It was after six, and Stahl was at his desk trying to stretch the squad’s schedule slightly so there would be an overlap at the beginning and the end of each team’s shift. So far the bomber hadn’t noticed those weak periods during shift changes, but Stahl couldn’t believe he wouldn’t. He wanted every moment covered, and if the bomber struck during the half hour of double staffing, Stahl would be able to hold over the finishing shift and send out the fresh shift to handle the emergency.

There was a knock and he saw Andy through the clouded glass of his door. “Come on in.”

Andy said, “There’s a call from Dave Bushman at the Times. He needs a comment on the questions the Channel Ten people asked at the press conference.”

Stahl took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Tell him the department has a press office.”

“I did, but he said he’s doing you a courtesy.”

“Okay.” He held up the page he had been working on. “Take this. It’s a design for a new schedule, with each shift staying on a half hour later so we never have that gap between them. Which line is Bushman on?”

“One.” Andy took the schedule and closed the door. Stahl took the phone receiver from its cradle and pressed the button that was flashing. “Dick Stahl.”

“Hi, Captain. This is Dave Bushman at the Times. I wanted to give you a chance to comment on the record about the line of questioning we heard from Gloria and Todd from Channel Ten today. Would you like to make a statement?”

“Not at this time, Dave. I appreciate the chance, but this isn’t the moment, and I may not be the person to answer.”

“Can you clarify that? Are you confirming or denying?”

“I’m pretty sure we’ll have a statement within twenty-four hours. But for now, I guess the answer is that I don’t have anything to say at this time.”

“All right,” Bushman said. “I hope that works out for you.”

“Thanks.”

Andy appeared at the door again, and Stahl beckoned to invite him in. Andy said, “They’re about to run the story on Channel Ten. They just gave a teaser and went to commercial.”

“Are you watching TV?”

“I’m streaming Channel Ten on my laptop.”

“Want to bring it in?”

Andy hurried out to his desk, lifted the open laptop, brought it in, and set it on Stahl’s desk. He hit the key to make the television image fill the screen. When the commercials were over, the faces of Gloria Hedlund and Todd Tedesco appeared. Gloria Hedlund’s big blue eyes widened and her perfect mouth turned upward in a smirk as she said, “A well-known public official has come under suspicion of violations of police regulations and city standards of conduct.”

Todd Tedesco sat beside her staring into the camera and wearing the expression of stern disapproval he displayed during each night’s most serious stories.

Gloria said, “Our story involves Captain Richard Stahl, the recently appointed commander of the LAPD Bomb Squad.” Stahl’s picture, a frozen image from the press conference a few weeks earlier, filled the screen. “And it involves this woman, a bomb technician who was seriously injured in a bomb blast about a month and a half ago.” Stahl recognized a frozen image from the press conference when Diane’s name had almost been revealed on camera. It was now on a split screen beside his. She looked beautiful.

“Here’s what happened at a police department briefing earlier today.” There was a shot of the police press room, where Gloria Hedlund stood and said, “Sergeant Hines seems to be pretty important. Do you have a special relationship with Sergeant Hines?”

Stahl and Andy sat through the rest, which ended with his stepping down from the podium and out the door. Even though three reporters from Channel Ten had spoken, Gloria Hedlund said, “The captain seemed a bit uncomfortable with my line of questioning. At the moment we don’t know why that is. It’s all too familiar to see an older male public servant with an exalted rank who suddenly gets touchy about his relationship with a young, pretty woman under his command. We believe Captain Stahl should know that and—innocent or not—be willing to answer questions from the public about his conduct. This is Gloria Hedlund, Channel Ten News.”

Andy sat paralyzed for a few seconds.

Stahl said, “I’m going to get a call in a minute. You should get out there and answer it quickly to show you’re on the job.”

“Yes, sir.” He took his laptop and went back to his workstation. A few minutes later, Stahl saw Andy pick up his phone. Then Andy turned in his swivel chair, saw that Stahl was watching him, pointed at the phone, and held up two fingers.

Stahl looked at the phone on his desk and picked up the receiver. “Captain Stahl, Bomb Squad.” He listened for a moment. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Stahl had to sit for only about five minutes in the waiting area outside the office of the chief of police. He used the time to type a few reminders to himself on his cell phone screen. He knew it was possible that these notes and reminders were things he would be passing on to his successor, and that made them more urgent. Some of them were ideas he had devised to solve technical problems he’d noticed over time, and there was no reason for the next commander to repeat the same work.

