“The rough and tumble of police work isn’t for everyone, you know? Some people have a gentler nature.” He moved closer still. His gaze dropped to her lips, and adrenaline finally got her moving. She pushed herself away from the desk and past him to the door.

“Sorry, I’ve to go. Niall will be waiting to start. Thanks . . . uh, thanks for letting me know.”

She stopped then, one hand on the door handle. She couldn’t just run away. She needed to make this right. What if he was furious? But his voice, when he spoke, held a tinge of amusement.

“Grand. Good for you, Carrie. Straight back on the horse.”

She nodded, forced out a little laugh that sounded, nauseatingly, like a titter, then opened the door and all but ran for the stairs.

Chapter Ten

Carrie

Carrie had no time to process what had just happened. She found herself on the staircase with nowhere to go but back into the squad room, upstairs to the offices, or down to where Niall was waiting. She chose Niall. He was leaning against the wall.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine. I’m fine.” Except that she felt sweaty and nauseous and horribly close to tears. She pushed past him.

“Let’s go.”

They walked in silence toward Talbot Street, Carrie ignoring the pain in her ribs and setting the pace. Their job, on a night like this, was to walk a set route and make themselves visible to the general public and known to the various security personnel manning any shops open for late customers. They would keep an eye on the homeless, move them on if they were causing a public nuisance, and circle back around by O’Connell Bridge. The hope was that a garda presence would deter, even if only temporarily, the area’s heroin addicts and drug dealers from using the riverside walks as a dealing and shooting gallery. Then, if they hadn’t already been sidetracked with an arrest or a call, they would start all over again.

“You could go home, you know, if you need to,” Niall said. “I can go back to the station, see if there’s anyone else who can go out tonight.”

She threw him a look. “What are you talking about?”

“I only meant . . . Well, I figured from the expression on your face that Martin gave you some bad news.”

He was going to make her talk about it whether she wanted to or not. “I didn’t get the transfer, if that’s what you mean,” she said. “And I guess you did. Congratulations, Niall.”

He smiled a bit awkwardly “Yeah, thanks. Can’t pretend I’m not delighted. Bit surprised, to tell you the truth. Don’t mind telling you, Carrie, I mean . . . I suppose you already know. I only applied because you were talking about it that day. I’m not sure I would have thought about it for myself.”

He said it as if he were delivering a compliment. Carrie clenched her fists and nodded, and they walked on. And despite her best efforts to keep her mind on the work, she found herself cataloging Niall’s strengths and failures. He was easy to work with, easy to like, and willing, when the mood took him, to have a go. But he didn’t take the job seriously. He showed up late and, when he could get away with it, went home early. He tackled foot patrol with easy good humor, but handed off anything unresolved to the next shift and never followed up anything unless he was directed to. Niall had, in fact, spent the last year developing elite-level evasion skills for anything that might require a bit of hard work. He’d never last in the SDU. He probably liked the idea of wearing plain clothes and carrying a gun, but he’d never do the work. Oh, God, she thought. Now she was being a bitch. Niall didn’t deserve to have her tearing him to shreds, even if it was in the privacy of her own head.