Tory slid a cup of coffee across the counter to Bri, who picked it up automatically as she launched into an excited recounting of everything that had happened in the sheriff’s department since the day Reese left. While they talked, Tory grabbed the portable phone and carried Reggie out onto the deck. She checked that the gate was closed, went back inside to quickly retrieve her coffee, and once outside again, speed-dialed.

“She’s up,” Tory said when Kate answered the phone. She leaned against the railing and looked back into the house, watching Bri and Reese together. It was a sight she’d seen a thousand times, but it took losing that little piece of family to make her realize how much she needed it. They looked so much alike, even more so now that Reese was thinner. But there was no mistaking the stark contrast between Bri’s youthful buoyancy and Reese’s fatigue. It saddened her, to know that Reese had once been like Bri, fresh and eager and optimistic. She’d lived long enough and lost enough to know that there was no going back, but in loving Reese she’d found more than she’d ever lost. Now what she wanted most of all was to give Reese a place to recover her faith in the things that made her who she was. Honor, duty, principle. “What, Kate? I’m sorry. I…I can’t quite believe she’s home.”

“How does she seem?”

“She’s worn out. Quiet.” Tory had lain awake for a long time, listening to Reese’s breathing and trying to determine if she was sleeping. Usually she could tell, but something had changed in the cadence of Reese’s breathing while she’d been gone. It was as if even while asleep every now and then she would stop and listen. Tory wondered what she was listening for and was afraid she knew. There was no respite from danger, when death came in the silent seconds between heartbeats. And as much as Tory wished that she could, she knew she could not protect Reese from the threats that haunted her sleep.

“Is she badly hurt?”

Tory could tell from the tight, flat sound of Kate’s voice just how difficult it had been for her to ask that question. “She’s mostly banged up. I don’t know what’s worse, a nice clean bullet wound or all these damn minor injuries.”

Kate laughed shakily. “You’re starting to sound like a Marine’s wife.”

“Don’t even think it.” Tory bent down and removed a leaf from Reggie’s mouth. “Don’t eat that, sweetie.”

“Do you need me to come and get her?”

“I’ll call you later. I need to go into the clinic, but I don’t want to leave Reese just yet.”

“I know. Jean and I both want to see her, of course, but I think she needs you for a while first.”

Tory watched through the wide glass doors as Bri put her hat on, obviously getting ready to leave. Reese squeezed her arm and said something that made Bri nod seriously. Some order of business, Tory surmised. “I need her for a while, too.”

“When you think of it, tell her we’ll be by later.”

“Thanks, Kate. For understanding.”

“She’s home. That’s enough for us right now.”

“Yes.” Tory smiled as Reese swiveled on the stool and met her eyes. The heat that flooded through her came as a surprise. She hadn’t realized just how cold she’d been. “We’ll see you later.”

When Kate rang off, Tory collected Reggie and went back inside. “Hungry?”

“Some.”

“How about I fix you something to eat, then we all go back to bed.”

Smiling, Reese nodded. “Let me go lock the doors.”

“You ready?” Kevin said, eyeing Carter speculatively. “You still look like shit.”

“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.” Carter knew just exactly how bad she looked. The stitches Dr. King had put in didn’t show much in her hair, but the bruise had seeped down along her jawline, discoloring the right side of her neck. The purple hues matched the circles under her eyes.

“Don’t smart-mouth Allen,” Kevin warned. “She’s royally pissed at you.”

Carter sighed, thinking not for the first time that she didn’t really care what bug Special Agent Allen had up her ass that morning. She had more important things on her mind. Like whether Enzo had contacted Rica. Or if Rica was still in Provincetown. Or if Rica thought of her at all. “I know how to handle suits like her.”

“Yeah. That’s obvious. You’ve been doing such a good job so far.”

“Listen, Kev,” Carter said seriously. “No matter how this goes, don’t put your ass on the line for me. Not this time. Because…” She shrugged. “It’s just not that important.”

Kevin studied her. “You mean that, don’t you.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Okay. So let’s go see what the feds want from us.”

Allen was alone. Carter had expected either her immediate superior or a representative from internal affairs to be there, too. Instead, Allen stood by the window in the small, featureless room, her back partially turned to the door. As usual, she wore a dark navy pantsuit and a cream-colored silk blouse. Her blond hair was stylishly but simply cut. Her shoes were expensive but functional. She was pretty, but she worked hard to make sure it didn’t show. Carter looked at Kevin, who shrugged.

