Declan kept telling himself it didn't matter if Chantale had changed her mind. Just because she had been gone for more than four hours, didn't mean she had actually changed her mind. Except she seemed like a considerate woman. If she wasn't coming back, then surely she would call. But how long might it take to pack? Surely she wasn't bringing her whole wardrobe-

Then he saw the lights in the driveway.

Two, no, wait, three cars.

He made his way to the front door and opened it. He would have slammed it shut had it not been for the wan face of his lawyer. Every instinct had him wanting to reach out to her, but the three cops surrounding her precluded any such action. Out of frustration, he turned to Seth. "I thought you said they wouldn't be involved. I specifically remember telling you to keep them away from me and my property."

"Look, Byrne, none of us is happy about this, but something has happened and we need to talk to you about it." Seth's face was in a grim line. "If you force us to, we can have the conversation on your front porch. Better yet, Chantale and I will leave you with these two."

Declan had only to look at Seth to see the veracity of his statement. He held open the door and waited until one guest and three unwanted interlopers entered his sanctuary.

The three cops were heading into the living room, but Chantale bent over to try to take her boots off, then she staggered. Declan was there to steady her, but was nearly attacked for his trouble.

"Keep your hands off of her." It was a snarl from Colton and Declan damn nearly snarled back and would have, if not for the woman he was holding on to.

"She needs to go to the hospital," Seth spat out.

"She needs food," Dorrie said, turning to Declan. "Do you have something we can feed her?"

Feeling like he was late to this particular party, Declan indicated the kitchen. "I made a pot of chilli. I can get her a bowl right away." He started to guide Chantale to the kitchen when she batted his hands away.

"I need to take off my muddy boots."

Regret for his earlier rude behaviour came quick and sharp. "It's not a big deal, Chantale. I can clean up a bit of mud." What he didn't point out was that none of the police officers had offered to take off their shoes.

He must have said the right words because she allowed him to guide her to the kitchen. She sat heavily at the table and Declan went for the stove while Dorrie went for the fridge.

"Is it okay if I give her a glass of orange juice," Corporal Duhamel asked. Dorrie was her name, Declan remembered.

"Of course," Declan assured her. "Feel free to have one yourself, if that would make you happy."

"There's no reason to be snippy, Byrne," Seth said. "Chantale needs the sugar." He looked over at his sister-in-law. "She neglected to tell any of us that she's hypoglycaemic."

Concern lanced through him. "Does she need to go to a hospital?"

The two women answered 'no' and then two men answered 'yes'.

Not a whole lot of help, Declan thought. Blocking out everyone else, he looked directly at Chantale. She met his gaze, held it, and then gave a quick shake of her head. Good enough for him, he thought. He then went back to scooping out the chilli.

The bowl he put in front of Chantale was fragrant and hot, but she didn't look overly appreciative. In fact, she looked like she might throw up. Then Dorrie sat next to her, placed a hand on her shoulder and pressed the glass of orange juice in her hand.

Chantale grabbed it and drank greedily. When the glass was empty, she put it down on the table and then closed her eyes, completely unaware there were four pairs of concerned eyes on her.

Finally, Declan ventured to ask Dorrie, "what should I be looking out for? How do I know if she's not getting better?"

"I retrieved her testing kit from her apartment. If she's not feeling well, then get her to test her blood sugar level. She says this hasn't happened in a while and I'm inclined to believe her. Today was...a very stressful day."

Declan looked from Dorrie to Seth and finally his eyes settled on Colton. "What the hell happened? She was fine when she left here."

"Her place was broken into," Colton said. "It looks like they had several litres of pig's blood, maybe more. There wasn't anything in the apartment that wasn't damaged."

Colton might not have added he believed Declan to be responsible, but the sentiment hung heavy in the air. Of course Declan hadn't been the one to spill the blood, but the odds of someone attacking Chantale like this if she hadn't been working on his case were pretty slim to none.

He turned to Seth. "But you were with her, right? I mean she wasn't hurt."

Seth shook his head. "Whoever did the damage was long gone. I think her suspicion she was followed this morning was probably accurate because this guy obviously knew he had some time. Not that it would have taken much time," he added, "but he, or they, still acted without impunity. I've never seen anything so vicious or destructive and I've been doing this for a while."

Declan was heartened when Chantale took her first few bites of food. "I want to call the reporters and tell them I've fired her. I should have done it as soon as you left."

Chantale waved her spoon in the air. "Don't let this weakened state fool you, Declan, I'm not going to be bullied or threatened. I'm even more resolute than I was this afternoon."

And since she'd been immovable then, so he could only imagine how much her resolve had been notched up.

Then the doorbell rang.

"That will be my wife," Seth said. "She's brought some clothes for Chantale." With that, he left the room.

There wasn't anything in the apartment that wasn't damaged.

Declan felt a little queasy as he replayed Pritchard's words. All of that destruction and he was the cause. Still, he couldn't help but feel anything but pure animosity towards Chantale's ex-boyfriend. She was sure Colton wasn't responsible for this, but Declan still wondered.

