I'm so sorry for the delay in updates! It's just that school has started, and between the workload there and other things in my life, I've been a little busy. Don't worry, though, I'll definitely finish this story. This chapter's extra long for you guys. The action picks up too, so I hope you enjoy!

As always, leave a review!

Disclaimer: Fill-in-the-blank disclaimer. Something to the effect of me not being the owner of Cold Case.

FIFTEEN

The night passed by slowly and, thankfully, uneventfully. Lilly woke at seven and couldn't get back to sleep, so she just made herself a cup of coffee in the kitchen and curled up on the couch with Olivia and Tripod. It was…surprisingly lonely.

She sighed. Only two days, and she'd already gotten used to having Scotty sitting by her on the couch, his arm around her shoulders and his feet propped up on the coffee table. A couple of months ago, it might have appalled her how quickly she'd become so dependent on someone else. But things were different now. For one thing, she was different. Striving for happiness. So far, successful with it. And for another thing, this was Scotty she was becoming dependent on, not just any guy. And if there was anyone in the world she could trust without hesitation, it was him.

With a yawn, she wandered aimlessly through the house, nearly bored to tears. She fed the cats, brushed them twice, and sorted through some mail. She made herself another cup of coffee and downed that one just as quickly as the first. She tried to flip through a couple of channels on the TV but found herself unable to concentrate fully. Instead, her mind was, as it always seemed to be these days, on Scotty.

What was he doing? It was nearly nine now, so he must have been awake. She wondered if he was a morning person. By the way he came into the office bright and early every morning, he certainly seemed like one. Maybe he was in his kitchen at the moment, fixing himself some breakfast. Pancakes? Nah, they'd eaten them twice already. He was probably tired of them. Maybe some eggs like he'd made the morning before, and orange juice. Then he'd get into the bathroom, brush his teeth and take a shower—

Lilly jerked her mind away from thoughts of showering as the unbidden image of Scotty bare-riffed and lathering soap in his dark hair popped into her head. Good thing he wasn't here, or else he'd spot the scarlet blush spreading rapidly across her face and she'd be twice as embarrassed.

She sighed. There was no use in just sitting there; her rebel of a mind would just settle on Scotty and dangerous thoughts. Maybe less dangerous now that she and Scotty were something of an item, but dangerous nonetheless.

Her eyes landed on the case files tucked under a couple of books on her coffee table. That feeling nagged at her again, so she reached forward and opened up the files.

She scanned the pages without much enthusiasm. They were missing something, sure, but she didn't have much of an idea what, and she didn't quite know where to start.

Pam should have been home when Tucker dropped by the Valens household. Enrique and their son should have been out. So it was Pam alone, which would have been perfect for a visit from her lover Tucker. But the problem was, he'd come with a gun. Why? Had she wanted something from him she shouldn't have? Had she done something to him? But none of it made any sense. Tucker didn't have anything to gain from Pam's death. Enrique's death, sure, but he wouldn't have known Enrique would be home.

Lilly turned a page and spotted a note in Stillman's quick, neat script.

Tucker Quincy, restraining orders '05, '06.

Restraining orders. For stalking, Scotty had said. It wasn't much, but it was something. Lilly dug her cell phone out of her coat and punched in a number.

He answered on the second ring. "Lil?"

Lilly cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder and set aside two folders she didn't need. "Yeah, Boss. I was just looking at the case files for Scotty's cousin, and I wanted to know some more about the restraining orders taken out against Tucker Quincy."

"You're still working, Lil?" Stillman's voice carried a clear note of disapproval.

"It's after Christmas," Lilly reminded him, grinning a little. "I took the week off—some of it, anyway."

She heard Stillman sigh heavily through the phone. "I thought White and Rizzo were going after Quincy."

"I know. I just wanted to look into his background a bit, maybe figure out where he's going next since they didn't pick him up at Laurel Hill."

Another sigh. "Alright, fine. Hang on. I'll get to my computer and pull the information up."

Lilly fetched herself some more coffee from the kitchen as she waited, and eventually, Stillman's voice came back through.

"I've pulled up Tucker Quincy's profile. No criminal arrests, but he had two restraining orders taken out against him, one in 2005 and the other in 2006. Both against two women, one Audrey Johnson and another Tara Eden, for stalking. He called their houses, waited for them on their doorsteps, shadowed them to places they went…Both women were approached by him, not the other way around. His relationship with Audrey lasted two months, and the one with Tara lasted six."

Lilly bit her lip in concentration as she scribbled notes into the margins of Tucker Quincy's profile page. "Okay, Boss. Was there anything specific about those two he was targeting? Like jobs, places he met them, something like that?"

She heard the keyboard clacking as Stillman pulled up whatever information he needed. "No…" he said after a moment. "Nothing on where they worked, and he apparently met them in different places. The only thing I see is that they resemble each other. Blond hair, tall, pretty type."

Lilly sat up straight. Maybe…? "Boss…"

Apparently Stillman was thinking along the same lines. His voice sharpened. "Lil, you think this guy's a serial type of guy? Goes after the same type of girl?"

