A sharp knock on the door brought Chantale quickly awake. Declan was already up and fumbling for a robe. As soon as he was decent, he opened the door.

"Sorry to wake you," Seth said, "but you're going to want to hear this." With that, the cop was gone.

Chantale pushed her hair from her face. "What time is it?"

"Just after seven."

She rolled on her back and struggled to sit up. Declan was there in an instant to help her. "Help me get dressed," she asked. "A sweater and the jeans from yesterday will be fine."

"Maybe Seth only meant me," he said. "You're still tired."

"Don't make me cranky, Declan, and don't you dare argue because I haven't even had my first cup of coffee."

He backed away. "You use the washroom first."

She bit back a grin at his about-face. He was learning, she thought, not to mess with her before her first café. He was there to help her dress and to pull her hair into a ponytail although he'd been a little too gentle and the thing was pulling to one side. Nothing to be done about it, she thought, as she waited for him to get ready. She'd wanted to go out right away, but wasn't going to make Seth tell the story twice.

When Declan was ready, they went to the kitchen where her coffee was ready as was a pot of tea. Only Jocelyne was there and Chantale gave her a look. "They're all in the dining room."

They? How many was they?

As it turned out, there were five people waiting. Colton and Seth, she'd expected. She hadn't foreseen their boss Greg joining them. Nick was there along with the senior partner of their firm, Bennett MacDougal.

"What's happened?"

"Just sit, Chantale," Nick urged. "We'll all sit."

At his suggestion, everyone sat. Declan sat next to her and grasped her hand under the table.

Chantale could think of half a dozen reasons why she was facing this group of men and none of them was good.

It was Bennett who finally spoke. "The office was firebombed about one o'clock this morning."

Chantale sucked in air as best as she could, but she felt like she was going to be sick. The beautiful office, all set up so recently. It had been open barely three months, so everything was new.

"How bad-" She cleared her throat. "How bad?"

"A total loss," Bennett said. "The only good thing is that we use an outside data server, so client files haven't been lost. Anything that was paper only, though, is gone. For the next few days we're telling everyone to work from home. We'll get Miriam and Ewan to reconstruct the files as best as they can. When things have died down, we'll move back into Nick's old office on Third Avenue."

"No," Chantale said, "you can't run the risk. It's too much."

Bennett shrugged. "We're installing 24/7 security until the perpetrator is arrested, so there's nothing to worry about."

"We can't afford-"

"We'll afford whatever it takes for me to keep my people safe," Bennett said.

"The whole staff is in agreement on this Chantale," Nick added. "It's a done deal."

Declan turned to Chantale. "You're fired."

She was absolutely stunned.

He released her hand and stood up abruptly, almost knocking over his chair. Chantale rose as quickly as she could, grabbing his arm.

"Think about this," she said. "Let's talk this out before we do anything rash."

"Rash? Rash?" His voice was raising. "God, woman, you're dense. Someone is trying to kill you and you think I'm acting rashly? I wanted to fire you the day I found out you were getting death threats, but I let you dissuade me and that was a big mistake. You're not thinking clearly, Chantale, you never have been. You never should have gotten involved in this and I never should have let you move in." He turned to the audience. "I'm calling the media right now to let them know I've fired her. The first internet reports should be out by the hour and will be in tomorrow 's papers."

"You're assuming they'll read the papers," Chantale argued. "Or that they'll believe it or if they'll even care. The damage might already have been done, did you think about that? They've put a bull's eye on me and there might be nothing to be done. Look, there's no point on doing anything on this now-"

"Because it would be like closing the barn door after the horse is already out?" His voice had that cold and menacing tone which always shook Chantale, but she shelved her discomfort.

"Give it to the end of the day," she said, cringing at the tinge of desperation in her voice. "Maybe something will break in the case."

"Not likely," Colton said and Chantale shot him a look. He merely shrugged. "I'm just saying we're not close enough to an arrest to think a few hours will make any difference."

"Regardless," Sergeant Wilder said, "we're moving you both to a safe house out of town. There's just too much risk to my officers as well as the two of you. Until we have the perpetrators in jail, you two are going to be off the grid. Remy Stevens is preparing the paperwork to take to the judge as soon as the court opens."

"That's not happening either," Declan said. "I want my bail revoked and I'm going back to Ferndale. Take Chantale wherever you think she'll be safest, but I promise you it won't be with me. If she's off the case and I'm not around then she should be safer."

Panic swelled in her chest. "Declan, you don't need to go back to jail. I'll agree to protective custody once I've interviewed Nikita. We'll go together and we'll keep working on your defence."

