~ Split Second ~
by Stone


Disclaimers: See Part 1
Note: I would like to thank Linda for being a great beta on this story. It would not be what it is without you. Thank you very much.

Note: This story is finished. I will post it in four parts this week.

Part 4 - Conclusion

Chase stepped from the shower to the sound of her doorbell ringing. Something about the way it buzzed told her the finger that was on it had been there for a while. She wrapped a robe around her and threw the towel over her shoulder. "I'm coming; I'm coming."

Rachael stood on the doorstep. She took in Chase's lack of clothing and wet hair. It looked for a second as if she had something caught in her throat, then she composed herself. "I'm sorry. I should have called first, but this is important. May I come in?"

Without waiting for her answer, Rachael brushed past her and walked into the entry. Chase closed the door as she spoke in a sarcastic tone. "Sure. Please…come on in and make yourself at home."

Rachael turned and met her eyes. There was no humor in her gaze, just steely determination. "I want to know more about the shooter's murder, but I have to tell you something first. I know who Christena Snell's lover is. He's a guy by the name of Kevin Connelly. He's on the"

"The SWAT team." Chase finished her sentence, her mind in sudden turmoil. "How do you know this?"

"My father told me. After I got to my office this morning, he dropped by."

Chase hid her surprise. "How does he know?"

"I didn't bother to ask, because he wouldn't have told me. He may not be on the payroll anymore, but he always protects his sources."

A light went on in Chase's mind and for some reason, she remembered The Call. "Does your father have a dog?"

Rachael frowned. "No, but sometimes he keeps my brother's fiancé's mutt. Why on earth--" …"

Chase waved off her question. "It's not important. Just tell me this…do you believe him?"

"We don't get along, but my father isn't a person who plays games. He said it was the truth so, yes, I do believe him."

"He wants to help you."

Rachael's jaw went tight. "He wants to protect the family's reputation."

Chase sat down on her sofa, wet towel and all. Rachael sat beside her, her voice turning urgent. "You said Hopper was too dumb to plan something like this, but Kevin Connelly doesn't look like he would fall into that category. If he and Christena were lovers and they wanted David out of the way, he could figure out a way to set me up. Connelly's been on the edge of this thing from the very beginning. He could have even been the one who gave Hopper the money you saw deposited in his account."

Chase met her eyes and shook her head. "He's not on the edge of this, Rachael. He's right in the middle of it all." Chase took Rachael's hands, her expression more serious than Rachael had ever seen it. Rachael's fingers looked small in her larger grip and suddenly Rachael didn't feel as confident as she had when she had burst through the woman's front door. "I didn't tell you this before now for reasons I can't explain, but I have a tape, Rachael." Chase squeezed the small hands that were now in hers. "It is a tape from the security cameras at Happy Hour's."

Rachael felt her mouth go dry as she imagined reliving that moment, even if just by video. "Are you saying the shooting was filmed?"

Dropping Rachael's hands, she stood to walk across the room to a series of bookcases and cabinets that spanned the length of the wall. "The camera was programmed to take snapshots of the area at timed intervals. It didn't catch the actual shooting, but it caught a lot."

Rachael's pulse was pounding, it was roaring inside her ears. Chase's words seemed to come from a distance. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier, Chase?" she asked faintly.

"I have my reasons." The way she spoke told Rachael that she wasn't going to explain.

"Then why tell me now?"

"I probably shouldn't have, but you surprised me with Connelly's name. He's on the tape. He was there that night."

Rachael frowned in confusion, then she cleared her expression. "SWAT came…after the shooting."

Chase nodded. "They wanted everyone on deck. Snell sounded panicky when he called for back-up. They wanted to cover their bases."

Rachael understood. When an officer requested help it was considered serious. David couldn't have known at that point that the men had guns, but he had been asleep, she reminded herself. And drunk. His judgment would have been completely off, his mind in chaos. "Do you know Connelly, Chase?"

"I've met him. How about you?"

"I didn't before the incident at Christena's, but a few days after that, I saw him at the range. I thought then it was just a coincidental meeting, but maybe it wasn't."

"You think he was following you."

"I don't know. He could have just seen me and decided he'd yank my chain a bit. He gave me his card."

"Why?"

Rachael explained, but Chase was shaking her head before Rachael even finished. "You think it was a come-on? Chase, that doesn't make sense if he and Christena are an item."

"I don't think any of this makes sense, but I know for sure that he was there the night David was killed and you think he is sleeping with David's wife. Those two things are enough to make me wonder."

Rachael crossed the room and put her fingertips on Chase's chest. "Would you show me the tape?"

Her expression started to close. "That wouldn't be a good idea, Rachael."

"I told you that last night, but you didn't listen to me. You took me to your car and kissed me anyway." She flattened her palms against Chase's skin. "Why should I listen to you?"

"Because this is different." She covered Rachael's fingers with her own, twining them together and gripping them tightly. She needed them off her skin, so she could think. "I don't want you to get hurt any more than you already have been."

Chase's answer should have surprised her, but it didn't. She'd already begun to see, if not acknowledge, the woman behind the IA rules. "I can handle it, Chase."

"I'm sure you can, but it isn't necessary. Kevin Connelly was there. You can take my word for it or ask Palmer. He'll confirm it."

"I believe you, but I still want to view the tape."

Her eyes went over Rachael's shoulder as if she were considering her request or lying. When they came back to Rachael's face, their color had chilled. "I don't have the tape here, Rachael. It's at the office."

She wanted to argue but knew it would be useless. Chase wasn't going to give in. "All right." She dragged out the syllables. "I'll accept that for now. Where do we go from here, Chase?"

"We don't go anywhere." Tightening her robe, Chase stepped around Rachael. "You're leaving and then I'll decide the next step. It'll probably involve putting a tail on Christena Snell and Connelly." She padded into the entry and waited at the front door for Rachael to follow. "You're leaving," she repeated in a louder voice.

When Rachael didn't appear, she reversed her direction. Rachael was still in the same spot. "I'm not going anywhere." She crossed her arms over her chest. "If you want to get rid of me, you'll have to throw me out, Chase."

"Rachael, c'mon! I've got to get dressed then I have to decide how I'm going to handle this. I want you out of here." When she didn't move, Chase put her hand on the knot in front of her robe as if she were about to pull it off. "I need to get dressed. I warning you…Rachael."

She dropped her gaze to the knot where Chase's fingers rested, then she lifted her eyes to her face. "What?" She paused a moment with a raise eyebrow. "Do you need help…getting dressed?"

Cursing loudly, Chase turned around, ripped off the robe and headed for her bedroom. Standing in front of her closet, she yanked on a pair of jeans and a sports bra. Rachael was right behind her when she turned around.

The sight of Chase completely bare from behind stunned Rachael for a moment. It was very apparent to her that the thirty-eight year old worked out. She shook her head and made her legs move to follow the frustrated woman. "I can't just stand on the sidelines, Chase. This is tearing me up inside."

She put her hands on Rachael's shoulders with a sigh. "Rachael…" She closed her eyes tightly and paused for a moment, trying to control her tone. "Do you understand just how many rules and regulations I've already broken? You're a smart woman so you must know. Are you trying to get us fired?" She didn't give Rachael time to answer. "You must be. That's the only reason I can think of that you would insist on being included in your own damned investigation."

For a second, one split second, she thought Rachael might start crying, but she didn't. Instead, she looked Chase straight in the eye. They were inches apart, so close Chase could feel Rachael's breath when she spoke. "If that's the only reason you can think of, Chase, then let me give you a few more." She moved a little closer. Chase didn't know if she should take advantage of her nearness and try to kiss her or be worried for her own safety. Rachael spoke slowly and deliberately, her manner as set as her expression. "My job is my life. I don't have a spouse or a lover. I don't have kids. Hell, I don't even have a pet. All my so-called friends have abandoned me and I'm on my own. If I'm not completely exonerated by this investigation, I might as well quit. My career is the only thing I care about and I'm not going to abandon what little control over it I have left. Not to you. Not to anyone. I can't."

She stopped to take a breath and that's when something appeared in her expression that Chase hadn't seen before now. It looked like desperation and Chase's heart cracked open. She slipped her hand behind Rachael's hair, her fingers curling around her neck. "You should give me a chance, Rachael. I can help you. I'm good at what I do."

"So was I," she said tightly. "But no one remembers that now."

Chase closed her eyes as if it hurt her to hear the words. When she opened her eyes, Rachael could read her surrender and a flicker of hope came over her. "Let me finish getting dressed. I'm not promising you anything, Rachael, but we'll talk." She tilted her head toward the bedroom door and smiled. "Go wait for me in the living room. I can't think when you are this close to my bed."

Chase's obvious desire warmed her, but her acceptance of her plea meant even more. She put her hand on Chase's cheek then she kissed her. "Thank you, Chase." Her voice was a whisper, but her heart was screaming the words.

Chase kissed her back. "Go fix us some coffee or read the paper or whatever. I'll be done in a minute."

"I'll be waiting." Returning to the living room, Rachael wandered around the room, her mind a thousand miles away. When she finally stopped pacing, she found herself in front of the huge cabinet where Chase had stood earlier. She assumed it hid the television and stereo equipment. The double doors in the center were ajar and without thinking, she reached out to close them. But they wouldn't shut. She pulled them open and the reason was immediately obvious. An empty cardboard tape case protruded from between the television set and the side of the cabinet. She reached in to push it back and the familiar label caught her eye.

The case was from the APD crime lab. The date and case number, as always, had been printed on the side. Security Camera was written just below the time. Her eyes flew to the VCR where the tape was in the slot. She caught her breath as her heart began to hammer. Chase had lied. She had told her that she didn't have the surveillance tape. She said it was at the office, but here it was. Her hand trembled as she pushed in the cartridge and turned on the television set. The black-and-white scene was grainy, the images jerky. They stuttered past in a broken sequence. She recognized the parking lot of the club and the entrance, people coming and going. The picture then skipped a bit and blurred. The crime lab had clearly worked on the tape to eliminate dead space. When the recording slowed and focused again, she saw herself coming around the corner to the building. A knot of pain began to build inside her chest. The tape sped up again and more patrons walked into the bar, then the door burst open to reveal her pushing the two suspects ahead of her. She tensed, waiting for what happened next. Just as Chase had said, the few seconds of the shooting itself had not been captured, but the aftermath had. Her fingers over her mouth, Rachael watched as she kneeled beside David on the now-bloody sidewalk and tried to get a pulse. No sound had been recorded, of course, but none was necessary. Sinking to the floor in front of the television set, Rachael stared at the screen in disbelief. Flooded with adrenaline at the time, then with grief and confusion later, she had only relived the tragedy in her dreams. Seeing it now, the details so stark and the results so permanent, she felt the façade of strength she had been able to maintain slowly disintegrate. Unlike the glass in her kitchen last night, she shattered into a thousand separate pieces, each one sharp as a razor.

"Damn." Chase's curse was whispered, but she could have screamed it and Rachael would never have heard it. She walked quickly to the VCR and shut it off.

Wide-eyed with shock, pale with disbelief, Rachael continued to stare at the screen, even though it had turned solid blue.

"You didn't need to see that, Rachael."

She didn't reply.

Chase took her by the arm and pulled her to her feet, the movement jarring Rachael out of her silent agony. "I was wrong, Chase."

"About what?"

She looked up at Chase. "I said I could handle it, but I was wrong. I shouldn't have watched that tape."

Leading her to the sofa, Chase sat and pulled her down beside her, putting her arm around her, her sympathy for Rachael welling up from a source she couldn't control. She knew she was about to make a terrible mistake, but she really didn't care. "You never give yourself a break, Rachael. Why couldn't you just let it slide for once?"

Her eyes were huge and filled with pain. "I learned to be tough when I was a kid and the lesson has stayed with me. I'm afraid to let up now. Who knows what would happen?"

"You might be surprised."

