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shift. Especially after
a night as eventful as tonight.
    But this time, something pulled at
him, making him want to turn back toward Cassie's, toward something he didn't
want to face. It had been years since he’d felt that kind of pull. The
department shrink had warned him he was treading on thin ice thinking he could
handle the stresses of his job without it affecting him. But Jake wasn’t giving
in. Not this time.
    He said he'd call her if he had any
questions. Part of him searched his mind for a reason to make that call. But
the only thing Jake came up with was that he wanted to see Cassie again.
    # # #
     
    Chapter Three
     
    That couldn't possibly be the door,
Cassie groaned silently as she lifted her heavy head from the pillow. Her head
was still hammering and her sense of time had shifted somewhat. But she could
swear she'd just crawled into bed moments ago.
    If this is Maureen …
    Whoever felt the need to assault her
door at—she focused on her brass wind up alarm clock on the nightstand—9:30 AM,
was at it again. She dropped her feet to the carpet with all the heaviness
fatigue had left her with, wondering how she could have managed to sleep a
total of three hours and not feel like she'd slept at all.
    When Jake had dropped her off at her
apartment last night and she’d bolted her apartment door shut, Cassie had
showered to scrub off all the makeup and stink from Rory's. After that, she sat
in her living room with every light in her apartment on, just staring, afraid
of what nightmares would assault her in her sleep. She finally forced herself
to go to bed at 6:30 AM, reasoning that if she woke from a bad dream, at least
she'd wake in the daylight.
    The pounding on the door continued.
Taking the time to throw a short floral cotton bathrobe over her nightshirt,
Cassie glanced through the mini-blinds to the street three floors below. The
night had been replaced with a glorious sunny morning. Jake's empty sports car
sat double-parked outside the entrance where he'd dropped her off last night,
as if he'd never left.
    The ferocious pounding on the door
matched the kind of power she imagined Jake could deliver if provoked. The kind
Cassie had felt last night as his arms wrapped around her and he shielded her
body, pulling her behind the bar to safety when the gunfire broke out.
    “I'll be right there,” she said, and
cleared the sleep from her throat. She drew in a deep breath, pushing her
tangled hair away from her face before yanking the door open. She was met by
Jake's handsome and somewhat scowling expression, mid-knock. He slowly
lowered his fisted hand.
    “You didn't even ask who it was,”
Jake barked.
    “Good morning to you, too.”
    “It could have been anyone here to do
God only knows what.”
    Crossing her arms across her chest,
Cassie replied, “I knew it was you.”
    “How?”
    “I'm psychic.”
    He didn't look convinced, nor did he
appear in the mood for any of her attempt at teasing, and at this hour of the
morning, Cassie didn't care.
    “How did you get into the building
without being announced?” she asked.
    “Perfect timing. I was coming in as
someone was leaving through the front door. I think a crime watch meeting with
your neighbors is way overdue.” Jake stared at her. “Aren't you going to invite
me in?” he asked.
    “Give me a minute, I'm thinking.”
    He spun past her into the living room
as if he hadn't heard her and tossed the morning paper to her cherry coffee
table, already cluttered with reference books she'd dragged home from the
library a few days before.
    “Well, think while you read this. Got
any coffee?”
    “Ah, I'll make some in a minute. Make
yourself at home.”
    She pushed the door closed and padded
barefoot to retrieve the newspaper.
    Jake's heavy sigh had her turning to
him. He looked exhausted, as if he'd had even less sleep than she'd had. The
dark shadow lining his jaw showed he hadn't bothered to shave yet. Normally,
Cassie liked men with a clean-shaven