The buzzer sounded. Stacy stood. "That'll be Mac."

"I don't want to talk to him. I don't feel well."

"A brief statement. A few questions."

Stacy let Mac in. Another detective was with him. Liberman, she remembered.

Mac crossed to her; she saw sympathy in his gaze. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened this

morning and how you came upon the jacket, gloves and hat."

She nodded and began, tone wooden. She explained the order of events, leaving out all mention of going to Stacy's and finding the file.

"The bin was locked?"

"Yes. I found the key under the rubber mat on its top."

"Was that unusual? To find it locked?"

"Yes. Ted and I don't keep..." Her words trailed off.

Mac looked at Liberman in question. The other detective shook his head. "That's good for now, Jane.

We may have some more questions later."

She nodded and excused herself, refusing Stacy's offer to accompany her. She called Ranger and headed up the stairs, aware of the three detectives' gazes on her back. A p.r.i.c.kle of awareness slid down her spine, like a chill wind. She glanced back. None of the three were watching her, but talking quietly among themselves.

Had the sensation been her imagination? she wondered. Or a premonition?

She jogged the rest of the way up the stairs, closed and locked the door behind her.

SIXTY-TWO.

Thursday, November 13, 2003

3:15 p.m.

When Stacy returned to the studio, only Mac remained. "Where's Liberman?" she asked.

"Bagged the items and headed for HQ."

"Good." She crossed to him, moved in his arms. He held her against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Stacy."

"Me, too."

She breathed deeply, letting his scent fill her head. Acknowledging that she felt safe in his arms. And G.o.d

help her, cared for.

She forced herself to move back. "I feel like such an idiot. You told me...the captain did, too. The evidence, for G.o.d's sake. But I refused to see."

"You were emotionally involved. And no wonder, he's your sister's husband."

She shook her head. "A part of me still can't believe it. Why, Mac? He had everything."

He trailed a finger over the curve of her cheek. "Obviously, he wanted more. Some people," he

murmured, "will do anything for money. You should know that, Stacy."

"I suppose I should. It comes with the job, right?"

"Right." He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth, then took a step away. "I need to get back. You

coming?"

"I'm right behind you. Though I'm not looking forward to facing the captain."

"It'll be all right. Happily ever after."

"Promise?"

He kissed her again. "You bet, babe."

Stacy smiled. "I'm going to check on Jane, make certain she's okay, then I'll be in."

She watched him go, then went upstairs. As she climbed the creaking metal steps, she thought of Mac,

his words. That she was getting her happily-ever-after at the expense of Jane's. It made her feel bad. She

was sorry.

Stacy reached Jane's bedroom. Her sister lay on her side, back toward the door. Stacy called her name softly. Ranger, on the floor beside the bed, opened one eye and looked at her. Jane didn't move.

She shifted her gaze. A bottle of pills and a half empty gla.s.s of water sat on the nightstand. She crossed the room, picked up the vial and checked it.

Ambien. The sleep medication the doctor prescribed after Ian's arrest.

Frightened, she shook out the pink oval tablets and counted them. According to the bottle's label, the doctor had prescribed thirty, ten milligram tablets. Twenty-five were left and she was certain Jane had mentioned having taken them at least once before.

Only partially relieved, she gazed at her sister's still form. She had lost a baby and a dear friend, now it

seemed certain her husband would be convicted of murder. Just how devastated was she?

Jane had been through worse than this. She was strong. A survivor. People like Jane didn't swallow a bottle of pills. They fought back.

She couldn 't take the chance she was wrong.

She pocketed the Ambien and went in search of the portable phone. She found it in the foyer and dialed

Dave. She got his machine. "Dave, hi. It's Stacy. Could you call me as soon as you get this? It's about Jane."

He picked up. "Stacy? What's wrong?"

She quickly explained about the sleeping pills. "I don't think she'll do anything crazy, but I hesitate to

leave her alone. Could you sit with her for a few hours?"

"Jane hates medications," he said. "What brought this on?"

Stacy thought she heard Jane stirring. "Hold on a second." She crossed to the bedroom door. Her sister

didn't appear to have moved.

Stacy lowered her voice. "I can't go into it right now. Long story short, she's in a really bad place and I'm

worried about leaving her alone. But I have to check in at work."

Dave was silent a moment, as if a.s.sessing his day. "I'm finishing with a patient now and have another waiting. I could be there in, say, an hour fifteen. Will that help?"

"Immensely. Thanks, Dave. What would we do without you?"

Seventy-five minutes later, Dave pulled up in front of Jane's building. Stacy had been watching from the front window and hurried out to the street to meet him. Her captain had called; he wanted her downtown, ASAP.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking shaken.

"I can't explain everything now, just that we found some d.a.m.ning physical evidence of Ian's guilt and...I'll tell you everything later. Okay?"

He agreed it was and she hurried to her vehicle. Moments later she checked her rearview mirror as she pulled away from the curb. Dave had already disappeared inside. He loved Jane. Maybe after her sister had a chance to heal, he and Jane would have a chance of happiness together.

She hoped so. Hoped it with all her heart.

SIXTY-THREE Thursday, November 13, 2003 4:30 p.m.

Stacy made headquarters in good time. She headed up to the division and collected her messages.

"Captain available?" she asked Kitty.

"Nope." The young woman snapped her gum. "He's in with Williams and Cooper from Internal Affairs."

A visit from that quarter was never good news.

Could the subject of today's discussion could be her?