"I doubt that." She turned her head slightly and looked at the television set. "I might not have a choice anymore, though. This one--this one's gonna be hard to beat."

Her voice caught on the last word and the desire to comfort her overtook Chase's common sense. She pulled Rachael to her and just held her. Rachael looked up into Chase's eyes and her eyes told Chase what she wanted. Chase kissed her, her mouth fitting perfectly over hers. Rachael put her arms around Chase's neck and a low murmur escaped from the back of her throat.

She needed Chase, Chase thought in a daze. The independent, strong-willed woman who intimidated men and women, needed her. She needed her strength, her encouragement, her ability to make things okay. Rachael needed her and Chase knew that wasn't right.

Clinging to Chase, Rachael deepened the kiss Chase had started, her tongue slipping into her mouth, the last of her misgivings disappearing as her passion grew. She wanted Chase to make her forget what she had just seen. If she didn't, she would have the images in her head forever. Despite her earlier speech, suddenly the cost didn't matter to her. She was ready to pay any price to stop the pain.

Their kiss eased into something other than consolation. Chase's mouth turned even more insistent than it had been last night in the car and Rachael felt herself falling into a place she wasn't sure she could find her way out of. For Rachael the need to be in control was vital to her very survival, right now. Realizing how quickly it had all gotten out of hand, she felt a moment of pure panic. But then, with Chase's mouth on hers, and those wonderful hands moving over her, she realized that she hadn't lost control. She'd given it. Freely.

Chase lowered her to the sofa, her mouth never leaving Rachael's as her hand went beneath her blouse and caressed her bare skin, her fingers sliding upward to her bra. Etching a path around the lace cup, Chase started to groan just as Rachael found the buttons on her shirt.

Undoing them one by one, Rachael stopped long enough to allow Chase to lift her blouse and pull it over her head, then she slid Chase's shirt off her shoulders. She buried her hands in Chase's hair and pressed her face to her chest, then willed time to stop. If she never moved again, she would die a happy woman.

Chase didn't allow that to happen. She brought her hands to Rachael's shoulder, then used one of them to tip Rachael's face up. Chase's expression and her body shifted subtly. Rachael wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't been holding her so tightly, but beneath her fingers, Chase's muscles grew taut and corded and even her jaw turned to stone. Her eyes, so strange to begin with, seemed to become a different color.

Desire, dark and swift, sparked deep within Rachael and everything began to shift, including her need for solace. The transition wasn't smooth, either. A violent shudder ripped through her as she looked into Chase's eyes. Tottering on the edge of a cliff she had never been to before, she realized that Chase had initiated the change deliberately. Chase read the dawning comprehension in her expression and that was all the confirmation she needed. The air between them heated and then ignited. Neither of them cared what was burned in the process.

Kissing her forcefully, Chase removed her bra so quickly Rachael heard something tear. Chase then slowed her pace and began laying soft wet kisses along the sensitive column of her neck, causing Rachael to arch her neck, giving her easier access. She lingered there, pressing light, feathery kisses to the hollow of her neck and shoulders, then lower, until she reached her breasts. She put both her hands around her breasts and her mouth found a nipple. With Rachael's fingers digging into her shoulders and back, she kissed then gently bit her right breast. Her teeth softly scraping at her nipple and soft skin. The feeling was an exquisite combination of pleasure and pain. Everything but the need for the pleasure being promised fled from Rachael's mind.

Rachael reached down and framed Chase's face in her hands, staring into those strange beautiful gray eyes and wondered at the feelings flowing through her for this woman. Suddenly, annoyed with even the slightest barrier between them, she tugged Chase's sports bra off in one quick motion. Still looking into Chase's ever-changing eyes, her fingers reached for the buckle on Chase's belt and she began to unfasten it, the cool metal warming beneath her feverish hands. A split second later, Chase's pants were off, then so were her own.

Chase's hand glided slowly down Rachael's body, feeling her tremble at her touch. She dipped her head and took Rachael's nipple into her mouth and picked up where she left off. Taking Rachael back to the thin line of pleasure and pain.

Rachael arched her back and held Chase's head to her breast. "Chase, please, I need you to touch me. I can't wait. Touch me."

Chase left her breast and slowly kissed a path down her smooth stomach, before settling between her thighs. "I want to taste you…not just touch you," she whispered.

Rachael breathed one word. "Yes."

Chase nudged Rachel's thighs farther apart, then cupped her hips, letting her tongue move over her inner thighs, teasing.

Rachael moaned loudly and her hips rose, searching for Chase's mouth. "Please…."

Chase breathed deeply and closed her eyes. She slowly touched her with her mouth, then opening her mouth over her she let her tongue dive into her wetness.

Rachael's breath caught in her throat. Her hips moved meeting Chase's plunging tongue as it entered her.

All tenderness gone, Chase wanted to devour Rachael and she took hungrily from her. Her shoulders pushing Rachael's legs farther apart, higher on her shoulders. Her tongue stoked her swollen center and Rachael wrapped her legs around Chase and held her, her hips rising again to press Chase more firmly against her. Chase felt the trembling under her mouth as Rachael's legs tightened around her.

Rachael's eyes shut tight trying to fight to prolong the explosion that was consuming her. She felt herself pulse against Chase's mouth as she continued to stroke her. Wave after wave crashed on her and she cried out with pleasure, shocked by the sounds that were coming from herself. Just as Rachael felt another orgasm coming to an end, Chase entered her swiftly with two fingers and Rachael's fire started all over again. Finally, her legs fell lifelessly to the sofa and she was too weak to even hold Chase to her.

When Rachael had calmed her breathing and was able to focus, she found gray eyes staring at her. Chase had kneeled down beside the sofa and was just staring down at Rachael. Rachael cupped her cheek. "I knew it would be like this with you. Out of control to the point it made me weak. I hate to admit, you scare me, Chase Davidson."

Chase lowered her gaze. "I know. It scares me too."

Rachael used her fingers to lift Chase's face so she could see her beautiful eyes. "Come here. Let me touch you."

Chase's expression turned sad, but she managed to smile. "I don't think I could stand it. Your touch…it would be too much, Rachael. I can't." Chase got to her feet and continued to stare at Rachael.

Rachael was shocked. She didn't know what to say, but she couldn't look away either.

Chase knew that Rachael deserved an explanation. "I'm sorry, Rachael. We both know I have a job to do and your touching me will only confuse the truth when I find it. I'm just glad I was able to see through my desire before this went any further."

Rachael just stared in silence. She could hear the strain in Chase's voice, but she could also see the determination in her eyes. She would not beg to touch her.

Chase left the room so she could dress in private. After the intimacies they had just shared, Chase wasn't quite sure why she felt the need to do this, but she didn't examine her motivation closely. There were too many other issues racing around inside what was left of her mind to give the thought the consideration it was due. Issues like how Rachael's career would be over if anyone found out what had just happened. Issues like whether or not she should even continue on the case. Issues like how stupid they had both been.

Chase had to admit the truth. She had not stopped when she realized comfort was not what Rachael needed. The emotions she was dealing with were too traumatic, too life-changing to be handled so delicately. She had to have passion, passion so overwhelming that it momentarily took her to another place and time. Chase tried to give her just that, but like an out-of-control blaze, the flames had consumed her, too. Their entire relationship had been dangerous in ways she didn't want to think about, but now they had risked everything.

Facing the other direction, Rachael was pulling on her blouse when Chase returned. Putting her hands on Rachael shoulders, she brought her back against her chest and buried her face in the dark silk of her hair, wrapping her arms around her from behind. "What have we done, Rachael? What in the hell have we done?"

She turned in the embrace and lifted her eyes to Chase's. Her expression was different, Chase thought, softer somehow and more open, but as she spoke, a flash apprehension came over her features before she could hide it. "Please don't tell me you regret this, Chase."

"Oh God." She pulled Rachael against her and spoke in a whisper. "Why in the hell would I say something like that."

"I don't know." Her voice was muffled as she spoke. "Maybe because you might feel that way? That's why you wouldn't let me touch you.…"

"Never." Chase shook her head. She knew if she let Rachael touch her that she would never want her to stop. She wouldn't give her up. "No matter how long I live, I'll never regret this. I had to touch you." Bringing her hands to Rachael's cheeks, she cradled her face with tenderness, emotions flooding her that she couldn't ignore no matter how much she wanted to. "You are a special woman, Rachael. There is so much more to you than I realized." She paused and searched for the right words.

Rachael closed her eyes. "Don't say that word. I hate that word."

"What word?"

"The one that's coming next. But…" As she spoke, Chase's throat closed. Rachael opened her eyes and there was resignation in them. She stepped away from Chase and cursed softly. "Dammit, Chase…"

She tried to draw her back but Rachael resisted her tug. "I shouldn't have let this happen, Rachael. I should have stopped us, but we cannot let it happen again."

She turned. "What difference does it make now? We're already in so deep…"

"I am, but I don't really give a damn about my career anymore. You do. And you should. You still have a chance at keeping it as long as no one finds out."

"Chase…"

"I'm not just talking about this, Rachael." She tilted her head toward the sofa behind them. "The sex is the least of what I've done wrong. It's a little late to point this out now, but I've told you things I shouldn't have. I've let you know details of the case. I've done everything wrong that could possibly be done wrong. I don't want to prove your innocence only to have some idiot question the outcome because of how we've acted. Someone could and you know it." She stalked away from Rachael. Her heart felt as heavy as the burden she had been carrying, the burden of proving Rachael's innocence. She had never wanted to clear an officer as much as she wanted to clear Rachael, but that very desire could be Rachael's undoing, not to mention her own. Her back stiff, she stared out her front window, then she spoke without turning. "Go home, Rachael. Go home and let me do my job."

She almost made it to her house without breaking down. Somewhere between the end of her street and her driveway, she let the last few hours go through her mind. Everything they had done, everything they had said and everything that they didn't say. Parking her car, Rachael put her head against the steering wheel, the words they had spoken repeating themselves inside her brain over and over. She had thought her life was spinning out of control before this, but tonight she had actually seen it disappear. Chase was right. If anyone found out they slept together, her career in law enforcement would be over, not to mention Chase's. Despite its size, the community was a close one. Everyone would know. A hint of hysteria rose inside of her and came to the surface. She started to laugh, then something else happened and her eyes began to sting. Her throat went tight and all at once, her chest hurt. She reminded herself that Stevenses never cry. Lifting her head, she stared out the windshield that was suddenly blurry. She clearly wasn't a Stevens anymore.

**********

Chase was on her way to her office to talk to her boss when her cell phone rang. "Davidson,"

"This is Chief Henderson. Lieutenant, we need to talk. Can you meet me in my office in half an hour?"

"I assume this is about the Stevens case?"

"I don't want to get into this over the phone. Will you meet me?"

Chase allowed a long silence between them as she debated whether or not it was a good idea to meet with the woman. She also wondered if she were meeting the Chief of Police or Lauren Henderson, the woman. "Yes. I will meet you."

A half hour later Chase walked into Chief Lauren Henderson's office and was surprised by her first impression. Lauren radiated strength and control. People were drawn to the strong confident personality and Chase could see why. 'Charismatic' was the word Chase would choose to describe the woman.

"What can I do for you, Chief?"

She gestured toward a chair on the opposite side of her desk. "Please have a seat, Lieutenant."

Chase sat down. "Thank you."

"I need to know how it's going with the case. What I've been hearing and seeing doesn't look good. This officer should be cleared of this by now."

Chase shook her head. "I know you're getting my reports. I can't give you what I don't know." Chase started to get up. "If that is all, Chief, I have a job to get back to…."

Lauren stood up. "Please sit down, Davidson. I have to ask you something."

Chase slowly sat back down. Her curiosity was obvious.

"If I could give you some infor…."

Chase held up both hands. "Stop! Whatever you have to say, know this. I will make it official. I will not hide or lie about anything for anyone. Now, unless I have misunderstood you in some way, do you still want to tell me anything?"

