In a matter of minutes, the place was crawling with cops from the Point Pleasant Police Department. I gave my statement to a uniformed officer while I was being treated by a medic, and then waited in the passenger seat of Ranger's SUV while Ranger talked to Tank. There was a tap on my window and I pressed the button to lower it.

Morelli leaned against the door, his features illuminated by the flashing lights of the cop cars. "I came as soon as I got the call," he said. His mouth was tight and his voice steady, but I could see the concern in his eyes. "What happened?"

I filled him in on most of the particulars. I had left out the part about the breaking and entering I'd done earlier that day when I gave my statement to the police. Morelli would know better, so I filled him in on that, too. When I was done, he hung his head low and ran a hand through his hair.

He looked me over, taking in my lack of clothing and the cigarette burn on my thigh, and his face drained of its remaining color. "You weren't... He didn't..."

My stomach clenched. Morelli was asking if I had been raped. Probably I would've been, too, had I not gotten away when I did.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "He didn't."

Morelli let out a sigh of relief and smoothed away the worry lines on his forehead with his palm. "Thank god," he said.

The doors to the house opened and Warner was led out on a stretcher by a couple of paramedics. Morelli and I watched as he was loaded into the ambulance.

"Is he going to make it?" I asked Morelli.

In all honesty, I didn't care if he lived or not. Morelli shrugged. "Don't know," he said. I could tell by his tone that he didn't care all that much, either.

The corners of Morelli's mouth twitched and he turned his eyes back on mine. "Is it true you beat him with a shovel?"

"I don't know. I never saw it, whatever it was. Shovel seems about right."

Morelli smiled and leaned into the cab, sifting a lock of hair through his fingers. I leaned into his touch and our eyes locked. I felt a warm shiver race up and down my spine. I knew that look. It was the look he always gets when I end up almost dead at the hands of a homicidal maniac. The look that told me everything Morelli wanted to say, but wouldn't.

I opened my mouth to say something, but stopped short when the little hairs on my neck stood on end. My eyes shifted over Morelli's shoulder. Ranger was standing beside the steps which led to the porch. He was listening to Tank, but his eyes were pointed on mine. My blood ran cold for a second or two. Then it began to boil, making my cheeks flush even though it was below freezing outside.

Morelli noticed this and turned his head to follow my gaze. He scoffed in Ranger's direction and turned back to me, tilting my chin so that my focus was back on him.

"I think that's my cue to leave," he said. "Promise me you'll be careful."

He gave me a meaningful stare, and I knew he was talking about Ranger. He slipped his hand behind my neck and pulled me forward, brushing his lips lightly against mine. Then he turned, nodded once in Ranger's direction, and walked away.

Ranger finished up with Tank and slid behind the wheel of the SUV. Neither of us said a word on the way back to the office. He parked in one of the slots on the far wall and guided me to the elevator with his hand protectively at my back. We got off at the seventh floor and he steered me into the bedroom.

"Sit down," he said, motioning to the bed. I took a seat on the edge and looked down at my feet. I was still in Ranger's coat and not much else. My body ached. My knees were raw. And ugly black-blue bruises had begun to form in various places. I folded my hands in my lap and noticed they were still caked with dried blood from where the handcuffs had cut into the skin on my wrists.

Ranger came back into the room a few minutes later with some towels, bandages, and antiseptic. I kept my head down, staring at the hem of his coat. He pressed something cold against the left side of my face and I flinched. He knelt down in front of me and his eyes softened.

"Hold it there," he said, placing my hand on the ice pack. "It will help with the swelling."

I nodded my head a fraction of an inch and diverted my eyes back to my lap. Tears were starting to well up again. I was embarrassed and ashamed. This whole thing had been my fault. I had been careless and put myself in danger. And I couldn't even remember why. Probably it was to prove something, though I couldn't recall what that something was.

I started to speak and felt the first splash of warmth on my cheek. "I thought I was going to die," I said.

Ranger was quiet for a moment. He took my free hand and wiped away the blood with a warm washcloth. "So did I."

