I went the way of Colorado (it was apropos) and wore jeans, coffee brown, high-heeled boots and a grass green turtleneck sweater with huge cable knitting down the front. I finished this up with my funky, super-long green, raspberry and cornflower-blue stripy scarf and knit cap (because it was colder than Christmas outside).

I had another carload of stuff with me and I was moving into Uncle Tex’s for the time being. I’d been surfing the ‘net to find an apartment in Denver and I had two days fil ed with viewings ahead of me. What was left of my destroyed belongings was being picked up at the end of the week and I had to have somewhere to take it.

The staying-with-Uncle-Tex-gig and my own apartment had not gone down wel with Hank. We’d had several

“conversations” about my apartment. Hank saw no reason for me to have an apartment. He figured we were going to move in together eventual y, why delay it? I dug my heels in, not because I didn’t want to move in with him but mainly because I was stubborn and because I wanted to give him the chance to back out, just in case. Eventual y, we compromised on a six-month lease (kind of, I got the distinct impression Hank wasn’t exactly committed to the compromise, more like giving in so I’d shut up).

The backing out bit was the reason I was nervous. I didn’t mind moving. I’d done it a lot; I was a practiced hand.

Hank and I had only had a week and a half of “normal” after Bil y was caught (though normal had a weird definition in Denver, especial y when it centered around Fortnum’s).

We’d spent the three weeks while I was in Chicago building our relationship over the phone. It was strange to feel something that seemed old and even steady in Denver was new over the phone.

Or, at least, it felt new to me.

Hank didn’t act any differently.

* * * * *

After the big showdown at The Castle, we al partied in Daisy’s kitchen until we’d made a sizeable dent in the food and an even more sizeable dent in the champagne stash.

Mom and Dad stayed the night with Uncle Tex in order to give Hank and I privacy. They’d roared off, al squashed into Tex’s El Camino, while Hank and I stood watching. Hank had put his suit jacket over my shoulders to keep me warm.

When they were out of sight, I turned to Hank. “It’s over,” I said, my voice dripping with happy relief.

Seriously, if I wasn’t in a fancy satin dress, I would have done cartwheels.

His arms slid around me and he rubbed my nose with his. “Let’s get you home.”

I questioned him al the way to his house, finding out the two extra men in black suits were Marcus’s boys. At Marcus’s orders, they’d also been looking for Bil y and reported to Marcus that there was the possibility that Bil y had stopped fol owing me and started to fol ow Annette and Jason. Once Annette and Jason pul ed into the party, they’d seen Bil y circle several times and then, apparently, he found the courage to come in after them. He parked, exited his car, and then disappeared in the woods around The Castle.

Hank, Eddie and the Nightingale Investigation team had already decided that Bil y had declared, during his phone conversation with me, that he was ready to make his move and they weren’t taking any chances. Therefore, Lee had assigned Luke to Roxie Detail as added protection.

Vance was on Bil y’s tail, as were Desmond Harper’s boys, so they al knew he was at The Castle. Everyone was thinking Bil y would never be crazy enough to approach the actual party. They thought he’d wait to catch Hank and I as we left.

Vance caught Luke on the way into the party, warning him Bil y was there.

Coincidental y, at the same time, Marcus was tel ing Hank that Bil y was on the property. They made plans to gather the women and get us to a safe place in the house and then go (what Hank cal ed) hunting.

Bil y walking in had been a surprise. Vance was hanging back and saw Bil y slip in, that’s when he cal ed Lee.

The rest I knew because I was there.

Desmond Harper’s boys had been arrested.

Luke had stitches and had been released.

Hank had a phone cal from Detective Marker right before we left Daisy’s. Detective Marker reported that it was likely Bil y would never use his right hand again. I had to admit, this made me sad, but in a weird, detached, anyone-losing-a-hand-was-sad kind of way.

“One more thing,” I said, when we were in Hank’s living room. We had given Shamus his greeting and Hank had taken his jacket from my shoulders and thrown it over the back of a dining table chair.

He turned to face me. “Yeah?”

“You need to tel me about Shirleen and her nephew Darius. She said some things tonight –”

His hand came out, wrapped around my neck and he pul ed me to him. I put my hands to his chest and tilted my head back to look at him.

“Remember, I told you I knew good people who did bad things?”

I felt my stomach twist.

“Yes,” I said.

“And remember when I told you Jet and I had a conversation about people we both knew, people Jet refers to as ‘gray’?”

I remembered.

He said they ran games, dealt drugs and likely murdered people.

I felt my stomach twist joined by a heart squeeze.

“No,” I breathed.

“Yes,” he said.

I shook my head. I didn’t want to believe that of Shirleen.

I liked her.

“I’l tel you the whole story later,” Hank promised, correctly assessing I’d had enough for one night. He wrapped an arm around me and moved me toward the bedroom.

“I don’t think I want to know,” I told him.

“Then, I won’t tel you the whole story later.” I nodded.

That worked for me.

“Okay,” I said.

We walked through the kitchen.

“Let’s erase the night,” Hank suggested when we neared the bedroom.

My stomach twist eased and my heart started beating again, much faster than its normal rate.

“Okay,” I repeated.

* * * * *

Friday, Hank spent the day at work sorting through my mess with Bil y.

I spent Friday helping out at Fortnum’s and alternately dancing attendance on, running interference with and reassuring my mental stability to Mom and Dad, Annette and Jason, Daisy and a variety of other people who dropped by.

Indy was going to have to hire someone else soon, the crowds were getting fierce (especial y in the mornings) and we were al forced to pitch in to keep up with them.