Lauren sat down and glared at the Lieutenant. After a long silence she sighed. "I received a call at home from a man. He told me an interesting story about Webster Park." Lauren gave Chase a chance to comprehend what she was saying. A chance to read between the lines. "Rachael is very vulnerable right now for many reasons. I would hate for you to make that worse."

Chase studied the woman. She decided that she was looking at Lauren Henderson, the woman. And the woman was not only jealous, she was scared. "Since you're not holding any punches I'll show you the same courtesy. I know that you are one of the many reasons that Rachael is vulnerable."

Chase saw true fear in Lauren's eyes for a split second before Lauren put her mask back up. "What is it that you think you know, Davidson?"

Chase didn't miss the angry tone in Lauren's voice. "I'm surprised that you are willing to have this conversation here at the station. You have gone to such pains to keep it a secret."

Lauren took a deep breath. "Rachael's career is at stake. She has gone through so much recently. I don't know how much more she can handle. Maybe you should just do your job and leave it at that. Leave Rachael alone."

Chase could hear and see the sincerity in Lauren, but she also knew that Lauren had selfish reasons for not wanting Chase to pursue Rachael. "Rachael is a good cop. I know that. She is also an incredible woman and I believe we both know that. I will do my job just as I always have, but I will not be threatened. What happened at the park was…unexpected. Rachael needed comforting and it got out of hand. I know that you can get me removed from this case and maybe even thrown off the force for what happened, but I want to prove Rachael's innocence. I don't think you are going to report this, because it might open a can of worms that you can't close."

Lauren knew Chase was right. She wanted to try and bluff her and it was backfiring. "I just don't want Rachael hurt anymore. She doesn't need you confusing her or using her."

Chase's anger was coming to the surface now. "You should have thought about that before you hurt her."

"I'm sure you have heard the rumors. I've heard them concerning you. I couldn't risk it." She got up out of her chair and walked to the window without looking at Chase. "The rumors…I was hearing them more often. I tried to put some distance between us. Hoping the rumors would die down, but it didn't work. I had to choose."

Chase shook her head slowing, not believing what she was hearing. "Between Rachael and your career?"

Lauren turned abruptly and faced Chase with anger showing on her face. "Don't judge me. I've worked hard to get here. I couldn't give it up for…." She couldn't finish the sentence. She dropped her head as tears burned her eyes.

A look of disgust added to Chase's expression. "You couldn't give it up for a woman that was risking the same thing."

Lauren straightened her shoulders and wiped her eyes. "I didn't want Rachael to have to choose, so I chose for her. She would have chosen her career. I know that. I know Rachael."

Chase stood up and walked to Lauren. "Rachael had a right to choose for herself. She may have to make that choice again in the future and I will not take that from her. There is one very big difference between you and me, Chief. I would give up my career for a woman like Rachael and would have no regrets or shame in doing so."

"She will choose her career over you or me. Why put her through that?"

Chase lowered her eyes and thought about her response. "You want to make this all about Rachael, but it was your career that you were concerned about. It was your hard work. Your image. Did you ever really love her?"

Lauren rushed forward, but restrained herself. "Damn you, Davidson. You know nothing about me. Don't pretend you do." She stepped away from Chase and calmed herself. "Get out of my office."

Chase smiled. "Sorry about the sore spot, Chief." She walked out before Lauren could say more.

**********

Debbie McLain threw a fit at Chase's request for a tail on Christena Snell and Kevin Connelly, but in the end, she relented. Approving the expense for two days, her boss made it clear Chase would get nothing more. Chase understood. She only got what she did because Debbie didn't want to look bad in front of the chief should Connelly's involvement be proved. Two days of surveillance were worthless unless they got lucky, but either way, Debbie could claim success. After checking Connelly's schedule, Chase put one man on Christena and one on the SWAT cop on his first day off. Nothing happened. On the third day, Connelly put in for a vacation day for the following Friday. Chase hadn't spoken to Rachael since she had made love to her because she didn't know what to say to her. She still didn't, but that afternoon, she called her.

She didn't bother to say hello when Rachael answered. "I've had a tail on Christena and Connelly for two days, but we've gotten zip. I'm going to follow them myself on Friday. I'll let you know what happens."

If she was nonplussed by her lack of phone manners, Rachael didn't show it. "Let me go with you."

"Absolutely not." Her voice was firm. "Things have been screwed up enough already, Rachael. I'm not going to compound the issue."

"Please, Chase. I--I'm going crazy. I've got to do…something."

"I let us do something already." Her reference to their lovemaking was clear. "We can't afford a repeat, Rachael."

"I understand." She spoke quietly. "That's not what I want, either."

A sharp pain stabbed Chase as Rachael spoke. Chase softened her voice. "I didn't say I didn't want it, Rachael. I said we can't afford it. Don't twist my words. You know what I mean. I'm talking about us being seen together. Not what happened between us."

"I knew exactly what you meant, Chase. You're the one who turned the words around. The truth is I don't care about what happened between us. It was over before it even started."

She had been in IA way too long not to recognize a lie when she heard one. But Chase had never fallen in love with a cop she was investigating, either. Maybe she thought Rachael was lying because that's what she wanted to think.

"All I'm concerned about is my career, Chase. If I don't take the risk and try to help myself, I won't have anything at all later. I told you this the other day and nothing has changed. You've got to let me help. It's the only thing I have left."

Truth or not, Chase didn't know which hurt her more, Rachael's denial of what happened between them or the searing pain in her voice. Chase put the choice out of her mind. "And if someone spots us?"

"You can lie and say you were interviewing me again." She paused, her jaw tightening. "I've got to see for myself, Chase. I've got to be sure."

"Pick me up at ten." Chase's tone was composed. "We'll take your car. Christena won't recognize it."

**********

Before they got to the end of the block Friday morning, Chase pointed to a convenience store with a phone booth out front. "Stop there. I want to make sure she is at home before we start this wild-goose chase."

Rachael followed her instructions then watched as she crossed the parking lot to the booth and inserted the coins. She wore a pair of jeans a and dark blue T-shirt. The jeans hugged her narrow hips and the shirt made her eyes seem lighter. Despite what she had told her over the phone, Rachael had thought constantly about what had happened between them. She knew in her heart nothing between them was over and she suspected, no matter how the investigation ended, the situation would stay that way forever. Chase had tunneled into the deepest part of who Rachael really was and she was there to stay.

What made Chase so damned attractive? Was it her power? Was it her age? Was it her body? All three? The thought of spending hours alone with her doing surveillance had almost sent her over the edge, but her career was in the balance, so nothing short of her own death would have kept her away. Still, it was going to be a long day.

Chase opened the car door and slid inside. "She's there. Let's go."

On the way over, Chase outlined the route she wanted their surveillance to take. She didn't stop talking until Rachael exited the Southeast Freeway and wound her way to Snell's subdivision. "Any questions, Rachael?"

Rachael's mind had returned to their lovemaking and she hadn't heard a word of her plan. "No." She shook her head. "No questions."

Chase didn't reply. Stopping the car four houses down from the Snell's house, Rachael parked the Toyota, relief sweeping over her that Chase hadn't pressed the issue. She should have known better.

Chase was quiet for a moment more, then Rachael felt her stare move from the house to her profile. Chase spoke slowly. "Actually, I'm not too sure about that last part of the plan. Do you think that's the best way to handle it? What would you do if you were Christena and we did that?"

Rachael turned to face her. "I don't have a chance in hell of getting the answer to that question right and you know it. I wasn't listening to a word you said."

"Why not?"

Rachael's eyes went to slits. "Why do you think?"

Chase looked away from her and said nothing. After a while, she reached over the seat and drew a line down the back of Rachael's hand. Her soft touch left a fevered trail that did nothing to clear up Rachael's mounting frustration. Then Chase spoke softly. "Why don't you talk for both of us. Otherwise, we're going to drive ourselves crazy."

She didn't know if she felt better or worse to know that Chase shared her confusion. She bit her bottom lip then released it and began to speak. "I always wanted to be a cop. I grew up hearing my brothers and father talk about the life and I never considered doing anything else."

Chase sighed inwardly with relief. If she wanted to talk about her childhood, it was fine by her. Just about anything Rachael wanted to do was turning out to be fine by her. Unfortunately. "I've heard rumors about you and your dad. That he didn't really want you to join the force. Is that right?"

Rachael gave her a teasing look. "I thought you knew everything about me. Wasn't that in my file?"

Chase shook her head. "Afraid not."

"Well, it should be because it is the truth. He didn't even go to my graduation." Her words were tinged with more sadness than anger. "He went to my brothers'. But not to mine."

"Have you ever asked him why?"

"I don't need to…he made his feeling clear." She flicked her gaze in Chase's direction then back toward the Snell house. Her glance was fast, but not fast enough for Chase to miss the pain in her eyes. "He never thought I was good enough for the force. And he still doesn't."

"Because you're a woman?"

"Probably. Who knows?" She shrugged. "Who cares?"

"You do," she said quietly.

Rachael's expression closed and her profile went stony. "You couldn't be any further from the truth. I learned a long time ago that my brothers were my father's priority. I came in a distant fourth, after them, his job and his car." She shook her head, her dark hair glinting in the summer sun. "He doesn't know it, but I made a deal with him after my graduation. I don't want his approval anymore and in return, he never gives it."

Before Chase could pursue the issue, she turned the tables on her. "So what was your ex's problem? You told me she didn't want you to be a cop, either. Couldn't she handle the hours?"

Rachael's interpretation of her failed relationship with her ex made Chase laugh. "My hours were the least of her concern. In fact, she worked more than I did. It got to where we never even saw each other, but that was fine with me because whenever we did get any time together, she would use it to launch into her you-don't-make-enough-money routine, which was always followed by her your-job-stinks-and-isn't-prestigious-enough routine."

"She was right."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I wanted to hear it."

"Is that why you teach on the side?"

"You been reading my file?

"Gossip."

Chase nodded. "No, that's not why I teach. I teach because I enjoy it. Most of my students are officers already and they're trying to climb an extra rung on the promotion ladder or they just want to learn. They're motivated."

"Would you ever quit the force and teach full-time?"

"Actually, I've been thinking about doing that very thing."

"Why is that?"

She met Rachael's gaze. "Because I'm too damned old to do this anymore. I've seen it all and done it twice. I'm ready to move on." Chase suddenly leaned forward and grabbed the dash. "Start the car, Rachael. The garage door's opening and she's backing out."

Looking at the Snell house, Rachael did as Chase instructed. The Van headed away from them and Rachael put her Toyota in gear.

Chase cautioned her. "Not too close."

"I know how to tail. I'm very good at it, in fact." Her voice went sharp. "When was the last time you followed a suspect?"

"Fine. I get your point." Chase made an impatient motion with her hand. "Just keep her in sight and don't let her know we're back here."

Rolling her eyes in response, Rachael slowed the Toyota while ahead of them, Christena slid the green Windstar through a stop sign. When the van swung into a parking lot of a daycare center twenty minutes later, Chase glanced at Rachael with new appreciation. "You are good at tailing. I'm impressed."

Rachael sent her a look. "I shoot even better than I drive."

Chase opened her mouth to answer, but Rachael interrupted, nodding toward the center. "She's dropping her son off. Does she have a job?"

"Not that I know of. She didn't before the shooting." They watched the woman and child join the parade of parents and children going into the low, square building.

Seeing David's son prompted Rachael's next question. Rachael didn't look at Chase as she spoke. "Did you and your ex ever discuss having or adopting children?"

"Yes."

Rachael's head turned quickly of its own accord, her expression showing that she expected Chase to explain.

Chase glanced at her then sighed. "She never thought the time was right and I didn't push her." She paused and seemed to be remembering a time that was gone. "I think I knew deep down that the relationship wasn't going to work. I didn't see the point in having children just so we could fight over them later."

Her answer made sense and it confirmed what Rachael had already suspected. Chase was one of those people who really did care more about the people around her than she did about herself.