"You stupid woman," he hissed, "it was nice while it lasted, but it's over. I want a real lawyer, not some bimbo whose daddy paid her way into law school and who failed the bar twice. I want someone who'll focus on my case and not on screwing me. Again, how many clients have you bedded?" He shook off her hand and she let it drop. When he stalked away she followed.

He was quicker, though, and slammed the bedroom door in her face and she heard the lock. With her good arm, she pounded on the door.

"Open the door, Declan. Open the door and take back what you said." Her voice caught on a sob. "Open the door and tell them you didn't mean it. Open the door and..." Then she did cry. Hot tears streaked down her face and she pressed her forehead against the door. "Please, Declan, talk to me. Tell me why you're doing this" Her voice was no more than a broken whisper.

She tried to shirk off the arms put around her in comfort, but they were persistent. Instead of fighting, she let Jocelyne lead her away. And then, even though she wanted desperately to crawl into a corner and hide, she allowed herself to be led back to the dining room.

Seth, Greg and Colton were off to one side talking while Nick and Bennett were off to another, clearly deep in conversation.

Everyone stopped once they realized she was in the room.

Greg stepped forward. "We'll wait for you to pack. I'm going to escort you to Remy Stevens' office and then we'll move you to protective custody. Pritchard and Jacobs are going to return Byrne to Ferndale. Any questions?"

Numbly, she shook her head. What questions could she possibly ask? How about, please forget everything that just happened or maybe please talk Declan out of going back to jail? Or maybe please don't think I'm a whore just because I had sex with my client?

Words, wouldn't come. So she simply nodded.

"We'll wait out front for you," Greg said. "Take your time."

Why prolong what had become the inevitable?

Still, she stayed rooted to the spot and watched the police officers beat a hasty, but dignified retreat.

"Dr. Jacobs, do you think you can leave us?" Bennett's voice was cool and there was no smile. None of the usual light in his eyes.

Jocelyne pressed a hand to Chantale's arm. "Do you want me to stay?"

Chantale shook her head. Without meeting her sister's eyes, she asked, "could you start packing? The clothes are in the spare room."

"Of course," Jocelyne said, giving Chantale's arm a squeeze. "Just call me if you need me." She gave Bennett and Nick a warning look before she left, but Chantale wasn't even aware of it.

It was Nick who stepped forward. "You had sex with Byrne? What the hell were you thinking?"

Apparently she hadn't been, Chantale thought, her gut churning.

"I'll resign-"

"That's the least of your problems," Bennett pointed out. "In front of two lawyers and three members of law enforcement, your client admitted that you, what was the word he used? Oh, I remember, screwed. That you screwed him instead of doing your job."

Now, she saw red. "That's not fair. I have logged over sixty hours in less than a week working on this case. We kept the screwing to the nocturnal hours when I wouldn't have been working anyway."

She could feel her eyes filling with tears and, despite the fact she was in the presence of her boss and a colleague whom she held in great esteem, she crumbled.

Nick was there to catch her and guide her to a chair. He pulled one alongside while Bennett held out a handkerchief. Grateful, Chantale took it and rather inelegantly blew her nose. "I love the law," she whispered. "I can't believe I got myself in this mess."

"Well, we can plead emotional distress since your life was under threat, your condo had been broken into, your office bombed, as well as the fact you got shot," Nick offered. "Those will all carry some weight with the review board."

"I'll accept the censure," Chantale said. "My only hope is that because I haven't committed a crime, I won't be disbarred."

"You aren't the first lawyer to sleep with her client and you won't be the last," Bennett said. "And your resignation is not accepted. I want you to interview this woman today and then hand the case over to Nick."

Chantale's head snapped up. "It's not safe."

Bennett shrugged. "I've hired 24/7 security for Nick's place as well. He and Lacey have talked about this and they're okay with it."

Chantale shook her head but Nick paid her no mind. "It's a done deal, Chantale. I would take the interview myself, but I want a woman to do it. I'll box up the files and take them to my place. The security guard is already in place."

"This is crazy-"

"Did he do it?"

Chantale looked up at Bennett. "No, Bennett, he didn't. He's innocent."

"And that's not just hormones talking?"

She sighed. She deserved that, so she would suck it up. "I think I knew from the moment Jamie Cole stepped into my office. I had my doubts about his guilt when I looked at the evidence and since then, those doubts have only solidified. Take Nikita out of the equation and there's only exclusionary evidence." She turned to Nick. "As crazy as it sounds, I think the young woman slipped him a date rape drug."

"You're right, that sounds crazy," Nick assured her. "Get her to admit it and I'll get the charge thrown out."

