Saturday, August 30

8:24 pm Valle Luna, Az.

Erin pulled slowly into the large parking lot. Night had fallen over the valley, draping its entirety with dark purples and midnight blues which would ultimately mesh into the black of night. She pulled her BMW into a space back near the edge of the parking lot. Leaning back in her seat, she allowed the scent of the near new vehicle to fill her insides. The car, like her, had been one of Mark's perfect representations of the life he wanted everyone to perceive he led.

She closed her eyes and thought how much she would like to trade the BMW in for something more her. Something a little less showy, maybe an SUV. While she was at it, she needed to find herself a place to live as well. Doing these things would ultimately help her to shed her former life, to shed her of Mark and the sorrow filled mundane existence she had led with him.

She opened her eyes and focused on reflections off the windshield. She hoped moving on with her life would also help her to forget the betrayal. She sighed as she thought of the pregnant woman with the dagger stare. The betrayal still stung regardless of how exhausted she was. But it was time to forage ahead, time to forget Mark and all that he encompassed.

She looked around at the rows of cars and the cluster of women waiting at the front entrance. She didn't know how she had ended up here, having driven in sort of a daze after leaving Sinclair's. But here she was, worn out, defeated and unbelievably confused. She had told Henderson that she was going for a drink so maybe that's why she was here, simply for a drink.

She closed her eyes and thought of Adams. Would she be here? Would she talk to her? She opened her eyes again and sat forward, resting her hands on the steering wheel. The mere thought of Adams sent her heart hammering in her chest. She breathed in deeply and tried to relax, but it was useless. She sighed and clenched the steering wheel with white knuckles. She needed a drink and nothing and no one was going to stop her from getting it.

…. ….. ……. ……. ……. ……. …….. …….. …….. …….. ……… ……. …….

"All I'm saying is that we can't just let her go off on her own." Sinclair insisted as she poured Henderson and herself a Coke for some much needed caffeine.

"I don't see that we have much of a choice." Henderson took the glass gratefully and sipped at it as Sinclair made herself comfortable on the couch across from her.

"We do have a choice. We can go after her." The new detective stated simply.

Henderson shook her head. "What for? She's needs some time to herself."

Sinclair sat in silence, eventually setting her drink down on the coffee table. "Do you trust her?" She asked, meeting her eyes.

"Absolutely, why wouldn't I?" Her voice hit a higher pitch, showing resentment in having being asked such a question.

"Do you trust Adams?" Sinclair asked, pressing forward, ignoring Henderson's counter question.

Henderson sat there, the cold Coke glass wrapped in her hands. "There was a time when I would have said absolutely not." She said as she raised the glass to take another sip. "But now, after finding out that she saved Mac's life, I'm…well I guess I'm not sure."

"Don't you wonder why Adams was at your house the night of the shooting to begin with?"

Henderson swallowed hard and met the light brown eyes. "I try not the think about it." She answered softly. "And besides, Mac said it was to stop the real killer."

"But if she knew the real killer's identity and she's as innocent as she says she is, then why didn't she tell the police about it…at the very least to clear her own name?"

"I…I don't know." Henderson said, shaking her head.

"She knows something." Sinclair stated. "She knows more than she's letting on. And I'm afraid your friend Mac does too."

Henderson jerked her head up as soon as the words were said. She reached out and set her glass down before returning her hands to clasp them together in her lap.

"Now wait a minute, Audrey. I know you're new here, but I think you're a little out of line with regards to Mac…" She was trying her best to speak calmly to the attractive detective. But her reserve was dangerously spiraling out of control as the conversation made its turn for the worse.

"Yes, I am new here." Sinclair clarified, interrupting Henderson. "But I'm also a detective. And I have strong reason to believe that your girl Mac is keeping something from us, along with Adams."

"You don't know what you're saying." Henderson breathed out, completely shocked by the accusation.

"Then how do you explain her behavior at the station today? The secrecy, the little remarks between her and Adams..."

"She's exhausted!" Henderson declared, rising up to her feet. "You don't know what she's been through." She said as she began to pace the room. The flood gates were now open and adrenaline and panic began cascading through them, flooding over into her bloodstream.

"What she's been through doesn't explain the secrecy, Patricia." Sinclair said, in a softer tone. She hated having to voice her concerns to the beautiful writer, a woman who obviously cared so much for one of the key players. And as she watched her pace and wring her hands, she knew she had to. Not only was it her job, but Patricia's life very well could be at stake if she wasn't made aware. With a sigh along with regret, she said softly, "I think there's something going on between her and Adams."

Henderson heard the words but she didn't trust herself to respond right away. She walked over to the window and glanced out at the darkening parking lot below.

"Look, there are things you don't know about Mac which could easily explain her behavior today." She said, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Like what?" Sinclair asked from behind, her voice revealing her disbelief.

