In the morning, Audie woke up, opened her bedroom door, and tripped over something large. She banged her head on the opposite wall and started cussing.

Quinn had already pulled out his weapon and Audie went scrambling backward down the hall on her hands, like a frightened crab.

"God, Audie! You scared the shit out of me!"

"Me? You! You're pointing a gun at me! Put it away! What the hell are you doing in the hallway? Put away the gun!"

He holstered his weapon and groaned, rubbing a hand through his disheveled hair and over his scratchy beard, trying to calm his heart.

"I came to check on you last night."

She blinked at him and clambered to a stand, pulling down on her nightshirt, letting her pulse die down. "You were worried about me?"

"Yes."

OK, fine, Audie decided. He could be worried about her if he wanted. She'd find a way to live with that. She took a step forward and offered him her hand.

"Good morning, Quinn," she said, hoisting him to his feet. "Thanks for keeping me safe."

"My pleasure."

"And thanks for not shooting me."

"I aim to please."

"Get the hell away from me with those things!"

Stanny-O backed off, returning the Frango Mints to his upper right desk drawer, eyeing his partner warily.

"All you had to do was say 'No thanks.'"

Quinn looked up at him, stupefied. "No thanks? I've been telling you 'No thanks' for four fuckin' years, and apparently you haven't heard it a single goddamned time because every day-every day, Stan-you ask me if I want a mint and the answer is no, I don't want a mint. I don't like 'em and I never fuckin' will."

"Jeez, Quinn." Stanny-O shoved his hands in his pockets and stared hard at his partner. "Are you hammered?"

"What?"

"Well, excuse me, but you don't usually ramble on like this unless you've been drinking."

Quinn closed his eyes and said softly, "Of course I'm not drinking." Then his eyes flew wide and in a much louder voice he added: "But I'm gonna start slamming heads if you ask me one more time if I want a Frango-fucking-Mint!"

Stanny-O began to nod slowly and smoothed his fingertips along his goatee, letting the understanding settle over him. He sauntered over to Quinn's desk, taking a wide, cautious berth before he plopped down on the edge.

"Not getting any, eh, buddy?"

Quinn turned to him and glared.

"I take it she don't want to go there."

Quinn ignored him.

"She's a beautiful woman. Hell, she's fun, too, just wonderful. I think I'm in love with her myself." Stanny-O began chuckling. "Want some coffee?" He walked across the room to the coffee island and came back with two Styrofoam cups.

"You know, Quinn, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven the night Audie and me went for pizza after one of her games. There she was, sitting across from yours truly, easily the prettiest woman in the place-even in her uniform with her hair up all messy the way she wears it-and she had me laughing so hard at one point, telling me stories about what a crazy mo-fo Darren Billings was, I thought I was going to choke to death. I haven't laughed that hard with a woman in I don't know how long."

Stanny-O sighed. "Did she ever tell you about dating Billings, Quinn? Did she ever tell you what he used to do at the Popeye's drive-through?"

Still no reaction.

"Oh, well." He shrugged. "I'm sorry she's making you nuts."

Quinn grunted.

"I think she's perfect for you. I really do. And I know it must be really hard to be close to gettin' some but not really gettin' any, if you get what I mean. It's gotta be tough, buddy."

"Are you done yet, Stan?"

"No, I'm not done, Stacey. You're going to tell me what's going on."

"No, I'm not."

"Sure you are. You're my partner and this is our case and she's our responsibility. So you're going to tell me what's going on."

Quinn closed his eyes and wrestled with the fact that he was close to having a heart-to-heart with Stanley Oleskiewicz. He trusted the guy with his life every day, true enough, and knew he was in good hands-but his ego?

"She's driving me completely crazy."

"What's she doin'?"

"Being Audie."

"I hear you."

"Being goofy and disorganized and sexy and tenderhearted. Being unable to tell a lie without falling over her own two feet. Being vulnerable." Quinn looked up to Stanny-O and frowned. "Did you request the Helen Adams files again?"

"Yeah. I got 'em. Kerr and McAffee should be here any minute." Stanny-O gave his partner a solid pat on the shoulder before he went back to his chair. "Rick Tinley's the uniform assigned to her until five," he said, tossing a stack of files to Quinn.

"Good. Tinley's a good guy."

"You going to keep doing the night shift?"

"As long as it's needed," Quinn said.

Stanny-O started snickering. "Can I just tell you what a privilege it is to know a man such as yourself-a man who can make that kind of personal sacrifice for the well-being of our fair city?"

"Blow me, Stan. Besides, you're on duty tonight until I get through with practice-probably ten-thirty or so."

"Yeah, I know. So, what's the deal-is she running around the apartment in one of those little Victoria 's Secret French maid outfits or something? I mean, I think I need to be prepared."

"Sorry, no. She sleeps in old soccer jerseys."

Stanny-O let go with a long and low whistle. "And I bet they don't got a number five on the back, no matter what you say."

Quinn looked up from the files, and for the first time that morning he felt himself smile. "You know what, Stan-My-Man? You're absolutely right-it's the number ten."

Stanny-O winked. "Told you."

Officer Rick Tinley was nice enough. He was about forty-five, soft-spoken, and had already shown her pictures of his three kids. But the idea of a policeman following her around made Audie terribly uneasy. Wasn't it supposed to have the opposite effect?

Audie was third in line at the coffee shop and kept glancing back at the officer as he leaned against the wall, nodding like one of those stupid wobbly-necked dogs in the back of a rusted-out car.

Good grief, she was bitchy this morning. Maybe once she got some caffeine in her system she'd mellow out. She rooted through her bag for some cash.

Tinley said he was on a diet and just wanted a medium house blend with skim milk, but Audie knew that only the big guns could handle her foul mood this morning. She scanned the menu on the wall until she saw the promise of deliverance-the double espresso mocha freeze grande.

She sighed. No, it wasn't hot sex with Quinn, but it was cold chocolate with whipped cream, and for now, it would have to do.

She was weighing the advantages of a carrot muffin over her usual cranberry biscotti when the man at the front of the line turned around with his order. It was Tim Burke.

"Well, good morning, Audie. What a pleasure this is!"

Revulsion slammed into her at the sight of him, and a chill traveled up her back. Rick Tinley instantly appeared at her elbow.

At that moment, Audie felt trapped. She imagined how good it would feel just to scream at both of them to back off!

She saw the amusement flash through Tim's eyes as he smiled. "I'm glad to see that you're safe and sound. Bye now."

With a polite nod to the officer, Tim walked out onto Chicago Avenue, instantly disappearing into the morning crowds.

"This is nowhere near City Hall," Tinley said with disgust. "What's he doin' up here?"

Audie felt her heart pound and her stomach knot. With what she now knew about Tim, she couldn't bear to look at him! Was he following her? Was he dangerous?