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cop." He kicked off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed with his hands supporting his head.
    Behind him, Barbara also sat up."How do you know what they're doing?"
    "Because I was over there watching them."
    Even though his back was to her, Burke imagined her frowning with consternation."Are you insane? Are you trying to get yourself fired?
    If Doug Pat is forced to fire you, will that make everything all right?
    Would losing your job make you happy?"
    '"It would make you happy."
    "What's that supposed to mean?"
    He shot her a pointed look over his shoulder."Like you haven't been after me for years to leave the department."
    "I don't want you to leave it in disgrace," she said angrily.
    He snorted a caustic laugh."Oh, I see. No wonder you didn't come to the courthouse during the trial. You didn't want to be associated with the disgrace of the N.O.P.D, which, ironically, is an organization you've bad-mouthed for years."
    During the course of their marriage, a recurring argument had been over his work. Barbara wanted him to give up police work in favor of something less demanding and more lucrative. Discussions on the subject started out in a fractious mode and usually deteriorated into shouting matches that resolved nothing, but left in their wake disaffection and resentment on both sides.
    Barbara always fell back on the argument that if he loved her, he would take her feelings into account. Burke's argument was that if she loved him, she wouldn't ask that he stop doing what he loved to do. What if he were to insist that she give up teaching? Would that be fair? It was an ongoing debate that neither side could win.
    Tonight, Burke was too tired to engage in such a futile argument.
    He lay back down and stared at the ceiling.
    After a long silence, she said contritely, "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. The disgrace part." There was genuine remorse in her voice, but she didn't touch him. He couldn't remember when they'd last touched each other in anything more than a perfunctory way. Not since the night Kev died. Maybe even before then. No, definitely long before then.
    He turned his head toward her and said softly, "Forget it, Barbara. It doesn't matter."
    Although years of chronic discontent had etched lines into her face, she remained a very attractive woman. Teaching physical education at a public middle school had kept her figure slender and supple. In fact his coworkers often dropped envious, if lewd, comments about her figure.
    They all thought he was one lucky son of a bitch to have Barbara in his bed every night.
    Sadly, Burke couldn't recall the last time they'd done anything in bed except sleep. During the months leading up to the trial, his fractured emotions and heavy workload hadn't left him with the energy even to think about sex. Responding to his moodiness, Barbara hadn't initiated it either.
    But now Bardo's trial was over. The issue was history. Kev had died, but Burke hadn't. It was time he began living again. Sex would be rejuvenating. It might make him appreciate that he hadn't been entombed along with Kev.
    A woman's softness had healing properties. Her body could provide a man not only physical relief, but surcease from spiritual conflict.
    Suddenly, Burke yearned for that sense of peace. He was desperate for a few minutes of sweet oblivion. He craved intimacy with something besides suffocating guilt and bitter regret.
    Curving his hand around the back of Barbara's neck, he drew her head down for a kiss. She didn't overtly resist, but he felt a tension there, and it wasn't the good kind. He rationalized her lack of enthusiasm. It had been a long time since they'd made love, and he cautioned himself to take his time and not to rush it. Each of them needed a slow and steady warm-up, an easy adjustment, a period of familiarization. Or maybe she was simply being coy. Maybe their lengthy abstinence had damaged her ego and she wanted to be wooed.
    He deepened their kiss in the hope of sparking her