening than ground units. Her update would be crucial. Devon hoped fervently that there would be a reasonable explanation for it all and soon Mac would say she had located the officers and they were okay.

“Oscar Three? Do I have Oscar Three on frequency?” The dispatcher again called in vain.

Dread seeped heavily into Devon’s chest. She pushed her car to the point where her air conditioner shut down, a sure sign that she was approaching top speed. A car slammed on its brakes directly in front of her, apparently scared by the emergency lights. Her frustration exploded. “Get out of the goddamned way!” she screamed. She jerked the wheel in an evasive maneuver and swerved around the citizen’s car into the oncoming traffic lane before veering back to her side of the road. Horns blared as traffic approached from the opposite direction. Devon ignored the indignant drivers in her wake, thankful to have open road ahead of her.

Devon heard Mac’s voice. “I’m overhead. What was the description of the suspect vehicle again?”

“Air One,” the dispatcher said, “the first unit called out a blue Ford Taurus two-door with a white male driver.”

“Have officers expedite.” The strain in Mac’s voice made Devon uneasy. “I see two police vehicles and no suspect vehicle.” After a pause, she snapped, “Radio, I have one officer down. Send an ambulance.”

Devon pushed her cruiser even harder. The news of a downed officer settled like a gut punch. Several tense seconds later, a flurry of transmissions poured from her radio. One voice yelled, “Ten thirty-three. We need an ambulance! Tell fire rescue an officer’s been shot. Starting CPR.”

The ten thirty-three call was reserved for the direst of emergencies involving officers so Devon knew the situation was deteriorating by the moment. Chaos ensued as panicked officers attempted to talk at once.

“Oscar One,” the area supervisor called, “we can’t locate the second officer. Air One, can you see anything?” The sergeant’s voice was steady, but the agony beneath the surface was heart wrenching. Devon saw the glow of blue and red lighting up the darkness ahead. Almost there.

Mac took control from above. “Have units seal off this block. We’ll check the entire area with the infrared camera.”

“Ten four, Air One.”

Devon arrived as Mac swung the helicopter in a wide arc. The observer worked the spotlight, illuminating the area below with wide shafts of light. Devon prayed silently that they’d locate the second officer nearby. The officer had probably chased the shooter, but the fact that he or she wasn’t transmitting was a bad sign. She tried to ignore the combined implications of an absent officer and a missing suspect vehicle.

Devon worked to keep her thoughts focused. If there were any indication about a possible location for the shooter, SWAT would be deployed. But first they had to secure this scene and locate the second officer. She needed to find the supervisor on scene to begin coordinating tasks.

The entire four-lane road was awash in flashing red, blue, and white as she entered the area, pulling up onto the sidewalk to get as close as possible. She exited her vehicle and ducked under the crime scene tape, moving quickly to where she Steph stood about fifteen yards away.

“All units be advised,” Oscar One’s voice was now painfully strained, “the suspect vehicle is a blue Ford two-door. White male suspect is armed and dangerous. One officer is down, and evidence at the scene indicates the missing officer may be shot as well. Use extreme caution. Air One, do you see anything?”

“Negative. We’ve checked the immediate area. No signs of the vehicle or officer. We’re widening the search area.”

“The police unit here is not one of mine,” the sergeant said. “Car number three twenty-five. Radio, I need to know what officer drives that unit.”

“Kilbride is the operator for that unit,” the dispatcher said.

The sound of Jessie’s name sent a sheet of ice slicing through Devon’s gut. A roaring sound started in her ears and grew to a crescendo inside her skull. “They’re wrong,” a desperate voice screamed in her head. She tried to tell herself it must be a mistake. With the sound of the car number reverberating in her head, Devon suddenly felt oddly detached from other officers milling around the scene, as though she were watching it all from a distance.

Stephanie was talking to the sergeant. As she hurried toward them, Devon fought the rising terror within. Surely there was some rational explanation for all of this. Steph looked up and met Devon’s panicked eyes, communicating her worst fear. Still, she grasped for a thread of hope. “Steph?”

Devon looked from her friend to the sergeant. Seeing Jessie’s car number on the vehicle behind them made her stomach twist. Paramedics were loading up the injured officer, one of them straddling the patient on the gurney, steadily giving chest compressions, while another periodically squeezed the ambo bag, administering air. Her composure slipped when she caught sight of the second large bloodstain on the sidewalk behind Steph. Two shell casings stuck out in the puddle of red.

Her legs felt like jelly and her knees threatened to buckle. She pulled in a deep breath and fought to remain standing.

“Corporal, I need you to get out of my crime scene.” The sergeant issued the direction without emotion.

Devon’s temper flared. “I’m not leaving. Tell me what the hell happened here.” Her voice shook with the effort to control her temper. She tried not to look at the blood. Jessie’s blood. The thought of Jessie bleeding from a bullet wound brought bile to the back of her throat.

Steph took her by the arm to steer her from the sight and effectively interrupt the confrontation with the sergeant. “Come with me.”

Devon jerked her arm away. “No! I need to know what’s going on.” The helicopter swung back around in a widening arc and the spotlight bathed the scene in a surreal glow.

Stephanie pointed skyward. “Mac will find her.”

“It’s him, Steph. I know it.”

Stephanie’s lips compressed into a thin line but she said nothing.

“Air One to Oscar One.” Mac’s normally steady voice had an edge to it that fueled Devon’s growing anxiety.

“Oscar One, go ahead.”

“Sarge, I’m flying toward the interstate to see if we come up with anything.”

Just then the dispatcher announced, “Units on scene of the shooting be advised a citizen just called in a reported reckless vehicle eastbound on I-4. The caller said a blue car sideswiped him on the onramp. He advised he saw a white male driving.”

“Air One I’m on the way,” Mac confirmed.

A black sedan pulled up outside the yellow tape, across from where Devon and Stephanie stood. Kelsey Sinclair jumped out and hurried over to the sergeant. Devon half ran in her direction. If Kelsey had news, she wanted to know. They were losing precious time if Jessie was shot and Honeycutt had her—Devon had to push the thought away or risk losing her sanity.

Devon missed the first part of what Kelsey was saying. “…and since that hit and run vehicle matches Honeycutt’s and he’s eastbound on I-4 we may have the location he’s heading to.

Honeycutt’s print was lifted at the Orlando murder scene. It’s the only lead we’ve got right now. We’ve developed enough probable cause to write a search warrant for the property referenced in our case. I was giving Orlando a couple of days to tie their case in as well. In light of tonight’s developments—” She glanced over her shoulder at Devon. “I’ll get the warrant pushed through tonight. But, I’ve gotta wait for more troops and we’ll have to coordinate this with Orange County. We’re waiting on the SWAT commander’s instructions.”

The sergeant said, “Give me the information on the suspect and the location so that I can update the alert.”

Kelsey started to hand over the page as requested, but Devon stepped in between her and the sergeant. She had regained some composure and was thinking more clearly.

“James, what the fuck are you doing?” the sergeant barked at her. “Didn’t I tell you to get the hell out of my crime scene?”

“You can’t place that alert.” Devon worked not to shout at him.

“The hell I can’t. We need the information out there in case an officer runs across this son of a bitch.”

“That son of a bitch has a police radio. He can hear everything you put out,” she seethed. “If he knows we’re coming, you’ll be taking away any chance of catching him or finding that officer. SWAT has to handle this.” She stood vibrating with rage.

“I don’t have time for your SWAT team super cop shit right now. I have an officer missing and very likely her life is in danger, so—”

“That officer is my—” Devon clamped her jaw shut painfully and finished through gritted teeth. “So help me, if you do anything to put her in any more danger, I will fucking—”

“Devon! Stop!” Kelsey grabbed Devon by the front of the shirt and shook her. When she was certain Devon was controlled, she addressed the sergeant again. “Corporal James is right. I’m not giving out that information over the main radio. You can call my lieutenant, if you want, but I think he’ll see it our way. We’ll wait for the SWAT commander.”

The sergeant stomped over to the crime scene tech who was taking photographs. Kelsey turned to Devon. “Now you listen.” She pointed her finger at Devon menacingly. “Do not do anything stupid. You hear me?”

Devon nodded.

Kelsey pulled her radio off her belt, “Air One, switch to a secure frequency.”

“Going to TAC four,” Mac said.

Kelsey Sinclair stepped away from Devon to relay the likely location of Honeycutt’s flight. Apparently, she forgot that as a SWAT team member, Devon had the secure frequencies on her own radio. Devon was already marching back to her car as she listened to Mac and Kelsey’s conversation.

“Air One, the address is going to be 3423 Red Grange Road in Zellwood, suspect Vincent Honeycutt.”

Mac growled, “Ten four, Sinclair, I’m enroute. Get SWAT moving on this. And have somebody call Orange County’s air unit. We’ll probably need a second chopper, and I’ll need a place to refuel. We’ll probably be there a while. This guy isn’t going to give up without a fight.”

“Yeah, I know. Keep me posted, McKinley.”

“Sinclair?” Mac called. “How’s Devon doing?”

“She’s shaken, but hanging in there.”

“Good. Keep an eye on her. Air One out.”

Each minute that slipped by was more dangerous. Devon couldn’t stand by and wait for the bureaucratic interagency plans to inch forward while Jessie’s life was at stake. Devon rocketed past Kelsey out of the crime scene, lights blazing and sirens blaring. She appreciated her friend’s concern, but her singular focus was getting to Jessie. Nothing else mattered.

“Goddamn it!” she heard Kelsey yell on the secure channel. “Devon, don’t do this!”

Devon was already launching from the onramp onto the interstate, screaming past cars that were doing seventy-plus and reducing road signs to a blur.

“Devon! Get back here.” This time, it was more of a plea.

“Sorry, Kelsey, can’t do that,” she said aloud and ignored the request.

A short time later, Nate’s voice transmitted with an urgency that got Devon’s attention. “TAC Nine?” He called her by her SWAT call sign. “Devon, are you there? If you can hear me, go to SWAT Sixteen.” She knew the signal. Whenever she and Nate wanted to keep their transmission private, they said sixteen. The signal meant, “one minute on SWAT six.”

“TAC Two to TAC Nine.”

As she shot down the interstate Devon listened, but did not respond.

“Give me your location,” Nate demanded. “I know you hear me.”

“Sorry, TAC Two, I’m getting interference, your transmission is breaking up.” She said it as genuinely as she could, knowing he wouldn’t believe her.

“Damn it, you’re really pissing me off.” His voice was hard now. “I’m putting a team together to take care of this the right way, Devon. You better decide if you want to be part of the team taking him down or be detained immediately when we get there. I’ll cuff you myself, I swear it.”

Devon kept driving.

“Devon. Listen to me. You know this is personal for me too. Jessie’s important to me.” The edge of pain in his appeal made Devon wince when he said Jessie’s name. “Please, Devon. You and I can get him. Let me help.”

Devon tamped down the rage for a moment, forcing herself to think professionally. What would she do as a team leader? He was right. She did need his help. She had to focus on and utilize her training. The objective was to neutralize the threat and secure the hostage.

Jessie.

Her heart ached. Maybe doing this right was Jessie’s only chance. If she went storming in by herself, she might put Jessie in more danger. Plus, it was always better to outnumber an adversary. Nate could get Jessie out while she took care of Honeycutt.

She had to admit to herself that she didn’t even know where she was going. She drew several deep breaths to clear her head and pulled onto the shoulder of the interstate.

“Sign says I’m at the Orange County Line. Can you meet me here?” she asked.

“I’m already on the way, bud. So are the rest of the guys. This fucker is all ours tonight. I’ll be at your location in less than fifteen minutes. Stay put.”

FIFTEEN MINUTES MIGHT as well have been an eternity. Thoughts of Jessie, hurt and bleeding, taunted her in an endless mind loop. How the hell did she end up on that traffic stop? She figured it had to be the same way she’d come to be on Devon’s foot pursuit earlier in the shift. Jessie was one of those cops who had “it,” that intangible something that set her apart from the pack. Whenever something was going on, cops like Jessie were there as if by some sixth sense.

But she should have been home by the time that stop was made. Why the hell was she still at work? Did it really matter now? No.

Devon tried to shift her focus to the radio traffic to get a sense of what the response plan was, but her internal voice ridiculed her for being so inept at protecting Jessie. The image of the blood-soaked sidewalk tore at her heart. She pulled her visor down and stared at the picture of Jessie. Reaching up to touch the photo lightly, she prayed that Jessie could feel her.

I’m coming, Jess.

Was it really only the night before when Jessie had rescued her from the latest of her nightmares? She’d awakened, bathed in sweat, and trembling. Jessie pulled Devon into her arms protectively, as she had done before, calming and easing her fears with the power of her love.

Now, Jessie needed Devon and she would not fail her.

“Listen to me.” She didn’t know if she was talking to God or the devil, and she didn’t much care. “She has to be okay. Let us find her tonight, and then if you have to have someone, take me. Please.” Devon checked her watch: two-thirty a.m. They’d already lost an hour. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the seat.

She opened her eyes and watched the cars zip by, wishing Nate would appear. Then she thought he might call. She pulled her mobile phone out of the glove box. The message light was blinking. She dialed up the voicemail and the recording said she had two messages. The automated messenger indicated that the first came in at eleven thirty two p.m.

“Devon. Hey, it’s Jillian. Sorry to call so late, but I wanted to tell you what we’ve got. A car was stolen from the auto body shop the night of the murder. We didn’t know that at the time. A guy showed up this afternoon to pick up his car, and when he found the shop closed up, he eventually called us. The stolen car is a blue Ford Taurus. I’d give you the tag number, but that was found in the dumpster at the back of the business. One print lifted from the tag is Junior’s. We sent out an alert for the vehicle, but without the tag number, you know it’ll be harder to find. Anyway, please be careful and keep an eye out for the car, okay? Call me when you get this.”

The second message had come in a little over an hour ago.

“Hi babe. I’m getting out a little late tonight, but I’m on my way home now. Hope you’re being careful. I’ll see you at home in a while. Love you.”

Devon pressed the phone against her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears. Jessie must have stopped to back up that officer right after making the call. She blew out a breath and stared at the phone. Sitting here like a blubbering idiot was not going to help Jessie. Devon swiped at the tears on her face and dialed Jillian’s number.

“Hi, it’s Jillian. Leave your name and number and I’ll call you back.”

