Knock Me Off My Feet

Chapter 15

On the evening of September 22, Audie found herself in the grand ballroom of the Drake Hotel, surrounded by gold filigreed columns, lemon-yellow walls, tuxedos, and sparkling crystal chandeliers.

So much for being chopped into itty-bitty pieces and shoved inside freezerbags, she thought. Her body was one big miserable chunk of living flesh tonight, on display in a strapless port wine gown Marjorie had selected for the occasion.

At least it wasn't pink.

But so what if her body was in one piece? Her heart was bashed to smithereens. She was so sad that her skin felt sore to the touch. Her head ached. Her feet hurt inside a pair of beaded red evening shoes. She felt like she was going to cry again.

Audie wandered toward the open bar across the room, glad that she'd let Drew escort her tonight and wishing he'd hurry back. That morning, she'd gone for a sail-alone with her brother, out on the water, for hour after hour.

She couldn't remember the last time they'd talked like that. Probably because they never had. It was like going on a blind date-they had to start from scratch. There were so many surprises, yet she sensed that Drew was slowly working himself up to something big-something that was horribly painful for him. She promised him that when he was ready, she'd listen.

Thebiggest shock of all came when he told her he'd always wanted to do the Homey Helen column. She thought she'd heard wrong, and then when he repeated it, the two of them nearly died from the laughter. At some point it disintegrated into plain old crying-crying for their mother, their father, for everything they could never get back.

At one point Drew made this observation: "We probably should have talked a long time ago."

"Yeah," Audie said. "That might have been good."

Now what was taking him so long? She'd asked him to run to the office to get her letter of resignation, which she'd forgotten to bring along. Their plan was to talk with Malcolm together, but if Drew didn't hurry, she might have to face Malcolm without him.

Besides, the truth was that without Drew at her side, she felt quite alone and out of place in this sea of people. All she wanted was to tie up loose ends and escape without too much drama. Then she could go home and get out of this dress and get on with her life.

A life without Homey Helen.

A life without Quinn.

"What kind of beer you got?"

"Beer?" The young bartender looked shocked.

"Yes. B-e-e-r." Audie rolled her eyes and nearly said out loud, "What? Can't a woman in a strapless red gown have a beer?"

"On tap, we've got Killian's, Beck's, and Old Style. In bottles we've got Heineken and Sam Adams."

"Killian's, please."

She took her beer and wandered out into the press of beautiful people. The Banner's annual fall fling was always a predictably elegant and stuffy affair, and Malcolm spared no expense in entertaining his staff writers and syndicated columnists. With a small smile, she realized it was an exclusive club she was honored to un-join.

She looked around at the opulence and only half-listened to the din of laughter and chatter. After tonight, there'd be no more of this, she knew-Homey Helen was going to be history, and Autumn Adams was just going to be herself.

She lifted her glass and whispered a private toast. "Here's to the first day of Autumn."

How else could she celebrate her freedom? Drew already had said she was welcome to sail every day she wanted until the end of the season. She'd join her winter indoor women's soccer league, as usual. Maybe she'd look into taking a few continuing ed classes at the Learning Annex-cooking, gardening… bagpipes?

She shook her head so hard that her French twist came de-Frenched, and she tried to fix it with one hand. Then she groaned out loud. How many hours had it been since Quinn had made her laugh? Since she'd seen his eyes? Since she'd been thoroughly ravaged? She groaned again.

The strangest part of this whole miserable mess was that every time she thought of Quinn, she smiled. She felt it happening again-the tiniest smile was turning up her lips. Maybe it was just the residue of bliss-his gift to her. She headed back to the bar.

"Another Killian's, please."

"Did you drop it?" The bartender looked young enough to be a college kid, but he was quite cute in his tuxedo, and his smile was big and devilish.

"I chugged it, babe." She took the glass, tilted back her head, drained it, and set it down on the bar with a thud. Then she belched demurely.

"Excuse me."

The young man's face went slack. "Dude! Aren't you Homey Helen?"

"Actually, that was my mother." Audie grabbed a cocktail napkin and dabbed at her mouth. "I'm just a soccer coach with a broken heart."

The young man frowned. "Who in the world broke your heart?"

She belched again. "Broke it all by myself."

"How did that happen?"

"Oh, you know." Audie waved her hand in the air. "I couldn't say the L-word to the most wonderful man I've ever known and now he's convinced I did something really awful that I didn't do and he won't talk to me. Won't answer my calls. Won't answer his door. Your basic nuclear winter."

