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"But there were two. First round hit the gun hand. One shot was the mission. The hand shot was extra." He closed the folder. "Normally these groups don't care about collateral damage if it means their target goes down. For some reason, whoever was up there saw it as important that you walked away unharmed, Captain."

I didn't know how to feel about that. I didn't know how to feel about owing my life to people involved in the very thing that had tormented me my whole life.

"What does that mean?" Janine asked.

"It means I can't say for sure." Westbrook stood up. "But if a group of suspicious men ever ask you for a favor, I trust Captain By-the-book Holloway to inform me immediately."

"I will." I walked him to the door. "Thanks as always, Detective Westbrook."

"Can I see him?"

We both turned. Janine was still at the table, looking down at her hands.

Westbrook paused in the doorway. "He's being booked into the corrections facility this week. Once he's processed, you can request a visit."

Janine nodded.

Westbrook turned back to me. "You still owe me that beer."

I chuckled. "Good night, Detective."

I locked the door behind him. Janine was still at the table, staring at a spot on the surface, her hands around her mug, avoiding my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Alex."

"For what?"

"You were in that building because of me. You had a gun pointed at your chest because of me. Everything Declan did happened because I brought him into your life."

"Janine. Look at me."

She looked up.

"You didn't point a gun at me. Declan did. You didn't lure my crew into that building. Declan did. You were doing your job. I was doing mine. We deal with terrible things every day, and this was one of them." I reached across the table and took her hands. "You are not responsible for what he did."

She didn't smile. She looked down at our hands and I could see her trying to let the words land, trying to let them reach the place where the guilt was sitting.

"Would you mind if I went to see him?"

"Declan?"

"I need to say what I should have said a long time ago. To his face." She looked at me. "I need to close this."

I held her hands. "I'll be right there with you when you do."

The corrections facility was forty minutes outside the city. We went through security together, signed in, waited in a hallway that smelled like floor cleaner, and were led to a visiting room with a table and two chairs on each side.

They brought Declan in a wheelchair. He was thinner than the last time I'd seen him. His right hand was bandaged. His face was drawn, the charm stripped down to exhaustion, and the man in the wheelchair looked nothing like the man who had stood in our doorway with his hands in his pockets.

When he saw Janine, he stopped. His eyes widened, and for a second something crossed his face that looked like gratitude.

"You came."

I watched him look at her. A few days ago this man had a gun pointed at my chest. Now he was looking at Janine like she was the last good thing he'd ever see.

"I came to settle a debt. You're owed a conversation." Janine's voice was steady but I could hear the effort behind it. "One that should have happened six years ago. Maybe if it had, none of this would have needed to happen."

She stopped. Her breathing was getting faster. I put my hand on her knee under the table, and she pressed her palm over it.