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His cop, he thought. So troubled. So torn. But here, they were safe and sure. Here, they were right.

He knew, she realized, and turned her face into his throat. He always knew. And the gift of having someone who did, who could, was overwhelming.

“I love you. Roarke. I love you.” Her mouth met his again, hotter now, with the first taste of urgency. “I love you. For all the times I forget to say it.”

The kiss slid back to sweetness. Her heart beat thick, beat steady against his.

In a long, slow movement, he rolled her to her back. He laid his lips on her collarbone as their legs tangled, as hers parted. He could see her now, the shape of her face, the gleam of her eyes. He slid into her, a satin glide of flesh to flesh. A quick and quiet catch of breath.

Again long, again slow, and deep, with her body rising toward his, with his falling toward hers. She shuddered, and groped for his hands. Their fingers linked; their mouths met.

Overhead, dawn broke.

It was still shy of seven when she studied the data Roarke and Jamie had accessed the night before. She frowned over it, chewed over it. Considered.

“Dukes goes down, all the way down. He has to know it. Essentially, he was the button man. Even without a confession, I’m handing the prosecutor a case he’d have to be a baboon to lose.”

“Then why do you look annoyed?”

“I just wonder if this guy knows he was the goat. All along. Whatever, whoever goes down, he takes the heaviest fall. He’s the name the media will trumpet, the image of the effigies burned once the crowd turns. If he hadn’t figured it out, I might be able to use that to convince him to point the finger at anyone I don’t have in the box.”

“And they will turn,” Roarke agree.

“Yeah they will.” She frowned. “Politics,” she said softly. “Hell of a game.”

She glanced over at Roarke. “I’m going to check out a couple things, then head in to start picking him apart. I want a good chunk of time with him before I pass him to Feeney and move onto Peachtree.”

“You’re doing Peachtree at Central?”

“His house. His involvement remains Code Five until he’s formally charged.”

“I want to observe the interviews.” He looked over from where he sat on the bedroom sofa, monitoring the stock reports on the mini-unit and the morning media report on the wall screen.

“What’s the point?”

“The point is closure. I gave way on the bust last night. I want this.”

“What’s the matter with you, Ace? You’re sprung. Job done, game over. You can spike the ball. You can go back to work and buy . . . Alaska or something.”

“I’ve as much acreage and interest in Alaska as I need for the moment. But if your heart’s set on a glacier just send me a memo. You can arrange it, Lieutenant. It’s a reasonable enough request.”

“For Dukes, yeah, but Peachtree—”

“He’s had my support, financially. You’re not the only one who’s pissed-off by this situation. I want to be there for the end of it.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll work it out. But I’m leaving in ten, so you’ll have to—”

“Hold on a minute.” His gaze narrowed on the wall screen as Nadine Furst came on with a flash bulletin.

“This just in. Forty-three people suspected of being part of the group known as The Purity Seekers were taken into custody last night at the Church of The Savior on Franklin Street. This NYPSD operation was headed by Lieutenant Eve Dallas. Police sources identify some of the suspects arrested as Judge Lincoln, a criminal court judge in this city, Michael and Hester Stanski . . .”

“Where did she get the names!” Eve exploded and barely resisted punching a fist at the screen. “We’re not releasing names yet.”

“Listen to the rest,” Roarke told her. “This can’t be it. There’s no point in this kind of leak.”

“Donald Dukes,” Nadine continued, “a former marine sergeant and a computer scientist, was arrested at a private home in Albany and has been taken into custody. Several charges have been brought against Dukes, including conspiracy to commit murder, in regard to the Purity killings over the past week.”

There was a slight pause, then Nadine continued. “But the most disturbing