"We'd better get over there," Therese said. She looked over Jo's shoulder as Cadie emerged, tucking her shirt Into her jeans, a pair of sungla.s.ses held in her mouth by the arm piece. She still looked a little disheveled. "I know we're all probably feeling a little rough around the edges," the attorney said. "But it would help a lot if we tried not to look like we feel, okay?" She paused while everyone started smoothing down hair and straightening clothes. "Great party, by the way, Skipper."

Jo grinned. "We live to serve."

The group made its way up on deck, where Jen handed out last-minute cups of coffee. Paul sat miserably on the edge of the c.o.c.kpit cowling, his sore head in his hands. Jo patted his knee sympathetically, smiling quietly at the memories of the big man swinging from the mast.

"I hate to do this to you, Paulie, but I think we're going to have to get ready to get out of here in a bit of a hurry. If we can get the senator out of the joint, she's going to want to get as far away from dry land as possible."

Paul groaned. "Shoot me now," he muttered, provoking a laugh from the dark-haired woman.

"Just say 'aye aye, Skipper'," she said.

"Oh shut up," he moaned.

Nothing the American attorneys said had any impact on the laconic custody sergeant in charge of the Hamilton Island lock-up. Despite the urgency of their pleas to see their clients, he was moving with all the speed of-well, Jo reasoned, all the speed of a cop who's been up all night dealing with the vagaries of Race Week. She couldn't help but smile at the frustration evident in the tourists. Even the usually unflappable Toby was beginning to get frayed around the edges.

They had managed to run the gauntlet of the press phalanx outside, mainly because n.o.body had recognized them. That wasn't going to be the case going out, Jo knew, and she was already planning their exit strategy. a.s.suming we can get the Terrible Trio sprung at all, Jo thought. And judging by our lack of progress so far, that's not a given.

She looked over to her left where Cadie was sitting quietly, head resting back against the wall of the police station. The pet.i.te blonde looked slightly stunned. Jo reached over and gently placed a hand on the woman's knee.

"You okay?" she asked quietly.

Green eyes met hers gratefully. Cadie nodded. "I'm just trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be feeling," she replied, an ironic smile touching her lips. "Naomi hasn't exactly given me too many reasons to think fondly of her lately." Jo arched an eyebrow at her. "Yeah, I know. Understatement." She leaned closer to the tall skipper, till their shoulders touched. "But this could mean big trouble for her. Career-wise, I mean."

Jo smiled sympathetically down at her. "And that's been the focus of both your lives for so long, you don't want to see it damaged," she extrapolated, nodding. "I understand, love." She smiled again as Cadie squeezed her hand quickly. Jo looked back at the group of Americans trying to make headway with the custody sergeant. Then she glanced at Cadie again. "Why don't I give Harding a ring?" she asked.

A flicker of hope crossed the blonde's face. "You think he might be able to help?"

Jo shrugged. "It can't hurt. He's pretty high up down in Sydney and at the very least he'll know a few people to call."

An adorable wrinkle-nosed grin was her reward.

"I guess that means yes," Jo said, patting Cadie's knee and starting to reach for the cell phone on her own hip. She was stopped by a hand on her arm and she looked back to see the blonde biting her lip anxiously. "What's up?"

"There's something I need to tell you first," Cadie said.

"Okay," Jo replied slowly.

"Remember the conversation we had a few days ago? About Naomi threatening you?" Jo nodded. "Well, she implied that she would plant drugs on board the Seawolf if I don't do what she wants from now on." She held Jo's hand tightly as she felt the thrumming vibration of rising anger in the tall skipper. "Jo, last night before I joined the party, I searched our cabin from top to bottom."

That explains why it took her so long to get changed, Jo realized. "And what did you find?" she asked softly, pushing her anger into a manageable bundle at the back of her brain.

"Not a d.a.m.n thing," Cadie replied. "Which means she's either put them somewhere else on the boat or..."

Their eyes met.

"Or she's bluffing," Jo finished.

Cadie nodded.

Jo leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees, hands clasped in front of her as she tried to think the situation through calmly and rationally. She turned her head to look up at the blonde. "You think maybe this little fiasco might make her forget about ha.s.sling me?" she asked.

Cadie considered the question. On the one hand, she had never seen Naomi as jealous and possessive and... downright nasty... as she had been about the Seawolf's skipper. But then you've never been in love with anyone else, either, Arcadia, she reminded herself. On the other hand...

