"It's all right, darling," Michael murmured, smiling weakly. "I'm ne. It's ne. I was asleep when Rebecca came. I'm just not quite awake yet."

"You're not hurt? Not sick or anything?" Sloan pa.s.sed trembling ngers over Michael's cheek.

"No. I'm really all right." Michael stroked Sloan's arm, then covered Sloan's hand with her own, placing a eeting kiss on the palm.

With one protective arm still around Michael, Sloan looked from Rebecca to Watts in confusion. "Then what are you doing here?"

* 157 *

RADCLY fFE Rebecca was about to answer when a voice called from the other side of the room, "Hey, what's going on?"

Sandy shuf ed into view, Mitch.e.l.l's T-shirt brushing her thighs mere inches below her panties. Mitch.e.l.l was right behind her in a PPD T-shirt and boxers. "We heard voices. Problem?"

Watts took one look in Sandy's direction and immediately glanced away. "Jesus Christ. No one around here has any clothes on."

"What do you sleep in?" Sandy mumbled as she walked past him in the direction of the kitchen. "Ugh. No, never mind. Forget I asked."

"We needed to talk to you, so we thought we'd come by," Rebecca said to Sloan. "Where have you been?"

Mitch.e.l.l and Sandy returned, each holding a cup of coffee. Sandy curled up on the sofa on Michael's left. Mitch.e.l.l stood uncertainly midway between Sloan and Rebecca, who sat facing one another across the expanse of living room.

"What the f.u.c.k's going on?" Sloan said sharply.

"I need to know where you were tonight, from the time you left here until now." Rebecca's face was a blank, her voice still calm. But now, a core of steel crept into her tone.

"Same question goes. Why?"

"Just answer the question, Sloan," Watts urged in a surprisingly gentle voice.

Sloan jumped to her feet so rapidly that only Rebecca's quick re exes prevented her from being taken off guard. She surged upright just as quickly, so that she and Sloan ended up only a few feet apart.

"Do you think I don't recognize an interrogation when I hear one?" Sloan's body vibrated with fury. "You have the f.u.c.king b.a.l.l.s to come here in the middle of the night and question my lover?"

"Sloan," Michael said gently, standing as well. She placed her hand in the center of Sloan's back. "Darling, let Rebecca talk."

"She's done talking. She's leaving now. " Sloan took another step in Rebecca's direction, one hand raised as if to shove Rebecca aside.

"You don't want to do that, Sloan," Rebecca warned.

With surprising grace, Watts gained his feet and insinuated himself between them in one uid motion. His face was an inch from Sloan's, his voice like granite. "You dumb f.u.c.k. If she hadn't stood up for you tonight, you'd be downtown in a locked room with Clark right now. So * 158 *

Justice Served put your d.i.c.k away and answer the questions. Then we can all get back to work."

Sloan stared into his eyes for a long moment. Whatever she saw in their hard, cold depths must have extinguished the blaze of fury consuming her reason, because the tension in her broad shoulders eased visibly. She took a long breath and shifted her gaze to Rebecca's. "Are you going to tell me what this is about?"

"No. I'm going to ask questions, and you're going to answer."

Rebecca needed the interview to be by the book if it was to be credible to Avery Clark. She waited, wondering how far Sloan's tenuous trust would extend. Wondering, not for the rst time, what had happened during those lost years in Sloan's past.

"I was here until just after two," Sloan stated in a at, unin ected tone. "I woke up thinking about the computer traces that Jason and Mitch.e.l.l have been running. I haven't had a chance to go over any of their data because I've been so busy at Police Plaza with the...other situation. So I decided to have a quick look at what they've got. I dressed and went downstairs."

"Is there any way to verify that?"

"No. Michael was asleep."

"What about a time stamp on the security cameras?"

Sloan shook her head. "The internal cameras are turned off when we're home."

Mitch.e.l.l spoke up quietly. "There should be a record of when you logged on the system downstairs."

"Circ.u.mstantial," Sloan replied. "Doesn't prove it was me."

"It's corroboration," Rebecca said. "There are only a limited number of other people who it might've been." She scrutinized Michael, then Sandy and Mitch.e.l.l. "The only real possibility is Mitch.e.l.l."

"Dell was with me from one thirty on," Sandy said immediately.

"Did either of you hear Sloan leave?" Watts asked.

Mitch.e.l.l shook her head. Sandy replied, "We were talking, and then we were...busy."

Watts snorted.

"So we wouldn't have noticed," Sandy added sweetly as Mitch.e.l.l blushed.

Watts looked glum. "Perfect."

"All right." Rebecca made a notation in her notebook. "You were * 159 *

RADCLY fFE with Michael all night. Went to the of ces just after two." She turned to Mitch.e.l.l. "I want you to secure the computer logs. No one touches the system until you're done."

"Yes, ma'am," Mitch.e.l.l said smartly. "I'll get dressed and get right on it."

