Roan, preoccupied with the case, was startled slightly at the appearance of her building. "Thanks." She opened the car door and withdrew from the vehicle.

"Good night, Roan." Echo revved the engine to depart.

Roan, engrossed in thought, almost ignored the good night. She spun around and waved at Echo. "Good, night, call me when you arrive home."

"Even if it's really late; I could be heading out now on a date." Echo couldn't help the slight jibe. Then rolling her eyes, Echo shook her head and pulled the car away from the sidewalk.

Roan watched her go with the words echoing around her, as she muttered under her breath, "She's going on a date? I guess I should have known. She wouldn't exactly dress like that for me." Roan frowned as she contemplated her own words. How did she feel about that? Like c.r.a.p. She knew that something had changed between them. It was subtle, but it was a change. What it was for the life of her, she couldn't fathom, and at the moment, she needed all of her attention for the Thompson case. The provocative question was, should she call her uncle with the update on the case?

Echo did as requested and called Roan soon after she entered her apartment. The conversation was brief, and Echo chalked that up to Roan being otherwise preoccupied with the case. Although frustration and a kernel of anger at Roan's indifference irked Echo, she accepted the coldness of the call as being her fault. She'd been the one to persuade Roan to take the case, so why should she be jealous that her dead friend was having more attention lavished on her than she was? The irony of it all made her laugh aloud.

Looking around her apartment, she felt the calming effect of her decorative prowess enfold her. She kicked off her shoes and sank into the red leather armchair she loved. As she did, she reflected what her taste and Roan's would be like if they lived together-eclectic.

Then a sobering thought caused her to frown. She was a.s.suming that Roan might be gay. There was no outward evidence that she was. "Except when she looks at me, I know she feels something. I could, of course, be laboring under a false sense of hope, which wouldn't be the first time and certainly not the last." She shook her head at the absurdity of talking to herself.

She stood and checked the clock. It was almost eleven and she felt drained. She glanced down at her dress. "Well, that was a hundred dollars I could have spent on something more practical. I wonder if there's a manual out there on how to get a girl interested in me for keeps. Here I go talking to myself again...darn, I'm getting too old for this."

She locked her door and entered her bedroom, where she keyed in the code to set the alarm for the rest of the apartment. The fluffy pink bedroom accessories and the modern white furniture greeted her. "When was the last time I had a meaningful s.e.xual relationship?" With a resigned sigh, she walked to the bathroom and said one word in answer to the question she posed. "Never."

Her thoughts slid to Karen. Over the years, they'd slipped into an easygoing relationship. They had loved each other, she knew that, but being in love-no, she now knew what it was to be in love. What she felt for Karen had never been anything like the roller coaster she was going through emotionally with Roan.

Life was a real heartbreaker as it dawned on her that she was in love with Roan Keating.

Chapter Fourteen.

Roan paced her uncle's outer office, and when the man behind the desk gave her several looks, she ground her teeth. Screw him, she thought, as he cleared his throat quietly at every turn she made.

Robert Douglas had worked with her uncle for ten years. He had been a clerical aide to her grand-father before he died of a heart attack at his desk while on the job. Roan was fourteen at the time.

As she grew older, Douglas had tried to persuade her to go out with him on several occasions when she had a meeting with her uncle. Of course, those meetings always ended in an argument, and Roan would storm out of the office. Her last rebuff had been extremely caustic and he ceased asking her out. Since that time, he'd stoked the fire more than once in the embittered battle between uncle and niece.

Douglas seemed to have enough of the pacing. "He's going to be at least another fifteen minutes, Lieutenant. If this room gives you claustrophobia, why don't you get yourself a cup of coffee or take a walk?"

Roan curled her lip. She didn't like him. He was a slime ball. She cla.s.sified him as someone you would never take home to meet the parents unless you were sc.r.a.ping the bottom of the barrel and someone had a gun to your head. She had a physical abhorrence for the man. "I'll wait."

She knew the clipped words angered the mild-mannered man.

It was hardly rocket science as to why she and her uncle didn't get along. Roan knew her manner was brash and cold; her uncle, in complete contrast, was warm and enthusiastic. However, she heard the rumor mill. Her uncle's enthusiasm manifested itself mainly with women...particularly the young ones. He liked to flirt. There had been rumors that rattled the doors now and again that his preference was for very young women, but that had only been rumor. Besides, he was divorced, so there were no barriers to his predilections, except the odd distention of certain supporters-older females.

