On the Beach I will not be scared.

I will not be scared.

If she said it enough, Victoria thought, it will work. Lassiter told her not to come here, but she wanted to know the truth, and this was the only way to get it.

She had pulled the car into an empty spot on Ocean Drive and Sixth Street. Even at 3:30 a.m., the sidewalks were crowded. Tourists, local partyers, your usual collection of young people-male and female-who looked like models or lifeguards at play. Music still poured from cafes and clubs on the west side of the street. She walked through an opening in the coral rock wall that separated the sidewalk from the beach and headed toward the water.

Ahead of her the dark ocean, the shore break a soft murmur in the night. Behind her, the lights of Ocean Drive. She angled left and started walking north toward Tenth Street, passing a children's playground; the slides and rides cast shadows across the sand.

As Victoria walked, she grew bolder and headed closer to the water, each step taking her farther into the enveloping darkness. She wished there'd been that famous moon over Miami, creamy beams riding the inbound waves. But it was a moonless black night with only the faintest of breezes.

She thought of the two men whose lives were intertwined with her own.

Steve and Jake. You've both disappointed me.

She'd always known that Steve treated the justice system like a pinball machine. He liked to smack it within an inch of the buzzer signaling "tilt." Now she'd learned Jake was pretty much the same, though he approached the system as if it were a heavy punching bag. Slug it until sand bursts from the seams.

And me?

Silly me, I believe that sign over the judge's bench: "We Who Labor Here Seek Only the Truth."

Well, tonight, she would try to get Elena to lead her to the truth, which is to say, lead her to Nadia. Putting her on the phone with Nadia would be a good start. Then, with luck, a face-to-face meeting. With Steve's mouth clamped shut, there was no one else who could tell her what happened in Gorev's locked office.

Her thoughts turned to last night.

OMG.

Just who was that woman toting a bottle of whiskey and trying to seduce Jake? The embarrassment was nearly palpable.

I'm just thankful Jake did the right thing.

A strange thought, then.

If I wasn't involved with Steve, would I go for Jake?

She tried not to answer, but her brain wouldn't listen. There was the age difference, but now it didn't seem to matter.

Yes, I would go for him. And now I better chase that thought away.

Nearly at Tenth Street. A silhouette ahead.

A woman, thank God. Just standing there at water's edge. Barefoot, her toes in the warm fizzing shore break. Long blonde hair, tight jeans and a halter top. It was Elena Turcina, changed out of her come-screw-me uniform.

"Elena!"

The woman turned and waved, then looked around as if to make sure no one else was coming. Victoria closed the distance between them, passing the darkened lifeguard stand. In the daytime, it's a round wooden shack painted bright pink with a yellow handrail. At night, just a dark cylinder rising out of the beach.

Victoria pulled off her flats and let her toes sink into the wet sand.

"I am happy you are here," Elena said.

"Likewise. You've spoken to Nadia?"

"She is so afraid-she does not know what to do. But I told her she could trust you."

"What is it she fears?"

"She was working for government against Nicolai. Alex would kill her for that and then kill her a second time because of what happened to Nicolai."

"That's why she needs my help. A lawyer to get the government to protect her."

"She wants to go see Benny. He always looked out for her."

"That might not be a good idea. He may think Nadia informed on him, too."

"But she did not. She told me she did not talk about Benny."

"But Benny may not believe that."

"This is too confusing for me. I will put you on the phone with Nadia."

In the distance, Victoria heard an engine. At first, she thought it was a boat. But then she saw the light farther south on the beach. A four-wheel ATV, the vehicle the police used. Coming their way. No law against being on the beach at night, but cops are always on the lookout for drug dealers and underage drinkers. Victoria squinted into the night, trying to make out the figure on the ATV as it picked up speed, heading directly for them.

-31-.

