Was that what they were making-a home? she wondered, as she hurried into thebedroom to brush her hair. The idea both tempted and terrified, * * *

Grady slipped the padlock from the storage shed and slid the door open. Athousand memories rushed at him along with the smell of boat gas and mustycanvas. Jimmy hesitated on the threshold, his body a little tense, his eyesbright with curiosity.

"It stinks in here," he grumbled, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up his nose.

Grady drew in a satisfying lungful and savored before releasing it. "Smellslike freedom to me."

Jimmy looked up, a look of cautious interest on his face. Grady could almosthear the echoes of a three-year-old's chatter in the silent look, and he mourned the lost years.

"Why?" Jimmy asked finally.

"When I was a kid, I'd started looking forward to the last day of schoolalong about the time that new-book smell wore off, which was usually the endof September."

He glanced around at the stuff piled up over the years. Mismatched waterskis, water toys, a broken lawn chair. The tube from a tractor tire he andRiaused to share. Tonight he'd do his best to talk her into taking a moonlightswim, he decided.

So far he and Jimmy had been the only ones in the water. While Jim had beensearching the sandy bottom for catfish, Grady had been pumping him for hintsabout the life he'd led during the past three years.

Yeah, he'd had a pool at his house. A lot bigger than his best bud Jeremy's.

So why couldn't the boy swim?

Naw, he didn't go to a dumb school 'cause Moira was a real good teacher.

So how come he didn't want to talk about his favorite subjects.

No, they weren't his real parents, but they'd been real good to him. Thebest.

He never had to make his bed or clean his room or eat anything he didn't like.

"What's that?" Jimmy asked, pointing.

"Croquet set."

Grady grinned at the thought of winning a game withRia . Hardin rules saidthat the winner got to claim a prize. He thought of that inner tube that heldtwo and a lakeful of water that was bathtub warm. As he recalled, she'dclimaxed twice the last time they'd gone skinny-dipping.

He felt his body stir and reminded himself he'd never lost a game yet.

"You ever play?" he asked, watching Jimmy trail his fingers over the malletheads.

"Uh-uh." He kicked the stand with the toe of his sneaker. "Lance is gonna teach me to play golf next time we go to Palm Springs."

"Is that something you do often, go to Palm Springs?"

"Sometimes."

Grady grabbed the red mallet that Jimmy used to drag around behind him ashe'd followed his dad around the court and handed it to the boy. "Try the feelof this one," he suggested, deliberately keeping his tone offhand. "Maybe thisafternoon we can set up the court."

He moved aside the lawn edger and leaned down to open the large wooden-cruisebox. Two flags lay atop a collection of life preservers. He took out the Starsand Stripes and started to close the lid, only to stop when Jimmy askedsuddenly, "What's that gold thing?"

"Purdue banner. Here, hold this and I'll show you." He handed his son theflag before holding up the banner so that Jim could see the familiarBoilermaker logo.

His son seemed less than impressed. "What's Purdue?"

"It's a college in West Lafayette. A pretty famous place, actually,especially in these parts. Your mom and just about everyone else in our familywent there."

Jim took a moment to work that through in his mind. "So did you go there,too?" he asked finally.

Grady took in a slow breath. He'd lost track of the times he'd been askedthat same question over the years. It never failed to jab his pride.

"I tried, but I couldn't make the entrance requirements."

"What's that mean, they wouldn't let you come in, like in the movies?"

"In a way." He heard a speedboat scream by and glanced through the dustywindow at the violent ripples rushing toward the sandy beach. "Entrancerequirements are mostly a set of rules they have about who they want and don'twant."

"And they didn't want you?"

Grady nearly groaned at his son's obvious disappointment. "Nope. But I got mea real polite letter with a seal and everything."

"How comethey didn't want you?"

Persistent little cuss, his son. "I have a problem reading, which means Ihave to find other ways of learning things." He folded the pennant into a neatsquare before stowing it away. "I can usually figure things out, but it takesme a long time sometimes."

"Me, too, sometimes." Jimmy's gaze slid from his. Something in the angle ofthe boy's head had his gut tightening. "Guess people mighta made fun of you onaccount of that."