"Ouch." He leaned across the bar. "I bet I could heat things up for you."

Audie laughed. "Just get me another beer, dude."

When she turned back to face the room, she saw her loose ends walking right toward her. It was show time, with or without Drew.

"Hello, gentlemen."

Malcolm Milton took her hand warmly and patted her shoulder. "You look lovely as usual, Autumn. Now tell me why in the world you haven't taken care of our little housekeeping matter. I refuse to believe the rubbish Russell has just been telling me."

Audie winced. "I should probably confess that I've never been very interested in housekeeping, Malcolm. I think we need to have a chat. Do you have the time now?"

His face fell, and the CEO turned to Russell, and Audie watched Malcolm's mouth became smaller, paler, and tighter. With each passing second, Russell looked closer to tossing his cookies.

It might have been the Killian's. It could've been the rush of being herself after so long. But on her way to the white-linen-covered table with the huge fall centerpiece, Audie felt like jumping up and down and hooting.

The second they all were seated, she made her position clear. There would be no reconsidering. She was finished.

"Thank you for your generosity and support, Malcolm, and for helping my mother with her career from the very beginning. She liked and trusted you very much." Audie took a deep breath and continued. "But here's the good part-Drew wants to do it."

Russell made a sound in between a laugh and a scream of horror. Malcolm sat quietly, his face completely blank; then he got up and walked away.

"I take it he's not thrilled with the idea?" Audie said half to herself and half to Russell.

"Oh… my… God." Russell was obviously in shock, and Audie watched his pulse beat bang at the tight white collar of his tuxedo shirt. "When did you find out about this?" He turned fierce gray eyes in her direction.

"Today. He's going to give you a call Monday. He's very excited-wants to make a bunch of changes. Good luck, Russ."

Audie reached out her hand and waited until Russell, in shocked silence, offered his. She pumped it hard and smiled at him. "Later."

She turned toward the curved carpeted stairs that led from the ballroom floor to the sitting rooms and lounges. Just a few more steps and she'd be free of this room. Of this life. She'd wait for Drew out front. She'd mail her resignation to Malcolm on Monday.

Audie felt someone reach for her wrist, and she pivoted quickly to see the bartender.

He flashed her a toothy grin. "Just wanted to let you know I'm going on break. Would you like to come with me?" He opened his tuxedo jacket to reveal two Heinekens stuffed in an inside pocket.

Audie laughed, surprised and flattered by his determination. She studied him a moment, admiring just how cute he really was-greenish eyes, sandy straight hair, a wide, sensual mouth… "Oh, hell!" she groaned.

"Hey, I'm twenty-one, if that's what you're thinking. Whaddya say, soccer coach?"

Audie sighed. "Look, thanks for the beers and the offer, but no. I need to go home."

"With or without company?"

Jeez, the guy was stubborn, and for a second she was tempted. But it would only be a pale imitation of what she really wanted, and no amount of wishful thinking would turn this kid into Quinn.

She popped up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Go find a girl to love. She's out there. Have faith."

She went running up the stairs, holding up her long skirts as she went. Maybe Drew was on his way in the front door. That would mean three minutes and they'd be at her car. Fifteen minutes and she could get out of this stupid dress and stupid shoes that made her look like Dorothy in the Land of Oz. She couldn't wait to get the hell out of Oz.

"Audie?"

What now? She spun around only to find herself staring at… Tim Burke?

Somebody just shoot me.

The run did nothing for him. Nearly ten hard and fast miles along the sticky, dark lakefront, and he didn't even feel tired. There was no sense of peace in him. Just fury, loneliness, and a stomach-churning dose of doubt.

Quinn peeled off his sweat-soaked clothing and stepped into the shower. He never thought he'd say this, but he missed Rocky Datillio. He'd been a roommate in name only, but now that he was married and gone for real, the house felt empty.

Maybe it was just that somewhere in the back of Quinn's mind he'd pictured Rocky moving out and Audie moving in.

He'd pictured a lot of things.

Quinn let the water rush over him and he shuddered. The last two days had been wild. The last two days had nearly done him in.

Timmy Burke was looking at nineteen counts of felony assault and two counts of stalking. The mayor went apoplectic. The reporters were salivating all over themselves. Commander Connelly told him that he and Stanny-O had done fine work, but they'd taken ten years off his life expectancy.

Then Quinn came clean to Connelly about his relationship with Audie, and the commander got so red in the face that Quinn was afraid he'd have a stroke on the spot. He had no idea what Connelly was going to do to him on Monday, but it wouldn't be pretty.