They sat in silence until Christena Snell reappeared. She walked quickly to her van and climbed inside, but she didn't pull out of her parking space. Rachael watched as Christena's head ducked down and she reached for something on the floorboard. A second later, she came back up then leaned toward the rearview mirror.

Chase spoke impatiently, squirming in her seat to get a better view. "What in the hell is she doing? Getting a phone or what?"

Rachael spoke calmly. "She's putting on lipstick. In a minute, she'll probably take out some mascara and a hairbrush, too. She bent down to get her purse."

Finally the van backed out. Rachael followed the vehicle to the nearest freeway entrance. Christena led them straight into the Village. An upscale area of shops and older homes near the University, the minivan stood out among the BMW's and Mercedes. She slid into the first parking spot she found and left Rachael and Chase stranded.

Chase spoke as she opened the car door. "I'll follow her. You park. We'll reconnect by phone."

Rachael had to go over two more streets until she found an empty parking space. Her phone rang as she was locking the car. "She went into a Cuban place. Lots of window, though. I'm across the street at a juice bar and I can see her."

Rachael hurried down the sidewalk, joining Chase a few minutes later. Chase had bought two drinks and was sitting at a bistro table that fronted the street. "Here." Chase pushed one of the cups toward her and made a face. "I don't know why the hell they say these things are good for you. They taste awful."

"Of course they do." Rachael climbed onto the stool beside her and reached for the cup. "If they tasted good, they would be bad for you. That's the way the world works. We always want what we shouldn't have." Their eyes met over the drinks then they both looked away.

Ten minutes later, Kevin Connelly walked into the restaurant and sat down with Cristena Snell. Rachael sucked in her breath as Chase cursed.

Kevin Connelly reached over and covered the grieving widow's hand with both of his. Leaning closer, he said something and she gave him a small smile, ducking her head and looking up at him through her lashes.

Chase shook her hand slowly in disbelief. "Shit."

The waitress set drinks before Connelly and Cristena and they lifted their glasses and tapped the rims together. Rachael spoke with barely disguised excitement in her voice. "They're celebrating something."

Chase sent her a look. "C'mon Rachael, you're too good a cop to jump to conclusions. We don't know that's what they're doing."

"Chase, there's no other reason to do what they just did."

"It still doesn't make them killers."

They sat for another hour and watched Connelly and Christena eat their lunch. Chase ordered another round of juice, but the second ones tasted worse than the first.

Finally Connelly signaled the waitress for their check and five minutes later he and Christena were on the sidewalk. He wrapped her in a tight hug then pulled back to lightly stroke her cheek. After a bit, he kissed her and they separated.

Chase stood. "Tell me where you parked and I'll go get the car while you watch them. We'll meet at the corner."

Rachael pulled her keys from her purse and handed them over, giving her directions at the same time. Five minutes later, Chase pulled to the curb and she jumped in. "Christena left and went toward the freeway. He's just pulling out."

"We'll go with him this time."

"Okay." She nodded toward a dark SUV. "He's up there. In the Hummer. I guess the SWAT guys get paid pretty well, huh?"

"Not that well. He's a car nut. Last count, he had six stickers for six vehicles." Chase angled the Toyota back into the line of traffic and they ended up two car lengths behind Connelly. "His family has money. Haven't you ever heard of Connelly Towers over at the medical center?"

Chase could feel her stare of surprise. "He's one of those Connellys? I'm impressed."

"You should be. Connelly's parents are at every A-list event. If they are not, then it isn't an A-list event."

Rachael's expression turned skeptical, so Chase explained. "I keep up with the society pages. His grandfather makes the money and his father gives it away. They're very big in the conservative wing of things. Very big as in White House big. They're very generous with their wealth, too."

"So how on earth did Kevin end up a SWAT cop?"

"That's one for the shrinks, not me." Chase slowed and changed lanes. Connelly was heading for the west side of town. "He's doesn't need the money; that's for sure. His house is paid off, he doesn't use credit cards and as far as I know, he's the only guy on the SWAT team who has his T-shirts tailored."

Rachael shot Chase a questioning look, but made a statement. "You didn't get that from the newspaper."

Chase threw her a look, then changed lanes again. Connelly was weaving from one side of the freeway to the other, looking for breaks in the traffic. Chase might have thought the cop had spotted them, but almost everyone in Atlanta drove the same way. They followed Connelly for another twenty minutes before he took an exit at the last minute.

"He's going to the club." Rachael thumped her hand against the dash. "Damn, I should have realized that's where he was headed when he started out this way."

Chase glanced across the seat. "The club?"

"Connelly belongs to the same shooting club I do. It's right down here." The SWAT cop signaled a turn a few miles later then swung the vehicle into a paved parking lot. Chase continued past the low-rise building, pulling into the parking lot of a McDonald's a few blocks down to make a U-turn.

Five minutes later they were back on the freeway. Chase tried to make conversation but Rachael only answered with grunts. When Chase parked the Toyota in her driveway, Rachael roused herself from her thoughts and told Chase goodbye, but her mind was a somewhere else.

**********

Rachael went to bed thinking of Chase and woke up the next morning doing the same thing. The hours in between had probably been filled with dreams of her, too, but she couldn't remember. Thank goodness. Being with her yesterday had been enough of a nightmare. All day, she wanted to pull Chase to her and never let her go and then she would remember Chase's words and hold herself back. A few minutes later, Chase would look at her a certain way or turn her head just so and the cycle of desire and longing would start all over again. Rachael thought the day would never end, but when it did, she hated to leave her.

The only way she could function was to deliberately focus on the man she had seen approaching Kevin Connelly in the parking lot of the range as they'd driven past. The supervisor of the crime lab, Frank Telson, had appeared to be furious as he walked up to the SWAT cop, who looked none too pleased himself. Rachael had said nothing about what she had seen to Chase and she rationalized her silence to herself that morning as she headed in to work. Chase hadn't told her she had the tape, so she hadn't told Chase she'd spotted the two men. Her actions didn't make sense, but it did make them even. Maybe she could tell Chase later. After she talked to Frank Telson.

Stepping out of the elevator, she started to her cubicle on automatic pilot. Suddenly a woman came out of one of the side offices and Rachael had to dodge to her right to miss her. The other woman did the same and they stopped just short of colliding. Rachael raised her head with a smile, then her expression slowly changed. Too late to pretend they were strangers, she and Annette stood face-to-face in the center of the corridor.

They said each other's names in unison and a pang of loneliness hit Rachael squarely in the chest. It didn't matter that the hallway was full of people, all she could think about was how much she had missed her friends and the support they had once given her.

Annette recovered first, but her manner was stiff and uneasy. "Hey, Rachael. How are things going?"

"I'm great," she lied. "How're you?"

"Fine." Annette's eyes darted over Rachael's shoulder then came back to her face. Annette didn't want anyone to see them talking. She would have cut and run if she could have done so without looking obvious. "I've been busy, you know. With work and everything."

"Have you seen any of the gang?" The question popped out before Rachael could stop it.

"They're all fine." A dull blush spread up Annette's strong cheekbones. They had gotten together. Rachael realized instantly and they had left her out. Although it was no surprise, the discovery hurt, and Rachael pulled back. This wasn't high school, she reminded herself. This was the real world and she had to stand on her own two feet. She didn't let her reaction show, by speaking calmly. "That's good."

A clumsy silence filled the space between them, then they both spoke again, at the same time.

"I've got to get going…"

"I'd better get back…"

They smiled at their awkward synchronicity, then Rachael stepped to one side and Annette started past her. As the other woman drew near, however, Rachael had a sudden brainstorm. Before she could decide if it was a good idea or not, she reached out and touched Annette's arm. "Annette? Can I…can I ask you something before you go?"

Annette sent another quick look up and down the corridor. "I don't really have the time…"

Rachael didn't wait for her to finish her excuse. "Do you know a SWAT cop named Kevin Connelly? He's blond, nice looking, blue eyes?"

Annette nodded almost instantly. "I know who he is, but I don't really know him. He was friends with an admin assistant I know named Taylor Martin. They used to meet sometimes after work for a drink. Knowing Taylor, more like three or four drinks.

"Big drinker?"

"Taylor was. In fact I'm sure I wouldn't have known anything about the situation at all, except we were at a party and the alcohol had been flowing pretty freely. Otherwise, Taylor was very discreet, even with me, and we were pretty close." She paused. "Long story short, I think they might have had something going on, but you know how tough it is around here if you're not part of the 'team'. In the end, Connelly was interested in a long-term relationship and Taylor wasn't. Connelly apparently turned kinda scary after that." Her expression shifted. "Look, Rachael, I've really got to go. I'll…see you around."

Rachael wondered why Taylor Martin was not part of the team, but Annette was already halfway down the hall. Rachael decided she would just have to find out on her own. And she would. Right after she talked to Frank Telson.

**********

The usual stack of bullshit announcements and memos waited for Chase on the corner of her desk that morning. She swept them into her wastebasket without a second glance, setting her briefcase in their spot. After flipping on her computer, she went for coffee, then returned to look up Connelly's personal file. Thoughts of Rachael kept intruding, however. Chase knew she should keep her hands to herself, but she wasn't sure she had the willpower, despite sending her away the other day A relationship between the two of them wouldn't take either of them any where but down. She didn't give a damn for herself, but this wasn't just about her.

Rachael's explanation of what her career meant to her had made her ache, but it took that kind of dedication to be the kind of cop Rachael was. Chase knew because she had been one once. Sacrifices were made to reach that level, but what Rachael didn't yet understand was that in the end, the rewards weren't always worth what you gave up. Rachael still thought she could make a difference. Naivete aside, if that's what she wanted, then Chase needed to see that she got the chance. And then that meant keeping her out of her bed, not matter how desperately she wanted her there. Chase had done a lot of bad things in her life, but ruining a good cop's career wasn't going to be added to the list.

Sipping her coffee, Chase turned her concentration to the task at hand, renewing her memory with the mundane: Connelly's address, his record of commendations, his length of service, complaints against him. The scant details of the SWAT cop's personal life held none to the messiness inherent in the majority of records that Chase read. He'd never been divorced because he'd never been married and on paper, at least, he seemed like a model citizen. The cleanliness of the man's life said a lot, though. And Chase wasn't sure it was all good.

Her coffee was cold by the time she closed the file, exited the program and made her plan. Picking up the phone, she got the information she needed in order to proceed. She had let everything slide when she had started on Rachael's investigation and her normally well organized files had become chaotic. She cleaned them up, but while she did so, her mind returned to her living room and Rachael.

The time went swiftly. Glancing at her watch, she realized she was running late. She put herself in high gear and reached the Jeep in record time. Stabbing her remote in the direction of the vehicle, she pressed the button with a jerk, but the click she usually heard didn't happen. She hit the button again, but this time the car locked itself. Frowning, she leaned down and looked through the window. The Jeep had been unlocked already. She spoke out loud to no one. "What the hell?" Unlocking the vehicle once more, Chase bent to peer inside and spotted a piece of paper lying on the passenger seat. It had writing on it. And it wasn't hers.

Chase set her briefcase down, considered a booby trap, then reached for the door. It opened with a loud click, no bomb, so Chase reached inside, pulling the note toward her with the end of her ballpoint pen. The letters were all caps, neatly printed in a single line on an ordinary piece of white copy paper.

SINCE WHEN DO BAD COPS DO THEIR OWN INVESTIGAIONS? BACK OFF, BITCH. SHE'S NOT WORTH IT!

Chase read the note a second time. Then a third. After reading it a fourth time, she knew she didn't need to be a detective to figure this one out. Somehow, Connelly had learned about Chase and Rachael. If they persisted, he would see that everyone else knew about them, too. And he would have their jobs.

Crouched beside her open car door, Chase sighed and rocked back on her heels. She hadn't bothered to tell Rachael what an asshole Kevin Connelly was because there had been no reason to, but a friend of Chase's had tangled with the SWAT cop before on an excessive force complaint. The IA officer had recommended an extended leave and psychological counseling. Connelly had gotten a slap on the wrist and back pay.

