Mace was silent for a long minute as the car rolled along winding roads on the way to the interstate that would eventually carry them into Virginia and then on to D.C. “In all your free time while you were running the tenth largest police force in the country and presiding over the security details for a presidential inauguration. Nobody could’ve done better. I know that. And if it had been me overseeing your finances, you’d probably be in a debtor’s prison in China.” Mace touched her sister’s arm. “Thanks, Beth.”

“I did manage to keep one thing for you.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

THE SUN was starting to come up when the Town Car turned down a quiet residential street that dead-ended in a cul-de-sac. A few seconds later they rolled to a stop in the driveway of a comfortable-looking two-story frame house with a wide front porch that sat at the very end of the road. The only giveaway that this was where the highest-ranking cop in D.C. lived was the security stationed outside and the portable barricades that had been moved out of the way when they’d turned onto the street.

“What the hell is this for, Beth?” Mace asked. “You never had a security detail at your house before. You usually don’t even have a driver.”

“Different world and the mayor insisted.”

“Has there been a threat?”

“I get threats every day. Stalkers at HQ, here at home.”

“I know, so what’s changed?”

“Not for you to worry about.”

The car slowed and Beth Perry rolled down her window and exchanged a few words with the officers on duty, and then she and Mace headed into the house. Mace dropped the duffel bag containing everything she’d brought to prison with her and looked around. “You’re not going to tell me the truth about all the new security?”

“There’s nothing to tell. I don’t particularly like it, but like I said, the mayor insisted.”

“But why did he-”

“Drop it, Mace!”

The sisters did a staredown and Mace finally backed off.

“So where’s Blind Man?”

As if on cue, an old fifty-pound mutt with gray, black, and tan markings came into the room. As it sniffed the air, it gave a yelp and bounded toward Mace. She knelt and scratched Blind Man behind the ears and then gave the dog a lingering hug, pushing her nose into its smooth fur as Blind Man happily licked her ear.

“I think I missed this guy almost as much as I missed you.”

“He’s been pining for you.”

“Hey, Blind Man, you missed me, man, you missed me?”

“I still can’t believe they were going to put him down just because he can’t see. That dog’s nose is so keen it’s better than having two pairs of twenty-twenties.”

Mace rose but continued to stroke Blind Man’s head. “You always have been one to bring in strays with special cases. The deaf cat, and three-legged Bill the boxer.”

“Everybody and everything deserves a chance.”

“Including little sisters?”

“You’ve lost weight, but otherwise you look to be in great shape.”

“Worked out every day. Only thing that kept me going.”

Beth looked at her strangely. It took Mace a few moments to interpret. “I’m clean, Beth. I was clean when I went in and I didn’t touch anything while I was in there, although let me tell you there were more drugs in that place than at Pfizer’s world headquarters. I exchanged meth for endorphins. I’ll take a pee test if you want.”

“I don’t, but your probation officer will as a post-release condition.”

Mace took a deep breath. She’d forgotten that she was now officially on probation for a full year because of some complicating factors in her sentencing. If she screwed up they could send her right back for a lot longer than twenty-four months.

“I know the guy. He’s okay. Plays fair. Your first meeting is next week.”

“I thought it would be sooner than that.”

“It usually is, but I told him you’d be staying with me.”

Mace stared fixedly at her sister. “Any news on who set me up?’

“Let’s talk about it later. But I’ve got some ideas.”

There was something in her voice that made Mace decide not to argue. “I’m starving, but can I grab a shower first? Two minutes a day of cold drizzle over two years gets to you.”

“Towels, soap, and shampoo are all set upstairs. I’ve got the rest of your clothes in the guest bedroom.”

Thirty minutes later the two sisters sat down in the large, airy kitchen to scrambled eggs, coffee, bacon, and toast that Beth had prepared. The chief had changed into jeans and a sweatshirt with “ FBI Academy ” stenciled on the front. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was barefoot. Mace had on a white long-sleeved shirt and a pair of corduroy pants she’d last worn over two years ago. Snug before, they now rode low on her narrow hips.

“You’re going to need new things,” said her sister. “What are you now, about one-fifteen?

“A little less.” She ran a thumb inside the waist of the saggy pants. “I didn’t know I was such a porker before.”

“Yeah, a real porker. You could sprint circles around most of the force even back then. No donut runs for Mace Perry.”

As sunlight spilled through the windows, Beth watched as Mace took her time with each bite and drank the coffee in careful sips. Mace caught her sister eyeing her and put her fork and cup down.

“Pathetic, I know,” Mace said.

Beth leaned across and wrapped long fingers around her sister’s forearm. “I can’t tell you how good it is to have you back safe. What a relief it is-”

Beth’s voice faltered and Mace saw the tall woman’s eyes suddenly tear up; the same eyes that had stared down the worst the city had to offer. Like Mace, she’d started as a beat cop in the toughest neighborhoods of D.C. that no tourist would ever have ventured into unless he was tired of living.

The chief hurried over to the counter and poured another cup of coffee, gazing out the window into the small backyard while she regained her composure. Mace returned to her meal. In between bites she asked, “So what was it you kept for me?”

Relieved by this change in subject, Beth said, “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

She opened the door to the garage and nudged the light on with her elbow. It was a two-bay arrangement. In one parking slot sat Beth’s black Jeep Cherokee. The vehicle sitting in the other space caused a grin to spill over Mace’s face.

A Ducati Sport 1000 S motorcycle painted cherry red. It was the only thing Mace had ever splurged on. And still she’d gotten it dirt cheap and secondhand from a portly cop who’d bought it after going through a midlife crisis only to realize he was terrified to ride the damn thing.

She stepped down to the garage floor, ran her hand along the upside-down high-performance Marzocchi front forks forged from glorious brushed aluminum. Then her fingers slipped over the Sachs shocks that had softened journeys over some rough terrain when she’d used her private ride to chase down some bad guys off-road. The bike had a removable tailpiece cover to give it a sporty, aerodynamic look, but if you popped it off, it revealed a seat and became a two-person ride. However, Mace liked to ride solo. It had a six-speed gearbox, Marelli electronic fuel injection, L-twin cylinders, and its engine generated nearly a hundred horses at eight thousand rpms. She’d kept the bike far longer than any man she ever had, because she loved this machine far more than any guy she’d ever dated.

“How’d my creditors miss this?”

“I assigned it over to myself, so there was nothing to miss. I did it in lieu of payment for administering your affairs.” She held out the key. “Your license still valid?”

“Even if it wasn’t, you couldn’t keep me off it.”

“Nice thing to tell the chief of police sworn to uphold and protect.”

“Just uphold that thought, I’ll be back.”