Devon thought about hanging up, but the need to reach out to someone won out. “Jill, it’s me.” Her voice cracked and she sucked in a deep breath. “Call me back, okay? I really need to talk to you.” She disconnected and stared out into the darkness, the futility of Jillian’s message arriving too late settling heavily in her chest. Had Jessie and the other officer gotten the alert on the Taurus before the stop? Was that what made the wounded officer stop the car in the first place?

On the police radio, an officer confirmed that the police vehicles at the scene were to be sealed and transported to the police lot as evidence. Devon sat fifty miles away feeling as alone and helpless as she’d ever felt in her life.

Finally, Nate pulled up behind her. She met him at the front of his car and they embraced fully, drawing strength and comfort from each other.

“She’s okay. You know how tough she is,” he said firmly in her ear. Devon swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and nodded.

“TAC Two?” the SWAT commander called.

“TAC Two, go ahead.” Nate kept a hand on Devon’s shoulder as he responded. “I’m with TAC Nine. We’re ready to go, Captain.”

“Good. Orange County is sending a team to meet us. They’re setting up a command post near the suspect’s location.” Nate took down the location information and signed off.

“Listen,” his eyes held a warning, “the only reason the captain isn’t pulling you off this deployment is that he doesn’t know who Jessie is.” Devon cut her eyes to the ground. Nate lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I want you with me. But you have to promise me now that we do this by the book. Devon?” he pressed. “I can’t go in there worrying about you doing something nuts.”

“I’ll play by the rules he sets once we’re there. That’s all I can give you, Nate. If he hurts Jessie—”

“Yeah.” Nate’s jaw clenched. “I know. You ready?”

“Let’s do this.”

Nothing in heaven or hell was going to keep Devon from Jessie tonight.

Chapter Twenty-Five

HONEYCUTT’S LETHAL STARE found Jessie’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He smiled at her as sweetly as cyanide. “Nice to see you again, Officer Kilbride.”

His captive didn’t answer. Instead, she struggled against her bindings, letting out a low moan every so often as she shifted in the seat.

“I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of using your handcuffs, since they were handy. Oh, and sorry about your shoulder.” He snickered. “We’ll just call it even for my broken arm.”

She remained silent, but the fear in her eyes made him smile. He watched her searching intently out the window, looking for clues as to where she was, no doubt. It didn’t really matter if she knew. She wouldn’t be able to call anyone for help.

The radio on the seat next to him startled both of them with a burst of static. This far out the reception would be spotty. He only hoped to hear enough. Interference covered most of the transmission, but he heard the name James before the signal broke up again. In the rearview mirror, Honeycutt saw the way his captive’s face lit up with hope.

“You want her to show up? Me, too. She and I have a score to settle. Maybe she’ll bring her degenerate friends with her. We’re here in Gray’s backyard.” He stopped as a thought occurred to him. “You know her? Gray? They have a history, you know. They were screwing long before you came along. Do you ever think about that when she’s with you?” He eyed her in the mirror and laughed in satisfaction when she looked away.

He veered off the highway at the last minute onto his exit, making a quick left at the bottom of the ramp. The momentum caused his passenger to fall against the opposite side, eliciting another pained groan. Honeycutt sneered at her in the mirror. “Hurts, don’t it, bitch?”

She stared past him out the windshield, out at the deserted stretch of road. He slowed and turned again. The narrow dirt road was almost completely concealed by overgrowth. It was tough to spot the drive even when you knew where to look, and he knew in the darkness she couldn’t make out anything beyond the beam of the headlights.

“Don’t get any stupid-ass cop ideas,” Honeycutt said. He stopped at the metal chain that was strung across the path. A rusted sign declared the area to be private property. He got out, opened the lock, and dropped the chain to the ground. Once he pulled the car on the other side, he reversed the process. Moments later he stopped in front of the rundown cabin, killed the engine, and sat listening. Satisfied for the moment that they had not been followed, he threw open the driver’s door.

“We’re here, bitch. This is it. End of the road.” He tossed the words over his shoulder at her like a live grenade. Jerking open the passenger door, he snarled, “Get out.” She moved too slowly, so he snatched her by the hair and dragged her inside.

He didn’t have time to waste. Things had changed in the past couple of weeks. Scooby had gotten popped on a weapons charge and Roy was suddenly trying to get in contact again. As though Honeycutt was going to call him. Roy was an idiot if he thought Honeycutt hadn’t already figured out that he’d flipped. It was obvious. He knew eventually someone would dig deep enough to uncover this place in his family’s records. James and her friends weren’t stupid, just depraved.

The cop he hoped he’d killed had been on edge, as if alerted to additional danger. He guessed they had put enough of the puzzle together that a police response was imminent. Good. He had preparations to make for the showdown with James. Honeycutt had watched her. He knew all about her SWAT status, and his father’s notes painted the picture of an arrogant, hotheaded bitch. Fate had placed her little girlfriend in the right place at the right time. Now he had what James wanted most in this world. Oh, she was coming all right, and he would be ready.

THE COMMAND POST was set up at a gas station just off the interstate. Devon was stunned by the police presence as she approached. Close to a hundred police vehicles from what looked like every agency between Tampa and Orlando were represented in the massive assembly. Brown and tan highway patrol cars, unmarked cars, and marked patrol cars of every color and style combined in a sort of law enforcement mosaic. This had grown into more than a police shooting in Tampa.

Most cars represented smaller agencies without the manpower or equipment to handle such a momentous task—not without leaving their own jurisdictions unmanned. These cops had simply responded to the call of an officer down, and were here to do whatever they could, even if it would only be moral support.

She pulled up to an Orange County deputy who was stopping cars. “Corporal James, Tampa SWAT.” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “That’s my partner behind me.”

His eyes were compassionate within the professional posture. “Tampa’s SWAT team is forming up with Orange County’s unit in the area nearest the command post. Good luck, Corporal.”

The deputy directed her to an open field about halfway down the street that was already filling up with patrol cars. From what Devon could see, she and Nate were the first two Tampa units to arrive. The black BDUs of Tampa’s team contrasted with the county’s green. Just ahead of her, next to the designated lot, a large RV-type vehicle painted in the colors and the large gold star of the Orange County Sheriff’s Office was parked and set up as the command post. She heard helicopters hovering and looked up, hoping Mac was still with her. Devon wished she could talk to Mac and ask her what she saw from the sky.

Nate had parked next to her and was already suiting up. He nodded in her direction when she jumped out of her vehicle and moved to the trunk. Wordlessly, she pulled on her knee and elbow guards, flak jacket and Kevlar helmet. She checked the pistol in her thigh holster. Satisfied that it was locked and loaded, she added two magazines to her gear. Next, she opened the locked compartment to extract an M16 assault rifle, slapped a full magazine into place, and again placed two additional clips into her pouches.

“I just got word,” Nate said somberly. “Berringer didn’t make it,”

Devon grimaced. “I didn’t know it was Berringer out there. Damn.” She remembered working a detail with him earlier in the year. They didn’t know each other well, but he’d always seemed like a stand-up guy. “Do they know if he stopped the car randomly or if he knew it was the stolen vehicle from the murder scene?”

“I didn’t get that much. Steph wanted us to know that the chief made the announcement a few minutes ago. His wife is at the hospital, devastated, of course.”

Devon took in the news silently, struggling not to imagine how she’d cope in that situation. Nate squeezed her shoulder and Devon shook off the morose thoughts. She took a deep breath and told herself to get her shit together.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked Nate, refusing to allow her emotions to take over. They had a job to do, and never had a job been so important.

“Boss said to suit up and meet down by the CP.”

Devon scanned the street. Several vehicles with Tampa PD logos on the side approached. The familiar sight of her team was reassuring. A dark-hairedwoman climbed into the command post, bringing a flicker of Jessie’s face to her mind. Battling injury and in the presence of a madman, would Jessie remember all the things they’d taught her in the academy about survival? Never give up. Keep fighting to survive. Do whatever you have to do, Jessie.

“Looks like it’ll be us and Orange County running this show tonight.” Nate’s voice brought her back to the task at hand. He fell into step alongside her.

They passed a couple of county guys pulling on green ballistic vests and checking their weapons. “Sarge says this is a joint operation,” the taller one said, “but Tampa will be calling the final shots. After all, the fucker did shoot their people.”

“Any word on that?” the second guy asked.

“One dead. We just got word. The other one is the hostage we’re going after tonight. They don’t have a condition, but they know she’s been hit.” He said it without feeling and Devon bristled. She had to remind herself that they didn’t know Jessie or Berringer. No doubt they would do a good job, Orange County had one of the best SWAT reputations in the state. Every cop took it seriously when a fellow officer was assaulted or killed.

Devon searched the crowded area, hoping for a sign of Jillian, but didn’t see her anywhere.

“C’mon,” Nate said. “Captain Rogers is right over there.”

A crowd of officers overflowed the space outside the command post. Portable lighting was being set up, powered by a generator on the side. In the center of the activity, Orlando and Tampa’s SWAT commanders were conferring over a rough map that was based upon aerial photos of the property where the suspect was hiding. The pilots had confirmed sighting of the blue Taurus on the property.

Now plans would be drawn to execute a rescue operation. Captain Rogers had been a SWAT officer in Tampa for nearly twenty years, and Devon had complete confidence in his leadership. Captain Helms was his Orlando counterpart. His people appeared equally loyal to their commander. Devon knew the way these operations worked, every eventuality had to be planned for. She only wished the process wasn’t so tedious. Jessie was quite possibly fighting for her life, and with every second that slipped by, Devon’s anxiety increased. She stared down the road in the direction of the target sight, desperate for a sign. Any sign that Jessie was okay.

She heard the drone of vehicle engines around her and saw nothing but dark woods punctuated every so often by a flicker of light from the recon team’s flashlights. They were like oversized fireflies, but much more blinding. She paced in a tight circle, unable to stand still as the waiting eroded her control.

Captain Rogers said, “I’ll put my best entry team in position as soon as we have confirmation that the area around the structure is secured. What about your entry team?”

“They’re arriving as we speak.” Captain Helms gestured toward the approaching pair decked out in green BDUs, flak jackets and helmets. “My team leader and assistant team leader.”

Rogers nodded in their direction. To Nate he said, “Spencer, I’ll leave you and James to get acquainted with your counterparts. We’ll work out the entry strategy as soon as we hear from the recon team. I’d like input from everyone.”

“Yes, sir,” Nate said.

Devon listened to the exchange in a detached way while she stole glances in the direction of their destination. The advance team had already headed into the night to take up perimeter positions around the property. She turned at the sound of approaching footsteps in the grass and recognized Bert from the SWAT school several months before. Devon was grateful to have someone with his skill level with them tonight.

“Good to see you again, Devon,” Bert said.

A female voice from behind him said, “I heard you might need a hand.”

Devon’s heart leapt when Jillian smiled at her from beneath a large green helmet. They shared a long look while the guys got acquainted. Devon remembered a time when Jillian could have almost read her mind. She was fairly certain even now that Jill could see something was terribly wrong.

“What’s the latest?” Bert asked.

Nate said, “The first team is setting up a perimeter around the structure. We still don’t have a condition on the officer inside, but we’re sure he has her in there.” Nate’s voice wavered as he finished the sentence.

“Is the officer a friend of yours?” Jillian asked Nate, but kept her eyes fixed on Devon.

“Yeah, I trained her, but she’s—” he looked nervously in Devon’s direction, “she’s Devon’s…uh…”

Devon bit the inside of her lip, feeling emotionally exposed in the face of Jillian’s scrutiny. She watched the recognition dawn in Jill’s features.

“Give us a minute, okay?” Jillian guided Devon away to a stand of trees. Devon peered into the darkness beyond before focusing on Jill. She’d taken her helmet off and and looked at Devon compassionately.

“The officer is Jessie?”

Devon nodded.

“Jesus.” Jill ran a hand through her hair. “That changes the dynamic quite a bit. How the hell did this happen?”

“I wish to God I knew. She was supposed to be off shift. Somehow she ended up backing up the officer that was killed.” Devon closed her eyes. “Now he’s got her, and I feel so fucking helpless.”

Jillian pulled Devon into a tight hug. “I’m here. But, listen, are you sure you can do this?”

“Yeah.” Devon pulled back. Her tone was sharper than she’d intended, but if Jillian noticed, she didn’t react. What the fuck else was she supposed to do? Stand around and wait to see what happened? If Nate or Jillian were in her shoes, they’d feel the same way, and they wouldn’t stand aside for anything.

She glared at Jillian. “I’m not leaving.”

“Okay. I had to ask. I was watching you and trying to imagine what it would be like if Mac was in that cabin.” She shuddered. “Honestly, I’m not sure I could be standing here the way you are.”

Devon looked at her evenly, struggling to hide her emotions battling for release. She realized that was impossible at this moment, and definitely not with Jill. Jillian could always see. “If I let myself think too much I feel like I might go insane.”

“Sounds normal. If you didn’t tell me that, I’d be more worried.”

“Sergeant Gray.” Both women turned in the direction of Jillian’s captain. “I need to see both of you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Two additional men had joined the staff assembled at the command post. One was a major from the sheriff’s department and the other was Tampa’s assistant chief. Captain Rogers looked upset, making Devon wonder what had happened since the chief’s arrival.

Jillian’s captain said, “Chief, Major, these are our team leaders who will be coordinating the entry for this mission. Sergeant Gray and Detective Reinhardt, and you know Corporal James and Master Officer Spencer.” Devon impatiently endured the formalities of the introductions. Behind them, the hostage negotiator was setting up with a couple of his people. She checked her watch again. Three-forty. We need to move.

The chief said, “We’ve decided that it would be best to wait for daylight and have the negotiations team take a crack at talking to this guy. That way, we can say we tried everything possible before deploying our highest level of force.”

Devon thought her head might explode. Who decided? The two administrators with no tactical experience? The fucking bureaucrats always wanting to take the cautious approach—no the politically correct approach—regardless of the situation. This wasn’t some dog and pony show media event. This was as real as it gets. Her rage surged to the surface again. “No way. We can’t wait,” Devon blurted out. “Our officer might be bleeding to death!”

The chief shot her an angry glare. “Excuse me, Corporal?”