Chase threw her briefcase onto the seat, then closed the door, making sure this time that she locked it. Reaching the ground floor of the parking garage, she started walking. The evening sun had dipped behind the high-rise buildings that lined the downtown Atlanta streets, but the temperature hadn't abated with its disappearance. The unlucky workers who were just now escaping their desks moved down the sidewalks with such lethargy Chase almost slowed herself. Then she remembered her goal and sped up.

Two blocks over and three blocks down, she came to the double doors she had been searching for, "Charlie's" spelled out on the glass in elaborate gold lettering that seemed inappropriately ornate. Primarily a boxing gym, Charlie's had been an Atlanta institution for years. Chase hadn't been too surprised to see the automatic draft from Connelly's paycheck even though she might have expected the SWAT cop to exercise at some expensive fancy gym on the rich side of town and not a sweatshop like Charlie's. The gym probably had the same draw for him that it did for all the cops, Chase decided. It was convenient to downtown and they couldn't get a better deal anywhere else because the owner gave them discounts on their memberships. Cops had always worked out here. In her younger years, Chase had been one of them, but it had been a while since she had been inside the gym. When she called, Charlie had remembered her and had been more than happy to tell her when Connelly worked out. Chase wondered now if Charlie's helpful attitude had been part of Connelly's plan. The SWAT cop obviously wanted to make his stance known.

Chase pushed her way through the doors. The smell of old sweat and testosterone almost knocked her to her knees, the sound of grunts and groans following up with a hard right. Chase blinked, then narrowed her eyes, searching the various stations for the trim, blond cop.

"Looking for somebody?"

Chase turned. A young man with stiff hair and a blank look stood right behind her. Under his painted on Lycra was a body that had been sculpted into rock. Chase eyed him carefully, then her ego decided she could probably take him down. The kid had muscles, but he obviously didn't know how to use them. He looked like one of the gay male models that her ex use to drag her to watch on one of her buying sprees. "I'm supposed to meet a guy here."

The young man put his hand on his hip and shifted his attitude to a more flamboyant manner. "Does this guy have a name?"

"Yeah, he does. It's Kevin Connelly."

She couldn't have flipped a switch and gotten a more dramatic change. The blonde stepped back, his expression closing as he pointed toward the rear of the building. "He's in one of the boxing rings. Head back there and you'll find him."

Glancing in the direction he'd pointed, Chase turned back to say thank-you, but the young man was already walking away. As Chase watched, he shot an anxious look over his shoulder then increased his pace until he was practically running.

Dismissing the guy, Chase headed for the rear of the building. As she neared the three rings set up along the back wall, she easily picked out Connelly. A large crowd had gathered around the ropes to watch him box a man who looked to be at least five years younger than Connelly. Boxing wasn't the right word for what Connelly was doing. He was beating the poor kid to death and clearly enjoying it. Chase could have arrested him for assault. But she didn't.

A bell sounded and Connelly pulled back from his opponent, flinging the guy's arms off of his shoulders. Connelly had been his only support and when he withdrew, the kid crumpled to the canvas, bounced once, then lay without moving. Spitting out his mouth-piece, the SWAT cop laughed and high-fived his way around the ropes until he came to where Chase waited. There was no surprise in his eyes. In fact, confirming Chase's suspicions, Connelly actually looked pleased to see her.

Chase nodded toward the center of the ring. An employee of the gym had gotten the still groggy young fighter to his feet and was trying to get him to the corner. "I'm real impressed, Connelly. That was quite an exhibition."

Connelly raised his right hand to his mouth and tugged the laces of his gloves with his teeth. He loosened them and spoke. "What are you doing here, Davidson? I didn't think Charlie's was your kind of place?"

Chase looked around the place and back at Connelly before speaking. "It isn't. But neither is the Smoothie Shoppe and I sat there for an hour just so I could watch you and Christena Snell eat lunch across the street."

If the blond cop was surprised at Chase's directness, he hid it. "Don't you have better things to do? Maybe you and your girlfriend need to go back to the park." He smiled sweetly. "You being into women doesn't surprise me, but Rachael Stevens, now that's another story. I wonder what her TRUE BLUE family will think of that?" He gave another sweet smile and leaned against the ropes. "Besides, I would have taken you for the picky type. I would have guessed your type as the blonde, not a hair out of place, never broke a nail in her life type of look. Not young beautiful Rachael. She is beautiful, but she also has brains and chooses to use them. Let's hope they don't get her into trouble."

Connelly had seen Chase and Rachael at the park that day downtown. The revelation left Chase feeling queasy, but at least she knew they hadn't been spotted when they trailed him or he would have said something by now. "I'm not sure I know what you mean." Chase pursed her lips thoughtfully. "You wanna be more specific there?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

"Hey, I'm just an IA cop." Chase draped her hands over the bottom rope of the ring. "You have to explain certain things in detail to us or we don't get them." She paused. "You know, things like why you seem to have such a close relationship with Christena Snell. Can you explain that to me?"

"I've been comforting her. She's grief-stricken"

Chase smirked. "She doesn't seem too stricken to me. At least not with grief. Maybe pills or something stronger."

Connelly ignored the reference. "She covers up her distress well."

"And just how long have you been comforting her? Would that have started before her husband died?"

Without taking his eyes from Chase's, Connelly let his right glove drop to the canvas where it landed with a dull thud. "That wouldn't make sense, would it? For me to comfort her before she needed it?"

"Lots of things don't make sense." Chase shrugged. "Look at poor David Snell. Cut down in the prime of his life." Chase shook her head. "Just doesn't seem right and here you are, with his wife already…"

Connelly stilled. "If I were you, I'd back off and find someone else to hassle. Warnings are warnings for a reason. Next time things might not be so simple."

Amazed at the man's arrogance, Chase shook her head. "That sounds like a threat to me, Connelly. I'd hate to have to write you up for being uncooperative with an IA investigation. You know that won't look good on the nice clean report card you've got going in your file.

With a look of disgust, Connelly delivered the message he'd brought Chase to the gym to hear. "Call it whatever you want, Davidson, the facts stay the same. You better watch your back and remember who I am. Your career will go a lot smoother and so will Rachael's."

**********

By the time Rachael got away from her desk that evening, Frank Telson had already left for the day. Disappointed but determined, she drove away from headquarters and went directly to her father's house. He didn't seem as surprised to see her as he had been the previous time, but his eyes rounded all the same when he opened his door and found her on the sidewalk. "I've got to ask you something."

"Okay." He opened the door wider and she stepped inside. "You, uh, want something to drink?"

She shook her head. "I don't have time. I need to know more about the case you mentioned the other day, the frame-up you and Larry investigated."

He'd been frowning, but his face cleared. "Yeah, yeah. Far as I know, Larry's cousin never called back on that. But lemme buzz him right now and make sure."

Rachael followed him into the kitchen where the same dark brown phone hung on the same papered wall that had been there when she had been a teenager. Her father dialed his ex-partner's number by memory as she stood by and shifted impatiently from one foot to the other. When her father finally spoke, it was in shorthand like old friends do. Her father finished the cryptic conversation too quickly to have learned anything, she decided a moment later. Replacing the receiver, he shook his head and turned to her, confirming her assumption. "The kid never called back, but Larry finally remembered some of the details. It was a professional hit. The husband wanted the wife dead, but he wanted her lover to look like he'd been the trigger man so he could get rid of both of them at once. This was back in the sixties. Things weren't quite as tight as they are now. They planted some evidence in the lover-boy's car then switched what they couldn't plant. It was a big damned mess, but we finally got it straight."

Rachael tried not to show her disappointment. She had been hoping for a revelation. Or maybe a miracle. "That's it?"

He looked at her steadily then he pointed to the kitchen table. "You know more than you think you do. Sit down and talk. Tell me what you've learned."

They went over everything again, but in the end, neither one of them could come up with a new angle. "I just don't understand it. I feel like I'm missing something and if I could try just a little bit harder. I'd figure out what it is."

His best advice was for her to think about Frank Telson and the crime lab. "The lab's always the weakest link. I think something might be going on there. I'd look into that a little closer, Rachael."

Swinging her purse over her shoulder, she stood up and thanked him, then silently discounted his words. Security wasn't perfect at headquarters, but a new generation of cops ran the place now. Switching evidence and beating people up were ghosts from the past. As she started for the front door, his voice stopped her. "Rachael?"

She looked over her shoulder at him. "Yeah?"

He pushed himself up from the table and took a step toward her. His voice sounded strained. "We've had our differences in the past, but you're a damned good cop. Don't let some son of a bitch out there make it seem otherwise. You keep at this until it's resolved."

Her mouth fell open. "I…I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything." He turned back to the table, gathered up their coffee mugs and carried them to the sink. "Just go home and do what I said."

As a child, she had thought he was a giant. His back was still broad and straight enough to block the evening sunlight coming through the window above the counter. Ignoring his order to leave, she walked slowly to his side and stared at his profile. "You just called me a damned good cop?"

He turned to face her. Their eyes collided for one swift moment, then he looked away. "So what? I complimented you. What's the big deal? A father can't say something nice to his daughter once in a while?"

"You've never said anything like that before. At least not to me."

He looked at her. "I had my reasons."

"Yeah, Dad, I know you did. They're named Kenneth, Phillip and William. You didn't care what I did as long as they wore the blue."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about, Rachael."

"Then why don't you spell it out for me?" Fueled by the worry and anxiety of the past few weeks, Rachael felt her emotions take control of her mouth. "Why don't you go ahead and tell me exactly why you've never thought I had what it took to be a cop."

He turned to her, his eyes blazing. "I wanted something better for you, okay? I wanted you to have a good job, damnit! Something safe, something important. Something…clean. I didn't want you rolling around in the gutter with the drunks like I did for twenty-five years. It was never a matter of whether or not you could handle the work." He stopped and drew a deep breath. "I wanted something better for you. I wanted to…protect you."

Confusion rolled over her in a wave that almost took her under. "But I thought you said…"

He interrupted her. "I know what I said and I know what you thought."

She stared at him speechless while inside her chest, anger squeezed her heart and held it tight, bitterness and disbelief accompanying the reaction. "How could you have done this? It's…it's crazy. It's cruel and heartless and…" She broke off, her voice cracking. "Dad, why in the hell didn't you just tell me the truth?"

"Because you wouldn't have listened." His voice was blunt and when their eyes met, she was the one who looked away first. "You're exactly like your mother. Stubborn as hell. I knew I'd never change your mind if I asked, so I had to try something other than the truth."

Rachael eyes swam, but she blinked away the tears. She'd be damned if she would cry now. "So why are you telling me this now? Why, after all this time?"

"When the shit hit the fan with Snell's death, everything changed. You…needed help."

They both stood staring at each other in the silence that followed. Rachael broke the silence first. "Do you have any idea how much you've hurt me?"

"It was for your own good, Rachael. I thought you'd give up and get a good job. A decent job. I…I didn't care if you didn't love me. I just wanted you safe. Maybe it was selfish on my part."

"Selfish? I can't believe…"

He stopped her, gripping the counter with both hands, a vein throbbing in his neck as he turned to stare at her. "All right! I screwed up. I'm a terrible father! You can blame me for the rest of your life for every little problem you have, okay?"

The kitchen went quiet again until Rachael finally spoke. "I don't think I can forgive this."

"Then don't." His jaw twitched. "But know this, Rachael. You're a better cop than I ever was and ten times the officer your brothers are. Your record proves it. I know now that you'll never leave the force and you probably shouldn't. So go ahead and hate me for the rest of eternity, but whatever you do, don't let the bastard behind this take the life from you. You wouldn't let me do it. Don't let him do it, either."

**********

Snell's widow wouldn't even let Chase inside when she showed up that evening. Unwilling to push her, Chase asked her questions through the screen door and she denied everything from the other side. "I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't have lunch with Kevin Connelly and even if I had, why would you care? It's still a free country, Ms. Davidson."