At the initial hearing that morning, Tim had been released on a $100,000 bond and told to stay away from Audie. It was what they expected.

After the hearing, Quinn went back to work-it may have been Saturday, but he didn't know what else to do with himself. The congratulations he kept hearing only annoyed him. He and Stanny-O had done their jobs-they'd made an arrest in an important celebrity harassment case. The added bonus was that Timmy Burke had finally gotten what he deserved.

Yet none of it mattered to Quinn.

Because all he thought about was Audie. And all he felt was awful.

Quinn let the cool stream hit his face straight on, hard enough to smack some sense into him, he hoped. Da and Michael and Pat came to see him at the station house today, and Michael had been downright nice to him-a sure sign that he'd become an object of pity.

What a god-awful scene that had been, admitting to them that he hurt like hell.

"We're right here with you, boy-o," his father had said.

Quinn felt like punching something.

He raked his fingers mercilessly through his hair, scruffing up the shampoo, groaning as the water cascaded down the top of his head and along his shoulders.

He couldn't stop picturing the words he'd seen above Audie's signature, and the more he tried not to think about the words, the clearer the mental images became. He knew no amount of running would ever shake the pictures loose from his brain.

Audie had called several times yesterday and today, crying to Stanny-O and begging to talk to Quinn. Rick Tinley drove her out to his house early that morning. But he couldn't face her yet-not until he knew exactly what he wanted to say.

Because the truth was that just two days ago he'd asked Autumn Adams to marry him. But today he almost wished he'd never met her.

Quinn turned and let the water beat down on his back. The nightmares last night had been wicked.

The first was Audie in danger, running from something just beyond his vision, screaming out his name. And though he could see her and hear her, he couldn't reach her, and all he could do was watch helplessly as she cried out.

He woke up nauseous, drenched in cold sweat. And he was angry-so damn angry at himself for failing her.

When he went back to sleep, the torture only intensified. His hands were filled with her warmth and her curves and his fingers were trailing along the hollow of her throat, running down the silken slope beneath her ribs, dipping into the slippery center of her, so ready for him. He was lost in her scent and her heat and was disappearing into everything she was when he woke up-his body in agony.

Despite everything, Quinn ached for her touch and her laugh. He wanted to hear the way she said his name-"Stacey"-half a private joke and half an endearment.

Goddamn it, he missed her. Despite everything, he loved her. And she loved him-he couldn't be wrong about this. He could not be wrong about Audie.

Then what was he wrong about? Because he was sure as hell wrong about something.

Quinn turned and closed his eyes under the stream of water, feeling the dread grip his heart and squeeze it dry. Something didn't fit and he damn well knew it-he'd known it the instant he and Stan set foot in Timmy's office with the search warrant. But he'd ignored his gut because of the hard, cold evidence that stared him in the face. Besides, Connelly told him his gut couldn't be trusted when it came to Timmy Burke, right? He also had to admit that the prospect of sending Timmy Burke to jail was damn near intoxicating.

So what had he missed? Where was the piece he'd not seen?

Quinn walked through the series of events in his mind for the hundredth time.

Fact: An anonymous call from a City Hall pay phone claimed that the vice mayor's computer contained threats to Homey Helen. The voice was muffled but was possibly that of a female. The message got relayed to Quinn and Stan.

Question: How did the caller get access to Tim's personal files? What motivated the caller to read through them and decide to contact the police?

Fact: The threats were right where the caller said.

Question: Was Timmy so stupid that he'd compose those notes on his office computer? Was he so arrogant he thought he'd never get caught?

Fact: Tim Burke was stalking Audie. Quinn saw him at the library book-signing with his own eyes, and Tinley saw him at the coffee shop. Plus, there was the other hard evidence-the flower delivery receipts, the security video of Audie's apartment building, the phone records.

Question: If Timmy was sleeping with Audie, what motive would he have for stalking her? It ran contrary to everything he knew about the psychology of stalkers-people obsessed with "proving their love" to someone who had rejected their advances. That love letter described a lot of activities, but rejection wasn't one of them.

Fact: Timmy hated Quinn. Audie's letter had been lying right on top of the desk for the world to see, and Timmy surely wanted Quinn to read it and go insane with jealousy-which was exactly what had happened.

Quinn rubbed his eyes and his groan of frustration echoed off the bathroom walls.

Why the hell had Timmy taken everything so calmly? Why didn't his lawyers raise a stink about anything? It was almost as if Tim wanted to be arrested, wanted to go to jail.

