"Her ..." Greg began, but couldn't seem to finish the rest of the thought.

"Si," said the senator, and nodded sagely, as if only his calmness in the face of Laney's impending marriage would keep the world from spinning out of control. "Her husband to be." said the senator, and nodded sagely, as if only his calmness in the face of Laney's impending marriage would keep the world from spinning out of control. "Her husband to be."

I think Kevin swore and I'm quite sure Greg crossed himself.

"But thank you for your diligence," Rivera said. "I shall surely keep your constancy in mind should I have security needs of my own in the future."

They both looked a little like somnambulists, hoping to awaken soon. "Thank you," Greg said.

"Very gracious of you, sir," said Kevin, and then they wandered off, surely questioning the hapless humor of the cosmos.

"Well then," said the senator, rubbing his hands together and turning back toward me, "where were we?"

I dragged my attention regretfully in his direction.

"Ahhh, yes, I was inquiring about your origins," the senator said, and lifting an elegant hand, waved me toward a tall, just-vacated table. It was the approximate size of a pansy petal. "Please, let us sit." He smiled. "So that you can tell me every tiny detail of your life."

Oh, dear G.o.d. "There is only tiny to tell," I said.

"Don't believe a word of it, Senator," Laney said. "Fani's life could be a novel. Already I feel as if I've known her for years."

"I will listen with rapt attention to every word that falls from her lovely lips," Rivera said, and Laney grinned as she turned away, but Solberg remained as he was, scowling with what looked like painful intensity.

"Don't you have a dress kind of like that, Angel?" he asked.

She laughed like a s.a.d.i.s.t in a sweatshop. "I missed you," she said, and kissed his cheek.

His eyes immediately a.s.sumed that glazed look I had seen Laney invoke in the male species since her fifteenth birthday.

"You're the light of my solar system," he said, and suddenly even being seduced by Rivera's overs.e.xed father seemed more appealing than hanging around the two of them.

I turned toward him. "So you are senator?" I said in broken something or other.

And Laney laughed again.

22.

Only a dumb s.h.i.t brings a water pistol to a gunfight. I ain't no dumb s.h.i.t.-Vincent Angler, armed and dangerous "Fani Kolarova?" Vincent said, and grinned across the acre of plush backseat at me.

"I couldn't really run with Jessica Rabbit," I said, and he grinned, his teeth whiter than the b.u.t.tery leather seats.

"Did you find out what you needed to know?"

"I don't know," I said, and sighed.

"You didn't get no readings on whether one of them is the dude who's sending your friend the mail?"

It had been one h.e.l.l of a night, but I was almost to Sunland. Almost to bed. "I'm going to have to give it some thought," I said.

He nodded. "And your friend ... she still ain't got no name?"

"Sorry."

He gave a "That's cool" shrug. "You want me to get rid of the dude that's bothering her?"

"I don't know who he is."

"That's gonna make it harder."

"Story of my life."

The driver pulled the limo up to the curb.

"Well, it's been real, Ms. Kolarova," he said.

"I live to entertain," I said, and he smiled again.

"You let me know if you figure out who the dude is and I'll pop a cap in his a.s.s."

"That might be the most charming offer I've had all month," I said, and he laughed out loud as the driver opened the door for me.

We said our good-nights. I rose to my six-plus height on wobbly heels and made my way to the front door. The light was shining above it just like it was supposed to. I put the key in the lock, let myself in, and disarmed my security system. Harlequin was doing the I-gotta-pee dance done by all mammals. But I took a moment to remove Laney's wig before turning him out. Letting down my squashed hair, I wiggled my fingers against my scalp, then kicked off my killer heels and tripped through the house to the back door. As soon as it opened, Harley nosed his way through, romped into the dust bowl, and squatted. I dropped a half-dozen bobby pins onto the little console near the window and released my long-held breath.

It was then that I heard a noise coming from behind the rosebushes beyond my fence. I glanced toward the house on my right. The Griffins were new to the neighborhood. They'd just moved in a couple of months ago, but it had taken less than a week for me to tire of sixteen-year-old Bryn. If she wasn't playing music loud enough to break capillaries, she was making out with one of her many boyfriends behind the garage. Not that I was jealous or ...

But in that instant, I realized something was funny. Both Bryn and her current beau were dark-haired. But one of the heads that poked up above the rosebushes seemed to be blond. Or hooded.

Or turbaned!

s.h.i.t! The truth dawned on me like the crack of a new day.

That wasn't Bryn. It was Aalia. And she wasn't alone. That much I knew even though she was only visible for a second before she'd disappeared behind the Griffins' garage.

Pawing through my purse, I s.n.a.t.c.hed up my cell and hit 911 with shaky fingers. It was busy. I ended the call and punched in Rivera's number even as I raced back into the house for my Mace.

"Is it too much to ask that this is a late night booty call?" Rivera asked.

"I think he's got Aalia!" I was back outside, gazing through the darkness and shaking like a tambourine.

"What's your location?"

"My place. I saw someone by my neighbors' garage."

"Are you in the house?"

I backed inside, hoping Harley would follow. He did. "Yes," I said, then closed my eyes for a moment and stepped outside again.

"Lock the doors," he said. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Hurry," I said, and closing the phone, stuck it in my bodice. It was a tight squeeze, but I needed it with me and mermaids don't have pockets.

