He stepped back at the sharp tone of her voice, his mouth twisting. "I wasn't treating you like a patient, I was treating you like a lady. It's a little thing called manners. You should try it some time."

To avoid answering, she shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth. He fixed a plate for himself and joined her across the table. The eggs were perfect, not too dry, not too soggy. Damn it.

At least he'd burnt the crust on her toast. Guy wasn't totally perfect after all.

There was silence except her clattering her silverware, not sure where the anger was coming from but happy to give it an outlet, chomping at her food without enjoying it.

Lightner watched her, at first in concern-which really pissed her off-then in amusement. She remembered his comment about tantrums.

Damn the man, did he always have to be right?

She swallowed and took a sip of orange juice. "Thank you. It's very good."

It was as close as she'd ever come to an apology-and she wasn't even sure what the hell she was apologizing for. But he nodded, his smile returning, making it all the way to his eyes when Hershey came up and nudged her thigh with his nose.

"He wants to play. Won't let up until you do."

Kate relented. Just because this wasn't, couldn't ever be her life, didn't mean she couldn't enjoy it while she was here. She finished eating and pushed her chair back so that she could grab Hershey's tug toy without jarring her bad side.

Her enjoyment was short lived. While she and Hershey were playing, the phone rang. Lightner answered, then brought it over to her. "It's Carter."

She took the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hey, how's it going? The patrol units said everything around there was quiet last night." Carter didn't wait for her reply. "Can you and the doc come down to the House? The brass called in the feebies and they want to talk to you both."

"I'll bet," she replied dryly. Bringing in outsiders to help solve the murders of their own cops, that rankled. "When and where?"

"They've taken over roll call. We'll be here all day."

"I'll be there shortly," she said and hung up.

Lightner looked up from his plate. "Something happen? Did they catch him?"

"No. Carter wants us to go down to the precinct to talk to some hotshot FBI investigators."

"How much are you going to tell them?"

She considered that. "I don't know."

Josh tried to make conversation as he drove through East Liberty, but Kate was distant, answering with short, clipped sentences. She kept her head tilted to the side, watching the street in front of them as well as what was reflected in the side view mirror. He looked over once and noticed that her gaze seemed constantly shifting-absorbing everything, weighing, assessing, judging. Her eyes had a hard edge to them that he didn't recognize.

"Son of a bitch!" Her shout made him jerk the wheel. "Pull over, stop the car!"

Josh slammed on the brakes and pulled the sports car into the bus lane. She had the door open before he came to a complete stop. She hauled herself to her feet. He undid his seatbelt and jumped out in time to see her racing across the street toward a group of kids gathered on the street corner. He followed after her, but was stopped by oncoming traffic.

"Kate, wait! What are you doing?" She ignored him, instead chasing after one youth as the remainder of the gang dispersed.

"Damn you, Marcus!" she was yelling as she used her good hand to shove the tall, lanky teenager against a wall. Josh joined her, looking over his shoulder, hoping that the others wouldn't notice that they were alone.

"I don't think this is a good idea," he said.

She continued to swear at the kid. Josh didn't know why Marcus, whoever he was, didn't haul off and belt her-the kid was big enough he could have taken both of them easily. Instead, Marcus just hung his head and assumed a position against the wall. He moaned when Kate awkwardly began to frisk him.

"I ain't carrying, O'Hern," he protested.

"You'd damned well better not be, Marcus," she replied, systematically searching his pockets. "Watch your English. I'm not one of your guttersnipe friends that you have to put on a show for." Apparently satisfied that Marcus had no drugs or weapons on him, she pulled at his shoulder, turning him around to face them. Josh was surprised to see that Marcus was smiling.

"Good to see you, O'Hern," he said. "Grams was upset when she read that you'd been shot."

"Not half as upset as she'll be if you lose your ride. Damn it, Marcus, what were you thinking, hanging out with that trash? You know it violates your parole."

"I have to live in this *hood. And when I leave for school, Gram still lives here. I don't want nobody hassling her."

"Your grandmother will be fine. I'll keep an eye out for her, I promise."

Marcus stared at her for a second, Josh could read the doubt on his face. Finally he nodded and put out a hand. Kate grasped it firmly. "Guess it was a good thing that guy didn't kill you, O'Hern."

Kate rolled her eyes and smiled. "Glad you feel that way, Marcus. By the way, meet the man you can blame for that. This is Joshua Lightner, he's my surgeon."

Josh couldn't help but grin at the way she said "my surgeon", and he took Marcus' hand. "Pleased to meet you, Marcus."

"Marcus is going to be a doctor some day. After he finishes school next June, he'll be starting at Penn State. If he doesn't blow his scholarship," she finished firmly.

"Not a chance, O'Hern-not between you and Grams bird-dogging me, anyway. Nice to meet you, doc. I've got to get going."

