big machine upright. She hurt. She felt sick.

The roaring sound was inside her.

Metal screamed over the pavement, showers of sparks ß ared like Þ reworks

on the Fourth of July, and she was burning. Burning with shame. Burning with

pain. Burning with the unspeakable agony of loss.

Dev bolted from the truck and made it as far as the trees at the edge of the

parking lot before she vomited. Shivering, she leaned with one arm against the

rough bark and fought down the next swell of nausea.

“Oh my God, Dev!” Leslie skidded to a stop a few feet away, afraid to touch

her. “Dev, what—”

Not turning around, Dev waved her off. “Go away. I’m okay.” She didn’t feel

okay. She felt like her legs might give out. She hadn’t felt anything like this since

she’d come to in the hospital three days after the accident. Even then, her body

had been so wracked with pain, she hadn’t felt the excruciating wrench of

betrayal until weeks later. Then it had seemed unending.

“I’m sorry,” Leslie said miserably. “God, I didn’t mean— If I’d known, I

wouldn’t have told you.”

“It’s not because of what you said.” Dev wiped her mouth on the back of her

arm and slumped onto the grass a few feet away. She leaned against another

tree and closed her eyes. “Bad memories. It’s been a long, long time since it’s

been this bad.”

Leslie caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She wanted to cry.

Nothing, nothing ever made her want to cry. Not for years and years.

Not like this, not from some place deep inside her where it felt as if wounds

never healed and wrongs were never righted. She hurried down to the truck and

pawed through the cooler Dev must have placed in the back earlier. She pulled

out a soda, popped the top on her way back to Dev, and knelt down close to

her. “Here. Coke.”

“Thanks.” Dev opened her eyes, took the soda, and drank half of it down. She

caught a glimpse of Leslie’s eyes, huge and Þ lled with sorrow. Leslie was pale,

and Dev wanted to stroke her cheek, wanted it

• 80 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

as much as she had Þ fteen years before, and just as then, she knew she

couldn’t. “Don’t go back there, Leslie. Don’t hurt for the past.”

“I let you ride off on that motorcycle,” Leslie whispered. “I knew you shouldn’t

drive. I knew it was wrong. I let you go.”

“I climbed onto that bike, Les.” Dev Þ nished her soda and crushed the empty

can in her Þ st, resting it on top of her knee. “There’s nobody responsible for

that except me.”

“I hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

Dev shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize for not feeling the way I felt.

You didn’t do anything wrong.” Dev took a deep breath and hoisted herself up.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going back to the cabin and get cleaned up. Why don’t

we postpone our trip to the lake.”

“Of course.” Leslie stood, reminding herself they were adults now and what had

been between them had ended on a dark night during the last moments of their

innocence. “Are you all right? I can walk you back.”

“No.” Dev shook her head with a small smile. “I’m okay. I apologize for the

little scene. That’s not normal for me.”

Leslie laughed humorlessly. “I don’t quite know what’s happening, but I haven’t

felt like myself since the moment I arrived.”

“Well, don’t let me add to your troubles. I never blamed you then.

I certainly don’t now.”

Leslie watched her walk away, wondering if Dev realized that before she’d

jumped from the truck she’d been crying. Tears that fell in silence, bridging the

years as if they’d never passed. Leslie had wanted to brush them from her

cheeks, but she’d been afraid to touch her, knowing instinctively that Dev was

somewhere far away. Somewhere that Leslie could not join her, because she’d

forfeited that right when she’d closed her eyes, closed her heart, and let Dev

walk away alone, carrying the pain for both of them.

Dev was gone now, and Leslie was left wishing what she’d wished so many

times since she’d Þ nally admitted who she was. She wished she could take

back the lies.

Her BlackBerry vibrated on her hip and she automatically scanned the readout.

Rachel.

“Hi,” Leslie said.

“I got your message. It’s hell down here. The Dow Corning case Þ nally got on

the docket and I’m scrambling to get experts lined up. Of course, summer’s

coming and everyone is suddenly unavailable.”

• 81 •

RADCLY fFE

“Some people have a life,” Leslie murmured as she walked down the long slope

toward the water, scanning the shore for Dev’s Þ gure.