My bare feet were almost silent against my dusty yard. More silent, at least, than my pounding heart. Getting over the fence was neither simple nor pretty, but somehow I managed it. I ducked up against a garage, then taking a shaky breath, peeked around the corner.

Nothing.

Mace in hand, I trotted along the building, stopped at the next corner, and glanced out. And there they were. He wore a turban and a white robe. She seemed to be in jeans. They were almost to Vine Street. Almost to the car that waited there. The engine was running.

Panic spurred through me, and then I was moving. "Hold it!" I yelled, and stepped into the open.

The pair jerked toward me. He was holding her arm. That much I could tell, but little else.

The man spoke, low and guttural, but I couldn't understand the words. They turned away.

"I've got a gun!" I yelled, and pointed the Mace at him.

He glanced over his shoulder at me. Time stood still, and then he smiled. I could see his teeth glow in the darkness.

"No. You do not," he said, and raised his arm. It took me a shattered second to realize he did did have a gun. That he was raising it. That it was pointed at me. My heart dropped toward my knees as my stomach recoiled in horror. Every instinct told me to dodge for cover, but I was frozen in place. have a gun. That he was raising it. That it was pointed at me. My heart dropped toward my knees as my stomach recoiled in horror. Every instinct told me to dodge for cover, but I was frozen in place.

A bullet pinged pinged in the darkness. I jerked at the impact, stumbling back against the garage, not feeling the pain for a moment. Another moment pa.s.sed. No agony. I glanced down and found no blood. Jerking my attention back toward the street, I saw that Aalia's abductor was down on one knee and in that moment I realized I hadn't been shot at all. in the darkness. I jerked at the impact, stumbling back against the garage, not feeling the pain for a moment. Another moment pa.s.sed. No agony. I glanced down and found no blood. Jerking my attention back toward the street, I saw that Aalia's abductor was down on one knee and in that moment I realized I hadn't been shot at all.

He had. And suddenly Aalia was racing toward me. I braced myself as she rushed into my arms, then gathered her against me, still holding the Mace, but her abductor was already stumbling to his feet, gun lifted. had. And suddenly Aalia was racing toward me. I braced myself as she rushed into my arms, then gathered her against me, still holding the Mace, but her abductor was already stumbling to his feet, gun lifted.

I shoved Aalia behind me and raised the protection spray.

It was then that another man stepped into view.

"Put it down, Turk, or I'll fry your a.s.s where you stand." Vincent Angler!

The Yemeni jerked his attention toward Vincent, snarled something as he glared at me and Aalia, then turned and leapt for the car.

Angler snapped off a shot. It pinged pinged against the door, but the vehicle was already speeding away, engine revved as it careened around the corner onto Opus. against the door, but the vehicle was already speeding away, engine revved as it careened around the corner onto Opus.

Aalia had my left arm in a death grip by the time Vincent loped over to us.

"What the f.u.c.k was that?" Even he he sounded breathless. I was about ready to pa.s.s out from asphyxia. sounded breathless. I was about ready to pa.s.s out from asphyxia.

"It's a long story," I said.

"Yeah?" He glanced at Aalia. Even in the darkness she was as pretty as a love sonnet. "Maybe you should tell it in the house, then."

The first wave of adrenaline was starting to dull, leaving me shaken and numb, but I managed a nod. Walking was a little more difficult, what with the shaky knees.

I ushered Aalia through my back door. Vincent accompanied us. She glanced up at him, shy admiration in her eyes.

"This your friend?" he asked, just now loosening his tie.

I knew he was thinking of the weird letter-writer, but there really didn't seem to be a reason to clarify at the moment. "Yes," I said.

He nodded. Aalia pressed a little closer to me.

"You okay?" he asked, and stared down at her. To the uninitiated, it might have looked like a glare. The first time I had met Vincent I had wet myself.

As far as I know, Aalia was more controlled than that. She gave one clipped nod.

"What the h.e.l.l happened?" he asked, and pulling his tie free, opened the top two b.u.t.tons of his shirt. A fair amount of firm, black skin showed above the crisp, white V.

Aalia pulled her gaze from his chest, but failed to answer. Her usually olive skin looked pale, her lips almost lavender.

"Was that your husband?" I asked.

She closed her eyes and nodded again.

"Wait a minute ..." Vincent sharpened his scowl. "You're married to that f.u.c.ker?"

I felt her wince. Maybe he did, too, because he took a deep breath and shoved the gun out of sight. A black James Bond on steroids.

"That guy was your husband?" he asked.

"Yes." It was the first word she'd spoken since I'd spotted her beside the garage.

"You separated?"

It seemed to take all her courage to raise her eyes to his. "I left him and my homeland some days past."

He glanced at her arm, then reached out and pulled back the sleeve of her jersey. She remained exactly as she was, eyes as wide as a fawn's. "He do that?" he asked.

She pursed her lips and raised her chin the slightest degree. Pride and guilt all embedded in one confusing c.o.c.ktail. Human beings-the ultimate mystery. "Yes," she said.

He glanced away. A muscle danced in his jaw. "What's his name?"

"Ahmad Orsorio."

"You gonna go back to him?"

Pride again, less fear, and a smidgen of contempt. "Not so long as there is breath in me."

Vincent stared at her. Something shone in his eyes for a moment, then he gave a short nod. "Then I'd suggest-" he began, but in that moment we heard sirens.

He raised his brows at me. "Another friend?" he asked.

"Probably."