Her face went pale as she listened. “Oh my God. We just… Oh my God. The guard… He’s dead? Are you sure?”

Eric nodded. “He was shot in the chest.”

She closed her eyes. “I can’t do this.”

“You must,” Albert said harshly. “Until we find this guy and kill him ourselves.”

Her eyes flew open, widened. “Kill him? Us?”

“How else can we be sure he won’t leak those pictures to the cops?” Eric asked.

She shook her head, hard. “I can’t kill anyone else. I can’t.”

“You already did,” Albert said again, more harshly. “Don’t even consider running away, unless it’s to off yourself like Joel did. He saved us a hell of a lot of trouble.”

Her jaw clenched. “I hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Albert said. Then silence fell over the car as the three of them drove back to the city.

Thoughtfully he tapped the steering wheel of his unobtrusive white panel van. Interesting. The three of them had turned on one another but seemed to be sticking together-for now anyway. He’d have to see how that played out over the next few days and whether or not they decided to run away.

He’d waited until they were out of sight of Tomlinson’s warehouse before pulling out behind them. Now he stopped on the side road, just as they had and changed his plates, too, in case he’d been caught on the security cameras of the other warehouses.

Back behind the wheel, he reached for his video camera. He’d been parked at the fourth warehouse down from Tomlinson’s, sitting in the back of his van, filming the three of them going in, then coming out. They’d worn black ski masks tonight, but he got their eyes-especially Mary’s as she looked back to check on the dog. He’d even gotten Eric on tape, taking a picture with the disposable cell.

The video would provide some excellent clips to send to Eric and his pals. Now, home. He still had work to do. It wasn’t like Eric and the gang were his only concern. No, sir. He hadn’t gotten to where he was by putting all his eggs in a single basket. Nor had he gotten to where he was by being afraid of sacrificing a few eggs. What was left of Tomlinson was frying up right now. It was time to start a new omelet.

Monday, September 20, 11:55 p.m.

Olivia pushed her glass to the middle of the bar. “I’m done.”

“I thought you were going to drown your sorrows,” Brie said, sitting on her left. “You’ve nursed that one glass all night.”

“Maybe you just need time to process whatever happened,” Paige said quietly from her right and Olivia gave her a sharp look. Usually Paige egged her on, fanning the flames of ire at the injustice of men, but she’d been uncharacteristically muted tonight.

The three of them sat at the bar, morosely looking at their reflections in the mirror behind it. A redhead, a blonde, and a brunette, all in a row. “The two of you could be on magazine covers,” Olivia said. “But between us, we can’t find a decent guy. Why?”

“Because men are dogs,” Brie said disgustedly. “And you’re beautiful, too.”

Olivia smiled at her in the mirror. “And you’re drunk, babe.”

Brie sighed. “One of us needed to be.”

“It wasn’t easy seeing Micah today, was it?” Olivia murmured.

Brie’s eyes closed. “No.”

Paige’s black brows winged up. “You saw Micah today?”

“It’s an arson case,” Olivia said. “Barlow’s assigned. We needed cadaver dogs.”

“That’s surprising,” Paige said. “I thought he’d die before asking Brie for anything.”

“He called everyone else on the list first,” Olivia admitted. “But he knows his job.”

“His job was never the problem,” Brie muttered. “But we’re talking about you. I can’t believe you had sex with a fireman in Chicago and never told me. I’m still mad at you.”

“No, you’re not.” Olivia sighed. “And I didn’t have sex. Exactly.”

Brie leaned forward, chin on her fist. “What did you have, exactly?”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about it,” Paige said uncomfortably.

Brie frowned. “Whose side are you on anyway?”

Paige flinched. “Why would you even ask me that?”

Brie leaned forward more so that she could see Paige. “What’s with you tonight?”

Olivia turned toward Paige. “Yeah, what’s with you?”

“Nothing. I just think that sometimes there’s more to it than meets the eye.”

Olivia sighed. “He obviously didn’t think there was anything wrong with screaming someone else’s name… in the throes of passion.”

Brie patted Olivia’s hand. “Although, sometimes ‘And?’ means more than ‘And.’”

Olivia shook her head. “We need to get you some coffee.”

“No, I don’t wanna be sober. I was just wondering what he thought he’d said.”

“Or what he’d done,” Paige added. She signaled to the bartender. “Sal, can we get a cup of really strong coffee for our friend, here?”

Brie frowned. “Spoilsport. When did you become the responsible one?”

Sal put three steaming cups of coffee in front of them. “You need a cab, Brie?”

“I guess so,” Brie said glumly. “Dammit.”

“I’ll drive her home,” Paige said, then drew a breath. “Liv, I just think you should reconsider. This guy’s nice. From what you said, I mean.”

Brie was still frowning. “No, he’s not nice. Focus, Paige. He’s a jerk.”

Paige hesitated, then blurted, “Look, Liv, I need-”

Olivia’s cell phone buzzed in her pocket. “Wait a minute.” She checked the caller ID. “It’s Barlow. I have to take it.”

“He’s a jerk, too,” Brie muttered.

“Shh,” Olivia hissed. “Sutherland. What’s up?”

“Another fire,” Barlow said. “You should come.”

She slid off her stool. “Where?”

He gave her the address. “We’ve also got another homicide. Guy looks like he was shot in the head, then left in the building to burn. And Liv, we’ve got another ball.”

Olivia’s pulse started to race. “I’ll call Kane and we’ll be there as soon as we can.” She hung up and put enough cash on the bar to cover her tab. “Gotta go, girls.”

Tuesday, September 21, 12:10 a.m.

The garden behind David’s apartment house was his hideaway. The Gorski sisters kept it up beautifully, and for that he cut them a deal on the rent. The seventy-two-year-old identical twins had identical green thumbs and the air was fragrant with the last roses of the season. At least it wasn’t honeysuckle.

Behind him a sliding glass door opened, then closed. A minute later Glenn settled himself in the chair next to him and drew a deep breath. “God bless the Gorskis.”

David lifted his mug of hot tea. “Hear, hear. Did I wake you?”

“Nah. Couldn’t sleep. Saw the light from your laptop.” He gestured to the computer on David’s knee. “You still reading that asshole’s shit?”

David glanced at the Preston Moss speech he’d been rereading. “Somebody copied this guy last night at the condo fire, by design or smoke screen.”

Glenn looked amused. “And you’re playing detective?”

Annoyance prickled because he’d been trying to do exactly that-to understand the motive behind the arson that had killed that young girl. To understand how it had morphed into the cold-blooded murder of the guard. “That, and wondering if these environmentalists would quote Preston Moss after pulling a few dead bodies from a fire,” he said, then shook off his mood. “Did you and my mom have a nice dinner?”

“Yeah, except that Martino flirted with her shamelessly.”

David chuckled at Glenn’s sour tone. “What time did you get her home?”

“A little earlier than you rolled in, Dad. Thought you’d stay out longer.”

David’s smile faded. “Yeah. Well, it didn’t work out that way.”

“Sorry, boy.”

David sighed. “Me too.”

For a while they were silent. “So what did you do to your pretty blond cop?”

David leaned his head back to stare at the stars. “Did you ever mess up, Glenn?”

“With a woman? Time or two,” he said easily. “How bad did you mess up?”