New York City smoldered beneath the fire of a late August heat wave. Even in early morning hours, the temperature hovered at eight-five degrees, and the city sizzled like meat on a barbecue. The stench of garbage, exhaust fumes and the city’s millions of inhabitants hung like a miasma in the air, making the simple act of breathing intolerable. Rose Jennings stood in the circle of bright lights emanating from a half dozen squad cars, their flashing lights bouncing red and blue rainbows off the murky, sludge-filled waters of the Hudson River. She gathered a section of her skirt hem between her hands and wrung the slimy water from it, disgust evident on her face. The blue tee-shirt she wore clung with leech-like familiarity, outlining her breasts and ribs. As she brushed a strand of her wet blonde hair off her long aquiline face, a tall, Black plainclothes officer came up behind her, the front of his shirt soaked through with perspiration. “Rosie, here, I gotcha a towel from the ambulance,” he said in a honey-smooth drawl. “Thanks, Ray, it will help a bit, but nothing except a good cold shower is going to make me feel better.” She put the towel around her shoulders and used one corner to dry her hair. “Harbor having any luck with the recovery?” “Not yet. The visibility and the position of the car are giving them an issue.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s amazing the girl got out.” “Did they say if she would make it?” Her crystal-blue eyes watched the rescue trucks as they sped away. “They think so. She swallowed a bit of the river, but other than that, she’s fine.” A sharp scraping sound, grating like a scream, caused them to quickly turn. A tow truck was pulling a brown sedan off its precarious perch on the edge of the pier. “You almost followed him right in,” Ray chuckled. Rose laughed. “‘Almost’ isn’t the word. Come on; let’s see if I can grab my gear out of there before they take it away.” They jogged toward the tow truck, waving at the driver to stop. Rose opened the driver’s door and scouted through the broken glass for her pocketbook. “Got it?” Ray asked. “Yeah, here it is. I want to know what he was shooting at me with. Look at this seat.” She gestured to the tattered remnants of the passenger’s seat. Ray whistled softly. “Chalk up another one, Rose. How many cars have you totaled so far this year?” Rose pulled a pack of lemonhead candies out of her purse and popped one into her mouth. The sweet outside, covering the sour lemon shell, and hard core melted in her mouth. “Six, I think, maybe seven. Come on; let’s wait in your car until the harbor unit recovers the driver.” Dawn broke over the Hudson as Rose and Ray alternated between sitting in his car and walking on the wharf, watching the NYPD divers repeatedly scour the water for the car. It was nearly 7:30 a.m. before the divers brought up the corpse from the bottom. Rose stood with Ray watching the operation. “Check out his arms. I’ve never seen one this bad before. They’re completely covered with abscesses,” a uniformed officer noted. “So much for the millions spent on drug interdiction.” Rose turned away, yawning. “Come on, Ray; let’s go wrap up the paperwork and put this baby to rest. I can’t stand myself.” She inhaled and scrunched up her nose. Ray laughed. “I ought to make you ride on the roof.” “Up yours, pal. I’ll keep the window open.” The ME’s van drove past them as they strolled to Ray’s car. “Well, at least we’re through with playing Hairstyle Barbie,” Rose said. “Damn shame,” Ray replied, grinning. “You looked cute in that uniform.” *** Rose climbed the stairs to the loft, her feet dragging heavily. At the door, she juggled her briefcase and pocketbook as she fumbled with the key. Before she could turn it in the lock, the door swung open. “Hey, look who’s finally made it home,” a tall, white dark-haired man quipped. Brian Donovan, Rose’s lover, had lean, rugged features swathed in a meticulously groomed beard. He took the briefcase from her and kissed her lightly on the cheek, his warm chocolate eyes taking in her disheveled appearance. “God, you smell like a sewer.” “Close,” she said, brushing past him into the apartment. “Just the Hudson.” Rose dropped her purse on the sofa and walked to the windows. The room overlooked the waterfront, having once been a factory before it was converted into apartments. The floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the room with copious amounts of sunshine, and Rose fussed with the many plants hung about them. She nipped a dead leaf off a spider plant while Brian poured a cup of coffee. He returned and stood behind her, pulling her into his chest. She leaned her head back to look at him and smiled. He wrinkled his nose. “Look, I was about to go for a jog. Why don’t you grab a shower, and we’ll talk when I get back?” Rose turned in his arms and kissed him, relishing the sharp, tangy taste of toothpaste. “Could you skip your jog? I really need to talk.” Brian brushed the hair back from her face. He looked quizzically at Rose. “What’s wrong? How did you wind up in the river?” He led her to the couch, then settled himself with one lean, hard leg tucked beneath him. Rose stood in front of him for a moment and then walked to the windows again. “I was chasing a suspect on the salon case. He had a hostage and drove right off the pier into the river. I almost followed him right in.” “Totaled another car, huh?” Brian teased. She missed the joke. “The hostage surfaced, and I jumped in to help her out. The hostage got out alive, but we lost the