"Some did, yeah-till I got old enough to make them pay. Then they stopped."

Jimmy looked intrigued. "Did you shoot 'em?"

"Nope. Punched 'em. My brothers mostly. And a few of their big-mouthedfriends."

Jimmy kicked the croquet set again. Hard. One shoulder hunched, then theother. He dropped his gaze.

"I did what you said. You know, like for the bet?"

Grady had to grab a minute to catch up. "You mean callingRia Mom?"

He nodded, and his hair flopped. "I thought, since it was what you wanted andall, it was supposed to be a good thing. I mean, you're all the time trying tomake her laugh and watching her to make sure she's not upset and all."

Grady was d.a.m.n near speechless, blown away by the kid's ability to read him."You're right. It's supposed to be a good thing." He hesitated, then squatteddown to bring his gaze closer to Jim's. "Are you saying it wasn't?"

Jimmy rubbed his ear with a hunched shoulder. He looked miserably unhappy anda little scared, like maybe he was worried about what Grady was going to donext. He didn't want to think about another man punishing his son, especiallya man with big hands like frigging Lance's.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, son, but ifsomething's bothering you, I might be able to help."

Jimmy didn't look impressed, and Grady bit off a sigh. "I admit I don't haveall the answers. Heck, sometimes I think I was sleeping-in the morning theLord pa.s.sed out sense, but I'd sure give it my best shot."

Jimmy rubbed his ear again, then gradually lowered his shoulder. Grady waitedpatiently while the boy worked it through. He had all day if that's how longit took. Finally Jimmy aimed another kick at the croquet set and startedtalking. "She got this funny look on her face, and then she started bawling."

Grady let out the relief in a long breath. "Remember what I told you rightbefore we knocked on Mom's door that first night?"

Jimmy slanted him a wary look. "Some."

"Women, especially moms, sometimes cry when they're happy, too. Yeah, I know,it doesn't make much sense, but it happens."

"You think that's what she was doing. Being happy?"

"I think it's a good bet." He reached up to ruffle the unruly hair that he'dpa.s.sed down to his boy. "It's not easy for a guy to understand why women dowhat they do sometimes, especially that crying thing, but when a guy finds alady as special as your mom, well, he's willing to do a whole bunch oftrying."

Jimmy let out a noisy sigh that was almost comical. "Does that mean it's okayif I call her that again?"

"Veryokay," Grady said with a grin that felt d.a.m.ned wobbly at the edges. "AndI'mvery proud of you for keeping your word and paying off your bet."

His son flushed with pleasure. Grady wanted desperately to hug him, but theinstinct honed over a lot of years told him it was too soon. So he took the SWAT cap from his own head and slipped it on Jimmy's, brim backward.

"C'mon, let's go hoist the flag. And then if we ask real nice, Mom might giveus a coupla hunks of that fudge she was cooking up when I got home."

The sun was setting over the lake, turning the water to flame. The three ofthem had eaten outside at the picnic table, then taken a boat ride beforetackling the dishes. Falling easily into old habits,Ria washed and Grady driedwhile Jimmy practiced hitting croquet b.a.l.l.s through the wickets Grady had setup on the lawn facing the lake. Every few minutesRia would lean close to thekitchen window and look out.

The yard had been fenced years earlier to keep the youngest of the Hardinssafe. The latch on the gate was not only over the boy's reach, but locked. Thefence itself was sound. He'd walked it earlier to be sure and told her twice that it would take a tank to break through.

Still she checked.

Though she professed to hate firearms in the home, she'd packed the Walther.380 he'd taught her to shoot on their honeymoon. It was now on the top shelfof the master bedroom closet. It was also loaded.

"Did Flynn say how he'd found Monk's ex-wife?" she asked as she rinsed thelast of the cups.

"Nope. Just that she'd agreed to see him." Grady gave the dinner plateanother swipe before returning it to the cupboard. All through the meal he'dwaited for Jim to call her "Mom." But the boy had said almost nothing.

Taking an extra loop around his impatience, he'd looked forward to the momenthe and Ree were alone, positive she, too, was just waiting for privacy beforesharing her joy.

