He was right. She had fallen in line with his plans because she had so desperately wanted to. She had waited so long for a man like him. The man she had believed him to be.

"Let her go," she said evenly. "Step away slowly. Drop your weapon."

"Don't be stupid, Stacy. Think about this. We can be together. Live like Dallas royalty."

"We could, Mac. But there's a down side. I'd be living like royalty with a snake. Doesn't sound too appealing."

"The money should have been half yours, anyway. Jane always got everything, didn't she? All the money. All the attention. Then she even got the guy. The one you found. The one you wanted."

He delivered the words with a triumphant smirk. The joke was on him. They had no effect on her. Her feelings of bitterness, jealousy and resentment over Jane's good fortune were gone.

"Some people will do anything for money. Isn't that what you said? Commit murder. Send an innocent man to death. Romance a lonely lady. Thing is, Mac, I didn't realize you were talking about yourself."

"No apologies. But don't feel too bad, babe. It wasn't all business. You're an attractive woman and a d.a.m.n fine lay. We could have a good time. A lot of laughs."

"You're right," she agreed. "And I insist on having the last one." With her free hand, she went for her phone, brought it to her ear. "You get all that, Captain?"

Mac's expression went slack with surprise, then tightened with fury. He released Jane, went for his gun. Stacy dropped the phone and fired. She caught him in the chest before he had even drawn his weapon. She fired again continuously, emptying her magazine into him.

The gun slipped from his fingers, his expression curiously blank- as if the life inside him had expired long ago. If it had ever existed.

He went down. Stacy stared at him a moment, then stepped over his still form to get to her sister's side. She knelt beside her. "You okay?" she asked.

Jane tried to speak. She managed to get one word out, a painful-sounding croak. "Ranger-"

"We'll take care of him. Save your voice." She saw that her sister's throat was badly bruised, the clear outline of the cord circled her neck like a purple choker.

Mac could have crushed Jane's esophagus. One more minute and she would have died. Five more and he might have gotten away with it. Would he have been able to talk her into his version of the truth?

Stacy honestly didn 't know. She would have wanted to believe him.

Hands shaking, she retrieved her phone. "You still there, Captain?"

"You bet your a.s.s, I'm still here. What the h.e.l.l just went down?"

"McPherson's dead," she said flatly. "Canine unit in need of medical care."

"Done." She heard him shout the order for an ambulance.

You've got some explaining to do, Detective Killian."

As she agreed, a half a dozen DPD officers burst through the door. "The cavalry's here," she said.

"It's about time," he responded. "Ask them what took them so long."

"Will do. But it'll have to wait. I'll call you back."

She hung up on her captain and handed the phone to Jane. "Call Ian's lawyer. Your husband's coming

home."

EPILOGUE.

Sat.u.r.day, March 20, 2004

10:45 p.m.

Jane sat in her dark screening room, gaze fixed on the flickering black-and-white image on the video screen.

"Tell me what you're afraid of, Joyce. When you're alone with your thoughts, who's the monster? "

Jane worked to focus on the woman's answer. She found her mind wandering, anyway. Truth was,

recent events had dimmed the sense of urgency she had once had for her work. For its message. She didn't yet know where her thoughts and feelings would lead her, she simply knew that they would.

And that she would trust them.

Trust. She thought of Stacy. Her sister had stopped by to see her this afternoon; she had relayed some shocking news.

She had quit her job with the DPD. She'd had enough of the blood and death, she wanted to start fresh. She was thinking about going back to school and had applied to several graduate programs out of state. Jane had been stunned. She had begged Stacy to reconsider. She couldn't move away now, not now, after they had finally found each other.

Stacy had remained firm in her decision.

"No one can change my life but me, Jane. And I'm going to do Ranger limped into the screening room, dog tags jangling. Mac's bullet had ripped into his shoulder,

damaging his radial nerve, leaving him with a noticeable limp. A permanent reminder of that awful time-and his unwavering loyalty. Jane would be dead if he hadn't worked the cane latch on his kennel free.

He crossed to her and laid his big, ugly head in her lap. "My hero," she said, bending her face to his. The dog seemed to smile and gave her a big, sloppy kiss.

"I'm thinking you love that dog way more than you do me."

She lifted her gaze. Ian stood in the doorway behind her, hands behind his back. She smiled. "He saved my life."

"And mine, too."

A terrifying What if? filled her head. She pushed it out. Fear could only control her if she allowed it to.

Only she could give it life, power. ever again. She would probably never know who had driven the boat that day, would probably never know if had hit her on purpose. And it didn't matter.

"Nothing but prime for him," she said. "From now on. Period."

"No arguments from me, love." He motioned to the screen. "How's the work?"

"Okay."

They exchanged a long glance. He understood. They had both been changed by the events of this past

fall. In ways deeper than the lines around his eyes or the threads of gray in her dark hair.

Their relationship had been changed.

They had weathered the hurts caused by her doubts and his lies, their guilt and regrets. They had mourned their losses together: that of their unborn child; the marriage they had had before Mac had set his plan into motion. Their innocence.

Perhaps that last loss had been the worst-they had gone places they'd never dreamed of, even in their

worst nightmares.

In the end it had made them stronger-their marriage stronger. No one would ever come between them again.

She stood and crossed to him. Wrapped her arms around his middle and rested a cheek against his chest. The cold clung to him and she tipped her head back to meet his eyes. "You've been outside."

"I walked Ranger."

"Did you? He appears to be here, with me." She c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "Are you hiding something from

me, Dr. Westbrook?"

"Guilty as charged, Mrs. Westbrook." He smiled wickedly and produced a white-and-pink bag from behind his back. "Pistachio-almond fudge ice cream. Just what the baby ordered."

END.