"So the brat came to you."

Colton's voice was arctic cold, but he could tell Chantale had been expecting his antipathy because she merely smiled.

"Spring is far from a brat," she reprimanded him mildly, "but yes, she did come to me. We had an off-the-record chat."

He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. "You mean like girl talk?"

Now, Chantale looked less at ease. "Maybe."

"What the hell did you tell her?"

"She told me it wasn't sexual assault," Chantale said. "She said you mentioned coercion, but I just don't see that."

Which meant Chantale was either being perceptive or honest and Colton was never sure which. So instead of speaking, he simply nodded.

"And then I might have told her about how you are in bed," she said in a rush. "But that was so she might understand-"

In a heartbeat, Colton was out of his seat and advancing on Chantale.

"You had no right."

Chantale shot out of her seat. "You once threw it in my face, if you're recall, so don't go getting all high and mighty on me."

He stopped, stunned. He had done that, he remembered, and it had not been one of his finer moments. He took a breath. "I was wrong then just like you're wrong now."

"Maybe," she conceded. "But I felt Spring needed to understand. She's a bright woman, Colton, and my telling her goes a long way to explaining some things."

"But I never coerced you, Chantale. What we did was always consensual." He stopped dead in his tracks. "It was, wasn't it?"

Chantale frowned. "Of course it was, why the hell would you ask such a stupid question?"

"Because...I just don't get why you had to tell Spring." He let out a sharp breath. "I was married to her sister, you know. Now she's going to think..." His eyes closed and he felt slightly nauseous.

"She asked what I thought about that and I was honest and told her I didn't know. Heck, I hadn't even known you had been married, so I certainly wasn't in a position to offer an opinion."

He swallowed convulsively. "I...it wasn't like that with Sunshine. Oh, Chantale, I don't know how to explain."

"Because you're afraid you'll hurt my feelings? Again, Colton - it was mutual. If you had a more tender relationship with Sunshine, that's not going to hurt my feelings. I liked what we had. And I'm going to tell you something that you'll never repeat to another soul."

"Of course," he said, wondering where this was going.

"Declan likes it when I get aggressive with him. I also like it when he's tender with me. You and I were passion and fire with ice and snow and nothing in between. You kept me out and I didn't push because, let's be frank, the sex was really good. You were right to walk away from me, Colton, because I wanted more. I needed more."

"And you've found it with Byrne."

She nodded. "Yes, I have. It sounds crazy, but he's like the other half of my soul. I gave him permission to have fun, to not take everything so seriously. In return, he showed me what it was like to love someone unconditionally. He brought me to my knees the day he walked away from me. It hurt ten times worse than your defection."

"But he was only doing it to protect you," Colton pointed out.

"But I didn't know that," Chantale said. "I really believed he didn't want me."

"He would have been crazy to walk away from you, from what you had."

"You did."

He shrugged. "We didn't have love, Chantale."

She smiled, a little wistfully. "I know. And if you hadn't left me then I would have never met Declan. I would never have found happiness and I wouldn't be pregnant."

"Which is why I need to fire you as my lawyer."

Chantale threw her hands up in the air. "I swear to God, Colton, you're like a broken record. You sound like Declan."

"Well, you did get shot."

"Am I never going to live that down? It was a flesh wound. Jocelyne was able to stitch me up."

A memory he would never forget. When Byrne had called him to tell him Chantale had been shot, Colton's mind had gone to the dark place, the place where Chantale wasn't alive in the world. A world where the firecracker was no longer there to antagonize him. He'd never told her how close he'd come to losing it or how relieved he'd been, finding her with only a through-and-through bullet wound to the upper arm.

"Besides," she said, hardly missing a beat, "there have been a few people calling Nick and Bennett to complain, but that's about it." Nick Clarke was the lawyer she worked with and it was Bennett MacDougall who was the partner in their firm.

"For now," Colton said. "But you'll tell me if that changes, right? Not like last time when you hid the threats."

"Okay," she said grudgingly and he believed her. She pointed to the chair. "May I sit back down?"

"A woman's prerogative," he said.

She glared at him, but sat back down. She pulled out her yellow legal notepad from her briefcase. She sighed. "Okay. Step-by-step and for God's sake, don't leave anything else. I'm not squeamish and chances are I've heard it all before."

But not from me, was his first thought. She hadn't heard her ex-lover recount such a sordid affair. Still, he'd managed to be honest with Dorrie and the world hadn't fallen apart. So why not one more person?