In the Shadows I was hidden in the dark, leaning against the trunk of a tall, spindly palm tree twenty yards behind the pink-and-yellow lifeguard station on the Tenth Street Beach. I'd been there for forty minutes, tucked away in the shadows. The nine millimeter was in its holster under my sport coat.

Jake Lassiter, the long arm of the law. Or armed arm. Or something.

I'd seen Elena arrive first, walk to the shoreline, and dip her toes into the water.

I'd watched Victoria walk north, casting glances toward Ocean Drive. And now they were talking.

So far, so good. I heard the ATV before I saw it. Miami Beach police. No worries unless the cop was drunk and mowed them down. More likely, he would stop and try to get a phone number. Cops and firemen are, without doubt, the horniest bastards on the planet.

I kept my eyes on the ATV as it neared the two women.

-32-.

"Evening, Ladies"

Did Nadia tell you about the shooting?" Victoria asked.

Elena nodded, her eyes on the oncoming ATV.

Not wanting to spook her, Victoria would take this part slowly. "Did she say whether Gorev had a gun?"

"When we get Nadia on phone, she will tell you."

Victoria took a deep breath and said, "Elena, did Nadia say who fired the gun? Who killed Gorev?"

"She will tell you story. Soon we call."

They both watched the ATV slow as it approached, a uniformed cop aboard. Dark-blue shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his bulging biceps. Young, wearing a helmet with its visor down, as if in the midday sun. He looked creepy, Victoria thought, like that Robocop character in the movies. The cop crept by, then stopped five yards in front of them. Turning, he said, "Evening, ladies. Or should I say morning?"

"Hello, Officer," Victoria said.

"Everything all right out here?" The question was polite, both in words and tone. But something was off, and Victoria felt a chill go up her spine.

"Fine. Just strolling."

"Excellent."

He put both feet on the sand but was still straddling the ATV, which idled in neutral.

Suddenly, he unsnapped his holster strap and pulled his pistol.

-33-.

Gun-Shy Just as I figured, the cop was making small talk with the pair of tall, gorgeous women on the beach. I couldn't blame him. Most nights, he probably runs into nothing but seaweed and flotsam from passing freighters.

My eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, but the three of them were still just silhouettes dimly lit by the lights from Ocean Drive. I don't know what it was then that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Maybe the way he was straddling the ATV. Both feet on the ground. Keeping his balance. Was he afraid the two women would attack him?

And then it occurred to me that it wasn't necessarily a defensive posture.

I took off at a gallop toward them just as he pulled his firearm.

"Hey! Hey!" I shouted.

If any of them heard me, they didn't react. As I reached into my holster- Three rapid gunshots.

Both women fell to the sand.

Oh God!

The driver settled back into his seat and calmly took off, headed north along the beach, then angling toward Ocean Drive. I raced toward the spot where the women fell.

Elena was on her back in the shallow water.

Victoria was facedown in the sand.

"Victoria!" I cried out.

No movement. No sound.

"Victoria!"

I was ten yards away. She rose to one knee, turned toward me. Even in the dark, I could see the panic, her features frozen.

"Where are you hit?"

She ignored me and crawled toward Elena. Rolled her over gently. Blood flowed from Elena's chest. Two wounds there. One in the middle of her sternum. Another just inches to the right. And a third entry wound, directly between her eyes, which were open and rolled back.

Two to the chest, and one to the head.

Police are taught that. But so are hit men.

I fell to my knees, wrapped my arms around Victoria, who was trembling.

"I just dived to the sand and lay there thinking I'd be dead in a second. But he never fired at me." Sobbing now. "My God. My God. Poor Elena."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm a shitty bodyguard."

"No. You were right. Jesus, Jake. I got her killed!"

"My fault," I said. "I should have been with you."

Damn it! I'd tried to protect them both and had failed miserably. Truth was, we both got Elena killed.

In the dawn of a Miami Beach morning, a few joggers and power walkers went by, scarcely paying attention to the crime scene. The Miami Beach cops-the real ones-took their sweet time interrogating us.