“Just part of the job.”

Rachel didn’t consider herself a slouch in the reading-people department. “So, how big a crush do you have on Alexi?”

“The biggest.” Bess smiled and rubbed her cheek over Brenna’s. “He thinks I’m flighty. Fickle. But I’m not. Not with him.”

“Why would he think that?”

“I have a varied track record. But it’s different with him.” When Bess lowered her head to murmur to the baby, Rachel glanced at her brother. They exchanged a great deal without uttering a word. “It makes me envy people like your sister, Natasha,” Bess went on. “Those three beautiful children, a husband who after years together still looks at her as if he can’t believe she belongs to him. Work she loves. I envy all that.”

“You’d like a family?”

“I never had one.”

Rachel knew it was the lawyer in her, but she couldn’t help moving along the line of questioning. “Does it bother you that he’s a cop?”

“Bother me?” Bess’s brows lifted in surprise. “No. Do you mean, will I worry? I suppose I will. But it’s not something I could change, or that I want to change. I love who he is.”

“He’s making you sad,” Mikhail said quietly.

“No.” Bess’s denial was quick enough to startle the dozing baby. She soothed her automatically as she shook her head. “No, of course he isn’t.”

“I see what’s in your eyes.”

He would, she realized, and felt the warmth creep into her cheeks. “It’s only that I know he doesn’t trust me—my feelings. Or, I suppose, the endurance of my feelings. It’s not his fault.”

“He was always one to pick things apart.” There was brotherly disgust in Mikhail’s voice. “Never one to take anything on faith. I’ll speak to him.”

“Oh, no.” This time, she laughed. “He’d be furious with both of us. All that Slavic pride and male ego.”

Instantly Mikhail’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing.” She grinned at Rachel. “Not a thing. I’ll just wear him down in my own way. In fact, I’m going to start tonight. I’m cooking dinner. I thought maybe I could call your mother, find out if he has a favorite dish.”

“I can tell you that,” Rachel offered. “Anything.”

“Well, that certainly widens my choices. Do you think she’d mind if I called her, asked for some pointers? My kitchen skills are moderate at best.”

“She’d love it.” Rachel smiled to herself, knowing her mother would hang up the phone and immediately start planning the wedding.

It was after midnight when Alex let himself into Bess’s apartment with the key she’d given him. He was punchy with fatigue, and his head was buzzing from too much coffee. Those were usual things, as much a part of his work as filing reports or following a lead. But the sick weight in his stomach was something new.

He would have to tell her.

She’d left the television on. In an old black-and-white movie a woman screamed in abject terror and fled down a moonlit beach. As he shrugged out of his jacket, Alex moved across the room to switch it off. Before he reached the set, he saw her, curled on the couch.