Prologue

Dr Laura Hobson looked down at her watch, wondering when the food was going to come. The chief constable had spoken for over an hour-and-a-half and showed no signs of slowing down. The man quite simply loved to hear himself talk, and Hobson knew that this lengthy oration was the entire reason that the party had been planned.

Laura glanced around and noticed that several of her workmates had already fallen victim to the chief constable's somniferous voice. Approximately half of the party guests were sleeping: some peacefully and others fitfully, but all blissfully unaware of their superior officer's droning. Those who were not asleep were distracted in other ways: talking animatedly to their companions or text-messaging under the table. Hathaway was one of the latter group, his fingers dancing across the keys of his mobile as expertly as a concert pianist's as he typed out message after message. Laura absently wondered with whom the sergeant was conversing. Then she noticed that at another table, Adrian Kershaw was mouthing a "Nice one, James" in Hathaway's direction.

Alone of the people in the room, Innocent was still staring at the chief constable, but even her eyes were glassy, suggesting that—at the moment—the chief superintendent was far more concerned about the fact that she hadn't had her dinner than about the fact that the Oxfordshire Police had just apprehended several dangerous criminals.

Hobson turned her head slightly to make a comment to the man sitting beside her before she realized that Detective Inspector Robbie Lewis was among those who had succumbed to their exhaustion. Laura sighed, wondering when her considerable boredom was going to end.

Fortunately, she did not have to wait long. The chief constable eventually realized that he had lost his audience and abruptly ended his speech. He then instructed the servers to bring in the food. Aware that Lewis was probably as hungry as the rest of them, Hobson lightly shook her dozing companion until he awoke.

"Thanks," Robbie said as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Anytime," Laura said, smiling. She wanted to add that she would be there anytime, anyplace, and in any capacity that Robbie Lewis needed her, but she knew that it was a bad idea.

"Were you having a pleasant dream?" she asked.

"Actually, I was."

"What was it about?"

Lewis said nothing but turned a slight shade of pink. Then the servers arrived, bearing baskets of bread, and plates of turkey, green beans, and mashed potatoes. Robbie's eyes lit up at the arrival of the food, and Hobson realized that pressing Lewis about his dream was futile; she'd never get her answer while Robbie had food in front of him.

Lewis ate with great gusto, shovelling forkful after forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth as though they might disappear soon. If it had been anyone else, Laura might've been disgusted. But it wasn't just anyone—it was Robbie, who somehow managed to make an enormous appetite the most endearing thing on the face of the earth. Laura chewed her green beans thoughtfully until Hathaway ended his correspondence with Kershaw and returned his attention to his dining companions.

"That was the single most boring speech in the history of the universe!" the sergeant said emphatically as he cut his slice of turkey into smaller pieces.

"Stop talking like you're an expert. You weren't here for Strange's Christmas address of '91," Lewis replied.

"True," Hathaway said as he took a roll out of the breadbasket and began to butter it, "but I did have to put up with Father Flynn's sermons every Sunday while I was at the seminary. Now, that man could drone! But even Father Flynn looks like Winston-bloody-Churchill next to our chief constable."

"You have such a charming turn of phrase, Sergeant," said a sarcastic voice. Hobson, Hathaway, and Lewis turned their heads to observe DCS Jean Innocent, standing behind them and looking—in Hobson's opinion—far more attractive in a teal cocktail dress than a woman of her age had a right to expect. "I'll pretend I didn't hear the derogatory comment about my immediate superior," Innocent continued.

"Please do. If you were to tell, he'd only start another lecture." Hathaway pompously puffed out his chest and gave a passable impression of the chief constable's nasal tones. "Junior officers should be seen and not heard."

Robbie and Laura laughed outright, and even Jean cracked a smile. "Just keep your own advice in mind when the chief constable makes his rounds," Innocent said. "I don't want to have to put you back in uniform for your cheek."

"Yes, please behave, James. A uniform would do absolutely nothing for your flawless complexion," Laura added, batting her eyes coquettishly at the sergeant.

Laura snuck a look at Robbie to check his reaction. She knew that her flirting with Hathaway made the inspector feel uncomfortable, but she did it anyway—in the hope of someday making Lewis jealous. It had yet to work, and Laura strongly suspected that the reason for that was the woman standing behind them.

