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open coat. “They seriously allow you to carry a gun?”
    “That’s what happens when a court clears a person of all charges. Innocent in the eyes of the law and all that.”
    D.D. rolled her eyes. She hadn’t bought that story two years ago, either. “Why are you here?” the city cop asked crisply.
    “To take your case.”
    “Can’t.”
    Tessa didn’t say anything, silence being the best show of strength.
    “Seriously,” D.D. continued. “Can’t take my case, ’cause it’s not my case.”
    “What?” Tessa couldn’t help herself; the news was unexpected given D.D’s status as Boston’s reigning supercop.
    D.D. jerked her head toward the front door of the brownstone. “Lead detective is Neil Cap. He’s inside if you want to take up matters with him.”
    Tessa had to search her memory banks. “Wait a minute. The red-headed kid? The one who spent all his time at the ME’s office? That Neil?”
    “I raised him right,” D.D. said modestly. “And for the record, he’s five years older than you, and doesn’t take well to being called a kid. Definitely, you’re gonna need better manners than that if you want to muscle in on his case.”
    “I don’t need manners. I have permission from the owners to enter.”
    D.D.’s turn to appear surprised. Her bright blue eyes narrowed shrewdly. “The family? You’ve spoken to them? Because we’d really like to speak to them. Right away, in fact.”
    “Not the family. Turns out, like a lot of rich guys, Justin Denbe didn’t purchase his own home. His company did.”
    Detective Warren had always been a smart woman. “Shit,” the detective exhaled.
    “As of six this morning,” Tessa filled in, “Denbe Construction retained Northledge Investigations to handle all matters related to this property. I’m authorized to enter the home, assess the scene and conduct an independent analysis of the incident. Now, we can all stand around waiting for the fax to reach your offices, or you can let me get to work. As I was explaining to this fine officer here, the Denbe family is just a little bit connected. Meaning you might as well let me enter and put my head on the chopping block. It’ll save you the time and effort later of finding someone else to blame.”
    D.D. didn’t speak, just shook her head. The detective studied the brick walk for a second, maybe composing herself, but more likely coming up with the next line of attack.
    “What’d you serve in the end, Tessa?” D.D. quizzed. “Four, five years as a patrol officer?”
    “Four.”
    The veteran detective looked up. Her expression wasn’t mocking, but frank. “Not enough experience for this kind of case,” she stated bluntly. “You’ve never processed evidence, let alone dissected a five-story crime scene, let alone taken on responsibility for this kind ofsituation. We’re not talking speed-trapping motor vehicles or administering breathalyzer tests to drunks. We’re talking an entire family, gone, including a teenage girl.”
    Tessa kept her face impassive. “I know.”
    “How’s Sophie?” the Boston detective asked abruptly.
    “She’s doing well, thank you.”
    “My son’s name is Jack.”
    “How old?”
    “Eleven months.”
    Tessa had to smile. “Love him more than you ever thought you could love someone? Till you wake up the next day and realize you love him even more?”
    D.D. didn’t look away. “Yes.”
    “Told you so.”
    “I remember, Tessa. And you know what? I still think you were wrong. There are lines that shouldn’t be crossed. As a cop, you knew that better than anyone, and you still shot a person in cold blood. Whether out of love, or out of hate, murder is never right.”
    “Allegedly,” Tessa replied coolly. “Allegedly shot a person in cold blood.”
    D.D. did not look amused. She continued, voice slightly softer, “But…you got your daughter back. And there are days now, just like you said there would be, when I look at my son, and… I don’t know. If he