Amy took it.

“Jim is a sergeant with the Texas Rangers.”

“Really? I’m not sure what that is, but it sounds impressive.”

“It is,” Matt said, then added, “The Black Buddha is going to join us.”

“The more the merrier,” Amy said without much conviction.

Jesus Christ. Is she in one of her moods?

It’s been too long a day for that.

Matt looked at her. “Everything okay?”

“Should I be asking the same of you, Wyatt Earp?”

“You two want to be alone?” Byrth asked.

Matt made a face. “No, Jim. You’re fine.”

“Sorry about that, Jim,” Amy said. “Didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

“No apology. I’m a big boy. I just thought you might want some privacy for when you punched Matt.”

She looked at him and smiled. It was a genuine one.

“C’mon, Amy,” Matt said. “That was a good shooting. For Christ’s sake, that sonofabitch pumped thirteen rounds into Skipper. It was an assassination. And there’s video that proves I got shot at.”

He stared at her.

After a moment, he said, “Can we not get into this right now? It’s been one helluva day, and Jim and I could use a drink. Or three.”

He looked at the table. All that was there was the usual centerpiece. It held salt and pepper shakers and a container with packets of sugar and sugar substitute. But there was no drink, not even water.

“You’re not drinking, Amy?”

“We haven’t ordered. We just got here.”

We? Matt thought.

She glanced toward the back of the bar, where the steps led to the second-floor dining area and, beyond the steps, the men’s and ladies’ rooms.

Matt’s eyes followed hers back there-and he thought he was going to have a heart attack.

Coming out from the very back, by the restrooms, was an absolutely gorgeous blonde who was running the fingers of her right hand through her thick, luxurious hair.

Good God! Amanda Law!

In Liberties!

Be still, my heart!

VIII

[ONE] 705 North Second Street, Philadelphia Wednesday, September 9, 6:05 P.M.

Sergeant Matt Payne watched the gorgeous Dr. Amanda Law as she walked across the well-worn wooden floor of Liberties. He saw that she no longer had her doctor’s lab coat. Now she wore jeans that fit her toned body remarkably snugly, gold metallic leather flat-soled espadrilles, and a clingy white linen top that was cut to reveal just a suggestion of cleavage.

He had a hard time believing that this goddess was in one of his favorite bars.

Look at that stride, he thought. She just seems to float across the room.

Matt turned to his sister.

“You know Dr. Law?” he said.

“Yeah,” Dr. Amelia Payne replied. “So do you.”

“I do? I just met her this morning, at the hospital.”

Amy stared at her brother.

After a moment, she said, “You really don’t remember?”

Matt broke the stare, then glanced at Jim Byrth.

Byrth smiled and said, “Don’t look at me, Marshal. I just rode into town.”

Amy then said, “Her father was a cop, Matt. In Northeast Detectives.”

Matt shook his head. “Sorry. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“He had twenty years in when he got shot on duty. Took a bullet to the hip. So they gave him disability and he retired. And Amanda and I were suitemates our freshman year at UP.”

“Suitemates?”

Amy shook her head disappointedly, as if she were speaking to a five-year-old.

“Yeah,” Amy said. “She and her roommate had one bedroom, my roommate and I had the other, and we shared a bath. Don’t be so dense.”

“I know what a suitemate is. I just forgot she’d been yours.”

If I ever knew.

I was still at the academy-blame it on my being preoccupied with whatever girlfriend I had at the time.

Amy went on: “When I heard about Becca, I called Amanda. It’s no small wonder it turned out that Becca’s her patient; Amanda’s the best. She wanted to meet me for drinks, but I told her you and I were doing that. And so I asked if she wanted to join us. I hope you don’t mind.”

Matt glanced at the approaching Amanda.

Mind?

Me mind?

Never.

“This Becca is the one who was injured in the motel explosion?” Jim Byrth said. “And this woman is her doctor?”

“Yeah,” Amy said. “Becca Benjamin. We’ve known the family for years. And Amanda is Becca’s doctor.”

Byrth nodded and said, “Matt told me that. I was just making sure I had it straight.”

Dr. Amanda Law walked up to the table. She smiled and said, “Hello again, Matt.”

He felt his pulse start to race.

Matt held out his hand and said, “We’re going to have to stop meeting, or people are going to start talking.”

Now, that was lame!

I’m just making all sorts of great impressions on her today.

God, she even smells heavenly!

She raised her eyebrows. “It has been an interesting day. At least these circumstances are more civil.”

Matt said, “Amy tells me we met a long time ago.”

“Amy told me the same. I don’t doubt it. But I’m sorry. I’m afraid I don’t remember.”

What? I’m crushed!

Amanda went on: “When you gave me your card this morning, I thought the ‘Payne’ was familiar. But then I didn’t know if the connection was because of Amy having the same name or because of my dad knowing cops.”

“Speaking of cops,” she said, and reached into her purse, “I brought you something.”

She pulled out a tongue depressor and held it out to him.

Damn! “Amanda, I do owe you an apology…”

“What’s that about?” Amy said. “An apology?”

Matt ignored his sister.

He took the flat wooden stick, looked at it a second, then said, “I’m really sorry, Amanda. Really. It was an extraordinary moment.”

“Yes, it was. Apology accepted.”

Matt smiled.

Thank God.

“Thank you,” he said, slipping the depressor into his pocket.

He motioned toward Byrth.

“Now that that’s all straightened out, Dr. Amanda Law, this is Sergeant Jim Byrth.”

“How are you, Sergeant?” Amanda said.

“It’s ‘Jim.’ And I’m fine, thank you, ma’am. Pleasure to meet you.”

Payne pulled out a chair for Amanda.

“Thank you,” she said as she sat down.

Payne then waved his hand above his head to get the attention of the waitress. She was at the end of the bar, putting an order of drinks on a round tray. When she saw him, he motioned with his fist to mime drinking, then pointed at their table. The waitress smiled and nodded.

Jim Byrth was about to sit down.

“You can’t sit there,” Payne said.

“What’re you going to do,” Amy said sharply, “have your guest stand all night?”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “And I thought that I had a bad day.”

He stepped over to the adjacent table, put his hands on opposite ends of the tabletop, and began sliding it toward the table where Amy and Amanda sat. Jim Byrth saw that the chair that he’d been about to sit in was in the way. He moved it. When the tables had been pushed together, he and Matt rearranged the empty chairs.

The new arrangement had Amanda sitting at one end and Amy on the corner to her left. Matt sat down in the chair on the corner to Amanda’s right, which gave him a clear view of the front door. Byrth then sat to the right of Matt. The Hat went into the empty chair at the end of the table, the one opposite Amanda Law.

The bar’s wooden front door squeaked open.

Matt Payne automatically glanced at it-and saw that Byrth did the same. It was obviously no accident that the Texas Ranger had also made sure he had a view of the door-and of everyone who entered or left.

In came Jason Washington. On his heels was Tony Harris. Both were in plainclothes. Washington was in a tailored tan poplin suit that even after the long, hard day looked crisp. Harris had on dark slacks, a white knit shirt, and his usual well-worn blue blazer.