"This doesn't go anywhere, right? I don't want the Dixon sisters hearing about this."

Chantale tilted her head, the question in her eyes.

"Because I'm not proud of what I did," he said by way of explanation. "And I might hurt one or more of them if the truth comes out."

Her brow arched. "As opposed to the lie? You think it's better for them to think you sexually assaulted a woman rather than...whatever sordid tale you're going to tell me?"

Well, put like that, he could see how that might not work.

He sighed. "Okay, so Belinda Oliphant came down to the detachment to tell us she'd been drugged and date raped. You know you can't use any of that."

"Of course," Chantale assured him. "But I need context. I need to know how she wound up having consensual sex with you."

It was going to be a long afternoon.

Spring stared at the blinking cursor on her laptop. Not a single word had come to her. She'd been sitting here for over an hour and...nothing. She never suffered from writer's block. She never was at a loss for words. In fact, Harrison was usually having to edit her pieces because they were too long.

"You want me to get someone else to write it?"

She started at her boss' voice. Then she shook her head.

"I can do it, boss, I just have to find the right tone."

He eyed her thoughtfully. "How much have you learned off the record?"

As always, her boss was perceptive. "More than on any other story," she said truthfully. "More than I should and more than I want to. Some of it's relevant, some of it's hearsay, and some of it's questionable."

"So, what's the verdict?"

"That's probably the easiest part," Spring said. "Not guilty of rape. Poor judgement? Yes. Sexual assault? No."

"And you can't write this story because...?"

"Because virtually everything I know is either protected or off the record. I-" She trailed off as her phone rang.

"Spring Dixon."

There was a pause and then a sob.

Spring checked the call display, but it wasn't a number she recognized.

"Can you talk to me," she asked. "Maybe tell me who you are or why you're calling?"

"It's too late," the slurred voice said. "It's all your fucking fault."

"Belinda? Is that you?"

"And now you're gonna know."

"Know what?"

There was a long pause. "What it feels like to be responsible for someone's death."

Spring jumped out of her chair. "Don't do it, Belinda. Whatever you're thinking about doing, don't, okay? Let me come to you and we'll work this out. You want to talk to me, right? So we'll talk. Look, I'm walking to my car and I can be at your house in ten minutes, okay?" Less, if she broke all the speed limits.

She grabbed her knapsack and waved off Harrison when he began to speak.

"So, you can wait ten minutes, right?"

There was an even longer pause and Spring held her breath.

"No time," Belinda slurred. "There's just no time." With that, she hung up.

Spring turned to Harrison. "Call 911, tell them they have a possibly suicidal person at 33999 Third Avenue."

"Go," Harrison said and she broke into a run. Her car had a remote, so she was able to leap into it and gun the engine as she pulled out of the parking lot. She made it over three streets before she hit a red light and she needed to turn left. This was a slow light at the best of times, but today Spring knew she would do anything for it to change. She glanced at the traffic and debated running the light, but there was traffic in both directions going at highway speed.

So she grabbed her phone and pulled up her contact list. For reasons she would never have been able to explain to anyone, she kept Colton's number on speed dial. He answered on the second ring and she didn't wait for niceties.

"I think Belinda is trying to kill herself. Harrison called 911 and I'm heading there now, but you're closer."

"Done," he said, then he cut the connection. She could see him racing out of his condo and getting into his little sports car. He wouldn't have to contend with any stupid red lights, she thought. And as the thought pressed to her chest, the light turned and she was able to tear out of there.

Belinda was trying to kill herself?

Colton pulled up in front of Belinda's house as he saw Spring's car coming down the street from the opposite direction. He was out of his car even as she got out of hers. He sprinted up the steps and tried the door.

It was locked.

He turned to Spring. "What did she say? Exactly what did she say?"

"That I was going to know what it felt like to be responsible for someone's death. That there was no more time." Spring's eyes were wild. "She was slurring her words."

"So she might have just been drunk dialing you. Why you, Spring? What the hell did you do?"

"Can we talk about this after we've gotten in there," Spring asked.

"I can't just burst into someone's home," Colton said, pressing the doorbell. "I'm not a cop right now."

"You're kidding, right? You're going to let her die because you can't go in there?"

He was already moving to the windows and looking in, but it was no use because all the drapes were pulled.

"Did you call 911?"

"Harrison did," Spring said, heading off to the other side to try to look through those windows. "So where the hell are the cops?"