Henderson turned to face the tall blonde. "Like the fact that Mac had her first intimate experience with a woman…with Adams." She finished in a whisper. She hated divulging Mac's private life to a near stranger but she didn't know what else to do. Sinclair didn't know Mac and she was jumping to all the wrong conclusions. She held the detective's brown eyes before continuing. "As you most likely know, that first experience can be a very powerful one. And it can create an incredible bond between the two women which suggests that right now, Mac is probably still very much enamored with Adams. Not to mention the fact that she just recently remembered that Adams saved her life."

She stopped talking, her voice almost too weak to go on. She searched Sinclair's handsome face while placing her hands on her hips. She so badly needed for the woman to hear her, to understand, desperately so.

"She's admitted to sleeping with Adams?" Sinclair asked immediately and with obvious concern.

"Well, yes." She stammered, more than a little surprised that that was all Sinclair gathered from her short speech. "She confided that to me while we were up at the cabin." She walked back over to the couch, careful to leave out the uncompromising circumstances she had been in with Mac when the confession came out.

Sinclair stood suddenly and sighed, running her hands through her hair.

"What is it?" Henderson asked, watching her from her place on the couch.

This time it was Sinclair who walked over to the window to stare out into darkness. A long silence ensued before she finally spoke. "It has been reported to me from an outside source that Erin Mackenzie is involved with Adams. Not just on a personal level, but in regards to this case."

"WHAT?" She asked loudly, rising back to her feet. She stood there trembling in complete disbelief. "Reported to you….reported by who?"

"I'm not saying she had anything to do with the murders…" Sinclair said, raising her hands in attempt to diffuse.

"Then what are you saying?" Henderson demanded, furious at what she was hearing.

"That maybe she's been covering for Adams all along." She turned away from the window and looked at Henderson. "Don't you think it's rather convenient that she claims to have not remembered the events of that night?"

"She suffered memory loss due to post traumatic stress syndrome." Henderson declared.

"Which isn't that difficult to fake if someone wanted to."

"Why would she fake it?" Henderson clenched her fists at her sides and began pacing wildly once again. The idea of Mac faking the horror she had seen her go through seemed absolutely preposterous and it infuriated her that someone would even think she would do such a thing.

"To cover for Adams." Sinclair said, watching Henderson pace. She had known that telling her would be difficult, but seeing just how upset the writer was first hand was disheartening, making her second guess her decision to tell her.

"But she ultimately did remember." She looked over at Sinclair as she said the words. "Guess that blows your theory, detective."

"Not in the slightest." She returned to her seat on the couch and sipped her coke, wishing Henderson would calm down long enough to listen. "She most likely didn't tell us right away in order for Adams and whomever else to tie up loose ends. And what's more is the possibility that she still didn't tell us the whole truth today when she claimed to remember. You were there; you saw the way they behaved together. Why do you think Ruiz lost his head today? Not just because he was upset, but because he, like you, didn't want to believe it either. But I'm afraid Mac's behavior today supports what I've been told. "

"Let's go back to that detective." Henderson said, walking over to stand in front of her. "What exactly have you been told and by whom?" She crossed her arms as she waited for the answers.

Sinclair looked up at her and spoke softly. "Because you are no longer in the department and on this case, I'm hesitant to reveal my source."

"Then why tell me at all?" She demanded.

"Because you are too close to this case. And because I fear for you."

She scoffed and walked over to the couch to plop down. She couldn't believe what she was hearing and worse than that she couldn't make Sinclair see just how ludicrous her suspicions were. She lay gazing up at the ceiling feeling overwhelmed and defeated.

"You're wrong detective." She finally said in between the clenching of her jaw. The information was too much to comprehend, too much to handle all at once. Her heart thudded madly in her chest and her head hurt from the mental strain. She absolutely could not believe what she was hearing.

"Then let's go find her tonight." Sinclair said, as Henderson turned her head to look at her with angry, blazing blue eyes. "Let's go prove me wrong."

"If you want my help tonight, then you'll tell me your source." She said unwavering from the couch.

Sinclair held her eyes for a long moment. "I'll tell you only what I think I can afford to divulge."

"Then it will only warrant a car ride tonight from me. Nothing more."

"Deal." Sinclair said before continuing. "I've been receiving phone calls from an anonymous female for the past couple of weeks. They started as soon as I arrived here in Valle Luna. At first, I didn't think much of them. I thought maybe they were pranks. But eventually she began to tell me things that I couldn't ignore."

"Like what?" Henderson asked, sitting up.

"I'm not at liberty to say." Sinclair said. "I will say that as of today, I have reason to believe that she is a very credible source."

"Is that all you want to tell me?" Henderson asked.

Sinclair shook her head. "At this time."

"With that being said detective, I think you should just go ahead and tell me that your source is Kristen Reece." She watched Sinclair look up at her as she said the words.

"Why would you…" She started.

"Please." Henderson said, standing. "Like you, Sinclair, I'm a detective. I always will be." She walked over to the door and opened it. "It's ok. You don't have to tell me."

"Where are you going?" Sinclair asked a little dumbfounded.

"We had a deal remember?"

Erin slammed the car door shut behind her and headed into the throbbing all women establishment. She walked with her shoulders back and proud, her jaw clenched, making her way to the bar. The bartender came immediately to her with a smile.

"What can I get you?" She asked, leaning on the bar.