Seth returned followed by a beautiful woman. Long blonde hair, tall and willowy in stature with the same eyes as Chantale. So this was the sister.

Dorrie vacated the seat next to Chantale and Jocelyne sat, placing a doctor's bag on the table.

"Jossie, I'm fine-"

"Taissez-vous donc."

Declan watched as the doctor pulled out a blood pressure cuff and a stethoscope. She then looked around the room. "Do you think you can give us some privacy?"

Jocelyne had the same Québécois accent as her sister, but hers seemed stronger. Maybe it was just because she was looking really annoyed. Seth, Declan noted, was the first to leave the room. Dorrie followed, but Declan and Colton looked at each other, both looking like they were going to speak.

Declan wanted to kick everyone out of his home and he could only imagine what the cop wanted to say to him. Finally, Declan decided to go first, more for Chantale's sake than any other reason.

His living room normally was quite spacious, but tonight it felt cramped.

Dorrie looked up to the three men who towered above her. "For the record, I want to point out that we're all on duty." The threat was implied, but not overt.

Message received, Declan thought, but he could see Seth and Colton weren't happy. If not for Dorrie, Declan didn't have to wonder if he wouldn't be in a pile of bloody pulp on the floor. So he was the first to speak. "I think we can agree we're all concerned about Chantale."

"That may be true, but some of us have a very different idea of what to do about the problem." Colton's words were almost conversational in tone.

Almost.

"Back off, Colton," Dorrie warned. "There is way too much testosterone in this room as it is. Byrne's right that we do have a common goal. The question is what are we going to do about it?"

"Really, Jossie, I'm fine."

Her sister just waved off the assertion and kept the stethoscope pressed to her pulse while checking her blood pressure.

"It's low, Chantale."

"Given the day I've had, I'm shocked it's not through the roof." She eyed the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, but her seat did not afford her a view of what was going on. She strained to hear something and was relieved there weren't any sounds of violence. "I should really be in there."

As if she hadn't heard, Jocelyne reached for a blood glucose meter. She pricked Chantale's finger and the blood oozed onto the strip. Within moments, the reading was visible.

"See? I said I was better."

For the first time, Jocelyne looked her in the eye. She feathered her fingers across Chantale's brow as she had countless times over the years. Not just the older chronologically, Jocelyne had always been the comforter, the nurturer. "You know how to manage this condition, Chantale and you told me that you have been."

"I have, Jossie, really I have. The day just slipped away from me and then the shock of what happened to my place, it all just sort of crashed down on me all at once." Please believe me, she thought. Please don't ask me too many questions because I might just shatter from the nerves.

Jocelyne looked like she was going to argue, then simply placed a comforting hand on Chantale's. "I've brought you as many clothes as I could spare, but you're going to have to roll up the cuffs and the sleeves." Jocelyne was the taller of the two sisters by a good four inches. "We need to plan a shopping trip. How about Wednesday, if you can wait that long? Seth and I both have the day off."

"Surely we don't need Seth."

Jocelyne laughed. "Oh, Chantale, you've got to be kidding. Seth doesn't plan to let you step off these grounds without an escort."

"Wait...what?" She tried to rise, but Jocelyne had a firm grip on her shoulder and Chantale's strength hadn't fully returned. "I have to go to work. I have errands and chores and..." She swallowed. Hard. "There's someone out there who wants to hurt me, Jossie. You shouldn't be near me. I'll make do with the clothes you've brought me or I'll buy some over the internet. I'm not willing to risk you and the baby over this."

Again, Jocelyne laughed. "That baby is about an inch long right now, so don't go worrying about your niece or nephew just yet. And, as you very well know, I'm a lot tougher than I look." Finally, she took a good look around the kitchen and the parts of the house she could see. "Seems like a nice enough place."

"For a prison, you mean."

"Yours or his?" Again, Jocelyne met her sister's gaze. "You have three very dedicated police officers in the other room strategizing on how to solve this problem. Everyone in the Detachment is going to want to see this resolved, Chantale. None of them wants you here a minute longer than you have to be."

"I notice you haven't tried to talk me out of staying here."

That lilting French accent laughed. "You're more stubborn than I am, chère soeur, and that's saying something. Even Seth knows when he's been bested. All I can say is I hope you're not making a huge mistake. There's nothing wrong with the loft at our place."

"I know, Jossie, but that was a very long week. You guys are newlyweds who deserved their privacy."

"Hardly newlyweds," Jocelyne scoffed, but she must have seen the truth of Chantale's words. "I hope, for your sake, that this gets resolved quickly."

"He's innocent, Jossie. I'm more sure of that than I've been of anything before."

Her sister looked deeply. Almost unbearably so. "Well, then you'll just have to convince everyone else, won't you? If anyone can, it's you. You saved me, you know."

It was a familiar refrain, but it still touched Chantale. For once, she had been the vanquisher of all things evil. Not the least had been her sister's ex-husband.

Still, this time, she felt a burning in her eyes. "I think I need to go to bed." Then she laughed. "I don't even know where bed is."