Quinn raked his hands through his wet hair. Maybe he needed to look at this another way, keep the two pieces of evidence separate. First the love letter. Was it possible-just possible-thatthe love letter was a fake put there for his benefit? Was it meant to distract him? Keep him away from Audie?

Quinn's heart was hammering in his chest. Was it possible that Timmy was willingly taking the fall for someone else? But who? Andrew Adams? And why? It made no goddamn sense!

Quinn hung his head and let the water fall like a curtain over his eyes. The uneasy feeling he'd been carrying around for two days was now a screeching, piercing alarm going off in his brain. And it was telling him to look at whoever had picked up the phone and called 911.

The caller may have been a female-was she the perpetrator? This female would have to have known everyone involved and know exactly how to make all the pieces fit together. She had to know Tim Burke. She had to know enough about Audie's life to use it against her. She had to have access to Audie's stationery.

Quinn slammed off the shower, bashed his fist against the tile wall, and hung his dripping head. Jaysus God.

Marjorie Stoddard?

He didn't know why or how, but he knew he was right.

The next few moments were a blur. Quinn raced around the house naked and wet, making one call after the next. First Audie's home-he got her answering machine. Where was she? Next he paged Stan, Connelly, and the state's attorney's office. He threw on his clothes, ran out through his backyard, and got into his car.

"Goddamn it!" he hissed, spinning out of the alley. Didn't Audie say she was going to some ball tonight? Where? The Drake? He called for backup at the Drake and requested officers he sent to Marjorie's home address.

As he blew through red lights and snaked through weekend traffic, Quinn realized with rising fear exactly what Marjorie Stoddard was capable of. He thought of her competence. Her thoroughness and attention to detail. He remembered how she'd looked him in the eye and asked whether Audie had constant police protection.

Not tonight she didn't, thanks to Quinn. He'd pulled the uniforms off duty once Tim was charged-just in time for September 22.

He suddenly saw it so clearly-Marjorie had killed Helen Adams. Why and how, he couldn't say yet, but she'd done it. Marjorie was a killer. A killer with big plans for Audie.

Quinn slammed the gas pedal to the floor and felt the fury build inside him.

What had he done? Had he been too busy fighting with Timmy Burke to protect someone he loved? Was history about to repeat itself?

Had he just let Audie die?

Drew flicked on the lights.

He could count on one hand the number of times he'd been in this place and he'd hated every moment of every visit-because she'd always been there. Tonight it was the silence that made it eerie. He shivered.

Drew headed straight into Audie's office.He hadn't seen it since Helen died, and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. My God, it was amazing that Audie had held up as long as she had! Drew had to give her credit. He was proud of his sister for trying so hard.

He spied the legal-sized folder on top of a precariously balanced pile of… debris, really, and smiled to himself. Things were certainly going to be different around here from now on, now that he was going to be running the show.

The first mistake to be corrected would be Marjorie. The next thing to go would be the god-awful name Homey Helen. He'd give Griffin a trial run, see how things went. He seemed like a decent enough guy.

Drew strolled back into the front office and headed for the door, but something caught his eye.A plain white envelope sat propped up against the back of Marjorie's desk chair. In flowing cursive writing he saw the words "Getting My Affairs in Order."

A tingle spread through Drew's body, and he found himself standing over the chair, staring, reaching toward the envelope in slow motion with a shaking hand.

The sickening sense of dread was back and his mouth went dry as he opened the envelope and a pair of earrings fell out into his palm-small, elegant gold twists he'd given to his mother for her birthday several years ago. But these were the ones the police said were never recovered…

As Drew's eyes raced across the first sentence, he knew he didn't have a second to waste. He called the police, ran out of the building, and prayed that Audie wasn't already dead.

Tim Burke's hair and smile were perfect and he was wearing an outrageously expensive tuxedo accessorized with a surgically enhanced blonde, and Audie smiled-it was like looking at Satanic Ken on a date with Hose-Bag Barbie!

"Tim Burke," she chirped. "Is prison food as bland as they say?"

"Audie, please." His voice was soft and tortured and it was the last thing she expected. She turned slowly to see that he was absolutely stricken. "Please. One minute."

Tim whispered to his date and she went down the stairs without him.

Audie's heart was thumping and she could barely breathe. "The clock's ticking."

"I didn't threaten you with those letters, Audie. Please believe me."

"Good-bye."