He bandaged one wrist and then the other, and then washed the blood away from my knees. He took in the screaming red welt on my left thigh and his face went blank. He turned his eyes on me once more.

"I'm used to a certain level of respect from my employees. I tell them to do something and they do it. I knew when I hired you that you would be the exception to that rule. But I can't allow this kind of behavior to go unchecked. It sets a bad example and it undermines my authority. If one of my men had pulled a stunt like that, they would be facing a month-long stay in St. Francis." He lifted my chin so that we were eye level before adding, "But you are not one of my men. And you're no longer one of my employees."

I stared at him, incredulous for a moment, trying to simmer up some sort of anger or resentment, but couldn't find any. I was getting off easy. And I knew it.

"You can keep the pay out from Warner's bond. You can keep your gun. And you can keep the key to my apartment."

"I'm s-" I started, but Ranger cut me off by pressing two fingers tenderly to my lips.

"Get some rest," he said. "We'll talk about this later."

I woke up late the next morning and lay in bed a while before attempting to get up. My head felt heavy and lopsided. I eased a hand to my face and found out why. A large lump had formed on my cheek. I sat up and turned looked around. Ranger's side of the bed was still perfect. I padded into the bathroom, ignoring the sliding feeling in my gut. Then I did the shower thing and the hair thing, and chanced a peek in the mirror. Any illusions I'd had at being able to cover up the bruising were dashed. A big monster of a bruise ran down the left side of my face, while I couple of smaller ones rested on the right. My bottom lip was swollen and cut. Two purple handprints rested just north of my thorax.

I dressed in a black turtleneck and pulled on a pair of black jeans from the drawer on the far side of Ranger's closet. I had to lay flat on the bed to fasten them. Cake might have been therapeutic to my mental health, but it was waging war on my waistline. I pulled one of Ranger's baggy sweatshirts over my head, grabbed my keys, and locked the door behind me. I took the elevator to the underground lot and spotted Big Blue across the lot. The tires had been replaced, and the exterior washed and waxed. I crossed the lot and angled into the front seat. My cell phone was resting on the dash. I dropped it in my messenger bag and pulled out of the lot, toward the Burg.

It was almost noon when I pulled up in front of Tasty Pastry. I ordered the usual-four Boston cream doughnuts, a couple glazed, and a chocolate, with sprinkles-and carried the bag to the car. I was stopped at the curb, digging for one of the Boston creams at the bottom when it happened.

"You!"

My heart stopped. I knew that voice. I dropped the bag of doughnuts, spilling them onto the sidewalk. Then I spun around and came face to face with Morelli's Grandma Bella.

"I knew it," she said, pointing her bony finger in my direction. "I knew you were not good enough for my grandson. In and out of his bed, luring him in with your body but refusing a ring! Ptuy!" She spit on the ground by my feet. "Shame on you! I should put the eye on you!"

Oh, shit. The Eye! "It's not like that. Really. Joe and I-"

"You break my Joseph's heart," she continued. "You are not fit to speak his name! I am giving you the eye!"

All around, people were stopping to stare at the display as Morelli's grandmother fell into a trance. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she started mumbling in Italian. Then, she stopped.

"Omigod."

"I have had a vision," she announced. "You do not deserve the eye."

A collective sigh flowed through the crowd, but it was premature. Grandma Bella wasn't finished.

"In my vision, I saw a child. Your child, with another man. It will be a scandal. Your family will never live it down. He will leave and you will feel the pain you've inflicted upon my grandson. Ha! Ha!"

Grandma Bella cackled a cold laugh and I instinctively clutched my stomach. I spun back to the car, crushing the doughnuts beneath my boots. My hands were shaking so hard I couldn't get the key to fit into the lock. Finally, I pushed it in, turned it, and crawled across to the driver's side. Then I cranked the engine and pealed out onto Hamilton Avenue.

I flipped open my cell phone and punched in Morelli's number.

"Make her take it back," I said.

"What?"