Jillian put a hand on her arm. “Sir,” she tactfully ignored the Tampa chief and addressed her commander, “we have an advance team in place. It’s my professional opinion that we need to move quickly. From what we know, the Tampa officer left a lot of blood at the original scene. She’s injured—probably seriously. This subject already has killed one of us. He knows that because he’s got a radio. He’s not going to be talked out of there. This guy set this up because he wants this standoff. If we wait until daybreak, the officer is likely to die.”

Devon shifted uncomfortably with that statement, her blood near a boil. Jillian gripped her arm tighter as she finished. “I don’t want the officer’s death on my conscience, sir. And I don’t think you do, either. Right now, the darkness gives us cover. He can’t see what we’re doing. I agree that the negotiators should take a shot at talking him out, but only while we get assets in place. We respectfully disagree with waiting to deploy SWAT.”

The chief looked at the SWAT commanders. “Do you agree with the sergeant’s assessment?”

“Yes,” they said in unison.

He looked at the major from Orange County, who nodded once in agreement. The chief relented. “Then do it.”

“Thank you, Chief. We’ll do everything in our power to bring Officer Kilbride out safely.” She turned to address her SWAT commander. “Sir, we’ll just need a few minutes to coordinate and then we’ll be ready to go.”

Jillian cocked her head toward the road, and Devon followed her again away from the group. She leaned against a crooked tree. “So, how do you think we should handle this, Devon?”

“You’re the SWAT master. You tell me.”

“A good teacher knows when to let the student lead. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you my best recommendations and be with you every step of the way.” She reached out and squeezed Devon’s shoulder.

Devon heaved out a huge sigh. “I say we hit the place with simultaneous entries from two teams. That way, he has no idea what’s happening. He’ll have to respond to one of the strikes, and that should give the other team the opportunity to get to either him or the...hostage.” Her voice broke on the last word.

“Sounds like a good plan. Which team do you want?”

“Nate and I will take the rear. We’ll blast an entry point through the south wall. You and your team come through the front at the same time. Hopefully, the explosion will make him move and he’ll run right into one of our units. If not, then we’ll all be inside with enough firepower to do the job.”

“What about flash-bang grenades first? That’ll disorient him, maybe even stun him for a little bit.”

“No. That’s too risky. We don’t know where he has Jessie in the house. She’s already hurt and we don’t know how badly. The concussion grenades would do the trick for him, but I don’t want to jeopardize her any further.”

“Good thinking. I agree. See? That’s why you were my best student.”

Devon’s voice was hollow. “We have to be right about what we do here tonight. We’re only going to get one shot. Jessie’s life depends on it. I don’t know what I’ll do if—”

In the midst of all of her uncertainty and fears she searched Jillian’s eyes for a lifeline and miraculously found it. Jillian exuded strength and confidence, and Devon clung to that steady support. Somehow Jillian gave her hope. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I promise you we’re not leaving without Jessie tonight.”

From the darkness of the trees beyond them came the sound of a voice speaking through a bullhorn. “We can resolve this.”

“Sergeant Gray?” A male voice called from the gathering behind them. “Everyone’s here, we’re waiting on your orders.”

“Coming,” Jillian yelled back. She pulled on her helmet, leaving the chinstrap dangling. Crickets droned from deeper in the woods. Jillian pursed her lips and studied the destination in the distance before flashing Devon an encouraging grin. “Let’s go get your girl.”

Devon went to give instructions to her team, and when Tampa SWAT rejoined the group, members from both agencies formed a semi-circle around Jillian who laid out the plan. “For ease of communication and familiarity, we’ll divide into two entry teams, by agency.” She put her boot on the seat of a metal folding chair and leaned forward with her elbow on her knee as she spoke. “My team will take the front door. Tommy, you got the ram?”

A mountain of a man nodded and held up the tool in question.

Jillian pointed to the map layout of the cabin, drawn by descriptions relayed from the recon team. “The front door is on the north side. Here.” She tapped the map and then drew her finger across the paper. “James’s team will take the south side. Here. Odds are that he has the hostage in a room on the west side. There’s only one small window in that room and the shade is drawn. We’re making that assumption because we don’t see any signs of them in the rest of the place.”

Jillian pointed at Reinhardt. “Bert, you’ll have the shield. I’ll take the cover position with you as we make entry. Snipers are already in place on the perimeter.” She turned to Devon and Nate.

“You two all set with your team?”

“Yes.” Devon stepped forward. “I sent my explosive guys to set charges at that back window. Before we move in, I want the advance team to kill the generator that’s powering the cabin. The last update indicated he’s only using candlelight in the back room, but I want to ensure we have complete control. Everyone remember, this is a rescue operation. We’re going with a dynamic entry because time is working against us. When Sergeant Gray gives the go, we’ll detonate. That should open up a hole big enough to drive a truck through. Then we’ll meet you inside.” Her attempt at a smile failed under the tension, but Jillian was steady enough for both of them.

“We’ll go with our two teams of six,” Jillian said. “The object here is to breach the back wall and front door simultaneously. The explosion should be a surprise to him. We have to capitalize on that. The breach must be swift and efficient. Keep moving forward. Teams will join inside the structure and immediately begin clearing. I want this to be one chain reaction event. He feels the explosion, and then we’re kicking in doors until we reach the hostage. Once we deploy, we do not stop until the objective is reached. Resistance will be overcome forcefully. Everyone has a green light. Shoot if you have to, but be mindful of the hostage’s safety.”

Jillian’s commander cleared his throat and motioned her over to him. Jill indicated Devon should follow. “Yes, sir,” Jillian said.

The captain was obviously disturbed. “The suspect isn’t talking with the negotiators. They tried to leave a portable phone for him to talk, but he wouldn’t take the bait. When they asked him to come out over the bullhorn, he shoved the wounded officer in front of the window.”

Devon’s heart jumped. “Is she—?”

Helms raised his hand. “She’s alive. They couldn’t tell more than that. The officer held a piece of paper that was obviously the suspect’s message: ‘My father’s work ends tonight. Tell the reprobate whores I’m waiting.’ The negotiator asked what he meant. He said it meant to come and get him. ‘Fuck off,’ was the last thing he said.”

“We have to move, Captain,” Jillian said. “She’s alive. We can’t waste any more time.”

“You have the go ahead,” he said. “I’ll be monitoring from the CP and you’ll have air support for added security. I know I don’t have to tell you, Jill, but be careful. I’ll see you when it’s all over.”

Devon was already stalking back to the team, relieved that the ridiculous wringing of hands and agonizing delays were over. Jessie was alive, but for how long? All of the long days of drilling and perfecting their roles came down to this.

Devon pulled on her fingerless gloves and snapped her chinstrap to her helmet. A final ammo check. She sighted the assault rifle one last time, running the ops plan through her mind, glad her training was automatically kicking in. Jessie needed a controlled team leader, not a hysterical lover. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply to focus.

“All right people, let’s do this,” Jillian addressed the group with urgency. “Everyone switch to the interagency TAC frequency. I don’t want our target listening to what we’re doing. I’ll be Team Leader One and Corporal James, Team Leader Two. Concentrate on your execution, folks. Remember, there’s an injured officer inside.” Devon flinched as Jillian continued, all business now. “Getting her out in one piece is our main objective. Our target is armed and obviously dangerous. We get the hostage out and arrest the bad guy—peacefully if possible—but that’s his call. I’m concerned with Officer Kilbride’s safety and our own. That is our only focus tonight. You all have your assignments. We move in five.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

“GET UP.” HONEYCUTT jerked Jessie to her feet, shoving her through the main room toward the back of the house. He paused momentarily to peer out the corner of the side window into the darkness, careful to keep his body behind the wall. No way was he going to let this all end with a lucky sniper shot. He scanned the darkness for signs of the police response that he knew was building. The unmistakable sound of helicopter rotors steadily droned overhead, and every so often the glare of the spotlight lit up the cabin. McKinley.

“I could have been an army chopper pilot,” Honeycutt groused. “They screwed me, saying their fucking aptitude test showed I’d be much better suited as a combat engineer.” The fact that one of those dykes would be good enough to be an army aviator, while he was denied, was injustice on a grand scale. “Now they’ll be sorry. I learned a few skills that’ll be pretty handy tonight.”

He turned to see his captive standing to his left, directly in front of the window, apparently looking for any sign of hope. An instantaneous flash caught his eye from the darkness beyond, so brief that he wondered if he actually saw it, but he trusted his instincts. “Get away from the fucking window.” He seized her arm with a vise-like grip, dragging her behind him down the hallway to a back bedroom where he had set the stage for the final showdown. If James got through all of the other surprises, then it would come down to the two of them. Well, it would be the two of them once James watched the little bitch die.

The room contained only a single straight-backed wooden chair that sat in the center with a length of rope coiled on the floor beside it. He shoved her in the direction of the chair. “Sit.” Without warning, she kicked at him, connecting with his left knee and nearly knocking him off balance. She made a feeble attempt to get away, but he easily caught her before she made it to the door. He delivered a hard, open hand slap that rocked her head to the side, splitting her lip. She moaned.

“Don’t fuck with me.” He breathed heavily as he shoved her into the chair and secured her to the seat, tying her body and each leg separately.

“No matter what you do to me, they’ll kill you,” she said through wheezing breaths.

“Fucking bitch,” he growled and stomped out of the room. He didn’t have time to engage in verbal judo with her. He had to move quickly. The thumping of the helicopter was louder, hovering closer. That meant they were coming soon and didn’t care if he knew it anymore.

He carried a small lantern with him to the main room and worked methodically, ensuring that all of the connections were made, double-checking the placements for maximum impact. Strips of duct tape secured the final sections and he stepped back to survey his handiwork. It was sort of a shame that he wouldn’t be able to see the look on their faces right before it happened—in that second of realization that they were screwed. But really, he was counting on James being a more worthy adversary. He doused the light. The two of them had a rendezvous with destiny tonight, and in the end truth would prevail.

“ALPHA ONE TO Team Leader One,” the advance team corporal called. Devon and Jillian were going over the final plans before heading out with their entry teams.

“Team Leader One, go.” Jillian’s voice was calm control. Her eyes were darkly serious and her body language communicated only confidence and certainty. Seeing Jillian at the SWAT school had given Devon a new perspective on the person Jill had become, but it wasn’t until now that she truly appreciated the transformation. She was on top of every singular detail of this operation. Her team keyed in on her behavior and responded not only to her directives, but to every inflection and nuance of tone. This was a woman to be reckoned with, and Devon was grateful beyond measure to have Jill running things tonight.

“We have movement inside at the rear of the residence on the west side. My spotter says someone moved the curtain in the corner room. They stayed off to the side, so we couldn’t get a look at that individual, but a minute later, we got a visual confirmation of the officer in the window.”

“Did it look like he was using her to try to make contact?”

“Negative. Looked like she did it on her own and then was jerked away from the window. Just thought you’d want to know. She obviously wanted to be seen. Smart.”

Jillian glanced at Devon. “Ten-four, that’s good news. We’ll be moving shortly, Alpha One, stand-by. Good work. Team Leader One out.”

“Tampa Air One to Team Leader One.” Mac’s voice gave Devon another measure of reassurance.

If Jillian felt the same, it didn’t show. “Go, Air One.” Her voice was just as controlled when she answered Mac.

“Everything is quiet down there, Sergeant. Nothing moving between the advance team and the house. I’ve got the north side and your chopper has the south. We’ll keep a watch with the infrared until you make entry. If you need more visibility before that, just give the word and we’ll light that place up like noon.”

“Thanks, Air One.” For a split second Devon heard a touch of affection in Jill’s voice, but she was certain nobody else would notice.

“Anytime. I’ll be keeping an eye out. You two be careful.” Mac’s response was undeniably warm and both Jillian and Devon automatically looked skyward.

“Roger that, ma’am.” Jill smiled in spite of herself. “We’ll see you on the ground in a little while.”

The two SWAT teams approached the edge of the property together. Devon and Jillian both carried M16 assault rifles, and like the rest of their teams, wore heavy vests with the highest ballistic level. They would make entry immediately after the breaches at the designated points. Jillian’s shield bearer walked just to her left and Nate just to Devon’s right. The remainder of their teams followed behind in a column of twos. About two hundred yards from the house the teams split, Jillian’s team taking the front and Devon’s taking the rear.

“Give me an extra couple of seconds to make sure our charges in place,” Devon said to Jillian.

“We’ll be in position. Just advise when you’re ready and I’ll give the order for entry.”

“When you hear the blast, you’ll know we’re coming.”

Jillian smiled at her. “See ya inside.”

Devon and her team moved with quiet, stealth precision to the rear of the cabin, assault rifles trained on the darkness ahead. Devon’s explosives man had placed C4 charges around the rear window frame that would be their point of entry. Scanning the rear of the structure, Devon realized that had to be the window that the Alpha team had seen Jessie looking out from. The spotter had also said she was pulled away from the window, but not which direction.

“Team Leader Two, we’re in position, charges set.”

“Ten-four,” Jillian said.

“Alpha Leader, what direction did you say the officer was pulled away from the window?” Devon asked.

“West. It looks like maybe a couple of small bedrooms on that side of the house. Shades are pulled tight now, so we can’t see anything.”

“Copy.” Devon mentally formulated their interior search once entry was made. She turned to Nate. “When we enter and clear, we move immediately west. The rest of you guys fall in behind us. We hit the first door, the next pair immediately take the second. This has to be as seamless as possible. The element of surprise and confusion is only going to be in our favor a short time.”

Nate nodded.

“Team Leader One to Team Leader Two,” Jillian said. “All set?”

“In position, standing by for your count,” Devon replied.

“Ten-four.”

Devon shouldered the rifle to lead with the muzzle when they broke through the wall. She drew a deep breath as Jillian’s count came through the earpiece.

“On three. One…Two…Three.”

Pop. The telltale sound of the bomb tech’s switch was her cue. “Go! Go! Go!” Their charge exploded.

The team pushed forward through the blast, shards of glass and pieces of wood, metal, and concrete pelting their protective equipment. Nate and Devon advanced behind the shield bearer. Another deafening explosion rocked the night. The concussive force of the blast shook the ground. Devon instantly knew something was terribly wrong. A secondary detonation was not planned. Only the rear entry point was to be breached with explosives.

Even as the thought of a booby-trap cascaded through her mind, the team surged forward. Their objective was to make entry and rescue the hostage. No time to worry about an unforeseen event.

“No!” Mac shouted in her ear. “The front of the place just blew up! No—” The transmission stopped.