"Home to study, right?" Kate asked.

Marcus grinned. "Right." He started down the sidewalk.

"Tell your gram I said hi!" Kate called after him, and he waved his hand in reply.

"Nice kid," Josh said once they were safely off the street and back in the car.

"Yeah, I only hope he can make it to graduation without screwing up. He's smart, but it's tough in this neighborhood. Lots of people here want to see Marcus fall flat on his face. They don't want his success to remind them what they could've had if they didn't waste their lives smoking rock."

Josh looked in the rearview mirror at the dingy walls of the tenement behind them. "I'm glad I didn't have to fight all that, just for a chance to grow up."

She turned in her seat to stare at him. "You do understand. Most don't. They only know what they see on TV and in the movies."

"When you've patched together as many young bodies as I have, it makes you wonder about the future."

"Is that why you became a doctor, to try to change the future, one life at a time?" she asked, and Josh was well aware that now her eyes rested solely on him.

All he could do in answer was shrug. But out of the corner of his eye he saw her nod slowly with a small, serious smile on her face.

"Knew you were a control freak," she said as if welcoming him into an elite corps.

All he could do was smile in return, a warmth spreading through him for reasons he couldn't quite fathom but that didn't decrease his enjoyment.

Kate had Lightner pull into the visitor's space near the front door of the building that housed the Zone Five station house. She locked her Beretta in the glove compartment, then sat for a moment, looking at the solid brick building that resembled an elementary school more than a bastion of law and order. It was so difficult to accept that this place, a second home to her, was now foreign territory.

"Better get used to it," she muttered as she climbed out of the car. Get used to a lot of things losing their meaning once she wasn't a cop anymore.

Rolinson had the desk she saw once they passed through the metal detector and into the lobby. A few uniformed officers milled around, either in the process of coming or going, but no one met her eyes. In fact two men, both close friends with Phil Conrad, saw her and made a point of turning their back on her and walking away.

A chilly silence descended upon the small area. Foreign territory indeed. Seemed like she was definitely persona non gratis. Probably had Turner to thank for that.

Josh cleared his throat, obviously uncertain what the protocol was. Kate took pity on him and retrieved the visitor pass Rolinson handed her wordlessly. What would Jenn think if word of her father's accusations got back to her? Kate hoped the task force meeting went quickly so that she could get out of there and go see Jenn.

A cold voice cut through the commotion. Kate froze. Turner stood outside the door to his office and gestured at her.

"Officer O'Hern, please come in, I'd like to talk to you now."

"Damn," she murmured. She turned to Turner, met his beady gaze. "Sir, the task force is waiting for us. I don't want to keep them-"

"I really don't think you want to keep me waiting."

Kate held her ground. No way she was going in there alone without witnesses. Turner raised an eyebrow at her insubordination and gestured to someone behind him.

All eyes were now on her as he approached, followed by two men. Internal Affairs detectives, her own personal lynching party.

"Very well, we'll do this the hard way," Turner said, a smirk flitting across his features. "It's my duty to inform you that pending investigation, you are on inactive duty, Officer O'Hern."

"You can't do that! I want my PBA representative, we'll file a formal grievance."

"If you can find any one to listen to you on a Saturday, be my guest." This time his smile was mirrored by the two men from IAD. "In the meantime, we'll continue our investigation, so be sure you're available for further questioning if we need you." He held out his hand, palm up. "Your badge, O'Hern."

Kate stared at his outstretched hand as if it was a viper. Not a sound was to be heard but the silence was heavy, unfriendly. Slowly, she removed her badge from her jacket. She dropped it into his palm. It was only a piece of metal, had nothing to do with who she really was.

At least that's what she told herself.

"That's all for now. You may go," Turner told her in a gracious tone of voice as if thanking her for stopping by for a chat. As if he hadn't just taken the one thing most important to her.

Imagining leaving the job was one thing. Actually losing her badge-and to Turner's filthy lies-Kate was stunned, her cheeks burned as if they had been slapped. She had to get out of there before she hit Turner. Although the idea had some appeal. Her career was already over, how much worse could things get?

CHAPTER 28.

Josh couldn't believe what he was watching. Worse than a train wreck in slow motion. Everyone there knew what was going to happen, knew it was going to end badly, but no one intervened. He glanced around at the hard-set faces of the other police officers. They'd already condemned Kate, it appeared.

As soon as Turner walked away, gloating, he moved to stand beside Kate. "Are you sure you're up to facing the task force after all this?"

"Yeah, let's get it all over with."

Despite everything Turner had done to bring her down, she still held her head up high, shoulders drawn back. Josh followed her to the roll call room, watching her walk. No, not walk. Kate strode. Long, confident strides, hips swaying as if used to carrying weight on them, like an Old West gunslinger.