"Kamikaze shooter." Erin replied, over the loud music. "Make it three." She insisted to the soft butch behind the bar.

"Something scary chasing you, darling?" She asked, trying to touch her hand.

Erin pulled back not wanting to be touched and dug into her pocket for money. "Just give me the drinks." She said tossing her money on the bar.

"Hey, ok." The woman with the short brown hair said, before quickly tended to her drink. Erin looked around somewhat impatiently as she waited for the woman to slide her shot glasses across the bar.

"Get me off" by the Basement Jaxx slammed seductively into her ears as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the club. The laser and the lights pulsed across the dance floor in tune with the music.

"Here you go." The bartender said, placing the three shot glasses in front of her in a neat little row.

"Keep the change." Erin said without looking up. She downed the glasses one at time, one right after the other.

As the alcohol warmed down her chest and into her belly, she moved away from the bar and headed over to the dance floor. The music called to her and she suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to dance her troubles away. With her heart pounding in tune with the beat, she reached up and felt at the suddenly stifling material of her flannel shirt. She had worn the shirt down from the cooler cabin earlier that day and up until now she hadn't realized just how warm the material was. Suddenly feeling hot and somewhat suffocated, she tore the shirt free of her body, not caring about the buttons in the least. Her vision was on the dance floor and she peeled the shirt free from her arms and flung it in a dead heap onto the floor.

The thin white tank top she wore underneath was soaked through with sweat and the air on her wet skin felt remarkable. She breathed deeply in response to the freeing sensation as she made her way with a purpose to the center of the dance floor. As she began to dance, with her arms held over her head, she closed her eyes and allowed her hungry and lonely soul to be fed by the music.

…………… …………. ………….. ……………… …………. ………… ……….

"What!" She yelled as the pounding on her door continued. She pushed herself up off the bed and staggered to the door. She had finally fallen asleep only to be disturbed by the thundering knocks outside her private room.

With her sleepiness quickly giving way to anger, she yanked open the door. Tyson stood, looking a little unsure and more than a little frightened as he looked at the fury written on her face.

"Sorry to disturb you Ma'am." He said.

"What is it Tyson?" She asked, her voice heavy with sleep. She hoped it didn't have anything to do with the police. As strong as she prided herself in being, she didn't think she had anymore reserve strength left the deal with them.

"There's someone here I think you should know about." He said, gaining a little more confidence but worried at how tired his employer looked.

"Jesus." She let out with tired frustration. She pushed the door open further, giving him access, before she turned to make her way back inside the room.

She walked over the bar and readied herself a glass, not yet bothering to look up at the numerous television monitors. She heard Tyson close the door softly behind him as he made his way into the room.

"So who is it this time? Another fat cop? Another god damned detective?" She asked as she filled her glass with Red Bull. Whoever it was, she knew the situation would probably require her presence. Otherwise Tyson wouldn't have bothered her. She sipped the strong tasting liquid, wishing it would feed her cells full of some much needed energy.

"Yes ma'am." He said softly. "A detective."

"Great." She said as she made her way to the couch where she sat down and propped up her bare feet.

"I thought you would want to know." He said as he watched her.

"Yes, thank you." She said as she sipped her Red Bull. "So what do they want?"

"I'm not sure ma'am." He said, eyeing the sweat pants and wrinkled t-shirt she had obviously fallen asleep in. He wondered why she wasn't at her home in the hills. It certainly would be a more practical and quiet place to get some rest.

"Well, where are they?" She asked, finally looking up at her head of security.

"Making their way through the dance floor." He answered.

"What?" She asked, not sure she heard him right.

"They're on the dance floor. She's really pushing her way through…" Tyson repeated, as if he too, were in disbelief.

"Her way?" Adams asked, rising up from the couch to head over to the monitors.

"Yes ma'am."

Adams stopped before the monitors, scanning them quickly with alerted eyes.

"How long has she been here?" she asked, having to clear her tight throat to speak.

"Not long."

"Has she said anything?" She asked, finally tearing her eyes away from the monitors.

"No." He replied, noticing the brief flash of frustration on her usually stoic face. "Only her insistence that she be allowed entry."

Adams had already moved to her closet to rifle through her clothes, tossing a few shirts on the bed.

"Would you like me to tell her that her presence is requested up here?" He asked, turning away from her as she began to hastily strip off her clothes. He had seen her in various forms of undress over the years, but his eyes still couldn't handle the searing images of her beautifully muscled body. His employer was an amazingly attractive woman and it was times like these that he had to remind himself that she was strictly his boss and never would or could be anything more. And if he allowed himself to ogle at her physical form, innocently or not, it would jeopardize his ability to do his job in the excellent manner in which he prided himself upon.

"No." She said, making her way to the shower. "I will see to her myself."

"Very well." He said, just before he heard the shower come to life with rushing water. He let himself out of the private room to continue on with overseeing the clubs security and leaving his boss to ready herself for the detective she knew so well.

"Do you see her?" Henderson asked in a loud strained voice over a few dancing heads to Sinclair.