Nate cursed. “That’s bad.”

Devon moved forward anyway, forcing her mind to block out the panic that threatened to follow the agony in Mac’s voice. They still had a job to do. The hole they’d blasted was large enough for the team to scramble through single file. Static crackled in her ear. Devon peered into the smoke-filled interior, trying to see the other team, but the cloud was so thick she could barely make out the muzzle of her rifle through her goggles. She and Nate moved as one, following the shield into the cabin. Devon listened with her free ear. The quiet was interrupted only by the sounds of dust and debris settling in slow motion.

“Team Leader Two, entry made.”

They continued on quickly according to plan. There was only silence in the cabin and her earpiece as they shuffled in tandem across the open space between the kitchen and the living area.

“Clear!” Both she and Nate shouted, indicating the area immediately in front of them was safe. The other two-man teams fanned out to secure the remaining parts of the main room. She glanced sideways at Nate, whose puzzled expression mirrored her own. “Team Leader One?”

No response.

“Medic! Medic!” An urgent transmission cut across the static. “Team One has taken casualties. Repeat, Team One is down.” The fact that the voice was male turned Devon’s insides cold. Jillian was not speaking for her team. An image of Alex’s lifeless body lying in the desert flashed across her mind. For the briefest moment she paused, then moved forward with determination.

They pivoted left toward the west side of the cabin. The smoke was dissipating, revealing the devastation. Thirty feet away, the entire front entry of the house was now a cavernous, smoking hole. Honeycutt had obviously set charges to detonate on the battering ram’s impact. Beyond the opening, Team One lay on the ground like six plastic action figures. Scattered, shattered, battered, and broken. Devon forced her eyes away from the scene beyond, where a figure was performing CPR in the middle of the bodies strewn across the ground. She forced her legs to continue forward as the seconds ticked by and Jillian didn’t answer. Focus on the task. Jessie’s life depended on it and for all she knew, Jill’s might, too.

The chaotic sounds in her earpiece of the medical response battled for her attention. A voice yelled for an advanced life support response for Team Leader One. She couldn’t listen anymore, and reached up to flick the earpiece from her ear. She gripped the assault rifle tighter and set her jaw. Jessie was in this house. With Jillian down, the task of getting Jessie out now rested squarely on her shoulders. “Keep moving.” Her order was delivered with emotionless calm.

Off the main room, they reached a short hallway. A six-byeight-foot bathroom to their right was cleared quickly and now she had a decision to make. Two doors. There was no doubt that Honeycutt was in one of the rooms, probably with Jessie. It made sense that he would try to leverage her life right down to the end. He knew they were here, but Devon wanted to utilize the advantage of surprise as much as possible. Hitting the wrong door gave the full advantage back to Honeycutt and that could be deadly for Jessie.

She tapped three of the team members on the shoulder, pointing at the door to the left, immediately storming toward the next room. She knew Nate didn’t need her to speak.

As they hustled the remaining ten feet to the door, the only sounds were that of the calamity gathering outside. The overwhelming force was building for a scorched earth response to the madman’s latest act. Devon wasn’t going to let that happen. Honeycutt’s retribution belonged to her. It was now or never.

“SO, HERE SHE comes,” Honeycutt taunted in a singsong. “SWAT team.” He snorted, and spat. “She acts like she’s a fucking man. Now, the last thing you’re gonna see before you die is your girlfriend take a bullet in the head.” He raised his pistol in front of him and pointed it at the door. Without warning, the cop shoved her body to the right, tipping the entire chair. Her shoulder struck him in the left hip and knocked him off balance, even as she crashed to the floor on her side. The hole in her shoulder started bleeding again.

She moaned and cried out, “Devon...don’t...”

He scrambled to his feet and pulled a knife from his boot. “You’re gonna regret that, bitch.” His face contorted in his rage. “By the time she figures it out, you’ll already be drowning in your own blood. I learned a trick or two from some gang-bangers in prison.” The knife pierced her side between her third and fourth rib so quickly that she didn’t know what happened. She grunted and drew a labored breath, something that would become increasingly difficult. He’d watched a man die on the prison yard the same way.

The cop struggled to draw air into her lungs.

The door crashed open, sending splinters of wood flying into the room.

NATE’S BOOT STRUCK beside the doorknob, splintering the frame and rupturing the latch. The door crashed inward. He followed his momentum through the opening. Devon ducked and moved to her right into the room. She raised her rifle and the shooting started. Everything erupted in muzzle flashes and gunfire, with bullet fragments ricocheting around them.

At least one bullet ripped into Nate’s shoulder and splattered blood on the right side of Devon’s face. She focused past the drops on her goggle lens. He fell back against the doorframe in her peripheral vision. Nate pushed upright again and switched his gun to his off hand to continue the fight. Devon scrambled further right, scanning to assess the threat. At the center of the room, Jessie’s chair lurched to the side, striking Honeycutt, knocking him to the floor. He nearly dropped the pistol he’d been holding and was now scrambling to get behind her for cover.

“She’s as good as dead, James. You’re too late.” He laughed.

Devon’s field of vision narrowed to focus. Honeycutt. Holding a gun and a bloody knife. On his knees behind Jessie’s chair. His torso and head were exposed.

“Drop it,”

He raised his pistol.

Two to the body… She squeezed off two rounds that tore through his chest. The force of the shots threw him back against the wall. He dropped the gun and the knife. His shocked expression morphed into hatred as he struggled to breathe. Blood soaked the front of his shirt and dripped from his mouth as he tried to speak again. She stole a quick glance at Jessie, still tied to the chair lying on the floor. The terror in her eyes sealed the deal. Honeycutt’s arm stretched toward the gun that he’d dropped to the floor.

One to the head… The M16 barked, and it was over.

Devon slung the rifle over her shoulder and rushed to Jessie. She lifted the chair upright, alarmed at the shoulder wound and Jessie’s pallid complexion. Someone else on the team called for the medics. She removed her goggles and a glove, reaching out to gently grasp Jessie’s chin. “Jess?”

Her eyes were glassy, and the dazed expression made Devon think she was barely clinging to consciousness. But she was alive. Tears stung in Devon’s eyes as a sigh of relief escaped her lungs. Devon’s entire world was reduced to this moment.

Jessie blinked a few times. She stared at Devon, recognition slowly dawning. “What…took you…so long?” she quipped, but her breath came in short gasps.

Devon chuckled and swallowed a lump in her throat. “Sorry. I’ll try to work on that.” She worked the knots to free her, fighting back threatening tears. Once her hands were freed Devon repeated the process to release her feet, then stood and pulled Jessie up with her. She grasped her by the shoulders as Jessie swayed slightly. “Wait. I’ll call someone.”

“No,” Jessie said. “I want out of here—” She gasped for air. “Now.” She looked down at Honeycutt’s lifeless form crumpled on the floor. Devon felt only numb at the sight of his bloody body. The outcome was the consequence of his actions.

“Easy does it,” she said.

To Devon’s relief, the other team members were helping Nate through the doorway. She slipped an arm around Jessie’s waist to guide her from the room. Jessie wheezed after the first couple of steps and sagged against Devon. Was she feeling the effects of the blood loss and the entire ordeal? Probably. Devon gripped Jessie more tightly to support most of her weight, and they moved through the remains of the house.

Outside, the scene had transformed from the rigid, orderly mission to the controlled chaos in the aftermath of horror. A halfdozen ambulances sat nearby, red lights flashing against the blackness, bathing the already macabre scene in an otherworldly glow. One of the ambulances pulled away in full emergency mode, its siren piercing the night. Paramedics treated the wounded in a makeshift triage area. White tarps covered three bodies just beyond what used to be the front door. Devon assumed three Orange County deputies had died, and she fought sudden panic, silently praying that Jillian wasn’t one of them.

“Ohhh,” Jessie moaned softly.

Devon pulled Jessie more tightly against her. “Let’s keep going. The paramedics need to look at you.” As they worked their way past the injured, Devon furiously searched the faces for some sign of Jillian.

Devon guided Jessie to the nearest unoccupied ambulance and a medic met them near the back of a rig.

A stout medic said, “I’ve got her.” His words were more of an order, and he grasped Jessie’s free arm. Reluctantly, Devon released her, and the medic helped her into the ambulance where his partner waited. They laid her on the gurney inside and immediately set to work recording vital signs and treating her wounds. Devon watched for a moment from the back door, wincing as the medic nonchalantly inserted an IV needle into her right arm. The other guy cut her t-shirt to begin assessing her injuries.

“Damn,” the second medic said.

“What?” Devon tried to see around him.

“She’s got a helluva bruise on her chest. Probably trauma where her vest took a bullet.” Devon closed her eyes and said another thanks for Jessie’s survival.

The two medics hunched over Jessie, and Devon couldn’t see a thing. Now that she was safe and getting treatment, and Devon was certain there was nothing she could do, she had to find Jillian. She had to know. She climbed up into the rig. “Jess, I’ve got to see about something.”

She took Jessie’s hand, relieved when Jessie squeezed her fingers. Something in her eyes conveyed not only understanding, but also a blessing. “Go do what you need to do.” Once again Devon was certain she didn’t deserve this woman.

“I’ll be right back.” She raised their joined hands, then released her and climbed from the rig. The sound of a helicopter overhead made her look up. “Ahh, Mac.” Devon sighed, wondering what she would tell her if the news on Jillian wasn’t good.

The Tampa SWAT commander stood near what was left of the front of the house. Orange County’s forensics team was just beginning the process of documenting the damage. Bright flashes of light went off as a photographer snapped shots of the tarpcovered bodies. Shards of glass, splinters of wood, and chunks of plaster littered the area, making it look like a war zone. Mini Beirut.

The Tampa SWAT commander disconnected the call he had been on as Devon approached. “James, how are you?”

“Fine, sir.” She looked past him to where the remains of the officers lay.

He turned with her and shook his head in sorrow. “Helluva night.”

“Sir, the Orange County team—do you know…?” Fear flooded the pit of her stomach and she couldn’t finish the question.

“They lost three. Two of the others have non-life threatening injuries. Their team leader, Sergeant Gray, wasn’t it? She’s critical. The advanced life support bus that just hauled ass out of here was transporting her.”

Devon felt the words like sharp blows to her gut. “Will she make it?” she asked slowly, wondering again what she was going to tell Mac.

“They didn’t say. The TAC medics began first aid immediately. They were working her the entire time, though.” He drew a long breath. “Her commander says she’s tough as nails. We just have to believe she’ll pull through. How’s Kilbride?”

“Holding her own.” Devon didn’t mention the bullet stopped by Jessie’s vest because she didn’t want to think about it. “Captain, I—”

“Corporal James?” The voice of a young deputy approaching interrupted Devon’s thought.

“Yes?”

He looked apologetically at the captain. “Excuse me, sir. Corporal, there’s a Tampa pilot outside the crime scene who is demanding to speak with you. Should I tell her you’re busy?”

Devon addressed the captain. “Sir, she’s Sergeant Gray’s partner. If you don’t need me right now…”

He nodded. “Your debriefing can wait. Tell McKinley I’m sorry.”

As Devon approached the outer perimeter, she found Mac leaning over the trunk of a police car holding her head in her hands. Devon’s heart ached for her friend, even as her own emotions and fears churned inside. She placed a hand on Mac’s shoulder and forced what she hoped looked like a reassuring smile.

Mac raised her head and met Devon’s eyes with an anguished expression that tore at Devon’s heart. She threw herself into Devon’s arms. The two women clung to one another, each one seeking an anchor in the midst of ongoing horror. After a few minutes, Mac let go, but it appeared she was hanging onto a thin thread of control. “Have you heard anything about Jill?”

“They took her out of here to the hospital minutes ago. She’s getting the best care possible.”

“What hospital? We have to go.” She started away, but Devon pulled her back.

“Hold on. Let me find out for you and we’ll go. How’d you get here anyway?”

“Landed in the field at the end of the road. They’re probably pissed, but I don’t give a fuck. I couldn’t stay up there and not know what was going on.”

“Yeah.” Devon would have done the same. She asked gently, “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I was in the air. I heard the entry order on the radio, and I saw them hit the door. And then...” Her voice broke and tears streamed down her cheeks. “Everything exploded.” Mac stared into the night with the horror of the visions reflected in her eyes. When she continued her voice was shredded with agony. “The blast threw them in the air like paper dolls. I...there was nothing I could do. And then...I heard the...you calling Jill...and I kept watching, willing her to get up.” She squeezed her eyes shut against new tears.

Devon gripped her shoulders. “Listen.” She waited until Mac looked at her again with tear-filled eyes. “The medics started first aid right away. Jillian’s a fighter, you know that.”

“But…” Her voice trailed away as fear won out.

“Don’t even think it,” Devon countered. “Jillian has you now. She’s not giving up. Don’t you dare give up on her.”

“I’m scared.”

“Me, too. Come with me. I need to check on Jessie and then we’ll get you over to the hospital.”

She pulled Mac quickly through the wooded area toward the two remaining ambulances. “Jessie’s right here. Just let me—” One of the rear doors of the rig slammed shut and the paramedic was about to close the second one in Devon’s face. She reached out to grab the edge of the door, startling the medic.

“Let go of that door!” he shouted at her. Beyond him, the other medic spoke tensely into the phone. “Patient has experienced a hemopneumothorax to the right side of the chest cavity. Puncture wound between third and fourth rib. It appears the lung is fully compromised and internal bleeding is severe. Prior loss of blood from a gunshot wound in the shoulder is complicating matters. Patient now unresponsive.” All sorts of equipment was hooked up to a now unconscious Jessie.

The shock of seeing Jessie helpless with the medic pushing a flexible tube directly into her side stunned Devon to silence. The other medic slammed the second door and started for the front of the ambulance. Devon grabbed his arm. “What’s happening?” she nearly screamed.

“Internal bleeding. She’s taking a bad turn. We need to get her to the hospital. Fast. I can’t tell you more than that.” He slammed the door shut and jogged to the driver’s door.

“Wait! What hospital?” Devon shouted.

“Orlando Medical Center.”

The rig screamed away, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake, leaving Devon and Mac standing alone in the woods with their futures hanging in the balance.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

THE TRAUMA WING of the emergency room was a frenzy of activity. Paramedics shoved stretchers through the tight spaces, while doctors and nurses triaged patients, tending to the most critical injuries first. Clusters of officers stood in every available space, some wearing the blue of Tampa and others the white and green standard sheriff’s department colors. Mac and Devon ran down the hallway to the rooms indicated by the charge nurse.

