"Inspector Rames," Alex said huskily, "that was very illegal."

He'd propped himself up on one elbow, the sheets tangled around his waist. My gaze trailed down his bare chest. "Mm. Should we do it again?"

The mischief left Alex's eyes. "Amber, we need to talk."

My heart sank. I groaned and rolled away from him, allowing the inevitable truth to creep back into my consciousness. "That didn't work either, did it?"

"No."

"And it was very illegal."

"Yes."

I stared into the darkness for a while. Even like this, when we were no longer touching, I still felt high -- so high that I didn't know if I'd ever come down again.

"Is lust really this strong?" I murmured. Why did we keep risking everything to do this? And why did I still not want to stop even when I reminded myself that it could ruin my life?

"Maybe," Alex said. "Maybe not. I've tried to stay away from you since New Year's Eve, but we only have to be in the same room for me to forget why."

I rolled over and looked at him. "I want you all the time. Not only like this. Even just to hold your hand sometimes..."

We lay in silence for a minute again, watching each other.

"It can't be that hard to keep it a secret," I said. "It's not like we're monitored after dark."

Alex frowned. "Amber...I didn't mean it would be a good idea for us to carry on."

"Why not, if we're normal at work? Why would anyone find out about us?" I sat up so that I was level with him. "You can't tell me you don't think this is going to happen again anyway, one way or another."

He looked away. Eventually, he said, "I wish it didn't have to be like this."

"There's no other option." Short of doing the Trials, at least, but that was out of the question.

The Trials were a way around being charged for the crime of conducting a sexual relationship with your subordinate or superior -- a chance to be honest before you were caught. They'd been introduced by millionaire Carlos Jacqueline fifty years ago after he'd fallen in love with his personal assistant. Instead of her resigning so that she would not be his subordinate, he'd wanted a chance to prove that their relationship would not affect their work. Eventually, the government had agreed to let him fund a new programme.

A unique task was given to every couple based on their occupation, and they had to prove that they could work perfectly as a team despite their relationship. If they passed, they received a government blessing and were quickly married, legally bound together for life. If they failed, they were sent to prison. But in their fifty years of operation, only five couples had ever dared attempt the Trials -- and only Jacqueline and his assistant had passed.

Giving up our jobs was not on the table. Work was too important to us both. But doing the Trials was not on the table either.

Neither was giving up on each other.

"We can't have it all, Alex," I said softly.

"No." He looked at me again. Slowly, he cupped my face in his hands and lowered his head. "So I suppose I choose you."

***

When I returned to my flat much later that night, Mitzy wasn't there. I didn't worry. I was caught up in a cloud of afterglow, my skin tingling everywhere Alex had touched me. It wouldn't be the first night my cat had spent outside -- although she would hate it -- and I tumbled into bed without a second's thought.

But when I'd woken up the next morning and taken a cold shower, worry set in again. I dressed and skipped breakfast, hurrying into the hallway with the intention of looking outside.

Something had been posted underneath my front door so that it was lying face-down on the mat. I approached slowly and turned it over.

What I saw made my heart stop beating.

***

I was the first to arrive in our office, a chocolate bar in my right hand and a paper mug from Coffee Glitch gripped in my left. This one was pink with little hearts bouncing on it, heralding the approach of Valentine's Day. I stared at the animation absently as I paced the room.

Mitzy still hadn't come home. The hand-delivered photograph was in my bag. And my father had just sent me an Xplora message confirming the rumour Clyde had heard.

I was living proof that aggression could run in the blood, and Clyde knew it. How would he caption the photograph he'd given me? Eric Rames, a second-time GBH offender, is pictured here standing with his niece -- Socrico's homicide investigator Detective Inspector Amber Rames. Is this what's destined for her?

I paced and drank coffee, paced some more, and eventually paused long enough to wake up the rear interactive wall and review my sparse notes.

The office door opened while I was reading them, and I turned around to see Alex coming in. My worries fell away for a moment, and I smiled on automatic. "Morning."

He smiled back, but the shadows under his eyes were even darker. Ripley's tablet was in his hands. "Good morning."

"I got you a coffee. It looks like you need it. Did you actually sleep last night?"

"A little." He collected the coffee and held out Ripley's tablet. "I was reading the diary on this."

I took the device. If it had been locked by a password before, it wasn't now, and I stared at a background picture of Ripley and Kristina outside Bright Light University. They looked about eighteen. "Did you find anything interesting?"

"It's exactly as we expected. But..." He hesitated. "It's more like a textbook than a diary. She researched and recorded dozens of methods in detail, taking her time to weigh them up and decide which would be the best. And jumping off a high structure is not in there."