“Have a seat, Detective.” Special Agent Allen glanced once at Carter and ignored Kevin. As Carter pulled out a straight-backed chair in front of the rectangular metal table, Allen added smoothly, “Your presence is not required, Detective Shaughnessy.”

“Now wait a minute,” Kevin protested.

“That’s okay, Kevin.” Carter settled into the uncomfortable chair, smothering a wince as a tender spot on her hip connected with the unpadded seat. “Go get coffee or something. I’ll call you when we’re done.”

Kevin hesitated in the doorway, looking back and forth between the two women, his jaws working as if he were chewing glass. Then he muttered something that was just garbled enough to be unintelligible, which was probably wise, because Allen was regarding him as if he were an alien specimen in a zoo.

“Okay. Sure.”

When they were alone, Allen pulled out a chair opposite Carter and sat down. “I’ve been trying to reach you for over three days.”

“I was indisposed.”

“Yes. I can see that.” Allen slid a file folder in front of her, opened it, and extracted a single sheet of paper. “This is your last report. It was filed almost two months ago.”

“I’m not much for forms.”

Allen closed the folder and pushed it away. Then she leaned forward and laced her fingers together on the table top. “Rizzo is getting forgetful. Ever since we picked him up on Sunday he’s become more and more vague about all kinds of information he was very certain about before. He’s not our only informant, but a large part of the case we’re building against Alfonse Pareto hinges on his testimony.”

“He’s probably scared shitless,” Carter said. “He’s been part of that organization for forty years. He knows what happens when someone talks. It’s one thing to have secret meetings with you in a car under a bridge somewhere, feeding you little tidbits to keep himself out of jail and you satisfied. But climbing up into the witness box and ratting out one of the three most powerful organized crime heads east of the Mississippi? Come on.”

“You’re right. Men like him are often unreliable.” Allen shrugged. “Which is why your report is even more critical.”

“I don’t have a whole hell of a lot to report just now, Special Agent.”

“You’ve had several months to get a handle on Ricarda Pareto’s place in all of this. If you can turn her, then…”

“Rica?” Carter laughed. “If she were involved, which I’ve told you she isn’t, there’s no way she would betray her father.”

Allen sat back and said conversationally, “Not even for you? Not even for the woman she’s sleeping with?”

“We’re not sleeping together. And if we were, it wouldn’t matter. Rica isn’t part of it.”

“We have evidence to suggest otherwise.”

Carter shook her head. “What you have is rumor and wishful thinking.”

“Pareto is using the daughter’s gallery in SoHo as a front for money laundering. It’s relatively small scale for him, but significant enough for us to bring her in. They may be moving drugs through there as well.”

“Not Rica.” Carter’s hands fisted beneath the table, but she forced herself to sit calmly. “Whatever you’ve got, Rica isn’t the one behind it.”

“It’s her gallery. That puts her name on the warrant.”

Cold sweat broke out between Carter’s shoulder blades as sick worry churned in her stomach. If Rica were arrested, the press would have a field day. Her picture would be in every tabloid in the country. She’d never have a moment’s peace or privacy again. “You should be looking at Enzo. You said you had him in the surveillance photos going in there, sometimes when Rica wasn’t even there. It’s probably his sideline. Damn it, Allen, you know it isn’t her.”

“Then get her to give up some information. I want her father’s connection at the port. We’re not just talking drugs. We’re talking automobiles, electronics…maybe even girls.”

“If someone’s moving human traffic, it’s not Pareto. Maybe one of his lieutenants has gone independent. Pareto’s old-school. You know that.” Carter stood, too agitated to sit. She paced in the small room, thought of her barren apartment, and yearned for the feel of salt air on her skin and the beach at dawn. “You can’t get to Pareto through Rica, because I don’t think she knows anything. And even if she did, she’ll never turn.”

“A woman will do a lot of things for love. Or what she thinks is love.”

At the unexpected sound of pain in Allen’s voice, Carter halted abruptly. She caught a glimpse of sadness and regret in Allen’s face before her features reformed into her normal professional facade. Briefly, she wondered if Allen had been the one to compromise herself for love, or if the nameless woman had betrayed her. Because it was clear there had been a woman. But knowing that, even feeling sympathy, did not make them allies. Allen was threatening the woman Carter loved. “If you name Rica in this, I’ll go on record against it. She’s innocent.”