The taller detective shook her head and then pointed across the dance floor to a cluster of women they hadn't yet examined.

As Henderson began to make her way through more women, "Master and Servant" by Depeche Mode began blasting through the speakers into the club.

She looked up and watched as the women on the platforms moved seductively against one another. They were wearing 1940's apparel, with a member from each couple wearing a zoot suit, topped off with a fedora hat pulled down at an angle over their eyes. Their counterparts in the newsboy hats wore see through tank tops with suspenders to hold up the wide legged, high wasted worker pants. The women in the newsboys busied themselves undressing the suited women, ultimately exposing a large strap on dildo within their pinstripe pants. She looked away as the women in the newsboys began sucking on the dildos.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" A deep voice asked from behind.

Henderson stopped and turned, instantly recognizing the sultry voice.

"I think you know why I'm here." She responded, trying hard not to stare at the dark woman with the damp, midnight hair.

"To harass me some more?" Adams said, raising a black eyebrow.

Henderson gave a short laugh. "Harass you? No, I wouldn't waist my time. You're not worth it."

"Then why are you here detective?" Adams crossed her arms. "Oh, excuse me; it isn't detective anymore is it?"

Henderson glared at her, looking past the muscled arms and the sleeveless blue buttoned down shirt that so perfectly matched her eyes.

"Where is she?" Henderson finally managed to ask, looking beyond Adams to Sinclair as she approached. She believed Erin was there but not for the malicious reasons Sinclair believed. She believed that Erin was there simply out of lust and wonderment, if not merely to escape her current life problems with a drink.

"Where's who?" Adams asked, barely glancing at the other detective as she came to stand by Henderson.

"Mac." Henderson stated with hatred in her voice. Adams could act uncaring and aloof with anyone else she wanted to, but Henderson wouldn't let her act that way about Erin.

"Who?" Adams asked, eyeing Tyson who stood not far behind Henderson.

"Erin Mackenzie." Sinclair clarified.

Adams felt her face soften at the name. She looked around the club, suddenly anxious to see the young blonde.

"I don't know." She said, looking back to the detectives. "I haven't seen her."

"Bullshit!" Henderson seethed. "She said she was going for a drink and I know she's here."

Adams stared at Henderson, letting her arms fall to her sides. She had no idea why the detective was so angry, especially in regards to Erin Mackenzie. As she stared at her former lover, she saw Tyson walk away from behind the women and disappear into the crowd.

"Look, I'm telling you the truth. I haven't seen her." She said as she watched Sinclair and Henderson exchange a worried and disbelieving look. She had known Patricia well at one time, well enough to know that the woman didn't upset easily over nothing. With this in mind, she suddenly became worried that something was terribly wrong. Why else would they be looking for Erin?

"Is something wrong?" Adams asked, her heart suddenly pounding. "Is she…ok?"

"Why? You give a shit?" Henderson asked, whipping her head around to glare at her some more.

"I…" Adams started and then let the words fall back down into her tight throat, knowing it was useless to proceed. "Look around the club all you want." She said, once again squaring her shoulders. "She's not here." She made her way quickly past the questioning women and headed to the other side of the dance floor.

"This is ridiculous." Henderson said to Sinclair as they watched Adams walk away. "I told you Mac isn't involved."

"Is it though?" Sinclair asked. "Ridiculous? You saw how concerned she became as soon as she found out we were looking for Mac. I don't think that's just a coincidence. And what about how quickly she came down here to greet us? Erin's probably up in her room right now as we speak."

"No." Henderson said, disagreeing. "She's not here."

"How can you be so sure?" Sinclair asked her, not ready to give up.

"Because Adams is willing to let us look around. I've never known her to do that. So I have a feeling that if we asked her, she would let us see her private room tonight. She seems more than willing to cooperate." Almost too willing.

"Then let's go ask to see it." Sinclair said.

"No." Henderson said, stopping her. "Mac's not here. And if we go demanding to be let in to Adam's private room, don't you think it will set off more alarms in her? If you're right and she does have something to hide in this investigation, then I can guarantee you she's over there right now, trying to figure out why we're here. Adams is smart, Audrey. Way smarter than your average felon."

Sinclair thought for a moment in silence as she watched the dark woman talking to her head of security across the dance floor. "Maybe she's got her somewhere else." She finally said.

"Maybe she doesn't have her anywhere at all. Maybe Mac really just went out to blow off some steam." Henderson said, trying to convince the new detective as well as herself.

"I hope your right, Patricia." Sinclair said, turning to meet her eyes briefly before returning them to watch Adams. "But I just don't buy it. I think we should head over to her house in the hills, check it out, see if we get any movement."

"Why? Because you think she's got Mac there?" Henderson shook her head in disbelief. "If she does have Mac there we'll never know it. She's got that place rigged like Fort Knox and I'm not about to go and sit out there with my thumbs up my ass all night waiting outside the gate." She was tired and frustrated and she didn't feel like continuing this wild goose chase. "So if you want it done, I suggest you call in one of the other teams to do it."

Sinclair stood in silence with her arms crossed over her chest. "The higher ups are insisting that this case is closed. The department isn't able to spend anymore resources on it."

