"Ninky dantai. Jack prefers to call them Yakuza. That is a label placed on them by the media at the behest of the j.a.panese police."

"I forgot." Jack crossed his arms. "You prefer to be called a 'chivalrous organization.'"

"You continue to impress. That is correct. It is also true."

"And you thought it was me who kidnapped her," Jack pointed out.

Replacement dropped a teacup into the sink.

Kiku turned around. "I had to rule you out."

"Have you?" Jack lifted his chin.

"You were looking for her too hard." She wrinkled her nose. "You hunt for Angelica like a drowning man seeking air."

"You went to her apartment; did you find anything?" Replacement's voice was much lower than normal.

"I found some very interesting sketches of Jack." Kiku smiled. "I wondered if you had posed, or if she had drawn you naked from memory. They were quite stunning. You seem to be Marisa's favorite art subject. That is her preferred name now, isn't it?"

"You weren't in there that long," Jack noted.

"The first time, no," Kiku replied succinctly. "I did go back."

"So you have nothing?" Replacement walked over with a cup of tea.

Jack was a little nervous that Replacement might be about to do something.

Kiku took the cup and handed back the towel as she inclined her head. The tea cupped in both hands, she walked over to sit down.

"I know two parties that have no involvement in her disappearance: you and I. Other than that, I know a few nice details about Officer Stratton." Her eyes roamed over Jack's body and left no doubt where her focus was.

She's pushing Replacement's b.u.t.tons on purpose. Testing her.

"Did you take anything from Marisa's apartment?" Jack asked.

He noticed her head tilted just a fraction and her lips started to purse. Both motions were very rapid but she stopped them just as quickly.

"Nothing."

She's telling the truth.

"Well, thanks for coming by. Since you have zip info, sorry, but you gotta go." Replacement pointed toward the door. "Bye-bye."

Kiku didn't move.

Jack leaned up against the counter. "The kid has a point."

Kiku looked into her teacup. "May I suggest we stay out of each other's way?"

Jack nodded.

"I also think it would be beneficial if we shared information. Would it not?"

"Share is the key word here," Jack said.

Kiku nodded. "Mancini's men are on the way here."

Jack's chest tightened.

How did they find Darrington? She followed me, but I couldn't have led them back here, too.

"What was missing from her apartment?" Kiku asked.

Jack stared back as he debated what to tell her. "Nothing."

She frowned. "You still do not trust me, Jack. Pity. I would think with our similar backgrounds, you would realize we are kindred spirits."

"You work for the bad guys." Jack slowly shook his head. "We're not on the same side."

"You have some knowledge of my organization. I have some of you. I have been reading up on you, Officer. You are the son of a murdered boy and a prost.i.tute. If you had been born in j.a.pan, you would have been one of us. We're the outcasts, but we protect each other."

"By hurting other people?" Jack asked.

She sipped her tea. "We watch out for those of us who are too weak to protect themselves. If someone comes after them or us, we deal with the issue. Look at you and Alice. You are her protector, no?"

"It's the other way around." Jack smiled wryly at Replacement, who glared at Kiku. "You protect each other? What happened to your pinky?" Jack nodded at her little finger, which had been cut off just after the second knuckle.

Kiku's teacup froze halfway to her lips.

He saw the flash in her eyes and swallowed hard. It wasn't anger he saw burn in her eyes; it was shame. The memory of his own caused a bitter taste to rise in his mouth.

She coolly met his gaze. "Every organization has rules. It keeps order. I violated one."

Replacement's lip curled. "And they chopped off part of your pinky? It's a good thing Jack's not in the Yakuza. He wouldn't have any hands left. He's not good with rules."

Kiku's face hardened and her jaw muscles flexed. "War is coming, Officer Stratton. If we do not find Angelica quickly, Darrington will be the battlefield. Severino Mancini is a butcher, and he will tear this town apart to find his daughter." Kiku rose out of the chair and walked over to pick up her jacket. "Or he will burn this town to the ground to avenge her."

She handed the teacup back to Replacement with a slight bow. Kiku slipped into her jacket and slid over next to Jack.

"Do you know what else they say about war, Officer?" She kept her head down as she looked up at him. "War makes strange bedfellows." A leer spread across her lips. "I appreciate the tea. I am sorry about the face."

Crazy smart Jack paced across the apartment floor. "The Mancinis are coming to Darrington. Someone tipped them off."