Jocelyne stood. "We'll get Declan to show us and then I'll help you."

"I think I can manage it on my own."

Again, Jocelyne feather her hand across Chantale's brow. "I know you can, but you'll let me? Just this once?"

When Jocelyne asked, in her special way, Chantale was powerless to argue.

So she didn't.

Declan was on his second mug of tea when Chantale made an appearance. The terry towel robe was belted haphazardly and he could see both all the cuffs had been rolled up. She was wearing socks and looked like she'd gone on a bender last night.

"Good morning."

She held up her hand. "Pas sans café."

Okay, so he would have to wait until she'd had her first cup of coffee. He went back to his book, but cast surreptitious glances over at his unexpected houseguest. She was leaning against the counter, eyes closed, hair a glorious riot of curls going in every direction. Even beneath the bulky clothes, Declan knew there was beauty. Jocelyne was subtle while Chantale was sultry. Under normal circumstances, Declan knew he would have preferred the other sister.

Now that he had seen Chantale in action, though, he was wondering if he'd been missing out by going for understated. Yesterday, while sparring with Seth, she'd been a tigress. Which was why he'd been so concerned at the one hundred and eight degree turn she'd taken by the time she'd come back with the cops. Only the presence and reassurances of her sister had enabled Declan to let go of the fear which had gripped him from the moment she'd swayed in his front hall.

Slowly, the smell of coffee fragranced the air. Born and bred in the English Isles, Declan had grown up on tea. Even after ten years in Canada, he hadn't developed a taste for coffee. Still, as he cast another sidelong glance at Chantale, he could see her taking in deep breaths, as if she could inhale the caffeine. The thought brought a smile to his lips. His initial plan had been to offer to make breakfast, but he was a patient man. Once she'd had her coffee, he would step forward.

As he read, he sensed Chantale pouring her second cup and he saw her in his peripheral vision as she made her way to the table.

By his estimation, she was more than halfway finished her cup before she spoke.

"I'm sorry I was rude. I just really love my coffee in the morning. Actually, I can't function without it."

"No need to apologize, I'm the same way with my tea." Actually, he wasn't. He was a runner who preferred getting up before dawn and going at least a couple of miles, but he hadn't been able to indulge in, oh, two months. If he'd known his last run was to be his last run, he would have enjoyed it more. As it was, it had been just a normal jog up and down his long street. Nothing particularly remarkable about it. It had been raining and a little cold, but that wasn't anything he wasn't accustomed to.

Now he could see the outdoors, but he couldn't indulge and he wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to hold on to his sanity. Still, it was better than jail.

Except for the fact a person or persons unknown were after him and Chantale was now in their path as well. Seth had been very explicit about what had been done to her condo, some of which they hadn't even told Chantale, given the shaken shape she'd been in. There had been graffiti on the walls with vile words and taunts. Even now, in the light of day, they made Declan's blood run cold.

In the telling, however, an argument had begun over how much to tell Chantale and who should do it. Four headstrong people with four divergent ideas. Well, by default, Declan had won the argument. He would tell Chantale the truth at some point today. As he had pointed out, the insurance company was going to have to come in and see the place. Wouldn't it be better he tell her the truth rather than her hearing it from an adjustor? Even Colton, ever the pitbull protector of Chantale, had been forced to see the logic.

For a man who had done the dumping, Colton had been surprisingly protective of his ex. Seth had been middle of the road while Dorrie had been willing to give Chantale the benefit of the doubt. Declan felt like he'd been all over the map, protective at one turn, willing to let things go at the next.

His one - and only - plea had been they find the real rapist. Only if they arrested the right man would Chantale, and the rest of the women, be safe.

Colton had jeered about hearing the same old tune, but Dorrie had looked less certain than she had in the interrogation room. Seth's expression had been carefully neutral. At least he gave the appearance of keeping an open mind, even if it wasn't true in fact.

"I was thinking about making omelettes for breakfast."

Chantale offered him a slow smile. "You cook?"

"Quite well," he said, slightly offended.

She only waved him off. "I only ask because I have no culinary skills whatsoever. There's a reason why my condo is two blocks from the main strip and why every fast food joint in town knows me by name."

"What does your sister say about that?"

Chantale laughed. "Until Jossie met Seth, she didn't know how to cook either. We grew up in, shall we say, privileged circumstances. If pressed, I could probably boil an egg and might be able to cook macaroni if it came with explicit instructions." Her eyes danced. "Who taught you to cook?"

"My mother," Declan said. "She was a homemaker who believed in equality between the sexes. No son of hers was going to shirk responsibility in the domestic realm."

"That's nice," Chantale said softly. "My mother didn't care about my upbringing."

"What does that mean?"

Her look was almost wistful. "That I wish I'd had your mother. Mine was, to put it nicely, distant. She had social obligations which took up most of her time. Jossie and I were raised by a series of nannies until we were old enough to go to school. There, Jossie shone and I...was a disappointment."

