"We'll see," she said.

She fired her five and they followed Dick down to the targets. He shook his head. "Jesus. You guys…"

He took five minutes to count, then glanced at Lily. "I think he's got you, Lily, Lieutenant. Either one point or two…"

"Let me see that…"

Lily went over the targets, counting, her lips moving as she totaled them up. "I don't believe it," she grunted. "I shoot two of the worst rounds of my fuckin' career and you take me out by a point."

Lucas was grinning. "I'll collect tonight," he said.

She peered at him for a second, then said, "Double or nothing. One round, five shots."

Lucas thought about it. "I'm happy where I'm at."

"Yeah, maybe, but the question is, Are you greedy enough to go for more? And do you have the balls for it?" Lily said.

"I'm happy," he repeated.

"Think how happy you'll be if you win."

Lucas looked at her for a moment, then said, "One shot. Just one. Double or nothing."

"You're on," she said. "You shoot first."

Dick sent down a new target sheet. When he was out of the way, Lucas lined up in a one-handed bull's-eye-shooter's stance, brought the P7 up once, lowered it, scratched his forehead, brought the gun up again, let out half a breath and fired.

"That's a good one," he said to her.

"I thought you shot practical."

"Most of the time," he said. Then he added, innocently, "But I was really better at bull's-eye."

She took her two-handed stance and squeezed off the shot. "A hair to the left."

"I win, then."

"We ought to look." They looked. Lucas' shot wiped out the 10 ring. Lily's shot counted nine. "God damn it," she said.

Outside the precinct station, it was already getting dark. They turned a corner into the parking lot and were alone for a moment.

"Well," she said.

He took in her big dark eyes and the heavy breasts beneath her tweed jacket, looked down at her and shook his head. "Later."

"God damn it, Davenport…" But Lucas was already popping open the door to the car. They were back at the surveillance post in fifteen minutes, Lily stewing.

"Anything?" Lucas asked, as they stepped into the surveillance room. The FBI man's camp stool had disappeared.

"Quiet as death," said one of the cops. Del was still asleep. "Who won?"

"He did," Lily said grimly. "Two points out of a hundred and fifty."

"All right," said the heavier of the two cops. He held out his hand and the other cop gave him a dollar.

"A whole fuckin' dollar?" Lucas said. "I'm impressed."

The street was absolutely empty. At times it seemed as though an hour passed between cars. Sloan stopped by, watched an hour and finally said, "Why don't you get a portable and come down to King's Place. My wife is gonna meet me there. It's about two minutes away."

"What is it?" Lily asked.

"Tex-Mex cowboy-lumberjack bar down on Hennepin. They don't allow fights, they've got a band and terrific tacos, three for a dollar," Sloan said.

"Food," said Lily.

Lily expected Lucas to collect at the car, in the dark, but he walked around her again.

"Jesus, you're an asshole sometimes," she said.

"You're so impatient," he said. "Why can't you relax?"

"I want to pay off and be done."

"We got plenty of time," he said. "We got all night."

"In a pig's eye we got all night," she said.

The bar had thirty-pound muskies and deer heads on the wall, a stuffed black bear in the entrance and a wooden cactus in the middle of a room full of picnic tables. A three-piece Mexican rock band banged away in a corner, and pitchers of Schmidt beer went for two dollars.

Sloan got things rolling by ordering a round of pitchers, which only Lily thought was excessive. The band came on with a south-of-the-border version of "Little Deuce Coupe."

"Let's dance," Lucas said, pulling Lily away from her tacos and pitcher. "Come on, they're playing rock V roll." Lucas danced with Lily and then with the wife of a local cowboy while the cowboy danced with Lily. Then Lily danced with Sloan, and Lucas with a tall single woman whose beehive hairdo had just begun to topple, while Sloan's wife danced with the cowboy. Then they did it again. Lily was giggling when she finally got back to the table. Lucas waved at the waitress and pointed at Lily's pitcher.

" 'Nother round, all the way," Lucas called.

"You're trying to get me drunk, Davenport," Lily said. Her voice was clear, but her eyes were moving too much. "It'll probably work."

Sloan laughed immoderately and started on the second round.

At midnight, they checked the surveillance room. Nothing. Both of Hood's roommates were home. The lights were out. At one o'clock, they checked again. Nothing.

"So what do you want to do?" Lucas asked when King's closed.

"I dunno. I guess you better take me back to the hotel. I doubt he'd be driving this late."

Lucas pulled the Porsche into the hotel parking lot and hopped out.

"Time to collect?" Lily asked.

"Yeah."

A half-dozen people were walking through the lot, and more were going in and out.

"This is not an invitation, so I don't want you to read anything into it…"

"Yeah?"

"You can come up for just long enough to collect."

They rode up in the elevator without speaking and walked down the hall to her room, Lucas feeling increasingly awkward. Inside, when she closed the door, it was dark. Lucas fumbled for the light switch but she caught his hand and said, "Don't. Just collect and then you can leave."

"All of a sudden, I feel like a fuckin' idiot," Lucas said, abashed.

"Let's get it over with," she said, a little drunkenly.

He found her in the dark, pulled her in and kissed her. She hung in his arms for just a fraction of a moment, then returned the kiss, powerfully, pushing him against the door, her face and pelvis pressed to his, her hands clenching his rib cage. They clung together for a long moment; then she broke her lips away and squeezed him tighter and groaned, "Oh, Jesus."

Lucas held her for a moment and then whispered in her ear, "Double or nothing," and found her lips again and they walked in a tight little circle and Lucas felt the bed hit the back of his knees and he dropped on it, pulling her with him. He expected her to resist, but she did not. She rolled to one side and held him, kissing him again on the lips, then on the edge of the jaw, and Lucas rolled over half on top of her and pulled at her shirt, getting it out of her trousers, slipping his hand inside, fighting the brassiere, finally reaching around her, unsnapping the bra and then catching one of her breasts in his hand…

"Oh, God," she said, arching against him. "God, Davenport…"

He found her belt, pulled it open, slipped his hand inside her trousers, under the edge of her underpants, down, to the hot liquid center…

"Ah, Jesus," she said, and she rolled away from him, pushing his hand away, off the side of the bed onto the floor.

"What?" It was pitch black in the room, and Lucas was groggy from the sudden struggle. "Lily…"

"God, Lucas, we can't… I'm sorry, I don't mean to tease. Jesus, I'm sorry."

"Lily…"

"Lucas, you're going to make me cry, go away…"

"Jesus, don't do that." Lucas stood up, pushed his shirt back in his pants, discovered he was missing a shoe. He groped in the dark for a second, found the light. Lily was sitting on the floor on the far side of the bed, clutching her shirt around her.

"I'm sorry," she said. Her eyes were black with remorse. "I just can't."

"That's okay," Lucas said, trying to catch his breath. He half laughed. "My fuckin' shoe is missing…"

Lily, her face drawn, looked around the edge of the bed and said, "Under the curtain. Behind you."

"Okay. Got it."

"I'm sorry."

"Look, Lily, whatever is right, okay? I mean, I'm going back home to blow my brains out, to relieve the pressure, but don't worry about it."