"Ha! So I'm not only one who thinks this needs to be dropped."

"Come on, Patricia." Sinclair said, looking at her.

"Wait a minute, you're saying that even with your little phone source, they're still insisting it's closed?" She asked, bewildered.

"Yes. We still can't get anything to stick to Adams."

"Jesus." Henderson declared. "This is nuts! What am I even doing here?"

"You're still a cop, detective, just like you said. You always will be whether you're off writing best sellers or not. And I know that there are things about this case that are eating away at you. I can see it in your eyes. Ignoring them won't make it go away."

"What are you, a public service announcement?" She let out in frustration.

"Fine." Sinclair said facing her. "If you're going to continue to take that stand then at the very least come with me to prove me wrong. Help me find Mac and prove to me that she isn't secretly seeing Adams."

Henderson looked into the light brown eyes of a stubborn and determined Sinclair. She knew the woman was wrong about Mac and possibly even wrong about Adams. But still, all the things Sinclair had brought to her attention that night kept nagging at her mind. And as she turned to walk with Sinclair back out to the front entrance, she realized she was going to help, but not to disprove the new detective or anyone else. She was going to help because she needed the truth.

"I overheard your conversation with the detectives." Tyson said, stepping closer to talk to his boss.

"Yeah." Adams said, still watching the two women from across the dance floor.

"They're here looking for that cute blonde, right?"

"Yes." She said, not quite interested in where he was going.

"They said she went out for a drink."

"So far you're batting a thousand Tyson." She said, looking over at him. "Now tell me your point because I know you have one."

"Well after hearing that I took the liberty of calling over to Chasity's."

She turned completely towards him, her interest peaked. Chasity's was the only other lesbian bar in Valle Luna. Located just down the street, it was a tiny establishment with just a bar, a small dance floor and a pool room. With La Femme's size, funding and popularity, no one else seemed to want to compete by opening a bar. But Chasity had opened her bar fifteen years ago before La Femme and she still had her regulars.

"And?" She impatiently asked, needing to know.

"She's there." He said.

Adams stood straighter at the revelation, her body instantly ready to go as Tyson continued.

"And Chasity said she's already cut her off. Said she's drunk and barely able to walk much less dance. I asked her not to kick her out, told her that you would be there shortly to get her."

She took a hurried step away from him, anxious to go. "Thanks." She said, giving him a sincere smile. "Will you please escort the detectives around while I'm gone? Including my private quarters, to show them that she's really not here?"

"Yes ma'am." He said moving away towards the two detectives, reaching them just before they hit the door.

"Excuse me, ladies." His thick voice thundered out, getting their attention. "I've been instructed to show you around the club. Anywhere you wish to go, I will make sure you have access."

Henderson opened her mouth to speak as if you to say "I told you so" but instead just looked at Sinclair and shrugged.

"Thank you, I think we'll take you up on that." Sinclair said, ignoring Henderson.

Adams pulled her Harley Davidson to a stop behind the small bar just a few blocks down the way from hers. As she killed the engine, she could hear the loud music drifting out from the door, which had always been left open just a crack during business hours. She dismounted the black and chrome machine and walked the short distance around the white brick building to the door.

A sign was mounted by the entrance, warning that no one under the age of twenty one would be admitted. But as she pulled open the door, no bouncer stood to check I.D. Only the eyes of the few patrons turned to examine her as she walked in.

"Hey, Liz!" Chasity called out from behind the bar. Adams looked over to her right at the bar and made her way over to tall chairs.

"Chas, long time no see." She greeted as she shook the older woman's hand.

"No shit, man." She said with her warm brown eyes. "So how you been?"

"Better." She responded, offering no more.

Chasity reached down with her hands to brush at her 1950's diamond patterned buttoned down shirt, feeling suddenly self conscious in front of the gorgeous Adams.

"Does that cute little blonde have anything to do with that?" She asked, looking past Adams to the dance floor where Erin stood swaying to music obviously very intoxicated. She took an immediate step to go after her when Chasity stopped her.

"Here's her shirt." Chas said, handing Adams the discarded flannel shirt from behind the bar. The dark woman took the shirt and ignored the questions in her old friend's eyes. Instead, she turned to focus on the dancing drunk woman, moving all alone to the music on the small dance floor.

With concern in her eyes, she made her way to the dance floor, stepping up in front of the intoxicated blonde.

"Hi." She said, suddenly unsure as to what to say to the dancing woman who swayed with her eyes closed, obviously lost in her own little world.

Erin opened her eyes and looked around. She, and one other, appeared to be the only ones on the small dance floor. She looked up at the other woman who was standing before her.

"Hi yourself." She said with a sloppy grin, recognizing Adams and poking at her chest with a finger. "Wait a minute!" She suddenly declared. "I'm not at your club, I left your club." She looked around hastily, suddenly lost in her surroundings. "What are you doing here?" She asked, stepping closer to touch the dark woman's strong arms. "Are you real?" She slurred out and then laughed hysterically. "Or are you just a figment of my inagiation…imagination." She corrected just before laughing again.

