"Then you're in the wrong town."

"They're too insecure, they take too much care. I have the feeling you don't need a lot of confidence-building."

"I'm not usually attracted to men who are fixers."

"Dismissing the fixer part, did you just say that you were attracted to me?"

"You can pour me a gla.s.s of red wine while I take a shower."

In my bathroom, I took off my shirt and jeans. My clothes were streaked with Ryan's blood. I held them a moment, then tossed them at the hamper and stepped into the shower. Letting the hot water run over my body, I felt like a different woman. Different from the insecure beauty Colin had loved. I ran the soap down my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and stomach. I was washing myself for Heath.

Dried off, I opened the bathroom door to let the steam out, and the smell of eggs cooking and toast browning wafted in. My heart lurched. It had been a long time since someone had cooked for me. It's always the little things.

Naked except for Colin's silk paisley robe, I stood in the kitchen. Heath faced the stove, his broad back toward me. He'd taken off his holster and jacket, placed them on a chair, and rolled up his shirtsleeves. His forearms were strong, and the watch on his wrist looked functional and purposeful.

"It's been a long time since someone cooked for me," I said. "Thank you."

He turned, fork in hand, then slowly put it down and in one fierce movement his arms were around me, his body pressing into mine, pushing me against the wall. His mouth hard on my lips. I was ripping at his shirt while he untied my sash and the robe fell to the floor. A shedding of another life. I pulled him onto the kitchen table. Silverware clattered to the floor. He sucked at my breast. My back arched and my legs wrapped around his waist. And while the eggs and toast burned we devoured each other, ending up on the living room floor.

I peered up at the two Oscars and the urn on the mantel. Then closed my eyes against them, feeling the weight of this man.

Now we sat at the kitchen table eating Lean Cuisine, having dumped the burnt food in the garbage disposal. Heath's shirt hung open, his chest bare. I had torn the b.u.t.tons off it. My robe wrapped loosely around me.

"This stuff is awful." He shoveled in the plastic food as if it were his last meal.

Sipping wine, I stared at the scar just above his heart, which my tongue had discovered earlier. "Were you shot?"

"Sniper."

"I thought they usually aimed at the head."

"I moved. But the heart's a pretty good target." He peered over the rim of his wine gla.s.s and wiggled his eyebrows at me as if we were making a joke.

"Why did you sign up?"

"Because terrorists flew planes into the Twin Towers and the Pentagon."

"For the love of country."

"You could say that."

"You still have that feeling?"

"Yes."

"I can't figure you out."

He placed his hand on mine. "I can't figure you out either. Do we have to?"

"Yes."

"Did you have Colin figured out?"

"No."

"What about Celia?"

"Back to reality." I withdrew my hand from his. "You are a relentlessly good interrogator."

"Habit, sorry."

"What about her? Why don't you tell me what you think?" I pushed my finished plate aside.

"Maybe Ryan accidentally picked the right name to give to Parson. Celia has 24/7 access to the Bel Air house. And when you called her to tell her she was in danger, the only question she asked was whether it was Parson. A man she told you she didn't know. Also the night Jenny Parson was murdered, Celia was struck in the face and then lied about who did it. Why lie? It makes me think she still hasn't told you the truth about how she got bruised."

"She says she was in her car being attacked by Ben Zaitlin around the time Jenny died."

He put his wine gla.s.s down. "Ben?"

I explained how Ben wanted to meet with Celia, the woman his father loved instead of his mother. And how he began to hit her.

"And this happened while Jenny Parson was in her underground garage being murdered?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't sound like Ben. Working for Zaitlin, I've gotten to know the kid a little bit. He's not violent. He's an insecure rich kid who doesn't know his real father. Except that he raped Ben's mother. He doesn't know how he ended up in the life he's living."

"So what are you saying? Celia made up the story about Ben?"

"First she said it was me and now she says it was him."

"But she was protecting him when she lied about you. She needed a name to give me and thought we'd never see you again."

"I'm glad we did." Taking his plate, he stood. "Are you finished?"

"Yes. Her bruises were real."

"I'm not saying they weren't." He rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. "Has she called you?"

I went into the living room and took my cell out of my purse. With the dishtowel thrown over his shoulder, Heath watched from the doorway. He seemed as comfortable doing the dishes as he did aiming his Colt.

"No message," I said. "Are you saying she was involved in Jenny's murder?"

"Maybe it wasn't her choice to be involved."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure."

"I can't see her shooting Zackary Logan."

"I didn't say she did."

"Ben would confirm her story. I mean, they're each other's alibi. And what about Beth Woods?" My voice sounded defensive and high-pitched. "She told me she had been rejected by Jenny. Or Zaitlin? She was ruining his movie. Or me? I don't have an alibi for that night. Or all the others who may have been blackmailed by Jenny?"