"Audie!" He gripped her arm-hard. "I love you! I've loved you since the first minute I saw you!" He lowered his voice to a whisper, aware that people were starting to stare. "I would never hurt you, sweetheart, but I think you really are in danger-it's Marjorie."

Audie's jaw dropped and she shook her arm away from his. "You're sick. And your girlfriend's waiting."

He shook his head sadly. "She means nothing to me, and I'm not the one who's sick. Marjorie is. I hate to say this, but I'd stick close to the police for a while if I were you. She put those letters in my computer yesterday, Audie. She forged that love letter to me. She wants to hurt you."

Audie began to tremble.

"I'm real worried about you."

Tim was absolutely sincere, Audie realized. He was telling the truth-at least what he thought was the truth-and the questions whirled around in her mind and her heart until she could hardly breathe. Then Tim said, "I'll never stop trying with you, Audie," and he reached for her hand.

That did it. Her brain snapped to attention. She almost fell for it! "Are you threatening me?" she whispered.

"I'm telling you that you deserve so much better than Quinn. I'll wait as long as I have to."

Suddenly the fear disappeared and she started laughing, somewhat hysterically.

"Let me see if I've got this straight," she said, still laughing. "You're innocent. Marjorie is a head case. And you're going to wait around until you're a better man than Stacey Quinn? Is that it? 'Cause that means you'll be waiting for all eternity, Timmy-like until the Cubs win the World Series!"

"Wha-"

She realized she was yelling at the top of her lungs now, but she couldn't stop.

"You will never be as fine a person as Stacey Quinn, or anyone in that family. Give it up!"

Tim stared at her in quiet shock for a moment, then sneered. "I see you fell for Quinn's 'retarded little brother' sob story. Works like a charm. I wish I had a dollar for every blow job he's gotten out of-"

Audie shifted her weight, cocked back her right arm, and made solid contact with the left side of Tim Burke's face. He went sprawling to the floor in a puddle of tuxedo-in front of the full contingent of Chicago 's media elite.

She heard the whir and saw the flash of cameras all around her.

"That was from the Quinns, you total sleaze!" She headed for the ballroom exit and shouted over her shoulder, "And if you ever bother me again, you'll regret it!"

Her hands reached out to push open the doors but encountered a solid male chest instead. She whipped her head around to find Quinn blocking her way, frozen, his mouth open, his eyes wide, and his gun drawn, Drew panting at his side. Right behind them were four uniformed Chicago police officers.

So much passed through her in that instant of contact-heat and love and so many desperate questions and so much regret-that all she could do was let out an incoherent sob. Her hands fell away from his chest.

"Nice cut," he said.

She found her voice. "How long-?"

His eyes were intense. Determined. "Long enough, Homey."

Audie began to shake her head, trying to remember where she was, who she was, and whether she was asleep or awake. Then she became aware of the deafening silence of the ballroom, saw the cops run to help Tim Burke off the floor, and saw Quinn staring at her with his lion-at-breakfast look-and the world dissolved into a blur around them.

Audie watched as Quinn, without a word, grabbed her hand and slid his mother's claddagh ring off his pinkie and onto her left ring finger. Then his warm hand grasped hers. He smiled at her. And out of the corner of her eye,Audie saw Marjorie coming toward them.

It all happened so fast that later, when she'd try to sort through all the events of that night, it would seem like a single flash of time to her-an instant that contained a lifetime of joy and fear and horror.

Marjorie had a gun.

Audie got the briefest glimpse of Marjorie's empty, cold face before Quinn threw his body against her and she heard the pop! and her overwhelmed mind explained it away as a tire blowout or fireworks, but then the screams began and a dozen pop-pop-pops exploded from behind her. Audie couldn't breathe… couldn't breathe… because Quinn had fallen on her, dead weight on top of her, and it was then that she felt the heat seeping through the fabric of her dress. He was bleeding all over her.

Audie held his hand in hers and squeezed.

Drew's face was ashen. He looked broken and ill, but he'd stopped crying. And Audie was suddenly filled with a rush of love for her brother she had never thought possible.

The last few hours had provided answers to questions Audie didn't even know she had. Drew had told her everything that he'd been through. The police had made a copy of Marjorie's suicide note for them, and they'd read and re-read the horrible truth about their family and their mother's death until it finally seemed real.

For the first time, Audie could look back on the arc of her life and understand. She didn't like most of what she saw, but at least it made some sense. No wonder her parents' marriage seemed strained! No wonder Drew had been so bitter and unpleasant. No wonder Helen didn't have time for her daughter-she was too busy living the world's most elaborate lie!