"I'm real." Adams said, hugging the blonde to her, trying to steady her. "And you're drunk."

"Ohmygod really?" She asked with sarcasm, looking around with wide eyes as if she couldn't believe the possibility.

"Come on, let's go." Adams said, trying to lead her off the dance floor.

"Where to?" Erin asked, dragging her feet. "I wanna dance." She declared, flailing her arms dramatically.

"You've danced enough."

"I wanna dance some more." She said, stopping in her tracks, resisting the stronger woman. Adams looked down at her and eased up on her grip. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt her.

"Gah," Erin let out as she looked up into the darker woman's face. "You are so fucking gorgeous, ya know that?" She asked, slurring, trying to touch her face.

Adams grabbed at her hand, stopping her before she most likely poked her eye. Then quickly, and with relative ease, she hoisted the drunk blonde up and over her shoulder.

"Hey!" Erin yelled into the shirt on the stronger woman's back. "This isn't dancing!"

Adams walked the short distance back to the bar where she tossed a hundred dollar bill on the glossy wood counter.

"Sorry for the trouble, Chas." She said, looking at her old friend. "Will that cover her tab?" She asked, referring to the hundred.

"She's already paid up." Chas responded, wondering who the young blonde was to warrant such a response from Elizabeth Adams.

"Then, I'm sure that will cover the trouble she's caused." She said, feeling Erin try to resist briefly before giving up.

"Nah, man. She wasn't any trouble. Entertaining maybe, but no trouble." A few of the other patrons at the bar voiced up and agreed with the bar owner.

"Then, for your hospitality, drinks are on me." She said, refusing to retrieve her money. As she turned with the blonde slumped over her shoulder, she heard the hearty thanks from the women seated at the dim bar.

She walked out into the night and approached her bike where she set Erin down. She steadied her before she let go of her arms.

"You alright?" She asked her, trying to get her to focus on her eyes.

"Fucking fabulous." Erin slurred out, grabbing her forehead, as a wave of dizziness surged through her. She closed her eyes and leaned into Adams and swallowed back some nausea.

"You up for a ride dancing queen?" Adams asked, looking down into her face. Erin stood on her own once again and watched as Adams bent down to start the bike.

"Very funny." Erin answered as she stared at the large motorcycle. "I don't think I can." She said a little louder over the roar of the engine.

"Sure you can." Adams said, swinging her denim clad leg over the bike. "You can ride in front." She scooted back on the seat and motioned for Erin to climb on in front of her. She wasn't about to let the intoxicated blonde ride behind her. She was too afraid she would fall off.

Having little other choice in the matter, Erin shrugged, then staggered and then climbed on the bike.

"Here, put on your shirt." Adams said, helping the blonde to shrug into the warm flannel.

Too drunk to think about anything serious, she let the shirt warm her skin and allowed her mind to concentrate on the feel of Adams pressed up against her from behind. She watched as the dark woman reached out with her strong arms surrounding her as she grabbed the handle bars.

Erin grinned uncontrollably as her skin awakened, loving the feel of the dark woman's thighs encasing her, of the breasts pressing into her back. She inhaled the scent of her, instantly knowing what it was. As they drove off from the small lesbian bar, Erin leaned back into Adams, closing her eyes, loving the feel of the wind, and the feel of the beautiful woman behind her.

They hadn't traveled very far when Erin suddenly felt the bike slow down. She opened her eyes and watched as they pulled into a corner convenient store. Adams parked the bike and cut off the engine before she quickly and easily dismounted.

"Why are we here?" Erin said, blinking away her impending headache.

"I'll be right back." Adams said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before she walked away to head inside the small corner store.

As she waited, Erin let her hands rest on the tank of the bike. She swallowed back more nausea while listening to the drone of the traffic behind her. She rubbed her temples and thought to herself that perhaps she shouldn't have had the sixth shot after all, not to mention the two vodka chasers she had insisted upon.

With the thought of alcohol making her sick, she instead tried to concentrate on the beautiful and mysterious dark woman that had shown up surprisingly to rescue her. She had no idea as to why Adams had come to get her, but drunk as she was, the idea of being with the dark woman once again, instantly excited her, encouraging her to sober up. Willing her constitution to return, she was suddenly very eager to be with the gorgeous woman on any level.

"Here." Adams said with a soft smile as she returned to the bike. Erin looked up and took the brown paper bag the dark woman handed her.

"What is it?" She asked, curious as to what was in the bag.

"Stuff that will help."

Adams climbed back onto the bike behind Erin and started the engine. Erin held fast to the bag as they roared back into traffic and headed away from the heart of the city.

Before long, the night air became cooler as they left the hot city streets behind. Adams drove them north until they hit some surrounding mountains just beyond the suburbs. Unlike her home in hills, the mountains to the north of Valle Luna had yet to be developed by home builders and she wove the bike up a popular mountain in the heart of a desert preserve.

Erin recognized the protected park as they climbed up the paved road. She had never been to the tops of the park mountains and she was awed by the breathtaking view of the valley below.

