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before realizing that was foolish. Whatever the girl’s chronological age, it had no bearing on who she was. “…beer or wine.”
    “Tea’s fine.” Sandy dangled two bags by their strings, swinging them gently. “How about English Breakfast? That sounds pretty straight.”
    “Perfect.” Michael finally relented and sat at the breakfast bar while Sandy assembled the tea. “Thanks.”
    “Sure,” Sandy replied as she settled on an adjacent stool. “This place is really neat. It’s just like Sloan’s place downstairs—all open except for the partitions.”
    “Are you working with Sloan?” Michael frowned. “I’m sorry. I’m still not remembering everything. You’re not a police officer too, are you?”
    Sandy snorted. “Oh man, no way.”
    “Computer security?”
    “I, uh…help Frye out sometimes.”
    “Oh. How’s Officer Mitchell doing?”
    “Too much,” Sandy complained. “She can’t wait to get back to work.”
    “That seems to be some kind of occupational requirement.” Michael smiled as if at some secret thought. “I’m glad you two decided to stay here until her leg heals a bit and she’s getting around more easily.”
    “That was really nice of you. Thanks.” Sandy sipped her tea, surprised to find that she liked it. “At least this way, Dell can work with Jason till she’s better. That really matters to her…being part of the team.”
    “It’s quite a crew, isn’t it,” Michael said with obvious fondness. “Sometimes I know that Sloan would rather be on her own, but I feel better that she’s working with the others. I like to think they keep each other safe.”
    “Yeah.” Sandy thought of Frye, and of how that night in the warehouse, with the guy between her legs—pinning her down—she’d trusted that Frye would come. Somehow in the last few weeks, she’d learned to count on Dell and Frye and the others, and when it wasn’t scaring her, it felt good. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

    *

    “Hey, honey,” Mitchell said lazily. “Whatcha got for me?”
    “Tea,” Sandy replied, setting the mug on the bedside table. She switched on the lamp and examined the plastic prescription vials. “Jeez, strong stuff.” She opened one, shook out a pill, and extended it to Mitchell. “Here, take this.”
    “Tea? How ’bout a beer?”
    Sandy shook her head. “Nuh-uh. Not with this stuff—it’ll knock you on your ass.” She pursed her lips. “Although maybe that’s not so bad.”
    Mitchell laughed and reached for the tea. “I’ll take it tonight, just for you. But that’s it. I can’t think when I’m on this.”
    “Aw, you’re so good.” Sandy leaned down and kissed her. “Maybe you’ll get a reward later.”
    “Going somewhere?” Mitchell demanded. She caught Sandy’s hand and prevented her from moving away. “It’s late, San. Come back to bed.”
    “I told you I wasn’t going to be hanging around here all the time,” Sandy replied, extracting her fingers from Mitchell’s grip. “I have a life, y’know. I have things to do.”
    Mitchell pushed herself up in the bed and shoved the tea and the pill onto the bedside table. “What things ? What can’t wait until tomorrow morning?”
    “I need clothes.” Sandy indicated the borrowed jeans and T-shirt she still wore.
    “So you can get them in the morning. You’re not gonna wear anything to bed, are you?” Mitchell grinned.
    “Jeez, what is it with you? Didn’t we just take care of things for you?” Despite her words, Sandy’s tone had softened. She brushed her fingers through Mitchell’s hair. “No more for you tonight. You need to get some rest.”
    “Okay. So come to bed, and I will.”
    Sandy backed up a step. “I’ll be back later, Dell.”
    “What are you doing, Sandy?” Mitchell’s eyes were dark, her voice urgent. “Are you working? Is that it? Because if you need money—”
    “If I do, I’m not taking it from you,” Sandy snapped. “Not now, not ever. So just forget