"A couple of minutes," he said. "Or even less."

"And if she dies while we're standing out here?"

Desperation was clawing at him. "Spring, if I do this and you're wrong, I will never get my badge back and my bail will be revoked."

Spring was heading back to her car.

"What the hell are you doing?"

She popped the trunk and pulled out a tire iron.

"Are you going to tell me how to use this or are you going to make me guess?"

He could hear the sirens, but knew the officers would try to establish contact before breaching. So he took the piece of metal. "Stand back," he said and was grateful Spring did what she'd been told for once. He landed one blow to the window in the door. Then he used his jacket to knock the glass out of the way. He thrust his hand down, reaching for the deadbolt and ignoring the slicing pain of the glass tearing into his flesh.

Able to pop the lock, he pulled his arm back out, gritting his teeth as more flesh rubbed against glass. He opened the door and Spring went barrelling in. Belatedly, it occurred to him that Belinda might have a gun and she might shoot Spring. But Colton didn't have a sidearm and waiting wasn't an option, so he stepped in behind Spring.

Belinda was lying on the floor, completely still. Spring had already dropped to her haunches. She glanced up at Colton, her eyes wide in panic. "The paramedics are coming, right?"

Colton could hear the siren of the police car pulling up. "I'll check," he said. He was almost out the door before he asked, "why?"

"Because she's not breathing. It looks like she's choked on her own vomit."

Which was beyond disgusting and very scary. Colton stepped out of the door as he was met by Seth and Constable Sophie Langlois. "Tell me the paramedics are on their way."

"Two minutes out," Seth said.

"We don't have two minutes," Colton said. "You got gloves?"

Seth pulled out a pair and followed Colton into the room as he was putting them on. "Just like a drowning," he said. Dropping to his haunches, he reached into her mouth and pulled out a grotesque amount of vomit.

"You need to clear the airway," Seth said. "Sophie's running to the car to get the mask."

"I don't have time," Colton said as he took a steadying breath and began the procedure for rescue breathing. It took four tries, but he was finally able to inflate Belinda's lungs.

Seth was right there to begin chest compressions.

Spring, Colton realized, had been quietly crouched by Belinda's feet, rubbing them. It was incongruous, bizarre, and not very helpful, but it seemed to calm her and that was better than having a hysterical person on hand.

He looked up when the paramedics arrived. Rory was there with her shock of red hair and vivid green eyes. "How long has she been down," the woman asked.

Colton looked over to Spring who looked just as lost.

"Call came in eleven minutes ago," Sophie responded. "We arrived four minutes ago. Colton cleared her airway and Seth's been doing compressions."

Sawyer, Rory's partner stepped in behind her, gurney in tow. His bleach blonde hair contrasted with his blue eyes and he was grinning, but Colton knew the man to be extremely competent. Belinda couldn't have been in better hands.

"Fifteen minutes," Spring said. "She called me fifteen minutes ago and her speech was slurred, but she was breathing. I don't know how this happened because I was just on the phone with her."

Rory tapped Seth on the shoulder. "We're going to take her vitals and I'll restart compressions."

When Seth pulled back, however, Belinda started gagging and then vomiting again.

"Roll her," Sawyer said, and the three men and Rory rolled Belinda on her side. Rory supported her head while she vomited. It felt to Colton like it was going on and on, although probably it wasn't more than thirty seconds.

"Do we know what she took?"

Colton, Seth, and Sophie immediately began searching the house while Spring continued to rub Belinda's feet. Colton heard her say, "her feet are bare and it's cold," to what he assumed was a question from Rory or Sawyer.

"Found it," Seth said, walking back into the living room with a pill bottle in his hand. He looked at the label. "Effexor. It was filled three days ago and there were thirty pills."

Rory muttered something under her breath and Colton knew it wasn't good.

"We've got to get her to Mission City Memorial," Rory said. "They need to pump her stomach."

It took mere moments for them to get Belinda strapped to the gurney and on her way out the door. Colton watched as the paramedics loaded her into the rig and drove off, full lights and sirens. His heart was still firmly lodged in his throat, where it had been since Spring had called.

He turned to go back into the house but Seth stopped him. "This is a crime scene."

Colton stopped short. "How's that? She overdosed."

"I know," Seth said, "but the circumstances are going to look suspicious because you're here."

Holding up his bloody arm, Colton asked, "how can this be suspicious?" He grimaced. "I certainly didn't force the pills down her throat."