"Or he just likes blondes," Lilly muttered, flipping through her papers. "But if he is going after blondes specifically, there must be a reason. Serial killers have a fixation of some sort, so they choose their victims carefully. Maybe Tucker's the same, but not as extreme. At least, he hasn't killed anyone yet."

"So he's got some figure in his life who's blond, tall, pretty-looking, and he's fixating over her?" Stillman summarized.

"But his profile mentioned he didn't make many friends in his old neighborhood. A family type of guy, really. Never hung around with anyone else."

"Secret lover?"

Lilly nodded, feeling the growing sense of excitement that accompanied a discovery. "So he goes after Audrey and Tara, connecting them to his mystery person because of physical resemblance. He gets too close, they're driven away. They get restraining orders against him. Then he moves to Philly and goes after Pam."

"Pamela does fit the type he's going after," Stillman agreed. "Only one thing: Tara lives in Philly, which means he's been here in Philly for over two years."

"So he lied to us about that," Lilly mused. "Said he'd only been here two years. To throw suspicion off himself? Thought maybe we wouldn't connect him to the restraining orders?"

They sat in silence for a moment, turning the new information over in their minds. Finally, she heard rustling from Stillman's end of the line, like he was standing up.

"It's good information, Lil. But it isn't enough to find him yet. We might have his motive for going after Pam, but we still don't know where he is or why he brought the gun to the house."

Lilly sighed. "I know. Thanks for the info, Boss."

"No problem, Lil. Now do me a favor and put the case files away."

"Boss—"

"No buts. I don't care if it's past Christmas already, I want you resting. I've seen those circles under your eyes. I doubt you've been getting an hour of sleep all week."

She wanted to argue. She was fine, and she didn't need rest, not really. Not after she'd slept fine for the past two nights. But by the steel in Stillman's tone, he wasn't going to back down on this one. So she sighed. "Fine, Boss. When can I come back to work?"

He sighed, and she imagined him taking off his glasses and shaking his head in exasperation. "You let me worry about that, Lil. Just get some rest."

Deciding not to push the point, Lilly said goodbye and hung up. Well, at least she'd found out why Tucker was 'in love with' Pam. He had to have a lover or girlfriend or maybe even some girl he'd never talked to but admired from afar. Someone who was forbidden to him, or didn't love him the way he wanted, and he was connecting with women who shared physical resemblance to his true love.

A thought struck her. Obviously, Tucker was deluded and dangerous in his delusions. If he believed that Pam and he were in love, was it possible that he'd dreamed up the idea of an affair as well? Maybe…maybe Pam had acted so innocent because she had been innocent?

She considered calling Scotty to tell him what she'd found. She was already reaching for the phone before she stopped herself. He was spending quality time with his family, probably. Maybe laughing with his nieces, horsing around with his nephews, or talking in that rapid-fire Spanish of his to his parents. She didn't have any right to intrude on that, not until she had something more definitive at least. Still, she was reluctant to set down the phone; it would have been nice to at least hear his voice.

Lilly burned another hour alternating from drinking coffee to playing with the cats to taking a short, brisk walk up and down her block. Finally, she came back to her house, red-faced and panting from the cold. It seemed like hardly any time had passed by. A day had never felt longer.

When her phone cut through the deafening silence, Lilly jumped for it. Anything to distract her thoughts from wandering in Scotty's direction.

"Hello?" she said, almost breathlessly.

"Lil?"

She started in surprise. "Scotty?"

"Yeah, just wanted to call and see how you were doin'."

See how she was doing? It was noon. He really didn't think she'd gotten into something in the space of the morning? Still, Lilly couldn't help a wry smile. "Scotty, I can take care of myself. Have been for a long time."

"Can't stop me from askin'," he replied. "I wanted to—"

A scream cut through his words, and Lilly jumped in alarm. "Scotty!" Something couldn't have gone wrong, could it have? He was okay, wasn't he?

She heard him grunting and rustling and…laughing?

"Scotty?" she repeated, confused. "You okay?"

There was a long silence before he groaned and laughed. "It's nothin'. I'm playin' some football with the kids, and I just got tackled a good one."

"Oh." Lilly smiled widely at the thought of Scotty being swarmed by a pack of howling kids. "Having fun?"

"Oh, tons."

He groaned again, and Lilly couldn't help teasing, "You okay there, Scotty? Those kids really wearing you down, huh?"

"No way, I'm good. What're you doin'?"

"Uh, nothing. Playing with the cats."

He chuckled. "Did you eat breakfast?"

"What are you, my mother?" Lilly asked, but she grinned. "Yeah, I had a bunch of coffee."

"Any real food?"

Lilly rolled her eyes. "No. My chef isn't in."

"Oh?" She could hear the amusement heavy in his voice. "Where's he at?"

"Family business," she answered. "I wonder how long it'll take him."

He was smiling, she could tell. "Oh, I don't know how long it'll take him."

