"What? When? How?"

"He was stabbed or shot once, right through the heart. I found him at his house."

"How awful." Marcy reached for her hand. "I'm so sorry you had to deal with that."

Gwen squeezed her friend's hand and released it. "There's more."

She took the little plastic bag containing Trudy's hairs from her pocket and tossed it onto the table beside Marcy's chair. The woman glanced at it and looked up, her face ashen.

"Where did you find these?"

"I think you know."

Marcy exploded to her feet and began to pace like a caged panther. "d.a.m.n it, Gwen, please tell me you didn't tamper with a crime scene!"

"Would you rather I left evidence incriminating Trudy?"

"Yes!" She whirled away, and her shoulders slumped. "No. But it doesn't matter what I think. If Trudy killed Kyle, you've just made both of us accessories after the fact."

"Do you honestly think Trudy is capable of stabbing a guy through the heart?"

"No, but I never expected to come home and find her trying to drag you into bed, either. She can't stand you."

"That's the cross I have to bear," Gwen murmured. "For what it's worth, I don't think Trudy killed Kyle."

"I don't either, but I trust the system to prove her innocence. You did, too, once upon a time."

"As in, before I was framed and pushed off the force?"

Marcy came back over and sat down across from her. "Gwen, I'm sorry as h.e.l.l about what happened to you, and I won't argue that the justice system is infallible, but I can't ignore all the rules just because someone I care about is involved."

"And that's the problem: I'm involved. Walsh is gunning for me. If he finds any connection at all between me and Trudy, you'd better believe the evidence will turn against her."

Marcy studied her face. "Walsh would do that? You're sure?"

"Very. He's involved with the people who held Tiger Leone's leash. They have something on Walsh-what, I haven't been able to find out. But I'm pretty sure he ordered the call that turned Tiger Leone onto Tom Yoland and Carmine Moniz the night Winston's was busted. Just last week, someone in vice set up a couple more cops who were looking into that mess. That didn't work. Now one of those cops is trying to work his way out of a murder frame-up."

"Can you prove any of this?"

"It may take a while. Until then, I'd like to keep Trudy out of the line of fire."For a long moment, Gwen watched the struggle on Marcy's face. She felt as guilty as h.e.l.l about dumping this on her friend, but she didn't see a better way to play it.

"What if Trudy..."

"One way or another, I'll find out who killed Kyle," Gwen said. "You have my word on that, by moon and star, wind and word."

Marcy looked puzzled. "What's all that about?"

"It means," Gwen said quietly, "that you can be extremely f.u.c.king certain the truth will come out."

CHAPTER TWENTY.

Gwen's phone rang as she emerged from the building.

"There's a problem at the safe house," Tamar announced.

The nun sounded more rattled than Gwen had ever heard her. "What happened?"

"It's Oscar, our English sheepdog. He was killed last night."

An unexpected wave of nausea roiled through Gwen even before Tamar's memories. .h.i.t her. She swallowed bile and tried to blink away the image of a gutted sheepdog, his long fur matted with blood.

She hadn't quite believed the tale the midwife told-at least, not until this moment.

"You're sure Erin didn't leave last night?"

"Absolutely. What does that have to do with Oscar?"

"Did anyone else leave?"

"Yes," Tamar said slowly. "We have another young mother here. Rita. She left earlier that evening, before you called. But she doesn't look anything like Erin-she's blond and a little plump."

"What about her kid?"

"A little girl, about four years old."

"Did the kid walk out with her mom?"

"No. She was sleeping and wrapped in a blanket. Rita carried her out. Where is this going?"

"Go check on Erin and call me back."

Gwen reached for the electronic gate opener clipped to her car's sun visor and pulled into Sylvia's drive.

A green Civic followed her in. She recognized Jeff's car and groaned. The last thing she needed right now was a confrontation with an irate f.u.c.k buddy.

He came out of the car like a well-groomed thunderstorm and followed her into her office. "We need to talk."

The phone in Gwen's hand sounded, and she held up a finger to indicate Jeff should wait."Erin's here," announced Sister Tamar.

Her voice didn't sound any steadier than it had during her last call. "You're sure?"

"Yes! Why do you keep asking that?"

"What about the blond woman and her kid?"

"That's where things get strange. Rita came in shortly after you last called, only she didn't have her daughter with her."

"Was this before or after you checked on Erin?"