“Do not get in the way!” she called after them.

They pushed through the double doors to a spacious treatment area. Teams of doctors and nurses swarmed around two patients on either side of the room. Devon could barely make out Jessie’s brown hair on the gurney to the right. She cringed and groaned audibly when the doctor unceremoniously shoved a chest tube into a small hole cut in the side of her chest. Blood flowed immediately through the tube to a clear bag on the floor. Devon felt her stomach flip.

“More suction,” the doctor demanded. “We can’t move her to the OR until we get this bleeding under control.”

“I’ve lost her pulse,” a tension-filled voice said from the other table. Ten feet away, the doctor working on Jillian issued orders in rapid-fire succession. Most of the medical terms were foreign to Devon, but the urgency of their efforts was painfully obvious.

One of the male nurses retrieved a piece of equipment on wheels from the far side of the room. He pushed it near Jillian’s right side and flipped a switch. The doctor at the center of the action took two paddles from the machine. “Clear!”

Both Mac and Devon flinched when the electrical shock was delivered. Jillian’s body jerked on the table, then was still again. Mac looked as terrified as Devon felt. She reached out to take Mac’s hand.

“How did you get in here?” The charge nurse returned to control the scene, grabbing them by the arms and pushing them back through the doors into the hall. “You need to wait outside now.” Her voice was commanding but her eyes were sympathetic. “The doctors will be out to speak with you as soon as they can.”

Devon took one more look through the round window at the drama continuing to unfold. The weight of Honeycutt’s crimes collapsed upon her with brutal clarity. He had done the worst kind of damage possible. Inside that room, two of the most important women in her life lay side by side, fighting to stay alive. She pressed her hand briefly to the glass, whispering, “I love you,” just before the nurse pulled her and Mac away.

“HERE.” STEPH HANDED Devon and Mac each a cup of vending machine coffee. “I know it’s wicked, but it’s the best I can do at eight a.m.”

They sat together on the green vinyl couch of the operating room waiting area, supporting each other through the long hours. Across the room, Jessie’s sergeant sat with the SWAT commander, talking quietly. The lobby of the hospital was still filled with cops, but they had ordered all but family and a few close friends to clear the OR waiting area. Devon was grateful that she and Mac had some space. Everyone meant well, but regurgitating the details of the raid to every colleague who showed up was torture. Then again, left to their own devices, the rumor mill would run rampant as the story took on a life of its own.

Devon reminded herself not to dwell on what she couldn’t control. She could only focus on Jessie and Jillian’s recovery.

“Did you get in touch with Jessie’s folks?” Mac asked. Her hands were in a constant state of motion, tapping her leg, picking at her cuticles, cracking her knuckles, or like right now, wringing tightly together. Devon could sympathize, the wait was excruciating.

“The ship sailed yesterday,” Devon said. “They have a day at sea. So, I requested dispatch to try an emergency ship-to-shore message with my cell number. The Kilbrides finally take a family cruise and this happens. Mrs. K. wanted both girls to go with them, but Jessie said she didn’t want to take the time off. Sure wish she had.” She scrubbed her face with her hands. “I hope they tell us something soon, so I’ll know what to say to them. Did you call someone, Mac? I mean, I know Jill doesn’t have anyone, but for you, maybe?”

“I called my cousin, Conner, and left a message on her cell. Jill and I went to see her play in Atlanta last month, and then we all went out for dinner. Jill and Conner really hit it off.” She rubbed her eyes, looking as bone-tired as Devon felt. “Conner called back to say she’d catch the redeye from San Francisco, which should put her here soon.” She glanced up at the clock on the wall and then back to Devon. “How’s Nate?”

“The captain says the surgery was successful. The bullet missed the joint in his shoulder, and the doctor says the muscle damage will heal pretty well. He’s in recovery now.” She breathed a sigh of relief for her friend.

“So your whole team made it. Good.” Mac forced a smile that quickly died. “Jill’s gonna be devastated when she finds out about her team.”

Devon draped an arm around her friend’s shoulder. “I should have taken the front door. Jill gave me the choice. I’m so sorry Mac.”

“Why? Then Jill and I would be out here praying for you.” She shook her head. “Wasn’t anybody’s fault but his.” The venom in her voice was palpable.

“Still…” Devon didn’t really know what else to say. She fell silent as her relentless mind projector played clips of lifeless bodies, the pure hatred in Honeycutt’s eyes, and the terror on Jessie’s face. Worst of all was the frightening unresponsive pliancy of Jessie and Jillian’s bodies as doctors and nurses did appalling things in the name of emergency medicine. A shudder rolled through her.

She pushed herself off the couch, unable to sit any longer. She paced and her control slipped. “Why don’t they fucking tell us something?”

Hours crept by with no word. Steph tried to get Devon and Mac to go to the cafeteria for some food, but they refused. “What if they come back to tell us something?” Devon asked.

Finally, Steph brought a tray with some fruit, toast, and yogurt. She set it on the table in the corner. Devon picked up a piece of toast and nibbled at it half-heartedly. A TV on the wall showed the local morning show. Aerial shots of the night’s police activity rolled on the screen with the dramatic caption, “Standoff goes horribly wrong.” Then the footage was replaced by pictures of three Orange County Deputies alongside a badge covered by a black band. Bert’s picture stared back at her from the TV and her stomach churned. The news anchor talked about preparations for the massive memorial service to be given in honor of the fallen. He finished saying it was the darkest day in the Sheriff’s Department history. Devon tossed the piece of toast in the trashcan and turned away from the reminder of Honeycutt’s destruction. She could only pray they’d seen the end of the casualties.

Late in the morning, the door opened and a young woman bearing a striking resemblance to Mac rushed into the room. She wore navy sweats, high-top sneakers, and her gray t-shirt said San Francisco Force in dark blue letters across the front. Devon knew right away this was Mac’s cousin, the star forward for the first place team in the women’s pro basketball association. The woman wrapped Mac in a tight embrace and they held each other silently for long moments. Finally, Conner asked, “What happened?”

“It’s a very long story,” Mac sighed. “Right now, Jillian is in surgery. There was an explosion. She has some pretty serious injuries. The doctor hasn’t told us anything yet.”

“Sorry it took me so long. I grabbed the first plane I could after I got your message.”

“Thanks for coming, kiddo.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world right now. You know that.”

They embraced again before Mac turned her toward Devon. “Dev, this is my cousin, Conner.”

Devon stood and shook her hand. “Devon. Glad to meet another member of the McKinley clan.”

“Actually, Conner’s a Maguire,” Mac said. “Our mothers are sisters.”

“You’re definitely related,” Devon said.

Conner was obviously pleased by the observation. “So, you’re the woman I’ve heard so much about over the years. I feel as if I know you already.” She had exactly the same smile as Mac. Conner was about six feet, two inches, with deep blue eyes, whereas Mac’s were charcoal gray. Other than that, there was no doubt they were cut from the same family mold. “Thanks for being here for Mac,” she said to Devon.

Devon nodded absently in return. “No problem.” If only I was just here to support my friend, she thought. She excused herself and went to the window, unable to carry on a conversation of pleasantries. Conner’s comment was innocent. Of course she would assume Devon was here as Mac’s friend. She had no way of knowing about Jessie or about the history Devon had with Jillian, or about anything else that had happened.

“Did I say something wrong?” Devon heard Conner ask.

“Her lover was seriously injured tonight, too,” Mac explained. “We’re waiting for word on both of them.”

The door swung open again and a slender woman clad in sapphire blue scrubs pulled a cap from her head. She approached the group and scrubbed her other hand through her brown hair to loosen it from where it had been pasted against her skin beneath the cap. The doctor smiled professionally. “Which one of you ladies is Ms. James?”

Everyone in the room turned to Devon. “I am.” She took the doctor’s outstretched hand, meeting her eyes with trepidation.

The doctor smiled wistfully. “Yes, my patient said your name a few times before we put her under. I’m Doctor Bishop.”

“Is she okay?” This was the moment Devon had prayed for, and now that it was here, dread crept through her. Breathing was suddenly difficult.

Doctor Bishop nodded. “We were able to stop the internal bleeding. Her lung will repair itself in short order. The bullet wound in her shoulder was a bit trickier. It required some reconstructing of the connective tissues and the tendons in the shoulder itself. I used titanium pins, and it looks good. With some physical therapy, she’ll have full use of it, although she may be able to tell you when it’s going to rain.” Her face lit up when she smiled. “I expect her to make a full recovery.”

Devon sagged against the windowsill. Nothing in her life had ever been as important as knowing Jessie would be all right. The relief flooding her body made her lightheaded. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she choked out.

The doctor squeezed her shoulder. “My pleasure. Give us a little longer to get her settled in recovery and then you can see her.” She offered another smile before starting back toward the hall.

“Doctor?” Mac called after her and Doctor Bishop turned back. “Can you tell me anything about the deputy who came in, Jillian Gray?”

The doctor’s brow wrinkled in thought momentarily. “The one from the explosion. Yes. She’s still in the OR.” Her eyes filled with compassion, although her face was a professional mask. Devon stepped up next to Mac, waiting for the rest of her answer. “The chief of surgery is working on her. He’s the best in his field. She’s in excellent hands.” Considering the women for a moment, she added, “I’ll go see what I can find out for you.”

A command sounded over the loud speaker. Doctor Bishop to ER one, stat.

“Sorry.” The surgeon gave them a terse nod and jogged down the hall the way she had come.

DEVON PUSHED ASIDE the curtain to enter the recovery room area where Jessie was resting. Tubes and machines were attached to Jessie’s arms, and bandages covered much of her exposed skin. Devon stifled a sob. The only sound in the room was the steady blip, blip of the heart monitor. Devon moved next to the bed and stood watching her. The peacefulness of sleep belied all of the terror she’d survived.

Doctor Bishop had assured her that Jessie would make a full recovery, but believing that was impossible until she saw for herself. She needed to hear Jessie’s voice, feel the way it always soothed and settled her. She wanted to see Jessie’s smile. That picture perfect radiance lighting up her face, never failing to affect Devon like a powerful drug.

She loved the way Jessie’s laughter rang in her ears, lifting her spirits effortlessly. Jessie’s eyes, the color of a summer meadow when she was happy, a dark forest green when she was sad, were like a churning ocean current when they made love. Devon remembered the first time she’d seen her, pumped from her workout, with her hair falling in her face, refusing to be tamed. The first time she’d kissed Jessie her entire world shifted. That kiss had rocked her to the core, stole the air from her lungs, and when she held her, she’d known instinctively that one touch would lead to an endless need.

Jessie was a sweet blood-borne infection, and Devon had a hopeless case of her. Oh, yeah, she was addicted, all right. But, if there was a cure, Devon wanted no part of it. She leaned over and gently pressed her lips to Jessie’s forehead, closing her eyes and silently thanking the heavens she’d made it this far. Devon brushed strands of dark hair away from Jessie’s brow and let her fingers linger, needing to touch her. Grateful tears rolled down her face. “I love you, Jess.”

Jessie’s eyes fluttered open. She blinked as if to bring the world into focus, then her gaze fearfully darted around the room.

“Shhh.” Devon stroked her head. “Easy, love.”

Recognition dawned when Jessie found Devon’s face. She tried to speak. “Devon…”

“Yes, baby, I’m here.” The lump of emotion in her throat strangled her voice. She laced their fingers together, concentrating on the feeling of Jessie’s hand in hers, letting it ground her. Devon kissed her knuckles as a new wave of grateful relief washed through her.

Terror flickered in Jessie’s eyes. “Is he…?”

Devon squeezed her hand reassuringly. She cupped the side of Jessie’s face and leaned in to kiss her gently. “He can’t hurt anyone again.” She didn’t tell Jessie that she planned on going to the morgue just to be certain. Maybe it was crazy, but just because she’d shot him, she couldn’t make herself believe that he was truly gone. She had a twisted need to see the undeniable proof, fearing that if she didn’t, her new nightmare would be Honeycutt stalking them like a horror movie villain, bullet holes oozing as he lumbered along. She needed to see for herself in order to find peace. Maybe then they could all get on with their lives.

Jessie was still watching her, as if waiting for more.

“Honeycutt’s dead,” Devon said.

Jessie nodded and closed her eyes. “I’m tired.”

“Rest. Everything’s all right now.” Devon prayed that her statement was true. Jillian had made it through surgery, but was still critical. Devon was glad that Jessie didn’t know what had happened. Jessie would take it hard and blame herself for the casualties last night and that wouldn’t help her recovery. The news about Jillian and the others could wait until she was a little stronger. When Jessie’s breathing became deep and regular, Devon crept out to get an update on Jillian.

Conner was sitting outside the door to the ICU when Devon stepped off the elevator, her long muscular legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankle. She stared at the ceiling.

“Any word?” Devon motioned in the direction of the double doors. A sign instructed visitors to don a gown and mask and wash their hands prior to entry.

“Not much. She hasn’t regained consciousness yet. Doc says the next twenty-four hours are critical. What they’re worried about is the blast injury to her lungs. They said the damage keeps her lungs from being able to process oxygen for her body. ” She looked over her shoulder. “Mac’s in with her now.”

Devon pushed her hands deep into her pockets and drew a slow breath. Conner stood and offered her the chair, but Devon waved her off. “Thanks, I’m too keyed up to sit.”

“Listen,” Conner said, “about earlier, I’m sorry. I didn’t know your lady was hurt.”

Devon shook her head. “Forget it.”

“How is she?”

“Jessie’ll be okay, I think. I just saw her for a few minutes. She’s resting now.”

“I’d like to meet her.”

“Jessie would be thrilled. She loves basketball.” As they spoke, Devon couldn’t help stealing worried glances at the ICU door.

“You should go on in,” Conner said.

Devon hesitated, looking at the door and back to Conner, Mac’s twin fifteen years younger.

Conner gripped her shoulder. “Mac told me all about you two in Lebanon. She also mentioned that you and Jillian go back longer than that.” Her expression was filled with empathy. “Mac said you’re Jillian’s family and hers. That makes you my family, too.” Conner gave her the trademark McKinley lopsided grin. “She said to send you in when you came by.”

Devon nodded with a lump in her throat. “Thanks.” She donned the protective gown, gloves, and mask and pushed through the door.