"But you being here is going to look bad. You should have waited for us."

"She might have died," Colton retorted, frustration building. "You know it would have taken you time to get in there and she would have died."

"How did you wind up here," Sophie asked, pulling some gauze from the first aid kit and beginning the process of examining Colton's cuts. "I think you might need stitches."

Colton looked around. "Where's Spring?"

For just an instant, the three cops looked at each other in confusion because they couldn't fathom how they had lost her. Heedless of the order not to go in, Colton had entered Belinda's house. Spring was down on her hands and knees, scrubbing at the carpet.

Colton moved to her, dropping to his haunches. "What are you doing?"

She just kept scrubbing.

"Spring?"

She didn't respond.

Glancing up at Seth and Sophie, Colton silently asked them what he should do.

Neither cop had a good answer.

So he placed a hand on Spring's shoulder. "Spring, sweetheart, you can't be doing this."

She shook off his hand. "I have to," she said. "Because Belinda can't come home to this and she will be coming home. She has to," Spring said. Then she repeated, "she has to."

Seth stepped forward. "Spring, this is a crime scene. Until we determine what happened, we can't be in here. Now, I need you to tell me-" He was cut off when she propelled herself up and right past him, heading out the door. In an instant, Colton was on his feet, following hard on her heels.

He reached for her an instant before she got into her car. "Slow down, Spring. What is going on?"

"The hospital," Spring said. "I have to go to the hospital."

"Okay," Colton said, "but first you need to give your statement to Seth about what happened. He needs to know the order of events."

"I have to go to the hospital," she said, pulling away from him and trying to get into her car.

"I'll take you," he said. "Grab your purse." He watched as she did just that then locked up her car. Again, he was grateful she was doing what she was told because she was in no shape to drive herself anywhere. So he led her to his car and tucked her into the passenger side. He turned back to Sophie and Seth. "You can get her statement at the hospital."

Seth nodded, his expression grim. "So how is it that you wound up here, at this moment of all moments?"

"Belinda called Spring and Spring called me because she knew I lived close. Her boss called you guys, but Spring was convinced we couldn't wait. I'll take whatever punishment is meted out, but I won't regret my actions."

"You shouldn't be driving with your arm all cut up," Sophie said.

"It's not that far," Colton argued.

"And you'll let a doctor check you out," Seth asked.

"Yeah, sure."

Seth didn't look like he believed him and he was probably right to do so.

"You're going to bleed in your car."

"Who cares?"

Now, Colton could see Seth's disbelief because Colton loved his car.

"She almost died. Man, she might still die. Spring's right, we have to be there."

"You're the last person who should be there," Sophie said. "But if you're getting your arm checked out, then it would be understandable."

Bless Sophie for understanding, Colton thought, even as he manoeuvred himself into his car. Sophie's haphazard bandaging hadn't been bad, but there was still blood trickling down his arm. Well, if they could get red wine out of white carpet then there must be a way to get blood out of upholstery.

As he pulled onto the main road leading to the hospital, he chanced a glance over at Spring. She was gazing out the passenger window, her pallor almost grey, her hands gripping her purse. He didn't understand what had just happened, what was still happening, and he wanted to demand answers but he knew that wasn't the way to go about this. No, he had to approach Spring like a victim instead of a witness because she'd been traumatized, of that he had no doubt. No civilian could go through what she just went through and not be affected. Hell, he was still shaken up.

He pulled into the hospital parking lot and came to a stop. Instead of speaking, he got out of the car and went over to pay for a parking space. He put the ticket on his dash then finally rounded the car to the passenger side. He opened the door and found Spring still had her seatbelt done up.

"Spring, sweetheart, if I reach across you to undo the belt then I'm going to bleed over your nice shirt." And it was a nice shirt. Pale blue almost the colour of her eyes matched with a pair of black jeans. No jacket, he noted. Probably because she'd run so fast from the office. He made a note to call one of her sisters and have them bring a coat.

Which sister?

That was always the question with so many to choose from. Kennedy was always the logical answer, but she had patients on Saturday. Not that she wouldn't drop everything, but still... Rainbow would come, of course. As would Torah, Summer, Autumn, and Sunshine. He could call Zephyra, but her advanced pregnancy precluded stress and somehow he suspected this was a stressful situation because it looked like Spring was going into shock.

"Spring?"

Finally, she looked at him.

"Seatbelt."