"I didn't realize how close you and Celia are."

"We've been friends since we were sixteen." Was it our friendship I was defending so vehemently? Or maybe I couldn't handle another betrayal? "Let's change the subject. How did you know where to find Parson's movie theater?"

"I've been following Parson for a while."

"Working for the same client that led you to the Bel Air house?"

"Yes."

"Beth Woods?"

"She isn't my client."

"Then who is it? I know you're working for Zaitlin. Why not tell me?"

"Everybody knows I work for him." He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe.

"Tell me how you knew where The Rock was." I asked.

"One night I tailed Parson there. Luis drove down the alley and parked. He and Parson went into the theater."

"Did you go in after them?"

"I didn't want them to know I had followed them. Also, I'm not suicidal."

"What were they doing in there, torturing people? Or watching old movies from the decade he was eating candy off the floor?"

"About two hours later they came out dragging a very limp man between them. They threw him into the trunk of the limo and left."

"Did you recognize the man?"

"Not from where I was."

"Did you ever hear anything about a missing man, or an unidentified body?"

"Unidentified bodies are not unusual in Los Angeles. But no, I never heard."

"Not even from your source in the LAPD?"

"Not even from my source."

"You and Detective Spangler should get different notebook covers."

He moved to me, tilted my chin up with his fingertips, and kissed me. "Time to change the subject again."

"How did you meet Zaitlin?" I asked.

He walked over to the wall opposite the boarded-up sliding gla.s.s doors and took a Swiss Army knife from his pants pocket. "I was an actor."

"Oh, G.o.d, you mean I've gone to bed with another actor?" I collapsed on the sofa dramatically.

Laughing, he reminded me, "We didn't make it to the bed. I starred in a movie called Horror on the Run. Don't tell me you never saw it?"

"I don't know how I could have missed it."

He began to pry loose the two bullets Rubio had left in the wall. My permanent chill awoke.

"I went to read for a small role in one of Zaitlin's movies and he asked me if I really wanted to be an actor. It was a good question. I should've asked myself that. I thought about it and said 'no.'" He dislodged one of the rounds. "I started doing a little security for him, and then 9/11 happened. When I got out of the Army he helped me start up my business by recommending me." He dug the other slug out. "You have something to cover these holes with? If the police come here to question you for any reason, it's not a good idea have bullets in your wall." He folded the knife and placed it and the rounds in his pocket.

From the side table I took a large framed photograph of Colin and me that had once hung on his office wall and handed it to Heath. Then I went into the kitchen and got a hammer out of the drawer and dug around to find a nail. When I returned Heath was studying the picture.

"You two look very happy," he said.

"I thought we were." I looked at the picture and for the first time noticed the strain around Colin's smiling eyes and mouth.

"I've seen people die. But I've never lost anyone I loved." He tucked the picture under his arm as I handed him the hammer and nail.

"Because n.o.body close to you has died? Or you've never loved?"

"Never been in love. Never intend to." He pounded the nail into the wall and secured the photo over the holes.

"Don't worry, Heath, I'm not going to stalk you to the ends of the earth," I said in a cold firm voice.

Puzzled, he turned from the wall. "What?" Then realizing, said, "Sorry. I'm used to setting up parameters even when I don't need to." He tossed the hammer on the sofa.

"Probably got it from your military experience."

"Maybe."

"I found out what Parson had on my husband."

"You don't have to tell me."

"I want to. Colin had s.e.x with my mother when I was away on location. My last movie. I was giving up my career for my marriage. It's cruel and uncaring what they did, but if I think about it now, it's hardly a reason to keep paying money to hide it. Except Colin knew I would've left him. Back then I was the high-maintenance insecure beauty you were talking about in the kitchen."

"Aren't you being a little hard on yourself?"

I shrugged. "I would've left him. That way I could put the blame on my mother for destroying our marriage. Not on Colin. Not on me. But on her alone. It was the only way I could've gotten back at her. The only way I could keep her from winning, the only way I could keep the battle going with her. I didn't know it then, but I see now that my conflict with her was more important than my marriage." I moved close to him. "I'm not that high-maintenance insecure beauty anymore. So your parameters are safe with me." I put my arms around his neck. Looking up at him, I said, "I want to thank you for the mindless s.e.x. You helped me forget my ghosts for a while." I kissed him, slipped the dishtowel from his shoulder, and stepped back.

"That felt like a good-night and good-bye kiss."

"Just good-night." I went to the front door and waited for him to get his jacket and Colt. I've never waited for a man to get his gun before, I thought, amused.