The gun barrel, in her mouth.
“Suck hard, bitch. You’re good at that. I remember.”
She grabbed his arm, trying to push him away, but he only forced the gun in deeper.
“Don’t fight it. It’s over-for both of us. You go bang. Then your friends swarm in and take me out. Suicide by cop-isn’t that what it’s called? Appropriate, huh?”
She held on to his arm, waiting for the shot she would never feel.
“It’s come full circle. You wearing a uniform is what killed our marriage. Now some other uniforms get to kill me.”
She felt the muscles of his forearm tighten, knew he was applying pressure to the trigger.
“Good-bye, C.J.,” Adam whispered.
Gunshot.
Her head snapped back, thumping on the concrete floor.
Blood in her mouth. Bitter taste. Copper pennies.
He’d shot her-blown off the back of her skull-so why was she alive?
More blood. On her face, in her eyes. Blood everywhere, and the alarm again, shrieking Not the alarm.
Adam.
She was still holding his arm, and she felt wetness coating her hands and realized the gun was not in her mouth any longer, and not in his hand either.
His hand, which flapped limply on a stalk of pulverized bone. His hand shattered at the wrist and spurting blood.
From across the room, a booming fusillade. Parts of the walls fell away as dark figures streamed through.
Adam screaming.
Blood.
Hands on her face, her throat-“No!” she shouted, sure the hands were Adam’s. “Get off me, get off!”
“It’s okay, Killer.” A familiar voice in her ear. “You’re okay.”
Lights came on. The drifting beams of flashlights. Men in flak jackets toting rifles. They seized Adam and wrestled him away as his screams subsided into hiccupping sobs.
Beside her, kneeling, Rick Tanner. Touching her face.
“His blood or yours?” Tanner asked.
She read concern in his eyes as he peered down at her, lit by his own flashlight. Concern and something more. Tenderness.
“C.J.-is it his blood or yours?”
The question got through this time. “His. I think.”
The SWAT team members were bandaging Adam’s wrist, ordering him to hold still, while he whimpered in pain.
“What happened?” C.J. asked, sitting up slowly.
“I had to take the shot. Wasn’t supposed to, but he didn’t leave me any choice.”
“Talk slower. Explain.”
“We landed a chopper right outside-the alarm covered the sound of our arrival. Once we were on the ground, we killed the power to the alarm so we could negotiate. We were ready to talk all night. But when I took up my position in the alley, I heard him threatening you. Got to the window in time to see him put the gun in your mouth.”
“Saw him how? It’s pitch-dark.”
He pulled down goggles, covering his eyes. “Night vision. Swiped it out of the SWAT squad’s gear when we deplaned.”
She saw herself reflected in the lenses. “It looks good on you. Better than those sunglasses of yours.”
He raised the goggles. “Shades are more my style. Anyway, I didn’t want to risk the shot from that distance, so I came inside and got close.”
“Contrary to procedure…”
“Yeah, well, I got news for you, Killer. You’re not the only one who can climb through a window in a hostage-barricade situation to face a crazy man with a gun.”
She had to smile. “Never said I was.”
“Anyhow, I was only five feet away when I unloaded. Blew the gun out of his hand. Was afraid if I went for a head shot, he might squeeze the trigger in a death spasm.”
“You could have called for an invasive entry.”
“Then he would have killed you for sure. Besides, you know what they say about those SWAT raids. They have a way of going wrong sometimes.”
“So I’ve heard,” C.J. said, and she squeezed his hand.
“Now come on. Let’s get you to a hospital.”
“I’m okay.”
“Like hell you are. You’re getting a complete physical, Killer.”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“Tonight it seems appropriate.” He glanced at Adam and smiled. “You took Mr. Nolan for an E-ticket ride.”
She couldn’t argue.
Adam had been subdued now. He lay on his back, hands cuffed over his stomach, a wad of bandages on his wrist. The bandages were already soaking through with blood.
“We need to evac this asshole right now,” one of the SWAT guys was saying. “He’s got a spurting wound. We wait too long, he’ll bleed out.”
“Load him up,” another man ordered.
Tanner led her past Adam, who gazed up at her from the floor. She expected to see hatred in his gaze, but there was only exhaustion.
“You’ve got to admit,” he whispered, “it was one hell of a last dance.”
She just looked at him. “Try not to die, Adam.”
“Why? You thinking we could get back together?” At least he said it with a smile.
“I’m thinking,” she answered, “how much I’ll enjoy testifying against you.”
He laughed. A bubble of blood leaked out of his broken nose.
“You really are a bitch, C.J.” He shut his eyes, still laughing silently. “God damn, I wish I’d killed you.”
“Better luck next time,” she said, walking away.
Tanner whistled. “That’s what I call a love-hate relationship.”
“Heavy on the hate.”
“But it was love once?”
“I don’t know what it was.”
“What’d he mean by that crack about the dance?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” She glanced at Tanner. “You happen to like Emmylou Harris?”
Tanner took a moment to reply. “I can pretend to.”
“Good enough. Friday night, a club in the Valley? Chicken wings and beer?”
“Sounds good, Killer.” He held up a hand before she could protest. “C.J., I mean. See how fast I learn?”
She thought about Adam, her three years wasted with him, and the year of loneliness since. “Faster than I do, I hope.”
Then they were outside, under the bright stars and the setting moon, and a rumpled man in a rumpled jacket was reaching out to take her arm. “Officer Osborn, I’m Detective Walsh.”
She recognized his voice. “You interviewed Adam.”
“Not my finest hour. He snowed me.”
“He’s good at that. Got me to marry him.”
“At least I didn’t go that far.”
The SWAT team moved past, carrying Adam on a gurney. They put him aboard the big chopper that sat not
