Kelsey's eyes closed for a long moment and when she opened them, they were again cool and detached. "I hear you took a bullet, kid."

The subject of parole was now closed. "Yeah. Two weeks ago."

"How's your pal?"

"Abe? He's in the hospital, but he'll be okay."

"Don't let him make you drop your guard." One side of her mouth lifted. "You're the only one who ever comes to visit me in here. I'd hate for anything to happen to you."

Mia cleared her throat. "Okay."

"Oh, yeah. And tell Dana I said thanks, but no thanks."

"For what?"

"I got a postcard from her vacation to the beach. Big ugly crab on the front. She said she wished I could have been there to help her eat them. They look like bugs."

"I'll tell her. I've got to get back now. I have another few hours of reading to do after I smack a man silly."

Kelsey's brows lifted in lazy interest, but her eyes were sharp. "Police brutality?"

"Nope. This is my temporary partner. He followed me all the way from town and now he's waiting out in the parking lot." She huffed "Thinks I didn't see him tailing me "

Amusement now lit Kelsey's eyes. "Now why would he do a thing like that?"

"Because he…" Mia thought about all the kind things Reed Solliday had done for her over the last two days. Coffee, medicine, opening doors like she was… a lady. It would appear that Reed Solliday was an old-fashioned gentleman and a nice guy. Who'd played football. And liked poetry. And seemed to feel the pain of the victims as keenly as she did. She sighed. "He was worried about me. Apparently somebody wrecked his wife's car when they were too tired to drive."

"So he's married?" Kelsey shook her head reproachfully. "M."

"He's a widower with a kid. And don't get that look in your eyes," she added, when Kelsey did just that. "He's temporary, just until Abe gets back."

"What does he look like?"

The man was big. And built. "A little like Satan." She ran her thumb and forefinger around her mouth. "He's got this goatee thing going on." That framed a very nice mouth.

"Interesting." One brow went up. "So is this Satan a fallen angel or a gargoyle?"

Mia shifted in her chair uneasily. "He's… easy enough on the eyes."

Kelsey nodded, her mouth bent in speculation. "And?"

And he's decent. And I like him. She drew a breath. Hell. "That's all."

Kelsey stood up. "Okay, if that's how you're going to play it, I'll wait for Dana's next letter. She'll give me the straight scoop." And without saying good-bye, Kelsey hung up the phone and walked away. She never said good-bye, she always just walked away.

For a minute Mia just sat there, her heart aching. Then she carefully hung up the phone and went to give Solliday his just desserts.

Tuesday, November 28, 8:30 P.M.

It took her long enough, he thought sourly, as Tania exited the hotel lobby carrying the flowers. The inside of the car he'd taken was nice and warm and he'd nearly fallen asleep waiting for her. All the doors were on the outside of this motel, so he knew she'd need to pass this way sooner or later.

Slowly he drove through the parking lot, keeping her in his sight all the time. Finally she stopped and knocked. The door opened, not wide enough for him to see inside. But that was okay. He lifted his binoculars and focused. Room 129. Go, me.

He yawned again. He was so tired. He wanted old lady Dougherty, but he didn't want to be so tired he didn't enjoy it, or worse, that he made a mistake. It was a foolish man who took chances when he was fatigued. Besides, he needed a key card and Tania didn't get off till seven tomorrow morning. He could take it now, but somebody would notice when she didn't come back to the desk. Because after he took her key card little Tania and her smart mouth wouldn't be going anywhere.

He had time. It wasn't like the Doughertys had a place to go. So he'd go home, get some sleep and be back tomorrow morning to make sure Miss Tania got home safely.

Tuesday, November 28, 8:45 p.m.

Reed was dreaming. He knew inside the dream that he was dreaming, but that made it a little more okay. Because he knew even as he dreamed that it would not come true. He would not pull Mia Mitchell into his bed. He would not tear the clothes from her body. He would not kiss every inch of her creamy skin. And he certainly would not come inside her with enough force to make her blue eyes glaze over.

So because none of those things would ever happen, he knew he'd better enjoy the dream as long as it lasted. And he was enjoying it. As was she. Her tight body was arched up, her internal muscles gripping him as he moved. "God, Reed," she was moaning, not the delicate little whispers of Christine, but loud, loud enough to penetrate his own pleasured stupor. "Reed."

Reed woke with a start, his eyes flying to his car window where Mitchell stood pounding her fists on the glass. She rolled her eyes when she saw him jolt to awareness. "Dammit, Solliday, I thought you were passed out from carbon monoxide."

He rolled the window down, still reeling from the dream that had been way too real for his comfort. He nearly reached for her, knowing now how her face would feel between his palms. But he didn't really know. Nor would he. "I guess I fell asleep."

She looked mad. Why was she mad? "What the hell are you doing here?"

Here? He looked around, saw the fence, the security post. Prison. Oh, yeah. The drive out from the city came back with clarity. So much for a surreptitious tail. Damn. He'd been made. "Um…" His mind was utterly blank. His body utterly hard.

Her eyes still snapping, she stared at him. "Did you really think I didn't see you?"

Some of the blood was returning to his brain, making things more comfortable on both counts. "Maybe. Okay, yeah, I didn't think you saw me. I blew it, didn't I?"

Her frown softened. "Yeah, but your intentions were good. You have a nice nap?"

He felt his cheeks burn, as if his dream were a scarlet letter branded on his forehead. "Yeah. I did." He looked up at the prison building, its lights glaringly bright against the night sky, then back at her. "If I ask what brought you here, will you tell me it's none of my business?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You are the nosiest of men."

"Sorry."

"You also seem to be nice and relatively harmless."

His dream flashed back, vivid and clear and in full Technicolor. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt either of them. "Most of the time, yes."

"And you did bring me coffee twice today and a hot dog yesterday."

That sounded promising. "And I let you pick where we ate lunch, both days."

Her lips curved. "Yes, you did." The small smile faded. "I was visiting my sister."

It was not what he'd expected. "What?"

"You heard me. My younger sister's in for armed robbery. Shocked?"

"Yeah. I have to say I am. How long has she been in?"

"Twelve years. I come during visiting hours like everybody else. I don't want anybody inside to know her sister's a cop."

Stunned, he had no idea what to say. One side of her mouth lifted, likely in sympathy for his inability to speak. "Like you said yesterday, sometimes it's worse with cops' kids. My sister is paying for some really bad decisions. If she doesn't make parole, she'll go on paying another thirteen years."

"So you really do understand how Margaret Hill felt about her mother."

She just stood there, watching him. Saying nothing.

"Well." He scratched his face where new stubble was starting to itch. "What now?"

"Now I go back and read files."

There were dark shadows under her eyes. "Or we could grab some dinner."