"I know I sound like a broken record, Nick, but they've got to catch this guy."

"I'll apply the pressure," Nick said. "And it will probably help that I'm not the ex-girlfriend of the lead investigator."

Bennett let out a decidedly uncouth oath. "Is there anything else I should know?"

Chantale ran through the case in her mind, searching for any more conflicts of interest. "No, I think that about sums it up. Oh, wait. My sister is friends with the older sister of one of the victims."

Bennett let out a snicker. "That's what I get for opening a practice in a small town. I'm heading back to Vancouver as soon as humanly possible."

His comment brought a smile to Chantale's lips. "You're a good man, Bennett. As are you," she said, turning to Nick. "Tell Lacey I'm sorry for putting her in the middle of this."

Nick only waved his hand. "She's excited we'll have police around." He sobered. "I saw the police report of what happened to your condo. I think you were targeted because of both your gender and your connection with Byrne."

Chantale flashed back to those horrible words. "I hope you're right." She glanced up when Jocelyne entered the room. "I have to go." She stood, as did Nick, and she shook hands with both men. "Fix this, Nick. He's innocent."

Nick nodded. "I'll do my best."

Then Chantale let Jocelyne lead the way out of Declan's place. When Greg drove her away in his car, she didn't even look back.

Declan heard the rap on the door.

"Byrne, it's Nick. She's gone."

He didn't have to ask who the 'she' was. He grabbed the small bag he'd packed with toiletries and other things he knew he was allowed to bring with him when he went to jail. He'd learned from his first experience, he thought. Unlocking the door, he stepped into the corridor.

"I just need to grab some paper, pens, and a few books for my den and then I'll be ready to go."

Nick looked at his small bag. "You're going to need more than that. This could last weeks. I'm thinking at least several changes of clothes."

Declan frowned. "I can't take clothes into prison."

Nick's brow shot up and he let out a bark of laughter. "You think I'm letting you go back to prison? Oh, hell, Chantale would kill me. Nope, you're going into protective custody in another location. Remy's arranged it, Seth and Colton will escort you. You won't be anywhere near Chantale, you'll be glad to know." Nick slapped him on the back. "You'll also be pleased to know she bought the whole routine."

"Routine?"

"Oh, buddy, don't even try to pull one over on me. Chantale would have seen it if she hadn't been so exhausted and upset. I think you went a little far with the 'screw' comment and she might get censured for that..."

"But she'll be safe," Declan said. "She'll be safe."

"Yes, she'll be safer than she would be otherwise. It was an incredibly selfless thing that you did-"

"Hardly," Declan scoffed.

Nick simply smiled with a touch of wistfulness. "It takes a lot of guts for a man to send away the woman he loves."

"I don't-"

"Oh, buddy, don't try to pull that one over on me either. I was a little slow to realize I was in love with my wife, but once I did, a whole new world opened up for me." He paused. "There was a time when I thought she would be better off without me, but she's almost as stubborn as your Chantale. Almost," he said, "which is why everyone's letting you get away with this. Just so you know, I'll be in the car with you while you're getting transported. Nothing like your client being alone with his ex-girlfriend's ex-boyfriend and brother-in-law to get a lawyer's dander up."

"I'm going to prison," Declan began, desperate to make the man understand.

Nick shook his head. "Not with me as your lawyer, you're not."

Declan closed his eyes and looked upward. "Was is it with you lawyers, cops, and doctors? Do none of you listen?"

"Not really," Nick said, rather unhelpfully. "Now go pack a real suitcase so we can get you out of here."

Deciding there was nothing left to say, Declan went to pack the bag, packed another one full of books and writing materials and then got into a car with Nick, Seth, and Colton.

He'd never thought he would say it, but he was glad he had a lawyer on his side.

Chantale paced back and forth in the confines of the little apartment where she'd been put. The constable, having tired of Chantale's frenetic movements, had taken herself into the bedroom and was reading a book. Instructions to Chantale had been brief - stay away from the windows and don't answer the door. She personally thought it was a little much to give her a minder, but she knew Greg wasn't taking any chances.

She should be rejoicing, but instead she was brooding.

Nikita had folded and then crumbled after about twenty minutes of questioning. Then she had admitted the whole thing and it had been as convoluted as Chantale had first thought. There had been a young man who, upon seeing Nikita's crush on her new English Professor, had left her. Then she had discovered herself pregnant and had panicked. She'd gone to a high school friend who knew someone who knew a drug dealer and had scored roofies and boner pills. She had slipped them into Declan's tea, waiting for him to pass out. From there she had...manipulated him. Chantale was still cringing when she thought of what Declan had been put through - the sexual assault and the confusing aftermath. He hadn't known what had happened to him and had to live with that. Chantale knew he would be relieved he had not had sex with a student, nor was he the father of her baby. Chantale had relayed the news to Nick who would undoubtedly share it with Declan.

