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tired he was beyond caring. His body ached in every place he could think of and even some that he couldn’t.
    The time he’d spent on the ledge with Tucker had drained him, physically and mentally. He loved the job, but the aftermath always took its toll.
    “Are you still here, Andy?” Detective Superintendent Patrick Redding strode into the main squad room where Andy’s desk stood amongst a half dozen identical ones, cluttered with unfinished paperwork .
    Andy lifted his chin and wearily looked at his boss. “Yeah, I was just finishing up the report on Wayne Tucker.”
    “Good work on that one today. Tom told me it was touch and go there for a while.”
    “Thank you, sir.” Taking a deep breath, he released it slowly and shook his head. “I thought he was going to jump. I couldn’t seem to get through to him. But I kept at it—what else could I do? I don’t know what changed, but for some reason he started to listen to me, really listen.” He shrugged. “I caught a lucky break.”
    “More than luck, Andy. You’re a damned good negotiator.” Redding indicated the open file on Andy’s desk, and continued, “They’re the lucky ones. All of those unstable souls out there like Tucker who had your help when they needed it most… If it weren’t for you, there’d be a lot more of them rotting in the ground right now.”
    “Thank you, sir, I appreciate your vote of confidence.” He shrugged self-consciously. “I do my best. It’s all I can do.” His voice lowered. “It’s the ones I might not save who keep me up at night.”
    Redding frowned. The deep wrinkles lining his forehead became more prominent. “Now, you listen to me, Andy Warwick. You might have only a year’s experience behind you, but you’re a good police officer and one of the best negotiators I’ve worked with. It’s a shame we didn’t have a few more of your ilk working here. Our success rate might be a little higher and that would please all concerned.”
    He stepped closer and gripped Andy’s shoulder. “It’s normal for you to get down on yourself when you don’t succeed—especially in your position where failure can mean death. But don’t ever doubt yourself or your abilities. You’re one of our finest, Andy. Don’t forget it. Besides,” he added, “you haven’t lost one yet, so stop stressing about it.”
    Andy fought back the lump of emotion that lodged in his throat and lifted grateful eyes toward his boss. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me.”
    “I meant every word of it.” Redding’s voice was gruff. The beard-roughened skin of his cheeks turned pink. Collecting his briefcase from where it sat at his feet, he headed for the exit. “Don’t stay too late, will you?” he called over his shoulder. He opened the door and disappeared.
    Andy was momentarily distracted by the sound of a vacuum cleaner from one of the other rooms. He glanced at his watch. Nearly eight. The night had folded in around him, unnoticed until now.
    The noise moved closer. His pulse rate accelerated. He took deep breaths and did his best to avoid the impending panic attack. No one had ever told him why the sound of the vacuum cleaner had always annoyed his father. He could remember how his mother would rush from work to collect him and his little sister from school and then race home to get the vacuuming done before his father arrived.
    Occasionally, she’d run late and his father arrived home before it was finished. She wouldn’t hear him come in over the noise. Moments after his arrival, he’d knock her flying with a heavy fist.
    Andy’s gut tensed. To his relief, the noise stopped. A few minutes later, the door to the squad room opened.
    “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there was anyone still here. Do you mind if I do some cleaning?”
    Andy looked into a pair of the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. His dark memories vanished with a jolt. He tried to process the vision in front of him.
    Was he dreaming? He was bone tired