"Oh." Lilly couldn't pretend she wasn't disappointed. Look at that, not even half a week into a relationship with Scotty and she was already craving his touch and missing everything about him. Most of her rebelled against dependency; she hadn't relied on anyone since her mother, and look what that had gotten her—pain, misery, a run to the convenience store at two in the morning because her mother couldn't stand another hour without some vodka in her. But another part of her wanted to believe that this was it, this was what she had been waiting for, what she needed. This was someone she could rely on without hesitation, someone who'd be there for her when she needed him, no matter what.

"Lil?"

She started from her thoughts. "Oh, yeah, Scotty?"

"You okay?"

"Fine. Stop asking me that." She injected some amusement into her tone to keep from sounding too defensive, but she was sure he heard it anyway.

"Fine," he said. "Just wanted to tell you I don't know how long this'll take, but I'm sure of somethin'."

"What's that?"

"That your chef will be back in time to cook you breakfast tomorrow. What d'you want?"

Lilly grinned widely. How could such little promises put such a wide smile on her face?

"Anything," she answered happily, flopping back to lie on her couch. After a moment of hesitation, she added, "You want to come over tonight?"

"To watch some TV? Or…more?" He sounded hopeful, like a kid asking for candy. Although the situations weren't quite comparable…

Was she ready to do something more with him? Probably. Definitely. She'd been ready practically since he'd kissed her in the diner. But it all depended on how the night progressed, didn't it?

"Maybe," she said at last. "We'll see."

"Okay." He sounded happy, which counted for something. "I'll see you later then."

"Yeah. Bye."

Lilly flipped the phone shut and sat up. Now that she knew Scotty was coming back for the night, the minutes seemed to tick by even more slowly. With a sigh, she made up her mind and dug her phonebook out from under a pile of old case files in the corner of the room.

Tara Eden…Tara Eden…

There. Lilly drew her finger down the page to the name and located the address. Perfect. It was only thirty minutes away, tops. She could drive there, interview Tara, and be back before dinner. If it turned out to be a valuable lead, they could find Tucker and close this case once and for all. If it didn't…well, at least she would have burned some hours efficiently instead of sitting at home gulping coffee and staring at the clock.

Murmuring a quick goodbye to the cats, she donned her coat, grabbed her phone and keys, and stepped out into the bright, snowy streets.

He drew in a quiet breath, trying to ignore the stitch in his side. Damn police. Was there any place in Philly that wasn't infested with them? He ducked into an alleyway and behind a trash can to catch his breath.

How had it all gone so wrong? One day he was getting friendly with Pam, and he was so sure she was falling for him, so damn sure, and the next, Pam was denying any feelings for him and he was getting hunted by police all over the city. What a damn bad way to end the year. And he'd been doing so well too…

He tucked his hands under his armpits to keep warm and sighed. He should've gotten the hint by now that his romances—if that's what they could be called—would always end in failure. First Audrey…then Tara…and now Pam. Why didn't they love him? Wasn't he good enough? Of course he was. He loved them, and that was what counted. He'd always been good enough. It was just that they were too damn stupid to see it.

No matter, no matter. Before the day was out, it would be over, all his pain, all his misery, everything. Either they would win or he would. Probably the second one, he mused with a sardonic grin. After all, he was the one with the gun.

He closed his eyes and thought about her. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, gorgeous. She'd been so beautiful. So beautiful. He'd loved her like he'd never loved anybody before or since. But she hadn't returned his feelings. Why? Why? He'd been kind and patient and he'd loved her the way she deserved. So why hadn't she seen how good of a man he was?

He shook his head and banished the thoughts. No use thinking on the past now. Today, he was in love with another girl, and he would make her see it if he had to tie her down to a chair and force her to listen. He would not be pushed away this time.

On the street, the patrol car pulled slowly away from the curb, apparently done with waiting. Within moments, it was around the corner and out of sight. He was safe, for the moment.

Quietly, nonchalantly, Tucker slunk out of his hiding place and slipped into the crowds on the street. He slipped his hands in his pockets and walked with his shoulder hunched to keep people from seeing his face. He had a mission today, and he couldn't get caught until he finished it. No, he couldn't get caught, period.

Standing on the edge of the street, he hailed a cab and gave the driver the address. In the car, he sat silently, answering with noncommittal grunts when the driver tried to start up a conversation. He breathed deeply and tried to keep himself calm, but it was proving impossible. His heart thudded solidly in his chest, and his hands would not keep still. His lips were dry and he couldn't quite concentrate on the scenery flashing by. He didn't think he'd ever felt so unsettled in his life.

What if she wasn't there? What if she'd gone somewhere, supermarket or something? Maybe he'd just wait for her to show up. Yes, that's what he'd do. And if she wouldn't come with him at first, he'd just have to force her.

And that cop? his mind demanded. What if that cop's there?

Shoot him. He'd shoot him. He'd shoot anyone who got in the way. It was as simple as that.

"Sir? Sir?"