Adams slowed the bike as they hit the top where a large level area opened up into a fantastic view of the city below. She parked the bike parallel to the drop off so they both could enjoy the view.

She cut off the engine and encouraged Erin to turn around on the seat.

Erin reluctantly stood, hating to be out of the stronger woman's arms. Still holding on to the bag, she repositioned herself on the bike, looking directly into the beautiful face of Elizabeth Adams.

"Go ahead, look in the bag." She said. "I have a feeling you're going to need it."

Erin opened up the bag and pulled out a twenty ounce bottle of coke, some aspirin and two small bags of potato chips.

"What's all this?" She said, suddenly craving the coke.

"My own little hangover prevention kit." Adams said with a smile. "Thought you could use it."

Erin unscrewed the coke bottle and took a swig. "Thanks." She said.

"I know it's a little unconventional, but the coke always helped to settle my stomach and the chips always sated my salt cravings.

"Sounds like you've had a few wild nights." Erin said playfully.

Adams chuckled. "One or two."

"Uh huh." Erin said, taking another sip of coke, before looking back up into the incredible blue eyes.

"So why did you come get me?" She asked, suddenly curious. "How did you even find me?"

"Your two detective friends came to see me tonight at La Femme."

"Who? Henderson?" Erin asked, her mind suddenly sober and flying.

"And the other one, the tall blonde." Adams confirmed.

"Why?" She asked, suddenly concerned and worried that Adams was once again being harassed. "I told them that you didn't do anything, they should leave you al…"

"They were looking for you." She interjected.

"For me?" Erin asked with obvious surprise. She looked away from the blue eyes in thought.

"Patricia sounded upset and I thought you might be in trouble, so I came looking for you."

"Why would I be in trouble?" Erin had no idea what was going on with Henderson and she suddenly felt anxious butterflies beginning to flutter about in her stomach.

"Well considering the condition I found you in, I would say I was right."

"I just wanted a drink." She said and then realized she didn't need to explain. "Why was Henderson so upset?" She asked, still completely thrown by what Adams had just told her.

"I don't know." She answered honestly. "When I told her I hadn't seen you she got real upset, like she didn't believe me."

"She probably didn't." She said, knowing how much Henderson despised and distrusted Adams.

"Probably not." She admitted.

Erin sat in silence, thinking and re-thinking about Henderson and what she could possibly want. She felt in her back pocket for her cell phone and pulled it out. She flipped it open and saw that she had missed one call, a call from Henderson. There was no message. It certainly wasn't anything to cause great alarms. If something were really wrong, wouldn't Henderson have kept trying to reach her? Wouldn't she have left a hurried voice message, beckoning her to return her call as soon as possible? She closed her phone and slid it back into her pocket.

"You know, I felt bad tonight, when I saw you like that. I feel like it's my fault." Adams said as she looked into her eyes. Seeing the young detective so obviously impaired and hurting had tugged strongly on her heart. A feeling she wasn't used to experiencing.

"Your fault?" Erin asked, confused, not seeing how it could've possibly been the fault of anyone other than herself.

"Yes." Adams said. "That maybe you're all torn up inside over what you did for me."

Erin shook her head. "I did the right thing by you." She said, meeting her eyes. "I won't lie to you and tell you that it hasn't caused me some grief and possibly more in the future. And that does upset me. But I guarantee you that it's not the only thing troubling me right now. It's a lot of things."

"Your life." She said softly, knowing about Erin's husband and recent divorce.

"Yes." Erin replied. "We all have trouble in our lives, don't we?"

Adams swallowed as she looked into her beautiful face. "Some more than others." She finally said.

Erin looked at her and saw the glint of sadness in her eyes. She reached out and gently laid her hands on top of the dark woman's.

Adams nearly trembled under the warm and caring touch, the gesture almost too much. She was quickly losing the battle within herself over Erin Mackenzie. The incredible blonde was invading her dark and desolate soul, conquering it with light and love. She looked away, hating how emotional and easily moved she was quickly becoming. How could this have happened? How did this woman do what no other ever could?

She removed her hands out from underneath Erin's, the warming sensation spreading like a virus in her blood. She looked back into the green eyes and gathered her nerve.

"I need to tell you about Jay." She said, almost in a whisper.

Erin reached out and touched her hand again, unable not to.

"What do you want to tell me?" She asked softly.

"She's messed up." She admitted wishing she could remove her hand, but knowing she now needed it to draw strength from. "Really messed up." She continued. "She's got it in her head that she needs to protect me like she did when we were kids."

"Have you spoken with her?" Erin asked with concern as she searched her eyes. "Since all this happened?"

Adams shook her head and let out a shaky breath. She was never this emotional, not even about her own sister. It was Erin Mackenzie and the way she sat looking at her. With warmth, caring, and unconditional understanding. Things she had never seen in anyone's eyes before, things she knew she would forever be drawn to. Looking away, she finally managed to continue. "I told her to leave you alone, to stop the killing."

"Do you think she will?" She asked softly.

"I hope so." She looked back to Erin "I've got a private investigator following her to make sure. But last I heard, Jay had left Alabama and now I don't know where she is."

