My cell was still on, still connected to Morelli. 'We're chasing these guys,' I yelled down at the phone, giving Morelli cross streets, telling him Gazarra was in front of me.

'We?' Morelli yelled back. 'There's no we. This is a police chase. Go home.'

Sally had himself braced in the back seat, his rhinestone earrings reflecting in my rear-view mirror. 'He could be right, you know. Maybe we should split.'

'Don't listen to him,' Grandma said, her blue-veined, bony hands gripping the shoulder strap. 'Keep the pedal to the metal! You could be a little careful on the turns, though.' she added. 'I'm an old lady. My neck could snap like a twig if you whip around a corner too fast.'

Not much chance of taking a corner that fast in the Buick. Motoring the Buick around was like steering a cruise ship.

Without warning, the SUV went into a turn in the middle of the road and skidded to a stop. Eddie laid some rubber and pulled up a couple car lengths from the SUV. I two-footed the brake pedal and stopped about a foot from Eddie's back bumper.

The rear side window slid down on the SUV, and there was a flash of rapid gunfire from inside the car. Grandma and Sally hit the floor, but I was too stunned to move. The blue-and-white's windshield crumbled, and I saw Eddie jerk to the side and slump.

'I think Eddie's shot!' I yelled at my phone.

'Fuck,' Sally said from the back seat. Snap.

The SUV took off, wheels spinning, and was out of sight within seconds. I shoved my door open and ran to check on Gazarra. He was hit twice. A bullet had grazed the side of his head. And he had a shoulder wound.

'Shit,' I said to Gazarra. 'Don't die.'

Gazarra looked at me through narrowed eyes. 'Do I look like I'm going to die?'

'No. But I'm not an expert.'

'Gripes, what happened? It was like World War III broke out.'

'Seemed like the gentlemen in the SUV didn't want to chat with you.'

I was being glib, hoping it would keep me from bursting into tears. I'd stripped my T-shirt off and had it pressed to Gazarras shoulder wound. Thank goodness I was wearing a sports bra, because I'd feel conspicuous if I was wearing my lacy Victoria's Secret Wonderbra when the cops got here. There was undoubtedly a first aid kit in the squad car, but I wasn't thinking that clearly. The

T-shirt seemed easier and faster. I was pressing hard enough that my hands weren't visibly shaking, but my heart was racing and my breathing was ragged. Grandma and Sally were standing huddled together in silence by the Buick.

'Is there anything we can do?' Grandma asked.

'Talk to Joe. He's on the cell phone. Tell him Gazarra needs help.'

Sirens were screaming in the distance, and I could see the flash of police strobes a block away.

'Shirley's gonna be pissed,' Gazarra said. 'She hates when I get shot.' To my recollection, the only other time Gazarra was shot was when he was playing quick draw in the police station elevator, and his gun accidentally discharged. The bullet ricocheted off the elevator wall and lodged in Gazarra's right buttock.

The first cop car angled in. It was followed by a second blue-and-white and Morelli in his SUV. I took a step back to allow the men access to Eddie.

Morelli looked first to me and then glanced over at Gazarra. 'Are you okay?' he asked.

I was covered with blood, but it wasn't mine. 'I didn't get hit. Eddie's been shot twice, but I think he's going to be all right.'

I guess there are places in this country where cops are always perfectly pressed. Trenton wasn't one of those places. Trenton cops worked hard and worried a lot. Every cop on the scene had a sweat-soaked shirt and grim set to his mouth, including Morelli.

'They opened fire with an automatic weapon from the back seat,' I told Morelli. 'We were coming out of the McDonalds drive-thru on State, and I saw the devil guy cross the lot and get into the Lincoln. The devil guy got into the front passenger seat, so he wasn't the shooter. He had four drinks with him, so there were probably three other guys in the car. I followed him out of the lot and called you. You know the rest.'

Morelli slid an arm around me and pulled me close, resting his cheek on mine. 'I don't want to get mushy here in front of the guys, but there was a moment back there when I heard shots fired over the phone… and I didn't care a lot about the triplets.'

'Nice to know,' I said, slumping against him, happy to have someone holding me up. 'It happened so fast. No one got out of a car. Eddie was still buckled into his seat belt. They shot him through the windshield.'

'The Lincoln was stolen. They probably thought Gazarra was going to bust them.'

'No, it was me,' I said. 'This is all my fault. The Red Devil knew I recognized him.'

An EMT truck arrived and parked next to Gazarra. Cops were directing traffic, securing the area, shouting over the static and chatter of the dispatch radio.

'It's uncanny the way you stumble into this stuff,' Morelli said.

'It's creepy.'

Grandma was standing behind us. 'Two disasters in one day,' she said. 'I bet its a personal record.'

'Not even close.' Morelli said. His eyes settled on my sports bra, 'I like the new look.'

'I used my T-shirt as a compress.'

Morelli removed his shirt and draped it around my shoulders.

'You feel cold.'

That's because my heart stopped pumping blood about ten minutes ago.' My skin was pale and clammy, and my forearms were goose-bumpy. 'I need to get back to my parents' house and have some dessert.'

'I could use some dessert, too,' Grandma said. 'Probably they don't have the lid up on Lorraine, anyway.' She turned to Sally. 'I know I promised you a good time at the funeral parlor, but it didn't work out. How about some dessert instead? We got chocolate cake and ice cream. And then we can send you home in a cab. My son-in-law drives a cab sometimes, so we get a break on the rates.'

'I guess I could eat some cake,' Sally said. 'I probably burned off a couple hundred calories just now from fright.'

Morelli buttoned me into his shirt. 'Are you going to be okay to drive?'

'Yeah. I don't even feel like throwing up anymore.'

'I need to check on a few things here, and then I'll follow you over.'

My mother was on the front porch when we arrived. She was rigid with her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed tight together.

'She knows,' Grandma said. 'I bet the phone's been ringing off the hook.'

'How could she know?' Sally asked. 'We were way across town, and it's been less than an hour, start to finish.'

'The first call always comes from Traci Wenke and Myron Flatt on account of they listen to the police band on their radios,' Grandma said. 'And then Elsa Downing probably called. She finds out early because her daughter works as a dispatcher. And I bet Shirley called to see if she could drop the kids off so she could go to the hospital.'

I parked the Buick, and by the time I got to ray mother her face was white, and I expected steam to begin curling out of her ears at any moment. 'Don't start,' I said. 'I'm not talking about it until I've had some cake.'

My mother wheeled around without a word, marched to the kitchen, and sliced me a wedge of cake. I followed after her. 'Ice cream,' I said.

She scooped half a tub of ice cream onto my plate. She stepped back and looked at me. 'Blood,' she said.

'Not mine.'

She made the sign of the cross.

'And I'm pretty sure Eddie's going to be okay.'

Another cross.

There'd been places left at the table for Grandma and me. I took my place and shoveled in cake. Grandma brought an extra chair from the kitchen for Sally and bustled around filling plates. The rest of the family was silent at the dining-room table. Only my father was active, head down, forking up chicken and mashed potatoes. Everyone else was frozen in their seats, mouths open, eyes wide, not sure what to make of me with the blood on my shirt… and Sally in his earrings.