EXCERPT

Fear clawed at Zoe's gut, fighting its way to the surface. Pringles of the monster she'd buried zinged beneath her skin, searching for a way out.

People. She had to be around people. If she went home, another monster might be waiting. Zoe wouldn't risk it--not until she had control firmly in her hands. Not until she could face whatever hell awaited her with dignity and strength.

Having my .38 in ready reach wouldn't be bad either.

Gun trumped knife every time. Too bad she'd gotten out of the habit of carrying the weapon. Zoe would rectify that once she got home. Being without threat had made her lackadaisical. If she wasn't diligent...

Dead. She'd be dead.

No. That's why you have the black belt...to protect yourself.

Could she keep her wits about her to remember how to use that skill? Besides, all the martial arts moves in the world couldn't win over a gun. She needed that weapon in her possession.

Zoe gasped for breath, fighting hyperventilation.

Denny's. That's where she could go. Open all night. Always someone there. A favorite place for cops. She'd grab a bite and order her thoughts, make a game plan.

Zoe scanned the jumble of signs, looking for that familiar yellow one. Had she passed it yet? She'd been so upset she barely remembered leaving the precinct. Where the hell was she? Certainly not pointed toward home. She nearly wept with relief when she spied her beacon a block ahead. A Holiday Inn Express was across the street from it. That was an option she hadn't considered. She'd check in for the night, maybe two, get a room on the top floor and hole up until this was over.

She snorted at her foolishness. Clearly, this was never going to be over...until one of them was dead. Zoe didn't plan on that being her.

She eased into the parking lot and found a spot right next to the restaurant. Maybe luck was on her side tonight. Pulling in slow breaths to calm her shattered nerves, she cut the engine. Xavier didn't know where she lived. Chances were slim he'd recognize her on the street--as long as she kept her mouth shut. The encounter was an isolated incident, nothing more. Why would Xavier care? He was rattling her to show he was a big man, nothing more. Old fears ran deep, though. Too deep.

He knows where you work now.

True. Zoe wondered if her subconscious had steered her to take an alternate route home.

Silly. The shooting was across town. There's no way he could--

She cut off the thought. There was always a way for a determined person, and he'd sounded damned determined. Thank goodness, her parents were vacationing in Maui and her sister visiting friends in New York. Xavier couldn't have picked a better time to make his move. For another panicked moment, Zoe wondered if he'd planned this. Just as quickly she dismissed the idea. Xavier never planned anything; he was volatile and driven by rage and a very short-temper.

Damn it all, she'd thought this was all in the past. Now she'd inadvertently crossed paths with him. His threat wasn't an idle one. Xavier would hunt her down. It was only a matter of time.

Not if the cops get him first.

Zoe was counting on that. Talk about determination. Xavier had killed a police officer tonight, seriously wounding another. He was a marked man. She prayed they got to him before he got to her.

A thorough look around confirmed her safety. Still, she didn't let her gaze or attention wander as she looped her purse strap over her shoulder, clutched the hobo bag against her side, and stepped from her F-150. Her rubber soled ankle boots thunked on the sidewalk. Zoe wasted little time getting inside. Once the doors closed behind her, she let the hostess's smile scatter the dark shadows lingering in her mind...at least for the moment. The woman's nametag identified her as Jennifer.

"One?" she asked.

"Yes, just one," Zoe said.

Jennifer plucked a menu from the box behind her. "Table or booth?"

Under normal circumstances her answer would be table. Tonight Zoe didn't want to be that exposed. "Booth. Away from the window." Her back against the wall with a clear view of the entrance.

"Right this way." Jennifer led her down the aisle, nodding to other diners as she took Zoe into the bowels of the restaurant.

Zoe saw the men and women too late. Twelve police officers and detectives occupied a large section of tables in the back room where Jennifer intended to seat her. Zoe tapped at the woman's long white sleeve in a vain effort to subtly catch her attention. Again, too late. One by one the men and women stopped what they were doing, all eyes latching onto Zoe. Chairs rumbled against the carpet as they stood...and applauded her.

