So I put my foot in the other shoe and the feeling it gave me was overpowering. Tears came up my throat and I swallowed them back.

“Ally, girl,” I whispered.

Ally wasn’t done. “I’m not a badass cop or a badass…” she stared at Lee, “whatever-you-are but if I get the chance to do my bit, I’m gonna do it. I mean, that guy interrupted ‘No More Tears’. Burgundy and Indy were kicking ass up there. Something had to be done!”

“I think you made your point,” Lee said from behind me. His arm was still around me tight.

A car angled into the lot and Dad, Malcolm and Kitty Sue were there.

Malcolm charged out of the car, assessed that his loved ones were breathing and healthy and then roared at Ally, “Tell me you didn’t just participate in a high speed chase!”

“We’ve covered this ground,” Hank said.

Lee let me go and turned me into Dad’s arms. Dad held me and kissed my forehead.

“You okay?” Dad asked.

“Yeah,” I answered.

A squad car angled in and Jorge and Carl were there. Carl shot out of the car, his face angry.

“Have you lost your mind?” he shouted at Ally.

It obviously wasn’t going to be Ally’s night.

Though I had to admit I found it a tad interesting how upset Carl was.

Hmm.

Jorge came out slower, his face set and showing little emotion. He approached Lee, Dad and me.

“I don’t know what’s goin’ on, Nightingale, but you should consider putting Indy in a safe house until it’s over,” Jorge remarked.

Lee made no comment to this. Ally and Carl were shouting at each other and Dad was holding on tight. Lee and Hank started making phone calls, Jorge got out his notebook and we all made statements.

Lee put me in the Crossfire after a wrecker came in to tow Ally’s Mustang. Carl sat in the car, the radio microphone in his hand, calling in a report. Tex was going with Carl and Jorge who were taking him back to the hospital to get re-stitched up. Ally and Hank were catching a ride with Malcolm back to BJ’s to pick up Hank’s SUV.

I waved to everyone as Lee pulled away, heading north on Broadway.

“I don’t want to go into a safe house,” I told Lee.

“You’re in a safe house, the condo’s safe. You just keep leaving it.”

I didn’t like the way he said the second sentence.

“Are you thinking of cuffing me to the bed again?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Great.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Thinkin’ about it isn’t the same as doin’ it. You’re a security challenge. I have to keep you safe while not lowering my chances of gettin’ into your sexy underwear, or, more to the point, gettin’ you out of them.”

I thought it likely that Lee was up to that challenge. At least I hoped so.

“By the way, nice performance back there. I especially liked the part where you kicked the guy in the chest. Class.”

Great.

At least his voice sounded a mixture of amused and admiring.

When we got to the condo, Lee let us in and I told him I had to do the round of calls to make sure everyone was all right.

I stood on the balcony with my phone and without me having to ask, Lee brought me three ibuprofens and a glass of water. He watched as I guzzled them, took the glass and then disappeared.

Holy shit.

He was very good at this togetherness stuff.

I called Tod and Stevie first.

They were home, safe and sound and maybe a little freaked out but not mad at me. At least Tod wasn’t, he was more interested in dissecting our act on stage.

“Girlie, we kicked ass. They were on their feet. They were chanting. We gotta go shopping, we gotta get you some mini-Burgundy outfits. We gotta take this show on the road!”

Andrea and Marianne were also safe, though Andrea’s husband said she wasn’t allowed to go out with me anymore which caused a fight as no one ever told Andrea what she was allowed to do. No one. Richie Sambora, the great and glorious lead guitar of Bon Jovi and Andrea’s dream man could have given her an order and she would have told him to go fuck himself.

Duke thought it was a hoot, Dolores was considering backing out of girl’s night out on Wednesday.

I flipped my phone shut and walked into the bedroom. Lee was in the same position he’d been in last night, in bed, on his back, chest bare, sheet nearly to the waist. The light was on but this time, he didn’t have a book and he was fast asleep.

I’d never really had the time to observe him while he was asleep and he looked different. He looked kind of like the old, pre-Special Ops Lee, the hardness and scariness gone, just… Lee.

I wanted to kiss him, as in really wanted to kiss him. He looked good, lying there sleeping. Seriously good. Melt in your mouth good.

Instead I cleaned my face, brushed my teeth and pulled on the Night Stalker tee. I double checked the door was locked and the sliding doors to the balcony were secured. I tiptoed to Lee’s side of the bed, switched off the light and then went to my side of the bed and slid in carefully, so as not to wake him.

I told myself over and over again that I was not going to kick or hit Lee in his sleep. This helped me force out thoughts of bullets flying and how totally out of control my life was.

* * *

I woke up to a hand in my panties, cupping my ass and another one under my shirt, stroking the side of my breast. I was sprawled half-on, half-off Lee, my face tucked into his neck.

“You awake?” he asked.

I nodded, sleepily assessing my semi-aroused state.

His hand moved immediately to cup my breast, his thumb sliding across the nipple. An electric pulse shot through me and the “semi” part of my semi-aroused was a distant memory.

My head tilted to look at him and say something like, “coffee”, “toothpaste” or “more” and his mouth came to mine.

He hauled me up so I was sprawled fully on him, his hand moved out of my underwear and both hands went up my sides, his mouth disengaged with mine, and then, whoosh, the Night Stalker tee was gone.

I was skin-on-skin with Lee. I felt a moment of elation mingled with extreme panic and before I could decide which one to give reign to, I was flipped over on my back and Lee was on me.