Declan's laughter was sharp. "You're a lawyer, Chantale. That should hardly be seen as second-rate."

A look passed across her face. Guilt? Discomfort? Unhappiness? She took a breath. "I should probably tell you I only got into Law School because my father made a strategically-timed endowment. Then it took me two times to pass the bar."

"Are you trying to dissuade me from using your services?"

She shook her head. "I'm a good lawyer, I just come up short in the academic realm. I have a hard time studying for exams and then get really flustered when I have to write them. Term papers were always much easier because I could take my time."

"So I'll stick with you, but against my better judgement." He hesitated. "Chantale, we need to talk about what happened yesterday."

She met his eyes and he saw a haunted woman. So she had remembered most of it, he thought. He'd wondered, with her medical condition, if there had been any impairment.

Rising, she gave him a small smile. "Do you think we can eat first?"

So he would leave it, for now, but this was a conversation they were going to have before the morning was over. Mainly because there was to be another conference with all parties again today. He had yet to tell her that as well. He stood and headed to the fridge. "Might as well teach you how to make an omelette."

She looked dubious, but allowed herself to be guided and the result wasn't bad.

Once she had pushed away her plate, Declan took a sip of tea. "Chantale, Seth told me about your condo, about the damage."

Her brow furrowed. "He told me as well."

"Not all of it."

Her brow furrowed even further, if that was possible.

"There was a note and there was writing on the wall."

Now her brow raised. "My brother-in-law neglected to tell me that. I'll have to have a little chat with him."

"Don't blame Seth," Declan said sharply. "You were in bad shape yesterday." She looked like she was about to argue when he held up his hand and she desisted. "The words that were used - they were the most derogatory that can be used against a woman."

"And your point?"

"Only that this person or persons see your gender as being an issue. They probably see you as weaker and more vulnerable. They might even see you as a way to get to me."

Her chin tilted up. "They're not going to get to me."

He allowed himself a moment of admiration for her defiance. Then he reminded himself she was not going to like the next part. "You're going to be escorted any time you leave here, Chantale."

She was bristling, he could see, but there was also a shadow in those deep blue eyes. She might put up a good front, but she was scared, and that, oddly, reassured him.

"I know the police are busy and you know the police are busy, so I think you're going to have to curtail your engagements for now. Until they catch the guy, of course."

"Of course," she repeated listlessly. "This sucks."

He was surprised at her choice of words, but not the emotion behind the sentiment. It did suck. "We'll get you set up as best as we can here and we'll order anything you might need."

"I need to talk to my associate. Would you mind if he came over here?"

"Not a problem. Feel free to have over whomever you need to see."

Chantale rose, pushing her hair from her face. "I need to have a shower before I'll feel truly human. Again, I thank you for your hospitality. You've got a nice place here."

With that, she was gone.

He wondered how long she would be grateful for the accommodations.

As predicted, Chantale felt more human after the shower. Ruthlessly, she'd pulled her hair into a practical ponytail and selected a pair of jeans and sweater. And, as predicted, she'd been forced to roll up the pant legs, but it was a small price to pay. The alternative of living in a bathrobe didn't appeal.

She'd put a call through to Nick Clarke, asking him to run by the office to pick up her laptop and all her papers, including the Byrne file. She'd been cagey about the reasons, but she knew that wouldn't hold. Nick had an innate curiosity and was bound to ask questions once he identified the address where he was bringing her things. Again, she was grateful her plan had been to return to the office to do the work instead of bringing it home as she so often did.

Coming out of her room, she nearly walked into Declan, who was coming from his room. He was clean-shaven and looked a lot less dangerous than he had just an hour ago. Still, the scruffy look held some appeal to her. Then she reminded herself she was finished with brooding boys. Declan would be annoyed, but he had more in common with Colton than he would ever admit.

"Nick Clarke is going to be here in about an hour. If it's okay with you, I figured we might as well set up in the dining room."

Declan shrugged, avoiding any physical contact. "I don't use the room anyway. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Chantale considered. "I don't suppose you have any bulletin boards?"

"No, but there's a wall you can use."

"Oh, that's nice of you to offer, but I can't be sticking pins into your wall."

"Well, I was planning to repaint the room anyway. Not a big deal if I have to do a quick patch job first."

Chantale wanted to call him out on the lie, but held her tongue. There were going to be lots of time when they were going to butt heads before this was over and she would have to pick her battles carefully. This one wasn't worth the effort.

"Well, I appreciate that. You'll have to show me the paint swatches." Then she walked away.

She heard Declan's chuckle, but chose to ignore it.

An hour later, Nick arrived with his wife Lacey.

"I hope it's okay that she came with me," Nick said. "She was worried when I told her about what happened."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Chantale said. "Declan said I could have over anyone I wanted."

At her casual mention of her client's name, Nick's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything. He and Lacey stepped into the house and Chantale directed them over to the dining room.

"There are another couple of boxes," Nick said.

"I'll help," Chantale offered.

"No, I will."