She wanted to crawl in a hole and never come out. The only thing that kept her feet rooted in place was the pride on Frank Ludwig's face. Zoe's heartbeat triple-timed. If he only knew...

"Come join us." Officer Joanie Robertson yanked over a chair from a nearby table, while Frank's partner, Theo Garcia, waved Zoe their way.

Only that morning Robertson had gone out of her way to avoid her. Zoe was their hero tonight. Tomorrow things would go back to the way they were. Zoe didn't want to muddy the waters by socializing.

She'd heard what some of her co-workers said behind her back; a few even said it to her face. Some of them meant well; the others didn't. Zoe'd learned to live with scathing remarks, dirty looks, and kindhearted suggestions. After all, she had only herself to blame for the way she looked. She wasn't a small girl. But Frank--hot Frank who shared her bed in Zoe's nightly fantasies--accepted her with no questions, no attempts to change her. Their friendship was unconditional.

"No, thank you." A polite smile came with her refusal. "It's been a long shift. I need to decompress." Then she squeezed into the booth, her back to them, and accepted the menu from Jennifer.

"Anything to drink?"

A bottle of your cheapest wine. And put a straw in it. "Iced tea, no lemon."

"Coming right up."

Zoe stared at the menu. Conversation behind her fell to whispers. Words swam before her eyes. Damn, she was going to start bawling right here. A shadow blocked the light. The second she glanced up, Frank slid in beside her.

"Scoot over." He butted her hip against hers.

"What are you doing?" Zoe refused to budge.

"I'm sitting with you. What does it look it?"

She flicked her fingers toward the opposite seat. "Then sit there."

"You know I can't sit with my back to the door."

"It looked to me like that's what you were doing over there." She motioned to the party behind them.

Frank shrugged. "I lost the toss. Only fair way to determine seating when you have a table of cops." He nudged again. "Scoot."

It occurred to Zoe that she could move to the other seat. That meant leaving the brief joy of having Frank next to her. The man made her feel all kinds of crazy happy inside. Safe and sheltered, small and feminine. Worry and fear didn't dare bother her with Frank by her side. His sheer personality warned them away. She wanted to lean into his solid body and cry her heart out.

"How nice you ran into your husband." Jennifer slid a tall glass of iced tea across the booth.

Reality slapped Zoe's daydreams to bits. "Oh, he's not my husband."

Frank plopped his hand over hers and squeezed. "Not yet."

Jennifer's smile drained the power grid. "When's the wedding?"

"We're not engaged either." Zoe slipped her hand from under his and grabbed her straw.

"Not yet." Frank dropped his hand to her thigh, shocking Zoe senseless. Her clit cheered at how near he was. Juices flowed in anticipation of more. "I'm still trying to get her to notice me."

Jennifer's gaze ping-ponged between them. Her smile dimmed while she pondered a response, or planned how she could get Frank for herself. Although, he was a bit old for her. Hell, he was a bit old for Zoe, too, but that didn't stop her from lusting after him. She'd calculated around a ten-year age gap. Her fantasies of him pressing her against the nearest wall and fucking her senseless didn't care. A thread of jealousy twined its way to the surface. If Jennifer started flirting--

"Then I'm guessing this will all be on one ticket?" Jennifer finally asked.

"Absolutely." This time Frank draped his arm around Zoe shoulders and squeezed.

Zoe steeled herself against the rush of emotion. What the hell was he up to? She was going to have to stock up on batteries before she went home tonight--if she went home--and she just might send the bill to Frank.

"We still need a few minutes," he told Jennifer.

"I'll make sure your server knows."

Zoe waited until Jennifer's back was turned, then shrugged his arm away. "Quit joking. I'm not in the mood to be played with." A lie. Most nights she wanted nothing more than for Frank to play with her. Zoe stabbed her straw amid the ice cubes and took a long sip. Although at the rate her horny was building, dumping the glass into her lap might be a better idea.

Frank rested his forearms on the table, body half-turned her way--which was quite a feat since he took up as much space as Zoe. "I'm not joking or playing. Consider this our first date."

She stirred the ice, refusing to meet the gaze burning a hole through the side of her face. Tolliver's death was going to have long-term repercussions. "Look, it's been a long day. I know how grateful you are that--"

"It's got nothing to do with gratitude." He leaned closer, warmth surrounding her. "Open your eyes, honey."