At first he was kissing my mouth, his hands everywhere, skimming, gentle and arousing. Then his mouth left mine, went to my neck, my throat, my breasts, my belly, following his hands and then…

Yikes!

My hips jerked in shock as he kissed me there, his mouth moving over my panties.

“You okay?” he mumbled against me.

I mumbled back, “Yes,” but my mind said, Yes, yes, a thousand times, YES!

His fingertips went into the waistband of my underwear and I knew we were close, very, very close. Or, at least, I was close. Panic fled and elation and arousal took firm control and my hands moved, my fingers delving into his hair.

Then the door buzzer went, three quick shots, three longer ones, three quick ones.

Lee immediately stopped what he was doing and came up over me.

“Fuck!” he exploded, “God, I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

He got up and stalked naked from the room.

I laid there, half-naked and fully in shock.

Foiled again.

What kind of luck was that? Was this divine intervention?

I rolled, felt my aching body cry out in belated protest, grabbed my discarded tee from floor and pulled it on. By the time I got it down, Lee was back in the room.

“One of my men has been shot,” he told me.

All aches and pains fled and I jumped out of bed.

“Oh my God.”

“Bobby and Matt are comin’ up, I’ve got to jump in the shower. Let them in, will you?” and he disappeared into the bathroom.

I ran to the kitchen, tore through the cupboards and set the coffee to running when there came a knock at the door.

I looked out the peephole and let Bobby and Matt in.

They looked grim.

“You guys okay?”

Nods, no words.

“Who is it? How is he?”

“He was wearin’ a vest, amour piercing bullets.” This was all Matt said. This was all Matt needed to say.

“Oh no.” I scrambled through the kitchen. Lee had a collection of travel coffee mugs, definitely a man-on-the-go, not one that hangs around and sips his coffee. I yanked three down and asked, “Have you had breakfast? Do you want breakfast? I can make some quick toast.”

“Not hungry,” Bobby forced through stiff lips.

We all stood there staring at each other. I couldn’t stand not doing anything so I pulled the coffeepot out, wedged a travel mug under the spout, and filled the other two mugs with coffee. I was screwing on the tops when Lee came in, hair wet and freshly shaved.

“Let’s roll,” he said and Matt and Bobby started moving.

I handed out coffee, yanking the last mug out from under the spout and tossing the pot back underneath, trailing behind Lee while I screwed on the top.

“This one isn’t full,” I told Lee at the door, feeling stupid and useless.

“That’s okay.” He grabbed it.

“Call me when you know something.”

He bent to kiss me quickly and then he was gone.


While Stevie and I were packing up Burgundy the night before, Lee had gone over to my house and grabbed my bag. He’d brought it up to the condo last night. This was good, I had new clothes to wear and as it was early, I could get to Fortnum’s and help open. The Monday coffee crush would take my mind off Lee’s current activities and the fears that were encroaching that whoever-this-guy-was got shot doing something to help me.

I’d take Lee’s Crossfire, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t mind.

I showered, sucked down coffee and ibuprofen, decided to let my hair dry by itself, slapped on some happy makeup and tried not to look at the shiner which was finally fading. I pulled on my yellow t-shirt that had a picture of Starsky and Hutch’s car, the Striped Tomato, emblazoned across the chest. I yanked on faded jeans, my red belt and red cowboy boots and eased myself down to the garage.

I was sure the Crossfire was absolute heaven to drive but my mind was filled with too much garbage to process it. I didn’t know if the cops had caught Pepper Rick last night. I didn’t like considering Lee, man of action, stuck in a hospital waiting room and what he might learn when the wait was over. I didn’t want to think of what the day might bring.

It was ten past seven, we opened at seven thirty and as I drove up, I saw Jane standing outside the store looking at the sidewalk. I parked the Crossfire right out front and got out, my eyes on Jane who hadn’t moved.

Then I looked to where she was staring and stopped dead.

Pepper Rick was lounging in the doorway to Fortnum’s. It opened onto the corner, at an angle, and he was sprawled, butt and back to the sidewalk, shoulders and what was left of his head resting against our door. He was dead, dead, dead, just like Tim Shubert except there weren’t any splattered brains.

“Jane, honey, step away from there,” I said quietly.

She was frozen still and I noticed she had her cell phone in her hand.

“Jane,” I said a little more loudly, trying to get her attention.

She jumped, her cell came out of her hand, flew end over end through the air and landed on Pepper Rick’s chest, clattering down to rest by his hand.

We both watched the cell fly, land and settle.

“Oops,” Jane said and I think I saw her make the mental decision to get a new phone.

I dug my cell out of my purse, considered who to call and settled on Hank.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Um, it’s Indy. I hate to tell you this but there’s a dead guy lounging in the doorway to Fortnum’s.”

Silence.

Duke rounded the corner and Jane and my eyes turned to him, his face began to light with greeting, his eyes flicked down and he stopped short.

“Fuckin’ hell!” he boomed.

“Duke just arrived,” Hank said in my ear.

“Yep.”

“I’ll get someone on it, do we know this dead guy?”

“Well, I don’t have to worry about being kidnapped again.”

Hank disconnected and Duke looked at me.

“Was he makin’ a call?”

I wanted to laugh, then before that thought fully formed, I decided I wanted to cry. Seeing as crying wasn’t an option for me because I wasn’t a sissy, I decided I wanted to scream.

In fifteen minutes, the place was surrounded by cops including Hank, Dad and Malcolm and the scene was taped. Gawkers and coffee customers were being directed away by uniforms.