Clark merely smiled. "Of course."

"What else have you got cooking, Lieutenant?" Henry asked.

* 137 *

RADCLY fFE Rebecca lifted her shoulder. "We're exploring a number of avenues, sir."

A icker of amus.e.m.e.nt crossed Henry's face and was quickly gone. "Then I'll expect you to keep me apprised of your progress along those lines."

"Of course," Rebecca replied. With a nod to Clark, she moved toward the door, Sloan and Watts close behind. Once outside, with the door rmly closed behind them, she muttered, "Let's get out of here."

"I'll be in the ESU," Sloan snapped and strode away.

Watts looked after her and grunted. "She's gonna snap Clark in two someday."

"We need to see she doesn't," Rebecca said quietly.

"Us and whose army?"

"She'll hold," Rebecca said, hoping that she was right.

* 138 *

Justice Served

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

You look like you're walking more easily," Catherine observed as Mitch.e.l.l crossed the room to her customary seat in the chair opposite Catherine's desk. "How's the leg doing?"

"It's ne. Almost good as new."

Even had she not been trained to hear the unspoken words and decipher the subtle signals that people telegraphed without meaning to, Catherine would have been hard-pressed to miss Mitch.e.l.l's distress.

The normally strong planes of her face were hollow and drawn, her vibrant deep blue eyes shadowed and dull. Even the timbre of her voice rang with pain.

"You'll be seeing Dr. Torveau for another evaluation tomorrow?"

Mitch.e.l.l nodded, almost too weary to speak. She drew a breath and forced herself to deal with the one issue that really mattered. "I need the paperwork lled out for the lieutenant. About my duty status."

"Yes, I know." Catherine pushed her chair back a few inches from her desk and crossed her legs, relaxed but attentive. With a gentle smile, she asked, "I take it you're ready to return?"

"De nitely. I'm going stir-crazy."

"But you've been keeping busy, correct? Working with Jason?"

Again, Mitch.e.l.l signaled a.s.sent with a twitch of her shoulder.

"Dellon," Catherine said quietly. "Want to tell me what's going on?"

Mitch.e.l.l considered her options, which were few-that is, in addition to the truth. Denial, lying, or evasion. She contemplated those choices. Perhaps if it had been the rst time she'd been in this situation with Catherine Rawlings, she wouldn't even have hesitated.

She would have said "nothing." Things had changed, and she hadn't even noticed. It was harder for her to keep what bothered her inside.

It was harder for her to keep people on the outside. Part of that was a * 139 *

RADCLY fFE result of the support she had gotten the rst time she'd been forced into therapy with Catherine. Despite her initial discomfort and anger at her powerlessness, she'd found understanding and an unexpected surcease from pain when she'd shared her feelings.

And then there was Sandy.

Sandy, who had managed to step over, circ.u.mnavigate, or simply crash through every barrier she'd imposed, with a single sharp word or tender glance. Last night-last night all she'd wanted was for Sandy to keep touching her, because with Sandy inside her, there was no room for anything else. Mitch.e.l.l took a shuddering breath.

"I was forced to resign my commission in the Army."

Although the revelation was completely unexpected, Catherine's expression indicated only compa.s.sionate interest and none of her surprise. "Forced. So it wasn't voluntary?"

"In theory, I had a choice. It was simple-take an honorable discharge or be court-martialed." Mitch.e.l.l laughed hollowly and shook her head. "Some choice."

"What were the circ.u.mstances?"

Mitch.e.l.l rubbed her face vigorously with both hands and then dropped her arms back to the armrests, her ngers limp. "I a.s.saulted a superior of cer."

"Male or female?"

"A man."

"a.s.saulted how?"

"I punched him. Hard enough to put him in the hospital overnight."

"Tell me how that came about." Catherine had seen Mitch.e.l.l with Rebecca and knew how deeply ingrained her respect for hierarchical authority was. Whatever had prompted her to break rank in such an excessive fashion must have been extreme.

"He was trying to...he forced himself...on a woman."

"You stopped a rape?" Catherine asked incredulously. "And for that, you were threatened with court-martial?"

"It wasn't a rape...yet. He was just..." Mitch.e.l.l swallowed, the memory still so clear. Her stomach churned with rage and revulsion, just as it had that night. "He was just touching her." He had his hands on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his mouth on her neck. He was pressing himself into her.

* 140 *

Justice Served "Against her will?"

Mitch.e.l.l nodded.

"Then I don't...I'm sorry. I don't understand," Catherine said intently. "Why were you at fault?"