Inside, Mac sat in a chair pulled close to the bed. She held Jillian’s hand and spoke softly to her. Devon stood at the door, not wanting to intrude on her friend’s time. Without turning around, Mac spoke through the mask, “The doc said it’s good to talk to her. He says she needs the respirator to make sure she gets the air she needs until her lungs heal.”

Devon moved to Mac’s side. Jillian’s face was swollen and bruised. A bandage covered the right side from her cheekbone to jaw. A line of stitches snaked from her temple, disappearing into her hairline. Gauze dressings covered her neck, chest, and arms where she had obviously been burned in the blast. A large blue tube was taped to her mouth, the other end attached to a respirator on the far side of the bed. The steady hissing beat of the machine’s compressions breathing for Jillian made the entire scene much too real.

Devon thought about all of the things she would have wanted to say to Alex if the end had not been so final. Did Jillian know what significance she would always hold in Devon’s life? Before Jillian, she was just a scared kid wondering where in the hell she belonged. From the moment Jillian opened the door to that dorm room, she had finally discovered a truth about herself and who she really was.

Loving Jillian had been like trying to hug a tornado, but Devon was better for the effort. More than that, somehow Devon had seen the calm eye of the storm. The cockiness and swagger were all about Jillian preventing anymore loss or pain to her already wounded heart. Despite everything, Devon knew now that Jillian was an essential part of her life, making her into the person she was meant to be. Without Jill, she would have never known the rightness of Jessie. Hell, she wouldn’t have Jessie, if not for Jillian Gray.

Devon simply slid her gloved hand onto Mac’s shoulder. She stood there silently with her friend, every so often one of them wiping away a tear.

“How’s Jessie?” Mac asked after a time.

“Good. She was awake for a few minutes. I talked with her. I have to get back to her soon, but I wanted to check on you.”

Mac nodded and sniffed, rubbing her thumb across the back of Jillian’s hand. “I can’t lose her, Dev.” She raised her head to look at Devon. The white mask and green surgical cap covered all but her tear-filled, pleading eyes. “I haven’t told her. I...” Her words drifted away on the wave of emotion.

“Tell her now,” Devon encouraged.

Mac lifted Jillian’s hand and kissed her through the mask. “I love you, Jillian. Please. We’ll get through this, no matter what. I don’t care what obstacles we have to overcome. Please don’t leave me.”

Devon remembered a time when heartbreak and fear nearly consumed her after Alex died and how Mac’s friendship had been the rock-steady support she so desperately needed. Then, after Beirut, came the dark days when Honeycutt Senior’s relentless pursuit had destroyed any semblance of peace that she might have found. Although she was eventually cleared, the investigation drove her out of the military and nearly out of her mind. If not for Mac, she might not have made it through. She prayed that she could be that anchor for Mac now.

What Conner had said was true. They were each other’s family, and that knowledge was a great comfort. Jillian had given Jessie back to her and there was no way to describe the depth of gratitude that Devon was feeling. Once again, Jillian had sacrificed herself for Devon’s benefit. This time, she’d almost gone too far, and the implications of what losing Jillian would cost all of them made Devon feel physically sick. No, that won’t happen, she told herself. That can’t happen. Not now, when they finally had a real chance to move beyond all of the pain and find some happiness. She reached around Mac and brushed her fingertips on top of Jillian’s head.

The door behind them opened. Conner stuck her head in. “Mac, why don’t you come to the cafeteria with me for a cup of coffee, maybe a small bite to eat?”

Mac shook her head, but Conner pressed. “C’mon, Devon will stay with Jill for a few minutes and you need a break. I promise I’ll bring you right back.”

Devon patted Mac’s shoulder. “Conner’s right, you need to try to eat something. Jillian will need you to keep your strength up for the long haul.”

“All right, but call if there’s any change.”

Devon sat in the chair Mac had been using. Jillian seemed very fragile in this setting, bearing no resemblance the vibrant, vivacious woman she’d always known. That was the most difficult aspect to come to terms with. Jillian was the consummate, naturally talented leader, in any circumstance. Her strength and gregarious personality made everyone around her believe in the certainty of her convictions. Devon remembered the way Jill had convinced her they would get Jessie out alive. She had absolute faith that the team would prevail.

“We did it, Jill. Thanks to you, Jessie’s safe.”

She picked up Jillian’s hand. It was cold, so Devon wrapped both hands around it. She watched the accordian-like contraption compress and expand, listening to the steady click and hiss as it delivered precious oxygen to Jillian’s body. Precious. Yeah, that was a good word. The last twenty-four hours had reaffirmed for Devon what was precious in her life. She’d learned enough lessons in loss when Alex died, carrying guilt around and using it to deflect any chance of intimacy, and, she reasoned, the pain that followed. When Jillian re-surfaced, it felt necessary to keep her at a safe distance. Why, she wondered. Even Jessie could see the importance of Jill in Devon’s life. Now, Devon couldn’t bear the thought that Jillian might leave without knowing how she felt.

She leaned closer. “Jillian don’t you quit on us now. Mac loves you. She needs you, and so do I.” That was the absolute truth. Devon fought the new tears that filled her eyes. She reached up to stroke Jill’s hair while she spoke. “I know you tried to save me from the investigation back in Boston. You didn’t turn your back on me. Guess it was easier for me to be angry with you than to accept what we couldn’t change. You know how stubborn I am.” She laughed mirthlessly. “I’m sorry about the raid. I should have taken the front. I hope you know if I could go back and change it, I would. Anyway, please keep fighting. I’m begging you. Mac and I—we never thought we’d have another shot at love. You and Jessie are like miracles, and we’re not letting you go. You hear me? Please. We’re your family.” She swallowed hard and kissed Jillian’s hand. “I love you, Jill.”

“She knows.” Mac placed a hand on her shoulder, and Devon wondered how long Mac had been standing there, not that it really mattered. She straightened and continued to stroke the top of Jillian’s head. Her other hand found Mac’s and squeezed. “We’ll all get through this, Mac. I love you. Both of you.” Tears spilled out and rolled down her cheeks.

Devon stood and pulled Mac into a tight hug. They held each other and let their emotions flow, matching one another tear for tear. Finally, she composed herself enough to look into Mac’s eyes. “She really loves you. Before we hit the place, when you told us you had an eye on us from the air, remember?”

Mac nodded, her swollen eyes filling again.

“She looked up to the chopper—at you—and when she turned back to me, I could see it. Feel it. Love was so pure and intense in her eyes. I know that woman. She adores you.”

“Thanks for that.” Mac leaned in and took Jillian’s hand again, then sat down heavily.

“I’ve gotta get back to Jess. Don’t forget, Conner’s right outside if you need anything.”

Mac nodded.

“I’ll be back later.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

DEVON’S CELL PHONE rang. She jumped and silenced it, casting a quick glance at the bed. Jessie still slept soundly. Her parents had arrived the night before and her mom was sitting in a chair next to the bed across from Devon, humming, “You Are My Sunshine.” Devon smiled and pointed to the phone and the hallway. Mrs. Kilbride winked at her and went back to her knitting.

Devon pulled the door closed behind her and hit redial on the phone.

Kelsey picked up on the first ring.

“What’s up, Kelse?”

“First, how’s Jessie?”

“Better, thanks,” Devon said. “Looks as though she’ll be released in a couple of days.”

“Excellent. What about Jillian?”

“They’ve upgraded her to stable, and she’s awake, but still in the ICU. Doc’s happy with the progress her lungs are making. She’s still doped up on loads of pain meds.” Devon shuddered thinking about third degree burns to about thirty percent of Jill’s body. “She’ll need skin grafts. They’re cautiously optimistic, but she’s got a lot of recovery ahead of her.”

“That’s too bad. Give her my best, okay?”

“I will. Did you call just to check prognoses or was there something else?”

Kelsey laughed. “You know me too well. I knew you’d want to get the news right away. The ballistics from Honeycutt’s gun recovered at the scene of the raid matched the slug Johnson dug out of the tree at the location of your shooting. The kid you shot was one of Scooby’s runners. Apparently Scooby’s orders were to dump the gun in the river, but instead, someone sold it to Junior for some quick cash. The good word is that you’re cleared, my friend. They’re working on the press release as we speak.”

“Wow,” was all Devon could manage. She’d walked to the end of the corridor during the conversation and now she headed back toward Jessie’s room.

“And,” Kelsey continued, “we got a tip about Roy moving a new shipment of cars. Caught his crew red-handed at the port. Nate’s going with me to put the pinch on Roy tonight. You want to go? After all, it was as much your work as mine that got him.”

“That’s okay, Kelse. Now that Honeycutt is gone, I don’t feel any angst over needing closure. I put in for leave to spend time with Jessie. This is where I need to be.”

“I understand. I’ll call you when we’ve got Roy. Hell, I don’t think you’ve taken a vacation in years, have you? Go be with your girl. She might need some physical therapy.” Kelsey chuckled.

Devon played along. “Whatever it takes.”

“All’s well that ends well, buddy.”

“Thanks for the update, Kelse. That’s all great news.”

Devon disconnected the call and stood there a minute, soaking all of the information in. Finally, she could stop worrying about Honeycutt and the IA investigations altogether. It seemed too good to be true. She laughed out loud and breezed back into Jessie’s room to share the good news.

“I don’t want you in here.” Devon skidded to a halt. Jessie’s mother was at the foot of the bed, her statement directed at a dark-haired woman standing with her back to the door.

“Mrs. K, what’s up?”

“Devon,” she half whispered, “I want her to go.”

The dark-haired woman spun around to glare at Devon. “How could you let this happen?”

“Angela, what the fu–” Devon glanced at Mrs. Kilbride and then to Jessie, but she still appeared to be sleeping. She lowered her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I was worried about Jessie. You think you’re the only one who cares about her, but you’re wrong. And if this is how you take care of her, she’d be better off with me. At least I never let some asshole from my past get so out of control that they hurt her. She could’ve been killed, goddamn you.” Angry tears sprang to Angela’s eyes as she ranted. She stepped up into Devon’s face.

“Devon...” Mrs. Kilbride’s voice held a warning.

“I’ve got it Mrs. K. Outside,” she growled at Angela.

Out in the hallway, Devon’s anger burned through her. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Angela’s accusations re-ignited her own internal recriminations and gave her a place to put the rest of her rage. She grabbed two fistfuls of Angela’s shirt and pulled her from the doorway. Oh, they were gonna have this out, all right, but not in front of Jess.

Angela continued her tirade. “I heard all about it. It’s all over the station how this guy is some psycho from your past. I should just kick your ass for getting her hurt.” She tried unsuccessfully to break Devon’s grip.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she pushed Angela against the wall. This woman needed to understand that Jessie’s life was none of her business anymore. Who the fuck did she think she was, coming here and trying to bully her way into things? Did she think Devon was intimidated by her? Or was she just nuts?

“You know nothing. My past and Jessie’s and my personal business are none of your concern. I told you before to leave her alone, and I swear I won’t tell you again.”

“You’re a bitch, and Jessie deserves better.”

Devon smelled alcohol on Angela’s breath and her anger rose. “And you’re a drunk.” She pushed off of Angela and stepped away, knowing there was no point in trying to reason with her. She cocked her head to peek into the room to make sure Jessie was still sleeping, and only caught sight of Angela’s wild swing at the last second. Devon ducked and grasped her arm, twisting and driving Angela to the floor.

Angela let out a grunt when her body hit the tile, then yelled a string of expletives. Devon looked up and met Jessie’s eyes. The initial horrified expression gave way to what looked a lot like disappointment. Shit. The charge nurse told them she was calling security, and then the intercom sounded, doing just that. Angela shouted that she was a police sergeant and that she wanted Devon arrested for assault. Orderlies and two security guards came rushing at them.

Devon stood and backed away, holding her arms in the air. Her eyes never left Jessie’s, silently begging her to understand that this was not what it looked like.

One of the guards grabbed onto Devon’s arm, but when he eyed her SWAT t-shirt and fatigues, he hesitated. The charge nurse clarified. “She took a swing.” She pointed at Angela, who was picking herself up off the floor.

Jessie’s mother chimed in, “Yes, please ask her to leave.”

Angela swore as the guards took her arms. “I’m a fucking police sergeant, let me go!”

“Ma’am,” the guard tried to get through to her, “please calm down.”

“Devon, do something,” Jessie said.

Knowing she could do nothing but whatever Jessie asked, Devon stepped forward. “Listen, guys,” she pulled her badge out of her pocket. “I’m Corporal James and this is Sergeant Ricci. We’re from Tampa.”

Angela started to say something. Devon nudged her, muttering, “Shut up, Angela. Unless you want to end up in the Orange County Jail tonight.” She continued talking to the guards. “We really didn’t mean any harm. We’ve...uhh, all had a rough couple of days.” She looked at the nurse, “Ma’am, I’m very sorry for the trouble.” Devon checked to see if Jessie was still watching. She was, and obviously fully expecting more.

Devon said more assertively, “I promise there will be no more trouble. I’ll take full responsibility. You have my word. No hard feelings, right, Angela?” She extended her hand and waited until Angela grudgingly took it.

The nurse said, “I know it’s been hard on all of you, but just remember, I have patients healing. One more outburst and I’ll have both of you removed.” Her stern look punctuated the sentence.

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” Devon said. She snuck a look at Jessie, who was smiling now.

Angela mumbled an apology and something about needing to get back to Tampa. She quickly exited. Devon watched her walk down the hall feeling alternately irritated and sorry for her. She knew that Jessie was too kind of a soul to ever ignore someone in need, but Angela was taking advantage of her good nature, and she pushed Devon’s patience to the limit. Still, she had promised Jess that she would try to be nice, and instead, she’d lost her temper. Damn. She sighed heavily and headed into Jessie’s room to face the music.

Mrs. Kilbride was adjusting the pillows behind Jessie. She shook her head when she saw Devon in the doorway, but couldn’t hide a smile.

“Mom, could you give us a minute?” Jessie asked.

“Sure, honey. I’ll just go get some coffee. Can I bring you some?” She directed the question at Devon.

“Sure, thanks.”

Neither Devon nor Jessie spoke while her mother gathered her purse and headed down the hall.

Devon approached the side of the bed cautiously, watching for clues to her reaction. Jessie arched an eyebrow. Devon stopped at the railing, pushing her hands into her pockets, and dropped her eyes to the metal. “Jess, I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

Jessie held her hand out and Devon took it.