suspect. The divers pulled his body out about 7:30.” She gazed out the window, squinting at the bridges in the distance, and trailed her fingers over a scab on her temple. “Well, it’s over with now.” “The Winthrop mess is still eating at you, isn’t it?” Brian asked. Rose turned toward him and smiled. “Brilliant deduction, Counselor.” She sat in the armchair by the window and pulled off her shoes. “Winthrop’s replacement starts Monday.” She leaned over and rubbed her foot. “Another rookie.” Brian’s eyebrow shot up at the tone of her voice. “Uh-oh, I hear trouble.” Rose laughed. “You know me too well. Bri, it’s just not the same since Marco and I split up. First, Command doesn’t fill the spot for almost a year, which really wasn’t so bad. I’d rather work alone than with someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing. But then they give me Winthrop. Jesus, what a mess he was.” She was quiet for a moment, and Brian waited, his face a picture of patience. “From the moment he walked in, he was nothing but trouble. You know I tried to tell McCauley, but he wouldn’t listen. He thought I was the issue. I think that’s why, this time, they’re sending me a woman. Another mess.” She looked at Brian. “Look at that folder in my bag; it’s on my new partner.” She stood up and stretched. The sun streamed through her thin skirt, silhouetting her long legs. “I’m going to take a shower while you read that.” She headed toward the bedroom. “I’m sorry you had to miss your jog.” Brian smiled. “I’ll just have to get plenty of exercise with you later.” “Count on it.” Rose left him with the file. Rose returned to the living room, a towel tied around her hair and a fluffy robe wrapped around her. “See?” Brian dropped his half glasses on top of the file and pinched the bridge of his nose. Rose’s brow rose. “Bri?” “I wonder if this lady knows what she’s up against with you?” “She was promoted to detective because she placed third high master in the National Police Shooting Competition. She only has three and a half years on the force. Before that, she was a poor little rich girl who paraded around in fancy dresses and made it into NYU,” Rose protested. “You can’t fake a magna cum laude degree.” “I’m not talking about this.” Her stomach growled. Brian walked into their kitchen. “When was the last time you ate?” “Yesterday morning,” she admitted. Brian began to scramble some eggs while she stood behind him, nuzzling his neck gently. “Easy there. Or you’ll have egg on your face instead of in your stomach,” he threatened with mock fierceness. “Can I have some coffee?” she whispered softly in his ear. He dumped the eggs in the sizzling butter and turned around, taking her in his arms. “That’s all I’m good for, huh? Give the old boy toy a little kiss and then ask for coffee?” Rose laughed and leaned her head against his chest. “I wonder what the DA would think if he knew his best assistant was a boy toy to a police detective?” “I’m sure he’d really be confused, considering my personnel file states I’m single.” Brian kissed the top of her head. Rose extricated herself from his arms and sat at the table. “You’re not going to start that again, are you?” Brian poured some coffee and put it before her. “No, I’ve given up on that.” “So,” Rose began, “what do you think of that file on Wallace?” Brian stirred the eggs in the pan and then popped in some bread to toast. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms on his chest. “Truthfully, Rosie, I think she’ll work out just fine.” Rose sighed. “Don’t you think, at forty, I’m a little old to be babysitting?” “Not if you mean to our children, but referring to Wallace as a child is a mistake. She is a sworn police officer, and as of tomorrow, a detective third-grade whether you like it or not, and I’ll bet she’s probably more like you than you’d care to admit.” He began dishing up the eggs and placed a plate in front of her. “Like me, huh? Where do you get that comparison? I grew up here on the streets of Manhattan, not in Chappaqua riding around on show ponies.” Rose stabbed her fork into her eggs. “Well?” She waited. Brian sat across from her, chewing on some toast thoughtfully. “What bothers you more, her money or her gender?” “Neither. What I dislike is the fact that she’s a rookie. Come on, Bri. I started out in East New York and worked my way up as an investigator to the detective squad. Hitting a target and looking pretty on a recruitment poster didn’t get me my promotion. Hard work did,” she said angrily. “So, the issue is how she got where she did, not anything else?” “Stop playing lawyer with me,” Rose replied angrily. “I just feel that, after all these years, I deserve a veteran, like Marco.” “I still think you should give her a chance,” Brian said. Rose grinned wolfishly. “Oh, she’ll have her chance. Little Miss Debutante better know what she’s doing, or I’ll have her back in uniform so fast, she won’t know what hit her.” Brian sighed. “Do you realize you are setting back women’s lib a hundred years?” Rose laughed. “I never believed in that. Why should we be equal when we’ve been superior for all these years?” Brian chuckled and gathered up the dishes. “Well, then, Ms. Jennings, why don’t you get your superior butt in the bedroom, and you can explain your theories in detail?” “Intimate detail?” Rose taunted. “Intimate detail. Now scat so I can do these dishes,” Brian growled. Rose let her robe puddle off her shoulders and stood naked before him. Brian dropped the plates in the sink before he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.