"The eye! She gave me the eye!"

Morelli was booming with laughter in the background.

"It's not funny!" I yelled into the phone.

"There's no such thing as the eye," he said, his laughter calmed, but still present. "But I'll talk to her, see if I can't get her to leave you alone for a while. You had lunch?"

"No. I'm on my way to pick up the body receipt from last night."

"I'll meet you out front in ten."

We ordered a couple meatball subs at a hole-in-the-wall deli near the Trenton cop-shop, and secured a booth in the back. I took a bite and washed it down with some water. Morelli was staring at me.

"Uh-oh," I said. "I feel one of those conversations coming on."

Morelli sighed. "We need to have a talk, cupcake."

I swallowed and put my sub back down on the plate, my appetite fading.

"What's going on with you and Ranger?"

Beats the hell out of me. "He fired me."

Morelli raised his eyebrow a fraction of an inch. "Can you blame him?"

"Not really."

Morelli was quiet for a moment. "And the other?"

I shrugged. I didn't know the answer to that question. Morelli got the point, and sucked in some air.

"I need a break," he said. "I can't keep going back and forth like this. I've made my position clear. I don't like your job and I don't like you working with Ranger. But I can't shake the feeling that the real reason we're not going anywhere is because you can't make up your mind."

He was right. I knew he was right. I hated when that happened.

I stared at my sub and picked at a few potato chips. Not all that long ago, the situations had been reversed. When Morelli and I first got together, I had been one step away from ordering curtains for his windows and picking out china patterns. At the time, he had told me not to get any ideas. Two years and a failed engagement later, I was the one with cold feet. Huh, I thought. What about that.

I nodded at Morelli. "You're right," I said. "It's not working. I need some time."

"We both do."

"So that's it, then."

Morelli shrugged in an I guess so sort of way. I watched him for a minute, then shook my head.

"That was too easy."

"Yeah," he said. "I thought so, too."

"I could scream a little, if you want. Slam some doors. You could mumble in Italian, or do that thing with your hair."

Morelli grinned. "Maybe later."

I was halfway to the bond office when my cell phone rang. It was Mary Lou. "Meet me at Marsillio's," she said.

I made a right onto Roebling and parked in the lot beside Mary Lou's SUV. Mary Lou was waiting for me at the bar behind a Big Boy margarita. She was beaming.

I arched an eyebrow and approached her. "What are you doing?"

"Celebrating," she said. "I'm not pregnant!"

I pulled up a stool and ordered one for myself. Sure, it was barely noon. But I'd had a long night. And besides, we were celebrating.

"Lenny's mother has the kids until eight, so I went for a blood test this morning. When they told me it was negative, I couldn't believe it. I called Lenny and told him the good news, right before I told him he was getting a vasectomy."

The bartender set my margarita on the bar. I licked some of the salt off the rim and took a drink. "How's he taking it?"

"He took it well, except for the vasectomy part."

My margarita was half gone by the time I'd finished filling her in on Warner. I was feeling warm and gooey inside. Probably having a drink the size of a football first thing in the morning on an almost empty stomach wasn't such a good idea.

"Omigod," she said, taking a sip. "He fired you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"So you two..."

I shrugged. "Don't know."

"You should call him."

"Maybe."

Mary Lou shrugged and took another sip of margarita. "Couldn't hurt."

She had a point. Thing was, I wasn't sure there was anything I could say that would make a difference. And I didn't know why it bothered me so much. So what if I lost my job. Been there, done that. Big whoop. I'd go back to Vinnie's, chasing skips and sleeping in my apartment. Everything would go back to normal. Then again, maybe that was the problem.

Mary Lou handed me my cell phone and said, "Go on."

I reluctantly took the cell phone and carried it to the back, near the restrooms. I took a few breaths to calm my nerves and flipped it open. Then I punched in Ranger's number and waited.

"Yo."

Disconnect.

Oh, shit. What did I just do? I hung up on Batman. I called him and hung up. He hates hang-ups.