When Sloan opened her mouth to protest, Michael said softly, "Let Rebecca help you, darling."

Sloan reached for Michael's hand, nodding silently.

"You weren't here when we arrived at four fty- ve," Rebecca stated. "There was no answer. Where were you?"

"I went for a walk after a couple of hours of scanning the data."

Rebecca stared at her, and Sloan held her gaze un inchingly.

Finally, Rebecca said, "At four in the morning?"

Sloan shrugged. "I was awake. I was restless. I went for a walk."

"I don't suppose you have any way of proving that?" Watts interjected.

"Not real..." Sloan slid her hand into the front pocket of her jeans and extracted a crumpled slip of white paper. "I bought a cup of coffee at the diner at Third and Market around ten minutes to ve."

"Christ, she couldn't have been any closer to the scene and not tripped over one of us," Watts muttered.

Rebecca took the offered receipt, smoothed it out, and noted the time and date in her notebook. She then placed it carefully in the breast pocket of her shirt. "Is someone there going to remember you?"

"The waitress. Jenny. She knows me."

Watts looked skeptical. "She's a...what? Friend?"

Sloan gave him a withering look. "Acquaintance."

"There's nothing between the two of you that might bring her veri cation of your alibi into question?" Rebecca asked as discreetly as she could.

"No. Nothing. I've never even seen her outside of the diner."

"Good," Rebecca muttered.

"Look," Sloan said irritably. "I've told you where I was. Now tell me what's going on."

"George Beecher was murdered about three blocks from here sometime in the last six hours," Rebecca informed her, watching Sloan's face intently. As she had antic.i.p.ated, Sloan's expression never changed, * 160 *

Justice Served but her violet eyes darkened to nearly black. Rebecca was convinced she hadn't known.

"And you think I did it?" Sloan's voice was cool, her posture relaxed.

"No," Rebecca replied. "I don't."

"But Clark does," Sloan murmured, lling in the blanks.

"Darling, what is this all about?" Michael asked quietly. "Who is George Beecher?"

"No one."

"No one who someone thinks you might want to ki-" As if a sudden realization had struck, Michael faltered and looked from Sloan to Rebecca. "Is this the person who might have had something to do with my accident?"

"That's right." Rebecca was curious as to just how much Michael knew. Although she believed Sloan innocent, she was too much a cop not to examine all the evidence from every angle.

"Sloan would never have done anything to him," Michael said with absolute conviction.

"Why do you say that?" Rebecca asked.

"Because she promised me she wouldn't."

Watts laughed. "That will certainly go a long ways in court."

Michael turned solemn eyes to his. "If you don't understand why that matters, then you don't know Sloan very well, Detective Watts."

Watts blushed and actually ducked his head. "Sorry, ma'am."

At that moment, Mitch.e.l.l returned in black chinos and a navy shirt. "I'll head downstairs, Lieutenant."

"Good," Rebecca said. "Watts, go with her and take Sloan. Make sure you doc.u.ment everything that Mitch.e.l.l does." She turned to Sloan.

"You don't touch anything down there. If there's even the possibility that you've altered the data, none of it will help us. All I want you to do is walk them through as much as you can remember of what you did and when."

Sloan nodded. "Okay." She kissed Michael, murmured something that none of the others could hear, and followed Mitch.e.l.l and Watts to the elevator.

"I'm sorry to have upset you, Michael," Rebecca said.

Michael sank onto the sofa. "I understand."

Sandy leaned close. "You okay? How about I get some tea?"

* 161 *

RADCLY fFE "That would be lovely. Thank you," Michael replied gratefully, giving Sandy a small smile. Then, to Rebecca, she added, "Thank you for being so patient with her. I know you're trying to help her."

"I'm trying to do my job," Rebecca rejoined. "If I thought she were guilty, I would do the same."

"Yes, I know. And so does Sloan." Michael shook her head. "She'll realize you're on her side when she's feeling less threatened."

"Don't you mean p.i.s.sed off?"

"Oh, that's part of it, to be sure. But it's coming from something far more serious. She was betrayed, Rebecca, by someone she loved.

Abandoned by the system she believed in. Incarcerated by those she thought she could trust." Michael sighed. "She keeps expecting it to happen again."

"It won't," Rebecca said empathically. "You'll never betray her.

And I won't let anyone make her a scapegoat. I promise that no one will touch her."

"You didn't say 'if she's innocent.'"

"I didn't need to."

"Thank you, Rebecca."

"I'd better go-I want to catch that waitress at the diner. And I really am sorry to have put you through this."

Michael shook her head. "No, you needn't apologize. Not when you're helping Sloan."

"Thanks." Rebecca turned and started for the elevator. She stopped as Sandy approached with two mugs of tea. "Anything?"

"Maybe."

"I'll call you later."

Sandy shrugged. "Yeah, sure."