Chase started to correct her, it was Lieutenant Davidson, but she had already closed the door in her face. Chase walked down the sidewalk to her car, shaking her head.

Driving on automatic, she aimed her car for the freeway. For once, traffic was light. She only wished her thoughts felt the same. The case was getting more and more complicated and she wasn't sure what to do next. Taking her exit, she drew to a stop at the red light and muttered to herself, her mind switching gears. Her intuition told her Connelly was the key, but how? And why? Was there insurance money Chase hadn't yet uncovered? Money that Connelly didn't need. Had Connelly killed Snell because of the illicit love affair with Christena? Christena Snell had asked her husband for a divorce. Had David Snell found out and been jealous? Maybe. Finally, she asked the real question that was bothering her. Am I on the right track or am I just asking these things because I falling in love with the person I'm investigating?

Only when a horn sounded behind her, did she realize the light had changed and she was talking to herself. She floored the jeep, turned left and reached her street fifteen minutes later. Her mind completely focused on her thoughts, she pulled into her driveway and parked. Rachael was waiting on her steps.

Rachael held up her hand before she could speak. "I know you don't want me here, but I need to talk to you."

After leaving her father's house, Rachael had desperately wanted to call one of her friends, but that wasn't an option so she drove to Chase's house, feeling a turmoil that went beyond anger, beyond hurt.

Chase looked as if she wanted to turn her away, but she unlocked the door, flipped on the lights and stepped aside, Rachael passing before her. Once they were inside and the door was closed, Chase opened her arms and Rachael fell into them. Chase's embrace was nothing like it had been before. This was gentle and soothing. Rachael automatically lifted her arms and wrapped them around the taller woman's neck. She just clung to her, swallowing the sting that had been building in her throat ever since she had talked to her father.

When Chase pulled away, everything rushed back. Her words spilled out as Chase led her into her living room. They sat on the sofa and she told her what had happened.

"I'm sorry, Rachael." Her expression turned fierce as she cursed. "Damn, I can't believe he would do that to you."

"I can. He's the most obstinate person I've ever known. He said I was like my mother, stubborn, but he got it wrong. He was always the one who had to have his way." She lifted her eyes to Chase's. "But it doesn't matter. I'm more tenacious than either one of them could ever dream of being."

Chase didn't smile but a light came into her eyes. She lifted her hand to Rachael's cheek and slowly stroked it with the back of her fingers. "Is that a warning?"

"I'm afraid it is." Her smile disappeared. "I saw Annette this morning and I have to tell you what she said."

Chase held up her hand. "Whatever it is, hear this first. Connelly knows about us. He's threatened to tell the brass and everyone one else. Including your family unless we back off." Chase didn't see the need to tell her that Lauren knew as well. Chase figured it was Connelly that told Lauren, but he must not have known that if Lauren rocked the boat that she would fall out too.

She processed the new information, a few more pieces of the puzzle slipping into place, her expression turning excited. "This could only mean one thing, Chase. Connelly's behind what happened…he has to be. He and Christena must have engineered David's death."

"I'm beginning to believe you. But how in the hell did they do it? And why?"

"I don't know how, but why is obvious. They were having an affair."

"That's not good enough. They could have been screwing around, sure, but why kill David? I know it's happened before, of course, but it just doesn't seem to fit right. Christena even told David she wanted a divorce. The motivation isn't strong enough."

"What I heard today might change your mind." Standing, Rachael started to pace. "Annette knows someone Connelly dated. Her friend said that Connelly got really serious really fast. She said he was frightening, he was so insistent. Maybe he fell like that for Christena, too. It's possible."

Chase rubbed her temple with her forefinger. "Can we talk to Annette's friend?"

"I've got to find her first. She's an admin assistant named Taylor Martin. I meant to look her up today and see if she's still on the payroll…"

Chase's expression shifted so drastically that Rachael fell silent, her explanation forgotten. Even Chase's eyes seemed to chill, the color switching from dark gray to cold silver. "W-what is it, Chase?"

"Are you talking about the Taylor Martin down in Records?"

Rachael nodded impatiently. "Yes. She and Annette are friends. I never met the woman but--"

"That's obvious."

"Why?"

"Because Taylor Martin is not a woman, Rachael. Taylor Martin is a man."

Rachael froze, her expression locking itself into surprise and disbelief. Finally she blinked and the motion seemed to set her free from shock. "That's impossible!"

"Call her. Call your friend." Chase pulled her cell phone from her pocket and handed it to her. "Make sure we're talking about the same Taylor Martin."

Rachael gripped the phone and dialed. The conversation was short and Chase could tell by Rachael's face, she had made no mistake. Rachael hit the end button and handed the phone back to her, an emotion too sharp to be called disappointment sweeping over her expression. "You're right." Her answer was hollow and distant. "We are talking about the same person. Taylor Martin is a man. And he dated Kevin Connelly." She walked over to Chase's sofa and sat down heavily. "Kevin Connelly is gay. I can't believe this. Jesus, we haven't just been on the wrong track, we've been on the wrong damned train."

The news did put a different spin on things, but Chase found herself focusing on the pain in Rachael's eyes instead of what they had just learned. Nothing was more important to her than erasing Rachael's hurt and suddenly she knew no matter what happened, when this case was over, so was she.

"What are we going to do? I've worked this thing from every direction possible but every time I think I'm getting somewhere, I run into another wall. I don't know what else to do, Chase."

"You don't have to do anything." She smoothed a hand over the back of Rachael's hair. "That's what I've been trying to tell you all along, Rachael. Let me do it. It's my job."

"But…"

Chase silenced her protest with her mouth, her lips gently covering the smaller woman's. Rachael responded immediately, almost hungrily and feeling her need, Chase's own desire grew. Chase told herself to pull away and turn back. If she had any chance in hell of helping her now, she needed to concentrate on the investigation itself and not Rachael. But even as she argued with herself, she knew she was past that point. Rachael had become more important to her than the investigation. And right now, she needed comfort.

Deepening the kiss, Chase let her hands drop down to Rachael's back. She slipped her hands beneath her blouse and found bare skin. Everywhere she touched, it was soft and warm.

Rachael pulled Chase's shirt from her pants, she began to unbutton it and a moment later Chase moaned as Rachael's lips pressed against her neck. Chase reached for her blouse to remove it, but Rachael shook her head. Her eyes locked on Chase's, she stood and slowly undressed herself. Then she very slowly undressed Chase. She slowly guided Chase to the bedroom.

The house was silent as Rachael held Chase's hand and walked in front of her. Inside her chest, her heart was racing so fast she actually felt dizzy. Nothing could have stopped her, though. Chase's embrace offered the only hope she had of maintaining her sanity, the only place of refuge she had left. She needed to be in Chase's arms and she wanted to be in her bed. She could make her forget.

A moment later, that's exactly where they were. She made Chase stretch out then she straddled her and starting at the top of her head, she began to kiss her, lingeringly and slowly. Her lips touched her gently in some places, roughly in others. By the time she got to her waist, Chase was trying to catch her breath. "Rachael…you have to…stop."

"Stop what, Chase?" She was whispering between nips and kisses with an innocent tone. "We're just getting started." Rachael knew Chase was fighting her need because of the investigation, but she had no intention of letting Chase get by with it this time. She slowly kissed and caressed her way back to Chase's lips.

Chase was trying to keep her eyes open, but Rachael was making that difficult. "Rachael, I don't want us to regret this." Rachael's fingertips lightly grazed over her taut nipples. "Jesus, Rachael…I can't…think. I can't talk you out of…this, if you keep doing that."

Rachael smiled down at her. "That's the point Chase. You're not going to talk me out of this." She let her fingers graze over Chase's nipples once more and smiled when Chase let out a long moan. "I'm going to talk you into it."

Chase opened her eyes and grinned. "Keep talking."

She flipped her hair to one side and leaned down to Chase's lips, teasing her with a quick tender kiss. "I plan on it." She smiled against Chase's neck as she heard the sharp intake of breath caused by her descent back down Chase's body. She positioned herself between Chase's legs, and first kissed her lower abdomen, then the inside of her legs, and slowly moved up to her goal. She did not allow her mouth to touch Chase there yet, she breathed in the scent of her. Chase raised her hips to her, but she only backed her mouth away, making her wait again. Making herself wait. Finally, her tongue reached out, and barely touched her. Again, and again, her tongue reached out, each time, touching her a little firmer. At last, she buried her face in the warmth, and wetness of Chase. Chase's hands pushed Rachael's head into herself, urging her to fulfill her. Rachael's tongue seemed to find every nerve and make it cry out for more attention. Her teeth held Chase's clit gently, and her tongue danced upon it. Chase's moans had become stifled cries of ecstasy, and her hips rose and fell with pleasure. Rachael's hand slid up the inside of her thigh, and her finger slipped inside her. She pulled the single finger out, and replaced it with two, then, added a third. In and out she plunged, and Chase moved her hips begging for more. She moved her free hand to Chase's nipple, and rolled it between her thumb and finger, then pinched it, gently. Rachael was taking Chase along that fine line between pleasure and pain, and she knew just the right steps to take. Chase's back arched until she was almost seated upright, and then it happened. The fire that she had been trying to keep under control for weeks, exploded.

Rachael kissed her way back up Chase's body, lingering at her breasts, finding her way again to her mouth. The kiss was less urgent now, more passionate. "You are absolutely perfect, Chase."

Chase was struggling with the bittersweet of the moment. She couldn't remember a time in her life that she had ever given that much. Allowing Rachael to take what she wanted. She felt wonderfully drained, but she also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she was in love with the very person she was investigating. "Ah, I'm in so much trouble."

Rachael gave Chase's lips another tender peck. "Why is that, sweetheart?"

Chase waited for Rachael to look at her before answering. "Because, I'm in love with you."

Rachael stared at her for a moment, in total shock. She was not expecting to hear the words from Chase. She slowly closed her eyes and let it wash over her. It was wonder and scary at the same time, but she couldn't afford to return it. "I…I don't know what to say. I…"

Chase put her finger over Rachael's lips to interrupt her. "You don't have to say anything. Just know that I do love you. Now, come here." Rachael happily went into Chase's arms and paid for every nip and gentle kiss she had given Chase's body with building agony. Chase's mouth and fingers teasing her to no end. When she thought the end was near, Chase would begin again.

**********

Rachael woke in the middle of the night. Chase lay beside her, her hand twisted in Rachael's hair. She gently untangled her fingers, then she slipped out to the bed, but she didn't walk away. She stood by the edge and stared down at the woman who had become so important to her. She wasn't sure how it had happened, but Chase had turned into someone she needed. The idea scared her. She had never needed anyone but herself before this.

Padding naked into the living room, Rachael picked up the first piece of clothing she found, Chase's shirt. Thrusting her arms through the sleeves, she rolled them up and wandered into the kitchen, her footsteps as random as her thoughts. She filled a glass with water, drank it, then returned to the living room. If Christena and Kevin Connelly weren't having an affair, then what was going on between the two of them? Rachael considered the possibility that Connelly could have been bisexual, but she immediately dismissed the idea. Thinking back to the embrace she had witnessed between Christena and Connelly, Rachael realized something about it had bothered her at the time, but she had put the notion aside and forgotten about it. Now she remembered and understood. Their actions had held no passion. Connelly was gay. And he was using Christena's vulnerability to his advantage. The connection between Christena and Connelly was still there, but it wasn't configured the way Rachael had thought. She found herself standing in front of Chase's television cabinet. Her fingers reached out and she opened the double doors. The tape was right where it had been when she had seen it the first time. She caught her breath. Did she really want to put herself through the torture of seeing it again? She had to, she decided after a moment. If there was even the slightest chance she could learn something from viewing the tape one more time, she owed it to herself and to Chase to try. She punched it into the slot and turned on the set. The recording picked up a few minutes past where it had been when Chase had switched it off. The now familiar scene of the Happy Hour's parking lot flashed onto the screen, the tarmac full of people and cars. Rachael put her hand to her chest as the tape played and she spotted herself sitting on the curb. One medic was kneeling at her side while another one rummaged through a kit nearby. Recalling the moment as if she were still there, her pulse raced painfully.

