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“Fine,” she says.

  I get Miranda on the phone and ask, “Are you up for meeting a friend of mine?”

  “Of course. When?”

  “Right now. I’m in room 228.”

  “Give me ten minutes. I’m still in the mall.”

  “See you then.”

  I click the phone off.

  Callie says, “She’s going to be angry.”

  “Miranda? No way.”

  I pause a moment, then say, “Why would you think that?”

  “You brought her to Vegas to be with you, then sent her to the mall to shop. That’s very sexist, making her shop alone.”

  “Well excuse me, Gloria Steinem, but I’ve been rather busy just now, discovering and trying to figure out how to dispose of a dead body and clean up a crime scene. I suppose the politically correct thing would be to bring a date to the next killing.”

  “No need to get defensive.”

  “How could I not? You just accused me of treating Miranda badly.”

  “You probably told her you had business to attend to.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Now she’s going to come to the room and see an unmade bed, and the two of us sitting alone in a hotel room, having dinner together.”

  “It’s not like Miranda and I are a couple.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Callie says.

  “About what?”

  “She’s a woman, Donovan, and…wait. Do I really need to explain this to you?”

  “Yes.”

  Callie puts her fork down, gets to her feet, and sighs. “Look. I don’t care what you’re paying her. If she’s as nice as you say, she’s probably got feelings for you. And if so, she’s going to feel slighted.”

  “Slighted?”

  “Insulted. Hurt. Abandoned.”

  Callie knows I have abandonment issues.

  “You added that last part for my benefit,” I say.

  “Everything I said was for your benefit, Donovan.”

  I think about that a minute. Then say, “Why do you care if I hurt Miranda’s feelings?”

  She shrugs.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I’m a woman.”

  “When one suffers you all do?”

  She gives me an odd look, like maybe I said something intelligent by mistake. She shakes it off and says, “I’m your friend, Donovan. I care about you. I want you to be a better man.”

  We look into each others’ eyes. As always when that happens, a surge of warmth floods my body.

  Callie says, “Call her back. Tell her to finish shopping. Say you’ll meet her in your other room in an hour. By then the cleaner will be here.”

  “Then what?”

  “Wait for her to take a long, hot shower. Let her get all dolled up and have her put on one of her new outfits. When she does, tell her she’s so beautiful she takes your breath away.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then drive her to my place to meet me and Gwen. She’ll think we’re pretty, but she won’t feel threatened.”

  “Why would she feel threatened in the first place? She’s a hooker!”

  “She’s a woman, Donovan, a woman with deep feelings for you. She wouldn’t give you this much of her time if you weren’t important to her.”

  “Anything else?”

  “While you’re at my place don’t show Gwen or me the slightest interest. Dote on Miranda the entire time. Brag on her. Be proud of her in front of us. If Gwen happens to make a snotty remark, defend your lady. That’ll make her feel special.”

  I nod slowly, then smile. “Everything you said makes perfect sense.”

  “You should be used to that by now.”

  I laugh.

  She laughs.

  I ask, “Why are you so eager to help me with this?”

  “I…who knows?”

  “Tell me.”

  “I…I just…” Her hand rises toward her face, but changes direction at the last moment and falls lightly on the highest point of the chair beside her. There’s something different in her eyes. A slight sadness?

  And her voice.

  She only spoke a handful of words just now, but her voice was different, somehow. It had a certain depth to it. A warmth I’d never heard before.

  And excuse me, but did I just witness Callie’s inability to complete a simple sentence?

  Something’s changed. Something I can’t quite wrap my brain around. It’s all very mysterious, nebulous, and minute, as if a tiny shift occurred light years ago in a distant galaxy, and finally made its way to the planet Earth, into the room where Callie and I are standing.

  I feel a tremor. Something stirring inside me.

  Whoa, get your mind out of the gutter. I’m not talking about sex.

  This is something vastly more important.

  I can’t take my eyes off her. “You were about to say something. Tell me.”

  Callie lowers her eyes. “Just that I want the best for you.”

  “And?”

  “And I always will.”

  She raises her eyes and locks them on mine. “I want you to have the best possible life, Donovan.”

  She turns away quickly, picks up her purse—handbag—and walks to the door. She gives me one last look before leaving, and says, “I wish this for you with all my heart.”

  “Callie?” I say.

  But she’s gone.

  I close my eyes, replay the scene in my head.

  And it hits me.

  This place, this time, this conversation. After all these years, it finally comes together for me. Hits me like a ton of bricks. Callie, my one true friend, the only person who’s always been there for me—showed me a side of her she never shows, and...

  And it tipped the scale. Made me realize what I’ve known all along, but never allowed myself to acknowledge.

  I’m in love with Callie Carpenter.

  It’s always been there, under the surface. I’ve always—you know, loved her.

  You know. Like a friend. And always thought of her as an amazing, unattainable sexual being. She’s still that, of course. I mean, nothing’s really changed regarding our relationship. Callie’s still my best friend and trusted co-worker. And yes, she’s an unrivaled sexual being. And she’s unattainable as well, due to the fact she isn’t interested in men.

