Amy woke twice in darkness.

The first time was to the sound of Alex’s soft snoring beside her, and considered whether to wake him. He had given in to exhaustion before they could do more than cuddle after showering and eating, with a promise to go further when they were rested, but he clearly wasn’t rested yet. Disappointed, she gradually drifted off to sleep.

The second time followed a very loud whistle. “What is that?” she mumbled, and felt the bed shake beside her.

“That’s my doorbell,” she heard Alex say.

“Not a bell,” she grumbled. Opening her eyes, she saw his half-naked form move toward a nightstand.

“Cover your eyes,” he warned, and a blinding light flashed through her closed eyelids. She squinted and sat up, unsure whether to comment on the time or how irritated she felt.

The doorbell whistled again. “Let me get that,” he said, and moved quickly to the walk-in closet that faced the bed. He then put on a large bathrobe and left the room.

Amy debated with herself whether to get out of bed or just wait for him, but the decision was made for her when she heard him shout, “You!”

“Hello, Detective Rideout,” a woman’s voice said just loud enough to be heard through the wall. “I’m your new partner, and we have a situation.”

“Show me your badge,” he said, and then, “So it’s detective now?”

“Just promoted,” the woman said.

“Wait here, and let me get dressed,” Alex told her, and seconds later was back in the bedroom with the door closed.

“I’m sorry, Amy,” he said honestly, “it’s work.” He threw the bathrobe on the bed, and headed for his dresser.

She slid out of bed and found her clothes. “Your partner is a woman?” she asked.

“Apparently,” he said. She felt a little relief that he wasn’t happy about it.

They both finished dressing at the same time, and Amy stepped out behind him.

The woman was about Amy’s age and half-way in height between her and Alex, with short-cropped brown hair and wearing a white windbreaker just like the one she had given away at the restaurant. “Hello, Miss Pacer,” the woman said, and removed the windbreaker. “I believe this is yours.”

“Who are you, and how did you get that?” Amy snapped, and grabbed the windbreaker out of her hand, adding, “And how did you know I was here?”

“I’m Detective Ambrose, and it’s part of my job. The young lady you saved asked me to thank you again.”

“What’s the situation?” Alex asked her, pulling a jacket off a wall hook.

“We can’t discuss it here,” she answered bluntly, and turned to open the front door.

“Can I go with you? Amy doesn’t have a car.”

“Of course. I’d be happy to drop her off on the way instead of her taking yours.”

“Or him taking his,” Amy said.

“Right.” Ambrose made an attempt at a grin. “You’ll need your gun,” she said to Alex.

“Already have it,” he said, not revealing where.

“How do you two know each other?” Amy asked from the rear seat of Ambrose’s large black sedan when they were half-way to her apartment.

“We met once at a crime scene,” Ambrose said, driving. “I’m afraid I didn’t leave a very good impression on Detective Rideout.”

“That’s surprising,” Amy said, not surprised at all.

“You can call me Alex,” he told Ambrose.

She paused. “You can call me Cathy. It’ll be easier, since my husband is also a detective. I think you know him: Gary Ambrose.”

“El Paso deputy. Yeah, I’ve worked with Gary a couple of times.”

Amy said, “Looks like the birth of friendship, as my friend would say. By the way, Cathy, what’s your night job?”

“What?”

“You said this is your day job. What’s your night job?”

Ambrose paused. “I just got off a reserve assignment. That’s all I can say.”

“Gotcha. More like a part-time job. I guess that means we’re not at war.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear, Miss Pacer,” Ambrose said after a pause.

“I don’t,” Amy said, not sure whether to trust her.