She remembered exactly what she had been thinking as the man had cleaned up her wound. She was staring at a bullet casing that had landed by the curb. Even in her shock, she had noted its placement, thinking she had to remember to tell the techs about it later. The metal jacket was barely visible in the frame. She was absent from the next shot. After that, she watched a variety of officers and crime-scene attendants going over the area. Bobby Palmer, the lieutenant in charge, dominated the next few pictures. She glanced at the time recording and saw Chase come into focus a little more than an hour after the shooting. She talked to the homicide investigator for a bit, then the frame switched again. The random snapshots that followed didn't amount to much. Nothing but cops and techs swarmed in and out of the picture. Punching the rewind button, Rachael stared numbly as the awful sequences played in reverse the surreal images flying by, the cops, techs, her figure by the curb, the meds arriving. When she realized the tape had reached the point where she would see David's body again, she seemed to wake up. Her hand shot out to the recorder but, at the last minute, she paused, an officer in black suddenly catching her eye. He wore the clothing of a SWAT team member and looking closer, she recognized the blond hair and striking features of Kevin Connelly. Her curiosity aroused, she hit the play button and backed up the tape a bit more, checking the timer as she did so. A tech walked by, then ten minutes later, Connelly passed the curb. In several subsequent frames, Connelly was in some but absent from others. Rachael let the video continue until she finally saw her image sitting on the sidewalk again. Her face wore such a stunned expression she wasn't sure she would have recognized herself if she hadn't remembered the moment with such clarity. The recollection set something in motion inside her brain. She tried to catch the random flash but the task proved harder than she would have imagined, the thought too elusive to snag. She told herself to concentrate, then as she did, her abstraction turned into confusion. She rewound the tape until the tech and then Connelly came back into focus. She played the images again, this time in slow motion, her eyes going to the ground instead of to the men themselves. Her pulse stuttered and her body went cold. She had to be mistaken. Once again, she fast forwarded to the frame that showed her sitting on the curb. She froze the segment, her nose practically against the television set. Placing her fingers against the screen, Rachael held her breath and stared, her mouth open in shock.

Suddenly Chase spoke from behind her. "We were wrong about Christena." Rachael turned slowly as Chase continued. "But we were right about Connelly."

She walked across the room and took Rachael's hands. She had on a pair of baggy drawstring pants and a sports bra and when she squeezed her fingers, Rachael hardly felt her touch. "I started thinking about something when I woke up. So I went and checked my files. Gay or straight, I think Connelly killed David Snell and set you up for it. And I just figured out why."

Rachael looked at the screen again before speaking. "That's good because I think I just figured out how."

Chase's eyes went wide, then darkened. "You first."

Rachael pointed to the television set. "Come watch." She played the segment of the tape showing the tech and then Connelly. Then she went to the frame where she sat on the curb. Chase stared and shook her head when Rachael stopped the recorder. "Look again," Rachael instructed. "Look for what isn't there."

She replayed the tape and pointed to the curb as the tech walked by. Then Connelly came and went. Finally, when Rachael's image showed up, she pointed to the curb again. "There's a casing by my foot," she said quietly. "It wasn't there when the tech walked by the first time or he would have stopped and marked it or even bagged it. No one walks by that spot again except Connelly." She turned her eyes to Chase. "But the casing was there when I sat down later. I remember seeing it."

At her words, Chase blinked, a stunned look coming over her face. She didn't need to ask if she understood. It was clear by her face that she did. "I told you I had thirteen rounds in my weapon and that I shot seven times, but you said eight casings were found." She tapped the glass screen and it made a hollow sound. "That's why. Right there is where the eighth casing came from. Connelly planted it."

"What about the round missing from your pistol?"

She clenched her jaw. "I'd risk next year's salary that Frank Telson got rid of it after I turned my gun in to the lab for testing."

"Why would the supervisor of the crime lab do something like that?"

"I don't know, but he and Connelly are connected." She explained seeing the two men together at the range.

"And the slug that killed David?"

"I can't explain that either," she admitted. "But I know I didn't kill him. Either ballistics screwed up the match, which is doubtful, or the slug the coroner recovered wasn't the same slug that ballistics got to test and compare."

"You think it could have been switched?"

"It's an option. My dad and I talked earlier about one of his old cases where something similar happened and it made me wonder. Things aren't as tight in the lab as they're made out to be and Frank Telson has to be part of the problem. It's a wild-eyed guess, but I'd say Connelly's either paying him off or blackmailing him."

"That would fit. Especially when you combine it with the information I went to check on. I had the rap sheet for Sanchez, the second shooter, in my files. I wanted to make sure before I said anything to you, but I was right."

"About what?"

"Sanchez and his buddy were picked up in a SWAT team operation a few months ago, but they were released with charges. Connelly was the officer in charge. He let them go."

"Why?"

"I think he was already planning something and needed them. In his eyes, they were disposable. He knew whatever happened to them later wouldn't matter."

The image of the two men stumbling out of the club sent something skitter up her back. Then she remembered. "They weren't really drunk. I wondered about it at the time, then I forgot." Rachael's stomach turned at the thought. "He knew I'd shoot them."

"Sure, he did. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he gave them the guns they used with blanks. The techs never found any slugs that night but yours."

"Why?" Her voice cracked. "Why would he do this?"

"It all comes down to motivation. Every time. I've been going crazy trying to figure out how Connelly and Christena would profit from David's death, then I realized where I'd gone wrong when we learned he's gay. I've been looking at things from the wrong end of the binoculars. I shouldn't have concentrated what Connelly stood to gain. I should have concentrated on what Connelly had to lose." Chase paused. "The man is set to receive a fortune. What if the elder members of his oh-so-perfect family aren't as open-minded as the rest of us? What if he won't get his inheritance if the truth came out about him being gay? Maybe Christena is his cover."

"But what does any of that have to do with David?"

"Maybe Snell knew. Could he have been blackmailing Connelly?"

"That doesn't sound like the David I knew." Rachael hesitated. "Then again, David wasn't himself those last few weeks. I guess anything's possible."

"I'm not sure, either, but with that tape." Chase nodded toward the VCR. "And a good judge, we've got enough for a search warrant."

Rachael turned to Chase and moved a step closer, wrapping her arms around her waist. "You finally believe I'm innocent, don't you?"

"I thought you were all along. But thinking alone won't get you too far in this job. I had to have evidence, Rachael, and you know that."

Chase lifted her chin with her fingers and then leaned down to kiss her. For a second, Rachael's lips trembled beneath hers, then she gathered herself and kissed her back, her arms holding Chase tight. Chase wanted to pull her back into the bedroom and make them both forget the reasons they had come together, but she couldn't do that. Not now. Maybe when this was over, they could have some kind of future, but what that was, she had no idea. Regardless, she allowed herself a few minutes to fantasize along those lines, then she gently untangled Rachael's arms from her waist. "We have to get to headquarters. I want to put an APB out on Connelly and get the warrant going."

They were almost to the front door when Chase stopped abruptly. "Damn. I've got to get my briefcase. It's in the study. Give me a second."

"I'll wait in the car." Rachael tilted her head toward the street. "Don't take too long."

Chase nodded and started toward the back of the house as Rachael opened the front door and went outside. The sticky night air was hot and expectant and a lingering heaviness in it felt ominous. Rachael scoffed at the idea as soon as it entered her mind, but after the day she'd had, who could blame her? She took two steps and tried to clear her mind. Without warning, a hand clamped over her mouth and a gun dug into her ribs. The voice in her ear was harsh but familiar. Fear rolled through her as Kevin Connelly spoke. "Pull your weapon from its holster and hand it to me, barrel first."

She did exactly as he ordered and she felt his movements as he took her Glock and put it in his waistband. "Good. Now don't do anything but reverse your steps. If you try to scream, I'll shoot her before she clears the door."

Her heart pounded.

"Do you understand me?" His breath smelled like peppermints.

She nodded.

"All right. We're walking to the door as if you forgot something, then we're going inside." He forced her backward, a shadow on the porch no one could have seen even if they looked. "Open the door, slowly."

Her nervous fingers slipped against the round brass knob then she gripped it. She turned it and the door gave way. Connelly waited a second longer, then they pushed inside together. Chase hadn't had time to return and for a split second, Rachael thought she might have a chance. Her eyes darted frantically around the entry as she looked for something she could kick over or knock down. All she saw was Connelly's steady stare as it met hers in the wall mirror. "Don't even think about it," he whispered. "You know what kind of shot I am. She wouldn't have a chance."

Rachael nodded again and he dragged her into the living room. Before leaving the room, Chase had switched off the lights and only the blue glow of the blank television screen remained. The color painted the furniture and walls with an underwater tint. Connelly laid Rachael's gun on a table beside the wall then suddenly jerked her to him. Against her back, he tensed, tightening his arm around her neck. "Not a word," he breathed.

A second later, she heard Chase walking toward the front door. She opened it and stepped outside. The lock turned and her footsteps rang out as she headed toward the street, the sound fading after a moment. "She's going to come back when she doesn't find me."

"That's all right. By then you'll be dead." Connelly looked toward the door. "And she'll be next."

Carefully searching left and right, Chase paused on the sidewalk, then headed for her car. She unlocked the driver's side and climbed inside, then turned around once more and craned her neck, eyeing the sidewalk and the street behind her as if looking for Rachael. When the map light went out, she reached up and switched the lamp all the way off, her heart pounding so loud in the silence she imagined the neighbors could hear it. Chase had installed a burglar alarm a few years back when a cop she had investigated had gotten upset over an unfavorable report and threatened to come to her house and do some serious bodily harm. Since then she had managed to piss off her share of cops. Whenever a door or a window opened, whether the system was armed or not, a light blinked on a panel in her bedroom. After going to her study, she had seen the red dot pulsing. She had started to call out for Rachael then she had decided against it. She had a security camera hidden on the front porch and a real time monitor, too. Her legs had turned to water as she stared at the flickering screen. Climbing to the other side of the vehicle, Chase opened the door and slid out. She had two, maybe three minutes, certainly no more than five. Using the cover of Rachael's Toyota, she eased another fifteen feet. Just behind the Camry, her neighbor had parked his camper and for once Chase was grateful. She sprinted the length of the camper, then dashed between the houses to the street south of her own. Snaking through the darkened alleys, she doubled around until she came to her own backyard. Climbing the cedar fence, she approached the rear of the house in silence, her hand on her weapon. Within a minute, she stood beside the window in her living room. Taking a deep breath, she eased her body beneath the brick ledge then slowly raised her head to look inside. What she saw turned her blood to ice.

**********

"I don't know what you think you're doing, Connelly, but whatever it is, you aren't going to succeed."

Forcing her into a nearby chair, Connelly pushed Rachael down as she spoke. He held both of her hands behind her back and gave them a painful yank. "Shut up. I don't need your commentary. Especially since it's wrong." She heard the distinctive snick of the handcuffs. Connelly tightened them more than was necessary and the hard edges bit into the skin around her wrists. He came back around and faced her. "You and your IA bitch have been so wrong all along it's almost laughable, I'm not worried."

"You should be." She spoke with an assurance she didn't feel. "We know Frank Telson's been working with you and we know that you killed the second shooter."

He turned his blue eyes on her.

"We also know your affair with Christena Snell isn't real."

He blinked this time but recovered quickly. "That leaves quite a bit you don't know, doesn't it?"

"The rest doesn't matter. We've got enough to send you up. I've heard that they love ex-cops in prison."

The threat of prison didn't appear to faze him. "You and your new friend aren't going to send me anywhere because I'm sending both of you to hell first." He shook his head in a parody of dejection. "A Murder-suicide…so …sad. Often happens with burned-out cops. Guess you just couldn't take the pressure."

