"I don't know," I said. "I was too busy screwing with them to get any kind of realistic gauge. Worst case, I'll probably get a reprimand for not following proper procedure with the ESU. I can't see the commissioner coming down too hard on us, considering how expedient we were in clearing this mess up for him."

"That's true," Mike said. "I forgot about that."

The waitress delivered our cheeseburgers, the buns soaked with grease.

"Bacon, too?" I said, smiling at my plate. "Mike, you shouldn't have."

"Hey, for you, partner," Mike said, lifting his bottle, "I go that extra mile."

"I want to thank you, Mike," I said after a few chomps of burger heaven. I don't know if it was my pregnancy or what, but I was suddenly famished. I hadn't tasted food this intensely since I'd quit smoking eight months ago.

"I don't remember if I did or not," I said as I popped an escaping morsel of bacon into my mouth. "Thanks for saving me out there."

"Please," Mike said, tipping his bottle in my direction. "I watch your back, you watch mine. As far as I'm concerned, the police department consists of me and you. We're like that commercial for Vegas. What happens here stays here. Which reminds me."

Mike put down his beer and lifted up some papers from the seat beside him.

Even in the dim bar light, I could see they were print-outs. The burger I was chewing seemed to transform itself instantly into ketchup-flavored matchsticks as I spotted the rows and columns of numbers.

"I found this in the fax machine yesterday," Mike said. "Phone company sent over a second copy of Scott's Local Usage Details for some reason. How do you like that? It looks just like the one that you put on my desk, except this copy has your phone number all over it."

Across the scarred table, Mike drank in his beer, and my complete astonishment.

"It's time to talk to me, partner," he said. "It's time to unburden your soul to Father Mike."

"LAUREN, C'MON," Mike whispered to me as I sat there numb and speechless. "You didn't think you could get one over on me, did you? I mean, you're good, better than good, at what we do, but we're talking about me here."

I held my Diet Coke up to my suddenly hot forehead. My God, what was I going to do now? I was busted. Busted lying to my partner. How could I have done that to him? Mike had a heart bigger than most continents. And he was my partner, my lifeline, my guardian angel on the street.

I looked down at the surface of the table, then at the dark-paneled walls of the bar, anywhere but my partner's face.

He was right, though. I had to confess. If there was anyone who I could – and should – spill my guts to, it was him. I had lied by omission and every other way, and he had killed a man because of it. Full disclosure was the least I could do for Mike.

But wait a second, I thought. No! I couldn't. If Mike got jammed up with IAB, he'd roll on me. He'd have to. He couldn't lose his job. He was divorced, but he had two kids in college. He would have to tell what he knew, and the rest of the truth would come out, too. We'd be back to square one. Paul going to prison and Brooke without any means of support. No, I thought. It would actually be even worse now. I'd probably be going to jail along with Paul!

The last thing I wanted to do to my partner was be cruel – but I didn't see any alternative as I tried to think things through.

Finally, I pulled my eyes down from the gin mill's tin ceiling and smacked them into Mike's head-on.

"Leave it alone, partner," I said.

Mike made a face like I'd just shot him with a Taser. I thought the trembling, green bottle in his big hand was going to explode. For a few moments, his mouth worked silently, like a clubbed fish's.

"L-L-Leave it alone?" he stammered finally. "You were sleeping with him, weren't you, Lauren? You were cheating with Scott Thayer, was that it? Why didn't you just tell me? I'm your partner, your friend."

"Mike," I begged him with tears forming in my eyes, "please leave it alone."

"I killed a man, Lauren!" Mike's whisper screamed at me. "There's blood on my hands."

I stood, lifted my bag.

I didn't want to threaten my partner, but I was backed into a corner. There was no other way.

"Yes, there is, Mike," I said, dropping a twenty on my uneaten fries. "You did kill a man. I was the only witness, remember? That's why you of all people have to leave it alone."

ON MY WAY HOME, I called Keane and told him I felt dizzy and that I was taking a sick day. As I hung up, I realized it was one of the first times in a while I'd actually told him the truth.

I felt like I was stepping into a crypt when I opened the front door of my empty house. I decided to go for a jog and suited up. I drove to Tibbetts Brook Park five minutes away and did my usual two laps around the lake with its art-deco pool house. Jeez, it was a beautiful afternoon. Bright, yet cool. Perfect for a run. I even spotted a crane standing among the shoreline cattails as I was doing my stretches.

But by the time I sat down afterward, sweating, behind the wheel of my Mini in the parking lot, I felt like crap all over again.

Back home, I checked my empty answering machine, then poured myself a glass of wine to calm my shot nerves. Then I remembered the baby on board. The glass slipped from my shaking hand as I was pouring it back into the bottle and shattered into a thousand pieces.

Nice move, Detective, I thought as I gripped the cold edge of the sink. I was really on top of things lately, wasn't I? Really holding things together nicely.

Looking down at the glass slivers, I wondered exactly how I could have been so horrible to my partner. Flat-out threatening Mike? Who was that cold-hearted bitch at the Piper's Kilt? It sure wasn't me.

And how could I keep on doing this? I'd gone from omitting the truth, to outright lying, to threatening my friends. I didn't even want to think about what could happen next.

To top it all off, I was completely alone in all this. It was insane. I couldn't even share with Paul the stress of trying to save Paul.

This was it, I realized. Everyone has a breaking point, and I'd just arrived at mine. I couldn't keep up the 24/7 deception anymore. Lincoln was right: you couldn't fool all of the people all of the time. Not if you were Catholic, anyway.

I needed to rejoin the human race. I'd been a secret agent in my own life for long enough. This spy had to come in from the cold.

Step one was confessing my sins and unburdening myself. But not to my partner.

I had to tell Paul.

Admitting I had cheated would be excruciating, but in order to have a shot at getting ourselves and our marriage to the other side of this, Paul and I needed to be on the same page. I had to tell him that I knew what he did at the St. Regis, and that I forgave him for it. And that I needed his help to make sure our dangerous secret stayed a secret.