At the sound of Declan's voice, all three of them turned. Chantale was the first to speak. "Declan Byrne, this is my colleague Nick Clarke and his wife Lacey. They've just brought over my things from the office."

She watched as each man took the measure of the other.

Declan inclined his head at Nick. "You would be the lawyer who helped Jamie Cole."

Nick nodded. "I am."

Stepping forward, he offered his hand. "I appreciate what you did for Jamie. He's a good man."

"He's the best," Lacey said. Then she placed a hand on her husband's arm. "Or maybe I should say second best."

Chantale didn't miss the high colour in Nick's cheeks. Still, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to his wife's temple. She heard him whisper a quick word of thanks. That they could be so intimate in front of others bespoke their comfort and love with each other. For a moment, Chantale felt wistful. She cast a quick glance over at Declan and he seemed, momentarily at least, a little touched himself.

It was Nick who broke away. "I'll accept your offer of help."

The two men left and Chantale found herself pulled into a tight embrace. She had known that Lacey could be demonstrative, so she wasn't completely taken unawares. For a moment, she let herself absorb the proffered comfort. When she pulled back, Lacey's eyes were damp. "When Nick told me what happened, I knew I had to come and see you. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," Lacey said, able to put some weight behind the statement. "I just apologize for interrupting your Sunday."

Lacey grinned. "One can only laze about in bed for so long."

Her grin, Chantale noticed, was just a bit lascivious even as her cheeks took on bright spots of colour. She felt a stab of jealousy for what Lacey and Nick had. Not that she was looking, but why couldn't she find a man like Nick Clarke?

Not trusting herself to speak, she just nodded. Then she heard the front door opening and before she knew it, King bounded into the room. The black Labrador retriever came right up to her and sat, waiting for attention. Chantale had met King, of course, as Lacey never went anywhere without her working dog. King's job was to make sure Lacey was okay and to retrieve things should his mistress need them.

Although it had been more than five years since the beating which had almost taken Lacey's life, there were still some lingering effects including brain damage. Lacey compensated so well that a casual observer wouldn't know, but Nick had made Chantale aware because of Lacey's occasional presence in the office. Sometimes Lacey had difficulties expressing herself clearly and she had a limp, but otherwise, she functioned quite well.

Chantale dropped to her haunches and threw her arms around the dog. "It's nice to see you, buddy. It's been a while."

In response, she received a lick on her cheek. She took one long moment to absorb King's unconditional love and then she stood, keeping her hand on King's head. She met Declan's eyes and mouthed the words 'thank you' to which he simply nodded. She also made a note to do some cleaning as she was sure there would be dog hair by the end of this visit. Poor Declan, she thought, with his aversion to dirt, mud, and uninvited guests. Still, somehow with King by her side, she felt calmer. She knew Lacey used her dog as a comfort dog and that King was well-loved at the local hospital.

Speaking of Himself, he entered carrying the box which held the evidence Chantale hoped would prove his innocence. Behind him was Nick carrying a box full of her other case files. Cases she would either have to pass over to another lawyer or make contingencies for. Just how long was her life going to be in flux?

The men put the boxes on the table and Declan turned to Lacey. "I understand I'm able to walk around my property which is actually quite large. Perhaps you and King would do the honour of keeping me company?"

The look on Lacey's face was priceless, Chantale thought, as she could see the other woman being charmed by the Irishman.

"King and I would love a walk," Lacey said. "That will give Chantale and Nick a chance to work."

"That was the plan," Declan assured her, as he held out his arm. After a moment's hesitation, Lacey tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and they left the room.

Chantale turned to Nick, worried about his reaction, but he was merely grinning. "I think she's smitten."

"You're not worried?"

"Considering what we were doing a couple of hours ago? Not a chance."

"Too much information, Nick," Chantale said, but she was pleased Nick wasn't the jealous type. He had nothing to worry about because Chantale knew, without a doubt, that Declan would never approach a married woman in any way other than a platonic one.

She opened the box with all her other cases and sat with her notepad when Nick pulled out the first file.

"Mortimer."

"The wrongful dismissal suit. We're on the verge of a negotiated settlement. I should be able to do it over the phone and you can handle the signing of the agreement."

"Fair enough." He pulled out the next file. "Grossman."

"He's guilty of assaulting his girlfriend, but I'm trying to get probation and anger management."

Nick snickered.

"I said I was trying, but Remy Stevens is handling the case and she's going to insist on jail time. The thing is, he came home and found her in bed with another man. He has no criminal history and I believe him when he says it won't happen again. It helps that the girlfriend is now an ex and is unwilling to testify against him."

"I'll talk to Remy." He pulled out the next file. "Reyat."

"We're fortunate it's such a beautiful day," Declan remarked.

Lacey was grinning. "Yeah, I thought so. I'm sorry I came without asking if it was okay, but I'm feeling much better now that I've seen Chantale."

"You're close to her?"

Lacey appeared to consider that. "She works with my husband in the law firm and we've had her over a few times to our house. Close? Chantale's a private person, so I would say it's relative. I would count her amongst my friends, if that's what you mean." She gave him a grin which could only be described as impish. "Plus, she's partial to King which is always a bonus. I'm lucky everyone in the office loves dogs - or at least pretends they do."

