“I’ll do what I can to see that Ms. Grechi is safe. I don’t want you trying to do it yourself. You’re not a cop in this town.”

“It’s mostly my fault she’s in this situation.”

“Nothing is ever that simple. You know that.”

“Maybe it is, and we just don’t want to admit it.” Carter picked up her coffee cup and gestured toward the house. “I should go. I’ve bothered you and your family enough.”

“Let me have a number where I can reach you…and keep me informed of developments.”

“Will you call me if there’s a problem with Rica?”

Reese studied her. “I don’t know. It depends on what the circumstances are. Like I said, cop or not, you took yourself out of the equation when you fell in love with her.”

“Doesn’t seem right, does it?” Through the glass, Carter watched Tory play with Reggie on the living room floor and spoke almost to herself. “That the one thing that should bring you the closest keeps you apart.”

“If you’re lucky, that’s not the way it works out. Give it time. Things might change.”

“Yeah.” Carter grinned sadly at Reese. “Anything can happen, right?”

After Carter and Reese exchanged numbers, Carter apologized once again to Tory for interrupting their morning and left.

Tory settled on the couch with Reggie. “You’re not getting involved in anything with her, are you?”

“I’m just passing on information to the squads. I won’t be doing anything myself.”

“Whatever she’s involved with, I saw the results. Both she and her girlfriend have been assaulted in the last few days.”

Reese frowned. “You saw her girlfriend, too?”

“Yes. Um…Grechi. Ricarda Grechi. Someone assaulted her. And then went after Carter.”

“You saw them both at the clinic?”

“Yes.”

“As emergencies?”

“That’s what it was, both times.” Tory bent down to retrieve the toy Reggie threw on the floor and then regarded Reese speculatively. “You’re using that tone of voice like I’m a suspect. What’s on your mind, Sheriff?”

“Sorry.” Reese sat on the couch on the opposite side of Reggie. “Those two are involved with some seriously bad people. I just don’t want you anywhere near it.”

“I’m a doctor, darling. I have to do my job.”

“I know. But if either one of them ever calls you because of another emergency, I need to know right away. And I don’t want you to see them at the clinic alone.”

“It’s that bad?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“You don’t need to worry.” Tory leaned across the baby and kissed Reese softly. “We’ve had all the excitement we can stand in this family for quite some time. I’ll be careful.”

“Thanks.” Reese smiled as Reggie climbed into her lap.

“Not so fast. I need you to promise that you won’t get in the middle of Carter’s problem. I saw what they did to her, and you are in no condition to fight anyone.”

Reese reached for Tory’s hand. “I’m not looking for trouble. I’ll pass the information on, and I’ll be out of it. The only thing I care about is being here with you and Reggie.”

Tory kissed her again. She believed her, but she knew that as soon as Reese’s body had healed, she would need to go back to work. Until she did, her mind and her heart would never be well. “And we’re very glad you’re here. So very glad.”

Chapter Thirty

Carter dug her cell phone out from under a pile of unfolded laundry. “Wayne.”

“Where are you?” Kevin asked.

“On the Cape.” Carter perched on the end of the sofa and surveyed the disaster of her apartment. Half-packed boxes of dishes stood open on the kitchen floor, two suitcases bulging with clothes leaned against the wall by the front door, and the remains of the pizza that had been both lunch and dinner rested in the center of the coffee table next to an empty bottle of wine.

“Got a TV?”

A trickle of foreboding crawled up her spine. “What’s going on, Kevin? I’m not in the mood for games.”

“Breaking news on the local station. A ‘well-known’ crime figure just went up in flames. Car crash on some back road outside the city.”

“Who?” Carter’s hand tightened on the phone.

“First reports are sketchy, but it looks like Enzo Brassi.”

“Jesus.”

“In spades,” Kevin said. “You don’t happen to know anything about it, do you?”

“I’m a couple hundred miles away, Kevin.” Carter rummaged through several boxes until she found an unopened bottle of wine, then tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear while she searched the kitchen for a corkscrew. “And I don’t know anything about blowing up cars.”

“Where’s Rica?”

Carter’s voice went cold. “I don’t know. She’s not in town…at least the gallery’s been closed for almost a week. Just what are you suggesting?”

“Ah, hell. I don’t know. I was about to call you about something else when I heard the news report. There was a fire at Rica’s gallery in SoHo just after four this morning. That’s a little bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Was she there?” Carter asked urgently.

“Place was empty. Most of the damage was in the back offices.”