  So what’s different?

  The only thing different is what I just realized.

  I love her!

  I’ll keep it from her, of course. Because if I ever said it in her presence, she’d howl with laughter.

  And yet…I do love her.

  I love Callie.

  …And wish I didn’t.

  WHEN MIRANDA AND I finally make it to Callie’s condo, I do everything Callie recommended, except that when Miranda’s not looking, I try to make eye contact with Callie.

  But all night Callie refuses to look into my eyes.

  Except once.

  It happens after we finish the bottle of wine I brought to the condo a few weeks ago. We’re sitting in Callie’s den, and the conversation has hit a mellow stopping point.

  Gwen takes advantage of the silence to ask Miranda, “When you’re fucking, and Creed’s on top, does it feel like old age is creeping up on you?”

  Callie says, “I’m sorry, Miranda—”

  But Miranda waves her off and addresses Gwen saying, “When Donovan honors me with sex, he’s the only man in the world. It may sound corny to you, Gwen, but he’s my treasure, and I love our time together. When my phone rings and I see it’s him on the line, I feel like the luckiest woman who ever lived.”

  That’s when Callie looks me in the eyes.

  To underscore the fact Miranda defended me.

  Callie says, “Miranda, I can see why Donovan is so attracted to you. You’re beautiful, brilliant, classy, and everything else he bragged about when describing you to me earlier.”

  “Oh really?” Gwen says, her voice rising in anger. “Then why don’t you fuck her!” She get
s to her feet and stomps to the bedroom, and slams the door behind her.

  “I should apologize for my roommate,” Callie says. “She’s had a bit too much to drink.”

  Miranda says, “Don’t apologize. It can’t be easy having a whore in the house. Please tell Gwen I think she’s beautiful, and has a great sense of style.”

  Callie laughs. “You’re amazing!”

  “I told you Miranda was one of a kind!” I say.

  Callie says, “I agree. But Miranda?”

  “Yes?”

  “Is there anything you’d like me to pass along to Gwen with regard to her manners?”

  “Tell her I think she’s funny,” Miranda says. “And tell her I like her.”

  Callie says, “You don’t have to be so sweet. Gwen’s temporary.”

  Miranda raises an eyebrow. “You’ve got someone else in mind?”

  Callie lowers her voice and whispers, “Dani Ripper.”

  “Oh, wow! You know her? Wow!”

  Callie says, “We haven’t met, but Dani’s husband just died. We saw it on TV tonight.”

  Miranda says, “Seriously? God, that’s tough. She’s had a rough life, hasn’t she?”

  Callie says, “Until now, she has. But this is perfect timing! I’ll put a smile on her face.”

  Miranda forces her own little smile, and says, “Should you give her time to grieve first?”

  I say, “Callie’s a pro at dating the recently widowed.”

  Miranda says, “There’s a story here!”

  Callie says, “I began dating Gwen the night her husband was murdered.”

  Miranda looks at me, unsure how to respond.

  Callie laughs and gets to her feet. She says, “We should call it a night. Miranda, go easy on Donovan tonight. He’s very fragile.”

  “No way!” Miranda says, laughing.

  Callie says, “Donovan, she’s charming.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  Callie hugs Miranda.

  I reach to hug Callie goodbye, but she takes a step back.

  I give her a curious look.

  She holds the door open and says, “Have a great time, both of you.”

  We walk out, and she closes it behind us.

  On the way back to the hotel I say, “What did you think of the girls?”

  “Are you asking for my general observations or a professional assessment?”

  “Both.”

  “They’re the two most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in the same room. Callie holds the power in their relationship. Gwen has anger issues, but Callie’s anger is off the charts.”

  “You think?”

  “If I were Gwen, I’d get the hell away from Callie, and fast. She’s the sort of person who appears capable of killing without remorse.”

  She looks at me and says, “Oh, shit.”

  “What?”

  “These are your friends. I’m saying bad things about them. I’m sorry.”

  “No, seriously. Don’t hold back. I want to know.”

  “Callie’s anger toward Gwen tells me she knows about the affair.”

  “What affair?”

  She looks at me again. “The affair between you and Gwen.”

  “What?”

  “I’m wrong about that?”

  “No. But how did you know? Gwen made nasty comments about me all night!”

  “Gwen attacks you in front of Callie to prove she’s not interested in you. But those comments infuriate Callie.”

  “I don’t see that at all.”

  Miranda smiles. “No, you wouldn’t. But trust me. Every time Gwen looked in your direction, Callie bristled.

  “Callie’s very possessive. It hurt her when Gwen cheated.”

  Miranda shakes her head. “It hurt her to see you and me so happy tonight, too.”

  “It did? Why?”

  She laughs. “You must be the most naïve guy on the planet.”

  “Why?”

  “Callie’s in love with you.”

  “What? That’s crazy. She likes women, not men.”

  “If Callie put a sign around her neck saying I Love Creed! it couldn’t be more obvious.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. She wouldn’t even hug me goodbye tonight. Not to mention I’ve tried to put the moves on her a thousand times!”