Chantale knew she should be doing a happy dance as Remy had grudgingly withdrawn the charges surrounding Nikita's allegations. The prosecutor had been stubborn about dropping the other charges, pointing out that Declan was still the only point of confluence between the other four women. Reasonable doubt, Chantale kept telling herself. With Autumn Dixon as a witness, there was always a chance for reasonable doubt. Of course if they would just find the rapist that would solve everything.

How long was she to stay here?

More pacing.

Who was trying to kill Declan and herself? If Remy had been willing to drop the charges, that might have been enough, but Chantale doubted it. Until they found the real perpetrator, Declan's life was in danger and she would be forced into living in this...cage. A nice, cage, mind, but a type of prison nonetheless. She had brought an e-reader full of books she'd always intended to read in her spare time before she'd been willing to admit she had little spare time. Now, she had all the time in the world, but she lacked the concentration to absorb anything.

Then something was slipped under the door. A manila envelope with her name on it.

"Constable Langlois...?"

Something in her tone must have alerted the young woman because she came out with her hand on the butt of her gun. She saw the envelope and pushed Chantale towards the kitchen and away from the door. The Constable pulled her gun then glanced through the peephole. Apparently seeing nothing, she re-holstered her weapon. She reached for her radio and called dispatch to request a forensic tech. When she was done, Chantale spoke.

"You and I both know there won't be any fingerprints."

The Constable shrugged. "Probably, but I have to go by protocol. I know you want to see the contents, but you're going to have to wait."

Chantale let out a strangled laugh. "All I have time to do it wait. What's another few hours?"

Sophie shot her a quick grin, "see, that's the right attitude." Her French accent was thicker than Chantale's and although Sophie was from a different part of French Canada, Chantale felt a wave of nostalgia for her home in Montréal. Not her father's house, of course, but for her old practice and clients. She had been on her own, no one depending on her and no one to depend on. She hadn't been responsible for anyone, like she now felt for Nick and Lacey. If she hadn't taken the case then her friends wouldn't, as she spoke, be under private security guard.

She offered Sophie a small smile, "I really am trying, Constable Langlois."

"It's Sophie," the Constable reminded her. "If we're going to be this intimate, the least you can do is call me by my first name."

"Sophie," Chantale said quietly, "would you like some tea or coffee while we wait for the forensics tech?"

Sophie's grin was wide and bright, showing off perfect teeth. "I never turn down the chance for coffee."

"Great," Chantale said. "There's one of those single-serve things, but the coffees are all straight black."

"The way I prefer it, thanks."

So Chantale set about making two mugs, surprised when there was a knock at the door. Sophie again checked the door, her hand hovering by her weapon. She opened the door.

A short compact woman with closely cropped bright red hair stepped through the threshold. "Sophie."

"Pepper." Sophie's expression softened. "I didn't expect to see you so soon."

Pepper shrugged. "I was called out on a B&E on an abandoned property a few miles out of town. Someone reported seeing a car coming out of the driveway and figured something was up. Since it was only about a mile from the Byrne place, Greg called me in to see what I could do."

"And," Chantale prompted.

"The place is cleaner than any scene I've ever worked. Not a speck of dust, not a bit of dirt. No fingerprints either, since the whole place had been completely wiped down."

Sophie's brow knitted. "So you figure someone's been living there."

"I would," Pepper said. "I was comfortable in saying the place had been occupied within the last twelve to twenty-four hours. There is no way that place has been abandoned for several months. Sergeant Wilder has put a car on it, but no one really believes the temporary occupants will be returning."

"Damn." Chantale's expletive had both women turning to her. "I just want this to be over," she said, by way of explanation. "If they could just catch the guy or guys then I can get my life back. Maybe Declan can as well."

Pepper and Sophie regarded her but said nothing.

Sophie pointed to the envelope on the floor. "This was dropped off about a half-an-hour ago. It was pushed under the door and we haven't touched it."

Pepper placed her kit on the floor, opened it, and pulled out a pair of gloves. "I'll take it down to the lab and do analysis. I should be able to report to you in twenty-four if I put it on priority."

"No way," Chantale said. "Sorry to be rude, but I'm not waiting that long." She made a lunge for the envelope, but the other women were quicker. Pepper pulled the envelope out of the way and Sophie blocked Chantale from stepping any closer.

"I need to open it in a clean room," Pepper said. "There have been threats against you so we can't be too careful."

