"Really? Don't you care about your friends?"

Charlotte paused. "What do you mean?"

"I have someone here who wants to talk to you."

There was a silence. Then another voice came on the line. "Don't pay this d.i.c.khead a f.u.c.king cent, Charlotte."

"Kat?"

"I mean it, Charlotte. He's full of s.h.i.t. He doesn't have the b.a.l.l.s to do anything to me."

Another silence. And then a scream that Charlotte would remember for the rest of her life.

"Your friend was very, very wrong, Charlotte. She's bleeding now, so I suggest you hurry."

In the background, Charlotte could hear Kat crying brokenly. Suddenly, she was filled with an anger so pure and hot that everything started to move very slowly.

"Where are you?"

"Close."

"What exactly do you want me to do?"

"I want you to come and meet me, baby. I want you to write me a check for five million dollars."

"I'm not sure I have a checkbook. How do you even know I have money?"

Another chuckle. "I know everything about you, honey. Everything worth knowing."

"Really?"

"Yes. And I know there's a checkbook waiting for you at the hotel desk, and I know there's a taxi stand out front, and I know that if you hurry, maybe your pretty little friend will still be alive when you get here."

Charlotte looked around for her shoes. For a second, she wondered about calling Jackson to come with her, but no, this was her problem. She didn't need to drag another friend into this mess.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT.

The Grove is one of the biggest tourist attractions in L.A. It brings in more visitors than Disneyland and has a fountain that dances in time to Frank Sinatra. However, as far as Charlotte was concerned, it was a major pain in the b.u.t.t. Forty million people appeared to be swarming over every inch of it, and as she scanned the crowd looking for a glimpse of Kat, she started to feel overwhelmed. Maybe she should just call the police.

"Charlotte?"

Turning, Charlotte was surprised and taken aback to see Dan Robinson standing there.

"Jesus, Mr. Robinson, you scared the s.h.i.t out of me. I can't talk to you right now. I have a bit of an emergency."

Dan looked concerned. "Can I help? What's going on?"

Charlotte ignored him. She didn't have time for the reporter right now.

"No, really, can I help? Have you lost someone? It took me a while to find you, you know, since you left New Orleans."

Charlotte was distracted. "Yeah, well, I was a little bit p.i.s.sed with you, to be honest. I told you we were talking off the record, but you went ahead and published an article anyway. But really, we can talk about this another time."

"Yeah, my editors got a call from your lawyer. They weren't very happy about it."

Charlotte wasn't really listening. The voice on the phone had told her to come alone. He had a.s.sured her that he would be watching her, that if he saw she had company, he would hurt Kat again. Charlotte walked a few steps away from the journalist, in the hopes of shaking him, but he was as sticky as ever.

"Mr. Robinson, you'll have to excuse me, I'm really busy right now."

"Well, will you promise me an interview? I'm fascinated by your story, Charlotte. I want to write about it."

Charlotte flashed him a brief smile. "Well, look, Dan, let's talk tomorrow or the next day, OK? I'm trying to find Kat, and she's lost."

"Is she?"

"Yes. I have to go now, Dan." She turned, frustrated, and started to make her way through the crowd. Robinson was annoying, and she was scared that if she told him the truth about what was going on, the voice on the phone would see her talking too much and hurt Kat. She had to face this alone.

The Grove was located next to the old Farmers Market, and the crowds moved between the two places easily. A free trolley ran between them, and as one pa.s.sed Charlotte, she jumped on, thinking maybe she would see Kat from the top deck.

It was empty up there, and Charlotte moved from side to side, searching the crowd and trying to ignore the rising panic she felt. Was this always going to be a possibility? That mad people would endanger her friends, herself? If something happened to Kat, she would never forgive herself and never rest until she found the man responsible.

The trolley had stopped at the Farmers Market end of the track and was taking on pa.s.sengers for the return trip. Peering over the edge, she saw Dan Robinson getting on and frowned. Really, he was the most persistent and irritating man alive. She heard someone mounting the metal stairs to the top deck and wasn't surprised when it turned out to be him.

"It's nice of you to think of helping, Mr. Robinson, but I'm really better off alone."

He stood there, saying nothing. She noticed he was wearing the same outfit he'd been wearing in New Orleans. He looked at her strangely.

"Are you OK, Mr. Robinson?"

"Call me Dan."

"Are you OK?"

He nodded and suddenly smiled. "Did you bring your checkbook, Charlotte?"

She gazed at him in horror. "What did you say?"

"You heard me." He chuckled, a sound she recognized for the first time. "Who else could it possibly be but me, Charlotte? You're so focused on yourself, you never really see anyone else, do you? No wonder Kat was so easy to pick off. You never considered that she might be in danger. All she knew was that she'd seen me with you before, and when I stabbed her, she was really surprised." He laughed again, apparently delighted.

Charlotte sank onto one of the trolley seats. "But ... why?"