She unfastened it and then got out of the car. Normally he would have offered his hand, but the blood was flowing a bit more freely now. So he let her close the car door and start walking to the emergency entrance. Seeing as she had lived in Mission City for her entire life, it was a safe bet she knew where she was going. He let her lead, comfortable to be a step behind. She went up to the admitting desk and asked, "Belinda Oliphant?"

"Hey Spring," the bright bubbly woman said. "How are you?"

"Belinda," Spring repeated. "How is she?"

"You're not family," Pauline said. Then she noticed Colton. "Corporal, you're bleeding." Dozens of times he'd asked her to call him Colton, but she stood on ceremony and was a stickler for the rules.

"It's not so bad," he said. "But we really need to know about Belinda."

"Oh, well in that case, just give me a minute."

Colton didn't like implying he was asking for professional reasons, but there was no way Pauline was going to give them information otherwise. She was back in about a minute.

"They're pumping her stomach with the charcoal," she reported. "She's still unresponsive, but they're watching her vitals carefully. You know about her? I mean, you know what happened to her?"

"Overdose, we think," Colton said. "But we'll wait for the medical opinion."

Pauline leaned closer, "they're thinking suicide attempt."

That seemed to bring Spring out of her stupor. "Attempt, right? Because she's not going to die."

"That's always hard to say," Pauline said. "Depends how much she took, how long it was in her system, and how fast they're able to pump it out. Doctor Jacobs is working on her now."

Seth's wife, Colton knew, and he said a quick thanks to the powers that be that Jocelyne was working. She'd only been back from maternity leave for about a week, so this was just luck. Not that the other doctors weren't competent, but Colton knew and trusted Doc.

"We have no next of kin listed for her. You know someone we should call?"

Spring shook her head. "Her mother died and she...she told me she was all alone."

"Real sad, that," Pauline commented. "You a friend or something?"

Colton was about to answer when Spring straightened up. "Yes, I am. I just saw her the other day."

Which was news to Colton, but somehow he shouldn't have been surprised. Was this the reason for Belinda's attempted suicide?

"Well, that's nice of you, to come here. But I think I need to get someone to look at the Corporal's arm."

Spring turned quickly and gaped at him. "Why didn't you say something?"

She was back, he realized, from wherever she had gone.

Pauline sat at the computer. "Do you have your health card?"

"Yes, it's in my wallet which is in my back pocket..."

Spring was already reaching and pulling it out. She located his universal health card and handed it over. "Will this take long," Spring asked. "He's bleeding."

"It's not bad," Colton tried, but Spring wasn't impressed.

"You're just some macho man, but you're probably going to need stitches."

Oh yes, his Spring was back.

His Spring? She was nobody's, least of all his. Yet still, as she looked up into his eyes, he felt that strange pull.

"This way, Corporal."

Pauline began to lead him to the patient area when he noticed Spring following.

"You can stay in the waiting room," he began.

"Never going to happen, Colton, because if I leave you alone then you'll do something stupid like get stitches without anesthetic."

Wouldn't have been the first time. Still, it was nice to have someone who cared. Well, cared was probably a stretch. Cared as in one human to another as opposed to...what? Why was he looking at her differently? What had happened? When had it happened? Most importantly, what was he going to do about it?

"You sit here, Corporal, and the nurse will be here shortly. You should apply pressure to that wound." He obeyed, wrapping his left hand around his right arm. Then Pauline pointed to a chair. "You can sit there."

Spring sat.

Pauline gave them one last wave and was off.

Colton was patient, waiting for Spring to say something, anything, but it wasn't happening. Seconds bled into moments which bled into minutes.

"How are you?"

She looked up, startled. "Not about to get stitches," she said.

"Can we talk about what happened?"

Her eyes went wide again and Colton wondered if he was going to lose her.

"How about I talk?"

She didn't look pleased at that idea.

"Obviously you went to see Belinda." He worked hard to modulate and moderate his voice. "Can you tell me why?"

Spring pulled her lower lip through her teeth. "I just realized I hadn't seen her in a while, like since her mother's funeral. I figured it was time to go see her."

"Now, I know what you're telling me might be partly true, but I think we both know that's not the whole truth."

She nodded. "Okay, I wanted to talk to her about you."

He nodded, encouragingly.

"And it didn't go well," she supplied. "But I never thought she would try to kill herself, Colton, I swear that to you. I would never have left if I'd thought she was suicidal. I might have left my business card as well as Kennedy's-"

Colton felt an odd sense of dread. "So you implied you thought she was mentally ill."