"I have the distinct impression King is an easy dog to love." He was surprised to see he meant the sentiment sincerely. Then the dog in question took off full-speed.

"Squirrel," Lacey explained. "He flunked out of the school for working dogs because he loves squirrels. It's like a fetish or something."

Declan let out a chuckle. "And yet he's a working dog for you."

Lacey nodded. "My needs were more flexible, so it was a perfect fit. He's good at reading my moods and pointing me in the right direction, metaphorically, if I get lost."

"Sounds like a good companion."

"He is," Lacey confirmed. "I'm a lucky woman."

"Yes, Nick seems like a good guy." Declan considered, then ventured forward. "You know Jamie Cole?"

Lacey nodded.

"I was wondering...have you spoken to him lately? Do you know if things have been...resolved?"

She seemed to understand what he was asking. "It wasn't easy for him to go home, you know? Aline had been raising their son Elijah for more than four years on her own and now she's found herself with a husband she had never planned on seeing again. He was ready to accept there was no space in her life for him, but Chantale pushed hard for him. She convinced him to fight to get his family back."

"Chantale is good at pushing," Declan agreed. "So everything is resolved?"

Lacey nodded. "We had them over for dinner on last Friday night. You should see Elijah. He's a very serious four year old except when he's around King. I know Jamie and Aline are planning to get a dog and hope when he starts school next September and around other children he'll play more. Aline tried, you know, but as a young single parent with a husband in jail, she had a lot on her plate. I feel guilty about what happened, but I've also accepted I can't change the past. As soon as I remembered what had happened, I convinced Nick that we had to get Jamie out of jail."

So this was the woman. The woman who had been beaten and left for dead. The woman who Jamie held himself responsible for. The woman who had secured Jamie's release from both the physical jail he'd been living in as well as the mental hell he'd been living in. She had Declan's respect.

At that moment, King came back, his tongue hanging out but a disappointed look in his eyes. Lacey laughed. "The squirrels here are the same as the ones back home, my friend. You're never going to catch one."

"Would he even know what to do with one if he did?"

Lacey considered the question. "I think he would try to play with them. Or at least I hope he would. I would hate to think my dog's a secret carnivore."

King woofed.

Declan wasn't sure whether the dog was agreeing with the assertion he was carnivore or promising he wasn't one. Regardless, Declan was intrigued. He'd never had a dog growing up, although several of his mates had. Intellectually, he understood the man/canine connection had existed for millennia, but it was still a bit beyond him.

"Do you think we can head back?"

They had circled the manicured lawn four times and the fresh air had done him good. Then Declan turned to see that his companion's face was drawn with lines of pain. "Of course we can," he said, not wanting to point out how pale she was. Instead, he offered his arm. "Do you mind if I lean on you?"

Lacey's laugh warmed him. "You're in no need of my assistance, but I'll pretend that you do. I just walked a little too far. I know better, but sometimes I'm okay. I guess I was just hoping today would be one of those days." She took his arm. "You're a good man, Declan."

He was startled. "Not everyone thinks so."

She waved off his assertion. "Chantale believes you're innocent and I'm inclined to believe her."

"That's quite a risk."

Now Lacey stopped. "There's no deception in you. Oh sure, you're dark and mysterious, but that's just for show."

Dark and mysterious? He hadn't heard that one before. Was that how people saw him?

Lacey recommenced their walk. "And I know it sounds crazy, but King is a really good judge of character. A couple of times, when I've visited Nick and Chantale at the office, he's gotten very upset. Invariably, those clients have been found guilty."

Now, Declan laughed. "Maybe they should install King as the jury."

"Maybe they should," Lacey said a little diffidently.

"I'm not making fun of you, Mrs. Clarke, I would never do that."

She looked up at him, trying to discern his words. He held himself still under her scrutiny.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I get a little testy when it comes to...my disability. I thought you were mocking King and making fun of my belief in him. I can see you didn't mean it that way, so I'll apologize for my thin skin." Then she offered him a smile. "It's Lacey, by the way. As much as I enjoy my married name, I think we're friends now and friends are on a first name basis."

Friends? He hadn't seen that coming, but suddenly it felt right. He needed all the friends he could get.

"So that's everything." Chantale eyed the box of work Nick was taking with him. She'd relinquished almost every file in her inventory and that bothered her. A lot. The plan was for her to spend most of Monday contacting her clients and letting them know Nick was going to be taking over their cases. She'd also popped off a quick text to the firm's paralegal, Ewan, warning him his workload was about to increase. Ewan had a sharp legal mind and Chantale wondered why the young man hadn't gone to Law School.

Probably money. Law School was damn expensive. Her tuition and expenses had, of course, been paid for by her father. She loved the law. Once she had made that discovery, the rest had fallen into place.

She heard the front door open and King preceded both Lacey and Declan, coming over to place his chin on Chantale's lap. His brown eyes were bright and, if possible, he smelled like the outdoors. Chantale bent at the waist and buried her face in the dog's fur.