"Anyway, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company, ma'am?" Lewis inquired, turning his attention to the chief superintendent.

"The chief constable asked me to bring him a roll. Apparently, the servers forgot to deliver a bread basket to our table."

Robbie's eyes twinkled merrily up at her. "Couldn't the chief constable get the roll for himself?"

"Just between us, Inspector, our 'Fearless Leader' has a bit of a penchant for ordering junior officers about."

"At least, we now know that you get it honestly," Hathaway muttered under his breath. Hobson laughed.

"What was that, Sergeant?" Innocent asked, shooting a withering glance in Hathaway's direction.

"I…er…" James stammered.

"That's what I thought you said," the chief superintendent replied brusquely. She addressed Lewis again. "The other reason that I came to get the roll is that I was hoping to pick up another for myself."

"Here, you can take my bread-plate, Jean," Hobson interjected. "I'm trying to limit my bread intake; carbohydrates are so fattening."

It took a moment for the pathologist's meaning to sink in. Hobson knew that the chief superintendent—like any woman—was quite sensitive about her figure. Laura supposed that it was a bit cruel of herself to torture Jean in this way, but she didn't care. She hated Innocent—if only because the chief superintendent was intelligent, pretty, well-dressed, and a few months younger than Hobson herself.

"Not that either of you need to worry about your weight," said Hathaway, determined to dissolve the current tension.

"Thank you, James," Innocent said, pleasantly.

But it was clear that Laura's words had had an impact on her. When she picked up Hobson's bread plate, she grabbed only one roll from the basket. Then she took her leave of them. Robbie sat up in his chair and watched the chief super go back to her seat, the slightly dazed expression on his face leaving little doubt in Hobson's mind that the inspector's earlier "pleasant dream" had been about his female superior officer.

Then, Lewis turned his attention to Hobson. "I realize that you women are always worrying about staying trim, but you should think about making an exception. This bread is fantastic! Not as good as me mum's but… still, excellent."

Laura smiled. Robbie really had no idea just how adorable he was: encouraging her to eat and complimenting his mother's cooking.

" Alright, I'll try one," Hobson said, taking a roll out of the basket and placing it on her dinner plate—since her bread plate was long gone. She broke the bread and placed a small piece in her mouth.

"Well?" Lewis asked once she'd finished chewing.

"Delicious—just as you said."

"You should know by now that I'd never steer you wrong, Laura."

"I do know."

And she did. Robbie had been more than a colleague for several years now; he'd been a trusted confidante and her closest friend. And he'd been more than that as well. Hobson knew that she was in love with him. There was no reason to deny it anymore, save the most obvious reason of all—that her affections were unreturned. And yet, somehow, Laura refused to give up hope. Deep down in her heart, Dr Laura Hobson was totally convinced that she and DI Robbie Lewis were soul mates. If only he wasn't so obviously interested in Jean!

Ten Minutes Later

Robbie Lewis snuck a look at the woman beside him. He wondered vaguely if Laura knew what a pretty smile she had. He wished he had the courage to tell her.

Laura's smile was far from the only thing that Lewis liked about her. She was so smart, witty, attractive, and funny. But of course, Lewis could never tell Laura any of this; he wasn't willing to risk their friendship—seeing that it was clear she didn't feel the same way.

Instead he had to content himself with the relationship that they currently had. He knew that he was extraordinarily lucky to have a friend like Laura. How many other people would have woken him up after he'd embarrassingly fallen asleep during the chief constable's speech? Even Hathaway had been far too concerned with continuing a text-message conversation to think of lending a helping hand to his inspector.

Robbie had felt his cheeks flush when Hobson had inquired about his dream. He hoped that the pathologist hadn't been able to work out that it was she that he'd been dreaming about. That would've ruined everything.

He glanced back at Laura again. Hobson was fully engrossed in a story that Hathaway was telling about his seminary days. She kept laughing and placing her hand on Hathaway's arm whenever the sergeant said something particularly hilarious. Lewis was aware of a strange feeling rising in him and instinctively knew that it was envy. He suddenly wished that he were young and tall and blond and charming so that Laura might laugh at his jokes the way she laughed at James's. Robbie stared back down at his plate and moved his food around with his fork.