"As you please. I heard through the grapevine that you're in line for the medal of bravery. Pity you didn't save the cop that died. Did you know that he had a young family?"

Roan stared at him. He was balding and bespectacled and had put on more and more weight over the years. The man knew every detail that Mahoney did about the shooting. She'd tried and failed to shield Bill Trimble.

She really didn't know much about the man who dumbly tried to rush the house before the SWAT team was in place. Trimble had only become her partner the day before. It was hoped that he could learn from her. Her injury meant she couldn't attend his funeral. Since that time, her own incapacity had prevented her from going to see his family. A timely reminder of something she had to do sooner rather than later. "The man who died deserves the medal," she replied coldly.

Douglas caught her distaste of him in her glare. "I'm sure he did. I'll save my congratulations until the event. Is there anything I can help you with...rather than continuing to wait?"

"No." Roan kept on with her pacing, and Douglas resumed his irritated gaze.

Noise from inside the chief's office increased as the voices grew louder. The door opened and her uncle's visitor walked out with a grim expression.

Roan knew the man. He was the commander of the tenth precinct. He was a fine officer and one she would have no trouble working with. "Commander Dillian, good to see you again."

Commander Dillian, who was about the same age as her uncle, nodded. "Lieutenant Keating, it's good to see that you're up and around." He gave her a brief smile before he said, "Good morning," and left abruptly.

Roan shook her head imperceptibly. Her uncle had been a reasonable cop in his time, but he had never been the caliber of the man who just left the room. Her uncle had known all the right people and worked every angle to his advantage to gain selection for the job of chief. Added to that was the fact that he was the only son of a very successful and notable past chief. There were rumors that he had been instrumental in the removal of the man who replaced her grandfather in office to further his own goals.

"Ah, Roan, now what have I done to deserve the pleasure of your company this morning? I only have ten minutes." Mahoney took in the disheveled appearance of his only living relative.

"It won't take that long." Roan followed him inside the office.

The large man motioned for her to sit on one of the sofas and he sat in the one opposite. It was then that she saw his flat expression.

"You know, your mother would be turning in her grave if she could see you now. She was always so proud of her appearance and look at you." He waved a hand up and down her body. "Tell me...do you ever see a hairdresser?"

Inwardly, Roan groaned. "We've been over this time and time again. I don't give a squat about my appearance as long as I get the job done. That's all that matters."

Mahoney looked down at his well-manicured hands and reflected on his immaculate appearance. "You'll go further if you take more care in the way you look. It's a package deal...even in the force. How have you been?"

"I'll get my rewards by hard work and results." Roan ignored his forced solicitude over her health.

Mahoney sneered. He loved his older sister and thought she'd made a great match when she married the young rising star of the district attorney's office, Joseph Keating. Although, he'd never been sure if their father, who was in his first year as chief, didn't play an integral part in the man's wooing. Still, Jane had been happy, and when they'd had the twins, it all looked like things were going to work out. They would have had control of the police in the city and the district attorney's office within ten years...until the accident.

"You haven't asked me why I'm here, and I have," Roan glanced at her watch, "less than five minutes to tell you." She had seen the look before. Her uncle was lost in the past because it was how she looked on the odd occasion she took that journey. It always seemed to remain in their eyes for sometime after the memory pa.s.sed.

"We both know I will not throw you out until we're done. However, by all means, tell me why you're here." He pierced her with a sharp gaze.

"That case you asked me to recheck...the Thompson case. Nothing suicidal about it. Pure murder. I want it reopened with more manpower to track down the killer. If she didn't kill herself, the chances are she didn't kill the woman in her apartment."

Mahoney sighed heavily. "You have proof of that statement, I a.s.sume."

Roan blew out an irritated breath. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

Mahoney mulled over the statement. "Tell me what makes you convinced that it's murder and not an accidental death."

Roan flipped a doc.u.ment case on the coffee table between them. "Read it and you'll understand. Somehow accidental doesn't fit."