Chantale snickered. "You think someone might have put anthrax in the envelope?"

Pepper shrugged. "It doesn't matter what I think. We have protocols. Look, I'll take it to the lab myself right now."

Sensing that arguing was only going to prolong the inevitable, Chantale nodded. "Please send me digital images of whatever is in there. It might be crucial to the investigation."

Placing the envelope into a plastic bag, Pepper nodded. "As soon as I know, you'll know." With that, she closed up her kit, gave a quick nod, and left.

More waiting was all Chantale could think.

"What are you working on?"

Declan glanced up wearily from his plate of macaroni and cheese to look at Colton. They had been in this safe house together for almost seven hours and hadn't said a word to each other since Nick and Seth had left. When Colton had offered to cook, Declan had deferred as he'd been wrapped up in his writing. He cleared his throat. "There's a book I've been meaning to write for about ten years now. Since I'm not teaching, grading papers, or doing research, I thought it was about time to start working on it. It's a shot in the dark, but I have to do something to occupy my mind or I think I will go insane."

Colton nodded. "So what's the book about?"

"It's about a friendship between two young boys growing up on either side of the conflict in Northern Ireland in the 1970's."

"Like you?"

Declan shrugged, "my experience might play into it, but these boys would be more than a decade older than me. There were boys in Belfast who were killed by one of the bombs and I want that to factor into my story." He waved dismissively. "It's pretty far out there to think I could write a novel."

Now, Colton's brow furrowed. "You're an English professor and you don't think you can write? How does that work?"

"Writing a doctoral dissertation on the Canadian short story isn't the same as writing a novel of fiction. Aside from a creative writing class I took in third year, I haven't ventured into the world of imagination."

Colton eyed him. "What about writing a mystery? Like who raped four young women?"

Fighting to keep his temper in check, Declan shrugged. "At least it's only four and not five." He couldn't help it, his eyes flashed. "I told you I didn't have sex with Nikita and I was right. I'm telling you I didn't rape those girls. Whether you choose to believe me is up to you."

"Why did you have sex with Chantale?"

Declan had to fight with the change of subject. "That's hardly your concern."

"Isn't it?" The cop leaned towards him with a look of contempt on his face. "Everything to do with Chantale is my concern. Especially if she gets tangled up with the likes of you."

"Yet she's not derided for getting tangled up with the likes of you? You've been nothing but derogatory to her and I'm confused about that." Something flashed across Colton's face which surprised Declan. "You really love her."

He could see the denial forming, but then it disappeared. "It doesn't matter how I feel about her," Colton asserted. "We...we weren't meant to be together so it was easier to end it before it became more serious."

"It was serious for her," Declan asserted. "You really hurt her."

Colton's face shuttered. "It was just supposed to be a fun affair. I don't know when things changed, but they did. What used to be amusing had become serious and I don't do serious."

Declan considered. "It's you loss. She is a very special woman."

"Your loss as well," Colton countered. "You're the one who screwed her over today. She might get censured from the law society."

"Or she might get her life saved," Declan countered. "Plus, I didn't see anyone in that room ready to report her except you and I think you'll stop at that level of destruction."

"I will," Colton acknowledged. "And you're right that no one in that room will report her. Every person in that room is on her side and a few are on yours as well."

"But not you."

Colton hesitated before answering. "Let's just say I think Chantale getting involved with an accused rapist shows extremely poor judgement on her part."

Declan didn't miss that he'd gone from being a rapist to an accused rapist. He could have pressed his advantage, but he opted not to. If there was any chance Colton might be having second thoughts, Declan would let them form organically. "I didn't mean to hurt her, Pritchard. I did what I thought was best for her."

"So did I," Colton asserted. "So that either makes us saints or bastards."

"Or both."

Chantale hadn't expect to sleep, but she had, deeply and dreamlessly. She put on more clothes which didn't fit and shuffled into the kitchen. Sophie was back, having replaced the big, burly constable who had uttered all of two words to her. He'd bade her good night, not even looking up from the book he'd been reading. He had definitely not look pleased at his assignment of guarding her, but he'd said nothing. She could only hope Declan's guards were friendlier than that guy.

She took the mug of steaming coffee from Sophie with a smile of pure gratitude. "Merci."

"De rien." Sophie paused. "Do you mind if I watch the morning news?"

Chantale waved her assent as she began digging through the kitchen for cereal and milk. She was quite pleased when she was able to locate both, making herself a decent breakfast. She joined Sophie on the couch.

The first three stories passed in a blur as she held in check her urge to demand to know what was in the envelope that had been dropped off yesterday.