I frowned. "The senior investigating officer still thought the diary was enough for it to be ruled a suicide."

"But it doesn't make sense. And you don't like coincidences."

"Yes, you keep throwing that one at me. Whatever happened, Kristina and Zed were there, which is the strongest link we have between them."

"Ronan might think they had something to do with it. He might be avenging his sister."

"Or he might be thinking of something else." I tapped his picture. "According to Mary, the first victim sold Ronan's architectural plans for a very successful bank to the second victim. Either way, we need to bring him in. He's avoided us long enough."

Alex lifted a hand to his earpiece. "I'll tell the PRBs."

***

Ronan's tracking transmission was finally working. The PRBs found him quite a distance from his flat, talking to some developers who wanted to somehow squeeze something else into Socrico. They brought him back, and we went down to the custody suite.

He was sitting in the first interview room, wearing the same suit we'd met him in. Alex opened the door for me, and I went straight to the table. "Good morning. I hope you don't mind answering a few questions for us."

Ronan glowered. "You can't keep me here! This is harassment!"

I sat down. "You're free to go at any time. When our PRBs found you, they should have told you that coming to the station was voluntary."

"They did," he said. "But they have rifles -- it doesn't look voluntary! I was having a meeting with some potential clients, and I'm really struggling at the moment, so -- "

"If you'd like to go, you can. But we'll have to come and bother you again with our questions a different time. If you answer them now, you'll get them over with."

He sat back in his chair with a sigh. "Fine. Whatever."

I ran through the formalities for the cameras, then said, "I'd like to talk about your ex-wife's university days. The two of you were part of a tight-knit friendship group with Zed Croft, Jasper Jaydes, and Ripley Lewis. Your sister."

Ronan looked between us quickly. "Yes. How do you know?"

"It doesn't matter. Can you think of anything Kristina might have done back then to make enemies? Or Zed, perhaps?"

He paled. "You're talking about Ripley's suicide, aren't you?"

We said nothing.

He dropped his head in his hands. "I told her she needed to get help, but she wouldn't, and I didn't want to pressure her. I know it sounds stupid now, but it's true. Maybe I just never realised how serious she was until... Jesus."

"You believe it was suicide?" Alex asked.

"It was ruled as suicide."

"Rumours suggested otherwise."

"Rumours are rumours." Ronan looked up with a glare. "Do you really think I would have married Kristina if I'd believed she killed my sister? We fixed each other after Ripley died."

"So there's no reason why you'd want her dead?" I asked.

"No. None at all. We parted on good terms."

I rested my forearms on the table. "That's funny, when we've heard that the architectural plans for Duty Bank were yours. You and Kristina dreamed up the idea while you were married, but Kristina sold the plans to Zed Croft. You had a row over it -- and then you divorced."

Ronan's mouth tightened. "Where did you hear that?"

"I'm asking the questions. Is the story true?"

"Yes." He rubbed the back of his head, his jaw clenching.

"So where were you yesterday afternoon when Zed Croft was killed and we were trying to get hold of you?"

His head shot up. "You don't think I -- I wouldn't! I may not have liked Zed, but I never would have done that! And I still loved Kristina."

"I want to know every movement from ten until five."

"Ten until five?"

"We looked for you," Alex said. "And we couldn't find you."

"I was with the same developers. We spent ages talking over their plans and looking around the sites they're hoping to cram flats into. State of the art design that everyone can afford, they said. Could make my career. So I gave them my undivided attention. I was there from nine until...six-ish."

"That's a long day to work just hours after you were informed of your ex-wife's death," I said.

Ronan's nostrils flared. "Well, of course I was upset! But I was just trying to keep moving, you know? And I couldn't let that opportunity slide down the drain. I need the money."

I linked my hands together. "Were you using your tabphone while you were with the developers?"

"No. I'd done a bunch of drawings on paper. You saw all the plans on paper at my flat! I told you that I do them on paper. God, do you ever listen?"

"Always," I said. "And we're very observant. So if we find even the smallest thing linking you to the murders of Kristina Nixon and Zed Croft, we'll be sure to come and get you. Involuntarily." I pushed my chair back to stand.

Ronan's lip curled. "You want to know about Kristina and Zed during their university days? Talk to Mary Daniels. She should be jumping for joy now that they're both dead."

Alex frowned. "Why?"

"Kristina and Zed bullied her. I heard she could hardly hold a job down after we graduated. They left her with severe depression. If she's that affected, why would she go and work for Zed?" Ronan looked at me. "Maybe she was getting ready to exact her revenge."