"Well, he's probably just embarrassed that you remembered him. God only knows what he was on that night." I linked my arm with his. "Come on, we have better things to do than stand around here talking about that freak." I led Anatoly out of the bar.

Jason didn't follow.

"My bike's right here-would you like a ride to your car?"

"No, I think I'll walk, I need the fresh air."

"You'll get plenty of fresh air on the bike."

I patted my hair. "I just fixed myself up. Besides, I parked pretty close. Just get yourself situated and I'll be by in a minute."

Anatoly pulled some gloves out of his helmet. "You're the boss."

God, I hoped that was true. For this to work I had to be the one in control, from start to finish. I started to walk away but Anatoly grabbed my arm and pulled me in for a deep kiss. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

"Yeah, but it never hurts to be reminded." I cautiously removed my arm. "There will be plenty of time for that at my place."

When I got to my car I placed a quick call to Marcus to verify that he had gotten the new instructions. Apparently he had, because the instant he picked up he started screaming at me about my state of mind. I quickly repeated what I had said to Jason and turned my phone off before he could argue further. No one was going to talk me out of this, not now. As I passed Baja Cantina, I saw Anatoly pull in behind me. There was no longer even a choice.

Near my place I found parking and walked him up to the apartment. I opened the door for him and he slid past me into the living room. My eyes immediately went to the base of the cordless phone. The receiver was missing. Obviously, Marcus had done as I asked and was in the bathroom with the phone. I smiled and took a step closer to Anatoly. "Thanks for giving me another chance."

"No problem, I-"

I didn't let him finish. I laced my hands behind his head and pulled him down to me. The kiss lasted for what felt like a year before he finally came up for air.

"You're all business tonight."

"That's right." I leaned in and grazed the nape of his neck with my teeth. "All business."

"This is a side of you I haven't seen before. You're much more...aggressive."

"We've been close to this on a few different occasions." I was now nibbling his ear. "I haven't been with someone in over two years. I'm not interested in setting any new world records."

"God forbid." He kissed me again. This time his tongue explored the regions of my mouth while his hands slid down my back. Then lower.

"Let's go into the bedroom." I took his hand and showed him the way, casting a quick glance at the partially open door of the bathroom as we passed.

We were at the foot of my bed now. Somehow I managed to take a moment to turn on the radio. Anatoly's kisses were growing increasingly passionate. He used one of his hands to hold me in place while the other went to my inner thigh.

"Wait..." I whispered.

But Anatoly didn't stop. "Wasn't it you that said we've let this moment come and go too many times? No more waiting. I want you now."

I tried to push away from his chest. "I want you too, but we have to use protection."

Without missing a beat, Anatoly reached into his back pocket. "Got it."

I shook my head at a speed that should have given me whiplash. "I hate condoms," I lied. "I have a diaphragm in the bathroom. Give me just a moment?"

Anatoly hesitated. "I suppose if you prefer..."

"I do." I disentangled myself, then gave him a final gentle kiss on the collarbone. "It will only take a minute. Don't move a muscle."

Anatoly's expression betrayed some kind of inner battle, but he didn't stop me from leaving the room. I closed the bathroom door and pulled back the shower curtain.

Marcus was standing there holding the phone like it was a loaded gun. "What the fuck do you think you are doing?" he asked in a low whisper.

I took a step forward. "Hit me."

Marcus just stared at me.

"Don't question it, just do it. Give me a black eye now, and then go out the bathroom window. You scaled up Anatoly's two-story building, you can scale down my three-story one."

"My God, you have finally lost your mind."

"Do it now, or he may kill us both."

Marcus's expression had changed from one of anger to one of bewilderment.

"Sophie, are you coming?" Anatoly's voice traveled through the door.

"I'll be right there. Why don't you turn the bed down?"

"Your wish is my command."

I exhaled and started to turn back to Marcus when I felt the back of his hand land heavily against my cheek. I suppressed a cry of pain and surprise as I staggered backward. Marcus caught me before I lost balance. His left hand went to my injured eye.

"Sophie..."

"Go." I pointed toward the window. "Tell the others to go home and not to call. Tell them my life depends on it."

"But..."

I pointed to the window again. Marcus shook his head and handed me the phone. He caressed my hair one last time, then climbed out the window. I dialed the three numbers.

"911 emergency."

"Please help me," I whispered. "He's going to kill me." I then pressed the mute button. They had all the information I wanted to give them for now and I certainly didn't want them to hear anything that would expose this for being the setup that it was. I covered the earpiece with my hand so Anatoly wouldn't be able to hear the dispatcher's questions. I exited the bathroom, leaving the light on and quietly closing the door behind me. I tiptoed to the kitchen and tossed the phone out onto the fire escape. They would have plenty of time to trace the call. I put my hands on either side of my neckline and tore my shirt open. Buttons flew everywhere. I heard Anatoly knock on the bathroom door, and then the creak of the door opening.

"I'm in the kitchen," I called out, "getting us some champagne." I climbed on top of a chair and pulled down an empty wine bottle that had been waiting to be recycled. Holding it I leaned against the counter and counted the seconds until he found me.