Rachael's dry mouth made it hard to talk, but she persisted. Once Chase came through that door--and she would any moment--she was dead. "I think you're the one who couldn't take the pressure. I just don't understand what David had to do with any of it. He was a damned good cop and you killed him. Why?"

Connelly's expression morphed slowly from puzzlement to wonder to bitterness as he stared at her in the blue light. He cursed softly, then shook his head. "You didn't know, did you? He told me that you knew, but he lied about that, too. I can't believe this. And I trusted him." He cursed again, but his expression didn't match his words. Not anger or rancor crossed his face, only something that looked surprisingly like regret.

His reaction made no sense; then something seemed to unwind inside Rachael. She held her breath, then expelled it slowly, the whole picture coming together for the first time since David had died. His attitude toward her, his words that night, Christena's actions…no wonder she'd gone nuts over Chase's questions about 'an affair' in the family. She hadn't been the one cheating. Christena had never been Kevin Connelly's lover. David had. She should have been more shocked, but Rachael had gone past the point. "You didn't have to kill him," she said sadly.

"Yes, I did." Connelly's face hardened. "He wouldn't leave Christena. I couldn't let her have him."

"That's crazy."

"Yes. It probably is, but that's how love works sometimes."

**********

Holding her weapon against her chest, Chase stood in the darkness of the dining room and listened. When she had looked through the window and had seen Rachael tied up, cold determination had replaced her earlier concern. She had thought Connelly was smarter than this, but obviously his desperation was too big to contain. Staying as close as possible to the wall, Chase crept toward the living room. She waited only a split second, then she swung around the corner and extended her weapon. "Drop the gun and move away," she said loudly. "Do it right now, Connelly, or I swear, I'll shoot you."

Rachael's heart flew into her throat. She had been praying Chase would simply leave when she couldn't find her, but deep down, she had known she'd return. Thank goodness, she had somehow realized what was going on and Connelly hadn't been able to surprise her.

After a momentary start, Connelly answered Chase's threat. "I'm not dropping anything, Davidson. I think you've been watching too many cop mini-series on television. I'm going to kill her and then I'm going to kill you and after that, I'm going to have a drink and celebrate."

"I've called for backup," Chase said in a calm voice. "Your SWAT buddies are going to be surrounding the house any minute. Let's not make this situation any crazier than it already is."

"You're the one who got us here. If you'd left everything alone, the situation wouldn't have developed."

"I'm not paid to leave things alone, Connelly. I'm paid to find out the truth." Chase's eyes flickered to Rachael's. "Are you all right?"

Connelly answered for Rachael. "She's fine, But she won't be for long and neither will you."

Taking a step to her right, Chase ignored the threat. "You won't get away with this."

"Yes, I will. Have you forgotten that my last name is Connelly? It's a name that goes a long way here in Atlanta, Davidson. There might be a little stink at first, but the press will quickly forget. Money makes bad things go away."

Chase moved another small step. "How much of that money is gonna be yours when your family finds out about your lifestyle?"

"They aren't going to find out," he said confidently. "I've got a girlfriend, remember? We're quite close."

Rachael closed her eyes and held back a groan. Poor Christena. First David, now this. Thinking she'd been the one to keep David from him, Connelly had obviously set out to destroy her.

Chase moved another step to her right. "I somehow doubt that relationship will last. Once she finds out you engineered her husband's death, Christena Snell won't be too pleased."

"I didn't engineer shit. I killed David with a single shot from fifty yards away." He looked down at Rachael. "I forgot to warn Sanchez and his buddy how good a shooter you are, not that it mattered since I provided them with the guns…and the blanks. I apologized when I visited him the other night at the hospital. I let him know I was sorry his print card got lost, too."

"And ballistics?" Chase asked.

"Frank hasn't been very discreet with a small problem he's got. He likes little children. I offered to see that he gets help with his situation, but he declined and in return for my silence, he substituted the slug from David's body with one I provided. Ballistics analyzed the one they were given. Unfortunately for Rachael, the one they analyzed came from her gun."

He was proud of what he'd managed to do and eager to brag. So eager, Rachael finally realized, he hadn't noticed how close Chase had gotten to the two of them.

Chase tensed. She was ten feet away, maybe less, from the chair where Rachael was tied. She could leap that far and fall on top of her, but she'd have to shoot Connelly in midair. Rachael could make that shot, but Chase wasn't positive she could. It was a risk she didn't want to take with Rachael's life in the balance. Chase weighed her choices as Connelly continued to talk, then it hit her. The SWAT cop didn't own all the odds. They had something to negotiate with, too. "You planned the whole thing quite well, Connelly. I'll give you that." Chase sent a steady look to Rachael then turned her eyes back to Connelly. "You skipped one detail, though. Unfortunately, for you," she said mockingly, "we have proof of what you did. There was a security cam in the parking lot. It recorded everything."

A look of alarm crossed Connelly's face then it cleared immediately. "I was too far away when I shot. Don't even try…"

"I'm not talking about the shooting. I'm talking about the fake evidence you planted."

"You're bullshitting me."

"There's a copy in the VCR right behind you. Go ahead and watch it."

Connelly's gaze flicked toward the television. The blue light was steady and the color matched his eyes. "We were looking at it right before you got here. That's why the TV's on." Chase motioned with her gun. "Go ahead. Be my guest."

"You turn it on," Connelly ordered.

"I'd be happy to, but first you're going to untie Rachael and let her go. If you don't, you'll never find out where the original tape is."

For the first time, he seemed to hesitate. Chase pressed her case. "Believe me, Connelly, it will be found. And you will be caught. Unless you cut her loose."

"Then what?"

""We'll decide that together. It'll depend on you," Chase promised.

"How do I know you won't screw me?"

Chase smiled unpleasantly. "How do you think I've managed to survive this long in IA, Connelly? Where do you think the Porsche came from? The clothes? The house…" Chase shook her head. "Look at it like this, you've got extra income from your family and so do I. APD's just one big happy family, right? Most of the cops I've investigated have been more than happy to help me…when I've helped them."

Believing Chase was dirty was easy for Connelly since that was the side he walked on. He thought a moment longer, then he reached inside his pocket, pulled out the key to the cuffs and tossed it to the floor at Rachael's feet. "Pick it up and release her cuffs." He pointed the gun at Rachael's head. "You do anything but move your butt to the sofa, and Davidson is dead. You understand?"

Rachael nodded, her eyes dark as she turned to Chase. Kneeling at her feet, Chase picked up the key then moved behind her chair, her weapon on Connelly the whole time. When Chase glanced down to look for the key hole, Rachael whispered urgently. "Drop your gun and dive right. I'll grab it and go left."

Rachael went one way and Chase went the other. Connelly screamed a curse and fired a split second later, but Rachael shot back. He grabbed his shoulder and cried out, tumbling to the carpet, his gun hitting the floor first and bouncing to one side. Rachael launched herself to where the gun landed and covered it with her body. Wrapping her finger around the grip, she scooted backward and aimed at the same time, a weapon in each hand.

Connelly lay motionless, Rachael jumped to her feet and called to Chase without looking. "Are you okay?"

Chase didn't answer.

She chanced a look and wished she hadn't. Chase was slumped against a chair, one side of her face covered in blood, her hands lying limply at her sides, her legs splayed out before her. Rachael's knees buckled, then she pulled herself together. Swinging her pistol back to Connelly, she stumbled to where Chase rested. Her heart should have been pounding, but it wasn't doing a thing. Instead, adrenaline and pure fear keeping her going. Just as she'd done to her dying partner, Rachael bent down and jabbed her fingers into Chase's neck.

Chase opened her eyes.

But as raw relief swamped Rachael, Chase yelled and wrenched her weapon from Rachael, pushing her down to the carpet at the same time. Rachael did a face plant, the rug burning her lower jaw as something whizzed by, inches above her head. She looked up to see Connelly clutching her gun, which he'd laid on the table coming in. He only managed the one shot

Chase continued to fire until the magazine was empty.

**********

Rachael and Chase were still on the floor when the front door flew open. Four men in black with a battering ram charged inside, then three men with automatic weapons followed; as instructed, Chase and Rachael threw their up their hands and stayed where they were.

Four of the SWAT cops dispersed inside the house and checked it room by room while one ran to Connelly and a second to Rachael and Chase. The last man, clearly the team leader, stood by the front door. The officer checking Connelly looked up and shook his head once, then the other four returned with an 'All clear.' The leader walked to where Chase and Rachael sat.

"We checked through the windows with a camera" he said almost apologetically, "but we had to make sure it was safe." He threw a look over his shoulder. "Get your kit, Rogers, and check these officers for injuries. Ryans, call for a wagon. Peterson, give Communications a heads up."

Chase watched the team follow orders as quickly and efficiently as she and Rachael had when they'd heard "Hands up." As the officer continued to organize things, however, Chase let her head slump to the chair at her back, the last of her adrenaline seeping away, weary disbelief replacing it. Her eyes met Rachael's. "Are you really okay?"

"I'm fine. But how did you know to come back inside? I was so afraid you were going to come through the front door. That was his plan. He was going to shoot you then."

Chase explained the burglar alarm and camera then winced as the medical officer began to clean her wound.

"I know it hurts." The SWAT cop looked at Chase with sympathy in his eyes. "But it's a superficial wound. I don't think you even need stitches. You're gonna have a whopper of a headache tomorrow, though." He smoothed a bandage onto her temple then stood and motioned to Rachael. "Let me take a look at you now."

When the man finished and declared her fine, Rachael thanked him and returned to Chase. She blinked several times before she could speak. "You risked your life coming back in here like that. I…"

Chase raised her hand and even though it was bloodstained, she laid a finger across her lips. "I did the same thing you would have done in my place."

Rachael's voice was serious, but a light shone in her eyes Chase had never seen before. "You would make someone a damned good partner. How come I never knew what a good shooter you are?"

Chase shook her head then groaned at the movement. "It wasn't important until now."

"What other skills are you hiding?"

"Too many to name and a few you don't even want to know about."

Rachael cradled her jaw in her hand, then leaned over and gently kissed her. "I want to know about all of them. There aren't going to be any more secrets between the two of us. It's my turn to investigate you and I'm gonna take the rest of my life to do it. I love you, Chase."


********** Six Months Later

Sunshine poured through the window and coated the breakfast table with light. At Chase's end, the place mats were covered with a pile of books and notepads. Concentrating to the exclusion of everything else, she was bent over a journal with a yellow Hi-Liter in her hand.

At Rachael's end, a single cup of coffee cooled, a squiggle of steam rising above it. She rustled the newsletter she held, folded it then laid it down with a sigh.

Chase looked up. No more able to resist her now, six months later, than she had been able to the day they met, she stood and came to her side. Crouching down so she could look into her eyes, she put her arms around her, then leaned over and kissed her. "What's wrong?"

"I hate that you're always right."

Chase shrugged and pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know it's a terrible fault, but I can't seem to help myself." Nuzzling her neck, she kissed her again, then leaned back. "What did I do this time?"

Rachael tapped the paper. "Page four. APD News. Have you read it?"

She opened her eyes in mock surprise. "Have I read it? Why on earth would I want to read that rag? I'm a member of the professorial elite now." She raised her voice and spoke in singsong. "I'm a college profess-or. I don't have to keep up with the pedestrian goings-on at APD."

"Still you might want to check out the article." Rachael looked out the window then back at Chase. "You predicted it would be there."

Puzzled, Chase flipped to the page she'd indicated. "What happens if I say I told you so?"

Rachael took Chase's face in both hands and kissed her passionately. When Chase opened her eyes they were half lidded and Rachael knew she had the desired affect she was looking for. "Do you want to continue to enjoy me like this?"

Chase lowered herself to the floor. "You know I do."

Rachael used her forefinger to give Chase the come here gesture. When Chase's lips was about to kiss her, Rachael whispered, "Then you will never say I told you so."


The End

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