Monday, April 24

9:58 P.M.

A CONDOMINIUM IN LAS PIERNAS

TWO minutes to go.

Cleo didn’t want to call him, but she would.

There was no use trying to fool him. Sooner or later he would find out-his connections in this city were too many and too far-reaching. One of the ones in the police department would blab to him. Or the one in the coroner’s office.

She lit a cigarette, hoping it would help to steady her nerves. She had never smoked to steady her nerves before in her life.

Then again, she’d never had such a royal fucking disaster on her hands.

Calm down. Not a disaster. You took precautions.

Not one to fold under pressure, she had found some relief in making new decisions, taking action. She had already showered and changed and packed.

Now she made the call, using a disposable cell phone. He answered on the third ring, something Dexter had picked up from him. It was a conceit of Giles’s, she knew. A routine. Routines could get a person killed. No one knew that better than she did.

The routine of crating a dog. The routine of watching a certain news program at a certain time each night.

“Yes?” he answered. “What’s the situation?”

“Taken care of.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute or so. That, too, was his typical reaction. She knew what he would ask next. She kept her breathing steady.

“Thank you. Any trouble?”

“Yes,” she said.

She heard his sharp intake of breath. Of course. She had said something other than the expected.

“What happened?” he asked.

“She had invited someone over.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Two women.”

“Did they see you?”

“Be careful what you say on the phone.”

“Did. They. See. You.” Every word said with his teeth closed. She knew this mood.

“No.” She wasn’t entirely sure that was true, but she wasn’t about to let him know of her doubts.

“Are you certain?” he asked.

He’s not a mind reader. Stay calm. Put him on the defensive. Sound irritated.

“I’m sure. And you are, too, or someone would have talked to you about it by now.”

She heard him exhale in relief. “Yes. About these women?”

“I have no idea who they are. I’d say either…one of her groups or the press. She hasn’t had time to make any other connections.”

“Yes. We know she has been trying to get her name in the papers.”

“Then we helped her achieve her ambition.”

“Don’t be flip about this,” he said angrily.

Cleo said nothing.

Two long minutes of silence passed, then he said, “Anything else you need to tell me?”

She was angry, too. This whole mess was his fault. She thought it would serve him right if she didn’t tell him everything. But that would cause more problems down the road, she knew. Was it smart to say this on the phone, though? She took the chance.

“I lost a shoe.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“I’m saying one of my shoes got stuck in the mud.”

“They’ll trace it to you!”

“Now, exactly how would they do that?”

He had no answer to that.

“I’m going away for a few days,” she said.

“No-”

“Think!”

“I don’t like it.”

“It’s for the best.”

“No. No, don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because…I’ll miss you.”

She smiled and lit another cigarette.

“Are you smoking?”

“Yes. And I’m going away for a few days. It will be all right. It will be so good when I return. Remember?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. A moment later she heard his breathing change and wondered if he had reached for his zipper.

“I’ll only be a couple of hours away from here,” she said softly. “You know where to reach me.”

“Yes.”

“I can be back here if you need me.”

“Come by. Come by now, before you go.”

“Now, that would be foolish. You’re going to be busy tomorrow, anyway. You have to find out who the women were.”

“What?”

She might as well have dropped ice water on his crotch. It almost made her laugh.

“You find out who the women were. The two.”

“What are you planning?”

“So far? Nothing. But we should know, right?”

“I guess so,” he said uneasily.

“Be good while I’m gone,” she said, and hung up.

Tuesday, April 25

1:13 A.M.

LAS PIERNAS

I WAS cold, I was tired, I was hungry. And as I had warned Frank, I was bringing a dog home with me.

I couldn’t make myself leave Altair to the tender mercies of Las Piernas Animal Control. Apparently the LPPD couldn’t, either. They handed me a form-I guess in their line of work, animals left in the homes of arrestees, suicides, and murder victims weren’t a rare occurrence. I filled it out and signed it, thereby agreeing that I understood I had only temporary custody of the animal. Then I had to verbally promise that I realized I wasn’t being given the dog.

He had to come to the Express with me first, and although John raised his eyebrows, he didn’t make me leave the poor dog in the car. Altair was quiet-he lay next to me while I wrote my story, and otherwise followed me closely everywhere I went, but didn’t cause anyone any trouble.

AS I pulled into my own driveway, it started to rain again. I didn’t mind so much-the lights in the house were on. The menfolk and the menagerie had waited up for me.

My husband gave me a quick hug, while Ethan called greetings through the door of the guest room and assured me that Cody, our cat, was with him.

I brought Altair in and spent the next few minutes making sure the dogs weren’t going to chase one another through the house. They didn’t, but this was not because there was a lack of desire on the part of our dogs, Deke and Dunk. Their manners, although improving, couldn’t match those of Altair.

Luckily, all three dogs had been well socialized, with plenty of time around other dogs. No one was growling or nipping. Altair wasn’t as full of exuberance as our dogs were, and they seemed to quickly pick up on his mood-which, understandably, was quiet, bordering on depressed.

I had wondered if he’d be comfortable around men, since his last two handlers were women, but I needn’t have worried. He immediately took to Frank.

“Did you eat dinner?” Frank said, rubbing Altair’s ears in a way that made the dog look up at him in adoration.

“No, but…”

“Why don’t you change into something a little less rain-soaked? I’ll let Ethan know that he can come out even if Cody decides to stay in, and I’ll heat up some soup for you.”

The magic of ear rubs had apparently released Altair from the spell that had forced him to shadow me, and I was able to ditch my damp clothing (the shoes were never going to be the same) and change into a sweater, sweatpants, and warm socks. A glance in the mirror told me I still looked as if I had rolled up on the beach with the last high tide, but I didn’t have the energy to make improvements.

Frank had been working on the case out at the oil island. A tough day, I could tell, however much he related most of it as a shaggy-dog story about his partner, Pete Baird, getting seasick during the trip across the harbor. Eventually we heard, in far more concise and sober terms, about the sorrowful return trip.

The question of the boys’ identities had been resolved rather quickly, mostly because the boys had been missed and several friends had known of their plans. “A couple of the parents are furious with the friends who didn’t join in the fun-mad as hell at those kids for not warning them about what their sons were planning.”

“Let me guess,” Ethan said. “The parents who spent the least amount of time with their kids when they were breathing.”