"Oh, God," Virginia whispered from the backseat of Walt's car when they turned the corner, bringing the mob of reporters mulling around her front lawn into view. "Janine . . . Janine is at my neighbor's house."

Cap reached over the front seat and patted her knee. "It's okay. I'll get Janine." The strain she felt must have been obvious, prompting him to add, "This is all going to blow over. Stories like this get old quick with these guys." He turned to Walt. "Let me out here."

Walt pulled to the curb and the captain hopped out, making it to her neighbor's front door before the reporters had a chance to react. They watched as he disappeared into the house.

Then all heads turned to the car he had exited.

Walt eased his way into the driveway, restricted by the bodies that were slow to separate and provide access. Any leeway they provided was swallowed up when the car came to a stop. When she opened her door, the flashes and questions started immediately.

"How long did you and Mr. Spinelli have a relationship?"

"What caused the breakup?"

"Any secrets passed to each other between the sheets?"

"Will you lose your badge over this?"

"Is the whole department in bed with the Chilvatis?"

Virginia winced with that one. It was one thing to have her reputation ruined, totally another to have doubts cast on the police force as a whole.

Without a word, the two of them wedged their way through the crowd and made it to her front door. Once inside, Virginia leaned back against it with a groan and looked at Walt, realizing he hadn't said a word since her questioning in court.

They had been on a few dates in the last month, not as many as he would have liked but she had been busy with the gym—at least that's what she had told him. Coward, she thought to herself. She should have been honest from the beginning. Although a romantic relationship was not in the cards for them, she did not want to lose his friendship, and being friends meant being honest.

"Thanks, Walt," she said, hoping he'd look at her.

"No problem," he muttered.

"You okay?"

Finally, he met her gaze. "You could have told me, spared me the shock of having to hear it in court today, saved me the embarrassment."

"You're embarrassed? Think about how I feel." She laughed, trying to lighten his mood.

"I'll make some tea," he said, walking away from her.

"Wait."

He stopped, but refused to turn around. His shoulders lifted and fell with a deep inhale.

She circled in front of him and touched his arm. "I know you're angry—" She shook her head at the poor choice of words. "Hurt . . . but I never lied to you. I was just so used to keeping it a secret that I thought it best to keep it that way. To help me forget."

"The problem is you're not able to forget, are you?" he asked, his eyes heavy with accusation.

Could she? Would she? She had no idea how to answer that, yet the silence spoke for itself.

"I'll take that as a yes."

She sighed. "I'm not perfect, Walt."

With his frown, she pushed on, "I get this feeling you put me high up on some pedestal, with such unrealistic expectations that it's impossible not to fall."

He muttered something under his breath and sidestepped her, continuing on his path to the kitchen.

Virginia closed her eyes, feeling like her world was spinning out of control.

With perfect timing Cap came through the door, releasing his hold on Janine's hand as she ran to hug her mother. Virginia knelt down and inhaled her scent, feeling grounded as she held tight to her daughter.

"Are you okay, Mommy?"

"I'm fine, sweetie," she whispered.

Janine leaned back, her young face puckered in confusion. "Why do all those people keep asking about Mark?"

Virginia ran a hand along the top of her daughter's hair, smoothing down its curl. "You know that Mark is somewhat famous?"

Her head bobbed.

"Well, they found out we were friends and they are very nosy." She tried to put it in a child's perspective. "You don't need to listen to them. They can be mean sometimes, you know, like that mean kid at school? Just ignore them and keep walking."

"You mean boyfriend and girlfriend." Janine smiled, fixated on that one point.

"Yes, boyfriend and girlfriend." She gave in to her daughter. It was impossible not to.

"Are they asking him questions too?"

Virginia stood to peek out the window at the reporters congregated in front of her house. "I'm sure they are," she muttered. The sensation of being followed had stuck with her over the last month, but any imagined second set of footprints had now been trampled by a herd of in-your-face gossipmongers.

Two police cruisers pulled up and began ordering the reporters to remove their vehicles from the street. Yet she knew they would find a way to come back.

Her co-workers couldn't babysit her all night.

)l(

Paul came home from work early after having caught wind of the news coverage already spilling out over the radio. Trucks on the street were being cleared away by police, but they allowed his car into the driveway once they recognized him.

He ignored the questions being yelled as he crossed the front lawn and stepped into the house. "What the—"

Janine came running up to him at the door.

"—fudge is going on?" He ruffled his niece's hair.

In the living room, Virginia turned to the sound of his voice and shrugged. "No more skulking in shadows," she said.

His words, spoken in anger, months ago.

He crossed the room and hugged her hard. "You okay?"

A muffled "yes" was breathed into his shoulder.

He leaned back to judge for himself. The day had taken its toll on her. She was fighting to hold it together for the sake of everyone else there, but he knew better. "Pizza?" It had always been a favorite comfort food for the two of them from as far back as he could remember.

