"He never told you, never let on?" Sally Quinlan asked, saluting her with her own glass of chardonnay.

"Never a word. Sure, he would sing me country-and-western songs. But this? I had no idea. Doesn't he look beautiful up there, wearing those boots and that belt with the silver buckle?"

The two women sat back as Ms. Lily, draped in a white silk dress that made her look as epic as Cleopatra, said from the small square stage, "Now listen up, brothers and sisters, even you yahoos we've got here tonight. I've got a special treat for you. We finally got our Savich back. He and Quinlan have agreed to play for us. Take it away, boys."

"This ought to be great," said Marvin, the bouncer, at Lacey's shoulder. "You just sit back and enjoy, Chicky."

Dillon's beautiful baritone filled the smoky bar, his guitar a mellow background, Quinlan's sax running a harmony with the melody. His voice was deep and rich and sexy, carrying clearly to every darkened corner of the club.

What's a man without love?

What's his night without passion?

What's his morning without her smile?

What's his day without her in his mind?

Bring her love to my nights.

Bring her smile to my mornings.

Bring her mind to fill my days.

Just bring her back to me.

What's a man without his mate?

What's his life without her laughter?

What's his soul without her joy?

What's a man without his mate?

Bring her love to my nights.

Bring her smile to my mornings.

Bring her joy to my days.

Just bring her back to me.

Sherlock was crying. She hadn't meant to, didn't even realize she was doing it. Not making a sound, just letting the tears gather and trickle down her cheeks. When the sax and guitar faded out, there was absolute silence in the Bonhomie Club. A woman sighed. A man said, "Ah, shit."

Then the applause came on, really soft and light at first, then gathering momentum. The women were clapping louder than the men.

"It's his cute butt, Sally," Ms. Lily said, leaning over to pat Lacey. "Well, actually, it's both their cute butts. Now, little gal, when are you and my Savich going to get married? I don't allow any gal shacking up with him. He's innocent. I don't want him taken advantage of, you got me?"

"You'll get the invitation next week, Ms. Lily."

"Good. Just maybe Fuzz will bring another bottle of chardonnay that has a real live cork, just like he did for Sally and Quinlan. Your Dillon's real talented, honey. You just let him sing to you and bring him down here once a week. It's good for my soul to hear him wail out his songs. Also, no crooks dare come near the club when the two supercops are playing here.

"Now he's looking at you and he's got that wicked smile on his face. Imagine an FBI agent who could smile at a woman like that. Just goes to show you, doesn't it?

"Well, I'm off to win myself some money in a little poker game. Don't tell my boys about it, will you? Their cop genes just might get scrambled and we don't want them to feel like they're in any moral dilemma."

Quinlan said from the stage, "Savich here is going to get himself married, just like I did. It's about time. Now, we have this song for you that celebrates his short number of bachelor days left. It's called 'Love Surfin'."

Moved myself to the bright blue sea. Knew the change would be good for me. Made enough money in the old rat race,

Sure to die if 1 kept my pace.

Now I'm lying in the warm, soft sand.

Checking all the girls showing lots of tan.

All these girls-what's a guy to do? I want them all, think I'll surf right through.

Going love surfin', Gonna love them all

Love surfin' Heading for a fall

Love surfin' Such a greedy man.

Love surfin' Getting all I can.

Lacey was laughing so hard that when she threw her purse at him, it bounced off Quinlan instead.

Ms. Lily was standing outside of her open office door. She yelled out, "You taking your life in your hands, Savich, what with your chicky being an FBI agent."

Savich was beaming at Lacey. He said into the mike, "My sister wrote that one. I just came up with the music."

"I'll be speaking to your sister," Lacey called out.

"I heard you got an offer on your town house." "Yes. A very good offer. It's a done deal. I'm here to stay now, Dillon."

"Good. Let's get married on Friday."

"That would be nice but I don't think we've got the time to pull it off. How about next month? I promised Ms. Lily that she'd get an invitation. Actually I told her she'd get one next week. Also, my friend MacDougal from the Academy just got back from the desert. I want him to come."