Enough fantasizing! I’m a professional. I’ve got to behave like one.

“Okay, you’re still my patient. Turn around on the couch and lower the blanket so I can have a look under those dressings again.”

Jack did as he was told. She carefully removed the dressing covering the wound across his shoulder blade. She gently ran her hand over the smooth skin on his back, lightly probing with her fingers. She felt his muscles tense under her hand and noticed he held his breath.

“I’m sorry, does it hurt?”

“No,” he replied softly, “it feels good.”

Neither spoke as Natasha put on a fresh dressing.

“Turn around and let me take a look at your arm.”

His eyes were intensely fixed on her face. She pretended not to notice as she peeled off the dressing.

“This looks fine, too! You’re really doing well.” She picked up a fresh roll of gauze and wrapped the dressing around his arm. The closer she came to the end, the slower she wrapped.

When she finished she said, “There! All done,” in a voice she hoped would sound perky.

He stared at her eyes, their faces almost touching. He didn’t move or speak. She tried to smile but felt her lip tremble and quickly looked away.

She felt his other hand on her back, guiding her toward him. She closed her eyes and felt his warm lips on hers. It was much different than their first kiss. This was long and gentle. She felt herself drawn against his naked chest, where she remained a moment before pulling away.

She cleared her throat. “Get in there and get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning before I go to work.”

“Are you going to sleep on the sofa?”

She stared at him for a moment without speaking, then answered, “Yes … but I want you to kiss me once more before you go.”

chapter twenty-two

It was mid-morning when Jack let Danny inside Natasha’s apartment.

“Louie wants to talk to you!” said Danny, handing Jack a bag containing his clothes.

“I’m not surprised. We’ll go back to my place and I’ll call him from there.”

“I was supposed to wait until Natasha looked at you. Maybe we should leave a note.”

“She’s working until four-thirty. I found a spare key on top of the fridge, so I’ll be able to lock up. I’ll talk to her later.”

Danny stared at Jack, then said, “She’s a smart girl — and damned attractive.”

Jack looked at Danny, then said, “I noticed. Now take me home. We’ve got work to do!”

Back in his own apartment, Jack looked at the information that Danny had found on Wizard, Rolly, and Lance. Wizard was forty-five years old and had four convictions for trafficking in drugs: fines on the first two, thirty days in jail for the third, and six months of house arrest for the last time. A month later he was charged with armed robbery, but it was dismissed. Jack pointed to the report and said, “Why?”

“Lack of evidence,” said Danny. “The only witness was killed in a hit-and-run accident. Wizard is also a suspect in three murders. Those victims were all drug dealers.”

“Probably a little tardy in their payments.”

“He changes addresses and girlfriends about as often as you’d change your shorts.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“He maintains a pretty high lifestyle,” continued Danny. “Most of his apartments have been penthouse suites. He also drives a Ferrari.”

“Does he work?”

“Fisherman. He owns a crab boat out in White Rock. It’s paid off, too.”

Jack looked at Rolly’s file. “Thirty-seven years old. Convicted for drug trafficking, break and enter, armed robbery, assault causing bodily harm, extortion … a regular pillar of society.”

“He owns an older-style house on a double lot in North Van.”

“Mortgage?”

“Nope. He paid it off one year after moving in. Lists his occupation as a mechanic. Spends two days a week at one of the bike shops owned by the club. He’s been living with some stripper for the last two years.”

“Another boy not smart enough to hide his money.”

Jack then picked up the file on Lance Morgan. “This is interesting: he’s thirty-nine years old and his record is mostly for auto theft, fraud, false pretences, impaired driving, and one charge of trafficking, which was dismissed.”

“He was caught with two kilos of cocaine in a rental vehicle,” Danny explained. “He took the stand and gave the usual story that someone who rented the car previously must have left it in there. The judge said it was enough for reasonable doubt and dismissed the case.”

“He only served a one-month sentence for auto theft, strictly provincial. He’s never seen the inside of a federal pen.”

“He’s still a badass,” said Danny.

“By the looks of his record he’s not as violent as his partners.”

“Or he’s just smarter and hasn’t been caught.”

“I’m looking for someone smarter. What else do you have on him?”

“He’s married to some waitress, and they’ve got four kids. He owns an arcade, and they’ve got a modest home just outside of Vancouver. I think it’s in…”

“Surrey,” said Jack, studying the report.

“Yeah, it’s just an average house with a big mortgage.”

Jack slowly sifted through the file again.

“So? What are you thinking?” asked Danny.

“I want to know more about Lance Morgan. See if he owns any companies or whatever. An arcade is a good business for laundering money. It would be tough to prove how many kids are dropping how many quarters into all those machines. Lance may be a lot smarter than his cohorts. He also has a family. This could be our chance.”

“Our chance to do what?”

The telephone interrupted Jack’s reply.

“All right, Jack! What the hell are you up to?”

“Oh … Louie! How are you?” replied Jack, catching the worried look on Danny’s face.

“Don’t give me that crap! What are you up to?”

“Didn’t Danny tell you? I took a few days off to go fishing.”

“Bullshit! I didn’t say anything to him in case he believed it. But I sure as hell don’t!”

“Well … I’m fishing for bad guys.”

“Jesus, you drive me nuts sometimes. I’ve been listening to the news, reading the papers — even the obituary columns — trying to figure out where you were or what you were up to. I’ve been phoning for two days. If you’ve been down to the States again, so help me I’ll —”

“No, no, Louie! Relax! There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve been spending a lot of time on the street. Only at home to sleep.”

“So everything is okay?” asked Grazia suspiciously.

“You bet.”

“Did you catch any?”

“Catch any?”

“Bad guys. You said you were fishing for bad guys.”

“Had a few nibbles. Nothing solid, but I’ve got a feeling in my bones that we’re on to something.”

Natasha was in a grim mood as she drove home from work that evening. Usually she enjoyed a warm autumn rain. It made her feel cozy when she sat beside her fireplace with a glass of wine. Today was different. The rain only served to accent her feelings of despair, along with a dyspeptic stomach that gnawed at her like a disease.

She had picked up sandwiches at the deli and rushed home at lunchtime, hoping to surprise him, only to find her apartment empty. The ungrateful swine could have at least written a note to say thank you!

She felt the tears well in her eyes as she tried to force her office key into her apartment door. She changed keys, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

She looked on the counter as if by magic there might be a note, but there was nothing.

But something had changed. She looked again. Her kitchen felt warm, and her stereo was playing quietly in the living room.