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from the center of her
chest outward just thinking about it. Men like Jake didn't see the best of the
world. They were as rough around the edges as a man could be.
    Cassie had always played it safe in
her life. It was probably why she'd never married. Most likely why she hadn't
allowed any of the dates she'd had in the last three years to go beyond a mere
sweet kiss goodnight at the door. It was definitely why she didn't write
romance novels. How could she write about something she'd never been any good
at?
    Thoughts of what she could experience
with a man like Jake Santos made her heart race and caused little rivulets of
sweat to trickle down the valley of her chest beneath her dress. She pictured
him as a lover, holding her in those strong arms, turning her inside out with
passion only a man like Jake could unearth.
    “I'm fine. Really,” she said softly.
    He nodded, his blue eyes locking with
hers. When was the last time a man's gaze held such intensity for her? She
couldn't remember.
    “Are you up to looking at a few
photos?”
    She nodded and Jake tossed a few mug
shots to the metal desk.
    Her eyes grazed the small pictures and
immediately zeroed in on one. Her heart pumped furiously. There he was staring
up at her from a two-by-two snap shot. Pointing to the picture, Cassie said,
“This is him. The gunman.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes, it's him.” She'd never forget
that face.
    “What about the driver of the car?”
Jake asked. “Do you remember what he looked like?”
    Cassie thought about it a moment, and
then shook her head. “It all happened too fast. My mind fixated on the gun and
the face of the shooter…” She pointed to the picture Jake had just shown her.
“Do you have him in custody yet?”
    “No, but we're working on it. Between
your description of the car and you IDing the gunman from a picture in our
files, we shouldn't have any trouble nailing him.”
    “Who is he?”
    “His name is Angel Fagnelio. I was
supposed to meet him at Rory's tonight, but he was a no-show. Now I know why.
He'd been dealing with Ritchie, was going to cut me in on it. But the talk on
the street is that Ritchie double-crossed him. We haven't figured out the whole
story yet. We were lucky this time. You're very observant.”
    “That's my job,” she said, feeling
warmth fill her cheeks with his compliment.
    “Anyway, now that you've given a
positive ID we can put out an APB on Fagnelio and bring him in.”
    “What if he finds out I identified
him? What if he sends someone after me?”
    “Your name isn't being released. As
long as you stay put for a few days until we bring him in and get the rest of
the information we need for the DA to bring him to trial, you won't have
anything to worry about. We might even get lucky and gather enough information
so you won't have to testify.”
    “When can I go home?”
    “Now, if you'd like. I'll drive you.”
    Cassie shook her head. “That won't be
necessary.”
    She glanced at the big numbered clock
on the far wall. It said three-thirty. Perfect dream time . “May I use
your phone? The other officer at the scene took my purse with my cell phone in
it.”
    A quick ride to her apartment would
have been wonderful. But Jake Santos was probably as eager to get back to his
own life as she was to get home to hers.
    “Dial 9 for an outside line. I’ll get
your bag.” Jake pulled the phone on his desk closer to her before lumbering
away toward the coffee machine. He hadn't finished his coffee, so Cassie
assumed it was to give her a modicum of privacy.
    As she punched in Maureen's telephone
number from memory, a little devilish grin pulled at her tired cheeks. She
waited three rings before someone picked up.
    “Hello?”
    “Are you awake?” Cassie asked evenly,
trying to keep what little dignity she had left by not out and out blasting
Maureen in front of the entire precinct. “It's me.”
    “Me, who?”
    Cassie ground her teeth. “Cassie
Lang, a.k.a. Cassie Alvarez, a.k.a.