"Stacey! Come on in! It's great to see you! Have a seat. Can I get you coffee or anything?"

Quinn declined politely and sat down, crossing his legs comfortably in one of the leather club chairs.

"Nice digs you got here, Timmy." Quinn scanned the plush office with its dark paneled walls, flag stands, rich burgundy carpet, and massive, gleaming desk. "Looks like you've risen to the top."

Like scum in the Cal-Sag drainage canal, he thought.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you just paid me a compliment, Stacey."

Quinn smiled and said nothing for a moment. "Well then,we've already pulled your prints, so I'm just here to chat about Miss Adams for a bit."

Tim blinked at Quinn and sat down in one of thechairs clustered in a casual sitting area.

"Let's chat then." Tim leaned back and produced one of his all-purpose smiles. "How's life in District Eighteen? You like the remodeled station house?"

"Absolutely. State-of-the-art and all that. Commander Connelly can't stop singing the mayor's praises."

"Good to hear," Tim said contentedly. "And the Quinn family?"

"Excellent. The Burkes?"

"Fine. Fine. Pop's doing great after his prostate surgery."

"Good."

"Did you hear Mrs. Geleski died?"

"Yeah, I went to her funeral. Apparently she had sixteen cats in the house."

"Must've smelled to high heaven."

Quinn smiled slightly. "So, Timmy. Know anything about these nasty letters Miss Adams has been receiving?"

"Yeah, you said something about threats. Is she still getting them?"

"Yep, she is. Anything you wanna get off your chest?"

Tim tossed his head back and howled with laughter. "Christ, Stacey, please. I just love you." He sighed contentedly. "You are the most humorless bastard I've ever known in my life. Honestly. So you think I'm sending these notes to Autumn? What on earth makes you think that?"

"Are you?"

"No, Detective. I am not. And she certainly knows that."

Quinn nodded. Timmy Burke seemed human enough on the outside-blond and blue-eyed and well dressed and well spoken. Quinn could see how Audie might have been momentarily hoodwinked. He couldn't hold it against her. After all, much of the city had been conned by Timmy's act, apparently.

"So tell me how long you dated Miss Adams. How you met, what your relationship was like. Why you broke up."

Tim chuckled. "Don't you want to know if she'd go down on me in the car? As I recall, that was our standard of excellence at one time. You want to start there?"

Quinn reached in his jacket pocket for his notebook. It gave him something to do with his hands for a moment, enough time to remember it would be a felony to put a bullet in the vice mayor's brain and to remind himself yet again that this wasn't about Laura.

This was about Autumn Adams-who needed him to keep her safe and make an arrest. The fact that Quinn really liked Audie could not-and would not-interfere with the way he handled her case.

"Because she did, Stacey," Tim said with a sigh. "And Jesus, let me tell you, it was pure heaven! That girl knows exactly what those gorgeous lips of hers are for."

Quinn said nothing, but his insides were tensing, his blood was roaring, and his jaw went hard. He blocked the image from his mind-it was too horrible. Not Audie. Not with Tim Burke. Oh, God, why did it make him this crazy?

Maybe he could just shoot now and plead insanity later.

"I hope you weren't driving at the time, Timmy. That's a bit of a safety hazard," he managed.

Tim nodded, grinning. "So you want to know about Audie, do you? Am I really a suspect? Because the idea of being a suspect in one of your cases leaves me kind of skittish, as you might understand."

Quinn grunted. "Of course you're a suspect, Timmy, along with every man Audie has dated in the last few years. The letters are real nasty and personal. So what happened with the two of you?"

"Didn't Audie tell you?"

Quinn shrugged. "She told me you walked away after a couple months. Not much more than that."

"Oh, really?" Tim's eyes went wide in surprise. "How interesting."

He got up from his chair and made a lap around the perimeter of his office, his feet silent on the thick carpeting, his hands in his pockets. He was smiling.

"She really said that?" Tim came to a stop near Quinn and cocked his head. "That's what she told you?"

"Yep."

"Well, I'll be damned." Tim sat back down across from Quinn and leaned forward on his knees. "She dumped me, boy-o. That's how it ended. But she's slowly coming around. I'm trying to be patient, and we still talk."

Tim ran a hand through his pale curls. "The truth is I adore the woman, shortcomings and all. She stole my heart, Stacey, and she's driving me crazy. There. You can't say I never bared my soul to you."

Quinn glared at him and their eyes locked. There was a long moment of silence between them, and they both felt it-the electric crackle of old hate, resentment, and jealousy.

"Oh, holy shit." Tim was up out of the chair and began to pace along the broad bank of windows behind his desk. He turned his back on Quinn and looked out over the concrete-and-steel canyons of the Loop. When he turned around again, he was laughing bitterly.

"This is fucking hilarious. What are we, stuck in some kind of Greek tragedy or something? Are we cursed or something, Stacey? Answer me that."

Quinn said nothing.

"Please don't tell me you've got a thing for Autumn Adams, OK? I just don't think I'm in a good-enough mood to deal with that today-with the Lithuanians and all."

Quinn was scribbling in his notebook, trying to breathe normally. "So she dumped you. You're pissed off. So you slashed her tires and sent her dead roses and a whole slew of letters and in your mind this all accomplishes what?"

"I'm not slashing tires or sending goddamned letters!" Tim's face was red. "I cannot possibly be considered a suspect. Give me a fuckin' break!"

"A jilted lover is always a suspect in a stalking case, Mister Vice Mayor."

"I told you we were working it out, that she's coming around!"

"And what makes you say that?"

Tim propped himself against his desk and crossed his arms over his chest, glowering. "Look. There was nothing ugly about the way we broke up, all right? She just has a little problem with commitment. She's the jumpy type. But we're working on it. I'm taking it slow. And I would never threaten to hurt that woman. Goddamn, Stacey-I think I'm in love with her."

Quinn stared at him in silence.

"Believe me, Quinn. I would die before I'd see her hurt."

Quinn let out an abrupt laugh. "And I'm to believe you because… wait. Because you're a man of integrity? Is that it?"

"Fuck you, Stacey."

"No. Fuck you, Timmy." Quinn was up out of his seat and his face was instantly in Tim Burke's. "God, this is sweet," Quinn said, turning to go.

Tim's words came out in an icy whisper. "Do you really think I'll let you stay on this case, you pathetic loser?"

Quinn spun around, his hand on the doorknob. "What?"

"Do you really think I can't have your ass pulled off this case and out of your fluff job at District Eighteen? Because it would take just a few phone calls to accomplish that, Stace."

Quinn didn't move a muscle.

"Which public housing assignment would you prefer? Cabrini Green? The Robert Taylor Homes?" Tim walked over toward the door to finish his point, his voice now sharp and angry. "I'll get your ass canned if you continue to harass me. Now get out of here, go find the real mental case who's bothering Audie, and leave my reputation alone."

"Your reputation," Quinn repeated, almost to himself, smiling. He looked Tim Burke in the eye. "As always, it's been a pleasure seeing you, Timmy." He opened the door to see a group of pasty-looking businessmen in the waiting room, all wearing visitor badges and nervous expressions.