The fourth story caught her attention. A second student from Simon Fraser University had been found sexually assaulted and strangled in her apartment near campus. Like the previous victims, she had lived alone. The police were issuing a warning to all female students, especially those who lived alone, to be vigilant.

"How close is Simon Fraser University to Mission City?"

Sophie considered. "I think about thirty kilometres, maybe less. Why?"

"What if it's the same man?" She began to chew on the idea. "What if it was too risky to continue in Mission City so he moved on to...where is the university?"

"SFU is in Burnaby, near Vancouver."

Chantale snapped her fingers. "So it's not inconceivable this is the same guy."

Sophie regarded her dubiously. "I thought he didn't kill the women. The women in the city were killed."

"Maybe he's gotten both smarter and bolder," Chantale countered. "No witnesses to give a description." She rose to retrieve her cellphone. "I need to call Nick. Maybe he can convince the cops to coordinate."

"I think you're reaching," Sophie said, "but I guess you don't have anything to lose."

"Not to lose," Chantale assured her, "but everything to gain."

Greg and Seth were grim-faced when they arrived a couple of hours later. It was the Sergeant who handed Chantale a copy of what had been slid under her door.

"How did they find me so quickly? I mean, I trust we weren't tailed yesterday." She tried to keep the frigidity from seeping through, but it was hard. She was livid.

"We weren't followed," Greg asserted. "This means there's a leak somewhere in the department."

"Or you were hacked," Chantale asserted.

"Don't think we haven't considered that," Greg said. "I've got one of the best computer forensic techs working on this. If someone managed to get through security, we'll find him."

Chantale sank to a chair. "If they gotten to me then they can get to Declan."

"We know that," Seth said. "We're moving him as well."

Greg turned to Sophie. "I want you to move Miss Baldwin and stay with her twenty-four/seven. I don't want there to be any shift changes, I want round-the-clock security. Are you able to do that?"

Sophie nodded. "There's no problem with that. When do we move?"

"As soon as you get back from packing a bag. We're moving Byrne as well and assigning the same type of security. Constable Jacobs," he indicated Seth, "and I will be the only two other people who know where you'll be."

"Aren't you better off using me as bait," Chantale asked. "Since they know where I am, won't they be more likely to come after me?"

"We don't use civilians in that way," Greg asserted. But there was a flash, Chantale saw.

"I'll sign a waiver saying I understand the danger. Move Declan if you need to, but I'm staying put."

Sophie turned to her boss. "Let me go pack a bag and I'll stay here with the civilian."

Greg appeared to relent. "I'm going to put someone on the outside with eyes on the place. Again, no one but Seth and I will know. Until we figure out how our security is being breached, no one's getting a hold of the plans."

"But you'll move Declan," Chantale said.

"I'll give him the same choice I'm giving you," Greg said. "If he wants to stay where he is then I'll assign Constable Brigid to him."

Chantale tilted her head in question.

"The man who was here with you last night."

Now, she smiled. "Oh, Declan will just be thrilled to have a monosyllabic companion," she said.

Greg frowned. "Your protective guard aren't being chosen for the verbosity." He paused. "It's not like he and Pritchard would have had much to say to each other yesterday."

Chantale felt the blood drain from her face. "You left Colton and Declan alone yesterday?"

Now, Greg nodded. "With instructions to work out their problems. The report from Pritchard is they seem to have done that."

Closing her eyes against a rush of tears, Chantale turned away. So they had bonded over the 'Let's Dump Chantale Club'. Wow that hurt. Still, at least the two men weren't at each other's throats anymore. She wasn't even worth fighting over.

"I'll just go home and get my things," Sophie said, turning to Chantale. "Is there anything you need?"

Chantale shook her head. No, there was nothing she needed.

Two days had passed since he'd agreed to play sitting duck and nothing had happened. He had argued vehemently Chantale be moved to a safer location once he'd heard about the threat but, apparently, the damn stubborn woman had refused to leave. He did hope, however, she had better company than Constable Brigid. The man had asked if Declan minded if he watched television. Since Declan had no affinity to the device, he'd offered his assent. Now, aside from the security checks and when he was sleeping, the man had the television on all the time.

Not really caring, Declan had holed himself up with pen, paper, and the desk in one of the bedrooms. In a day he'd plotted out the basic structure. The next day he'd written a synopsis of each chapter. Now he had actually written the first few paragraphs. Truthfully, this was more challenging than anything he'd done previously, including defending his dissertation. Each word, phrase, sentence came from deep in him. He would need to do research into historical events, of course, but the Belfast of the 80's hadn't been that much different than the Belfast of the 70's. He knew he could describe the city, but what he wasn't sure about was whether he could capture what it had felt like. Then he reminded himself that he had nothing to lose and kept plodding through.