A few minutes later and after several deep breaths, Mahoney raised his eyebrows and glanced in her direction. "This is a very sensitive matter. I know quite a few local dignitaries, not to mention international ones, who will be shocked and unbelieving by what you presume...including me. The scandal could be devastating. Thank, G.o.d, I haven't publicly announced my support of the project." He shook his head. "Robert will need to do some nifty moves to remove us from any fallout."

"Is that it? Is that all you can say? Christ, a woman...no two women are dead...and all you can think about is your d.a.m.ned fool reputation. You said my mother would be turning in her grave, h.e.l.l, Grandpa would be clawing his way out of the ground at your att.i.tude."

"Enough, young lady, you don't know anything about your grandfather."

"I do! He taught me what was right and wrong. He made me understand that sometimes the right thing doesn't always happen, but to keep the faith that it eventually would. I loved him more in my little finger than you ever did in all your life. You're as shallow as a river in a drought. If you don't give me what I need, I'll do this myself, then we'll see who comes out smelling like roses," Roan screamed.

Mahoney watched the display of anger and didn't say anything; it was a first. Roan was the calmest person he'd ever met. Nothing seemed to faze her, but this case did and he found that interesting. "I'll authorize the help. Just remember two things in all this."

"What?"

"If all goes well, I will want the credit as is due my office..."

Roan scowled and supplied the rest of the sentence. "...if it goes belly up, you are not involved at all. I have to carry the black mark on my record. Is that about right?"

Mahoney smiled. "Perfectly. I always knew there was an area where we understood each other."

Roan stood and flicked back her untidy hair. "If I fail, you can have my badge." She departed the office and slammed the door behind her.

"Trust me, my dear, I'll place your head on a spit, niece or no niece, then take your badge and fill it full of lead at the target range ." He walked over to his desk and buzzed his aide.

Sunday for Echo was her rejuvenation day. She didn't work out or look at anything related to her job. Simply, Sunday was her chill day.

Echo padded in her slippers to the kitchen. Yawning, she flicked on the kettle and looked at the clock-it was almost noon.

"Whoa, I bet Roan is up and about doing all kinds of detective stuff and I've been lazing in bed. I wonder if she ever just stays in bed because she can. Yeah, right. She's just like Karen, focused on what is right. Maybe that's why I like her so much...she reminds me of Karen in lots of ways. Weird, though, we do argue a lot and I can't remember a time that Karen and I ever fought in the fifteen years we knew each other. Oh, c.r.a.p, here I am talking to myself again."

Pouring the now boiled water into a cup of instant coffee, she contemplated her day-nothing exciting. She gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah, nothing exciting. Karen was murdered and we think we know the culprit and that's not exciting. I've been around Roan too long, that's for sure."

Echo looked at the calendar on her wall and groaned. It was her week to call her parents. "I guess I'd better get it over with." She dialed the number.

"h.e.l.lo?" her mother said.

"Hi, how are you doing?" Echo held the phone away from her ear.

"Well, young lady, it's about time you called. We've been worried sick about you."

Echo smiled and began the placation process. "I know. I'm sorry, Mom." It wasn't the first time she'd called later than normal, but with Karen's death, her parents now had jitters. "I went back to work, and it's been a long week. How about you and Dad, how are you doing?"

They carried on a general conversation for several minutes until her mom began on her favorite topic. "Are you dating anyone? I think if you are, you should bring her home with you next weekend. Mind you, I have a fallback if you don't. We can't have you all alone. You have remembered it's our wedding anniversary, haven't you?"

Echo grimaced. With everything that had been going on in her life, she'd totally forgotten. It was their fortieth and there was no way she could not attend the party. "Yeah, I remembered, Mom. I haven't got a..." Just then, the doorbell rang and Echo debated the wisdom of ending the call. "Hold on a minute, someone's at the door."

Echo ran to the door, opened it without checking the spy hole, and was amazed to see Roan standing there. "Hi," she said as she sucked in a breath.

"Hi. Look, I know this might be inconvenient, but I wanted to give you an update. I brought lunch." She held up two brown paper bags.

Echo shook her head as the thought of food hit home. "Come on in, I'm on the phone with my mom."

Roan watched Echo speed across the floor and pick up the phone again. She followed, taking in the brightly lit modern decor that matched the furniture perfectly. She decided it was in keeping with Echo's personality. Then she walked inside the open area that the sunlight streamed into through a picture window that had a view of the city below.

