“Yes,” she admitted.

“Of course. You would’ve been justified, too. Especially after he shot at us, right? But I knew he could take me right to Slice. When I got back to Benson’s estate, I parked down the road and got the jump on him. Wasn’t too hard. He was right inside Benson’s house, talking on his cell phone and eating some Doritos. I had him in cuffs in about ten seconds. I got him to open the trap for me as a showing of good faith, and I sent him back out there. I knew you wouldn’t approve, so I kept it to myself. But, look, he came through with flying colors. He called in the marines when it counted. He saved your life.”

“Him? What did he do? I’m the one who beeped you!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I got your beep. It confirmed Bigga’s information for me, but I already knew. Good thing, too, because that extra time was critical. Bigga called me, and I was at fucking IAD with Randall. I had to get here, call for backup, set up on the place. I’m telling you, you owe him big-time.”

“No kidding. All in the guise of going out for Chinese food.”

Dan laughed sheepishly. “Actually, Bigga did grab some Chinese before he made the call. He had it with him when we picked him up. Hope it was enough to last him for a while. He’s sitting outside in a blue-and-white, cuffed up all nice for you, looking for a little time off his sentence for cooperation.”

“Wow. Maybe I should go shake his hand.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said with a laugh as the paramedics arrived to take care of Sophie.

MELANIE EMERGED INTO THE TWILIGHT AND breathed deeply. The air after the rainstorm tasted as sharp and clean as ice water. Patrol cars and ambulances were parked in front of the town house, their flashing lights reflected in the slick black pavement. Home was only a few blocks away, but she had unfinished business here first.

Knowing she needed to give a detailed statement, Melanie headed for the cluster of conferring officers standing by the patrol cars. She glimpsed Rommie handcuffed in the back of one, Bigga in another. As she approached, though, the sea of uniforms parted and Bernadette emerged, dressed in tight jeans, stiletto-heeled boots and blazer. She hurried toward Melanie, arms outstretched.

“Melanie, thank God!” Bernadette yelped, embracing her. “I was so worried about you! Once I stopped being angry, that is, since of course you’re no longer assigned to the Benson case and I don’t know what you thought you were up to.”

“How did you get here?” Melanie asked, immediately extricating herself from Bernadette’s grasp.

“Your husband called me. He was in a panic. He wanted to come find you himself, but I refused to give him the exact address. We don’t need civilians interfering. But he obviously adores you, Melanie. He was practically hysterical,” she said.

Melanie stared at her boss with frosty eyes. Bernadette was not blameless in this fiasco. Her carelessness had allowed Rommie to get to Melanie’s witnesses. Her continuing skepticism, even after Melanie told her of the fingerprint report, had perpetuated the whole conspiracy. If Bernadette had listened sooner, some innocent people might still be alive and the whole ordeal tonight could’ve been avoided.

Bernadette saw Melanie’s stony expression and wilted. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, girlfriend, but please. You have to believe I didn’t know.”

Melanie glared at her. “I believe you didn’t know. But you should have known. After what I’ve been through tonight, don’t expect me to let you off the hook.”

“I know, I heard all about it. I cannot believe you personally shot Slice! Very impressive. I mean, that guy was a serious player. And look at it this way: If you’d caught Slice and taken him to trial, you would have asked for the death penalty, right? Same result, but you saved yourself years of appeals.”

“Bernadette, this is not a joke.”

“Okay, fine. I see you’re angry. What do you want me to say? That you were right?” Bernadette asked.

“Yes! It would be a start.”

Bernadette tossed her head irritably. “Fine, then. It turns out you were right, and I commend you for astute investigative work. But you have to admit, from where I stood, your theory looked pretty implausible before tonight. I was entitled to trust Romulado, after all. I’m not speaking about our personal relationship, but about his fifteen years’ service.”

“Oh, come on, I pointed out all the warning signs,” Melanie said. “I even told you about the fingerprint report, and you discounted it.”

“In the glare of hindsight, I admit, I made a few errors in judgment. Maybe I didn’t take you seriously enough. Romulado accused you of blind ambition, and there was sufficient truth to it that I let him convince me. I was wrong. You deserved more credit than that. Okay? Satisfied now?”

The stricken expression lying just beneath Bernadette’s bravado took away any pleasure Melanie might have felt in her victory. Ramirez’s treachery was a personal tragedy for Bernadette on a magnitude Melanie hated to think about. Besides, who was she to lecture anyway? Maybe Rommie’s lie was bigger, but Melanie had trusted Steve and been proved wrong. She’d also failed to trust Dan when she should have. Her judgment of men’s character was hardly foolproof.

“Thank you for admitting you were wrong, Bern,” Melanie said, softening. “And now that you explain it, I understand why you trusted Rommie over me. When someone you’re close to lies to your face, it’s natural to believe him.”

“People can fool you, Melanie. That’s one hard lesson I’ve learned in life. You never really know another person the way you think you do.” Bernadette looked wistfully in the direction of the police cruiser where Rommie sat.

“I’m sorry for you, Bern.”

Bernadette drew herself up straighter. “No need to feel sorry for me, hon. I’ll be fine. Anyway, look, I’m gonna call first thing and see if I can get you into that PD posttraumatic-stress counseling. And I want you to take tomorrow off.”

“No way. Too many loose ends to tie up. Like, I have to file a habeas petition to vacate Delvis Diaz’s conviction, since now we know it was Slice who killed the Flatlands Boys. And I have to check on the Securilex case,” Melanie said.

“Oh, yes, that reminds me. Who made you a supervisor, miss? Since when are you empowered to make assignments?” Bernadette asked.

“Ah,” Melanie said with a laugh, “you mean Joe Williams?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. I just signed off on an arrest warrant for one Dolan Reed that had Joe’s initials on it instead of yours.”

“Man, that was quick! That Joe is a whiz!”

“Apparently a second witness surrendered this afternoon, a young woman from the Reed firm-”

“Sarah van der Vere?”

“Yes, and she had some gruesome story about blackmail and suicide. The Connecticut State Police picked Reed up at his country place a few hours ago, drunk as a skunk and babbling about blowing his brains out.”

“Wow, what a juicy case. Juicy and document-intensive. Joe deserves to work on it, Bern.”

“Did you hear me say no? He can help you out on this one case, but next time I’m disciplining you for insubordination. Understood?” Bernadette’s smile belied her scolding tone.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All right.” Her smile turned sad, then disappeared entirely. “Listen, I need to go deal with Romulado. He’ll have to plead, of course, but at least I can help him get a decent lawyer. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Bernadette took a deep breath and walked off in the direction of the police cruisers. Melanie watched her retreating figure with some measure of disappointment, leavened by a grudging, but definite, respect. Bernadette would come out of this smelling like a rose. She always did.