"When I called the Center to give Kate and Tova the number of your cellphone, Kate said that Brenda had left a message on my voice mail, asking me tocall her back. I left a message on her machine, but so far I haven't heardfrom her."

Grady reached for the cup she'd just upended in he drainer. "If there's faultin the thing, Flynn will find it."

"I know. That's why I asked him to look into it."

She checked on Jimmy, smiling a little at something she saw. The smile fadedquickly, however, as her brow puckered. "If Monk did murder that poor littlebaby in her own bed and Brenda knows it, I have to believe it's tearing herapart inside."

"Maybe. Or maybe she handed him the pillow."

She winced, and he hated himself for not guarding his tongue with greater care.

"No, I'm sure she'd never harm a child."

"Keeping silent hurts as much as a fist sometimes, Ree," he said, hanging themug from a hook in the cupboard.

"You're right, of course. It's just that I hate to think I've misjudged her."

"It happens."

Frowning thoughtfully,Ria scrubbed down the counter, then wrung the dishclothdry before hanging it from the faucet. "I can't help wondering about thatwoman. Moira."

Grady plucked a gla.s.s from the dish drainer. "What about her, honey?"

"Do you think she really came to love Jimmy or do you think she just put upwith him because of the money?"

Grady took his time putting away the gla.s.s. "If that woman had an ounce ofmaternal blood in her veins, I'll put on a tutu and walk the fifty-yard lineduring the Purdue Notre Dame game this September."

Ria'smouth twitched, but the shadows in her eyes only shifted aside for amoment, returning full force when her expression sobered.

"Grady, I know I overreacted this morning. I know you'd never let anyone getto Jimmy again."

The words were right. It was the way her gaze slid from his that had his guttwisting hot. "We both overreacted, honey. It's going to take time for us torelax again."

"I realize that, but still, it started me thinking..." She broke off to closethe window over the sink. It stuck, and she had to give it a hefty shove whichmade her f.a.n.n.y wiggle enticingly. Though he managed to keep the groan inside,his hormones drop-kicked him dead center.

"What if Rustakov decides to steal our baby again?" she asked when she wa.s.sure they wouldn't be overheard.

"b.a.s.t.a.r.d's dead, Ree." He concentrated on draping the damp towel over theedge of the counter to dry.

She picked up the gla.s.s of wine he'd poured her before they'd tackled thedishes, then put it down again without taking a sip. "How do you know? Are yousure? Maybe your source was wrong."

"This source doesn't make mistakes."

"Did ... did you kill him?"

"No." It wasn't for lack of trying, but no one knew that but a couple ofhard-eyed contacts in Washington. Guys with kids of their own willing togrease a few palms, make a few phone calls in a good cause.

"He was blown away by the head of a rival cartel on the steps of his villaoverlooking the Black Sea," he told her when he realized the anxious lookhadn't quite faded from her eyes.

"I'm glad he's dead,"Ria said, downing a huge swallow of wine. "I hope hedied a horrible death."

It had been that and more. It also hadn't been quick. At the time Grady hadfelt only fury that his best link to his son had been snuffed out.

"He can't hurt you anymore, sweetheart." He said the words quietly, but theknowledge of his own part in her suffering was like acid against his throat.Someday, maybe, she would forgive him. He doubted he would ever forgivehimself.

"I hated him." She took another sip. Though she seemed calm enough, he caughtthe ripples in the wine and realized her hand wasn't as steady as it shouldbe. "He was a horrible man."

"He's gone,"hesaid very quietly, even though he doubted she heard. His bravelady was at the end of her emotional rope. He'd seen the signs often enough.In fellow officers shaken by a particularly b.l.o.o.d.y crime scene. In Kale whenhis partner had taken a bullet meant for him. In himself after Jimmy had beens.n.a.t.c.hed.

Days of stuffing her feelings deep inside. Months of denying emotions thathad the power to destroy until finally the ability to feel was numbed.

"I wanted to kill him myself," she said in a strained tone he'd heard onlyonce before-on the night she'd asked him to move out.

"I know, honey."