A long silence greeted her question. "Someday you're going to tell me what's going on."

"Before or after?"

"Shortly before."

Whatever Tamar said next was drowned out by a woman's scream, shortly followed by the sound of angry voices raised in accusation and protest.

"I've got to check on that," Tamar said.

"Call me back."

Gwen clicked off the phone and turned to Jeff. The cool-off time seemed to have done him some good.

The expression on his face had dialed down from furious to merely agitated.

"You were saying?" she said resignedly.

Jeff pointed to the photo of Erin on Gwen's desk. "Who is that?"

She picked it up and handed it to him. "Someone I was hired to find. You know her?"

"No, but I've seen her around. A lot."

"Tell me."

Jeff put the picture down. "I saw her several times around the courthouse, near the office. Once or twice when I went out to lunch with Marcy, she'd be in the restaurant. I saw her once in the health club where Marcy and I worked out."

"Did you ever point this out to Marcy?"

His face turned red. Gwen caught on, and suppressed a smile. "You thought she was following you."

Jeff shrugged.

"Hey, it was a logical a.s.sumption, especially if she'd seen you in your racquetball shorts."

His grin was faintly sheepish. "Thanks. I guess. So she was following Marcy?"

"Well, since she was living with Marcy's ex-husband, that seems like a reasonable a.s.sumption. When did all this happen?""Not for a while. Four or five months ago. I haven't seen her since."

Gwen could understand why. If Erin was planning Kyle's death and needed someone to pin it on, she'd probably decided that Trudy was a better candidate than Marcy. Erin certainly wouldn't be the first among the Elder Folk to recognize and exploit a human weakness.

And they didn't stop with humans. Obviously Erin had made a point of learning about Marcy's friends.

She knew enough about Gwen to sign up for her self-defense cla.s.s. Quite likely, she knew a few things about Gwen's friends-including Sister Tamar. All that bulls.h.i.t about protecting her half-breed son was a way to get into Tamar's safe house. That gave her an airtight alibi for the time of Kyle's death.

Gwen's phone rang again. "Put Erin on the line," she said by way of greeting.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Tamar said. "She's extremely upset."

"Let me guess: She woke up and went to check on her kid, and found out that Rita's blond daughter was in the bed. Patrick is nowhere to be found, but Rita denies leaving the safe house, much less absconding with Patrick."

"How the h.e.l.l did you know that?"

"Lucky guess. Put her on."

A ragged snuffle announced that the grieving mother was on the line. "Nice touch with the dog," Gwen said softly. "You just had to rub my nose in it, didn't you?"

"She took Patrick!" Erin wailed. "My baby's gone!"

"Go ahead-work the room. But listen carefully, b.i.t.c.h: You're f.u.c.king my friends, and that's not allowed."

"What can you do about it?" Erin said tearfully.

"Don't worry. You'll be finding out soon."

She clicked off and dialed Damian's number. She'd called him on the way to confront Trudy and asked him to help watch over Tamar and her girls. There were other cops around, but Gwen wasn't convinced she could trust any of them.

"Go," he said-his usual greeting.

"Erin Westland is about to leave the safe house. How soon can you get there?"

"Can she do that?"

"Sister Tamar can't hold anyone against her will. Erin is about my size and age. Big blue eyes, long brown hair. Or she might look about thirty-five, with brown eyes. h.e.l.l, she could look like d.a.m.n near anything."

"So I follow whoever leaves the safe house, and hope it's the right person. Is that the plan?"

"I wish I had a better one."

Jeff set the picture down on the desk. "You seem busy. I should let you get back to work."

"Thanks." When he didn't move, she raised an eyebrow. "And yet you're still here.""What was in that stuff I mixed with the juice?"

She shoved both hands through her hair. "It's an herbal mix. Nothing chemical, no lasting harm. But it can be a strong aphrodisiac. You can believe me or not, but I didn't know what it was at the time."

He shook his head. "I don't know what to think. But I was out of it until nearly noon. How did you get up early to go to work?"

"I never went to sleep. After you conked out, I took a shower and left early."

"How is that possible?" he demanded. "That stuff affected you as much as it did me."

"Afraid not. Different metabolism. Listen, I don't have time to explain it right now." Since he didn't seem inclined to leave, Gwen headed for the door. He grabbed her arm and swung her back to face him.