Duke presented Audrey with coffee, a corn muffin with craisins, a banana, and an orange.

"No cupcakes," he said sternly before she could even ask. "Now, after they give you a clean bill of health, you'll come back home with me. You can throw your clothes in the washing machine since the water in the bay isn't exactly pristine. I'll make lunch, I'm thinking lobster salad and roasted vegetables." At Audrey's surprised face, he added, "Remember, we're in Maine. Lobster isn't anything special. And after lunch, we'll see how you're feeling."

"After lunch you can give me a list of locations where my fugitive might be hiding that Nathan might not know about," Audrey said, taking a bit of the muffin.

Duke sat down. "Ah, no. I don't talk to cops. I can take you to some of those spots myself but Nathan is not invited."

"You can't come along, you're a civilian."

"I have a gun and I know how to use it."

Audrey mulled it over. "I suppose a confidential informant is supposed to be confidential even from other officers."

"Exactly," Duke said triumphantly.

Back at the Cape Rouge, Audrey was glad to get out of her clothes, which did have a grimy feel. She put them in the machine machine and took a shower. When she got out, she was surprised to find herself comfortable in Duke's clothing: a t-shirt, boxer shorts, a robe, and even his socks. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this comfortable around a man, period. Was it just because he was being so nice to her? Was it because he'd saved her life? Audrey was also concerned that he was nice-guying her. She needed to know the truth.

Audrey went into the kitchen to find Duke dicing vegetables.

"Can I help with anything?" she offered.

"I'm good, thanks," Duke responded absently. "Everything will be ready in about fifteen minutes."

He put seasoning on the veggies and slid the pan into the oven. After setting the timer, he sat down at the table with Audrey.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm okay," Audrey said. "Listen . . . I know this is an awkward thing to ask, but I have to know. Are you nice-guying me?"

"Not at all. I don't play games. If I wanted to sleep with a woman who was, say, in my kitchen, I would go up to her—" Duke stood up and walked over to Audrey. He bent over slightly so his mouth was near her ear. "—and whisper, 'I'm having lobster for lunch and I'm eating you for dessert.' "

Audrey blinked hard. "Does that work?"

Duke went back to his seat. "Often," he said. "You just have to know how to read the room."

"How— how does the room read now?" Audrey said.

"I don't know. You're in a vulnerable place and I don't want to take advantage. I saved your life, Audrey, and now I feel responsible for you. I want you to be okay and I'm not sure that a brief fling with me while you're on an FBI case would be helpful."

"I mentioned I was thinking of quitting the bureau, right?"

"Yeah, but you can't do that for me. I can't make any promises. I find you attractive and intriguing, but we just met. Maybe you'll turn out to be a harpy."

"And maybe you'll turn out to be an asshole," Audrey countered.

"Oh, no, that's impossible. I'm wonderful," Duke declared.

Audrey couldn't help but laugh. He obviously didn't mean it. Her thoughts wandered to Nathan Wuornos and she mentally catalogued their similarities and their differences. They both seemed like people who helped. Nathan would have sat by her bed all night too, Audrey was sure of it. She suspected that Nathan and Duke both had troubled childhoods, but Nathan dealt with his feelings by suppressing them until they came out in unhealthy ways, while Duke had gained some measure of inner peace through Buddhism.

Nathan was a cop. Duke was a crook. Allegedly. She'd have to look up his rap sheet when she got back to her motel room. It was legal for her to do that if he was going to be her confidential informant, not so legal if he was going to be her boyfriend. Considering he took the Fifth when she'd mentioned it before, it was likely he didn't have any convictions. Hopefully he didn't have any arrests either. Dating him would be ethically shaky, but if she quit the FBI and went to work for a small time police department, it was more likely that they'd be understanding.

Audrey got up and stood in front of Duke. "And what if I want to know what's at stake?" she said, and kissed him.

It was a sweet kiss, but brief because Duke practically pushed her away.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said quietly.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to be something you regret when you go back home."

"Why would I regret you?"

"Because I'm not who you think I am. I'm not an asshole, but I'm hardly perfect. You just haven't seen the part of me that you don't like yet."

"And what's that?"

Duke hesitated, then said, "Haven't you noticed that I joke around a lot? Well, I do it all the time. I've been accused of being a fumdamentally unserious person."

"Like you've been accused of being unreliable. And we know that's not true."

"That's different. This was said by someone who knew me very well."

"And was he right?"

". . . she. Of course not she wasn't, but that doesn't mean my jokes can't be exhausting at times. Which is not to say I'm planning on changing."

Audrey laughed. "Maybe I have a grim job and coming home to humor would be a better way of coping than coffee and cupcakes."

Duke looked pained. "Let's at least have lunch first." The timer went off and he smiled. "Saved by the bell."

Audrey smiled slyly. "Sure. You mentioned something about dessert, didn't you?"

Duke experienced something quite involuntary.

An hour later they were in bed and Audrey was thinking: I could get used to this.

Three years later they were standing outside the Barn.