Lacey let out a little sigh. "I think I just might have to leave King here."

Chantale pulled back to meet King's eyes. "So what do you think? Do you want to stay?"

He eyed her warily and then gently extricated himself and went over the stand by his mistress' side, who had sat at one of the dining room chairs. All four of the adults laughed and King looked a little affronted.

Nick was the first to lose the grin on his face. "There is one other thing, Chantale and I don't want you to get upset."

That didn't sound promising, but she gave a nod as her promise.

"Someone tried to break into the building last night."

"Damn."

Surprisingly, the expletive came from Declan, not Chantale. Chantale was too stunned to speak.

"What happened?" Again, it was Declan who spoke.

"Sometime after midnight the security company received a signal. They sent a car out to investigate and found someone had tried to break-in. Whoever it was hadn't managed to jimmy the locks but they did throw a brick at the front window. The glass cracked but didn't break. Then the whole place was doused in some red stuff."

"Pig's blood," Chantale said quietly. Grateful she was sitting, she still felt nauseous. "How did you find out?"

"The security company called me as I was listed as the emergency contact. By the time they got there, the damage had been done and the vandal had fled."

"This is all my fault," Chantale said. "It would never have happened if not for me. I should resign from the firm."

Nick shook his head. "Never going to happen. Bennett and I agree this is one of those things meant to intimidate, but only makes us more resolute. The security company has posted a guard and I'm meeting with a glass company this afternoon as well as someone from the lock company. We're going to add a second deadbolt and we'll upgrade to bullet proof glass."

There was a sharp little intake of breath from Lacey, but no one else spoke.

Finally, Nick continued. "We've also asked the security company to do checks up here several times a day so anyone who might be watching will know you're under guard."

Chantale closed her eyes. "And how can we afford this?"

Even though she couldn't see, Nick waved off her concerns. "Standard business expenses. Bennett's arranged everything and, trust me, he's mad as hell. The police came, of course. They've made a report, of which they're promising me a copy. The insurance adjustor will also be out this afternoon."

"Probably after he looks over my apartment," Chantale said quietly. She opened her eyes, finding Nick and Lacey giving her questioning glances. "Apparently this guy gets around."

With some reluctance, she went on to describe the break-in at her apartment, the phone calls to both herself and Declan as well as the death threats. By the time she was finished, Lacey was pale and Nick was furious. Chantale wasn't sure which reaction distressed her more.

She was searching for a lighter topic when the doorbell rang.

"That will be the police," Declan said.

Chantale furrowed her brow, trying to remember if he'd told her the cops were coming back. Possibly. Probably. It was just she was finding things getting increasingly stressful. She wasn't worried for herself, but she worried for those around her. Declan most especially.

Fortunately Declan's dining room table sat eight because there was Seth, Jocelyne, Colton, Dorrie, Lacey, Nick, Declan, and herself. She had tried to hint maybe Lacey and Jocelyne weren't really needed, but the women had both defiantly said they were staying.

So a conference began.

Jocelyne took notes as they created a calendar of the times Chantale had to leave and who would escort her. She was more than a little distressed that on two occasions the only person available to accompany her was Colton. Actually, no one looked happy at the prospect, but they were firm court dates she had to attend. To try to bring another lawyer in at this late hour would just create chaos.

"I'll go shopping with Seth on Wednesday because I'll need clothes to wear to court, but, Jossie, you're not coming."

Her sister looked more than a bit annoyed and Chantale wasn't sure whether it was because she had used the much-hated nickname or if it was because Jocelyne didn't want to be summarily told what to do.

"It just adds another target," Chantale pointed out. "In fact, until this is resolved, I don't think we should see each other." She then pointed to Nick and Lacey. "The same goes for you guys. I don't want them to know who is important to me."

"It's probably a little late for that," Jocelyne pointed out dryly. "I know I'm only speaking for myself, but I want to stand up and fight. I'm not going to be cowed."

Seth reached out to take his wife's hand. "Chantale is making a very valid point. We need to give them less targets, not more." He turned to Declan. "Is there anyone in your life who we should be protecting?"

Declan's face shuttered. "There's no one."

Chantale wondered at the statement, but believed him. She had a passing thought about how lonely he must be, but then she remembered he was surrounded by people every day. To have no one special, though... Then Colton caught her eye and she saw he looked displeased. Was he worried something might develop between herself and Declan? She could reassure him on that count, at least.

Jocelyne looked over the paper. "I'm going to set up an email group with extra encryption so we can keep in touch."

"Declan needs a cellphone," Chantale said. "A disposable cellphone so he can disconnect his home phone line."

"I'll take care of it," Dorrie offered. "I want to get you one as well. One that you keep with you at all times, but can't be traced back to you. I think you should turn off your regular cellphone until this is resolved."

Chantale's cellphone was an extension of her and she couldn't imagine life without it. Just one more thing being taken away from her, but she knew better than to complain. "No problem. I'll turn it off as soon as we're done here."

