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the folder when you crawled out of the air duct." He rubbed the back of his neck with a quiet sigh. "Ryan, if word got out where you were . . . "
    Ryan rubbed his hand over his scorched jacket and shook his head. Officially, he and Amanda had to have climbed out a window. No one could know he'd been in the secure file room. McLelas credibility was on the line. Even wealthy civilians couldn't explain away a rummage through the precinct's sealed and cold cases, and a cover-up would mean piling new sins of bribery on top of the original one.
    Lesson learned: Responsibility was fucking complicated.
    "Soon as he's good, I'll take him home. Don't let him up," Jay said to an EMT who promptly retrieved a blood pressure cuff. Both men exchanged a conspiratorial smirk and Ryan groaned.
    At least Amanda had been released from the clutches of her caretakers. Her oxygen mask was off and Ryan watched her shrug out from under the blanket; the bright, coarse fabric balling in her hands. Impatience tugged at him. If he could disentangle himself from his brother and the EMT now prodding his arm, he could catch her before she left. To what end, he wasn't sure. Asking her out to dinner would get him laughed out of the parking lot. Sentiment was a waste of breath and she wouldn't know any more than he about the explosion until investigators sifted through the precinct. For the second time since he'd met her in that dark alley, Ryan had no idea what to say.
    Lieutenant Dale stomped into his peripheral vision and toward Amanda with a scowl, dragging a paramedic and two officers behind him. "Detective, take that off and you get strapped to a table. I'm not above sending you to the hospital overnight."
    Ryan grinned. So, he wasn't the only one being bullied back to health.
    Lieutenant Dale did an about-face and Ryan jerked to attention. It was obvious he'd be the next target and with the man's forehead furrowed so deeply, he didn't expect a pleasant conversation. Jay and Ryan's EMT disappeared, leaving him to the lieutenant's whim. Ryan started to slide from back of the ambulance.
    "Don't. You're as bad as she is." The lieutenant let out an exasperated sigh as he propped a foot on the bumper. "Sit."
    Ryan leaned back on his elbows.
    "She's like a daughter to me, McLelas." Lieutenant Dale cut himself off. He gave him a long look, unblinking. "If you hadn't found a way out — "
    Ryan waved off the implied gratitude and slid the mask down his nose. "Lucky we were in that room when the explosion happened."
    A muscle ticked in the other man's jaw. "Should have been the safest place in the building."
    Something in his tone caught Ryan's ears. Knowing. Before he could dig, they both spotted News 9's lead anchor picking her way around uniformed officers. Lieutenant Dale sighed and Ryan shoved the mask over his face, hoping to deter her from an impromptu interview. He'd have preferred not to be noticed on the scene, but such was the price of fame.
    She brazenly shoved her microphone in their direction and gestured over her shoulder for the camerawoman at her back to start filming. "Can we get a statement, Lieutenant?"
    "No comment." The lieutenant put his hand over the lens of the camera and lowered the device off the camerawoman's shoulder. "Sorry, ladies. Your viewers will have to wait with the rest of the city. I'm sure the other department heads will give you the same story: Press conference. Seven o'clock tonight. The investigators haven't gone through the door. If we know something before then, we'll let you know . . . at seven."
    Both women glared at him, but the lieutenant was unmoved. Ryan suppressed a sigh and reached for his oxygen mask. His turn. But to his surprise, the microphone yanked away. They stomped off, toothpick heels steady on the uneven blacktop, leaving him staring after them with his mouth open.
    No interview? Ryan rubbed at his ears in agitation. The press couldn't always follow him around — gas at twenty a gallon was too