"Today. He's going to give you a call Monday. He's very excited-wants to make a bunch of changes. Good luck, Russ."

Audie reached out her hand and waited until Russell, in shocked silence, offered his. She pumped it hard and smiled at him. "Later."

She turned toward the curved carpeted stairs that led from the ballroom floor to the sitting rooms and lounges. Just a few more steps and she'd be free of this room. Of this life. She'd wait for Drew out front. She'd mail her resignation to Malcolm on Monday.

Audie felt someone reach for her wrist, and she pivoted quickly to see the bartender.

He flashed her a toothy grin. "Just wanted to let you know I'm going on break. Would you like to come with me?" He opened his tuxedo jacket to reveal two Heinekens stuffed in an inside pocket.

Audie laughed, surprised and flattered by his determination. She studied him a moment, admiring just how cute he really was-greenish eyes, sandy straight hair, a wide, sensual mouth… "Oh, hell!" she groaned.

"Hey, I'm twenty-one, if that's what you're thinking. Whaddya say, soccer coach?"

Audie sighed. "Look, thanks for the beers and the offer, but no. I need to go home."

"With or without company?"

Jeez, the guy was stubborn, and for a second she was tempted. But it would only be a pale imitation of what she really wanted, and no amount of wishful thinking would turn this kid into Quinn.

She popped up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Go find a girl to love. She's out there. Have faith."

She went running up the stairs, holding up her long skirts as she went. Maybe Drew was on his way in the front door. That would mean three minutes and they'd be at her car. Fifteen minutes and she could get out of this stupid dress and stupid shoes that made her look like Dorothy in the Land of Oz. She couldn't wait to get the hell out of Oz.

"Audie?"

What now? She spun around only to find herself staring at… Tim Burke?

Somebody just shoot me.

The run did nothing for him. Nearly ten hard and fast miles along the sticky, dark lakefront, and he didn't even feel tired. There was no sense of peace in him. Just fury, loneliness, and a stomach-churning dose of doubt.

Quinn peeled off his sweat-soaked clothing and stepped into the shower. He never thought he'd say this, but he missed Rocky Datillio. He'd been a roommate in name only, but now that he was married and gone for real, the house felt empty.

Maybe it was just that somewhere in the back of Quinn's mind he'd pictured Rocky moving out and Audie moving in.

He'd pictured a lot of things.

Quinn let the water rush over him and he shuddered. The last two days had been wild. The last two days had nearly done him in.

Timmy Burke was looking at nineteen counts of felony assault and two counts of stalking. The mayor went apoplectic. The reporters were salivating all over themselves. Commander Connelly told him that he and Stanny-O had done fine work, but they'd taken ten years off his life expectancy.

Then Quinn came clean to Connelly about his relationship with Audie, and the commander got so red in the face that Quinn was afraid he'd have a stroke on the spot. He had no idea what Connelly was going to do to him on Monday, but it wouldn't be pretty.

At the initial hearing that morning, Tim had been released on a $100,000 bond and told to stay away from Audie. It was what they expected.

After the hearing, Quinn went back to work-it may have been Saturday, but he didn't know what else to do with himself. The congratulations he kept hearing only annoyed him. He and Stanny-O had done their jobs-they'd made an arrest in an important celebrity harassment case. The added bonus was that Timmy Burke had finally gotten what he deserved.

Yet none of it mattered to Quinn.

Because all he thought about was Audie. And all he felt was awful.

Quinn let the cool stream hit his face straight on, hard enough to smack some sense into him, he hoped. Da and Michael and Pat came to see him at the station house today, and Michael had been downright nice to him-a sure sign that he'd become an object of pity.

What a god-awful scene that had been, admitting to them that he hurt like hell.

"We're right here with you, boy-o," his father had said.

Quinn felt like punching something.

He raked his fingers mercilessly through his hair, scruffing up the shampoo, groaning as the water cascaded down the top of his head and along his shoulders.

He couldn't stop picturing the words he'd seen above Audie's signature, and the more he tried not to think about the words, the clearer the mental images became. He knew no amount of running would ever shake the pictures loose from his brain.

Audie had called several times yesterday and today, crying to Stanny-O and begging to talk to Quinn. Rick Tinley drove her out to his house early that morning. But he couldn't face her yet-not until he knew exactly what he wanted to say.

Because the truth was that just two days ago he'd asked Autumn Adams to marry him. But today he almost wished he'd never met her.

Quinn turned and let the water beat down on his back. The nightmares last night had been wicked.

The first was Audie in danger, running from something just beyond his vision, screaming out his name. And though he could see her and hear her, he couldn't reach her, and all he could do was watch helplessly as she cried out.

He woke up nauseous, drenched in cold sweat. And he was angry-so damn angry at himself for failing her.

When he went back to sleep, the torture only intensified. His hands were filled with her warmth and her curves and his fingers were trailing along the hollow of her throat, running down the silken slope beneath her ribs, dipping into the slippery center of her, so ready for him. He was lost in her scent and her heat and was disappearing into everything she was when he woke up-his body in agony.

Despite everything, Quinn ached for her touch and her laugh. He wanted to hear the way she said his name-"Stacey"-half a private joke and half an endearment.

Goddamn it, he missed her. Despite everything, he loved her. And she loved him-he couldn't be wrong about this. He could not be wrong about Audie.

Then what was he wrong about? Because he was sure as hell wrong about something.

Quinn turned and closed his eyes under the stream of water, feeling the dread grip his heart and squeeze it dry. Something didn't fit and he damn well knew it-he'd known it the instant he and Stan set foot in Timmy's office with the search warrant. But he'd ignored his gut because of the hard, cold evidence that stared him in the face. Besides, Connelly told him his gut couldn't be trusted when it came to Timmy Burke, right? He also had to admit that the prospect of sending Timmy Burke to jail was damn near intoxicating.

So what had he missed? Where was the piece he'd not seen?

Quinn walked through the series of events in his mind for the hundredth time.

Fact: An anonymous call from a City Hall pay phone claimed that the vice mayor's computer contained threats to Homey Helen. The voice was muffled but was possibly that of a female. The message got relayed to Quinn and Stan.

Question: How did the caller get access to Tim's personal files? What motivated the caller to read through them and decide to contact the police?

Fact: The threats were right where the caller said.

Question: Was Timmy so stupid that he'd compose those notes on his office computer? Was he so arrogant he thought he'd never get caught?

Fact: Tim Burke was stalking Audie. Quinn saw him at the library book-signing with his own eyes, and Tinley saw him at the coffee shop. Plus, there was the other hard evidence-the flower delivery receipts, the security video of Audie's apartment building, the phone records.