So engrossed was he, he started when Constable Brigid knocked on the door. "The Sergeant and Corporal Duhamel are here. You're going to want to hear this."

Declan rose, instinctively stretching to work out the kinks in his neck. He didn't even know how long he'd been working. When he stepped into the main living area of the apartment, he sensed the change of atmosphere. Dorrie and Greg weren't smiling - nor would he ever expect them to - but the creases of worry were gone.

"We got them," Greg said without preliminaries. "We got both of them."

"There were two rapists?" Declan was confused, but grateful.

Then he saw Dorrie's face and knew he'd been wrong.

"No," Greg said, "we got the two guys trying to kill you. They've been changed with two counts of attempted murder, uttering death threats, breaking and entering as well as theft of an automobile and destruction of property for setting fire to said auto as well as the bombing of the practice."

"Who..." Declan cleared his throat. "Who and how did you get them?"

It was Dorrie who replied. "We knew whoever it was had to be connected to law enforcement. It turns out that Jade Watson's godfather was a member of the tactical unit in the Vancouver Police Department. He was a sharpshooter."

"And the other man?"

"Jade's older brother. He's all of twenty-three and he was the one who found Jade after she'd overdosed. Unsurprisingly, he was the one who broke first and gave all the details. The godfather really had intended to kill you and Miss Baldwin," Greg said. "He didn't realize that the glass on your windows was angled, otherwise I suspect we wouldn't be having this conversation."

He suppressed a wave of nausea. To think that Chantale could have been killed because of him. "Have you told Chantale?"

Dorrie nodded. "We came from there since she was closer."

"Where is she now?"

"She's moved her things to Nick Clarke's house until her apartment is ready. The clean-up crew should be done in a couple of days and then the hardwood floors will be installed," Dorrie said. "Pretty soon it will be as good as new, if not better."

But would Chantale feel safe there?

"What happens to me?"

"You can stay here if you're still concerned about your safety or you can return to your home with the ankle monitor," Greg said. "We'll leave that choice up to you."

"Home," Declan said without hesitation. "I want to go home."

"Then go pack," Dorrie said, "and we'll take you home."

Chantale awoke to a thorough tongue bath of her face. "Ew, King, that's kind of gross."

The dog woofed and rooted even further against her.

"What time is it?"

"Almost six," Lacey answered, lazily leaning against the doorjamb, "you've been asleep for more than three hours."

Chantale struggled to get up. "I just thought I was going to lie down for a minute."

"You were tried," Lacey said, "and you've been very stressed. I just wanted to let you know that Nick's grilled wild Pacific salmon and I've made a spinach salad. We can save some for you-"

"I'm up," Chantale said. "I might even be capable of being coherent, given enough time."

Lacey grinned and whistled. King shot off the bed and trotted after his mistress, leaving Chantale alone for a moment. Lacey was right, she had been exhausted. Three days of doing nothing but worrying had a way of wearing down a person. News of the arrests had been the first good news she'd had in days. What had broken her heart was that Jade's younger brother had been brought into all this. Nick had assured her the young man had good legal representation and hopefully there would be a plea bargain. Twenty-three was old enough to know better, but too young not to be given consideration for having been influenced by an adult. As for the godfather, Chantale had little sympathy for him.

He might have killed Declan. He was law enforcement and should have understood the concept of innocent until proven guilty.

In the end, however, the two men were in custody and Chantale had her life back. In less than a week she would be back in her condo and it would be like this nightmare had never happened.

At least that was what she hoped.

Throwing on a sweater, she plodded down the hall to the kitchen. Lacey and Nick lived in a gorgeous two story wood cabin styled home which fit into the woods where it was located. Fully modern, it had everything Lacey needed to make her life as easy as possible.

The smell of fish was like a siren's song and she entered the kitchen just as Nick was serving the food.

"I should have helped," Chantale said.

"Oh, you get to cook tomorrow night," Lacey said with a straight face.

"You do know that I can't cook."

Nick grinned and each took their plate to the kitchen table. He had opened a bottle of wine and Chantale gratefully took a sip.

"We know you can't cook, Chantale," Nick said, "but we also heard you've had a few lessons recently and we're willing to be guinea pigs."

Chantale flashed to the culinary lessons in Declan's kitchen and before she could say anything, Lacey lay a hand on hers. "Sorry, we weren't thinking."

"No big deal," Chantale said, shrugging off the threatening emotions. "I can't change the past nor would I. I accept my actions."