He jerked into awareness and realized they'd stopped. The cabbie stared at him strangely. Probably wondering why his passenger looked so nervous. You're better off not knowing, Tucker thought.

"Here," he muttered, shoving some money at the cabbie. He opened the door and stepped out quickly, feeling acutely the butt of the gun pressing against his lower back. He waited until the cab pulled off before heading down the walkway toward the house. Taking slow, measured steps, he advanced up the dirt path, taking deep breaths. Somehow, inexplicably, as he drew nearer to the act, he felt calmer, more at peace. He didn't care why, as long as it gave him the strength he needed.

Three o'clock.

He drew his gun.

The house was large and fancy, just the kind of house Lilly had dreamed of when she was a little girl. It was two-storied and white, looking like a palace in the fresh snow. Bushes that would no doubt grow flowers in the spring adorned the paved walkway up to the door. No one was in sight.

Lilly reached out a gloved hand and knocked solidly on the door. Her breath steamed out in white plumes, and she stamped her feet a couple of times against the cold.

Let her be home, she thought, wishing she'd worn a thicker coat. It seemed to have gotten even colder in Philly since Christmas, and it had snowed a couple of more times too. She thought of snowball fights and grinned.

The door opened, and Lilly put on a friendly smile. The woman in the doorway spoke curtly before Lilly could even get a word in.

"I'm telling you now, I don't want to buy anything. Also, if you're here preaching about something, I don't want to hear it either."

Lilly flashed her badge. "Good thing I'm not here for that then. Detective Lilly Rush, Philly Homicide."

The woman's eyes widened, though her expression remained composed. "Who…who died?"

"No one yet," Lilly answered. "This case is a little complicated. I'm here to talk to you about Tucker Quincy."

Lilly noted how the woman stiffened visibly at the name. "Tucker Quincy? I…" The woman raised a hand to nervously brush some hair from her face. The impatient edge to her voice had disappeared. "That's a name I haven't heard in a very long time."

"You're Tara Eden then?"

The woman hesitated a moment before nodding. "Come inside, Detective."

Lilly followed her in, glad for the warmth pervading the house. Tara continued into the living room, where the fireplace was going strong, sending out waves of heat. Taking out her notepad, Lilly took a seat across from Tara in a plush armchair.

"So," Tara said, crossing her legs in a perfect picture of a wealthy woman, "tell me what's happened."

"Tucker is on the run from the police," Lilly told her. "He shot a man the week before Christmas, and he shot two police officers yesterday."

"Oh my God." Tara stared at her in disbelief. "Are—are you sure? Tucker?"

Lilly nodded. "I was hoping you could tell me something about him that would help us find him."

Tara shook her head gently. "I—I don't know," she stammered.

"You were with him for six months," Lilly reminded her. "You must remember something."

"I was young," Tara said, sighing. "And stupid back then. I don't remember much about him, other than he was nice, and I thought I was in love for a little while. I met him at a—diner. He bought me breakfast." She smiled a little at the memory, her eyes far away. "He was…very charming. I was taken in by him. God knows why." She sighed and put a hand to her forehead.

"Your thoughts on him changed?" Lilly guessed.

Tara nodded. "We'd been together for about three months. I noticed Tucker was a little possessive, but that summer, I realized just how jealous he got. We were at a bar together, and Tuck left for a couple of minutes to get me a drink. While he was gone, a guy came up to me, started talking. He was nice, and he wasn't inappropriate or anything. But Tuck got so mad. He punched the guy straight in the eye without even asking a question, and they got into a big bar fight." She shook her head. "It got pretty bad. The only reason Tuck wasn't sued to hell and back is because my dad got him a great lawyer."

Lilly glanced around the house. Tara was definitely rich. It was no wonder they could afford a lawyer to spring Tucker from what looked like an impossible situation.

"So what happened after that?" Lilly asked, leaning forward. "You stayed with him."

Tara nodded. "I did. I regret it too. Back then, he made me feel…wanted, you know?" She looked at Lilly in confirmation.

Oh, yeah, she knew. She could honestly say she knew now. She remembered Scotty's warm concern and his fiery temper when White had belittled her, and nodded. "I know."

Tara cleared her throat. "Well, that's why I hung on for another three months or so. But then it just got to be too much. He'd call and demand to know what I was doing, and if he didn't believe me, he'd follow me places. It got way too creepy, so I broke it off with him."

"He wasn't very happy about that," Lilly said, raising an eyebrow. "He kept following you afterwards?"

Nodding slowly, her necklace jangling, Tara nodded. "That's why I got the restraining order against him. He was getting frightening—"

"He threatened you?"

"No, not threatened exactly, but he wouldn't leave me alone. Kept begging for another chance and telling me I'd made a mistake." Tara sighed. "He kept saying he'd let it go twice, but not this time, not this time."

Lilly felt excitement stir in her, and she leaned closer. "Twice? Do you know what he was talking about?"

Tara bit her lip gently, her brow furrowing. "I don't know. I always wondered about that."