Replacement flipped open the burner phone but, after a minute, tossed it back on the counter. "No calls in or out. Ever. If they're coming, why didn't her brother call you?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't think he's involved in the business."

"The business?"

"His father's organization. His uncle backhanded him in front of me. Wiseguys don't show weakness within the ranks." He shot her a look. "Ilario is going to medical school. I venture that Severino keeps him at arm's length."

Replacement put her elbows on the counter as she leaned her face into her hands. "I don't get it. Don't kidnappers call right away?"

"That's the movies. They're all different. Sometimes there's no call, but if it's related to her father, they could be giving him time to raise cash."

"It's crazy to kidnap a crime boss's daughter. Why not just rob a bank?"

"It's not that crazy. In fact, it's crazy smart. Severino has to have cash. Untraceable cash." Jack paced. "And with the whole Omerta thing, they're not going to the cops."

"What's Omerta?"

"It's an honor code. They handle things themselves. It's how the Mafia started. Back in the old days, the police were corrupt, so you couldn't go to them even if you wanted to."

"So..." Replacement stuck her tongue in her cheek, "you get ready cash, and they won't go to the cops. That's smart."

"Crazy smart because it's also dangerous. The Mancinis aren't a family to take lightly. Whoever has Marisa is willing to take them on. They have guts."

"What was that deal with Kiku's pinky? How did you know all that?"

Jack shrugged. "The pinky thing I learned in Kendo. It's like j.a.panese fencing-sword fighting. You hold the sword real loose with your fingertips. When my instructor taught me to hold it with just the tips of my fingers, he told me how they punish people in the Yakuza. They start with your pinky to weaken your sword grip. They don't mess around."

"She knew a lot about you."

"I've been all over the stupid paper. d.a.m.n."

"What?"

"I may have led them here."

Jack hung his head.

"You don't know that. They would have had to recognize you and..."

Jack put his hands behind his head and then exhaled.

d.a.m.n.

"What now? Kiku found out nothing?" Replacement asked.

Jack lowered his arms. "We know she didn't take the business card."

"What?"

"I forgot about it until Kiku started talking about Marisa's apartment. There's an art contest or something Marisa's entering next week. There was a business card on her kitchen counter. Someone wrote a note for her on the back of it and offered to buy the piece she's entering in the festival. After Kiku attacked me, I noticed the card was gone. I thought Kiku took it, but she didn't know it was gone. So she didn't take it."

Replacement moved for the computer. "What do you remember about the card?"

"It was for the de Lorme Galleria."

Replacement wiggled the mouse and began to press keys. After a few minutes, the screen was covered with various websites regarding the gallery and the upcoming art festival.

"It's a local thing. It doesn't look that big." Replacement scanned the pages.

It was to her.

"Who's running it?" he asked.

"Some board. It's going to be at the Art Center," her voice acquired a fake French accent, "with a wine tasting at the de Lorme Fine Art Galleria beforehand."

"Look them up."

"Already on it."

Jack leaned over her chair as she navigated the Web.

"It's right downtown. Sw.a.n.ky." Replacement wiggled in the chair.

"Who runs it?"

"Arber de Lorme." She twirled her hand over her head and clicked the mouse. "French. Thirty-something years old. Tall. Very handsome. Rich."

"Go back to the gallery." Jack frowned. "He's not that tall."

"One second. I want to see his biography."

She continued to click and tile different windows on the screen.

"This guy's in love with his own face." Jack reached for the mouse, but Replacement blocked him with her shoulder.

"He could be a model." She clicked on another page. "Oh, he was one."

She looked up at Jack, who scowled back. "Go back to the gallery page."

"What? Are you jealous?" A little smirk spread across her face.

Jack scoffed, "No."

"Good. You shouldn't be." She reached back to squeeze his hand.

She clicked on the link for past festivals. Jack scanned the pictures of people dressed in their Sat.u.r.day night, formal best-sipping wine, looking at paintings on the walls. He cringed at the thought of being there.

Replacement made a face. "I think I'd last about five minutes at that party."

"I'd race you for the door. I-"

Jack's hand tightened on the back of the chair. In one of the photographs of an older couple posing for the camera, Marisa stood in the background, looking at a painting. She stood next to Arber. His arm was around her waist and, from the way his hand rested on her hip, it was obvious they were more than acquaintances.

"What year was that festival?" Jack felt his stomach tighten.