She smiled a little and nodded. "With—"

"Anchovies, I know, I know." He pulled her in for another hug. "I'll let you get your way . . . this time." Paul's gaze shifted to the two men standing behind her. They didn't have to speak to communicate what was obvious: It was going to be a circus at the courthouse in the morning. If someone wanted to make an attempt on her life, that would be the perfect place to do it.

Paul ordered the pizza and watched the perplexed delivery boy pull up and answer questions from the few reporters that had managed to avoid the mass departure. Janine was allowed the special treat of eating in her bedroom while the four of them gathered at the dining room table to work out the details for the next morning. There would be more reporters at the courthouse. A lot more. And having had time to dig up any dirt they could find, they would be armed with more personal questions.

"I'd like to make a statement," Virginia announced out of the blue.

There was only silence as Paul tried to think of how to take the bite out of his first thought: No fucking way. Likely, Walt and Captain Beal were doing the same.

Her eyes flicked between the three of them. "I want to use this in a positive way, redirect the focus from us and on to the case and the issues involved."

"They'll eat you alive," Paul said, shaking his head. "They're only interested in dirt. They have no concern over community or police issues."

"I have to agree with Paul," the captain said. "It could get ugly. Are you ready for that?"

She wasn't swayed, her jaw set like stone. "If the questions are too much to handle, we'll cut them off."

Paul glanced at the captain. How were they going to keep her safe?

"I'll set something up," Captain Beal said, rising from his chair. "Come on, Walt, we'd better go. Get some rest, Virginia. You're going to need it."

Paul got up to walk them out. At the door, Captain Beal leaned in, talking low. "We'll double up on security."

"I'm going to call Dominique too," Paul said.

"Good idea." The captain nodded at the small group of reporters still lingering out front. "Let me know if the situation out here gets any worse."

With that, they were gone, the door closing behind them. Paul reached over and locked it.

)l(

Virginia sat alone in the kitchen after getting Janine to bed. Paul had gone to his room to catch up on some cases he was working on. A pad of paper lay on the table in front of her as she worked on organizing what she was going to say the next morning. So far, it was blank. "You and your great ideas," she muttered.

The house was quiet. So quiet, she jumped when her cell phone vibrated on the table next to her. She glanced over at the thing, and her heart ended up in her throat. MARK SPINELLI was displayed on the screen. Stunned, she picked up the phone and checked each letter in case her mind was playing tricks on her—and had to remind herself to breathe.

She cleared her throat. "Hello?"

"Ginny . . ." The deep voice was achingly familiar and dangerously seductive. She closed her eyes as she savored the sound.

"Yes?"

"How are you?"

"I'm managing."

"That was not my doing today. I wanted you to know that. Gus fed Anderson that information. He won't use it again."

"I could tell by the look on your face that you were just as shocked as I was. I'm surprised Anderson wasn't carried away on a stretcher."

"The day isn't over yet," he grumbled.

She couldn't help but giggle, even with the stress surrounding them. Sensing his smile, she pictured him that way: happy, carefree, blue eyes dancing with delight. But that only brought the sadness rushing back in, crushing any joviality. Biting her lip, she waited for him to continue.

"Gus was guessing. He's up to something, some kind of sick revenge. I'm not quite sure yet what his motive is, but I'm going to find out."

"Don't worry about it." She drew on the captain's words of wisdom, hoping he was right. "It's old news anyway. The press will tire of it soon."

A silence stretched longer than what a comfortable conversation would allow, and she took a quick look at the screen, worried that the call had been dropped.

His voice returned, erasing all cause for concern. "Do you and Janine want to come over here? The reporters can't get close to the house."

She inhaled sharply while her gut gave its immediate response: Go! Shutting her eyes, Virginia pictured him again, those strong arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close. Her body responded, desire blooming with the vivid memories. He could make all of this go away for a little while, she thought. She allowed the scene to carry on, soft lips kissing her deeply, warm hands sliding over her skin, bodies pressing together on that large bed while—

Stop it. She struggled to get control of her feelings, determined not to give him the power to hurt her again. "I can't . . . Paul is here, Janine is sleeping."

"I understand." He sounded disappointed, or maybe she was just reading too much into his tone.

"I should tell you, I'm going to make a statement tomorrow. You might want to arrive either before or after to avoid a total riot."

"I'll do that. Goodnight . . . Ginny." He said her name softly, like a caress.

Another wave of pleasure washed over her and she hesitated, wanting to keep him with her as long as possible. When it became too awkward, she let out a quiet, "Goodnight."

The line deadened and her momentary bliss perished in the stillness, too weak to win out over the regret that his voice was now gone.

END OF CHAPTER TWELVE

God, that phone call. I get sucked in every time I read it. I probably would have gone with my gut. What do you think? Should she have taken him up on his invitation?

Some sweet motivation. I'm not sure Mark would say please though ;)