Morganstern was right. Nick needed a vacation, and he needed sex. Lots of sex, but not with just any woman. He wanted Laurant.

"Gin." Laurant smiled at Joe when she showed him her cards. He groaned.

The kettle began to hiss. Laurant got up to fix the tea. She poured water into all three cups, then put the kettle back on the stove and turned to walk out of the kitchen.

"Hey, what about your tea?" Joe asked.

"I’m going upstairs now. I think I’d like to take a hot bubble bath."

Nick gritted his teeth. Now, why in the hell did she think they needed to know that? Damn. His mind went wild, and all he could think about was her lush body covered in a mist of bubbles. He wanted to follow her and dive into the tub with her. He headed to the guest room instead and took a cold shower.

Joe was watching a movie downstairs, so Nick, dressed in his jeans and his favorite old T-shirt, went into Laurant’s room to watch Sports Roundup.

Theo called to check in. It was late in Boston, but his brother never slept. He was in the mood to talk about the latest bizarre case he was prosecuting. Nick tried to pay attention, but his eyes were locked on that bathroom door, and x-rated images kept flashing through his mind.

"What’d you say?" he asked Theo.

"Is everything okay with you?"

Hell, no. "Sure," he answered. "You know how it goes. It’s the waiting that makes me nuts."

"How come you haven’t mentioned Laurant? I haven’t seen her in years. I’ll bet she’s changed. What’s she like?"

"She’s Tommy’s sister. That’s what she’s like." Big mistake, Nick realized as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He’d sounded defensive, and Theo’s reputation for being a top-rate prosecutor wasn’t just talk. He immediately went for the jugular.

"So that’s how it is."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Uh-huh."

"Nothing’s going on."

"Does Tommy know?"

"Know what?" he hedged.

"That you’ve got the hots for his sister."

Before Nick could answer, Theo laughed. "You’re going to have to tell him."

Nick pictured his hand going through the phone and grabbing his brother by the throat. "Theo, if you know, what’s good for you, you’ll stop fishing. There’s nothing to tell. Laurant’s fine. Just fine Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed. "Tell me something."

"What?"

"Does she still have those long legs?"

"Theo?"

"Yeah?"

"Go to hell."

Chapter 26

He came in through the back door.

He’d tried using the key he had duplicated, but the bitch had obviously changed the locks. Now why had she done that, he wondered. Had she found the camera? He stood on the back stoop nervously flipping the key over and over in his hand while he pondered the possibility and finally decided no, she couldn’t have found it. It was too well hidden. Then he remembered how old and rusty the lock was, and he assumed that it had simply broken.

Fortunately, he had worn his black windbreaker, and he could use it to protect his hand and break the glass. He’d put on the jacket so that he could blend into the night and wouldn’t be seen by the two, dried-up old hags living next door to Laurant. They were like cats sitting in their windows looking out. He’d parked the car three blocks away, another precaution against her nosy neighbors, and walked over to her house, making sure he stayed away from the streetlights and close to the bushes.

Twice he felt like someone was following him, and he got so spooked he considered turning around and going back home, but the rage inside of him kept propelling him forward. The need to strike out was eating at him like acid, forcing him to take the calculated risk. He craved hurting her the way an alcoholic craved a drink of whiskey. The need wouldn’t leave him alone, and he knew he would take any risk to get even.

He slowly removed his jacket, carefully folded it to double thickness, wrapped his hand inside the material, and then, imagining the glass was Laurant’s face, he slammed his fist through the window exerting far more force than was necessary. The glass imploded, shattering fragments into the back hallway.

The rush of adrenaline felt like an orgasm, and he almost shouted God’s name in vain just for the sheer thrill of it. He suddenly felt powerful and invincible. No one would touch him. No one.

He certainly wasn’t concerned about being heard, for he was sure the house was empty. Nick and Laurant had been picked up by her brother and another priest and had gone to the rehearsal dinner. He’d watched them leave before he’d gone back home to wait and then get ready. It was just after eleven now, and they wouldn’t be back until well after midnight. Plenty of time, he thought, to do what he wanted and get out.

He reached in, unlocked the dead bolt, opened the door, and came inside. He had to resist the urge to whistle.

The silent alarm began to flash the second the door opened, but Nick already knew someone was inside the house. He and Laurant had returned home earlier than expected, and he had taken the watch while Joe caught up on his sleep. Nick was upstairs on the landing and had just started down the steps when he heard the sound of glass breaking. The noise was distant but unmistakable.

He didn’t hesitate. Drawing his gun, he nipped the safety off and headed for the guest room to alert Joe. He was reaching for the doorknob when the door opened and Joe stepped out, his Clock already in his hand, the barrel pointed to the ceiling. He nodded to Nick to let him know he was ready, then faded back into the darkness of the room, leaving the door wide open. Nick pointed to the flashing alarm, and Joe quickly unplugged it.

Without making a sound, Nick turned and hurried into Laurant’s on her back, her hands at her sides, an open Frank McCourt memoir resting on her chest. He went to the side of the bed, squatted down next to her, and put his hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t make any noise when she woke up.

"Laurant, wake up. We’ve got company." His hushed voice was calm.

She woke up trying to scream. Her eyes flew open, and she tried to focus as she instinctively shoved his hand away. Then she realized it was Nick touching her. His words registered at the same time that she saw the gun.

"I need you to be real quiet," he whispered. She nodded. She understood. Nick pulled his hand back and she pushed the sheets aside as she bolted upright. The forgotten book went flying and would have struck the hardwood floor had Nick not grabbed it in midair. He put it down on the bed, reached up to switch off the reading lamp, then took her hand and gently pulled her to her feet.

Her heart was pounding frantically, and she had trouble catching her breath. The room was so dark they had to feel their way along the wall. Nick led her into the bathroom, and she was reaching for the light switch when his hand covered hers.

"No lights," he whispered.

He stepped back into the bedroom and quietly pulled the door closed behind him.

"Be careful," she whispered.

She wanted to beg him to stay with her, but she knew he wouldn’t and couldn’t do that.

It was pitch black inside, and she was afraid to move for fear she would accidentally knock something over and let the intruder know the household was awake. Head bowed, she folded her arms across her stomach and stood frozen while her mind raced. How could she help? What could she do that wouldn’t be a hindrance?

She was terrified for Nick. The unexpected could trip up even the a vulnerable point, and Nick was no exception. If anything happened to him, she didn’t know what she would do. Please God, keep him safe.

It was deadly quiet. She pressed her ear against the door and strained to hear any little sound. She stood that way for over a minute-it seemed like an eternity to her-and still nothing but the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.