Spring shook her head. "No. I just suggested if she wanted help for her drinking problem..." Without warning, she dropped her head into her hands. "I'd heard things," she said. "Mission City is a small town and word got back to me from Alyssa who waitresses at The Grand. We all went to school together and she told me Belinda had been drinking. The hard stuff, you know? And a lot of it. So Chantale mentioned Belinda's name and you admitted she was the one...I just thought..."

"Thought what," he asked gently, all the while wanting to strangle her.

"That if I could offer her friendship, she might open up about what happened between the two of you."

Colton exhaled on a sigh. "That was very nice of you, Spring, but you shouldn't have done that. Don't you see, this muddies the waters?"

Finally, she looked up, meeting his eyes. "I guess," she said. "I mean, I didn't mean to do anything bad. I didn't think something like this would happen."

"None of us could have foreseen this." Yet even as he said the words, he wondered about their truth. He and Dorrie had seen how close to the edge Belinda had been after the first rape. Again, he cursed his own stupidity for being so piss-poor at how he had handled the whole situation. If he had it to do over...except life wasn't like that. There were no do-overs. He couldn't take back the night he had let her into his condo.

"Okay, Colton, let's see this wound."

The bubbly and busty Mona bustled in. She was one of the friendliest nurses on the rotation and was always quick with a smile. She never seemed to tire, even after a twelve-hour shift. She reminded him of Rainbow Dixon who seemed to have a perpetually perky outlook on life. Spring was far more nuanced in her approach to the world.

Mona grabbed a pair of shears and went to work on his shirt. Some of the fabric had begun to stick to the wound, so it was a bit of work to separate fabric from skin, but she was methodical and pretty soon she was easing him out of his shirt.

Spring sucked in a breath and Colton caught her staring at his arm which was pretty shredded.

"You didn't say anything," she accused.

"Was a little busy with other things," he said back, his tone acerbic. He wasn't feeling like he needed to mollycoddle her anymore. He'd gotten his answers and she was back to her sarcastic self. How long it would last, he couldn't say. He was concerned, though, that she might slip back into that dark place if they got bad news about Belinda.

Mona ignored them back and began debriding the wound. "There's some glass here," she said. "And I'll have to check with Doc, but you will probably need a few stitches."

Not what he wanted to hear. "Can't you just bandage it up?"

She tisked at him. "Probably not. Now, are you up-to-date with your tetanus?"

"Just last year, in fact," Colton said. "Perp bit me."

Spring's jaw dropped open. "He bit you?"

"What? Oh, no, she bit me."

"A female perp?"

Colton grinned. "She had a habit of going around the park and exposing herself to young boys."

"Oh my God. How did I not hear about this?"

"We tried to keep it under wraps because she had gone off her meds...again. She's a repeat offender. Not that exposing herself isn't a serious crime, but given the other things I see, it's not quite so bad."

"And she bit you?"

Colton smiled ruefully. "We set up a sting in the park and I had to chase her. I caught her and she turned and bit my neck."

Mona clucked and Spring cringed.

"And, as always, she sent me a thank you card once she was back on her meds."

"I guess that's okay then," Spring said cautiously. "But why doesn't she just stay on her meds?"

"Because she feels better and thinks she doesn't need them. We see that a lot around here," Mona said.

"You know who he's talking about?"

Mona nodded. "She's what we call a frequent flier. Social services tries to keep track of her, but she's not high priority because of their workload. They're more concerned with the serious cases."

"As it should be," Spring said. She turned to Colton. "You deal a lot with social services, don't you?"

He cringed as Mona pulled out a shard which was deeply embedded. "I do," he confirmed. "It's the kids that get to me. I mean, all victims are in rough shape, but you think about the kids and how helpless they are. They can't escape. They don't choose to stay."

"Like the battered women," Spring supplied.

"We have a few frequent fliers from there as well," Mona said. "We ask them to talk to the cops. We offer to find them a bed at Lissa's Place. We beg them not to go back, but they always think this time will be different."

"But it rarely is," Colton said. He sucked in another breath. Then he felt Spring take his left hand which still had dried blood on it. He tried to pull back, but she only held on tighter.

"This is my fault."

He wanted to reassure her, but he couldn't. Mona's presence was one reason, but the other was it might turn out her visit had something to do with Belinda's actions. He would get Seth to soften the blow, but Spring might be facing some tough questions.