Lacey squeezed her hand then gently pulled away. "Nick was saying Declan moved home this afternoon."

"That's good," Chantale said, turning to her co-worker. "I'm grateful you were able to keep him out of Ferndale."

Nick shrugged. "The key is going to be to keep him out of there. We're going to his place tomorrow morning to continue strategizing."

Chantale's brow furrowed. "You and Bennett?"

"No, we as in me and you."

She felt her stomach drop. "I'm not his legal counsel anymore, Nick. He fired me. Rather publicly, if you'll recall. I think it's safe to say I won't be welcomed there tomorrow."

"Too bad," Nick said, "because no one knows this case like you do. You may not be his formal counsel, but I still need you. He needs you, Chantale, and you know it."

"That's low, Nick."

Nick only shrugged and offered a boyish grin. "No one said I have to play fair. I'm a lawyer, Chantale, so you should know better."

Too true, she thought, because it was just like something she would do. They weren't intentionally devious, but they were advocates for their clients and would do anything to keep them out of prison. Especially the innocent ones. She needed, however, to think about something other than Declan, so she turned to Lacey. "Are you still visiting the hospital several times a week?"

A look passed between Lacey and Nick telling Chantale they knew what she was doing, then Lacey turned and offered her a smile. "King is a favourite at the Abbotsford Hospital. We always visited the pediatric area, but a few months ago we added oncology and palliative care. I know my mother was worried about me adding areas which could be so depressing, but they aren't like that. King brings such comfort to both the patients and their families." She shot a look at the dog who was lying patiently by the sliding glass door. "He's special."

Chantale furrowed her brow. "You're the special one, Lacey. It takes a lot of guts to do what you do. I'm not sure I would be able to do it."

"Oh you would, Chantale," Lacey said quickly. "You're good with people who are hurting. I saw you with Jamie and I saw you with Declan. You have a way of reaching people who need help even if they don't want it. You're stubborn..." Her voice drifted off as she realized what she had said.

"But in a good way," Nick said. "Tenacity is a necessary trait in our business."

Lacey smiled. "He has a better way of putting things than I do, so I hope you're not offended?"

Here, Chantale was able to smile. "You could never offend me, Lacey. I'm just grateful you've opened your home to me."

Nick grinned. "She has a habit of taking in wayward lawyers. You're welcome to stay as long as you need. I think King appreciates the company."

"Oh, crap."

Lacey and Nick both turned to her. "What is it," Lacey asked.

"I was supposed to go see my puppy," Chantale said. "I was supposed to go out the last two Sundays and with everything that's been going on, I completely forgot."

"So call Kennedy after dinner and see if we can go after work tomorrow," Nick said. "I would love to meet your new puppy."

"With the purple collar," Chantale said. "Yes, I'll call Kennedy. We don't have to go tomorrow, though Nick. Sunday will be fine."

"Chantale, tomorrow is Sunday."

Now she looked confused. "So why are we working tomorrow?"

"Because we have a motion to dismiss hearing on Tuesday and I want to be ready."

"How did you manage that?" She was intrigued and feeling a little put out that she'd been out of the loop, even if it had been necessary.

"Judge Patel granted a hearing based on the withdrawal of charges in the case of Nikita Ruiz."

Chantale considered. "Any chance you can get Remy to stay the other charges for now?"

"I haven't asked her, although I suspect I know what the answer will be."

"At least Declan didn't plead guilty," Chantale said. "Now they just have to find the guy who's been doing this."

Lacey rose from the table to collect the plates and Chantale was surprised to find she'd cleaned her plate. She tried to get up to help but Lacey just waved her off. "We're having chocolate ice cream for dessert," Lacey told her with a huge grin on her face.

"Sounds delicious," Chantale said, marvelling at Lacey. Sometimes the other woman could take great joy in life's simple pleasures and Chantale wanted to be more like that. She envied Lacey, she thought, for having the precious gift of loving everyone. The woman didn't have a mean or spiteful bone in her body. She had chosen to surround herself in love and was a very happy woman. Nick was a lucky man and she envied Lacey for that as well. Why couldn't she find a nice guy instead of brooding emotionally stunted men?

Maybe emotionally stunted was a little cruel, but still she'd had two relationships end in the past month and both times she had believed herself in love. Yes, she could now admit, she'd loved Declan. Or was it love, present tense? Because unlike Colton and Declan, she couldn't pretend to care and then turn on a dime to reject the person she'd been sleeping with.

She started when she found King's snout in her lap. Blinking away tears, she leaned down to press her face into the dog's fur. "You understand, don't you," she whispered. "It will stop hurting, right?"

King didn't respond, but then she hadn't expected him to.