"Why? I told you. Your father destroyed my parents. You're going to make it better for them. Plus interest, of course. From the day the story broke, that day in the park, I knew I was going to get to you, going to take our money back. You're weak, Charlotte, and I am strong. You're young, your money will sit in the bank, and by the time you're the age my parents are, you'll be rich again if you don't do anything stupid."

Charlotte was angry. "What, like invest my life savings with a criminal?"

His face flushed. "Your father was a very convincing con man, Charlotte. You've inherited that skill, and people like Kat and Jackson believe you really care about them, when all you care about is who's going to look out for Charlotte."

The trolley started up again with a jolt, and Robinson grabbed the rail for support.

"Anyway, although this has been a pleasant chat, your little friend is bleeding to death in a car on the top level of the car park, and I'm in need of that check."

He pointed at her. "If you do anything to stop payment on it or try to track me in any way, I will pick off another one of your friends. Or I'll wait a few years until you have children, and I'll grab one of them. But I'm an honorable man, and if you give me the money, I'll run away somewhere nice and sunny and never bother you again."

"How can I possibly trust you? You can't even keep a conversation private."

Robinson pulled a knife from his pocket. Its blade was still wet with Kat's blood.

"I actually don't give a s.h.i.t if you trust me or not. All I care about is that check. Write it now, or I'll kill you and then go back and finish off your friend. I'm just too p.i.s.sed off at this point to accept anything other than lots of money or your dead body. Your choice, Charlie."

As she stood there, she realized she could hear people laughing and talking, that all around her, stores were doing business, movies were playing, popcorn was popping. It reminded her of when her father was arrested in New York, this sense of life going on while hers stood still. In a moment like this, money became utterly irrelevent. She reached into her bag and pulled out her checkbook. The trolley stopped; something was wrong. She looked at Robinson-he knew it, too, and was frowning. She looked over the edge of the trolley rail. Everyone was getting off the trolley, and fast. They were right next to the fountain, which was going through one of its regular light and sound shows, its jets shooting impossibly high in the air, level with where she was sitting. People were looking up at her and pointing.

She looked over at Robinson again and saw why.

Scarsford. Gun drawn, he was standing at the top of the stairs.

"Hi there, Charlotte," he said softly. "Are you OK?"

She nodded. "Kat ..."

"We have her. She's on her way to the hospital now." He lifted his arm and pointed his gun at Robinson. "Dan Robinson, you are under arrest for extortion and a.s.sault with a deadly weapon. Why don't you put down your knife and come with me? There's no need for this to get out of hand."

Robinson looked irritated. "What the h.e.l.l? Why are you even here? She's not under your protection."

Scarsford didn't move. "The SEC and the FBI are both keeping an eye on Miss Williams in case any of her father's victims decide to take vengeance into their own hands. We've been watching you ever since we discovered you were responsible for the Web site."

"You are? Why?" Charlotte was confused.

"For fun, you stupid b.i.t.c.h. Torturing you was the only thing keeping me going." Dan Robinson threw down the knife suddenly. "You know, this is really just too f.u.c.king annoying. Everything works out for you, you spoiled cow, and now I'm going to have to go on the run without even the satisfaction of killing you." He turned amiably to Scarsford. "You're spoiling all my fun, Agent Scarsford. And she didn't even f.u.c.k you."

And with that, he turned and jumped off the trolley, directly into the still singing fountain.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE.

When Kat woke up, the first face she saw was Charlotte's.

She spoke through cracked lips. "What am I wearing?"

Charlotte's mouth twitched. "A hospital gown."

Kat carefully tipped her head so she could see. "Gray? Really?"

"It's not actually that bad on you, to be honest. It sets off your hair nicely."

Kat closed her eyes. "Oh, good. And presumably, I'm attractively pale?"

"Like Garbo in Camille Camille."

Kat smiled. "And I'm going to live?"

Charlotte nodded. "Yes. You're going to be in here for a few more days, though. But that's just as well, because it's a freaking madhouse out there."

"Why?"

"After Robinson jumped into the fountain and impaled himself on a floodlight, the crowd at the Grove all pulled out their cell phones and tweeted photos all around the world. In about thirty seconds, the press showed up, and Scarsford and I barely made it out alive."

Kat smiled wearily. "Oh, it was Scarsford. I thought I was hallucinating. He saved my life, you know."

"Mine, too."

"He's a bit of a stud. If I liked guys, I might go for him."

"He's handsome."

"And heroic."

"And back in New York already."

"Just as well. Did you call my parents?"

Charlotte nodded. "Your mom got here this morning. She just popped out for breakfast. We didn't think you were going to wake up for a while."

"So you were just sitting there, waiting?"

Charlotte grinned. "Yup. If you think I'm letting you out of my sight for quite a while, you're very much mistaken."

Kat smiled back at her. "OK, then, I think I'll go back to sleep."

"Do that. I'll be right here."

"Thanks, sweetie."

Kat's eyelids fluttered, and she slipped back into sleep. The doctors had been very worried about her for a while. She'd lost a lot of blood.

Charlotte sighed and watched her friend sleep. There was nowhere else she would rather have been in the world.