"Let's just wait and see," he said neutrally. "If you hadn't grabbed the tire iron, though, then she would have died."

He caught her eye and there was, for just a moment, a sheen of tears. Then she blinked and it was gone. She was holding herself up, but she was on shaky ground.

"You forgot your coat," he said.

She looked at him as if he was a little crazy.

"It's November," he reminded her. "It's going to be cold when we get out of here. I was thinking you might call one of your sisters and have her bring a coat. Which one might be able to help?"

"Well, let me think about that...all of them, you idiot. Each and every one would be here right now if they thought I needed them."

"So you'll call one of them?"

Spring's mouth twisted. "Sunshine lives closest."

Had to be his ex-wife, Colton thought. "Isn't she planning a wedding," he asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"She is," Spring confirmed. "But that's not for another week."

"Well aren't brides supposed to be stressed about stuff like that?"

Spring actually smiled. "It will be the fourth wedding at the ranch since May, so I think we're okay."

"Four?"

"Our friend Ellie, then Zephyra and Rafe, then Kennedy and Ted."

So many weddings, he thought. "I guess they're pretty organized, then."

Spring nodded. "Actually, Sunshine left a lot of the details up to Hawk's mother. Hawk's mother adores Sunshine."

It was Colton's turn to nod. "Yes, Dorrie was saying something about that."

She snapped her fingers. "That's right. Dorrie and I are going to be in-laws."

And Dorrie was his partner, so there was yet another connection to the Dixon sisters. Except Dorrie wasn't his partner anymore. He was out of special victims, probably forever. He wasn't sure Dorrie was ready to leave, let alone if she would be willing to partner with him again. What had she suggested? Traffic? That still stung.

At that moment Dr. Jocelyne Baldwin-Jacobs breezed in. She was tall, blonde, and beautiful. She had blue eyes which were always sparkling with happiness.

"Where's Claudette," Colton asked, trying to ignore the pain from his arm. "I mean both you and Seth are working..."

"Claudette is with Seth's mother. You would think my daughter was has first grandchild as opposed to the tenth."

"Grandmother's prerogative," Spring said. "Mine died when I was quite young and I missed that time I used to spend with her. I was the sixth grandchild, but she always found a way to treat me like I was the only child. She managed to do that with each of the girls."

Jocelyne snapped her finger. "I knew you were one of the sisters, but I wasn't sure which one. Spring, right?"

Spring nodded.

"And you're a reporter?"

Spring nodded.

"It was a fair article," Jocelyne said, "but you need more than anecdotal letters. You need to speak to victims and see how he impacted their lives."

"'He's' right here," Colton pointed out.

"I would love to, but it would be hard not only for me to track them down, but to then ask them to go on the record..." She let her voice trail off.

Jocelyne nodded and gave her an odd look. "Well, you've got one right here."

Colton felt a surge of an emotion he didn't understand. What Jocelyne had faced was private and not for the public's consumption. "Jocelyne-" he began.

She cut him a look. "You were the one, need I remind you. You told me it wasn't my fault and I shouldn't feel ashamed."

"Well of course it wasn't your fault. I'm just not sure you should be talking about this."

"Are you worried about people judging me?"

"I'm worried about you later regretting it. You won't be the only one who will be impacted if you make this decision." He was probably pointing out the obvious, but it had to be said.

"Seth will stand behind me," she replied. "He'll support whatever decision I make."

"Of course he will," Colton said, "that's not what I meant. It's just that once something's on the internet, it's there forever. If you want to change jobs or when Claudette gets older, you may not want that information out there."

"We can do this anonymously," Spring offered.

"No," Jocelyne said firmly. "Anonymity should be used with anyone else who comes forward, but I want my name on the record." She rounded on Colton. "You taught me to not be ashamed of what happened."

His eyes softened, his resolve waivered. "You're always too stubborn for your own good, not realizing you don't have to be the strong one all the time."

"I like being strong," she said, pulling up a stool to look at Colton's arm. "A couple of these gashes are going to need stitches."

He looked at her with something akin to disbelief. "You're a hot-shot trauma surgeon and you're going to stitch up my arm?"

She grinned. "If someone comes in requiring a hot-shot surgeon, I'll abandon you. Look at it this way - I stitch really well as I've had lots of practice."

Since he couldn't argue with that, he watched as she gave him the numbing agent. She turned to Spring. "This will take a few minutes and be kind of gross-"

"I'm staying," Spring said, a stubborn lift in her chin. She squeezed his hand, warning him to disagree with her.