Drew and Audie sat for several moments in stunned silence, only vaguely aware of the busy humming and clanking of the hospital just outside the door. The police had found a quiet office for them, and except for Audie's frequent trips to the nurses' station for news on Quinn, that's where they'd stayed.

Audie looked down at herself again and groaned with sadness. Her gown was saturated with Quinn's blood, though it was hardly visible. Not for the first time, she wondered if Marjorie had intentionally selected a dress that wouldn't show bloodstains. Marjorie's own preference for the evening had been white. And she'd been shot so many times…

"I'll go up there with you if you want, Audie."

She blinked away the gruesome image. "What?"

"I'll go with you to see the Quinns."

She smiled at him and shook her head. Drew was right. It was time for her to face the Quinns and whatever huge crowd had formed in the surgery waiting room. The problem was, she had no idea what awaited her up there.

Did the family think she'd slept with Tim Burke? Did they know Quinn had taken that bullet to save her life?

She closed her eyes and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Audie. He's going to make it."

She nodded silently.

"You're perfect for each other."

Her eyes went wide. "Huh?"

Drew chuckled a little at the shock on her face. "The guy's funny and smart and he loves you. I knew it the first time I talked with him. Go for it."

She stared at him.

"Go on up there. You're wearing his ring, and if you're going to marry him, you'll have to deal with the Hibernians from hell sooner or later. So go."

"You'll be OK?"

"Fine. Please call me at the house when there's news."

She kissed Drew on the forehead and left. On the way to the bank of elevators, she saw a wooden door with a stained-glass window and a brass plaque that read simply: "Chapel." She sucked in her breath and slipped inside. Audie slid into a pew toward the back and listened to the steady mechanical breath of the air-conditioning vents as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She saw a few solitary forms toward the front.

OK. She was going to try to have faith now. So she folded her hands and tried to say a prayer.

Not that she'd ever prayed for anything in her life. She didn't know who or what to send her prayer to or what words to use or feelings to feel. Maybe God would understand that she sucked at prayer.

She bowed her head and gripped her hands tight in her lap, and the tears plopped from her eyes onto the dark silk of her dress.

Quinn would live. She had faith. He had to live.

It was ridiculous, she knew, but when she thought of Quinn she saw just two things-the green fire in his eyes when he pulled her close and said, "Come here to me," and the wooden swing set in his backyard.

Stupid. Quinn's face in passion and a swing set-but that's all she saw, all she felt, all she was, and she focused on those images as if they would save her, save him.

"God, please let him live," she whispered out loud, not caring if anyone heard. "Please give me a chance to love him."

Next, she asked for courage-a lot of it. Then she took the elevator to the waiting room to face the Quinns.

The place was packed. She saw Jamie, Michael, Sheila, Kiley, and Little Pat, Aunt Esther, plus Stanny-O and Commander Connelly and an assortment of faces she recognized and many she didn't, and she realized she was just standing there, her chest heaving, her heart breaking, a ridiculous woman in a ball gown the color of blood, standing where she suspected she wasn't welcome.

Suddenly little Kiley stepped out from the row of chairs against the wall and ran to Audie, gripping her skirt.

She took in a sob of breath to ask the only question that mattered. "Is there any news?"

Michael narrowed his eyes at her and answered in a wooden voice, "Nothing more."

She nodded. Staring at her were at least two dozen members of the Garda Band, many of the Beverly neighbors she had met at the party' several Area 3 detectives, and a half-dozen uniformed officers.

Audie began to absently stroke Kiley's dark curls, hoping the rhythm would remind her to breathe, then lowered her head. "Oh, God. Quinn," she whispered to no one.

Pat then entered the room and stood off to her side. She looked up at all of them, stopping on Pat's face. He seemed the most receptive.

"It's my fault."

The tears poured down her cheeks and trickled down into the bodice of her gown, but she didn't have the energy to brush them away. "If it weren't for me-my stupid case, my stupid life-he wouldn't have been shot. I'm so sorry."

Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Audie looked to Sheila's pale and trembling face and then to Michael, who'd been transformed into a stranger by the pain. She couldn't even think of looking at Jamie.

She sought out Patrick again and said, "I screwed up. I'm not very good at this-at love-and I made a huge mistake. I was scared. I was scared that there was something wrong with me and that I'd only hurt him one day-hurt all of you-so I ran away from him." She choked back a sob. "And I ended up hurting everyone anyway."

The room was utterly silent. Everyone stared at her blankly, waiting. Audie was certain they could hear her heart pounding and her blood roaring.

