“I’d take you to jail if I knew you wouldn’t retaliate, but you would, wouldn’t you? You’d never make me another steak sandwich.”

“It’s your fault for fraternizing with her,” Mary Lisa said.

They all piled into Daniel’s four-door Crown Vic, none of them feeling much like conversation. Mary Lisa stared out the car window toward the Pacific. It was darker now, but you could see the fog reflected in the lights, hovering like a thick miasma over the water, and a half-moon trying to break out of slowly moving dark clouds. It was threatening to rain, though it hardly ever did. There was little traffic this time of night, and Daniel pulled to the curb in front of Puker Hodges’s apartment complex sooner than she expected. He pointed to the corner apartment on the second floor. “It’s up there.”

“All lit up,” Jack said. “Good, our boy is still there. That surprises me. He had to know Mary Lisa would see through those pictures he gave us, that we’d be back. Maybe he thought it would take us longer.”

Lou Lou jumped out of the backseat. “I’m going to kick that little pissant’s butt myself. Hey, Danny, why don’t you take a photo, we can sell it to the Enquirer.”

Jack said, “Leave your fantasies about Puker to us, Lou Lou. And stay behind me.”

When they reached the second floor, Jack knocked firmly on the door, twice. There was no answer.

Daniel called out, “Mr. Hodges, police, open up. We want to speak to you.” And he rapped hard on the door.

Suddenly, Jack knew something wasn’t right. He grasped Mary Lisa’s upper arms, lifted her, and set her down against the stucco wall beside the door. “I don’t like this. Please, both of you stay right here, don’t move from this spot.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Mary Lisa, trust me on this, okay?”

Daniel nodded to Jack, who tried the doorknob. It was locked. He took a step back and sent his foot into the door. It shuddered, but didn’t give. He kicked it again, nearly on the doorknob this time, and the door crashed inward.

Both men had their guns in their hands when they ducked inside. They swept the foyer, and stepped into the living room. It was obvious there’d been a fight. The sofa was knocked caddywumpus, and a chair lay on its back, a lamp broken beside it. Magazines were strewn on the floor, along with some books from the two bookcases. It was a royal mess. “Puker put up a fight.” Jack turned and shouted, “You guys stay out there until we check the rest of the apartment.”

Daniel called for backup.

The kitchen, Puker’s bedroom, and his darkroom looked okay; the fight hadn’t gone in there. They didn’t find Puker. In his darkroom, there were maybe half a dozen photos strewn around on the floor, as if someone had looked them over and tossed them aside after checking them, but otherwise the equipment was okay.

“I’d say the guy either found the photos and took Puker anyway or he didn’t find the photos and took Puker to get information out of him. Either way, you need an APB on him, Daniel.”

Mary Lisa and Lou Lou stood in the foyer, staring at the wrecked living room. A lone fern had been toppled onto the floor, soil scattered and crushed, as if someone had walked in it on purpose. They heard sirens in the distance. Daniel walked toward them, his gun holstered.

“Is Puker dead? Is his body in there?”

“No, Lou Lou, Puker isn’t here.”

“By the looks of the living room,” Mary Lisa said, “the guy who’s after me dragged Puker out of here.”

“Looks like,” Daniel agreed. “Okay, I’ve got to stay here, fill in the LAPD when they show up since we’re in their jurisdiction now. Jack’s going to take you guys home.”

Lou Lou took one last look around. “He fought. I’m glad he wasn’t a wuss.”

“Yeah, he fought,” Detective Vasquez said. “I’ll bet the guy didn’t find the photos and that’s why he took Puker. He’s going to pull Puker’s toenails out if he doesn’t tell him where they are. Either that or kill him. What I can’t figure is how this guy even knew Puker had photos of him in the first place.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Mary Lisa said. “There’s no doubt in my mind Puker found out who he was and decided to try a little blackmail. After all, he tried it with me, didn’t he?”

Jack and Detective Vasquez both nodded, then herded them toward the car. “Puker will have to fend for himself until the cops find him.”

By the time Jack got ready to leave Mary Lisa’s house, Lou Lou was already in a pair of Mary Lisa’s pajamas, standing in the bedroom doorway, yawning. Mary Lisa was still pacing her living room, looking down at her lovely French pedicure that needed a redo. Jack took her hand and pulled her to the front door, out of Lou Lou’s hearing. Without thinking, he tucked a thick curly strand of red hair behind her ear. “I know you’re scared. Your life feels like it’s out of control. Hang in there, Mary Lisa, and don’t ever be alone, okay?”

Mary Lisa grabbed up her mess of hair, pulled it in a ponytail, and looped a rubber band from her pocket efficiently around it. But she’d clammed up.

The house phone rang. He heard Lou Lou answer it. She called out, “It’s okay, Mary Lisa. It’s not the creep.”

Jack said, “Good. Now, I’ve got to go. Keep your doors locked, all right? And turn on your security system. It’ll be okay, Mary Lisa. We’ll figure this out.”

Lou Lou came up behind Mary Lisa. “Carlo’s on his way over with some of his friends, said he and his surfboard were going to camp out here for a couple of nights.”

“Good. Have a pajama party, the more the merrier.” He nodded to both of them, and left.

Mary Lisa drank a cup of tea and went off to bed, not wishing to see anyone that night. Almost immediately she was dreaming about John Lennon. They were dancing in the huge engine room of a submarine and he was twirling her around and around, and then he started ringing. He didn’t look at all surprised, he just puffed out his chest and rang.

It was her cell phone and it was one o’clock in the morning.

Nicole Kidman played a glue-sniffing teen on the Australian soap A Country Practice.

The phone rang again, then once more.

“Hello?”

“What have you gotten yourself into? What is going on down there?”

It didn’t sound at all like John Lennon. “Who is this?”

“John Goddard. What’s happening?”

His voice was warm and deep and definitely pissed off, and she smiled into the phone. “Oh, a John by another name. It’s good to hear from you, but how did you know anything was happening? It’s kind of late down here, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry to call you so late. What do you mean a John by another name?”

“I was dreaming about John Lennon and he started ringing and it was you. So, what’s going on?”

“Your dad called me, said Jack had called him, told him it was getting really complicated down there and he was going to stay to see if he could help resolve things.”

“Complicated? Is that cop talk for understatement? Can you sing, John?”

He laughed. “Lock me in a shower and you can’t shut me up.”

Right there in her mind’s eye was the visual of him crooning while she looked at his lovely wet butt. He turned and smiled at her. But it wasn’t John’s face, it was Jack’s, and she jerked the shower curtain closed real fast. “Okay, I’m awake now. Why did my dad call you?”

There was a slight pause before John the tough district attorney said, “Why shouldn’t he call me? I asked him to, I was worried about you. He thinks I should come down there, said Jack was okay, but it’s time for the big gun.”

Big gun, huh? “My father called you the big gun?”

“Maybe not his exact words.”

“John, it’s a nice thought, but you’re preparing evidence for Milo Hildebrand’s trial, aren’t you? Seems to me you’re pretty busy right now. Isn’t Patricia Bigelow all over you with motions for this and that?”