Alex had seen the look before, and he knew they wouldn’t be content with the money. “We’re going in,” he whispered to Judd. “You go low, go for the one on the right.”

Pale, Judd nodded. “Say when.”

“Don’t fire your weapon unless you have to.” Alex sucked in his breath and went through the door. “Police!” In the back of his mind he heard the sirens from the backup as the first gunman swung the shotgun in his direction. “Drop it!” he ordered, knowing it was useless. The woman was already screaming before the first shots were fired.

The shotgun blew out a bank of fluorescent lights as the force of Alex’s bullet sent the man slamming backward. Alex was getting the second man in his sights when a bullet from the .45 slammed into a bottle inches above his head, spraying alcohol and glass. Judd fired, and stopped being a rookie.

Slowly, with the same blank look on his face, Alex came out of his crouch and studied his partner. Judd wasn’t pale now. He was green. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” After replacing his weapon, Judd rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. There was a greasy knot in his stomach that was threatening to leap into his throat. “It was my first.”

“I know. Go outside.”

“I’m okay.”

Alex gave him a nudge on the shoulder. His hand remained there a moment, surprisingly gentle. “Go outside anyway. Tell the backup to call an ambulance.”

Bess was waiting beside the car when Alex came out some twenty minutes later. He looked the same, she thought. Just the same as he’d looked when he walked in. Then he lifted his head and looked at her, and she saw she was wrong.

His eyes hadn’t looked so tired, so terribly tired, twenty minutes before.

“I told you to stay in the car.”

“I did.”

“Then get back in.”

Gently she laid a hand on his arm. “Alexi, you made your point. I’ll take a cab. You have things to do.”

“I’ve done them.” He skirted the car and yanked open the passenger door. She could almost feel his body vibrating, but when he spoke, his voice was firm, sharp. “Get in the damn car, Bess.”

She didn’t have the heart to argue, so she crossed over and complied. “What about Judd?”

“He’s heading to the cop shop to file the report.”

“Oh.”

He let the silence hang for three blocks. It hadn’t been his first, but he hadn’t told Judd that the bright, shaky sickness didn’t fade. It only turned inward, becoming anger, disgust, frustration. And you never stopped asking yourself why.

“Aren’t you going to ask how it felt? What went through my mind? What happens next?”

“No.” She said it quietly. “I don’t have to ask when I can see. And it’s easy enough to find out what happens next.”

It wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want her to be understanding, or quietly agreeable, or to turn those damned sympathetic eyes on him. “Passing up a chance for grist for your mill? McNee, you surprise me. Or can’t your TV cop blow away a couple of stoned perps?”