'Maybeyou can get a signal outside,' Danny said. He stood up, slipped on his jacket.'Want to give it a shot?'

    Shehit one more button, waited until the progress bar made its way fully to theright, and said: 'Sure.'

    'Comeon,' Danny said. 'I'll get the check.'

    Theywalked slowly down the street, wordlessly window browsing.

    'Don'tyou have to make that call?' Danny asked.

    Sheshook her head. 'Not really. It's just my mother. She's just going to give meshit about what a loser I am. I can wait.'

    'Wemight be related,' Danny said. 'Like closely related. I think we havethe same mother.'

    'Ithought you looked familiar.'

    Dannylooked around. 'So, where are you parked?'

    'Justup this way.'

    'Wouldyou like me to walk you to your car?'

    Shestopped. 'Oh no.'

    'What?'

    'You'renot a gentleman, are you?' she accused him flirtatiously.

    Dannyraised a hand, three fingers up, Boy Scout style. 'I swear to God I'm not.'

    Shelaughed. 'Sure.'

    Theyturned the corner into a dim alleyway, heading toward the parking lot. Beforethey took three steps she saw the glint of the revolver.

    Witha strong forearm Danny slammed her against the bricks and brought his face veryclose to hers.

    'Yousee that red Sebring over there?' he whispered, nodding toward the Chryslerparked near the end of the alley. 'Here's what we're going to do. We're goingto walk over there and you're going to get in that car. If you give me anytrouble, make a single sound, so help me God I will shoot you in the fuckingface. Do you hear me?'

    'Yes.'

    'Doyou doubt what I say?'

    Sheshook her head.

    'Iwant you to say it out loud. I want you to say "I understand,Danny.'"

    'Iunderstand, Danny.'

    'Good.Good,' he said. 'Paulette.' He kept a hand on her, leaned away. 'Youknow, you've got great tits. You wear this loose shit to hide them, but I cantell. And you're a goddamn drunk. Do you know what a plus that is?'

    Shejust stared.

    'Me?I've never had a drink in my life. I just have this weakness for weak women.Always have.'

    Heran his left hand slowly over her right hip, his other hand remaining on thebutt of the gun. He smiled.

    'Ithink we're going to do it right here. What do you think of that?'

    'Youwon't hurt me?'

    'No,'he said. 'But admit it, Paulette. There is something excitingabout doing it in public. Especially with a total stranger.' He pulled down hiszipper. 'But that's why you drink, isn't it? Because you hate yourself? Becauseyou're a whore?'

    Shedidn't know if it was really a question. She remained silent. He continued.

    'Ofcourse it is. And you know what? I bet you've gotten plenty loaded over theyears, and fucked plenty of guys in alleys. Right?'

    Thiswas definitely a question. When she didn't answer he took the revolver from hiswaistband and stuck it between her legs. Hard.

    'Answer... the fucking ... question.'

    'Yes.'

    Heran the barrel of the gun up and down, applying even more pressure. 'Say it.'

    'I'vefucked a lot of guys in alleys.'

    'Andyou loved it.'

    'AndI loved it.'

    'Becauseyou're a fucking whore.'

    'BecauseI'm a fucking whore.'

    'Ithought so.' He slipped the gun back into his waistband. 'You know that othergirl? She gave me a hard time. She didn't have to die.'

    'Theother girl?'

    'Theredhead. The fat one. Marcy something, the papers said. Smelled like acheap slut. Which she was, of course.'

    Heleaned in, sniffed her hair.

    'Youdon't smell cheap,' he said. 'You smell good.'

    Ashadow crawled slowly across the ground, pooling at their feet. Danny noticed,spun around.

    Behindhim, a few paces away, stood the petite blonde from the AA meeting, the onewearing the green Temple University hooded sweatshirt. In her hand was a Glock17, pointed at the center of Danny's chest.

    'My nameis Nicci,' the blonde said. 'And I'm a police officer.'

    'Hi,Nicci!' Detective Jessica Balzano responded.

    Duringthe previous three weeks, on her undercover assignment to catch the AA Killer,Jessica had been Paulette. No last name. Just Paulette. She discovered early onin the assignment that no one had a last name at AA.

    BehindDetective Nicolette Malone stood two other detectives, as well as a veteranpatrolman named Stan Keegan. At either end of the alley were a pair of sectorcars.

    Dannylooked at Jessica, his hands trembling now. 'You're a cop?'

    Jessicastepped back, drew her own weapon from a holster at the small of her back,leveled it. 'Put your hands behind your head and interlace your fingers.'

    Dannyhesitated, his eyes shifting from side to side.

    'Doit now.''

    Dannyfroze.

    'Suityourself,' Jessica said. 'But if you don't do what I tell you to do, you willdie where you stand. In an Ed Hardy T-shirt, no less. With your zipperdown. Your call.'

    Thesuspect, whose real name was Lucas Anthony Thompson, seemed to realize his twochoices. He was leaving this alley either in handcuffs or on a gurney. In aninstant his will was broken. His shoulders sagged. He put his hands on top ofhis head, fingers interlaced.

    Jessicahad seen it a hundred times. And it never failed to warm her heart.

    Gotcha.

    NicciMalone stepped forward, pulled the weapon from the suspect's waistband, handedit to Officer Keegan, who put it in an evidence bag. Nicci then swept thesuspect's legs from beneath him. He hit the ground hard, face down. An instantlater Nicci dropped a knee into the center of Thompson's back, cuffed him.

    'It'salmost impossible you're this fucking stupid,' Nicci said.

    Jessicaholstered her gun, stepped forward. Each grabbing an arm, the two detectivespulled the suspect roughly to his feet.

    'Youare under arrest for the murder of Marcia Jane Kimmelman,' Jessica said. Sheread him his Miranda rights. 'Do you understand these rights?'

    Thompsonnodded, still dazed.

    'Youhave to answer out loud,' she said. 'You have to say "yes."'

    'Yes.'

    'Actually,I want you to say, "Yes, I understand, Detective Goddess Balzano.'"

    Thompsondidn't say it. He was still a bit stunned.

    Ah,well, Jessica thought. Worth a shot. She reached into her pocket,pulled out the small digital recorder. She rewound the recording, clicked Play.

    Youknow that other girl? She gave me a hard time. She didn't have to die.

    Jessicaclicked off the recorder. Thompson hung his head.

    Theyhad plenty with which to charge him. An eyewitness, a good sampling of DNA,ballistics. The recording was just icing on the cake. The DAs office lovedrecordings. Sometimes a recording made all the difference in the world.

    Asuniformed officers led Thompson away, Officer Stan Keegan leaned against thebrick wall, crossed his arms over his kettle-drum chest, a Cheshire-cat grin onhis face.

    'What'sso funny?' Jessica asked.

    'You two,'he said, nodding at her and Nicci. 'I'm just trying to figure out which one ofyou is Batman and which one is Robin.'

    'Batman?Dream on, mortal,' Jessica said. 'I'm Wonder Woman.'

    'AndI'm She Hulk,' Nicci added.

    Thetwo women bumped fists.

    Therewas a young man standing next to the sector car, talking to one of theuniformed officers. He was tall, dark-haired, lanky, and had about him anervous energy. He carried an expensive-looking digital video camera. Jessicasoon realized who he was, and what he was doing there.