"We think he had a similar case before you," Lilly told her. "It seems like he sought out blond, blue-eyed women and became very attached to them. He dated a woman named Audrey Johnson before you, and she also got a restraining order against him."

"Audrey?" Tara repeated, a flicker of recognition sparking in her eyes. "I think…I think I remember hearing that name somewhere. Tuck might have mentioned it in passing once. I asked him about his ex-girlfriends because I was feeling insecure, or something." She scoffed quietly and rolled her eyes. "God, I was such a little girl. Anyway, he mentioned an Audrey. Said she hadn't accepted him like I had."

"Did he mention anyone else?" Lilly asked, her tone sharpening as she sensed revelations. Would this be what she was looking for? "Any other ex-girlfriends?"

Tara thought for a moment before nodding slowly. "I…I remember one other girl. I remembered her in particular because he got this softest look in his eyes when he talked about her. What was her name again? Lora? Lara? Lanie?" She sighed. "It was so long ago. I don't really remember her name. I'm pretty sure her last name was Opal though. I remembered it because it was weird."

Deciding to look it up later, Lilly scribbled down the name. When she was done with that, she asked, "Do you have any idea where he might be now? Anywhere he might hide?"

Tara shook her head quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Was there any place he felt safe maybe? Maybe someplace from his childhood, somewhere with fond memories?" Any of those places would make a good place to search for Tucker, maybe give them at least a clue.

But Tara shook her head. "Tuck never talked much about his childhood. All I knew was that his parents was dead, and he didn't have that great of a childhood. I got the feeling he didn't talk much about his past because it wasn't very happy."

Lilly paused. "He talked to you about his family? In that case, do you know of any relatives in the area? Maybe an aunt, uncle? Someone he was close to?"

Tara's brow furrowed in thought and she shook her head. "No, I thought all his family was dead."

"They are, according to his file," Lilly said, feeling a growing disappointment. Was it always going to be dead end after dead end? Would it end with Tucker Quincy slipping right through their fingers like water?

Tara shifted in her seat and folded her hands in her lap. "Why do you ask?"

Lilly sighed. "Tucker was heard saying that he couldn't leave yet, that he couldn't leave his family. I was wondering if you'd know where he's gone."

Tara paused, her eyes giving off a flicker of understanding, and Lilly pounced on it immediately. "You know something?" At the woman's slow nod, Lilly prompted, "Tell me."

"Well, I don't know if it's much," Tara said slowly, "but Tuck used to say something. He used to say when we were dating that I was his only family and that he'd never leave me. He promised that a lot, even though I never thought he was telling the truth. How can a guy promise to stay with you forever like that, right?"

Right, Lilly agreed silently. She remembered Scotty's promise over breakfast and felt a wave of irritation. If only he hadn't said that…If only he hadn't made a promise she knew he couldn't keep. It wasn't anything against him; it was just that she knew he would leave her someday. People left her, and that was that—the way of the world. If only Scotty could see it too.

And then the rest of what Tara had said registered in her mind, and Lilly felt her blood run cold.

Family.

He used to say when we were dating that I was his only family.

A snippet of a conversation flashed through her mind, the words hot and chilling with their new significance.

We're family. They're the only family I got.

Suddenly she knew exactly where Tucker Quincy was going, if he wasn't there already. He was going home to his family, or to people he saw as his family. And when he got there…

Snapping her notepad closed, Lilly muttered a quick goodbye and hurried out the door. Fumbling with her keys, she jammed them into the ignition, her heart pounding. The wheels screeched as she raced off down the street.

Let them be okay, she thought shakily, clenching the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. Let me not be too late.

"Can't we play some more? Please? Please?"

Scotty raised a hand to fend off his nephews and shook his head. "Nah," he panted. "I've had enough. You guys go entertain yourselves." He steeled himself against their puppy-eyed whining and ducked inside to grab a drink.

"Really wearing yourself out, aren't you?" Patricia asked with a grin as he brushed past her.

He groaned. "Hell of a mornin'. When did they get so big?"

She laughed. "You getting tired of being tackled? Are they too much for you?"

Scotty scoffed and poured himself a glass of water. "What? C'mon." He took a long swallow and wiped sweat from his brow. "What's goin' on inside?"

"What else?" Patricia returned, grinning widely. "Mike's beating the crap out of everyone else in poker, all the women are knitting and talking, and your mother's chasing your father out of the kitchen for filching snacks."

Scotty grinned. "That never changes." He set the glass aside and went to the living room, where the rest of the family stood and sat crowded, chattering loudly and laughing. His brother crowed his victory from the makeshift poker table amongst half a dozen groaning cousins. His aunts discussed various subjects over their knitting, and his father sat in his plush armchair, nursing a sore spot on his arm where Rosa Valens had no doubt rapped him with her wooden spoon. With a grin, Scotty headed in to join them.

"Scotty," Ramiro greeted, smiling. He patted his son on the arm affectionately. "Where have you been?"