“Professional job?”

“Most likely.”

“Why the hell didn’t you call me sooner?” Carter growled.

“I didn’t call you because I didn’t hear about it until just about an hour ago when Allen decided to share the information with the rest of the team. Seems that gallery’s been closed all week, too.”

Carter digested the information as she poured the wine. “If both galleries are closed, Rica’s probably out of town somewhere.”

“I suppose you checked around there for her?”

“I’m not stalking her, Kevin. I’m clearing out my apartment right now.” Carter sighed. He knew her too well. “Okay, I drove by her house a couple times and the gallery a few more than that, just to see if anyone was watching her places. Nothing.”

“Allen’s about ready to go postal over here. With Brassi dead and the records in Rica’s gallery destroyed, she doesn’t have a case. At least not from the angle she was working.”

Carter had to smile. “Now there’s a shame.”

“She’s not stupid, Carter. She’s gonna be looking hard at you for this.”

“Let her. She won’t find anything.”

“It sure looks like someone tipped Pareto about Brassi running a little sideline at that gallery.”

“You think?” Carter took a healthy swallow of wine and hoped the satisfaction didn’t show in her voice.

“I guess you’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”

“There’s nothing you need to hear,” Carter said quietly.

“That’s not the same as there being nothing to tell.”

Carter let the silence be her answer.

“You need to be careful, partner. You’re walking a very thin line.”

“I’m out of it, Kevin. It’s all over.”

“Don’t be so sure. Just keep in touch.”

“Yeah. I’ll do that.” Carter closed the phone as Kevin rang off and stared around the room. Bare walls, boxes waiting to be filled, and the only memories worth keeping were the few minutes that Rica had spent there with her. Not much to say for her or her life.

Rica gave the cabdriver ten dollars for the five-dollar trip from Race Point to the center of town. She hefted her briefcase and carry on, and stepped out into Carter’s driveway. “Thank you.”

“You want me to wait?”

“No. I’ll call you back if I need you.”

Carter’s Explorer was ten feet away, the back open and partially filled with boxes. When Rica saw the packed vehicle, she pushed away the immediate sense of loss at the thought of Carter leaving. Carter hadn’t left yet. That was all that mattered. That was all Rica had thought about on her twelve-hour trip. She stopped at the foot of the stairs as Carter started down with an armful of clothes. Carter wore threadbare jeans, a black T-shirt, and running shoes. Her hair was longer and wilder than Rica remembered. She looked dangerous and sexy, and Rica felt a tiny shiver dance through her.

From three feet above her on the stairs, Carter regarded her with surprise. “Rica. Hello.”

Awkwardly, Rica shifted her luggage and then simply put it down on the ground. “Moving out?”

“Yeah.” Carter edged past Rica and dumped the garments into the back of her SUV. “You look good with a tan. Bermuda?”

“Aruba.”

“I hear that’s the place to visit. Been gone long?”

“Five days.” Rica realized her linen blouse and slacks were rumpled from long hours on the plane, and since she hadn’t slept a full night the entire time she’d been away, she probably looked as bad as her clothes. “I came home a couple of days early.”

Carter smiled. “Having too much fun?”

Rica smiled too, but her voice was serious when she replied. “I wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like unfinished business.”

“I think you pretty much finished things the last time we talked.” Carter sidled past her to the stairs and gestured toward her apartment. “I’ve got an open bottle of wine. You look like you could use a drink.”

“I know that’s not a compliment just at the moment.”

Carter lightly touched her fingertips to Rica’s cheek. “The bruise is gone.” She brushed a stray strand of hair away from the corner of Rica’s mouth. “You’ve got a spectacular tan.” She leaned forward as if she might kiss her, then stopped. “You look fantastic.”

“I see that your head injury hasn’t healed yet.” Rica caught her scent…a faint odor of clean sweat, rich grapes, and the sea. Her stomach tightened with the memory of Carter’s hands on her, in her. Thickly she said, “I’ll take that wine.”

“Okay.” Reluctant to move, wondering when she might be this close to Rica again, Carter hesitated another second. “Let me get your bags.”

“Take the light one. Your wrist must still be sore.”

Carter didn’t argue, because Rica was right. She grabbed the briefcase in her better hand and led the way upstairs. Once inside, she propped Rica’s luggage next to her own, found another glass, and poured wine for them both. Then she set the glasses on the table in front of the couch and cleared a space for them to sit. The open doors to the front deck allowed in enough of a breeze that it was comfortable inside.