Once he'd realized that he didn't stand a chance with Laura, Lewis had tried to forget his feelings for her. All of his attempts had failed miserably. In spite of everything, DI Robbie Lewis was still convinced that he and Dr Laura Hobson were soul mates. If only she wasn't so obviously interested in James!

"James, could I have a quick word?" said a new voice.

Robbie looked up and saw that the chief super had re-joined them. He barely spared her a second glance. Lewis knew that most of the men at the station—young and old, eligible and not-so- eligible alike—were half-mad with lust for Innocent, but Lewis himself had never felt any real attraction to her. He supposed that the chief superintendent was fairly pretty—as women went. Certainly, she was much easier on the eyes than her predecessor had been, and she smelled like orchids, a welcome change from Strange's oh-so-enticing fragrance of prune juice and tobacco. Yet, Innocent's many charms had never had much of an impact on Lewis; he was far too enamoured of Laura to think of another woman—particularly one who was married and his boss.

As Innocent and James left the table, Robbie noticed Laura was staring at Jean with an expression of pure loathing.

What was that about?

Five Minutes Later

"So, why exactly do you need to speak to me?" Hathaway asked Innocent as they began their third turn about the room. "If it's to lecture me on my earlier cheek, I can only warn you that I probably won't listen."

"Actually, I don't need to speak to you at all. I just thought that if we left them," Innocent gestured at Lewis and Hobson, "alone for long enough, they might act upon their obvious attraction to each other."

James looked at the chief superintendent for a moment, astounded that she had been perceptive enough to pick up on Laura's and Robbie's concealed feelings.

Innocent must have sensed his surprise for she let out a brief, mocking laugh. "Oh please! Do you think I'm blind? It's completely obvious to everyone."

"Except them," Hathaway pointed out.

"True. It's a pity, though. They would be a very sweet couple."

"Yes they would be, but leaving them alone isn't going to get them together. Believe me, I've tried that approach several times, and it's never worked."

"What on Earth is keeping them apart?"

Hathaway had never expressed his theory before, but as Innocent seemed willing to listen, he decided to share his opinion. "Oddly enough, I think it's us."

"Us?" the chief superintendent inquired. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Whenever Dr Hobson compliments me, Inspector Lewis sulks for the next hour."

"So Lewis thinks that you and Dr Hobson…?"

"Apparently so."

"Are you?"

"Of course not!" he said, genuinely upset until he glanced over at Jean and realized that she had been teasing.

The two slowed their pace for a moment before Innocent spoke again.

"So where exactly do I fit into this theory?"

"Well," Hathaway hesitated, unsure of how to put this in a way that would not completely offend Jean. "Have you ever noticed that whenever you enter a room, Laura looks as though she wants to throw something?"

"I have noticed, now that you mention it. So, Hobson thinks I'm out to ensnare Lewis—does she? I suppose the fact that I'm married counts for absolutely nothing."

Hathaway smiled wryly. "It might count for a bit more if Mr Innocent played a more active role in your life. People are beginning to doubt of his existence."

"So am I," Innocent muttered absently, sighing and staring off blankly into space for a moment. Then she looked back at Hathaway, and seemed to revive some of her high spirits. "You know, James. It's too bad that we're not a couple; that might scare Lewis and Hobson into getting together."

She had meant it as a joke, but she then noticed Hathaway was staring at her as though he had never seen her before. She rushed to clarify.

"James," Innocent said carefully. "You do know I'm not serious—don't you? You understand that I'm married, your superior officer, and roughly ten years your senior?"

"Of course, I do ma'am. It's just… you've given me a very interesting idea. A very interesting idea that just might solve Lewis's and Hobson's problem."

"Are you going to share this 'very interesting idea'?"

"Yes…er…no… I mean… yes, eventually. But not here. I am going to need your help to pull this off. But we're going to need a more secluded place to discuss…"

"I can grant you a private audience in my office tomorrow morning."

"Perfect. Thank you, ma'am."

"You're welcome, James. I'm interested to see what you have in mind."

The two parted ways and returned to their seats to enjoy the rest of their meal.