The chief’s door swung open and Deputy Chief Ogden looked out. When he saw Stahl he nodded and held the door open for him. Stahl walked to the door, took the hand Ogden offered, and shook it.

Ogden gave Stahl a smile that seemed to be intended as a reassurance, but Ogden’s nervous manner was unusual.

When Stahl stepped in, he saw the chief stand up from behind his large wooden desk and walk around to greet him. It took a few seconds, and during that moment Stahl took note of the fact that the room held several people he didn’t know.

The chief shook Stahl’s hand, but he didn’t smile. “Dick,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” said Stahl.

“Thank you for dropping everything to come in. I’ve been meaning to tell you how grateful we are for the help you’ve been giving us during this crisis. It’s clear to everybody that you’ve saved innumerable lives—police and civilian lives—in the past few weeks. Deputy Chief Ogden is closer to the scene, of course, because you’re in his command. But he tells me you’ve been proving day after day that you’re still the best bomb expert we’ve had. People say you’ve raised morale a hundred percent just by your example, and taught your technicians a whole lot of essential techniques and information.”

“Thanks, Chief.”

“I wanted to be sure I said that first, so you and everyone else know without a doubt that I have nothing but admiration for you.” He paused. “Have you heard the story that Channel Ten just ran on its local news tonight?”

“I did.”

The chief said, “When we knew there would be a story, I invited these ladies and gentlemen to watch it with me.” He held his arm out to introduce a middle-aged black woman in a navy-blue business suit. “This is Gwendolyn Barker, the chairperson of the police commission. You know Deputy Chief Ogden.” He passed him and pointed to a small man in a light gray suit. “This is Robert Minoso, our liaison with the city attorney’s office. And this is Nora Zorich, assistant DA.” She was exactly what Stahl expected of a prosecutor—very thin, wearing a black suit, sharp-featured, with dark eyes behind severe glasses.

Stahl shook hands with each of them. “You’ve assembled quite a team.”

Nora Zorich said, “If you’d like to have an attorney present, we can call and ask the union to send one.”

Stahl said, “I don’t think that’s necessary, but thank you. Let’s go ahead with our discussion.”

The chief said, “I’m going to ask you a question. You don’t have to answer it, but I hope you will. Is there any truth to the accusation from the newspeople?”

“Absolutely.”

“Pardon?” said Robert Minoso. “I’m not sure I heard correctly.”

“Yes,” said Stahl. “From the evening after the bomb we dismantled and destroyed at the gas station in the Valley until the day Diane Hines got injured in the trap at her apartment, she and I were engaged in a sexual relationship.”

The mood of the room seemed to become charged, full of potential energy like a courtroom. Gwendolyn Barker leaned forward. “Are you saying that the relationship is over?”

Stahl said, “No. But we hadn’t been together for very long before Sergeant Hines was attacked. About six days. She was severely injured and was in an induced coma for forty-two days before the doctors felt it was safe to bring her out of it. I think she’ll need time to assess our relationship from her present perspective and decide whether she still wants to pursue it. I’m hoping she’ll decide she still wants to, because I do.”

Gwendolyn Barker looked disappointed. Robert Minoso said quietly, “Are you aware that city and police regulations prohibit this conduct?”

“Yes,” said Stahl.

“I don’t know what to say,” said Minoso. “You’ve put the city in a difficult position. The city is liable for penalties and damages for sexual harassment, possibly for creating a hostile work environment, and on and on.”

“I’m very sorry,” said Stahl. “Mostly for the embarrassment I caused. But I wouldn’t worry about Sergeant Hines. She isn’t going to go after the department.”

Minoso looked deflated. “I’m sorry to have to take a different position, Captain Stahl. Like the chief, I’ve been very glad you agreed to help. But I’ve handled these cases for the city for years. We settle cases every year that started out in similar ways. Right now you’re saying to yourself that Sergeant Hines loves the police force. I’m sure she does, and I know she’s risked her life repeatedly to save other officers. But what we have to worry about isn’t today. What if, five years from now, you’ve broken up, and she’s been passed over for promotions, or disciplined, or even fired? She won’t love the police force then. There are statutes of limitations on most of the injuries she could sue for, but under the continuing violation theory, her attorneys could get around those limitations. Plenty have figured out how. We’re paying damages to plaintiffs from years ago all the time.”

“I’m sure you understand that neither of us intended to put the department in a difficult position,” said Stahl. “We had expected that the bomber case would be solved and I’d be off the police force by now, and Sergeant Hines would be able to continue her exemplary work for the rest of her career. She’s never had any violations of police policy before, and wouldn’t have except for my failings as a supervisor.”

