“Give me a reason.” Alex leaned in close. “I’d love it.”

“I’ll have your badges.” Tears began to leak out of Tremayne’s eyes as he slid to the floor. “My grandfather will have your badges.”

In disgust, Alex stood over him. “Go find him some pants,” he said to Judd. “I’ll read him his rights.”

With a nod, Judd started for the bedroom. “Don’t take it personally, Stanislaski.”

Alex glanced over with something that was almost a smile. “Kiss off, Malloy.”

They had him cold, Alex thought as he turned into Bess’s building. They could call out every fancy lawyer on the East Coast, and it wouldn’t mean a damn thing. The physical evidence was overwhelming—particularly since they’d found the murder weapon in the nightstand drawer.

Opportunity was unlikely to be a problem, and as for motive—he’d leave that up to the shrinks. Undoubtedly they’d cop an insanity plea. Maybe they’d even pull it off. One way or the other, he was off the streets.

It went a long way toward easing the bitterness he’d felt over Rosalie’s death. He hoped it helped Bess with her grief.

He’d nearly called her from the station, but he’d wanted to tell her face-to-face. As he waited for the elevator, he shifted the bunch of lilacs he held. Maybe it was a weird time to bring her flowers, but he thought she needed them.

Stepping into the car, he tucked a hand in his pocket and felt the jeweler’s box. It was even a weirder time to propose marriage. But he knew he needed it.

It scared him just how much he’d come to depend on having her with him. To talk to him, to listen to him, to make him laugh. To make love with him. He knew he was rushing things, but he justified it by assuring himself that if he got her to marry him quickly enough, she wouldn’t have time to change her mind.

She believed she was in love with him. After they were committed, emotionally and legally, he would take as much time as necessary to make certain it was true.

The elevator opened, and Alex dug for his keys. They’d order in tonight, he decided. Put on some music, light some candles. He grimaced as he fit the key into the lock. No, she’d probably had that routine before, and he’d be damned if he’d follow someone else’s pattern. He’d have to think of something else.

He opened the door with his arms full of nodding lilacs, his mind racing to think of some clever, innovative way to ask Bess to be his wife. The color went out of his face and turned his eyes to midnight. He felt something slam into his chest. It was like being shot.

She was standing in the center of the room, her laughter just fading away. In another man’s arms, her mouth just retreating from another man’s lips.

“Charlie, I—” She heard the sound of the door and turned. The bright, beaming smile on her face froze, then faded away like the laughter. “Alexi.”