"Don't know."

"Drugs maybe?"

"Like I said, no clue."

"What was that bit about her wearing a wire? Is she a government informant? And if so, whose?"

Steve shrugged and threw up his hands.

I looked at Victoria's legal pad. She had printed in neat block letters: WHERE IS NADIA?

My question exactly. We needed her to win the case.

I was enjoying working with Victoria. Enjoying her company, too. I made a mental note not to get too damn enamored of the lady lawyer.

"I read the arrest report and asked George Barrios about the wire," I said. "He claims not to know anything. Says for sure it wasn't a city investigation."

"You already talked to the chief of Beach homicide?" Solomon asked.

"On the way over here."

"You guys are pals?"

"Actually he arrested me once. When I was cleared, he apologized."

"Tell him he's gonna have to send me roses and chocolates."

"Let's win first; then I'll tell him."

"Barrios is an asshole." Solomon sounded frustrated.

"He'll give you a fair shake," I said. "He's smart and honest, and lots of cops are neither."

"I suppose you're friends with State Attorney Pincher, too."

"Over the years, I've found it helps to be on good terms with the chief prosecutor."

"Why-so you can plead your guy out and go fishing?"

"If we had the time, I'd explain the finer points of lawyering to you, Solomon."

"I got nothing but time."

"Consider me a rocky island in the middle of a raging river. You're a capsized soul floundering in the water, headed for Niagara Falls. Now, you can reach out and try to grab hold of me, or you can try to swim against the current. Entirely up to you."

"I want a warrior, not an island. I'd always heard you were a tough guy, Lassiter, but frankly, I don't see it."

"You'd be surprised. They don't call me a shark for my ability to swim."

"A shark without teeth is just a mermaid."

"Boys!" Victoria wrinkled her forehead and pointed a finger at Solomon, then at me. She could have been an elementary school teacher with two unruly students. "Just when you were working so well together."

She was right. We needed to get back on track. "What about Gorev's brother dropping a woman down a pit six hundred meters deep?" I said. "What the hell was that about? And saying that Nadia and the jeweler know the place. What place? What jeweler? And Aeroflot 100? What's the big deal about that flight?"

"You got me," Solomon said.

On her legal pad, Victoria wrote, WHO IS THE JEWELER? WHAT ABOUT AEROFLOT 100?

So many questions. It was still early in the case, but not too early to be worried. I felt as if I were boxing blindfolded and with one hand tied behind my back.

"You know the weakness of the state's case," Solomon said.

"Not yet."

"C'mon, Lassiter. Motive! Why would I kill the guy?"

Solomon was both right and wrong. Technically, the state doesn't have to prove motive in a murder case. It has to prove the who and the how . . . but not the why. But the jury wants to know motive. Just why would Steve Solomon plug a total stranger?

"Because you're in love with Nadia," I said.

"What!"

"Barrios's theory."

"That's so insulting," Victoria said. A lover's response rather than a lawyer's.

"You were so smitten you agreed to help her rob Gorev," I went on. "Barrios is looking for evidence you've been sneaking over to the Beach for a quickie now and then."

"He won't be finding any, because it isn't true." Solomon's eyes flashed with anger. To me, he sure looked as if he was telling the truth.

"When that fails, he'll go to the femme fatale option," I said. "Nadia really did come to your office to hire you. Told you how Gorev is always shortchanging her, and how he keeps cash in an office safe. So, you two were just going over to get her passport and collect what was owed, and she would show her B-girl gratitude with some tricks she learned in the motherland."

"So sex is the underpinning of the case?" Victoria's voice was part astonishment and part anger.

"Jurors love sex," I said. "Keeps them awake."

"This is ludicrous," Solomon said.

"Anyway, things go south. Gorev tells you to kiss your shyster ass, maybe threatens to turn Nadia over to INS or ICE. You shoot him. Nadia takes what she's owed and everything else in the safe and leaves you holding the smoking gun."