My cell phone rang, and I stared at it like it was about to explode. I swallowed once and answered.

"Babe. Did you just-"

Disconnect.

Oh, shit. I did it again! I looked around in a blind panic, not sure what to do. Probably he would call back. Or maybe have me marked for death. Okay, so that was a little extreme. Or was it?

I turned my phone off, secured it at my hip, and went back to the bar. Mary Lou was watching me expectantly. "So-o-o?"

"Voicemail," I lied.

Mary Lou looked pained.

"It's alright," I said. "I left him a message. Thanks. I feel better now. A lot better. I'm sure it's fine."

I told Mary Lou about my encounter with Grandma Bella. By the time I had finished, I was slurping the last of my margarita from the bottom. Mary Lou's looked like it had hardly been touched.

"Omigod," said Mary Lou. "She really put the eye on you?"

I shook my head. "No," I slurred. "She had a vision and called it off. She said I would end up pregnant and alone. And miserable. We can't forget that. That's the most important part. I'm going to be miserabibble."

I tilted my glass and looked inside. It was mostly ice now, but I drank it anyway.

Mary Lou was quiet for a moment. "You don't think..."

I rolled my eyes and started laughing. Me? Pregnant? Yeah, right.

Mary Lou plucked my margarita off the bar, and hid it behind hers. A lot of good that would do, considering it was empty. "This isn't funny, Steph."

The gears in my head started clicking and my laughter died away. She was right. It wasn't funny. It was the antithesis of funny. It was terrifying.

I closed my eyes for a second and told myself to chill. Probably Morelli was right. There was no such thing as the eye. Most of Grandma Bella's visions had me either knocked up or dead. Sometimes both. And besides, I'd already taken a test.

"Omigod," I said, suddenly more sober than I'd been all day. "The test strip. Was it on the right or the left?"

"The right. I think."

"You think?"

"I can't remember," Mary Lou admitted. "I just grabbed them both and assumed..."

I couldn't hear the rest of Mary Lou's sentence for all the clanging in my head.

"Let's get out of here," Mary Lou said, taking me by the elbow. She dropped a twenty on the bar and led me into the parking lot. I climbed in the passenger seat of her SUV and held my head between my legs.

"Don't panic," she said, buckling her seatbelt and starting the engine. "It's probably just a false alarm. I mean, you used protection, right? How long has it been since your last period?"

"I'm late," I said.

Mary Lou gulped audibly and pulled out onto Hamilton Avenue. "Okay. Here's what we're going to do. We're going to buy a test and go back to my house. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."

I nodded and sank back into the seat. Something in the side mirror caught my eye. A black SUV pulled behind us three car lengths away.

"Shit." Mary Lou gave me a questioning look and I turned on my cell phone. I dialed Ranger.

"Tell your goons to get off me."

"Tank won't appreciate you calling him a goon," said Ranger. "Did you need something earlier?"

Maybe a lobotomy. "No."

Ranger disconnected and I checked the side mirror. I couldn't see the black SUV, but I knew it was there. Probably cloaked in an invisibility shield.

Mary Lou pulled into the parking lot outside a small drug store and we sidled out. She was on lookout while I went in for the goods. The door chimed, and I kept my head low, my arms folded across my chest. I was dressed all in black and looked like the poster child for a battered women's shelter. Talk about inconspicuous.

I made my way to the feminine hygiene aisle and shifted my eyes from side to side. My paranoia was getting the best of me. People buy pregnancy tests all the time, I told myself. It's no big deal. Unless you're from the Burg.

I felt a tingle at my neck and jumped, knocking over a row of pregnancy tests, a couple tubes of KY Jelly, and a box of tampons. I bent down to pick them up and saw the black SUV pass by the drug store window. Damn it.

I carried the box to the register, paid with cash, and met Mary Lou outside. She took the bag from me in the car and pulled out a box of super-absorbent tampons.

"Let me guess," she said. "You chickened out."

I sighed and pulled two pregnancy test kits out from underneath the oversized sweatshirt. "I guess you could say that."