Scotty grinned. "Out back playin' football with the kids."

Ramiro nodded, memories shining in his eyes. "It seems like just yesterday that I was the one playing football with you kids in the back."

"You cheated a lot," Scotty grumbled good-naturedly. "You were bad at football."

Ramiro chuckled. "You remember that? I didn't think you would."

Scotty groaned and lowered himself into the chair next to his father. "Those kids are ridiculously energetic. And they tackle like bulldozers."

Ramiro shook his head, a fond grin creasing his lips. "That's what I said when you were a kid." He sighed and rubbed his hands together. "How time flies, huh? Now I'm a grandfather, and I have a family that's almost too big. So much time has passed…" His eyes turned to focus on his son. "So, Scotty...tell me what's going on with your partner."

At the mention of her, Scotty couldn't keep the happy smile from his face. "Lil? What d'you wanna know?"

His father smiled at his obvious joy. "Something has changed this week, hasn't it?"

Something changed? Oh yeah. Hell yeah. Just a week before, he'd been moping around, thinking he'd completely stomped all over their partnership and trampled to hell the friendship they'd had going strong. He'd been half-terrified she'd run for the hills if he so much as looked at her funny. But now, not only was he allowed to look at her funny, he could draw her into a crushing hug and kiss her 'til they both passed out. There couldn't be a happier man on earth.

"Scotty?"

He realized suddenly that he'd been staring off into space grinning foolishly to himself. Snapping back into reality, he nodded. "Yeah, you could say that. We've both come around."

Ramiro smiled. "That's good. I was worried about you. I want you happy."

Scotty returned his smile. "I ain't ever gonna be happier. She's—she's perfect."

His father raised an eyebrow. "No one's perfect."

Really? Because he'd really changed his perspective on perfection since he'd met Lilly.

"Well, she ain't perfect," he amended. "But she's amazin' and perfect in her own way. She's gorgeous, and she's smart, and she won't take any crap from anyone. She's damn good at her job too. She's the best detective I've ever seen."

Ramiro smiled gently, his eyes twinkling with shared joy. His voice was soft as he asked, "You love her?"

Did he love her? His father had asked this question before, when he'd brought home a couple of girlfriends after Elisa. The question had sent him running for the hills, and he'd never made the mistake of bringing a girl around his parents again. Love? Love? He'd sworn that after Elisa, he'd never love again. It wasn't worth the risk, wasn't worth the pain. But somehow, against his will, it had happened again. He'd gone and fallen stupidly in love with his partner, and, wonder of wonders, she hadn't run. They'd collided like two comets in the sky, clumsily, with so many sparks, and somehow, in the end, they'd come out alright. And the risks—hell, as far as he was concerned, he'd take Lil any day and damn any potential pain to hell.

For the first time since Elisa, he didn't hesitate. "Yeah, I love her. I love her more than I've ever loved anybody."

Even Elisa. He didn't say it, but his father heard it and his smile was blinding. It was a smile that said at last, at last my son has moved on and he is happy—well and truly happy. Scotty returned the smile full force, and he knew then that he had moved on. Elisa was now a fond memory, something he could think back on to remember the good times he'd had. The pain of her death was duller, still present, but softened by the thought of his blue-eyed partner and her gorgeous smile. He felt lighter than he ever had since that day he'd heard about Elisa and the Schuylkill.

His father smiled knowingly and patted his arm. "I am glad for you, Scotty. You deserve it."

Scotty smiled back, and the two of them settled back to watch the family bustle around and through the living room. Sitting here in the company of his loud and boisterous family, knowing that at night, he'd have someone to go to made Scotty close his eyes in a rush of happiness. Life couldn't be better.

Ding-dong.

The doorbell was nearly lost in the din of the house, but Scotty caught it. He made to get up, but Ramiro shook his head.

"I'll get it," his father said, levering himself out of the armchair. With a shrug, Scotty sat back and closed his eyes, listening to Ramiro pad away toward the door.

He wondered what Lil was doing. Hopefully, she'd eaten something since the last time he'd called. She was looking paler these days, whether from lack of sleep or lack of nutrition, he couldn't tell. The only thing he was sure of was that there was no way in hell Lilly was getting sick on his watch. If he had to show up at her house at every mealtime, handcuff her to the dining table, and duct tape a fork to her hand, he would.

Maybe she was still getting nightmares? The thought startled him. He hadn't thought about it much. He hadn't thought about that night either, the night after they'd gone to Jones' Tavern and Lilly had completely freaked. Curiosity burned in his anew, and he wondered again what the hell had happened to make her cower like that. Someone had hit her, that part was clear as day. Clenching his fist at the thought of someone raising a hand to his partner, Scotty thought about the who of it all. Maybe her dad? Maybe some scum of the earth her mom had been seeing at the time? Whoever it was, he was still haunting her to this day. But things were different now. Scotty was here now. Did Lil see that? Did she see that whoever scared her would get the crap beat out of him once Scotty just figured out who he was?