“What? Missed that. I’m in the parking garage.”

“Nothing.”

“You must be bored out of your mind by now.”

Leslie laughed. “It’s different.”

“When are you coming home?”

Home. Leslie considered the word. She and Rachel didn’t live together. They

didn’t share a home. Her condo, where she slept and ate and worked, felt like

an extension of her ofÞ ce. If she had a home, it was her ofÞ ce. That’s where

she really lived. That’s where she was the person she had become. She should

leave. She should go back to being herself.

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Well, keep me informed. Listen, darling, I have to run. Call me.

Oh, how are you feeling?”

“I’m Þ ne.” Leslie wondered why lies so patently transparent were actually

believed.

“Wonderful. Bye, darling.”

“Yes. All right. Bye.”

Leslie walked out onto the dock and sat on the edge in the sun.

The water that lapped two feet beneath her was so clear she could see the

sandy bottom. Schools of minnows darted just under the surface.

She heard Dev’s voice. I’ve always liked Þ sh.

“Oh, Dev. Why didn’t I know?”

v

Dev looked up from where she knelt on the bank at the sound of footsteps

behind her. She waved, feeling a bit of her melancholy lift when Natalie

sauntered down the trail. She was in uniform, her cuffs buttoned neatly at the

wrists, her name tag above her left breast pocket, various patches denoting

department and rank sewn onto her sleeves.

Her dark hair was twisted into a loose bun at the back of her neck and held with

a plain gold clip. Her smile was radiant.

“Hey,” Natalie said. “I thought that was your truck up there in the turnoff.

Weren’t you going out on the lake today?”

“Change in plans. I’m doing a little close-in work instead.”

• 82 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“Uh-huh.” Natalie squatted down beside her. “You could’ve called me.”

“Something tells me you have better things to do than babysit me.

But thanks.”

“Other things.” Natalie skimmed her Þ ngertips along Dev’s jaw.

“DeÞ nitely not better. How about I collect on that rain check tonight.

Dinner?”

Dev hesitated. Natalie’s message was clear. And honest. She owed her the

same. “I think I’d be lousy company.”

“You’d be surprised what a decent dinner and a good wine can do for your

mood.” Natalie stood, reaching for Dev’s sample case as Dev collected the rest

of her gear. “There’s a nice little restaurant on the lake about ten miles north of

here. Tables outside on a patio. Great view of the sunset.”

Dev was tempted. She didn’t look forward to an evening alone in her cabin with

her thoughts because she couldn’t be certain she could keep her mind off Leslie

Þ fty yards away. She deÞ nitely did not want to have dinner at the lodge.

“Dinner sounds good. There’s one thing you need to know, though.”

“Oh?”

“Besides the fact that I like you, it hasn’t escaped my notice that you’re very

attractive.”

“Good. I’m glad you noticed.” Natalie smiled, and after a quick look over her

shoulder, kissed Dev softly. “As I’ve mentioned, more or less, I happen to think

you’re very attractive too. As in keeping-me-awake-at-night attractive.”

“I’m not sure going there’s a good idea,” Dev said.

“Dinner Þ rst,” Natalie said easily. “After that we’ll see.”

“That okay with you?”

“Yes.” Natalie nodded and ran her Þ ngers up and down Dev’s arm before

stepping away. “It really is. I’ll pick you up in an hour and a half.”

“Okay,” Dev said, taking her at her word. She waved goodbye as Natalie

drove off, then loaded her gear and headed back to Lakeview.

She circled around on the lake path so she could get to her cabin without

passing in front of Leslie’s. She didn’t want to see her again for a while.

Until she had time to get everything back where it belonged, safely locked away

behind the walls she’d constructed.

• 83 •

RADCLY fFE

v

Six hours later, when she and Natalie walked hand in hand down the main path

toward her cabin, Dev was pretty sure she’d succeeded in Þ nding her balance

again. The restaurant had been everything Natalie had promised. The food was

excellent, the view breathtaking, and the weather had cooperated, remaining

warm until well after sundown so that they were able to linger over dinner under