The morning of the fourth of July, Riley woke with a head-ache the size of Europe. She slid gingerly out of bed and wobbled on unsteady feet before a wave of nausea had her racing for the bathroom. After unceremoniously emptying her stomach into the toilet, she crawled into the shower and sat on the cool, tiled floor for a moment. ?Jesus,? she whispered. ?I didn't even drink last night. What the hell?? She pulled herself to her feet and completed her morning ablutions without further puking, a small gift when one is pregnant.

After drying off, she padded naked and barefoot into her bedroom, selected Coldplay's X&Y CD and turned on her stereo. Her room was soon filled with Chris Martin's distinctive voice. She sang along softly as she went into her closet and stood staring unseeing at her clothing. Two things had struck her and had her deep in thought. One, Rhys hadn't called her back last night. In fact, no one had been able to get through to him ? not her, not Baron, not John. Two, if Riley wore black to Orla's memorial service, she felt certain that Orla's ghost would rise up and give her such a talking to. In the short time that Riley had known Orla, she had never seen the old woman wear black.

Sighing softly, Riley selected a green and white plaid sundress and got dressed quickly. Green was Orla's favourite colour ? she always said it reminded her of the hills in her native Ireland. Ireland...Riley sighed again. She now owned a small house and some land somewhere in County Meath, along with Orla's cabin in Tucson and Orla's investment portfolio. She closed her eyes and shook her head, irrational anger rising up in her chest. She'd happily give up all of it just to have Orla back.

After dressing and slipping on a pair of sandals with four-inch heels, she smirked a little; wearing these shoes would mean that only Deacon would be taller than she was at the service. Riley returned to her bathroom, still singing along with the CD, and did her hair and make-up, being careful only to use waterproof eye make-up. She knew that before the day was over, she'd cry herself dry.

She returned to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her cell phone which lay silent on the bedside table. She picked it up and frowned when she saw that there had been no missed calls. She dialed Rhys's number and waited for him to answer or for her call to be sent to voice mail. The line just rang and rang and rang ? the same problem she'd had last night. ?Fuck,? she swore. ?Damn it, Rhys. I need you today.?

Coldplay's ?Fix You? started and Riley blinked back tears when she heard the lyrics, ?And the tears come streaming down your face/When you lose something you cannot replace/When you love someone but it goes to waste/Could it be worse?? She stuffed her phone and a packet of tissues into her bag and went to the stereo. She stood with her finger on the ?off? button and just let the song play out. She sang along softly with the final lines, ?Lights will guide you home/And ignite your bones/And I will try to fix you? and then turned off the stereo.

Deacon was sitting in her kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee and reading the paper. She went to her refrigerator and poured herself a tall glass of orange juice and took it to the counter across from Deacon. ?Did you stay here last night?? She looked him over carefully; he was wearing a tan linen suit, a light yellow shirt and a darker tan tie with a gold-coloured fleur-de-lis pattern. He'd shaven and trimmed his hair. Only someone familiar with him would notice the lines of exhaustion around his eyes.

He looked up at her and flashed her that irritating-yet-oh-so-sexy little grin of his. ?Nope,? he said between sips of coffee. ?I let myself in. You were in the shower.?

Riley chuckled. ?Breaking and entering is a crime, Detective.? She drained the juice and rinsed the glass out, before setting it at the edge of the sink.

?Only if it's reported, Counselor,? he said with a wink. ?C'mon. We're gonna be late. Orla'd have our hides if we show up late.?

She frowned at him. ?Why are you here, Deacon? Why are you being so nice to me? We haven't spoken hardly three words to each other in months and now all of a sudden, you're being all...gentlemanly and stuff. What do you want??

Deacon huffed at her and slid off his bar stool, straightening his tie and smoothing down his suit jacket. ?Look, Ri. Rhys told me to keep an eye on you until he gets here. He...was pretty insistent.? Deacon shrugged and offered Riley his arm. ?I figure hanging around you until he gets here will improve my chances of closing this case. You talk in your sleep, you know,? he said with a smirk.

She slugged him and then slipped her arm through his. ?As if you'll ever get close enough to hear me talk in my sleep. That is a door that is closed, locked and has got boards hammered over it.? She picked up her bag and a white cardigan and led Deacon outside to his police-issue unmarked car, which was parked in her drive. He opened the door for her and she slid inside and fastened her seat belt.

After he'd sat behind the wheel and started the car, he turned to Riley and said with a perplexed look on his face, ?Were you really listening to Coldplay earlier??

?Yes, I was really listening to Coldplay. What's wrong with Coldplay? Jesus, you and Rhys both, ragging on my music.?

Deacon chuckled and pulled out of Riley's driveway. ?What's wrong with Coldplay? What's right with Coldplay? Why don't you listen to some good music, Ri? Led Zeppelin or Blue Oyster Cult or hell, even AC-DC.?

She grinned and sat back. ?Oh, you two are going to get along so well,? she said. ?That is if you can get past the macho pissing contest you'll no doubt engage him in.?

?I'm offended, Counselor. I never piss for contests, and I most certainly am not macho.? He pulled onto River Road and began the short drive to Orla's cabin in the mountains above Tucson.

Riley smirked, ?S?, son muy machistas.?

?Yeah, whatever.? He sobered for a moment and glanced at her. ?You got your speech all ready??

She shook her head and turned to look out the window. ?I didn't write one. I figured I'd just...sorta wing it, I guess.? She closed her eyes and sighed unhappily. ?You know, the last person close to me who died was Andrew. His father asked me to speak at his service. I tried to. I got up in front of a packed church and started to tell the story of how we met and I couldn't get past two sentences before I just lost it.?

?It'll be different this time, Ri.? Deacon's voice was soft and he reached over to take her hand. ?You're older and well, you weren't as close to Orla as you were to Andy. Plus, you know, I'll be there.? He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.

She gave him a tiny half-smile. ?Yeah, I'm sure that'll make all the difference in the world.?