“Could you do something for me?” Jessie’s tone was almost matter-of-fact and the change made Devon look up at her.

“Anything.”

“Stop apologizing when you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But, I promised you...”

Jessie tugged on Devon’s hand to bring her closer. “Kiss me.”

Devon kissed Jessie tenderly, trying to express every ounce of her love and commitment. A tiny, emotional sound escaped her throat when Jessie’s lips opened to her. Everything in her life paled in comparison to her love for Jessie, and there was nothing Devon wouldn’t do to prove it. The kiss deepened and her heart raced. Jessie shifted beneath her and moaned, but this sound was pain accompanied by a flinch. Devon pulled away, horrified that she’d hurt her. “Jess?” Her eyes raked over Jessie’s body trying to see what she’d done. “Shit, I’m sorry. Where did I hurt you?”

“It’s okay, you didn’t do anything. My medicine is wearing off a bit, I guess.”

“I’ll get the nurse,” Devon said. She turned toward the door, but Jessie grabbed her arm.

“No. Please stay here with me. I have something I want to say.” She patted the bed next to her. Devon sat carefully, trying not to cause any more pain. Jessie waited for her to settle and took Devon’s hand, looking at her seriously. “I’m sorry that Angela keeps pushing your buttons. She’s got issues, but that’s no excuse, and I was wrong to make you feel as though I was siding with her.”

“I’m trying to work on my temper.”

“You’re fine. I know that you never go looking for a fight. Defending yourself—or me—is entirely different.”

“You make me want to be a better person,” Devon said.

Jessie cupped Devon’s cheek in her hand. “I love you exactly the way you are.”

The devotion in her eyes nearly brought Devon to tears.

After a pause, she shifted gears. “Now, I remembered earlier that there was an explosion, and people got hurt. How’s Jillian?”

“She’s umm...” Devon looked away, trying to think of the easiest way to say it, and deciding to accentuate the positive. “She came through surgery. There was some shrapnel in her arms and legs. They got that out. The blast burned her lungs and some of her skin, though, so they still have her in ICU. The first twenty-four hours were critical, and she’s past that.” Devon drew a deep breath and finished resolutely, “She’ll be okay.”

Tears blurred Jessie’s eyes and she nodded. “How’s Mac holding up?”

“As well as can be expected. Her cousin’s with her, so that’s good.”

Jessie tilted her head to meet Devon’s eyes. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.” She dropped her gaze to the bed.

“It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling, honey. Jill is important to you, I get that. You don’t have to worry about keeping that from me.”

Devon looked up at her gratefully. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Jessie smiled and Devon’s heart lifted. “The doctor says they want me to get out of bed ASAP. Will you take me to see Jill tomorrow?”

“Sure, baby. Anything you want.” Devon laid her head across Jessie’s lap and melted into her warmth, floating in the happiness that she hadn’t lost her, and drawing comfort to ease her fears for Jill. Maybe, she thought, things were finally going to be all right. She drifted off to sleep with Jessie softly humming and stroking her hair.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

DEVON FLOATED, SUSPENDED in blue-green warmth. Sounds—voices from somewhere above her—were unintelligible. Kicking forcefully, she propelled herself upward through the liquid world toward the light. She surfaced silently from the depths, and immediately felt the warmth of the sun bathing her skin, just before a familiar tender touch drew her into a firm embrace. A tongue traced the outline of her mouth before soft, pliable lips took hers, moving sweetly, caressing deliciously. Now she was floating again. This time, she drifted in a sea of sensations brought on by the exquisite kiss.

“Am I dreaming?” Devon wrapped her arms around Jessie through the water.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.” Jessie tasted her way beneath Devon’s jaw and down her neck. “But I’ll keep going until I convince you.”

Devon chuckled softly and dropped her head back, affording her lover full access to the tender skin beneath her ear. A shiver rippled through her. She reveled in the majesty of the feelings: the heat of the sun, the cool flow of the water, the brush of the tropical breeze on her skin. The feel of Jessie’s arms around her eclipsed all else, firmly anchoring and reassuring her that the world was right and she was well loved. Her hand found Jessie’s breast and tweaked the nipple through the nylon of the swimsuit, bringing it instantly to rigid attention. Jessie smiled against Devon’s lips.

“Happy?” Jessie asked.

“Deliriously.” Devon pulled their hips together.

“Hey, you two, let’s go. We’d like to eat sometime tonight,” Mac shouted from the boat.

Jillian stood beside her on the deck with a crutch under one arm and the other arm curved around Mac’s waist. She looked incredible despite the brace on her leg and a bandage on her arm from the final skin graft. They’d spent the day on Mac’s boat, enjoying the sunshine and the water. Jillian had to stay beneath the canopy of the boat due to the sensitivity of the new skin. With the exception of a quick dip, Mac had remained by her side all day. Devon still couldn’t quite believe how well Jillian was recovering after only three months.

Devon rolled her eyes. “We were waiting for the boat to stop rocking.”

Mac laughed out loud. “Look who’s talking.” She reached out a hand to help Jessie climb on board. When Mac offered her hand, Devon jerked her over the side and into the water. She laughed heartily when Mac surfaced, wide-eyed and sputtering.

“Devon!” Jessie gasped.

“Oops, sorry,” Devon said with mock sincerity for Jessie’s benefit.

“You are not,” Mac said, but then she was chuckling too. She grabbed Devon and dunked her under the water in retaliation.

When they popped back up, they both said “Ass,” in unison, then burst into new fits of laughter. Devon marveled at the exquisite gift of this lighthearted moment after all they’d been through so recently.

They were still grinning a short time later when they pulled up anchor, preparing to return to the marina. Mac had promised Jessie a turn at the helm and the two were chatting about boats and learning to water ski as children. Jessie opened up the throttle when they cleared the channel.

Devon took a seat beneath the canopy next to Jillian. Jill’s rich auburn hair whipped around her, and she tilted her face into the wind while the sun set the western sky ablaze with color beyond her. She looked relaxed and very content leaning against the rail, her eyes closed, obviously enjoying the moment. The sight triggered memories of a younger Jillian, and it made Devon smile to recall their history with fondness. No sparks. No anguish. Just a warm sense of understanding, and maybe even belonging.

“Hey.”

The corner of Jillian’s mouth lifted before she opened her eyes. “Hey.”

“How ya doin’?”

“At this moment? Perfect.” Jillian gazed momentarily past Devon to give Mac a bright smile. “But I know that wasn’t the question.” She grew more sober and futilely attempted to tuck some hair behind her ears.

It was a stall tactic that Devon recognized. “So? Tell me.”

“I’ll be fine. Gotta take what life gives you and make the best of it, right?” She touched the new pink skin on her neck. A scar across her temple and forehead remained as another reminder of her close call. “Guess I’m learning some life lessons.” Jillian’s forced smile was the one she displayed to the world when she was feeling her most vulnerable.

“What? That being hard-headed is good for something?” Devon joked, but Jillian remained serious. Devon waited, watching Jill fiddle with a strap on the brace, knowing she had always been reticent when it came to her own emotions. Finally, she raised her eyes, more contrite than Devon had ever seen her.

“Funny, how with all the life-threatening things we survived that night, this knee is what’ll keep me from ever being a cop again.”

“You don’t really think that.” Jill was strong, Devon was sure she could make it back from the injury.

“The doctor will consider it a success if I can walk without a cane. My days of kicking in doors are over, I’m afraid. I’ll have to take a disability retirement.”

“Wow.” Devon slumped back in her chair under the weight of the news. “Sorry, Jill.”

“It’s okay. I’ve known for a couple of weeks now. Mac and I have come to terms with my new realities.” Mac turned and cast an adoring glance over her shoulder at Jillian, and she blew Mac an air kiss in response.

She continued to Devon, “Regardless of what’s happened in my life, I’ve always had my physical ability and my looks to fall back on—sometimes to hide behind. You know that better than anyone, I guess.” She bit her bottom lip and her brow knit together. “I wanted to get Jessie out. For you. To somehow...I don’t know...atone for the pain I’d caused you as a result of my choices— well meaning as they may have been. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what’s important.” She glanced over to where Mac and Jessie were sharing a joke and smiled. “Thank you for giving me a chance to be a part of your life again. I’ll always be here for you.”

The emotion in Jill’s voice pulled Devon in. Ever since the night of the standoff, she had tried to put on a brave front for all of them, dealing with her own emotions alone. Jessie and Jillian were both healing and Mac was worried sick about Jill’s recovery, and Devon hadn’t wanted to add to their stress. She didn’t talk about the terror she’d felt when it became clear that Jessie was a wounded hostage or the way the blast that had hit Jillian made her relive Alex’s murder in Beirut. But now, this demonstrative new Jillian was tearing at her self-control. Hot tears filled her eyes.

“What?” Jill searched Devon’s face.

“I’m just so grateful. I thought I might lose both of you that night. I couldn’t have survived that loss.” She looked at Jessie and back to Jill, pulling in a long breath and exhaling slowly. “I almost forgot. I have something for you.” Devon climbed down into the galley area and retrieved an item from her bag that she’d been carrying around since just after the raid, waiting for the right moment. She took Jillian’s hand and turned it palm up to place her gift in the center, covering it with her other hand, and pressing firmly. “I’ve been waiting over ten years to return these. It’s only right that I give them back now that you’ve given Jessie back to me.”

“What are they?” Jillian asked.

Devon released her grip and Jillian opened her hand, laughing through tears when she saw the set of dog tags. Jillian had left her military ID necklace on Devon’s pillow the day she’d left Boston. Devon finally knew why she’d kept them all these years.

Jillian held them up in the sunlight and they jingled like a wind chime in the breeze. “You’re amazing,” Jillian said.

They hugged each other tightly. For Devon, the connection represented a healing bridge between her past and present, light breaking through darkness. Eventually, they separated and Jillian sighed. “Thanks, I needed that.”

“We both did.” The feel of Jill’s hand in hers was soothing. The engine downshifted and the boat floated on a swell, slowing near the dock. Jessie had relinquished the wheel to Mac, who guided them in and cut the motor. Devon jumped up to grab a line, helping Mac tether the craft securely.

Jessie helped Jillian climb onto the dock. “Do you want any help, Mac?”

“No, we’ve got it. You two head inside.”

They carried the coolers and other supplies to the garage. Devon dumped the empty bottles in the trash and rinsed out the cooler.

Mac stowed the ski rope and the picnic basket on a shelf, then without turning around asked, “So, are you two all right?”

“Yeah. We are.” Devon knew Mac wasn’t jealous. She simply felt it was important for Devon and Jillian to move beyond the hurt of the past to forge a new kind of friendship.

“Good.” She closed the cabinet and turned around. “I truly love her, Dev.”

“I know. And guess what? She’s crazy about you, too.” Mac blushed and shuffled her feet. Devon laughed. “Whatever happened to the cocksure army pilot I once met?”

“She met her match, I guess.” Mac grinned sheepishly. “You and Jess want to stay for dinner?”

“Thanks, but I think we’ll take a rain check.” She was still feeling the effects of the conversation with Jillian and wanted to have some quiet time alone with Jessie.

“Sure thing. Let’s plan on the basketball game in a couple of weeks, though? I know Conner wants to see you both.”

“It’s a date.”

DEVON ROLLED TO her right, automatically reaching for Jessie. The bed was empty beside her. She came fully awake, listening in the darkness, hearing nothing but the sound of the air conditioner blowing. She climbed out of bed and padded through the house to search. Lost in thought, Jessie sat sideways on the couch with her legs pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees. Devon stepped behind Jessie and placed her hands lightly on her shoulders. Moonlight shone in through the patio glass doors, providing the only light in the room.

“You okay?” She moved to Jessie’s side and squatted next to the couch in order to see her face.

Jessie gave a slight nod without making eye contact. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Devon watched her for a few moments. She knew what it felt like when the nightmares took over your sleep and wished there was a way to erase the horrors from Jessie’s memory. Considering all that had happened to her, Devon thought Jessie was doing very well. Her rehab appointments had been cut to once a week, and the doctor had hopes of Jessie returning to full duty within another month. The emotional scars would take a bit longer to heal. Honestly, Devon wondered if Jessie would ever be able to conduct a traffic stop without flashing back to the shooting. Could anyone?

“I’m here, baby.” She took Jessie’s hand, thankful when Jessie squeezed hers in return. Devon sat on the couch and pulled Jessie’s legs across her lap. She reached out to run a hand through her hair, waiting for Jessie to speak. Devon knew she would because they were very different in that regard. Jessie opened up and talked about her fears, whereas Devon had always locked her emotions away inside. At least before she’d met Jess. Now she had learned by Jessie’s example that sharing one’s feelings was actually strength, not weakness.

“I know he’s gone, but sometimes the dreams seem so real.” Jessie fiddled with the seam on the edge of Devon’s boxers as she spoke. Devon waited.

“I keep wondering how I survived and those guys from Orlando didn’t. And then Jill. I can’t look at her without feeling somehow responsible.”

“It’s not your fault.” Devon pulled Jessie onto her lap and wrapped her arms tightly around her. She nuzzled Jessie’s neck. “The dreams are normal, Jess. Look at me. You of all people know about my nightmares about Beirut and Alex. Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“The night after the standoff, I snuck down to the morgue. I had to see Honeycutt’s body, just to be sure.”

“Did it help?” Jessie asked.

“Yes.” She gave Jessie a squeeze. “You want to know what I think? I think you’re about the bravest woman I’ve ever known. In the face of everything that happened to you, you didn’t quit. You stayed strong and focused on your survival, and that’s absolutely amazing, Jess. Doubts and fears are normal parts of the process. The good thing is that you have me and Jill and Mac to talk to about things. A lot of times it’s enough that someone knows where you’re coming from. I’m not minimizing your feelings by telling you it will get better, but it will. Trust me.” She kissed Jessie on the cheek.

Jessie turned to accept the next kiss on the lips. “I do trust you. In fact, I think you’ve been better recently. Your nightmares haven’t been a problem lately, have they?”

“No. I was thinking about that the other day. The last one I remember having was before your shooting. When you made me open up to you about Alex and the past.”

“Did I make you talk about it?”

“You made me want to tell you the whole story, and I have a theory about it.”

Jessie studied her. “A theory, huh? Tell me.”

