Grace woke with a start, heart pounding as her nightmare left her. It was a nightmare she'd had countless times before; Boyd had been shot and she stood frozen to the spot, unable to move even the smallest muscle, watching as his life drained away. Despite knowing exactly what caused the nightmare, it still left her shaken each time. As she pushed the image of Boyd bleeding to death away from her, Grace remembered that their current situation wasn't much better and she felt a wave of misery going through her. Exerting ruthless self-control, Grace held back the tears that wanted to fall and reminded herself that Boyd, at least, was almost certain to survive.

Boyd felt Grace jerk in his arms, almost flailing, and he reluctantly loosened his hold on her. He waited for her to speak but after a few seconds he realised that her breathing was jerky and uneven, as if she were about to cry. Without thinking about it, Boyd pulled Grace close and began rubbing her back soothingly, saying,

'It's all right, Grace. You're safe. I won't let anyone hurt you.'

The tenderness in Boyd's voice cut through Grace's misery and her brain whirled as she put the pieces together and she realised that she'd been completely blind. Curled up in Boyd's arms, Grace, for the first time, allowed herself to believe that what she wanted might actually be a possibility.

Frankie paused in her headlong flight to grab DCI Smith and Spence, saying,

'We need as many witnesses as possible so the defence can't claim I planted it.'

'Planted what?' asked Spence.

'Whatever Boyd put in the boot of his car.'

'But Boyd didn't put anything in the boot of his car,' said Smith, 'Forensics didn't find anything that shouldn't be there.'

'That's because they didn't look in the right place,' said Frankie, pulling on a pair of latex gloves as she walked.

'So where is the right place?' said Spence.

'Guess,' said Frankie.

'Frankie!'

Spence's irritation just amused Frankie, who said,

'What did they find loose in the boot of Boyd's car?'

'Just the usual sorts of things: screenwash, umbrella, his overnight kit, his kevlar vest...'

'And?'

Spence frowned and Smith cast her mind back to the hastily read report, trying to remember what Jordan had forgotten. Hesitantly, she said,

'Wasn't there a tool of some sort? A spanner?'

'Exactly.'

They had reached the evidence garage so Frankie broke off to talk to the technicians briefly. Having had her suspicions confirmed, Frankie let one of the techs lead them to the car, saying,

'The spanner had been removed from the tool kit, which in Boyd's car is kept in a special compartment built into the side of the boot.'

The technician opened the boot of Boyd's car and Frankie reached in and pulled the tool compartment open. Inside, held down by the jack, was a piece of paper. Very carefully, Frankie lifted up the jack and took it out, holding it so they could all see it. Written in Boyd's distinctive handwriting, it said,

"Dr Grace Foley and I were kidnapped at gunpoint by Jason Evans today."

The note was signed and dated by Boyd. Spence and Frankie felt a cold chill go through them as they read it but DCI Smith felt nothing but exultation at catching a killer. Smiling tightly, she said,

'Got the bastard!'

Grace lay thinking for a long time. Thinking about how gentle and caring Boyd always was with her when they were alone together. Well, except when they were arguing, of course. She suspected that they would always argue, no matter how long they knew each other; it was part of their dynamic and essential for keeping the balance in their relationship. Recently, though, the arguments had become less vicious. She had put it down to him feeling happier but it seemed that there was another reason. So what should she do about it? Grace had reluctantly accepted some time ago that her wayward heart was Boyd's and that there wasn't anything that she could do about it. She had decided that self preservation required her to keep silent since she'd always assumed that Boyd's reaction to a declaration from her would be smug amusement, stunned disgust or, worst of all, to have pity sex with her. Ruefully accepting that her people reading skills had completely let her down, Grace tried to decide whether or not to make a move.

DCI Smith strode back into the squad room and said,

'Doctor Wharton, please show the team what you've found. Jordan, with me; let's charge the bastard.'

She didn't pause to see if she was being obeyed but continued straight on to the interview room with Spence eagerly following. Once they were inside, facing Jason Evans, Smith nodded at Spence, who said,

'Jason Evans, I am arresting you on suspicion of the kidnap and false imprisonment of Doctor Grace Foley and Superintendent Peter Boyd. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you fail to mention something which you later rely on in court...'

After some considerable time, Grace had decided to make a verbal approach first. For one thing she was very aware that she hadn't been able to wash or brush her teeth for far longer than she considered remotely acceptable and that their 'bed' was horribly uncomfortable so even if Boyd were receptive, he might prefer to wait until they were clean and comfortable. And for another, having a verbal approach rejected is far less embarrassing than touching someone intimately and having them recoil in horror. Taking a deep breath, she said,

'Would you turn the light on, please.'

Boyd reached up and flicked the switch, saying,

'Need to visit the buckets?'

'No...I need to talk to you.'

'What about?' said Boyd, warily, wondering what he'd done wrong now.

Grace smiled wryly and said,

'It's all right, Peter, I'm not going to tell you off.'

'Thank god for that. So what do you want to talk about?'

Grace pulled herself away from Boyd and sat up, turning so that she could look into his eyes. Bracing herself for rejection, she said,

'Us, I want to talk about us.'

'Us? Why?'

Boyd's expression was, if anything, even warier than when he'd thought he was going to be told off and Grace would have smiled if she hadn't been so nervous. Gripping her hands together, she said,

'I want to talk about our relationship.'

'Our relationship? What relationship?'

Boyd's expression was now somewhere between baffled and alarmed and Grace inwardly cursed herself for failing to get to the point. Taking another deep breath, she said,

'Well, that's the point really.'

'What? Grace, what are you talking about?'

'I...I want to have a relationship with you. I'm in love with you.'

Boyd's mouth dropped open slightly as he looked at Grace in stunned silence.

Jason Evans had paled when they charged him and Smith had gone in for the kill. Despite the seriousness of the charges, Evans had declined a solicitor so Smith had immediately started pressing him for answers,

'We know you kidnapped them, Jason. Where are they?'

'I didn't kidnap them.'

'We have proof, Evans! Now where are they?'

Jason went even paler but stuck to his guns,

'You're wrong. I didn't do it.'

'You did, Jason. And do you know how we know? Superintendent Boyd left a note in the boot of his car. Tell us where they are and things will go better for you.'

Jason looked down at the table for a few seconds and when he looked back up all of the fear was gone from his face. Blandly indifferent, he said,

'No.'

Boyd stared at Grace for a long time, a dumbfounded expression on his face then suddenly laughed, saying,

'Of course; I'm dreaming.'

Exasperated, Grace pinched his upper arm hard.

'Ow! Bloody hell, Grace!'

'Still think you're dreaming?'

'No.'

'Well?'

'Well what?'

'I've just told you that I'm in love with you; I was expecting a response of some sort.'

'Fair enough.'

Before Grace had time to wonder what he meant by that, Boyd had pulled her towards him and was kissing her.