Alexa came out of the sliding-glass door wearing a skimpy string bikini. She looked unbelievably hot-beautiful figure, long legs, coal-black hair, with a models high cheekbones under piercing aqua-blue eyes.

"'la-da," she said, announcing herself with her own chord. She stood before me, modeling the bathing suit. "You like, mister? Want kissy-kissy?"

I grabbed her arm and pulled her down onto my lap.

"You are not wearing that in public. But get thee to the bedroom, wench." I grinned and nuzzled her behind the ear as I picked her up to carry her inside.

"Put me down." She laughed. "We'll get to that later. I'm trying to pack."

We were leaving tomorrow for Hawaii. It was our annual two-week LAPD-mandated vacation. I could hardly wait to get away. As usual, we'd timed our vacation periods to coincide, and for fourteen glorious days I'd have no homicides to investigate, no gruesome crime-scene photos or forensic reports to study, no grieving families to console. Only acres of white sand and surf with my gorgeous wife in paradise.

. Alexa had worked twelve-hour days for a week to get her office squared away so she could afford the time off. Alexa is a lieutenant and the acting commander of the Detective Division of the LAPD. She's about to make captain, and the job will then be made permanent. That makes her technically my boss. I'm a D-3 working out of the elite homicide squad known as Homicide Special, where we handle all of L. A.'s media-worthy, high-profile murders. It's a good gig, but I was feeling burned out and needed some time away.

"Put me down. That's a direct order, Detective," she said, faking her LAPD command voice.

"You can give the orders in that squirrel cage downtown, but at home it's best two out of three falls, and in that outfit, get ready to be pinned."

"You brute. Stop making promises and get to it, then." She kissed me.