Wisely, he held his tongue. And as the numbing agent took effect, he took a breath, enjoying the easing of the pain. He was being stoic because that was all he knew. Since Jocelyne was competent, it took no time at all for him to be stitched up.

"I'm going to get Mona to bandage the arm," the doctor said. "You'll need to change it a couple of times a day which should be a sufficient challenge, but something tells me you'll manage. I don't think there will be scars, but then you probably don't care about things like that."

"I don't," he assured her. "There are more important things in life."

"You saved her life," Jocelyne said, catching Colton off-guard for a moment.

"It was Spring," he said. "I just did what she told me to do."

"And yet you have multiple cuts in your arm." She turned to Spring. "She owes her life to you as well."

"How is she," Spring asked.

"On a ventilator and unconscious, but we were able to empty her stomach." She looked back and forth between the two of them. "She had a very high level of the drug in her system. Looks like she opened the capsules and mixed the drug with a bit of ice cream. She must have known how quickly it would get into her blood stream, depress her breathing and shut her body down." She hesitated. "I've seen my share of overdoses over the years - intentional and accidental. This is one of the most serious I've ever seen. She planned on dying."

"Yet she called me," Spring said. "Maybe that means she changed her mind in the end."

"Even if she hadn't aspirated her own vomit, she would have been dead in a very short period of time. Honestly, it's amazing she's alive."

Colton felt a terrifying ache deep in his chest. In a perverse way, this was his fault. If he hadn't had sex with Belinda then none of this would have happened.

Spring squeezed his hand. "You didn't do this. If anyone's to blame, it's me."

Jocelyne gave each of them a long look. "I won't ask because it's none of my business." She snapped off her rubber gloves and dropped them into the waste receptacle. "I have to get going to check on Belinda. Spring, call me and we'll set something up."

Before Colton could object, she was gone. Before Colton could comment, Mona was back in, bandage in hand. She set about bandaging his arm. "Twice a day, watch for oozing or signs of infection. Take the antibiotics as prescribed and painkillers for the first few days because this is going to hurt." She held up her hand to cut off any potential arguments. "I know you're a macho man, but this is one of those times when you just suck it up and do what you're told. You'll heal faster if you're not in pain."

Colton wasn't sure he believed her, but he could see her point. The thought of being in pain wasn't particularly pleasant.

"I'll make sure he gets bandaged and he takes his pills," Spring said.

He turned to gape at her. And how exactly did she plan to do that? Move in with him?

"I'll be fine on my own," he quickly assured her.

"Well, we've seen how well you've coped on your own," Spring said sarcastically.

He wasn't sure what she meant by that, but wasn't going to ask with Mona in the room. Then he was stopped from saying anything when Officer Andrew Blaise and Officer Bonnie Noland stepped into the curtained area, both in uniform.

Forcefully, he pulled his hand from Spring's. "Get out of here," he said he hissed.

As if she hadn't heard him, she unfolded herself from the chair and held out her hand. "Spring Dixon," she said.

Bonnie shook her hand first then Andrew did the same. "We would like to question both of you," Bonnie said.

"Of course," Spring replied. "Except does Colton need his lawyer? What if you've decided he did something wrong and you try to get him to confess?"

"Did he do something wrong," Andrew asked.

"No," Spring said quickly. "Neither of us did."

"So you didn't trespass, you didn't damage property, you didn't break and enter?"

Spring sputtered. "You're kidding, right?" She turned to Bonnie. "Tell me he's kidding."

Bonnie shrugged. "You did all those things, didn't you?"

"Belinda would be dead," Spring argued and Colton lay a hand on her arm. He could see her getting them in even more trouble than they were already.

"So you say," Andrew replied.

"So the doctor says," Spring argued. Tying to shirk off Colton's hand, she rounded on the cops. "Would you have felt better if she had died? What kind of sick people are you?"

"We're people who are trying to understand what happened," Andrew said. "So you can either help or be a hindrance."

"Help," Colton said. "And I know what you're thinking. Miss Dixon can provide justification for being there, but I can't. I was ordered to stay away from Miss Oliphant and yet there I was, in her house."

Bonnie shrugged. "So that might be a question we might ask. Unless you want to get your lawyer."

He did want Chantale, but he knew that would only make him look guilty, so he took a breath. "Ask your questions," he said, trying not to sound defeated.

&96)&