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice that his father had been gone for nearly five minutes. It was only when the screaming started that he noticed that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

"Oh my God!"

His mother's scream launched him from the chair, eyes narrowed in search of danger, his hand reaching automatically for his gun. Chaos reigned as people in the back rushed to see what was going on, and people nearer to the door stumbled back into the living room. Scotty pushed past his brother at the poker table, craning his neck to see what had happened.

What he saw made a chill run down his spine.

Tucker Quincy stood in the doorway, his expression hard and a small, almost demented smile curling at his lips. And in his raised hand gleamed a gun.

Scotty felt his heart skip a beat. Part of him froze in shock. Tucker Quincy. Here? With a gun? The detective in him kicked in, searching instantly for the exits and trying to analyze Tucker's motive in coming to the Valens' house. The answer, obvious, popped into his scrambled mind easily: he was here for Pam and maybe to finish what he'd started with Enrique.

Damn it! Scotty thought, wondering why the hell he'd decided to leave his gun at home today. Oh, right, because he'd been going to a family reunion and hadn't expected a psychopath to show up with a gun. Still, he cursed himself for that lapse in judgment. Without a firearm, he had no real chance against Tucker unless he got within arm's reach of him. Heart pounding, Scotty inched forward, hoping to be able to take advantage of any opportunities.

"Nobody move!" Tucker said harshly, sweeping the gun's muzzle from side to the side. The entire family cowered against the opposite wall, Scotty in the middle of them.

Ramiro stood closest to the gunman. His back was straight, his expression unafraid. "What do you want?" Scotty felt a rush of pride at the commanding edge to his father's voice.

Tucker turned to him, and Scotty could see his eyes—blue that had darkened with wildness, an unshakeable determination, a hint of desperation to it all. He could tell instantly that this was a man past his rope and that reason wouldn't do a thing against him. Tucker was beyond logic.

"What do I want?" Tucker repeated. "What do I want? I want the woman I love. Yes, I want Pam. Where's Pam? You here, baby?" He raised his eyes to search the crowd, waving the gun about as he did so. At his side, Scotty saw the table of his poker-playing cousins tensing. Don't move, he wanted to tell them. For the love of God, don't do anythin' stupid. But his throat was dry, and the words wouldn't come. He just hoped they wouldn't take any risks.

Someone behind him whimpered, and Scotty noticed for the first time that it was Pam. She was in his reach, out of sight because of his shoulders. Thank God for small miracles. Now if Tucker could be convinced that Pam had left, or maybe that Pam had gone out back, they had a chance of getting most of the people out safely. Scotty edged back, reaching backwards to grab Pam's hand and keep her behind him.

And then someone stepped forward—Enrique, with his shirt collar unbuttoned so that the bandage on his chest was just barely visible. Scotty cursed inwardly.

"You aren't going anywhere with my wife," he growled lowly, an unusually menacing look snapping in his eyes.

Scotty tensed, his heart pounding against his rib cage. His grip on Pam's hand must have been painful, but she didn't make a sound. Every person's eyes were riveted on the gun, wondering if it would flash and spit forth death. Scotty couldn't breathe.

Tucker laughed. It was an unbridled, demented laugh that sent chills down Scotty's spine. This man was crazy, and anything to do with crazy men with guns never ended happily. He closed his eyes briefly and muttered a quick prayer for the safety of his family. To his side, he heard his mother whispering Spanish prayers under her breath.

I ain't lettin' anyone get hurt, he promised himself. I'm a cop. It's my job to deal with this.

"I'm not going anywhere?" Tucker repeated, his voice full of amusement. "You're saying that to me? Maybe you haven't noticed, but I'm the one with the gun, Enrique."

The fear was all too clear in Enrique's face, but to his credit, he didn't retreat. "Pam is my wife, and you aren't taking her anywhere while I'm still alive."

Horror flooded Scotty at his cousin's choice of words. He knew Tucker's next sentence almost before the mechanic uttered them.

"Alright then," Tucker said, smiling lazily. "I can fix that."

He raised the gun to Enrique's head, and Scotty saw in terror his finger tighten on the trigger.

"Stop!"

Too late, Scotty noticed that Pam had slipped out of his grasp. Desperately, he reached out to grab her arm as she pushed past him, but she dodged his hand and continued through the crowd to where Enrique stood. Although she trembled visibly, Pam held her head high, her expression defiant.

"Stop," she said lowly, her voice admirably steady. "Leave my husband alone."

Tucker's expression softened perceptibly as he spotted her. "Pam. There you are." Ever so slowly, he lowered the gun, and Scotty drew a shaky breath. A current of relief ran through the room.

"What do you want?" Pam asked coldly, folding her arms to keep them from trembling.

"You, of course," Tucker said, sounding confused. "We're going to leave Philly, leave all this behind, and go somewhere we can be together. We can be in love now, Pam, don't you see?"

"I don't love you," Pam spat, the hatred in her eyes snapping. "I never loved you. You're a monster."

