MELANIE STOOD SCANNING THE CROWDED BLOCK with a vague sense of urgency and unease. When she spotted Dan O’Reilly talking to one of the cops, the palpable relief she felt told her he was what she’d been searching for, though she hadn’t realized it.

He must have sensed her eyes on him. He looked up immediately and met her gaze, then patted the cop on the arm and excused himself. As he walked toward her, their glances holding the whole way, she felt her heart pounding.

“Hey,” he said, when he reached her. “C’mere.”

He took her hand and pulled her into the shadows near the basement entrance, away from the crowd, where they wouldn’t be seen. She didn’t protest. Hardly. Her eyes closed and her lips parted of their own accord as he drew her into his arms, up against his chest, which felt solid and unyielding as steel. His mouth on hers was sweet and demanding at the same time. When he set her down after a moment, she was utterly breathless.

“I’m not gonna lie to you,” he said grimly. “I’m falling for you so hard, Melanie. I don’t know how to handle it.”

“You say it like it’s a curse.”

“It is a curse. You’re married.”

“You’re right,” she conceded, sighing. He wasn’t letting himself forget the complications. She shouldn’t either.

“What can we do?” he asked, taking her by the shoulders and looking down into her eyes. Mira, what was it about this man? The rough caress of his voice, the clarity of his gaze, his magnificent height? She was actually trembling at his touch. She tried to tell herself it was accumulated stress, but she didn’t think so.

“I know what I should do,” she said. “I should tell you I can’t see you right now. That I need to sort things out with my husband.”

“But he doesn’t treat you right,” he protested. “I saw it in your eyes the second we met. I said to myself, Something is screwed up here. This girl needs me. And come to find out, it was true.”

“It’s not so simple,” she said, in a small voice. “It’s not just myself I have to think about here-it’s my daughter. Divorce is really tough on kids. Believe me, I know that firsthand.”

“Oh. You never mentioned that before,” he said.

“Yes. My parents split. My father lives in Puerto Rico. He has a new wife, a second family. I never see him.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry.”

“It’s sort of ancient history, and yet it’s not. It affects me in a lot of ways. It definitely makes me think long and hard about whether to end my marriage.”

“I understand. I respect that. You take commitment seriously. But a bad marriage isn’t good for kids either. Besides, what about this? I mean, what about…about…us? Isn’t this-I mean, don’t you-”

She reached up and touched her fingertips to his lips to silence him. “This? This is a powerful thing, Dan O’Reilly. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

He took her hand from his lips and kissed it, looking into her eyes with barely suppressed exultation. “No problem, then. I’ll wait. I can be very patient.”

“Even if I’m not sure how long it’ll take? Or what the outcome will be? I want to be completely honest with you.”

“Don’t you know me by now? I don’t scare, and I don’t give up. You do what you have to do. I’m not going anywhere.”

She shook her head in confusion. “I’m not even sure whether we should see each other while I’m trying to work this through.”

“We can see each other as much or as little as you want. How about I bring you a good case? Terrorism, maybe? Lotta shit going on down on Atlantic Avenue these days. We can work together, hang out, maybe grab lunch or a drink now and then.”

“Maybe.” She hesitated. “But I don’t want to put you in a difficult position.”

“Hey, sweetheart, you’re talking to Mr. Self-Discipline here. I’m the king of cold showers. I can keep my hands to myself if we’re working a case.”

“Maybe you can, but I’m not sure I can,” she said. After all, in her thoughts, hadn’t she already imagined it? Weren’t they already amantes? She knew herself, and, more than that, she knew how much she wanted him.

“Come on, say we can at least work together,” he said. “Think about all the good we could do. The honest citizens out there counting on us to keep the streets safe. And think about how much fun we’d have, the two of us, locking up the bad guys together.”

She laughed. “Now, how am I supposed to say no to something like that?”

“You’re not.”

“Okay, but listen. For the foreseeable future, we’re the greatest team in law enforcement and nothing else. You got that? Anything else remains to be seen.”

“Yes, ma’am. You got yourself a deal.” His eyes were fixed on hers. She could tell he wanted to touch her, but he wouldn’t let himself. He took a step backward. “But I like a challenge. So don’t think this is over. It’s just getting started. And you’ll be hearing from me, like, first thing in the morning.”

He turned and walked away, smiling, his step confident, not looking back.

ONE OF THE PARAMEDICS WHO CAME FOR SOPHIE looked in Melanie’s eyes with a flashlight and told her she didn’t need to go to the hospital. So she spent some time giving her statement to a detective and headed for home.

Madison Avenue was bustling, the rain-soaked darkness made glamorous by the lavish displays in the shop windows and the expensively dressed people walking by. Her head still throbbed, yet when she breathed the night air, she felt a sense of clarity and anticipation. In a strange way, this case had cleared her mind. She was ready to move on to the next phase in her life. She would work hard, be a good mother to her daughter, and figure out what the future held for her battered heart. But Dan was right. She was a survivor. And that was a joyous thing to be.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am forever grateful to the three people who took this novel from a glimmer in my eye to a reality:

My husband, Jeffrey, who had endless faith in me and supported this project in more ways than I can recount;

My wonderful agent and good friend, Meg Ruley, who made it all happen; and

My amazing editor, Carolyn Marino, who believed in an unknown and guided me with the greatest skill and insight.

I am also indebted to the following: Kara Cesare, Peggy Gordijn, Jennifer Civiletto, Martha Hughes, Randy Dwenger, Triss Stein, Nicole Gruenstein, Annelise Robey, Donald Cleary, and Andrea Cirillo, for their advice and support; Amy Mundorff of the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner of New York City and Lynn Sullivan, M.D., for vetting the gory details; and my son, Jack, for his boundless enthusiasm for this book and killer title suggestions (The Mystery Bad Guy being my all-time favorite).

About the Author

A graduate of Harvard University and Stanford Law School, Michele Martinez worked at a prestigious Manhattan law firm before serving eight years as a federal prosecutor. She lives in New York City with her husband and two children.