"She was my lover."

Oh, Dellon. Catherine rose and walked around the desk to the chair beside Mitch.e.l.l's. She did not touch her, but angled in the seat so that she could look directly into Mitch.e.l.l's face. "Tell me about her."

v Laughing, Michael stepped out of the elevator, her arms lled with packages. Sandy followed close behind, saying, "I can't believe the look on her face when you told her I was your girlfriend."

"Well," Michael said, still irritated by the saleswoman's superior att.i.tude, "she was so clearly trying to eavesdrop on our conversation, I just thought I'd help her out."

"You were great..." Sandy trailed off as she noticed the woman standing across the room by the windows. "Hey, Sloan."

"Hi, Sandy."

Surprised, Michael deposited the spoils of their trip on the sofa and went to her lover. "Darling? I didn't expect to see you this afternoon."

Sloan smiled and kissed Michael's cheek. "Missed you last night."

Michael brushed her ngers through Sloan's hair, studying her lover's eyes. "Did you get any sleep at all?"

"A few hours."

From across the room, Sandy called, "I'm gonna unpack these and then take off for a while. I have some errands to run for Dell."

"Don't put them where she might see them," Michael said. "Use the closet down the hall."

Sandy grinned. "Gotcha."

Once alone, Michael twined her arms around Sloan's waist and settled against her. "Tired?"

"No." Sloan smoothed her hands up and down Michael's back, loving the feel of silk sliding over even softer skin, reveling in the warmth beneath her ngertips. When she'd left Henry's of ce and gone back to the ESU, she'd thought she'd be able to work. Thought the * 141 *

RADCLY fFE work would quench the anger, as it had so often in the past, but this time was different. She couldn't concentrate. All she'd been able to think about had been Michael-almost dying, and the horrible void that had lled her heart and mind for those few terrible hours. Unconsciously, she tightened her hold on the woman in her arms.

Michael leaned back enough to look into Sloan's eyes. There was turmoil in their depths. "What is it?"

Sloan rested her forehead against Michael's. "Nothing. I love you."

"What did you do this morning?" When no answer was forthcoming, Michael stroked the back of Sloan's neck and kissed her gently. "Sloan?"

"Just a brie ng with Rebecca and some of the hotshots in the department."

"Problems?"

Sloan shook her head.

"Progress, then?"

"Some." Sloan stiffened as she thought about what she had learned.

"I know who hurt you. At least who set it up."

Michael gasped. "How?"

"I tracked him through the computer system at Police Plaza."

"You know his name?"

"Yes."

"A police of cer?"

"An ADA. He's probably Mob connected-I don't know how just yet."

"Has he been arrested?"

"No." The bitterness in Sloan's voice lay heavy in the air.

Michael cupped her ngers along the sharp angle of Sloan's jaw, sensitive to the tight muscles quivering beneath the smooth, pale skin.

Now she understood why Sloan had come home in the middle of the day, in the middle of a big case. Something she would ordinarily never do. She was in pain. "You know what I'd like?"

"What?" Sloan's voice was husky, her hands terribly gentle as they rested in the soft curve above Michael's hips.

"I'd like to go to a movie, and then out somewhere for dinner, and then come home and spend the rest of the night in your arms." Her * 142 *

Justice Served ngers trembled faintly as she traced their tips over Sloan's mouth.

"Can we do that?"

Sloan buried her hands in Michael's soft golden hair before lowering her mouth to Michael's. After she'd lled her mind with the touch and taste of her lover, she whispered, "Yes. Always for you, yes."

v Catherine stepped from her car and turned at the sound of her name. Smiling, she leaned a hip against the fender and watched Rebecca coming toward her, a pizza box balanced in one hand. Under the streetlights, Rebecca's blond hair glinted. Her blazer swung open, revealing the long line of her chest and hips. Catherine's heart skipped a beat, and she felt the familiar tingling that always accompanied the rst sight of her lover.

"How did you know I'd be home now?" Catherine asked as Rebecca drew near.

"I'm a detective." At the sight of Catherine's raised brow, Rebecca grinned. "I called Joyce, and she told me when you'd be nished."

"Mmm. Good thinking." Catherine wrapped her arm around Rebecca's waist as they strolled down the sidewalk side by side. "You need to start wearing an overcoat, darling."

Rebecca kissed Catherine's cheek. "Why? Is it going to snow?"

"It feels cold enough to."

"I'm ne."

"Is there some rule about police of cers not wearing coats?"

"I don't like them. Too con ning."