“Breathe,” I said.

She breathed.

“Just keep breathing. Don’t try to talk.”

She talked. “What happened?” she said.

“I saved your life. Second time today.”

“No, with Benoit.

“You blew him out of the water into bite-size chunks.”

“I was only trying to stun him.”

“He must’ve had a pocket full of C4. You couldn’t light it up with a bazooka, but if he had it primed with a blasting cap, all it took was one good Tase.”

I could hear the sirens. Then I saw them coming at us from all angles-Harbor Patrol, fireboats, Coast Guard, and at the front of the pack, Jim Rothlein in the Kristina.

The last traces of sun were disappearing into the water, and there in the distance, wrapped in a purple and pink New York City twilight, I could make out the Statue of Liberty.

“I guess this is how Benoit’s movie ends,” I said.

The water was cold, and Kylie, shivering, pressed her body as close to mine as she could get. “As they say in the biz,” she said, “‘fade to black.’”

I wrapped my arms around her, held her tight, and whispered in her ear, “Roll credits.”

EPILOGUE

END CREDITS

Chapter 96

New yorkers love a hero, and when they woke up Thursday morning, they had two new ones. Splashed across the front page of the Daily News was the headline “Dynamic Duo Foils Hollywood Killer.”

Below it was a picture of Spence Harrington in his hospital bed with Kylie sitting at his side.

The headline on page 3 said “Bomber Nails Producer. Producer’s Wife Nails Bomber.” The story was accompanied by a shot of Kylie in an evening gown and Spence in black tie which had been taken just a few days before at Radio City.

There was also an inset photo of me, my official department head shot, captioned “Kylie MacDonald- Harrington’s other partner, Detective Zachary Jordan.”

It was hard to believe. On Monday, I had woken up wondering if teaming up with Kylie MacDonald would be career suicide. By Thursday, she was a hero, and I had become the Other Guy.

I got to the office at 7:30, and Kylie was already there waiting for me.

“Zach, I’m mortified,” she said, holding the paper in her hand.

“Don’t be,” I said. “You took down Lexi, you took down Benoit, you deserve the glory.”

“But you and I are partners. We were in this together. You’ve been with NYPD Red three years. I’m here all of three days. I don’t know what the press was thinking when they spun the story the way they did.”

“They were thinking that you and Spence are a celebrity couple, and that a picture of the two of you on the front page would sell more newspapers than one of me sopping wet, dragging my ass off a police boat.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can have Spence call the studio publicist and have her get the press to clarify-”

I jumped in fast. “Absolutely not. I’m a cop. I don’t have a publicist, and I don’t want one.”

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” she said.

“Well, yeah, if you don’t mind,” I said.

“Anything.”

“I’d really be honored if you and Spence would autograph my copy of the Daily News.

She punched me in the shoulder. “Asshole.”

“Speaking of Spence,” I said, “how is the other half of the Dynamic Duo this morning?”

“He’s on heavy doses of antibiotics, so they’re keeping him in the hospital for a couple more days, but the surgeon says he’ll be fine. He’ll need crutches for a while, but in about six months, it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

My phone rang. It was Cates.

“You and MacDonald,” she said. “My office. We have some unfinished business.”

It was time to bite the bullet.

“I just watched the mayor’s press conference,” Cates said when we got there. “He blew the usual smoke up Hollywood’s ass. Something on the order of ‘it can get ugly wherever you shoot, but if it happens in New York, you’ll get the fastest, smartest, bravest police force in the world. Nobody backs up the film industry like NYPD Red.’”

“Those are the same exact words Shelley Trager said to him yesterday when the mayor was thinking about canceling the rest of Hollywood on the Hudson week,” Kylie said.

“Nobody ever said our mayor was an original thinker. Anyway, it doesn’t matter what he said. I doubt if it convinced any of the LA crowd to bring more of their business to the city, but I’m sure the sweet tax package Irwin Diamond offered them will work wonders. Bottom line, the mayor is happy. So is the commissioner. He said I should congratulate the two of you on your ‘extraordinary heroism while engaged in personal combat with an armed adversary.’”

“Thank you,” I said.

“His words, not mine,” Cates said. “I, on the other hand, am not happy. I have a problem with cops who work off the reservation. What the hell were you thinking when you blew off my phone call?”

Before I could say a word, Kylie jumped in. “It wasn’t Zach,” she said. “I blew it off.”

“I didn’t call you,” Cates said. “I called Jordan.”

“Yes, but I practically ripped the phone out of his hand,” Kylie said, taking more than her fair share of the heat. “I wasn’t thinking. My husband’s life was on the line, and I was going to save him.”

“And did you think I would have stopped you?” Cates said. “I will back up any detective under my command who operates on guts, instinct, and initiative. You have a lot of authority in this unit, but it’s only because I give it to you. If you ever cut me out of the loop again, I don’t care how many front pages your faces are on, I will transfer your asses right the hell out of NYPD Red. Understood?”

“Understood,” Kylie and I responded in unison.

“That said, I can’t deny what you’ve done. You brought down a serial killer who was on the verge of blowing up a boatload of innocent people.”

“We had help from someone on the boat,” Kylie said. “Charles Connor.”

“Mr. Connor is brave and articulate,” Cates said. “And if I know anything about public relations, somewhere in the next news cycle, he’ll be standing on the steps of city hall, where the mayor will award him the Bronze Medallion for exceptional citizenship. But don’t kid yourselves; Connor would be dead if you two hadn’t showed up. You’re heroes. You did the unit proud, and I’m sure when Detective Shanks gets back he’ll understand why I’m making the two of you a permanent team.”

“Us?” Kylie said. “Permanent?”

“As permanent as things can get in this department,” Cates said. “I myself am always looking over my shoulder to see who’s after my job. It’s a lot easier if one of the contenders works right here, where I can keep an eye on her. Congratulations, Detectives. Dismissed.”

We walked out of the office, and Kylie gave me a high five. “Did you hear what she said, Zach? We’re a permanent team.”

“As long as you don’t piss her off again,” I said, feeling a twinge of remorse over Omar’s impending

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