Nora Zorich, the assistant DA, said, “Captain, I want to state my agreement with the others. I’m an admirer. And I’m more of an admirer since I’ve watched your behavior today, both in telling us the truth and in speaking of Sergeant Hines with affection and respect that prove to me this wasn’t a supervisor taking advantage of an employee. I’m positive that everyone in this room wishes we could apologize to you for invading your privacy, then forget the issue—or really, advise the chief to let it go. But we don’t have that option.”

“I understand,” said Stahl. “I’ll go write my resignation and make it effective tonight so it can be released in time for the eleven o’clock news. It will be phrased in a way that makes it clear the force didn’t tolerate my conduct and that the chief acted immediately the evening he heard about it and called me in. I do request that no action be taken against Sergeant Hines.”

The chief said, “Damn it. We can’t afford to lose either of you. We need help. Who wants to bust a woman who’s a hero to the department for having a normal private life?”

Gwendolyn Barker said, “I have an idea. It’s unorthodox, but it’s a way out.”

“What is it?” asked the chief.

“You accept Captain Stahl’s resignation. Then the police commission contracts with Mr. Stahl’s security company to provide his services during the crisis. Sergeant Hines probably won’t be back on active status for months. If she comes back while he’s still here, she won’t technically be under his supervision, because he’ll only be a civilian consultant and not a sworn officer. We hire outside experts, lawyers, and contractors all the time. Why not hire Mr. Stahl now? And that’s his punishment—that he’s off the force, with no rank.”

The chief said, “Do you buy that, Dick?”

“Yes, sir.”

That night Dick Stahl was waiting in Diane Hines’s room at Valley Presbyterian when she returned from a walk. She had a cane, but she was walking normally when she stepped in.

She came to him, presented herself for a hug, then kissed him quickly on the lips and sat on the bed.

“You’re recovering fast,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “Pretty soon they’ll kick me out of here.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.”

“Why?”

“Lots of reasons,” he said. “Nobody has talked to you about your apartment, right?”

“No.”

“That’s because it isn’t there anymore. It’s been gutted and they’re planning on rebuilding something, but it won’t be ready soon. I’d like to invite you to move into my place with me.”

She studied him. “Why?”

He met her stare. “Well, there are actually three reasons, but let me mention two out loud. Keep in mind you don’t have an apartment. The reasons are that I want you there, and that my condominium is probably the safest building in Los Angeles, particularly with two veteran cops in it.”

“You’re worried he’ll try for me again?”

“It has crossed my mind, but right now I’m just using that to make my place seem inviting.”

“Have you forgotten that living with you would get me fired? Or are you assuming I’ll never get well enough to handle a bomb again and be on disability forever?”

“I’m not assuming anything now,” he said. “And by the way, we’re caught.”

“Captain Almanzo? He told?”

“No, he didn’t. But a television reporter got a leak, probably from the crime scene people, and sprang it on me at a press conference today.”

“So I’m hours away from getting fired for being a slut?”

“No,” he said. “Your job is safe. I resigned from the force today. They’re going to hire my security company so I can keep working as a consultant on the bomber case while you recover.”

“Jesus, Dick. I caused this. I’m sorry.”

“For what? I wasn’t going to be a career cop.”

“For having humiliated you.”

“I’m not humiliated.”

She frowned. “I’ve been planning to go stay with my mother in Florida for a while. I have a perfectly nice mother, you know. I think I never mentioned her because we were having a wild fling and it seemed weird to bring her into it.”

“What’s her name?”

“Grace.”

“Pretty,” he said. “Was it a wild fling?”

“Hell yes, it was,” she said. “Every minute we weren’t working we were fooling around or drinking.”

“Good for us,” he said. She could see that his face looked sad.

“Did calling it a fling hurt your feelings?” she said. “Be honest with me.”

“I didn’t think about putting it in a category before. During those few days, my life consisted of getting through a tough day, and then making up for it with you at night. It was death all day and life at night with you.”

“I know what happened, and I understand everything up to the point when my apartment blew up. But what now? I’ve been trying to figure out what happens next. I think I need you to tell me what you’re thinking.”

“We move you into my place. We try to stop leaving things out when we talk. We don’t pretend that being together was a fling.”

“Okay,” she said. “Tomorrow when you come, bring me some of the clothes I left in your closet. All I own now is this nightgown with nothing in the back, and I have to hand it over when I leave.”