Brazil was struggling to control himself, and West could be hard but so long. She cared about him in a way that fit no easy definition, and this was partly why he unsettled and confused her so much. She enjoyed him as a talented, precocious recruit, someone she could mentor and get a kick out of watching as he learned. She did not have a brother and would have liked one exactly like him, someone young, smart, sensitive, and kind. He was a friend, although she did not give him much of a chance. He was a pretty incredible-looking guy and didn’t seem to notice.

“Andy,” she quietly said, “please tell me what happened.”

“Somehow he got in my computer basket, my files. Everything over the news channels before the paper came out. Scooped.” His voice trembled, and he did not want West to see him like this.

West was stunned. “He?” she asked. “Who’s he?”

“Webb.” He could barely bring himself to say that name. “Same piece of shit screwing your deputy chief!”

“What?” Now West was truly lost.

“Goode,” he said. “Everybody knows.”

“I didn’t.” West wondered how she could have missed intelligence like that.

Brazil’s heart was broken forever. West wasn’t quite sure what to do as she mopped her face again.

Bubba stealthily made his way back to his truck, his thick face with its misshapen nose averted and shadowed by a baseball cap. Climbing up into his cab with his purchases, he sat watching the cop car out his windshield. For a while, he flipped through his magazine, pausing at the really big stories. There were many of them, and he tried not to think about his wife or make comparisons as he calculated the best method of attack.

He had packed light tonight, just a Colt .380 caliber seven-shot pistol in an ankle holster, which would not have been his first choice had he known he might have a standoff with the cops. It was a good thing he had a backup between the seats, a Quality Parts Shorty E-2 Carbine, .223 caliber with thirty-shot magazine, adjustable sights, chrome-lined barrel finished in manganese phosphate that didn’t shine at night. For all practical purposes, this was an M-16 and with it, Bubba could riddle West’s car Bonnie and Clyde style. He turned a page and massaged more big ideas as he enjoyed the dark.

West had never really been called upon to comfort a member of the male gender. Rarely was such a thing needed or requested, and having no precedent to follow, she used common sense. Brazil was hiding his face in his hands. She felt terribly sorry for him. What an unfortunate state of affairs.

“It’s not that bad, really,” she kept saying. “Okay?” She patted his shoulder. “We’ll find a way out of this. Okay?”

She patted him again, and when this did not make a dent, she finally broke down. “Come here,” she said.

West put an arm around him and pulled him close. Suddenly, he was in her lap, his arms clamped around her as he held her like a child, which he was not. West’s hot flashes seemed worse as she thought fast and hormones spiked. He nuzzled her, holding tight, and her insides woke up, startling her. Brazil was suffering from a similar response and moved up her body, to her neck, until he found her mouth. For moments, at least, they were completely out of control and out of orbit. Their traumatized brains went into shock, allowing other instincts to have their way, for Mother Nature worked in this fashion to trick couples into procreating.