Learning that the deaths had not been of the officers involved, but of some suspects who’d resisted arrest, did not help. It only served to remind Debbie that during his days on duty, Cole was constantly in the line of fire and in danger of never coming home.

It made her stop. And it made her think. And for the first time, she had a taste of what kept Cole Brownfield out of her arms. She’d heard him say more than once that, on the job, a policeman’s first duty was to his partner. It was what got them home safe and sound each day. And that if a man, or woman, as the case might be, couldn’t face that fact, they had no business trying to work a family into a policeman’s lifestyle. It was what got people killed.

But Debbie knew that she could face sharing Cole. If that was what it took to keep him safe and bring him home, she’d share him with the whole damned department. I can be stubborn, she reminded herself. I will wait until he realizes that, too.

She sprayed furniture polish on an already gleaming table and rubbed furiously, muttering beneath her breath at the stupidity of supposedly brilliant people.

“Were you talking about me?” Buddy asked as he wandered through the kitchen with an empty plate and glass. He’d long since learned to return his carry-out crockery. It still gave him nightmares thinking about soap and water and vacuums in his inner sanctum.

“What?” Debbie looked up, startled at his appearance and then realized that he’d walked in on the last of her mumblings.

“Brilliant people…were you talking about me?” Buddy grinned.

“You’re not nearly as stupid as you let on, are you, Robert Allen?”

“Cole just drove up.” He deposited his announcement and his dirty dishes at the same time.

Debbie whirled around, stared through the living room toward the front door and then, before she thought, wrapped her arms around Buddy’s neck and planted a big kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you for caring, Buddy dear,” she whispered.

Cole walked in. It was the first thing he saw. His brother and Debbie. In the kitchen. Kissing. At least she was kissing, Buddy was grinning down at her like someone had just handed him the keys to the computer brain in Washington, D.C.

Cole didn’t think. He just reacted. It had been too long since he’d been home and too long since he’d felt human. He’d never been so pissed off in his life. He pivoted, slamming the door behind him as he made a none-too-graceful exit back outside. This time, he stood on the front stoop, leaned against the door, placed his finger on the bell, and pushed.