She turned before opening the door, her guard slipping for one brief instant, revealing the fatigue and stress that weighed upon her. He couldn't resist, he reached out, touching her arm for a long moment. Josh wasn't even sure if she noticed. Her eyes went blank as she blew out her breath and inhaled once again. Then she straightened, his hand falling free of her body, and she opened the door.

Roll call was a large, open room that reminded Josh of a basketball court without the markings on the floor or the bleachers. Instead, there was a large whiteboard on one wall and a long table in the middle of the room surrounded by a bunch of metal chairs. Enlarged photos of bullets and views of the homicide scenes were pinned up on the walls.

Carter was there with several other police officers and detectives. Everyone was focused on a middle-aged woman in a tailored wool suit the color of autumn leaves. She was speaking, gesturing with her arms while she paced the room. She paused and looked up when they approached.

Carter stood and held a chair out for Kate. She looked at him in surprise, and Josh surmised from the expression on the detective's face that he had also heard of Turner's accusations. Josh couldn't help but wonder if the task force and the FBI were going to follow Turner's lead.

"This must be Officer O'Hern," the woman said, coming forward and reaching a hand over the table to take Kate's. "I'm Anne Ramsey, from the FBI. And this," she indicated a balding young man sitting to one side, "is Special Agent Cohen. It's good to finally meet you, Officer. I'm hope you're feeling well after your ordeal."

Kate looked ill at ease, but nodded. Josh decided he liked Ramsey; she seemed to be straight forward, but not pushy. He noticed the way Cohen sat on the sidelines, where he could quietly observe everything and everyone and take notes.

"Officer O'Hern," Ramsey began. "I would be most interested to hear your account. Your feelings, your thoughts, not just the official version you gave for your report."

"I put everything in my report-" Kate protested.

"I'm not suggesting that you didn't, but every good cop has impressions, intuitions that are difficult to place into words or put down on paper. It is those insights that I'd like you to share with us."

Kate hesitated. How many times would they put her through this? Josh wondered, reaching under the table and wrapping his hand around hers. She gave his hand a quick squeeze, as if he was the one needing encouragement, before pulling away. She lay her hand on top of the table, flat, steady. The hand of a competent, capable police officer. There was nothing of the distraught woman he had comforted last night here, not in this room.

"We were taking care of a minor traffic accident on Negley when the call came. We both knew the address, that place has been hit before. We pulled up, and Rob took up position in the alley beside the store."

As she told her story in frank, unflinching tones, Josh had to fight to keep his face neutral. It was the first time he had heard the entire story. His mouth went dry as he remembered the chaos in the trauma room that night, straining to focus as he worked to reach the bleeding vessel with the vascular clamp while his other hand held her heart. Brown stains of Betadine and too-dark blood had glistened in the bright lights, gleamed against the whiteness of her skin. At one point, he had turned his head to bark out an order and for one brief, endless instant he had looked at her face, watched the faint blush of color return as her heart resumed beating and the blood they pumped into her began to circulate.

Josh blinked hard. He'd been so close to losing her...

The room was silent for a moment, and Ramsey took control again. "Thank you, Officer. You can all see how this fits into our profile." She pointed to an outline on the whiteboard. "Our man is compulsive, he does his homework, knows police procedures, even uses police equipment. He was probably wearing one, if not two, Kevlar vests that night. The witnesses at the store also confirm that he took his time, didn't try to stop the silent alarm from being triggered."

Ramsey leaned forward, both hands palm down on the table. "He's been planning this for a long time, down to the last detail. He knew both officers would be wearing vests so he aimed for the head and neck regions and used armor-piercing bullets. He went out that night planning to murder two police officers."

"Yeah, but what about everything afterward?" Carter asked. "Did he plan all that? Because I get the feeling that somehow the game changed. What happened to Conrad didn't seem as well rehearsed, in fact it was only luck that the shooter got out of there at all."

"We would've had him," another officer chimed in, "if it hadn't been for that lady driver going crazy when she saw him running and ramming her car at us."

"I think you're right, Detective. Things did change after that night. Instead of him holding the power of life and death, condemning two cops to death, one of them lived. Think how that must have enraged him, mocked him."

"So to gain back his feeling of control, he's begun his own little war on cops?"

"Yes. Now he's controlling us, like pieces in a chess game."

"We figured some of this out without your help, you know, but we still couldn't stop him at Dimeo's funeral," Carter said bitterly.

"I think you're staking out the wrong target," Ramsey replied. "The other cops are merely the pawns in the game, so to speak. The whole point is him winning-and his concept of winning is ultimately to gain power, control over death."

"You want to translate for us pawns?"

"We're all pawns, Detective. All except Officer O'Hern, that is."