"And they all lived happily ever after," Davies said dryly.

"In hell."

Davies looked down at the paper. "She shot the other two before she left the house."

Steven rubbed the back of his neck. The sight had been a grisly one. "Rudy was in his bed. Didn't look like he suffered. Her husband was on the toilet, of all places." Steven thought of the shots to Victor Lutz's head, heart, and groin, the latter probably for all his unfaithfulness over the years. "I think he did. Suffer, that is."

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy."

"I'd have to agree with you there."

"I can understand the husband, but not the kids," Davies said. "Why'd she do it?"

"Nora left a note. Said she couldn't bear the thought of her son in jail, that he was sick, needed help, et cetera, et cetera. If he couldn't get help it was better to die than to rot in prison for the rest of his life. She couldn't live without Josh and she didn't want Rudy to have to survive without them all. After Rudy's arrest in Seattle she took Josh to a psychiatrist without Victor's knowledge. She suspected then that it was Josh, not Rudy, who'd done the crimes. Apparently she'd caught Josh doing some pretty sick things to the neighbor's dog and knew her kid wasn't right. Anyway, she paid someone to tamper with your evidence, then had the shrinks dope Josh up. To control him. His psychiatrist from Seattle called me yesterday after he heard Josh was dead. Told me his doctor/client no longer applied and he filled in a few more blanks. He said that Josh and Rudy were twins but that Nora pulled Josh out of school for a year after Seattle for treatment. That's why he was a year behind Rudy." One corner of Steven's mouth lifted. "Told me that in his clinical opinion Josh Lutz was one sick bastard, but that Nora might have been worse."

Davies folded the paper. "Guess the apple didn't fall too far from that tree."

Steven pushed away from the wall he'd been leaning against. "Like you said, couldn't have happened to a nicer family." He turned for the door, hesitated, then turned back. "Neil, thanks."

Davies looked away. "I still hate your guts."

Steven's smile was more rueful than anything else. "Just so we're square. Drop by before you head south. I know Jen will want to say good-bye."

He'd made it to the door when he heard, "Thatcher."

Not looking back, he said, "What?"

"You're welcome. Don't fuck up again 'cause I don't plan to be as benevolent next time."

Steven sucked in his cheeks. "You're a real prince, Davies. See you around." He walked to the end of the hospital corridor where he punched the down button on the elevator, a definite spring in his step.

Tonight he had a date with Jenna. Beer and hot wings. And afterward he was planning to get very, very lucky.

Sunday, December 25, 10:30 AM.

"Is it always like this?" Jenna asked, humored exhaustion in her voice. She and Steven sat on the sofa looking out at the sea of wrapping paper covering the living room.

Steven put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him, enjoying the scent of coconuts and the feel of her breast pushed against his side. "Sure. This was actually pretty tame."

At that moment Cindy Lou tore out of the kitchen through the living room sending wrapping paper everywhere. Nicky ran after her, Jim and Jean-Luc at his heels. His boy was happy, laughing. And sleeping through the night in his new bed shaped like a car.

Brad had sent out his college applications and now his only reason to frown was over which school he would choose when he was accepted.

Matt… was Matt. And Steven was awfully glad it was so. No traumas, not yet anyway, except Matt had brought a girl to the Christmas party they'd had the weekend before. Scary.

Jenna snuggled closer against him. "I saw the postcard you got from Helen."

"The one with the naked natives?" Steven asked wryly.

Jenna choked. "No. I saw the one of the safari truck on the Serengeti plain." She looked up at him with a naughty grin. "Where'd you hide the one with the naked natives?"

"For you to find later." He kissed her and she settled into him like warm honey. "How'd you like your presents?"

Her eyes softened. "I thought I was going to cry."

She was thinking about Nicky's gift then, not the one he'd given her. That fact made him love her even more. What kind of woman would get excited over a seven-year-old's handmade storybook populated with kissing llamas, yodeling rhinos, and glue-eating kangaroos?

A mother would, that's who. She leaned forward and plucked the book from the top of her small pile of gifts and opened it once again to the last page where Nicky had scrawled in purple crayon, To Jenna, From Nicky and below in very small letters, I love you. She traced her fingertip over the three little words and sniffled.

Steven pulled her close again and kissed the top of her head where her hair had grown just long enough to be considered very stylish. "If I'd known you were that easy to please I'd have made the plane tickets with crayon myself."

She looked back up at him and her eyes sparkled. "I can't believe it. You're really going to take off two whole weeks to go to Hawaii with me?"

I'd do anything for you, he thought. "Um-hmm. But there's kind of a catch."

Her violet eyes narrowed. "What catch? Kent and Harry are not coming."

He drew a breath, then spit it out. "I want it to be our honeymoon trip." Her eyes widened.

"Your logic appears to be flawed, Special Agent Man," she said lightly. "We can't go on a honeymoon unless we've had a wedding first."

He didn't take his eyes off hers and in two long beats of his heart, all teasing fled and her eyes heated. "Marry me, Jenna. Be my family."

"Yes," she whispered. "It's all I've ever wanted. You're all I've ever wanted. I love you."

He fumbled in his pocket for the simple but elegant diamond ring that had been all but burning his skin all morning, brought it out, slid it on her finger. "I love you, too." But she didn't look at the ring, just kept looking into his eyes. As if she couldn't get enough of him. And he knew that this time, with this woman, he'd done it right.

Karen Rose fell in love with books from the moment she learned to read, with Jo from Little Women and Nancy Drew becoming close childhood friends. She started writing stories of her own when the characters started talking in her head and just wouldn't be silenced. When she's not writing stories for readers, Karen writes stories for computers-programming keeps the other side of her brain out of trouble. She lives in sunny Florida with her fantastic husband, an avid fisherman, and two wonderful daughters who also love to read-and write! Karen would love to receive your e-mail at karen@karenrosebooks.com, and be sure to check out her Web site at www.karenrosebooks.com.