"But at no time did I betray Quinn with Tim Burke." Audie raised her trembling chin. "That I did not do."

How ironic was this? She didn't have the courage to admit that she loved a man as they lay in bed, alone, in the dark. So this is what it got her-she had to spill her guts to a hostile crowd that included children and strangers, in a public place, under fluorescent lights!

"I love Stacey Quinn," she announced in a steady voice, looking from face to face. "He's the first man I've ever loved, and it's the most frightening thing in the world for me to admit, but also the most magical experience of my life. I love him more than anything in the world, and I'd do anything-" the tears kept coming "-anything to get one more chance to earn his love and forgiveness. And yours."

Her shoulders were shaking. She barely heard her own plea. "Just one more chance to love him."

They remained silent.

Then Kiley looked up at her, her eyes brimming with tears, and she said, "I've missed you, Audie. Can you stay this time?"

Pat was moving toward her with one hand extended, but Jamie threw out an arm to block him, and his voice filled the room. "I'll do it, Patrick."

Kiley let loose and ran back to Sheila.

This was it.

Jamie was a huge man, a man in agony-a man who had said Audie wasn't worth the trouble. What had Sheila once said about him? "If you're stupid enough to go back on your word or hurt one of his boys, God help you."

Audie stood tall, ready for whatever was about to happen, when Jamie grabbed her hand and pulled her fingers up to his chest. He stared for a moment at the ring on her finger-the one he'd given his wife so long ago-and with an unreadable expression, gently released her. His palm was coming toward her face, and she braced herself.

"Put your head here, lassie," he said.

Jamie pressed Audie against his chest as a big, cool palm stroked her cheek and her hair. Then he brought both arms around her and squeezed. Kiley returned to her place on Audie's legs, and Little Pat was holding one of her hands and Sheila and Mike and Pat and Aunt Esther and Stanny-O had gathered around them in a circle, all clutching to one another.

Audie breathed in Jamie, heard him whisper, "Please forgive me, dear girl," and allowed the dam to break inside her heart, once and for all.

Audie's body shook with sobs of sorrow and joy and she clung to him, clung to everyone, as the realization washed over her.

She wasn't alone anymore. She was one of the Quinns.

"Excuse me."

The voice cut through the safe cocoon of Audie's brand-new world and she stiffened. Everyone pulled apart to stare at the waiting room doorway, where Tim Burke stood alone, visibly trembling.

Michael was already stumbling toward him in a rage. "Of all the unholy-"

Jamie's big paw reached out and grabbed his son.

"I came to inquire about Stacey." Tim's voice was soft and shaky, and he sent a grateful nod toward Jamie.

Tim looked wilted and pale. His tuxedo shirt was missing several studs. His bow tie was lopsided. He appeared deflated-like somebody had stuck a sharp pin in his ever-ballooning opinion of himself.

It was then that Audie noticed the angry red swelling, around his left eye and cheekbone. Quinn had been right-it had been a nice cut.

"I came to apologize, set things right for Audie's sake, but it looks like she's done OK on her own." Tim straightened his shoulders, and for the first time in more than a year, Audie saw a trace of something redeemable in Tim Burke. Something that approached decency.

He met her direct gaze. "Marjorie has been forging little notes from you all year-saying you missed me, thanking me for the flowers, inviting me to your appearances. Honestly, Audie, I never would have harassed you. I just thought you were talking a while to make up your mind about me."

Audie took a step toward him, Kiley still hanging on her dress. She knew he was telling the truth-just like he had on the ballroom steps.

"I sincerely apologize for my behavior. I never intended to hurt you." Tim dropped his gaze to the mauve indoor-outdoor carpeting under his feet and tugged at his shirt collar. After a moment he raised his head, his expression bleak, and directed the next remarks to Jamie.

"I did mean to hurt Stacey, however. Marjorie and I made up that letter from Audie, Mr. Quinn. I wanted him to be jealous. I wanted him to turn away from Audie and never look back. I wanted-"

Michael was breaking free from his father and Commander Connelly had to add his muscle to Jamie's.

"But Marjorie…" Tim shook his head in wonder and moved his eyes to Stanny-O. "I turned my back for five minutes and that crazy old bitch copied all those notes in my computer. Then when you and Stacey showed up with the search warrant, I realized she'd handed me the opportunity I'd been looking for! I mean, all I had to do was keep my mouth shut for as long as it took for you two to drag my ass to jail, charge me, and sacrifice me on the altar of modern journalism, right? Then I could turn Marjorie in, sue the pants off everyone for slander and false arrest, and ruin Stacey's career, all while earning the sympathy of every goddamned registered voter in the city of Chicago! I couldn't have planned it better myself!"