“Simple,” Devon said. “You cured me.” Jessie gave her a puzzled look. “I finally let go of everything because I knew I was safe with you. Your love helped me to finally move beyond my past.”

“I know I haven’t been very good for you lately.”

Devon started to disagree, but Jessie touched a finger to her lips. “It’s true. You’ve been so wonderfully supportive and protective. Never pressing. I was going to wake you up earlier. Guess I needed some of your healing.”

“Jess, don’t ever worry about it if you need to talk. Nothing is more important to me than you. I’ll always listen.”

Jessie traced her finger along Devon’s jaw, her neck and then down her chest. She stopped and applied pressure to a nipple, and it stiffened beneath the fabric. Her eyebrow arched and she bit her lip. “What if I needed more than conversation?”

Devon felt wetness pool between her legs. Jessie could do that—reduce her to a puddle of need with a look. She placed her hand along the side of Jessie’s face and traced her thumb over her lips.

Jessie’s expression was filled with pure love as she stared into Devon’s eyes. Neither moved for long moments, wordlessly expressing depths of emotion that Devon would never have thought possible before. Jessie worked her hand beneath Devon’s t-shirt to lightly stroke her stomach. Devon explored the soft skin beneath Jessie’s top. She grinned when Jessie let out a soft sigh and shifted closer. Devon slipped her hand higher to Jessie’s breasts, and caught Jessie’s gasp of pleasure with a deep, searing kiss, meant to eliminate all other thought in this moment.

Jessie stood and pulled Devon up from the couch, leading her back to the bedroom. They stopped with the back of Devon’s legs touching the foot of the bed. Jessie’s sexy smile sent electric charges beneath her skin. Devon drew Jessie into her arms and kissed her way along the tender skin of her neck, delighting in the pulse beating against her lips. The lavender and vanilla from her earlier shower still clung to her hair. Jessie’s scent triggered primal responses and Devon’s heart raced.

Jessie pushed her down on the bed and straddled her hips to stand over Devon, grasping the bottom of her nightshirt to strip it off. Devon’s eyes roamed over every gorgeous curve and contour before her. Was it possible that Jessie grew more beautiful with every passing day? She touched the pink scar tissue along Jessie’ shoulder and stopped there momentarily.

“Do you feel differently about me now?” Jessie asked.

Devon tried to read Jessie’s face to understand her meaning. The clouds of doubt she saw stabbed her heart. She glanced to where her hand rested on Jessie’s shoulder and realization dawned. “What? Oh, Jess. This? If anything I love you more. You amaze me with your strength and beauty.”

The relief in Jessie’s eyes made Devon want to weep. How could Jessie think her feelings had changed? They hadn’t been very physical since the incident, but that was because Devon was always mindful of Jessie’s recovery. She didn’t want to push Jessie in any way. Devon was stunned to think Jessie had interpreted the distance differently. “God, Jess, I love you. I’m not very good at communication, I know. I just haven’t wanted to hurt you, and I worry that I can’t give you what you need.”

“I won’t break.” Jessie took Devon’s face between her hands. “You are what I need. Don’t talk.” Devon watched as Jessie hooked a finger in the elastic on either side of her hips and slowly pushed the panties down her legs. She stood there for a moment, apparently enjoying Devon’s slow appreciative appraisal of the beauty before her. Then she grasped the bottom edge of Devon’s shirt and pulled it over her head. Jessie stepped back and said, “Up.” When Devon stood, Jessie removed her boxers, dragging her hands up the outside of Devon’s bare thighs to rest on her hips. She gave a sultry smile before taking one of Devon’s breasts in her mouth. Jessie took her time, devouring each deliciously. Devon threaded her hands through Jessie’s hair, urging Jessie to suck harder, until her legs threatened to give out.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” Devon said. Those deep green eyes were her only salvation, and she surrendered as if submerging into a peaceful cool lagoon.

Jessie let out a purr and slipped her hand into the waiting wetness between Devon’s legs. “Oh, I feel how much,” Jessie said. She leaned in and nipped Devon’s neck.

Devon groaned as every cell in her body responded. Jessie was the center of her universe and her touch was life itself. She drew Devon to the bed and pulled her down, entwining their bodies together. The swirling storm in Jessie’s eyes drew Devon in and she knew instinctively to let Jessie lead the way. Jessie kissed her until Devon lost all coherent thought.

Jessie lay back on the pillows and Devon shifted up on one elbow to see her face, feeling humbled by her trust. She traced a finger along the contours of Jessie’s neck, continuing down to her breasts, drawing circles around the pink tips. Jessie reached for Devon, wordlessly communicating her desire.

Devon kissed her softly at first, touching her tongue to her favorite spot along Jessie’s soft bottom lip, with the slightest of pressure, reliving the memory of their first kiss. Their tongues danced together while their lips played over the smooth surfaces and teeth caught the edges of passion. The fury of the blood pulsing in her veins, echoing the desire in her depths, made Devon’s vision hazy. She dragged her mouth down Jessie’s neck to her breasts and pleasured each one. The sounds of Jessie’s cries made her forget the world. She kissed her way along Jessie’s ribs, across her stomach, inching closer to the center of Jessie’s desire. Every other woman Devon had known dissolved from her consciousness, and she knew then she would spend the rest of her life discovering new ways to love Jessie.

“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, Jess.”

“I love you.”

Jessie raised her hips, offering herself, and Devon pulled Jessie to her again. She recognized this lovemaking was a melding of souls, a primal and sacred commitment, more powerful than any fear. Devon brushed her lips on the skin just above Jessie’s sex, deeply breathing in Jessie’s scent. She wanted nothing more than to lose herself there forever. She ran her tongue along the outer folds, smiling inwardly, emboldened by the soft cries she heard and Jessie pressing more tightly against her, urging her on. Soon Jessie was writhing beneath her, and Devon felt the first twisting of climax inside.

“Please...” Jessie gasped. “Devon, come with me.”

Nearly crazy with arousal, Devon shifted to lie facing Jessie. Another searing kiss reduced her to nothing but physical need. She moved her hand between Jessie’s legs to stroke. Jessie opened fully, swelling and expanding beneath her touch. Jessie slipped into her, connecting their bodies with a fit nearly too perfect to bear. They rocked together, pushing, pulling, stroking, and driving each other to the peak of ecstasy. She felt Jessie’s climax, awed by the beauty of her face as she came, and she carried Devon with her. The release blasted through Devon like rivers of fire rushing through her veins, burning and cleansing everything but the certainty of Jessie’s love.

Chapter Thirty

THE ARENA WAS filled to capacity, buzzing with excitement for the opening game of the season. Mac led Jillian, Devon, and Jessie to their seats at center court, just behind the visitor’s bench. Orlando had a huge following and the start of the season presented promise and hope for a home opener win against the west coast team. Devon noted the curious and sometimes hostile stares from the fans around them as they settled in, proudly sporting their San Francisco Force jerseys, with the number 66 and Maguire on the back.

The pre-game warm-ups were in full swing. Each team was on the court, dribbling and shooting in preparation for the upcoming competition. Conner sunk a shot from the top of the key and Mac whistled loudly, then stood to applaud her cousin’s effort. Conner looked in their direction with a wide smile. A woman a few rows back shouted, “Lucky shot!” Mac glared over her shoulder at the woman. When the teams returned to the locker rooms, Mac offered to buy a round of beers and Jessie volunteered to accompany her to the concession stand.

“You’re looking well, Jill,” Devon said. “I’m glad to see you and Mac so happy.”

“Thanks. Same goes for you. Jessie is good for you, Dev.”

“Yes, she is.” Devon felt the goofy, “I love Jessie” smile split her face.

“I have something I want to ask you.” Jillian turned in her seat to look at Devon directly.

“Sure.”

“Mac and I have made some plans. I’m moving to Tampa.”

“Jill, that’s great! Jessie will be so glad. She likes you, a lot.”

“The feeling is mutual. Who would have thought we’d become such good friends? She has been wonderful throughout my recovery. Even with her own injury and therapy sessions, she always found time to visit. We really bonded.”

“I know. But having you to talk to about the standoff and her own injury was extremely helpful to Jess. She’s grown very fond of you, Jill.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“How would you feel about me being in Tampa?”

“I think it would be wonderful. I mean, if you had asked me that question last year, I would have thought, ‘oh, shit.’ But, now everything’s different...you know. Plus, I happen to know a certain chopper pilot who is head over heels for you.” She winked.

“Well,” Jillian said brightly, “it’s good that you feel that way, because I still have a question for you.”

“I thought that was the question.” Devon laughed. Jillian remained serious, so she refrained from any additional jokes.

“I’m opening a tactical training school. We’ll start with SWAT techniques and defensive tactics, but eventually, I hope to branch out into other private security stuff. I have a while to go on my rehab, but I figure I can start laying the groundwork on the business end right now. Hopefully, I can get the school up and running and oversee the curriculum. In a few more months, I should be able to do some of the lighter training at least.”

“Wow, that’s great, but, you really shouldn’t push it, Jill—”

“I want you to be my lead instructor,” Jillian finished.

Devon stared at her. “Me? Are you sure?”

Jillian nodded emphatically. “Mac and I discussed this. She told me what she saw you do in Beirut, and I’ve seen your work here. You’re a natural, Devon, and there’s no one in the world I would rather have as my lead instructor. Of course, the decision is yours. You can set your own hours to fit into your regular work schedule. Whatever you want. Talk to Jessie and let me know.”

“Talk to me about what?” Jessie asked. She and Mac passed the oversized plastic cups of beer as they took their seats. She nudged Devon. “Did you tell her?”

“No,” Devon said. “I wanted to talk to Mac first, and then Jill asked me about something else.”

Now it was Mac’s turn to ask, “Talk to me about what?” They all laughed.

“Let’s sort this out,” Devon said. “Jillian is moving to Tampa.”

“In with me,” Mac clarified. Jessie let out a squeal and hugged Jillian.

“And, she’s made me a business offer,” Devon went on. “Jillian is going to open a tactical training center and she asked me to be an instructor.”

“I think that would be wonderful, honey,” Jessie said. “Wow.”

Jillian said, “It’s still in the preliminary planning stages, but I think it will work.”

“What did you want to talk to us about?” Mac asked.

“We wanted you two to be the first to know.” Devon grinned at Jessie. “I asked Jessie to marry me.”

Jillian threw her arms around Jessie’s neck. Mac hugged Devon and they all started talking at once. Rapid fire questions about when, where, and how bounced back and forth. Devon held up her hand. “Ladies, let me finish.” She faced Mac. “I would be honored

if you would be my best woman.”

“The honor is mine.” Mac pulled Devon into a bear hug.

“And,” Jessie added, “Jillian, would you stand up with me?” She exchanged a look with Devon and turned back to Jill. “Devon and I would love to have both of you with us on the most important day of our lives.”

The four friends embraced. Jessie and Jillian immediately began excitedly planning the ceremony, while Mac and Devon discussed logistics of moving Jillian to Tampa the following month.

They were interrupted by the house lights darkening for the team introductions. Spotlights danced on the polished court and bounced off the corners of the arena. The crowd kept up a steady murmur while the visitors were introduced. Finally, the announcer boomed, “Starting at forward, the League’s number one draft pick, and captain of the San Francisco Force, number sixty-six, Conner Maguire!” Mac whistled loudly and they all jumped to their feet, screaming wildly, oblivious to the overall tepid response from the Orlando crowd.

“Go Conner!” Devon shouted.

On the way to the team bench Conner stopped at the sideline to give her special guests high-fives. “Watch the scoreboard after the introductions,” she told Devon. Then she waved and ran to join her team. Each member of Orlando’s starting lineup was introduced with theatrical bravado and a flashing light show, much to the crowd’s delight. Devon had to admit the display was impressive.

The crowd settled again following the introductions. The song “Jump” by Van Halen blasted through the speakers, setting the mood for the night. Devon saw Conner look up toward the jumbotron and followed her gaze. The scoreboard lit up with huge letters: She said yes! Congratulations Jessie and Devon!

“Look at that,” Mac said. Jessie flashed a smile that reduced Devon to a puddle.

“Yeah, look at that.” She stared at Jessie, not the scoreboard. Jessie responded with a kiss stopping just short of publicly inappropriate. Devon hugged her, and when she turned back to the court, Conner was beaming in their direction. She gave a thumbs up and Devon waved in return.

“You make a great couple,” Mac said.

“Thanks,” Devon said. “It took you and me a while, but Mac, I think we both finally found where we belong.”

“I believe you’re right. So, you and Jessie, you’re both okay with all the Honeycutt business?”

“Yeah, Jessie had a few nightmares at first, but she’s fine now.”

“And you?” Mac pressed.

“Truthfully Mac? I have never been better. I’ve finally gotten the closure that I’ve needed all these years. As far as me and Jessie, well, it’s better than good.” She felt herself blushing.

“You could drown in her eyes and be happy to go?” Mac suggested. “Yeah.” “Love is a miracle,” Mac said with a touch of awe in her voice. Devon leaned back and let the happiness wash though her.

“That it is, Mac. That it is.”

THE END

About the Author

Lynette Mae grew up in Pennsylvania, the third of six children. She enlisted in the army at nineteen, and after an honorable discharge, found herself in Florida pursuing her dream of a law enforcement career. Although completely challenging and satisfying, being a cop only fueled Lynette’s true passion: Writing. Her life’s rich experiences provide endless ideas for stories and characters that are born out of the truly fascinating places she’s gone and people she’s met along the way. When she’s not working or writing, you can find LM running, weight training, or any number of physical pursuits. For quieter time, she’ll be curled up with a book, or just enjoying the day with her wife and their dogs.

Another Book by Lynette Mae

Faithful Service, Silent Hearts

Faithful Service, Silent Hearts is the story of Devon James, a bright young military officer, dedicated to serving her country. She soon learns that finding love under any circumstances is difficult, but when your love is forbidden by military regulations and a relentless zealot pursues you, it can seem impossible. Following an investigation that destroyed her first lover's career and their relationship, Devon hopes her new assignment will allow her a fresh start.

She is reunited with an old college friend, and together, they form an impressive intelligence team and red-hot couple. When their assignments take them to the war-torn Middle East in the early days of terrorists targeting Americans, then things really get interesting. She returns home a decorated veteran with numerous physical and emotional scars. Devon soon discovers that the battle for her own integrity and faithful service has only begun.

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