"Felony murder under Section 782.04, subsection one-A, two-D," said Victoria, Ms. Smarty Pants. "The unlawful killing of a human being while committing robbery. It's treated as first-degree murder when the robbery victim is killed."

"No way they go for the death penalty where the victim is a Russian gangster," I said. "But under the statute, there's only one other possible sentence."

"Life without parole." Victoria let out a long, slow breath.

"This is bullshit!" Solomon said. "All I did was go to the club to help Nadia get her passport and back pay. I didn't shoot anybody."

We were all silent a moment. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Victoria scribbling on her legal pad. This time, the letters were smaller. I don't think the note was for the case, but rather for her to ponder. Feeling as if I were a Peeping Tom, I turned away but not before I saw the painful words: WAS STEVE SCREWING NADIA?

-9-.

Stand Your Ground Solomon Victoria and I were on our way out of the godforsaken jail and headed for our cars. The earlier rain had stopped, but now storm clouds had gathered over the Everglades to the west and were headed our way. One of those bifurcated skies. To the east, over the ocean, pure blue with a few puffy white clouds. To the west, barreling toward us, a churning black sky with bursts of lightning, like the coming of aliens in a sci-fi movie.

"Do you know the irony here?" I asked.

"Not really," Victoria said.

"Your boyfriend would have a better story if he'd told the cops he shot Gorev."

"Hmm."

She wasn't listening. I thought I knew why.

"Listen, Victoria, if we were playing baseball, this would be the big leagues."

"Meaning what?"

"If you're batting and the state is pitching, get ready to hit the dirt. They'll be throwing at your head."

"You're talking about Detective Barrios."

"And he's the nicest guy we're gonna deal with. Barrios knew I'd tell you the state's so-called theory. The theme of their case. Solomon's lust of the Bar girl. But it's crap. They may not even go with it at trial. He's just trying to distract us and drive a wedge between you and Solomon."

"Okay," she said, pursing her lips.

"Say it like you mean it. I need you to be strong. So does Solomon."

"Okay!"

"And get ready for more crap. Next, Barrios will have some snitch in the jail telling Solomon you and I were spotted necking over cocktails at LIV."

"Necking? You're kind of a throwback, aren't you?"

"I don't tweet or blog or order pizza with arugula on top. So, yeah, call me old school. All I'm saying, expect the state to play rough."

"By spreading rumors about you and me?"

"For starters."

She smiled. "That'll give Steve a good laugh."

I gave her a sour look. "Thanks a lot."

We reached the parking lot. The sky had grown even darker, and the wind had kicked up. Paper bags from a fast-food joint swirled across the pavement.

"I mean, seriously, Jake. What are you, like fifty?"

"Forty-eight, okay? I don't put my teeth in a jar and I still drive at night."

"I'm thirty-three."

"So? I've dated younger women for years."

"You mean Dolphin cheerleaders?"

"Ex-cheerleaders."

"And South Beach models. Your reputation is replete with inappropriate women."

"Other than women who've jumped bail, I didn't know any were inappropriate."

"Really, I heard you were one of those serial seducers."

"Only in my misspent youth. I hung out with the wrong crowd."

"Football players?"

"Cops and firemen."

"And now?"

"Now, I help little old ladies cross the street . . . and sometimes tall young ones."

We reached Victoria's car and the raindrops started to fall. It was that time of year. Sun. Clouds. Rain. Sun. Clouds. More rain.

Victoria opened the driver's door and ducked inside. I stood there, getting wet.

"What did you mean before? Steve would have a better story if he told the cops he'd shot Gorev."

I thought I'd show off. "Section 776.032 of the Florida Statutes."

"Stand Your Ground law."

"Exactly. Florida's protection for scaredy-cats with guns. Total immunity. The jury never gets to hear the case if the judge buys the defendant's story."

"But the defendant must show he reasonably believes the shooting was necessary to prevent death or serious injury. And we would need the missing gun for that. Gorev's gun."

"You would think so. But do you know State versus Mobley?"