  Miranda howls with laughter. When I ask her what’s so funny, she laughs harder, and laughs all the way back to the hotel.

  She finally says, “Please. No more. I can’t take it. My sides are hurting.”

  I still don’t know what the hell is so funny. Or why Callie wouldn’t hug me tonight.

  “WE’RE GOING GAMBLING?” Miranda says. “At this hour?”

  It’s early morning. Although Bob Koltech is waiting at General Aviation to fly us to Highland, Illinois, I suddenly ask the limo driver to swing by Caesers Palace for a few minutes, causing Miranda to wonder if I’ve been hit by the gambling bug.

  I hold up my phone and say, “I just got a text message from Kimberly. She and her boyfriend broke up last night, and she spent the night at Caesers.”

  “Well, she’s young,” Miranda says. “They’ll probably be back in each others’ arms by midnight.”

  “I hope not.”

  She arches an eyebrow. “You don’t approve?”

  I smile. Miranda couldn’t, and shouldn’t know that Kimberly killed her boyfriend last night. She might jump to the conclusion we have a dysfunctional family.

  “I like the kid just fine,” I say. “I don’t approve of his job.”

  She smiles. “The kid?”

  “Chuck.”

  “And what’s Chuck’s job?”

  “He’s a pre-rapture pet salesman.”

  Miranda laughs.

  “What?”

  “I don’t approve of the kid, either!” she says.

  We get to Caesers and I go up to Kimberly’s room alone.

  First thing she says is, “Are you going to give me a lecture?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Really, Father?”

  “Well, a short one.”

  She sighs, and motions me to enter her hotel room.

  “I have a major history with Sam Case,” I say. “That’s how he found and targeted you.”

  “I know. Sam told me everything before he died.”

  “By everything, you mean?”

  “He said you stole his wife and ruined his business. Is that true?”

  I try to think of a nicer way to put it, but I think she’s already put it the nicest way possible.

  “I’ll take your silence as a yes,” she says.

  “I ruined his business,” I said, “but his business was illegal.”

  “Oh, please.”

  I shrug.

  “And the wife? Can I assume she forced herself on you?”

  “Not at first,” I say. “But regardless, he had no right to punish me by manipulating you into becoming a killer.”

  “Sam didn’t do that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sam only found me a few weeks ago. Some other guy started the whole gain-my-trust-and-turn-me-into-a-killer thing. Then he turned it over to Sam.”

  “What other guy?”

  “Sam called him Darwin.” She looks at me. “Are you okay?”

  I nod.

  “So what’s the lecture part?” she says. “I should’ve called you first?”

  “No. I understand why you didn’t.”

  “Then what’s the lecture about?”

  “Sam stole my identity. Probably had a broader plan to clean out my bank accounts some day. But anyway, he checked into the hotel under my name. Which means—”

  “Shit. I killed him in your hotel room and walked away.”

  She frowns. “I suck at this.”

  “No. You’re amazing at this. You just need some training.”

  She looks up at me. “So…I can still work with you?”

  “For me. Not with me.”

  She smi
les.

  I say, “Are you okay?”

  “You’re asking because of the way I cut him up?”

  “Yup.”

  “I never used a knife before. The knife made it so...uh…”

  She’s searching for the word. I provide it.

  “Personal.”

  “Yes, exactly! The knife made it so personal. It was hard, cutting through the tendons, and when all that stringy stuff scraped and clicked, it was completely unexpected.”

  “Maybe we’ll ask Santa to get you a sharper knife.”

  “Good, ’cause it took forever to saw through the muscle fibers. And who’d have known how much blood would spurt? And how far?”

  “You knew, because you didn’t get it on your clothes.”

  “Right. But still, it was really gruesome.”

  “And?”

  “I keep reliving it, over and over, in my mind. The look of terror on his face. The helplessness in his eyes.”

  “And?”

  “And every time I re-live it, I feel better about what I did to him.”

  “That’s what we call a good kill, honey.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  WE’RE ON THE jet now, wheels up. Maybe’s going to spend some time with Callie this afternoon, so we can get a better handle on how competent she is and how much she needs to learn. I suspect Darwin helped her obtain the physical skills and emotional mindset necessary to kill people, but she’s obviously got a lot to learn about the technical aspects of the business.

  The good news is she’s young, and eager to learn.

  The better news is she’s got Callie as a trainer.

  The best news is she’s a natural.

  I’d go on and on about it, but Sal’s calling me.

  When I answer he says, “You’re not gonna believe this shit!”

  “Tell me.”

  “You know my niece?”

  “Which one?”

  “Sophie Alexander.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah you do. You met her at my birthday party. When you were with—whatcha call—”

  “Kathleen.”

  “Whatever. Okay, so you don’t remember, no problem. Anyway, I got this niece—”

  “Sophie Alexander.”

  “Right, and she’s a singer and songwriter.”

  “Wait,” I say. “I remember her. Cute brunette. Big hair, sweet voice.”

  “That’s her!” he says.

  “What about her?”

  “She’s gonna be—whatcha call—performing at my Fourth of July party.”