Scotty flinched, fully expecting Tucker to lash out. To his shock, the man merely smiled, his expression calm.

"You say that now, baby," he said softly, raising a hand to stroke Pam's cheek, "but you won't after you're out of here. We're gonna go someplace quiet, someplace they'll never find us."

Enrique found his voice. "You aren't going anywhere," he said adamantly. "Don't touch my wife!"

The transformation on Tucker's face was instantaneous and frightening. His eyes hardening in fury, he whipped his arm around and clubbed Enrique on the side of the head with the butt of the gun. His cousin crumpled to the ground like he was a marionette and someone had brutally cut his strings. Someone screamed. Scotty leaped forward instinctively and then froze when Ramiro stepped between the gun and Enrique, who lay unmoving on the ground.

"Stop this madness," his father said calmly, raising his hands. "Leave us alone. You don't want any of us."

"You think you can talk me out of this, old man?" Tucker sneered, raising his gun. "You think I haven't thought about this? I love Pam. I've loved her for years. She loves me too, I know it. She's just too afraid to admit it here. But I'm taking her away now, and she's gonna love me too. She's gonna realize just how much she loves me and how I'm the perfect guy for her. She's gonna see that there isn't any reason she shouldn't love me!"

"Leave my father alone!"

Scotty's heart nearly stopped a third time as his brother Mike, the closest one to Ramiro, surged forward and blocked Tucker's line of sight at Ramiro. Tucker retreated a step, his free hand clamped around Pam's upper arm.

"A family of martyrs," Tucker sneered. "You wanna die? Fine. I'll kill you all. I'll kill you, and you, and you, and you—" He swung the gun up to Mike's forehead.

Finally, Scotty's body unfroze. He lunged forward shoving Mike out of the way. The two of them went sprawling against the wall as the bullet shattered the window behind them. Screams broke out, though no one dared to move.

Crushing glass under his shoes, Scotty leaped to his feet, whirling around to face Tucker. He stood poised to lunge at him but he froze abruptly.

Tucker had dragged Pam forward, his forearm under her neck, the gun pressed against her temple. Scotty didn't dare move, afraid of scaring Tucker into pressing the trigger.

Tucker laughed. "Now what, Detective? Now what're you gonna do?"

He didn't know. He couldn't move. A thousand thoughts whirled through his mind, none of them coherent. Scotty the Detective analyzed the situation and wondered how to turn it to his advantage. Scotty the Man stood petrified.

Fortunately, Tucker didn't seem to be in a hurry. He smiled almost leisurely at Scotty and asked, like they were old friends, "How's Lilly?"

Fury swept through him at the sound of her name rolling off that monster's lips. "Leave her out of this, you bastard," he snarled. The smarter side of him cautioned that it was probably a bad idea to provoke the guy with the gun; the other side told the voice to go to hell.

Tucker only smiled. "She's doing well, I guess. We had a nice date, you know? She liked me and everything. We had some pizza, went to the movies. Too bad she stopped it there. We could have had some more fun."

Despite the anger clenching him, Scotty felt a sudden, supreme wave of relief. Ever since he'd learned of her date, he'd been half-afraid that Lilly had gone that far with Tucker, that she'd given another man something Scotty already thought of as his. But she hadn't. She'd stopped him. And that made all the difference.

"So what's she up to now?" Tucker mused. "She miss me, you think?"

"She ain't gonna rest 'til you're in prison or six feet under," Scotty snarled, fists clenched.

"Oh?" Tucker smiled sardonically. "Maybe I should pay her a visit after this."

Rage roared in his ears, but Scotty kept himself still with an effort. "You do that and I'll kill you."

Tucker raised an eyebrow. "Will you? You, her knight in shining armor?"

The hint of a smile flickered over Scotty's face. A knight in shining armor? Hah! If there was anything he'd learned over the years, it was that Lilly Rush did not need protection. He allowed a cold smile to touch his lips. "Nah, I take it back. You do that and she'll kill you. You get within twenty feet of her, and Lil's gonna shoot you dead on the spot."

Tucker nodded and smiled. "I get the feeling she'd do that. I wouldn't risk it anyway." He lowered the gun slightly and stepped back toward the door with Pam in tow. "Here's what's going to happen. All of you are going to stay here and let me walk out of here. I see anyone coming after me, I'll shoot her, understand?" He dragged Pam roughly next to him, and she let out a terrified whimper.

Scotty held up a hand. "You ain't gonna get away with this, Tucker. Police are probably already on their way. Stop it now, and we won't add kidnappin' to your charges."

Tucker smiled. "I've gone this far already, Detective. I shot two officers yesterday. I won't balk at a little thing like kidnapping." He reached the threshold of the door and paused. "But I probably can't count on you to stay put, can I? You're a police officer. You'll call in all your buddies and send out alerts. Now I can't have that, can I?"

He didn't leave any time for an answer. One arm around Pam, his expression hard, the entire room silenced by terror, Tucker swung up his arm and, his face still contorted in that twisted smile, pulled the trigger once.