She was clueless and didn't feel like dancing around whatever he was hinting at. So she let her silence build a wall between them.

Frank eased away, taking that warmth with him. Zoe's heart cried for the loss.

"I don't think she could've seated us at a smaller booth." Frank planted his feet on the floor and pushed the booth back. "That's better."

"Is that even allowed?" she whispered.

"What's she going to do? Lock me up? I'm the poe-lease." He thumbed his chest.

Zoe snickered. She knew she shouldn't encourage him, especially when she was still displeased over his previous antics. She pretended her tea held more interest, which earned her his body bracketing hers once more. This is how it'd feel if they had sex--Frank looming over her, taking charge of their pleasure. God, she ached!

"Sure you don't want something a little stronger than tea?" he asked.

"Driving." Zoe drew her finger through the moisture beading her glass.

"I'll see you get home safe and sound. After what you did today, you deserve a drink...or two." His arm brushed hers. She'd rather have it around her again, even if he'd meant it as a joke.

"My truck--"

"I'll either make sure it gets to your house, or I'll pick you up in the morning." Long fingers traced hers. "You're shaking."

Fear coupled with a looming adrenaline crash did that to a person.

"What can I get you two cuddlebugs tonight?"

Zoe and Frank jumped at the server's abrupt appearance. Norma hovered at the table, pad in hand, gray hair combed back in a tight ponytail that dangled in its mesh bag, making it resemble something you'd pull from a bathroom sink drain. Zoe didn't bother to correct Norma's assumption they were a couple. What harm could come from pretending?

"The lady would like a glass of merlot. We'll have patty melts with fries." He glanced at Zoe for confirmation, then, at her nod, told their server, "And an order of onion rings."

"Coming right up." Norma shot off. Zoe had never seen anyone move so fast.

"I'm going to need the wine to scrub my veins from this high cholesterol meal." She pushed her tea aside. Frank took it for himself.

"It's comfort food, and we damn well deserve it. You especially. We're alive. It's time we started taking advantage of that."

He'd closed her in again, his body nearly surrounding her. Zoe didn't give an inch. This was what it felt like to be near the man. She soaked it all in for her fantasies later.

"You saved a man's life tonight, Zoe. That sweet voice of yours gave DiCarlo hope to hang on. Because of you, he'll see his wife and kids again. There isn't a cop on the force who hasn't heard about it, or listened to it play out over the radio."

Did they also hear Tolliver's last gasping breath? She hadn't been able to save him. It was a miracle she'd stopped Xavier when she did. A quirk of fate. Hearing her voice intrigued him enough to spare DiCarlo...and make her his new target.

Ay chica...such a pretty voice. Like an angel in the night. Maybe I come see you, eh? Clip those wings again. Your friend here, he ain't gonna last. I cut him deep. Try, bitch. You're next, and I'm gonna make it hurt.

"I'll bet the sound clip's already gone viral," Frank said. "You know the newshounds have glommed on to it."

Yes, they'd already started swarming the precinct for information as she left work.

Zoe grabbed the merlot when the glass appeared and gulped down half.

"Easy, honey." Frank put his arm around her, fingers tracing soothing circles on her shoulder. "The guys are on it. They'll figure out who this asshole is and put him behind bars."

Oh, God. "They...they don't know who he is?" A drop of wine splashed on the back of her hand. She was shaking, but she couldn't loosen her death grip on the glass.

"Not yet. He wore gloves, had a ski mask on. Took the knife with him. Left no trace."

Shit. Now what? She stared at that drop of wine, frozen on her skin as if time itself had stopped waiting for her to woman-up.

"I...I know who he is." Zoe barely heard the words herself, so surely Frank hadn't. She wasn't sure she could dredge the courage to say them again.

"What? How?"

Her pride took a nosedive, but it was a small price to pay for taking a cop killer off the streets.

"Xavier Sanchez. We lived together years ago. I'm the reason he was sent to prison in the first place. That threat he made to me over the radio was real." She drained the glass and signaled Norma for another.