“I need to be in by eight,” she said. “I have to go home and get clothes first.”

“No, Paige packed you a bag. Just rest.” He pointed the remote at the TV, and the screen came to life. It was her Road Runner DVD. Surprised, her eyes shot up to his and he kissed her forehead. “I found it in your DVD player. That night we talked, you told me you watched cartoons to destress. I figured we could both use that tonight.”

She nodded once, but a sob barreled up and she had nothing left to force it back down. He pulled her closer, his cheek on top of her head, rocking her where they sat as the deluge poured out. Sobs and curses and vows of horrible revenge. Finally the storm ebbed and she was left shaken. Too hollowed out to feel anything but despair.

He threaded his hand through her hair, cradling her. “Sleep now, baby.”

“In the morning Kane will still be dead,” she whispered.

“Yes, but your mind needs to be sharp to find the man who did it.”

“I want him dead. I want him to bleed and suffer. I want to watch while he does.”

“So do I.”

There was something in his voice. Grim certainty, but also pain. She pulled back far enough to see his face. He stared straight ahead, his jaw set. “What happened?”

“Go to sleep.” He tried to urge her back against him, but she pulled free.

“What happened?” she repeated more forcefully. “Tell me.”

“The fire tonight was set.”

Her mind clicked through the events of the night. “Woodview. Noah said it was where Tomlinson’s mistress lived. Was that the target? Did you find a glass ball?”

“No glass ball, but the mistress’s house was the target. Except the wind shifted, taking houses on both sides. A gas-tank explosion leveled two more houses. Then the fire spread to an apartment building.”

“How many?” she asked quietly.

“Four dead.” Anguish flashed in his eyes. “Including a child. She was only two.”

She pressed her lips to his jaw. “I’m sorry.”

“Dozens more were hurt,” he said, his voice too even.

“Firefighters?”

“Zell,” he said roughly. “A beam fell on him. He can’t feel his legs.”

She flinched, seeing it all too clearly. “Who got him out?” she asked, although she knew the answer and it scared her senseless.

“I did.” He closed his eyes. “I dragged him out. What if I made it worse?”

“And if you hadn’t dragged him out, he’d be dead.”

Now that she’d shed a layer of grief, she could really look at him. He was exhausted and heart sore… just like me. “Let’s go to bed. You need to rest, too.”

Wearily he followed her, taking her suitcase. “Paige packed your Tweety PJs.”

On autopilot, she put them on in the bathroom, then found him in bed, their cell phones side by side on the nightstand. Drawing her close, his fingers pulled the band from her braid and started working her hair free. “I like it loose,” he murmured, then slid his hand up under the nightshirt, cupping her breast as he’d done before.

Her heart still hurt and her chest was still tight. “I needed you,” she whispered, finding it easier to say so in the darkness. “Just to be with me.”

“That I can do.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “I have a question.”

“What?”

“Do you really wear these PJs or was Paige just causing trouble?”

Her lips tipped up sadly, so glad he was there. “The second one. Unless it’s below zero, I usually sleep in my skin.” He, obviously, did as well.

His fingers were already freeing buttons. “I like feeling your skin against mine.” In less than a minute he had her naked and cocooned in his arms. “Now I can sleep.”

Wednesday, September 22, 4:30 a.m.

David couldn’t sleep. He lay there holding her, pictures flashing behind his clenched eyes. Zell pinned, Kane dead. It could have been her. In the cacophony of his thoughts, it was the one that screamed louder than all the rest.

She wasn’t asleep either. She lay stiff in his arms, her breathing shallow. She shuddered out a breath and he touched his lips to her cheek, wet with tears. “Hey.”

“I keep seeing him there,” she whispered, her voice choked. “In the grass. I can’t believe this happened.”

He turned her in his arms and her fists clenched against his chest before her hands splayed flat, her fingers digging into his skin as another barrage of sobs tore through her. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Cry if you need to. I won’t leave you.” He stroked her hair until her sobs quieted and her breath hitched.

She rubbed her palm over his chest, swiping at the tears. “I got you all wet.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I need to think.”

“No, honey. You need to grieve, and that’s a long road. Kane was a good man, a good cop. He was your partner. You spent more time together than most people do with their spouse. He had your back and you trusted him. You loved him.”

“Yes.” It was a hoarse whisper. “I didn’t cry like this when my mother died.”

He heard the guilt in her voice. “You’re not a bad daughter because you didn’t.”

She lifted her head, peered at him in the darkness. “What?”

“You’re feeling guilty because you’re grieving Kane more intensely than your mother, right?”

She nodded, tears falling again. “She was my mother. I mean I cried, but this is different. I feel like my heart’s being ripped out of me. What kind of daughter does that make me, if not a bad one?”

“That night in Chicago, you told me you missed her, that you loved her.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you did. But I get the impression that things between you were never easy.”

She lowered her head to his shoulder with a sigh. “No, they weren’t. She loved me, I know she did. But I never seemed to make her happy. I could never do anything right. And sometimes she’d look at me like she hated me. I never understood why until I saw Mia for the first time.”

“At your father’s funeral.”

“I rushed to Chicago as soon as I heard he’d died and got there just in time for the burial. Mia was wearing her dress blues, standing next to the coffin with her mother. The cops folded the flag and gave it to the wife, then she turned and almost shoved the flag into Mia’s arms. I remember standing there, hating them both so much. Then Mia looked up and I couldn’t breathe. It was like looking in a mirror.”

“She was pretty shaken, too.”

“I know. It was at that moment I realized we must both look like our father.”

“You didn’t know what he looked like?”

“I never even knew his name. My mother never talked about him. When I was little, I’d imagine what he was like. I’d wonder if he was walking around somewhere with amnesia or something. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t want me.”

David had to swallow hard, picturing her as a child. “My parents loved each other and they loved us. I’ll always be grateful for that. I’m sorry you didn’t have that.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re grateful. I used to get so mad at kids who hated their fathers for something stupid, like not getting a car or clothes. I just wanted to have a dad. When I got older, I badgered my mother to tell me about him. Finally accused her of not telling him I existed. That’s when she lost her temper and told me that he was a cop in Chicago. He was married. He’d lied to her, said his wife had left him. That he’d promised to marry her when I was born. Then when I was, he decided to stay with his other family. His wife and kids. I didn’t know his name or theirs, but I hated them all.”

“How did you find out he’d died?”

“From my mother’s sister. I tried so many times to get my mother to tell me his name, but she wouldn’t. It was a big area of contention between us. Finally, she died without telling me. I thought I’d never know. But then I got a call from my aunt, who saw his obituary. My mother had confided in her, years ago. Made her promise not to tell me, but my aunt knew I needed the closure.” Her voice hardened. “Then I met Mia and found out I was better off with no father than the father she’d lived with. I was glad he didn’t want me then.”