"Are you okay? I got concerned when you didn't come to work." His

secretary stepped into his apartment, took one look at the carnage and sighed.

"Rough night, eh?"

"Even rougher morning." He picked up a beer bottle, hoping to find one last drop he'd overlooked. Unfortunately the beer fairy hadn't refilled it during the night.

"I take it your trip back to the mountain didn't go well." His stomach soured.

"You could say that."

She shifted the papers off one end of couch and perched on its arm.

"What happened? Did she-reuse to forgive you for running away?"

Alec would have shaken his head if it didn't hurt so much, "She couldn't forgive me ... he cause she wasn't Caroline's face creased in a frown.

"She was gone?"

"She was dead."

"Oh, Alec ..." f Her sympathy was more than he could take. He felt like

throwing something. Or at least throwing up. That's the problem withguilt, he thought. It makes you feel even lousier. He struggled to situp, The room tilted on an odd axis, and he pressed his palms again. this temples to steady his head.

"What happened? How did she ... die?" she asked. "Fire." The word burned his mouth.

"Gutted her cabin.

She never had a chance."

"I'm so sorry."

"Not haft as sorry as I am." He leaned back against the couch, staring

into the fireplace.

"I'm the sorry son of a bitch who got her killed."

To her credit, Caroline didn't flinch. Good little mothez-confessors

were supposed to sit back and listen without remonstration. But they

also had a way of making the silence so damned unbearable.

He groped along the floor beside the couch and found the case file he couldn't bring him. elf to burn. H shoved it in her direction.

"It's all in here. The whole filthy story. From the first time he contacled me, up to the eort I made right before I headed to the mountain."

Caroline opened the manila folder and scanned its contents.

Alec's stomach did a threo-sixty revolution.

"He said his name was Dr. Henry Barton from Mountain Point Hospital, and

he was concerned about a patient of his."

Caroline looked up from her pcsal.

"I didn't think you took any cases outside of the company any mow .

Alec drew a deep breath.

"I don't ... usually. I only took it to repay a friend of mine. Turns

out even that connection was bogus." The numbing alcoholic haze waned as

the memories swelled.

"There is no Dr. Hem Barton at Mountain Point Hospital. However, I've learned there was a Henry Bartholomew admitted there as a pot lent a cou-.

pie of years ago."

"And he posed as a doctor? Why?"

A Killer Smile "He was siccing me onto the trail of a woman who had

disappeared.

According to him, he was concerned cause sh didn't finish her treaent."

Caroline raised an eyebrow.

"But she was" -- "An innocent women he'd been stalking for Alec stared

into the fire, trying to prevent the tears forming.

"And like a good little him fight to her."

Caroline shifted so she sat beside him.

"Alec, this. Don't blame yourself."

"Why not? I did it. Simple as that."

She leveled him a sharp glance. to the mountain? If you you just givehim the location and wash Alee probed his hesitant memories.

wanted to make sure for myself she That she was the same mi. guided mein so much detail. I knew vague details as a stalking victim, and Iguess I wanted to be "Then somewhere in the back of your doubled him."

Alec shrugged.

"I guess I did."

"And if he hadn't hired one else who would have merely localxi her,away." She placed a hand on his shoulder. didn't walk away.

You went to the mountain to information. And if you hadn't been injured,have discove the truth. You would have "I would have saved her? Probablynot." Alec away from the comforting gestures he didn't deserve, Carolinestood as well, reachiqg up to on his shoulders.

"You can't be sure about man was thorough enough to penetrate ,4 KillerSmile paused to narrow her eyes " --then she stood no chance at all. Yougave her some time, Alec. That was the best you could have done."

The best I could have done. It would never he good enough.

SOMA Tn m,OUSD MDMAHR, his exhaustion got the best of him. He'd halfconvinced himself to believe Caroline, to believe he'd acted out of somesubliminal sense of p-caution. Maybe he'd read something into "Dr.Barton's" telephone calls or read something into the back-slantedhandwriting. Too bad they'd never met face-to-face.

Maybe he would have recognized the 'picture Ellen had shown him.

Maybe that could have broken through his blocked memories. Maybe thatcould have saved Ellen. Maybe-- He stopped.

Too many maybes. He needed to believe in something concrete, to dosomething concrete. He stared at the file folder, then glanced towardthe fire.

No, it's too easy to simply chuck the whole thing into the fireplace andbe done with it. : He knew this sort of absolution required a sense of ceremony.

Stalking into his office, file in hand, he. sat down at his desk.

Reaching into a bottom drawer, he pulled out a humidor and a large glassash Way He eairacted an expensive dgar, which had been a gift from aclient celebrating a successful case.

But this was no celebration. This time he was performing a liturgy.

An elegy. A wake.

He rolled the tobacco-filled cylinder between his pal ma lifting it to his nose and inhaling deeply. He inhaled a second time after he lit thedgar, appreciating the rich tobacco smoke, soothing, reassuring.

A Killer Smile A Killer Smile Touching the tip of the cigar to the firstpage of his ill-fated report, he tossed the burning paper into theashtray.

The ink flared green, moments before the paper blackened, curled, thendisintegrated.

Green. the color of envy, greed, obsession.

He lit a second sheet, watching the paper turn to ash. And black. thecolor of death.

If you could only burn away the guilt as efficiently. He reached intohis drawer and pulled out a bottle of scotch and his lucky shot glass.Another gift, another client.

Pouring out a couple of fingers, lie raised his glass in salute.

"Here's to Ellen and Tests." He drank the scotch, then turned the glassupside down on his desk. Savoring the smoke from his cigar, he blew itout in a lazy ring and closed his eyes.

I ORES'It a lungful of smoke. It was a good Havana, but I couldn't stopto enjoy it. I touched the tip to the fuse, which sputtered, then caughtfare.

After stubbing out the cigar, I tugged the gas mask into place, thentossed the bomb through the open window. Once the initial confusion-diedaway, I entered the room with my gun ready.

The gas had done its job. The sentries slept peacefully on the floor.

I removed the gas mask, hid it, then entered the banquet hall, pleasedthat the gun fit neatly into the under-arm holster without disturbingthe lines of my tux. I crossed the room, ignoring the smiles of thelovelies who gave me the eye. What I do in the line of duty . I barelyglanced at the man behind the bar.

"Tonic." I scanned the crowded dance floor.

"Have you ID'd her yet?"

The bartender nodded.

"The one in pink, by the punch bowl."

I spotted her. Her simple style made her stand out in the crowd ofunbnaginative, overdressed glamorettes. I threaded my way across thedance floor as she retreated behind a potted palm. Moments before Ireached her, she'd spilled her punch on her dress. The oldhandkerchief-and-knight-in-stu'mng-armor ploy worked perfectly, and soonshe was paying little attention to the party. My impeccable charm hadagain worked its usual magic.