"Alabama?"

"Yes, that's where we grew up." She felt Erin squeeze her hand and she swelled with emotion deep within her chest, willing to tell the woman everything. From her horrible childhood to her countless lovers, she would tell her all of it. Because for once in her life she knew that she had found someone who would understand.

"And the detective doesn't know where she is?" Erin asked with concern, wanting more than anything to reach out and hold the hurting woman across from her.

"I haven't heard yet." She said, trying to gain a handle on her emotions.

"Why haven't the police found her?" Erin asked. "I don't remember reading anything in your file about a sister."

"That's probably because there's not much to find." She said, looking into her eyes. "Jay's my half sister." She looked away as she continued to explain. "My mother would breeze into town with an illegitimate baby, claiming she couldn't care for it. And her sister, my aunt, would take them."

"How many times did she do this?" She felt so sad for the dark woman and her lonely motherless childhood.

"Twice. Once with Jay and then once with me."

"She just dropped you off and left you? Never to see you again?"

Adams shook her head in silence. "We were raised and schooled for a long time by my aunt. I, for the most part, didn't even have a medical record until I broke my arm and needed surgery. And, well, after a certain traumatic instance, Jay pretty much lost her sense of reality and wouldn't even stray far from the house. Not many people knew her."

"My gosh." Erin breathed out. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." Adams managed, her throat tight. "It's something I got over a long time ago."

"Thank you for telling me." The blonde said meaning it. She knew Adams was putting up a brave front and she didn't want to upset her any further. She had questions about her childhood but she knew she couldn't push. If the dark woman wanted to tell her, she would.

"I told you I would tell you." She said softly. "And I'll tell you more as I know it, in regards to Jay. I just don't want you to go crazy over all this."

Erin leaned closer to Adams across the seat of the bike. She had sobered up quickly and her heart pounded within her, threatening to burst with feelings for the dark woman.

"What I'm going crazy over is you." She said, reaching out and lightly touching the perfectly sculpted face.

Adams breathed deeply at the warmth of the touch and she reached up to grab the hand that elicited such powerful reactions in her. She turned the hand over and kissed lightly at the palm. She finally knew some of the reasons why the young detective moved her so, but she also knew that she would most likely spend eternity trying to find out the rest.

Erin shuddered across from her as she felt the hot lips and breath on her sensitive palm.

"You don't understand how much I think about you." She whispered breathlessly. "You're the only one I've ever been with and…"

"The only one?" She questioned, suddenly alarmed.

"Yes." Erin answered, feeling her cheeks flush with heated embarrassment.

Adams sat in silence, dumbfounded. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, suddenly fearing that maybe she had rushed the encounter or been too aggressive.

"What was I supposed to say exactly? Besides, nothing happened that I didn't want to happen."

"That was weeks ago." She said under her breath, silently reliving the wonderful encounter in her mind. "There's been no one since?" A dull, heavy sensation suddenly fell upon her insides as she thought of Erin with another woman.

"No." She said, looking away. "I've wanted to, but…" She let the words fall away, too embarrassed to continue.

"I understand." She said softly, gently leading her chin to look back into her eyes. She remembered how crazy with lust she had been after her first experience with a woman. She looked at her, still relieved however selfish it may be, that she hadn't been with someone else. Searching her green eyes she said. "Erin?"

"Yes?"

"I want to see you again. Soon." She said huskily.

"I want to see you too." Erin replied, feeling the warm heat in her cheeks spread throughout her body.

"Call me." Adams said. "Anytime."

Erin shook her head and looked down as Adams retrieved a pen from a small satchel on the side of the bike. Taking her hand, she then gently wrote a phone number in the very palm she had just kissed.

Then, with slow deliberation, Adams tilted her face and kissed her. Erin swayed under the warm, tender mouth as she felt Adams reach out to steady her, holding her, embracing her.

They pulled apart slowly and Erin opened her eyes, wanting literally to cry at the loss. She had never felt anything so powerful, never wanted anyone so much.

"Hey." Adams said softly, holding her face gently. "I'll see you again soon."

"I know." Erin said looking down. "I think it's just everything. It's all getting to me."

Adams stroked her hair away from her face. "It's going to be ok. I promise it'll all work out."

Erin looked up as a tear fell down her cheek. "I hope you're right."

"I'm always right." She said, kissing her forehead. "Now let's get you back to wherever you're staying so you can get some rest."

Erin shook her head and readied herself for the ride back to Valle Luna.

Henderson stepped away from the apartment window and looked at Sinclair. She was at a total loss for words as she heard Adams drive away on her Harley. She sat down on the couch and hugged herself as she waited, eventually hearing Erin climb the stairs to the apartment.

"I'm sorry, Patricia." Sinclair finally said. "I didn't want to be right."

Henderson swallowed hard as she heard Mac knock at the door.

"I don't know what this means." She said as she rose to answer the door. "But I do know that I refuse to think you're right." She opened the door and looked at her friend, hoping against hope that Mac could answer all the questions that she suddenly found she needed answers to.

part 8

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