LATER THAT AFTERNOON, my doctor came in and told me there was nothing wrong with my system that a good glass of wine or two wouldn't cure.

"There are even some people here who want to take you home," he said.

Outside my room, I saw Claire and Cindy peeking in.

They took me home about long enough to shower, change, and give Martha a long-overdue hug. Then I had to go down to the Hall. Everyone seemed to want a piece of me. I made a date to see the girls later at Susie's. It was important that we get together now.

I did the news spots on the steps of the Hall. Tom Brokaw was patched through and interviewed me on a video link.

As I recounted the story of how we had found Danko and Hardaway, I felt a tremor snaking through me, distancing me even as I spoke. Jill was dead; Molinari was gone; I didn't feel much like a hero. The phone was going to ring, some other homicide called in, and life would slam back the way it always did. But this time I knew nothing was ever going to be the same.

It was about four-thirty when the girls came to get me. I was doing reports. Although Jacobi and Cappy were bragging they had the best LT on the force, I'd actually felt depressed. Lonely and empty. Until the girls showed up, anyway.

"Hey," Cindy said, twirling a little Mexican cocktail flag in my face, "margaritas await."

They took me to Susie's, the last place we had been with Jill. Actually, two years before, it was where we had welcomed her into our budding group. We took our places in our cor-ner booth and ordered a round of margaritas. I ran them through the terrifying struggle at the Palace the night before, the president's call, then today, Brokaw and the evening news.

It was sad, though, just the three of us. The conspicuous empty space next to Claire.

Our drinks came. "On the house, of course," the waitress, Joanie, said.

We raised our glasses, each of us trying to smile, but fighting back tears. "Here's to our girl," Claire said. "Maybe now she can start to rest in peace."

"She'll never rest in peace," Cindy said, laughing through tears. "Out of character."

"I'm sure she's up there now," I said, "sizing up the peck-ing order, looking down at us. `Hey, guys, I got it all figured out....' "

"Then she's smiling," Claire said.

"To Jill," we all said. We clinked glasses. It was hard to think that this was the way it was going to be from now on. I missed her so much, and never more than that moment at our table, without her.

"So," Claire said, clearing her throat, her gaze landing on me. "What happens now?"

"We're gonna order some ribs," I said, "and I'm gonna have another one of these. Maybe more than one."

"I think she was actually saying, what's with you and Deputy Dawg." Cindy winked.

"He's heading back to Washington," I said. "Tonight."

"For............