"My guess would be yes," she replied. "If she follows her usual pattern, then her No. I concern is, and will always be, her career. She's going to be too busy trying to save her political hide to be messing with you." She paused and caught blue eyes dark with concern. "I hope." She smiled wanly.

Jo snorted. "Well, I don't think we can take any chances," she said, flipping open her cell phone and dialing Paul's number.

"Hey Paulie, it's me. No, we're going to be a while, I think. Listen, I need you to do something for me. There's a rumor going around that we may have some drugs stashed somewhere on board." She eased the phone away from her ear as Paul protested loudly. "I know, mate. But the way things are right now, it's in our best interests to turn the boat over, just in case. If you find anything, ditch it any way you can. No, don't worry about Cadie's cabin; she's already been through it." Jo glanced up at the group of Americans still trying to negotiate with the custody sergeant. "No, Paulie, I don't give a rip about their privacy right now. If we ever get out of here, we're going to have a pack of press and G.o.d knows who else on our tail, and I don't want any nasty consequences for the company."

Cadie watched as the dark-haired woman calmly went about organizing things with Paul. She reached out and placed a hand on the small of the skipper's back, rubbing gently with her fingertips.

I'm so glad she's here, Cadie thought, noting the fatigue evident on Jo's face as she scrubbed at her eyes with her free hand. The blonde remembered the Jo who had rescued Josh and blown away the man with the machine gun. That woman is a part of her all the time, she considered, recognizing the realities and history there. You can see it in the way she handles every crisis. Calculating. Smart. Cool.

"Thanks, Paul." Jo turned off the phone and closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the feel of Cadie's fingers slowly working the tense muscles in her lower back. She's turned my world upside down, she thought. But I've never felt luckier.

They were both brought out of their reveries by a particularly frustrated outburst from Therese.

"Okay," Jo said, pushing herself up. "Time to get this bulls.h.i.t done with." She walked forward, tapping the attorney on the shoulder. Therese looked at her inquiringly. "I think I can help," Jo said quietly. "Let me make some phone calls."

"Great, Skipper, go for it. We're having no luck getting through to this idiot."

The sergeant bristled and Jo raised her hands in placation.

"Let's just all settle, shall we?" she asked, directing the Americans to the seats along the wall where Cadie was resting. She turned back to the by now far less friendly policeman and rewarded him with one of her most winning smiles.

Cadie smirked at the charmed look that immediately softened the man's craggy features. Putty in her hands, the blonde chuckled silently.

"Sarge," Jo started, pressing her hands down on the counter-top and leaning conspiratorially towards him, "I know you've had a long night, and the last thing you want, really, is a pack of Americans on one side and the press just outside the door. Am I right?"

"It has been a long night, that's true, miss," he said, reaching up and loosening his dark blue tie, unleashing the top b.u.t.ton of his uniform shirt. "But I can't go letting those ladies go just because they're tourists, now can I?"

"No, no you can't," Jo agreed solemnly. She rested her forearms on the desktop and considered her options. "The thing is though, you'd be doing me an enormous favor if you let me make a few phone calls and try and get this sorted out. See, these guys are my responsibility. And if my boss gets wind of this, he's going to kick my backside from one end of the Pa.s.sage to the other."

The policeman knew enough to know he was being played, but he was enjoying the beautiful woman's attentions too much to make Jo stop. "I can certainly understand why you'd want to clear this up as quickly as possible, miss," he said agreeably, leaning down next to her.

"So how about letting me make those calls?" she asked, smiling up at him.

He reached under the counter and pulled up a phone, plunking it down on the desktop with a nonchalant smile. "I'll even let you use my blower, miss," he said.

That's my girl, Cadie thought with a smile as she watched Jo grin at the officer.

Meaty, nicotine-stained fingers fumbled for the jangling phone that was out to torture Detective Ken Harding. A jaundiced eye peeled itself open enough to take in the clock radio's red glare.

Who the f.u.c.k is calling me at Sam on my liny oil? His first attempt at answering failed miserably when all he produced was a hoa.r.s.e gargle. "What?" he barked, second time lucky.

"h.e.l.lo, Ken," purred a dark, rich female voice that could only be one woman on the planet.