"Where do you want me to put these?" Roan whispered as she pointed at the bags.

Echo placed a hand over the mouthpiece. "On the kitchen counter."

Echo closed her eyes as she realized she hadn't quite covered the whole mouthpiece. "Why didn't you say you were entertaining? Is this the new girlfriend? Do I get a name? Your father and I will be annoyed if you turn up alone next week."

"Yes, Mom. Her name is Roan and she's..."

"That's a man's name. Isn't that a little odd? Is it short for something else?"

With an exasperated sigh, Echo looked at Roan, who had an amused smile on her face as she flicked idly through magazine pages. Darn it, Roan, are you laughing at me? "Roan, my mother wants to know if that's your given name or if it's a shortened version of a name." Roan chuckled, and it took all of Echo's inner strength not to go weak at the knees at the sound.

"Rowena Anne...after my two grandmothers."

Echo licked her lips, which had gone dry, along with her throat, as she got another glimpse into Roan's personal life. "You heard that, Mom? Yes, I'll tell her or better still, you do it." Echo thrust the phone out, and Roan blinked at her in surprise and automatically took it.

"Mrs. Radar." Roan's face was nonplussed as she listened, then raised her eyebrows a fraction.

"I'd be delighted. Sure, I'll have Echo provide me with all the details. Hmm, no, I'm sure that I can find a hotel. I wouldn't want you to go to any trouble. Goodbye, Mrs. Radar...oh, okay, Maggie. See you next week then." Roan pa.s.sed the phone back to an astonished and almost dumbstruck Echo, who wished her mother goodbye and replaced the receiver on the wall.

With amazement reflected in her saucer-like gaze, Echo said, "She let you call her Maggie? I've never ever heard her say that to anyone...even Karen always called her Mrs. Radar. I never knew you had it in you to be so polite."

Roan pursed her lips and frowned. "Must have liked something in my voice, I guess. Sorry, she invited me to the anniversary bash next weekend. I figured it was easier to say yes than take up too much of her time. She told me not to bother to find a hotel, that I was welcome at the house. Does she invite all strangers she's never met or heard about to the house to stay?"

"No, of course not! Look, when she heard me speak to you, she figured I had a new...well, let's forget it. I'll make up a story next week why you couldn't come. In your line of work, I'm sure that would have been entirely impossible anyway." Echo didn't want to say "girlfriend" aloud for a part of her wanted to keep her head in the sand over Roan's s.e.xual orientation.

"Probably," Roan said.

Echo looked in Roan's direction. Is she disappointed...surely not. "I think you said you came to update me." Echo changed the subject.

Roan moved to the kitchen where the paper bags with the sandwiches she'd brought for lunch were. "Here, let's eat while I tell you. I haven't had breakfast yet, and I need to take my meds...not good on an empty stomach."

"Yeah, I'm hungry, too. You'll think I'm decadent...I only got up about half an hour ago. What did you bring?" Echo gratefully took the offered bag, and when she opened it, a smile filled her face. "My favorite sub...cayenne chicken with all the tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs.

Scratching above her left eye, Roan smiled. "I remembered from when you brought them to my place for lunch one day." She sat on the stool next to Echo and took a large bite of her beef and hot mustard sub.

"Do you remember everything?" Echo sank her teeth into her sandwich with relish.

Roan wiped her hand across her mouth with a napkin. "Mostly. I'm good at putting a place with a name, and that goes for people, too. It's an a.s.set in my job." She gazed around the room. "I like the decor."

Echo felt a rush of pleasure surge through her at the simple compliment. "It's one of my many talents. Is that really your name...Rowena Anne?"

Roan chuckled. "Yes...want to see my birth certificate? My twin sister couldn't get her tongue 'round the name when we were young, and it was a natural nickname, I guess."

Echo could have fallen off the stool at another piece of personal information that had dropped naturally into the conversation. "I...I didn't know you had a twin."

Their gazes locked for a few interminable seconds. "How would you? I never mentioned her before. Talking of family, I went to see my uncle, and the offshoot is, he'll authorize the reopening of the case and I'll get more help. Probably won't see any benefit of that for a few days, but at least we can make a case against Greystoke and bring her in for questioning."

Echo, munching on her sandwich, was quiet. Her thoughts were chaotic.