“Without telling him.” He took a swig.

“I’m sure he won’t mind.” Her sense of being ill-used rose to the surface. She plunked into the wicker chair across from the glider. “Thanks for rushing over to bail me out.”

“Your bail is set at fifty thousand dollars,” he said flatly.

“You pay nearly that much for hair products.”

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty much the exact definition of a flight risk.” He resumed his former seat.

“You were going to take off for Chicago tomorrow without seeing me, weren’t you? Leave me here to rot.”

“You’re hardly rotting.” He settled back into the cushions. “The word is that Chief Wesley loaned you to the Golden Agers yesterday morning for an oil painting demonstration.”

“It’s his work-release program.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “You’re glad I was arrested, aren’t you?”

He took another slow sip, as if he were thinking it over. “Ultimately, it doesn’t mean much, does it? If Nita hadn’t done her worst, you’d have disappeared by now.”

“I wish you’d at least…come to see me.”

“You made your feelings more than clear the last time we talked.”

“And you let a little thing like that stop you?” Her voice caught.

“Why are you here, Blue?” He sounded tired. “You want to drive the knife in a little deeper?”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“I guess you did what you had to. Now I’m doing the same.”

She pulled her legs tight against the rocker. “It’s hardly surprising that I have a few minor trust issues.”

“You have trust issues. Artistic issues. Fake-toughness issues. Then there are the fashion issues.” His lip curled. “No, wait, that’s part of the fake-toughness thing.”

“I was getting ready to turn around when Chief Wesley pulled me over!” she exclaimed.

“Sure you were.”

“It’s true.” It hadn’t occurred to her that he might not believe her. “You’re right. What you said in the alley.” She drew a deep breath. “I do love you.”

“Uh-huh.” Ice cubes clinked as he drained his glass.

“I do. Really.”

“Then why do you sound like you’re getting ready to puke?”

“I’m still sort of getting used to the idea.” She loved Dean Robillard, and she knew she had to take this one terrifying leap. “I’ve—I’ve had a lot of time to think lately, and…” Her mouth was so dry she had to push out the words. “I’ll go to Chicago with you. We’ll live together for a while. See how things work out.”

Stony silence followed. She started to get nervous.

“That deal is no longer on the table,” he said quietly.

“It’s only been four days!”

“You’re not the only one who’s had time to think.”