Henri dumped his last pancake onto my foam platter. "Here, Hairboy. I need to cut back on calories and you, my man, need to take in a few more."

I shook my head. "I'm full." At least they hadn't been banana pancakes. My head was hurting a little but I was glad that my fever hadn't reappeared; I was sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Henri gave me a whap on the arm before he got up and headed for the door.

"See you around, Blair. Don't be such a stranger now that you're back in town. And, uh... call me if something doesn't turn up for you, I mean, if you can't get a real job. My great-uncle is part owner of a trucking business and I could maybe check and see if he could use another driver. Once you're not sick anymore, of course. Although I know you could do better. You should be working at a museum or being some kind of cultural know-it-all guy at some big business, not driving a truck for a living."

"Thanks, man. And I'll check back with you if things don't work out for me on the job front. I'm afraid a lot of job possibilities got tanked thanks to the crappy letters Edwards sent out to the places I'd applied to before, when I was still living in Cascade."

"You planning on staying this time?" Henri said it casually, mildly interested in the answer. We'd drifted – no, I had drifted away from my friends at the station, and I hadn't tried to build any new connections after the police one was severed. Henri would enjoy the occasional phone call, the occasional invite to a party or a barbecue, and would reciprocate, if he and his wife decided to add me to the list of people to call for get-togethers. I didn't really expect a lot of social time with them, though, since they were going to be new parents very soon. From what I'd seen with some of my other friends, their focus was going to be on the change in their family, and they naturally would gravitate to spending more time with friends with small children, too, and family members who wanted to get to know the new baby.

"I'll be with Jim. So, yeah. I'll be in Cascade. Hey, call me when the baby's born, okay? Let me know how mom and baby are doing? You, you'll be over the moon, I know. A new life, man. Being parents is going to change everything, wait and see." I smiled at him, and he gave a little wave before he left the breakroom. Really, the breakroom was a little kitchen, with a microwave, and a stove, oven, and refrigerator – and the most important appliance of all, the coffee pot.

I got up and poured myself another cup. It was really crappy coffee and put to shame the reputation Cascade and the West coast had for supplying decent, flavorful brews. There was a reason Simon kept his own caffeine stash and machine in his office. But I'd had lots worse this last year and I felt nostalgic for honest to God lousy cop coffee, victim as it always was to budget cuts.

Megan had headed to the ladies' room after polishing off her pancakes and sausages, asking Henri to keep me company. Guess Henri hadn't realized that what she was really asking was for him to babysit me. Well, I had given Simon my word to stay put, and anyway, I didn't have anywhere to go, not without Jim. It wasn't like I still had my keys to the loft, or even a vehicle to drive, or for that matter, bus money. My wallet and money and star necklace would remain locked up until the tests came back to show that they weren't contaminated by the chemical Bergman had added to my coffee.

I took my coffee mug, which had a cracked handle and had the logo of a Cascade bank on it, back to the table and sat down. I poked at the pancake, but I wasn't interested in finishing it. Everybody I met lately kept wanting to feed me. I knew I'd lost some pounds but I didn't think it made me into a skeleton. Was I giving off waif vibes or something? Crap, that was embarrassing, if I was tripping people's "help the helpless" button. I wasn't helpless. The sooner I got a job the better, to combat any impression people had that I was in need of charity.

Yesterday's paper was lying on the small counter, and I snagged it, removing the help wanted section.

There were some social services jobs listed, several with private non-profit agencies and a few with the state, but I'd applied to all of those places before I'd left town and had been told, after my references were checked, that my services weren't needed.

Thank you, Chancellor Edwards.

I could try for a business-related job, something with marketing and research. I'd given it a shot the last time I'd been job hunting in Cascade, until I'd given up and settled for tending bar and waiting tables at The Meeting Place. I'd run into the same problem with my references as I'd had with the social service jobs, but now maybe I had a chance.

I could call Jack Kelso and brainstorm my options with him. He'd enjoy running a recon on any business I thought might hire me and passing along what he learned. My reference letters shouldn't trigger outright rejection anymore, but I was going to have get things cleared up at Rainier first so that those damning extra letters would stop being sent out. Jack could help me there, too. After what Bergman and Edwards had done, the University would surely accept my grievance and maybe something could be worked out to let me finish my Ph.D. I had tons of data on sensory information and on police culture. I could pull something out of my academic hat.

If I did decide to sue the university, though, for allowing my intellectual property to be distributed without my permission, I'd have to cave if they even hinted they would drag my mother into it . Naomi signing my name to Berkshire Publishing's forms had given Rainier the upper hand in that particular lawsuit, and I couldn't let my mom get into trouble.

The breakroom door opened but it wasn't Megan or Jim who walked in. The detective glanced my way and then dismissed me. He got himself some coffee and settled at the table with the rest of the paper.

"Hi, Michael. How have things been for you? Are you still working in Homicide? You still into doing the crossword?"

He frowned at me. "Why are you here, Sandburg? I thought you'd been limited to public areas of the P.D. Do I need to call some uniforms up here to escort you off the premises?"

I held out my hands. "I'm legit. I'm a witness in a case and I'm supposed to wait here."