Harding felt things shifting in his boxers that hadn't moved of their own accord in months. h.e.l.l, years, he admitted to himself. But, d.a.m.n, that voice could move mountains. He rolled himself upright, swinging his legs off the bed. "That you, Madison?" he growled redundantly, his gonads telling him exactly who it was.

"Mhmmm," she drawled. "Hope I haven't gotten you up too early?"

Jesus. Now's she's psychic. "It's 8am. And it's my first day off in two weeks. What do you think?" he muttered, sc.r.a.ping fingernails through itchy chin stubble.

She laughed a rolling s.e.xy chuckle that made him think of satin sheets. He morosely flicked a dead toenail clipping off the thinning polyester number he was sitting on and tried to concentrate on what the woman was saying.

"Sorry, mate," she said. "But I need your help. Again."

Harding immediately sat up straighter. "What's happened? Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds been after you again?"

"No, no, Ken, it's nothing like that. I just need a favor. A big one," Jo said. "I'm not even sure you've got the pull to get it done for me."

"Try me," he said, reaching for his cigarettes. He lit up his first for the day as he listened while Jo told him about Naomi's arrest. "Jesus, she sounds like a pain in the a.r.s.e," he muttered at one point and he could almost hear Jo grinning.

"Oh, she is that," the skipper answered quietly. "What do you think, mate? Can you help us get them out of here without any charges being brought?"

Harding considered his options, taking a deep drag on the cigarette. "You're positive there's no hint of drugs on these three?" he asked.

"Positive," she answered quickly. "Just drunk and disorderly. Though I will admit they've all got a history with the stuff. Thankfully this time they just got tanked on gin and vodka."

"Okay," he said. "Look, I think I can get it done. Ya gotta give me an hour or so, though. The Commissioner gets cranky this hour of the morning. Leave it with me, okay?"

"Great, Ken, thanks." He could hear the relief in her voice. "You've got my cell phone number, yeah?"

Tattooed on the insides of my eyelids, baby. "Yeah, I've got it," he replied. "I'll call you as soon as I've got something organized. But you know it's going to be hard to keep this outta the newspapers. I can't do much about that."

"It already is. But at least her spin doctors can make some mileage if we can get them out of here unscathed."

Harding stubbed his b.u.t.t out in the overflowing ashtray next to his bed. He was a little puzzled. "I don't get it," he said. "I mean, apart from the fact they're clients, why do you give a s.h.i.t?" There was a pause on the other end of the phone and Harding pictured those gorgeous baby blues blinking as she came up with an answer. Sensational. He heard her sigh.

"It's for Cadie," she finally replied.

Aaah, the cute blonde. I should've known. What a waste of a couple of great looking sheilas. "Fair enough," he said gruffly. "I'll do what I can."

"Thanks, mate. Talk to you soon." She hung up.

Harding stood as he dropped the receiver back on the hook. With a grunt he pushed his hands behind his hips and arched, stretching out the kinks in his over laden backbone. He lumbered towards the bathroom, scratching himself as he walked.

Jesus, I look like something the cat puked up, he thought, staring at his reflection. Ah well. He picked his toothbrush up and scrubbed away for a couple of minutes. At least I look better than I feel. He walked back into the main room of his tiny, disorganized bed-sit. Okay, let's see who I can p.i.s.s off at this time of the morning, he thought as he reached once again for the phone. Anything for long, dark, and dangerous.

Jo looked around the room. The Americans had settled into a resigned silence and were scattered around the periphery. There wasn't a one of them who wasn't feeling the effects of a huge night of partying and it was starting to show on their faces.

Including mine, I'm sure, Jo thought wearily as the dull pounding at her temples forced its way to the forefront of her awareness. With gritted teeth she pushed it back again. G.o.d I hope Jen is making us all a big fried breakfast. We are so going to need it. She glanced over to where Cadie was sitting, her head resting back against the wall. Is she asleep? Her question was answered when green eyes blinked open and locked onto hers instantly. I guess not. Jo smiled, receiving an answering grin. How do we do that, I wonder?

Any further thought was interrupted by her cell phone. Jo looked down at her watch as she flipped the phone open. Forty minutes. Not bad.

"Madison," she said.

"It's done," she heard Harding say. "Your little mate behind the desk there should start getting phone calls any minute now." Sure enough the phone on the counter loudly announced itself and the custody sergeant reached for it.

