“I had a filet mignon that one time. I think Miss Lane said she enjoyed the swordfish.”

The waiter came back with our drinks. We went ahead and ordered dinner. Olivia and I both opted for the filet.

“Tell me about Haley Lane,” she said after the waiter had gone. “What was she like?”

I gave my stock answer. “She was a good woman. Easy to work for and very kindhearted. Not jaded or impressed with herself at all. What’s Doña Elena like?”

“You met her, so you know she can put away the Chablis. Sometimes that makes her a little bit mean-spirited, but mostly I like her. And the congressman is very kind and thoughtful. He can be curt, but only when he’s in a hurry, and he almost always apologizes later. It’s interesting how normal these people are behind the scenes, isn’t it?”

“In my line of work, I’ve met all kinds. Like they say, the rich are different; they have lots of money.”

“Really? Doña Elena and the congressman are my first rich and famous bosses. At first I was intimidated, but they treat me better than I would treat them if I were in their shoes, probably.”

“That’s an interesting thing to say.”

“I think it’s the power. Being able to make people do pretty much whatever you want them to do. I’d have trouble managing that. It’s seductive.”

Watching her sip from her martini, I said, “What did you do before you went to work for the Montes?”

“This and that. I went to college in Spain, then worked for a bank in a little town called Alzira in Valencia. That’s where I met the HRT Formula One guys.”

“What did you do at the bank?”

“Account management. I have a degree in international banking.”

I stared at her. “Seriously?”

She smiled. “Seriously.”

“Why are you working as a personal assistant?”

“Jobs in my field are kind of scarce at the moment. There’s a little recession on, as you may have heard.”

I smiled. “I did hear something about that.”

The sommelier arrived. I ordered a bottle of Rioja in honor of Olivia’s time in Spain.

When he had left the table, I said, “So how did you get from Pico-Union to Spain?”

“My father sent me.”

I admired her technique. The most convincing lies are always those that contain as much factual information as possible. It’s the same with a false identity. Soto instead of Sotomayor. Olivia was quite good at telling convincing lies. If I had not gone to Guatemala, I might never have known.

She took another sip of her martini, staring at me with her huge brown eyes. I felt her leg press against mine below the table. She maintained the pressure between us. Maybe she thought my leg was the table base, but I doubted it.

She said, “Let’s talk about you for a while. I’m still interested in how you get to drive an Aston Martin one seventy-seven. Who does it belong to now that Haley Lane is dead?”

Dead. It still seemed an impossible word to use about Haley. Suddenly I wanted to trade in my mineral water for three fingers of Scotch. I said, “I couldn’t comment.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

I tried to smile. “Something like that. In my business, discretion is everything.”

“Oh, I understand that, believe me. So answer this instead. Who were those men who tried to kill you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Are they connected to you looking into the kidnapping and murder?”

“Could be. I’m really not sure.”

The steaks arrived, and immediately afterward, the wine. When the sommelier had poured and gone away, she said, “Do you think it was connected to the home invasion?”

“Must be. Too coincidental otherwise.”

She looked at me a moment. “I can’t believe you accused me of being that woman.”

I looked her in the eye. “I’m sorry about that, Olivia. It’s just… I’m feeling a little desperate. Clutching at straws.”

“There might not have even been a woman there that night. I know what Doña Elena said, but she says a lot of things after her second bottle of Chablis. It’s hard to believe Alejandra Delarosa was involved.”

“Hard to believe I was involved, too. Right?”

She looked away. “Of course.”

“My fingerprints were on the door. Both inside and outside.”

“Well, you were there before, so you left them then.”

“Uh-huh. You know, there’s a funny thing about that. I could have sworn you were the one who opened the door both times, when I went in and when I went out.”

“Obviously not.”

“Yeah, I guess not. But I could have sworn.”

We ate silently for a few minutes. She continued to press her leg against mine below the table. The steaks were very good. Not worth fifty-three dollars each, but good.

Olivia said, “Have you learned anything interesting about Alejandra Delarosa?” She didn’t look at me as she asked the question. She was very focused on her filet.

I said, “I have, actually. Several things.”

“Really? Like what?”

I decided it was time to put on some pressure. I reached over with the back of my fingers and moved a lock of her hair away from her face. “You don’t really want to talk about her over dinner, do you? An evil woman like that?”

She cut a small slice from the steak. “I don’t mind. It’s interesting.”

“Doesn’t it kind of turn your stomach, thinking about what she did?”

Her leg moved away from mine. She said, “Not really.”

I watched her carefully as she lifted the bite of steak to her lovely lips. The lower lip seemed to tremble, just slightly. I almost felt sorry for her, but it had to be done. I said, “We were talking about how rich and powerful people are really like the rest of us, but people like that Delarosa woman, they’re a whole other species, if you ask me. Anyone who could do what she did to an innocent human being doesn’t deserve to be considered human. No conscience. No heart. She’s nothing but an animal. A disgusting animal.”

“Maybe she had good reasons. Maybe that Toledo man wasn’t so innocent. Maybe she was defending something, or getting some kind of justice.”

“Seriously? What good reason could a woman have for blowing a man’s brains out in front of his wife? What could she have been defending that would justify a thing like that?” I shook my head. “The woman is obviously a sociopath. She cares about nothing and no one but herself. She robbed a woman of her husband and abandoned her own husband and daughter for money. She has no more compassion than a snake or a shark.”

Olivia Soto put her fork down on her plate. It clattered loudly, drawing the attention of the couple at the next table. She said, “Excuse me,” and slid along the booth away from me.

I said, “Are you okay?”

“I… No. I’m sorry. I don’t feel well all of a sudden.”

She stood and hurried away, disappearing into the hallway toward the restrooms. The couple at the next table were still watching. I looked at them and shrugged, then went back to work on my steak.

Olivia was away for about ten minutes. I had finished my meal when I saw her coming back between the tables. She slipped into the booth but didn’t slide over to her plate. Her eyes were red, and the skin on her cheeks was blotchy. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but do you think we could go now?”

“Sure we can. What’s wrong? I hope it wasn’t something I said.”

“I’m just not feeling very well. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” I got the waiter’s attention across the dining room and made a signing motion with my hand. He nodded, then walked into the kitchen. I looked back at Olivia. “Is there anything I can do?”

Her lower lip was trembling again. Her eyes were welling up. She looked down and shook her head. I reminded myself that Arturo Toledo and Fidel Castro weren’t around anymore to get their feelings hurt. I reminded myself that a couple of guys had put three slugs into my Kevlar vest and left me for dead. I reminded myself that Olivia Soto wasn’t her real name, that she was her mother’s daughter, and she was lying about it to get close to her mother’s victim. After all of those reminders, I felt a little better about myself, but not much.