"Do it now."

Of course she went stiff at Colton's tone, but she wasn't going to make a scene. "Okay, I'll go turn it off. I'll be right back." She rose and, she noted, Declan did as well. She gave him an odd look, but he only inclined his head. She went to the spare room where she had tucked away her purse and pulled out her BlackBerry. With a pang of regret, she powered it down. No one had left her a threatening message on this number, but she was sure it was only a matter of time. Her world was closing in on her and she was already starting to feel claustrophobic.

She turned when she heard a noise. Jocelyne came into the room and indicated that Chantale sit on the bed. Chantale did so and watched as her sister rifled through her purse. Jocelyne pulled out the blood glucose meter and Chantale gave a pleading look, all the while knowing that her plea was going to be falling on deaf ears. Rather than fighting, she held out her hand.

Jocelyne repeated the procedure she had the night before and seemed satisfied with the results. "I've brought several candy bars and some protein bars. Just to be on the safe side, I want you to test each night and each morning. Also, don't even think about skipping meals. I'll tell Declan to watch over you if you don't do this."

"I think you're being overprotective."

"And I can see how much strain you're under."

Both women eyed each other warily, neither wanting to give an inch.

At length, it was Chantale who spoke. "I'm sorry I worried you yesterday."

"When Seth called and said you'd had an episode I panicked. Then he told me you'd been broken into. Chantale, is he really worth it?"

"Yes." The word came without thought or reflection. Declan was absolutely worth it.

Jocelyne seemed to accept that and took Chantale's hand. "Okay, you'll do the testing for now. A couple of days of normal results and I'll back off."

Since she could agree to that, Chantale squeezed her sister's hand. "I'm sorry, Jossie."

"Stop calling me that." Jocelyne looked pained. "I should have made up something really annoying to call you so I can embarrass you as well."

"It's all meant in love," Chantale offered up, but her eyes were alight in laughter. "Okay, we had better get back."

When they returned to the dining room, however, all was not well. Everyone except Lacey was on their feet and there seemed to be two camps. Declan and Nick were on one side while Seth and Colton were on the other. Dorrie seemed to be somewhere in the middle.

"What is going on," Chantale demanded. No one except Lacey paid her any mind, and she only shrugged.

"I want you to take back what you said." Declan's voice was low and menacing.

"And I want Chantale out of his house and off of your case." Colton's voice held equal animus.

"Colton, take back whatever you said," Chantale said, knowing most likely he'd been out of line.

"Stay out of this, Chantale. It doesn't involve you," Declan said.

Lacey raised her hand with some reluctance. "Actually, since Colton's remark was about Chantale, I think that she is involved."

No one looked pleased at that particular comment.

Chantale rounded on Colton. "You're here as a courtesy because you said you would be professional about this. I expected better of you, but maybe I shouldn't have."

Her words had the effect of momentarily disconcerting him, but then the steely resolve returned. "I am a professional. What I am not is a criminal. I don't consort with criminals. I don't sleep across the hall with rapists."

"I think it's time for you to leave, Colton," Chantale said. "In fact, I think it's time everyone leave."

Lacey was the only one who moved, rising from her chair and using a hand signal to bring King to heel.

Now it was Jocelyne who stepped forward, turning to Colton. "I know how righteous you can be. It's both your best quality and your worst. Accept that Chantale is a grown woman who is capable of making her own decisions. You impugning her will only alienate her. And me," she added quietly. "You may be my husband's best friend, but she's my sister. Don't force us to choose sides because it will only end badly for everyone." She reached out for Seth and he pulled her close, offering unspoken support.

A very long moment passed before Colton relented. "I'll leave, but this isn't over." He stalked out.

"Since he's my ride, I'll be leaving as well," Dorrie said.

Nick and Lacey also reached for each other. "We'll be going as well." With a quick wave, they were off, King close at their heels.

Jocelyne stepped away from Seth and towards Chantale, but was stopped when her sister held up her hand. "Not now, Jocelyne, please not now."

The use of her full name had Jocelyne coming up short. "All right," she said quietly. "But I want you to call me. Tonight, tomorrow, I don't care, but I want you to call."

"She will," Declan assured her. "Dorrie said she'd bring by the phones in the morning. As soon as they're set up, we'll call and give you the numbers."

Seemingly mollified, Jocelyne allowed herself to be led by Seth out of the room and out of the house.

Silence descended, oppressive and all-encompassing.

At length, Declan spoke. "I apologize for that, Chantale. What he said-"

She held up a hand to cut him off mid-sentence. "It doesn't matter what he said. His animosity towards me is mystifying and, at once, breath-stealing."

Declan let out a breath. "I'm not sure who he dislikes more - you or me."

She wasn't sure either. The anger she had seen in Colton's eyes had chilled her to the marrow of her bones. Suddenly, she was exhausted. "I'm going to lie down."

"You need to eat first," Declan said.

"I'll eat on of the chocolate bars Jocelyne brought."

"I hardly think-"

But she was already walking away.

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