"From your mouth to G.o.d's ear, Harding," Jo muttered. "I owe you one, mate. Another one."

"Forget it," he replied. "Just get yourself down here in a couple of months when that slime ball Marco is fit enough to put on trial."

"Count on it," she promised. "How is he, by the way?"

"He's talking again," Harding said. "Of course he's talking in a falsetto since you ripped his nuts off." Jo winced as she listened to the cop's rough laughter, and she caught Cadie's eye. "But he won't be walking around for a while yet. I'll call you when the court dates are set."

"Okay, Ken," she said. "Thanks again, mate." She tucked the phone back into its holster and wandered over to the empty seat next to Cadie.

"Bad news?" Cadie asked quietly. "I saw you wincing before," she explained at Jo's quizzical look.

"Oh. No, not at all, actually." She nodded over at the custody sergeant who was still on the phone, his forehead creased into a frown. "In fact, I think our friend over there is just getting the word now." She looked down at Cadie and smiled. "It's going to be okay, love," she whispered.

"Oh, I adore you," Cadie replied, just as quietly. She wrapped a hand around Jo's bicep and squeezed gratefully. "So what was the wince for, Miss Miracle Worker?"

Jo chuckled. "Just an update on Marco's medical condition." That earned her another empathetic squeeze. "And I'm not the miracle worker. Harding got it done."

"Remind me to send him a bunch of flowers," Cadie murmured, watching as the desk sergeant hung up the phone and disappeared out the door to another part of the police station.

"He'd appreciate a carton of cigarettes and a bottle of scotch more," replied Jo. She leaned sideways, intending to drop a kiss into the soft, gold locks that were so close. But a sudden realization that Sarah was watching them with a curious expression on her face brought her up short. Whoa, Jo-Jo, she thought. Remember where you are. She's not yours to kiss.

"I want to thank him, not contribute to his early death, Jo-Jo," the blonde replied with a smile, for once oblivious to the thoughts crossing the skipper's mind. She glanced up, surprised to find a very guarded expression clouding Jo's usually open face. "What is it?" she asked.

"Hon, you might want to let go of my arm," the taller woman whispered. "The children are watching."

"Ugh," grunted Cadie, sliding her hand away from the warmth of the inside of Jo's arm. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Jo said. "I think that's going to be the least of our worries for the next few hours or so."

"Oh gee, thanks, that's rea.s.suring." The blonde laughed.

They were saved from further anxious moments by the return of the charge sergeant who walked through into their part of the room. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said. "I've been informed by my superior officer that there will be no charges brought against the three ladies and they are free to leave." Sighs of relief and subdued cheers rang around the room. "I reckon you don't want to be taking them out through the front door, so if you'd like to follow me, I can let you all out the back way."

Toby leapt to his feet. "Okay, here's what we're going to do," he said. "Jason and I are going out to give the press a statement. That will give you all a chance to get back to the boat without having the hacks on your heels. Leave us a buggy and we'll catch up with you as soon as we can."

Jo nodded and stood. "Sounds like a plan," she said. She turned and followed Therese and Sarah through to the part of the police station that housed the overnight holding cells. She felt Cadie at her back. The sooner we get out of here, the better, Jo thought, the smells and sounds of the jail bringing back some distant memories she would rather forget.

A rea.s.suring hand on her back let her know Cadie was making a good guess about her thought processes and she couldn't help but smile.

They rounded a corner and there sat Naomi, Larissa, and Kelli. Cadie and Jo moved rapidly away from each other.

The blonde warily approached her partner, who sat in a corner of the room, her expression as dark and threatening as any she'd ever seen. Naomi was unkempt and clearly feeling very much the worse for wear. Handle with care, Cadie thought to herself. Apart from anything else, a humiliated Naomi is a dangerous Naomi. "Hi, Nay," she finally said.

Slowly the senator pushed herself up out of her seat. She glowered at Cadie with an intense fury that forced the blonde backwards a step. Jo felt the hairs at the back of her neck rise and she made a move towards the pair, stopped only by a quick look from Cadie.

"Where the f.u.c.k were you?" Naomi growled, low and soft. "You were supposed to be with me, and then you were gone. None of this would have happened if you'd just stayed where you were supposed to stay. Where..." She moved closer to Cadie. "...the f.u.c.k..."

Jo felt herself rock onto the b.a.l.l.s of her feet.