Tim shrugged. Then his voice softened. "Jesus-I had no idea what Marjorie had up her sleeve, but Stacey figured it out on his own and ended up getting shot. Believe me, I didn't mean for that to happen. Anyway, I thought I owed you the whole story."

The room was deathly silent except for the sound of Michael's labored breathing. Audie suddenly felt the little hands on her skirt relax and watched in amazement as Kiley marched right up to Tim Burke.

Kiley's fists were balled at her sides and she raised her chin to look into his eyes.

"You're nothing but a double butt face," she said with conviction. "Nobody here respicks you very much. You better go home."

Tim nodded and left the room.

"The doctor's coming out."

All heads whipped around at Stanny-O's announcement, and for a second Audie wondered if she was strong enough to stay standing. But Sheila's arm came around her waist and Jamie's hand covered hers in a vice grip.

"He's stable," were the only words the surgeon could get out before the room erupted in cheers. It took a full minute before it quieted enough for her to continue.

"Detective Quinn is a very lucky man," the surgeon said, untying a mask from behind her head. "The bullet went into his flank and caused a great deal of damage. He's going to be one kidney short of a matched set, but he'll make it."

With those words, the room exploded in cheers again and Jamie Quinn fell to the floor on his knees, talking Audie with him, where he proceeded to cry like a baby in her arms.

In the morning, Quinn asked to see his family. They went in together and there was a lot of messy tears and swearing and laughing-entirely too much noise for a hospital room, Audie thought.

She remained near the door to give everyone a chance to see him, but Quinn began asking for her and they stepped aside so she could get closer.

She touched his hand and stood by his side, not moving or breathing, just drowning in relief at the feel of his warm fingers on hers.

"Thank you for not dying," she said, which greatly amused everyone. Quinn gave her fingers a squeeze and tried to smile.

"Let's give them a few minutes, all right?" Jamie bent down and kissed his son on the cheek. "We'll be outside, boy-o."

As Pat brushed by Audie, he whispered in her ear, "I seethat your prayer worked." She watched in amazement as he winked at her, then softly shut the door behind him.

She turned her eyes to Quinn. He was pale and still and hooked to tubes and wires. His lips were dry and cracked. But his eyes were alive-he was alive-and she stroked his brow to let him know it was all right to rest.

"I'm glad to be here, Audie," he said, barely a whisper.

"Oh, God, you have so many people who love you!" she blurted out, embarrassed at the desperation in her voice. "I mean… I just… I don't think they could have… if you didn't make it, they… Oh, God!"

Audie's lips were shaking and her chin was trembling and she grabbed his hand in both of hers. When he opened his eyes, she saw how tired he was, but there was laughter there, too, and it reassured her. If he was laughing, he was going to be fine.

"Tell me who loves me," he croaked, clamping down on her fingers with surprising strength.

She inclined her head a little and smiled at him. "You want me to give you a list of everyone who loves you?"

He nodded, eyes half-closed.

"Do they have to be in alphabetical order?"

He smiled weakly. "I need to hear the names," he whispered.

"All right. There's Kiley and Little Pat, of course. Father Pat. Mike and Sheila. Jamie. Aunt Esther. Commander Connelly. And Stanny-O, who said the only reason you survived was the amount of Guinness in your blood."

He smiled bigger and grimaced.

"Then there's everybody at District Eighteen and at Area Three. Everybody at Keenan's Pub. Everyone in the Garda Band. And all the people from the neighborhood-I can't remember anyone's name except for Belinda Egan, the lady with the worm in her brain-and those are just the people out there in the waiting room."

He nodded, so tired now. "Is there one more?"

Audie leaned close to his ear, kissed him softly, and whispered, "Have faith, Stacey Quinn. I'll love you until we both dry up and blow away."

Audie watched him lose the fight against exhaustion, a lopsided grin spreading over his face even as his eyelids closed. She felt his fingers search hers until he found it-the claddagh ring-just where he'd put it the night before.

Quinn sighed deeply. He was nodding off. "One question?"

"Anything," she said.

It came out gravelly and weak, but she heard it just the same.

"Marry me."

Then he fell asleep, the smile frozen on his face, apparently confident that she'd say yes.

Audie smiled down on him and smoothed his hair. "Dream on, you cocky bastard," she whispered.