He made a sound of disgust, then flipped through the pages of the paper until he came to the crossword section.

Detective Michael Sams and I had been friendly at one time. He'd ask me crossword questions that had him stumped, and we'd finish the puzzle off together.

"Soooo... Sams glared at me and I trailed off, abandoning the effort to make polite small talk.

"Keep your lying trap shut around me, or I'll shut it for you. I'm on my break, and I don't intend to waste any of it on a punk like you."

Okay. Guess I could cross him off my dance card. There'd been a lot of hard feelings about me when it looked like I'd been trying to cash in on Jim's abilities, and then when I said I'd lied about all of that. The news that I had been offered a place at the Academy and pretty much guaranteed a detective's shield had enraged a lot of the P.D. I didn't need my Ph.D to see why – I'd betrayed a closed society, one that had granted me certain privileges, and then I was going to hop, skip, and jump over the usual procedures in order to be given a high status. To most cops that stank of corruption.

Sams considered me a traitor, and the thing was that I couldn't really explain why I wasn't.

It sucked being despised by people I'd liked. I wished that Jim and I could just go home now.

I decided that standing outside in the hallway qualified as staying put.

I washed out my coffee cup and took the want ads with me when I left the breakroom. Megan was down the hall, talking with Joel, and she waved me over.

"Sandy, I'll see you later. Joel needs to re-interview you, and I'm dying to get some sleep. Give me a call later, if you like. I still haven't gotten the juicy details about what possessed you to hook up with Captain Cranky; although, I think his mood seems to be improved since he towed you back to Cascade. And I don't think I mentioned it to you, or maybe Jim did, but I'll be leaving the week before Christmas to go back home."

"For a holiday or for good?" She'd stayed much longer than her original posting had been set up for.

She reached out and smoothed my hair. "For good. My Mum isn't doing so well, and she could use a hand. My brothers are bloody useless when it comes to that sort of thing." She kissed me on the cheek. "You're always welcome to come and visit, both you and that big lug of a boyfriend you've saddled yourself with. And call me when you're done here, if Jim can't get away. You can get some sleep at my place."

She walked down the hall and I felt another piece of what had anchored me to Cascade float away. Still. Someday Jim and I could go and see her in Australia. We'd check out different varieties of Australian beer in their native habitat and see if they lived up to their reputations. Hang out on the beach, and man, I'd always wanted to see Ayers Rock.

I'd miss her, though. I felt like I'd had all this time last year to stay in touch and I'd squandered it. God, hindsight is so clear.

Joel said, "C'mon, Blair. Jim's been pulled as the lead detective; Captain Banks wants me to redo all of your interviews so that during the trial Bergman's lawyers can't get the evidence thrown out because of the relationship between you and Jim."

He put his hand on my arm and started shepherding me toward the elevator.

"Joel?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you cool with Jim and me being more than partners? I mean, this is kind of awkward and if you're not okay, well, okay, but I'd kind of like to know so I don't do anything to make you feel even more not okay. Okay?"

Joel gave a low chuckle. "Blair, you sure can rattle on. But we're okay. My second cousin is gay, and I haven't disowned him. I think we're all God's children and that he doesn't make mistakes. So don't worry. I knew a long time ago that you loved Jim. I didn't know you loved him in a gay way, but who am I to tell people not to love each other in the way that seems best to them. If you have a ceremony or a wedding, I'd be honored to attend."

"Thanks, Joel. I appreciate what you just said. Jim will, too, I know. Where is he, anyway?"

We entered the elevator and Joel hit the button for the third floor, where the interrogation rooms were housed. "Jim's making some follow-up calls and checking with the ADA about the subpoenas to search Bergman's office and residence. Hopefully, we can find something to lead us to that old car of yours. The attempted murder on you is pretty clear-cut, but to make the case really stick for the Edwards murder, we could sure use finding that car. There might even be forensic evidence still. Jim's pretty sure Bergman didn't destroy the car, just hid it away."

"Bergman's lawyered up, right?"

"Yes. I really thought Jim had him on the ropes and ready to confess but then he got smart and quit talking. His lawyer should be stopping by sometime this morning. Maybe then Bergman will cut a deal in return for a confession."

"Did he say anything about me? About hiring hit-men to kill me?"

"He shut up before Jim got that information out of him. Hang in there, Blair. It won't be too much longer till you don't have to have police protection. And you won't try to ditch me, will you? I'd really appreciate it if you didn't. The last time you snuck away from me during protective custody it took a long time for me to live down not being able to keep track of one little anthropologist."

Joel was joking, of course. I hoped he was joking. I didn't want to think that I'd set him up for being jeered at when I'd tricked him before and left police protection. "I promise, Joel."

I wasn't going to mention that Jim had handcuffed me, at times even to himself, to keep me from leaving him. Considering that we were lovers now, it might be seen as a kind of sex-bondage kink thing when it had been a purely practical maneuver on Jim's part. At least I didn't think there was anything too kinky about it. Maybe I should check with Jim about that.

We left the elevator and entered a room down the hall, and Joel gestured me to a seat. He started up the recording equipment and then sat down across from me.

"State your name, please."

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