Seven seconds exactly. "Sophie, what are you doing?"

Before he could react, I kicked the kitchen stool over and smashed the wine bottle against the counter so that I was in possession of a jagged-edged weapon. I backed up against the window. "I know who you are, you son of a bitch. And I know what you've done."

Anatoly stood there in silence for a beat. Then he slowly reached down to his ankle and pulled a gun out of a hidden holster. I dropped the bottle.

"What the fuck did you do to your shirt and face?"

"Please...please don't do this. Don't kill me." Tears were forming in my swollen eye. How much time would it take the police to get here? A minute? Five?

"You stupid-I'm not going to-"

The front door flew open and two uniformed police officers burst in, their voices shouting out their identity. I heard the gunshot and fell to my knees. I saw blood on the floor but wasn't immediately sure of where it was coming from. It wasn't until I saw Anatoly clutching his wounded arm and the police apprehending him that I understood what had happened. A third police officer came in and started asking me questions, but I couldn't understand what he was saying. The room was spinning at a breakneck pace. I leaned over and threw up.

So once again I was answering questions for the police into the wee hours of the night. I told them everything, although I did allow a little poetic license over the evening's events. I told them that I had been suspicious of Anatoly for some time. I told them about the crimes I thought he had committed and the facts that had led me to believe he had opportunity. I also told them that Anatoly had asked to meet me for drinks and had convinced me that my fears were unfounded. I relented and invited him up to my apartment. But then he got too aggressive for my taste and that's when things got out of control. He hit me, I managed to call the police and then threw the phone out the window so that he wouldn't be able to hang it up before they could trace the call.... I must have inadvertently pressed the mute button. He tried to grab me but only succeeded in ripping my shirt. I tried to defend myself with a broken bottle and it was then that he pulled the gun on me.

Okay, so I took a lot of poetic license, and I completely forgot to tell them about Dena's and Marcus's roles in the whole thing. But they got the important part: Anatoly pulled a gun on me and tried to kill me.

I declined the detective's suggestions to visit a hospital for my injury, although I did allow them to take pictures of it and my ripped shirt. When I was done at the station I went back to my apartment, collected Mr. Katz (who had been bravely guarding the dust bunnies under the coffee table during the whole ordeal), and left so that the police could collect evidence and dust for prints. It wouldn't be long before they would be searching Anatoly's place, as well. I called Dena from my cell phone and asked if I could crash at her place. I had never heard her so beside herself. Within fifteen minutes she was there to pick me up. I put Mr. Katz in back and climbed into the front seat.

"Where the fuck is your head?" she was screaming as she drove toward Noe Valley. "There are risks and then there's pure stupidity. What if he had raped you? What if he had shot you before the police got there? Did you even consider those possibilities?"

"I didn't have that luxury. I had to stop him, and this was the only way."

"Oh, fuck that. We could have come up with something else. Anything would have been better than that."

"It worked, didn't it?" I asked. I turned and smiled at my annoyed pet, who was loudly protesting through the bars of his cat carrier.

"Only because you are insanely lucky. Jesus, Sophie, when Marcus told me what you were up to I almost had a heart attack and died. Died, Sophie. I haven't even hit my sexual peak yet."

"God help us all when that happens." I gazed at the rows of houses through the thin layer of dust that had settled on the side windows. "You know what's weird?"

"You, taking cavalier chances with your life?" Dena was changing gears with the force of a race-car driver.

"Anatoly pulled a handgun on me."

"Yeah, well that part actually makes sense, considering he was trying to kill you."

"None of the characters in my book was killed with a handgun. Someone in my first book was shot with a hunting rifle, and in my third book a woman was shot with a sawed-off shotgun, but no one was ever killed or even threatened with a handgun." I adjusted my position so I could take in Dena's profile. "Anatoly varied from the script."

"I guess seeing you dead was more important to him than recreating one of your novels." Her little Toyota groaned in protest as she tried to make it do zero to sixty in three seconds.

"Yeah, but that was his whole M.O., killing people in the manner they described in their entertainment medium."

"Sophie, you're not going to get this to make sense. The guy is crazy, and I mean Ted Bundy kind of crazy. Logic and consistency means nothing to people like that."

"I guess you're right." I closed my eyes to the blurred lights of the city. "Besides, I'm tired of trying to figure this all out. By tomorrow afternoon the police will have found the hatchet in his apartment and this will all be over. That's all I really care about now."

"Amen, sister."

The next day I was called into the police station and greeted by Detective Lorenzo, who was cordial if not downright friendly. The first part of the conversation went as I had anticipated. He offered some evasive apologies for not taking me seriously before-enough to partially pacify me, but not enough to get him sued. He politely inquired about my eye and if I had slept well. Then the subject of Anatoly came up.

"We found the murder weapon used in the Barbie Vega case in Darinsky's apartment. He's now being charged with that murder, along with the attack he made on you."

I sniffed at the coffee-like substance that had been offered to me. "Well, I guess you finally have your evidence, then."

"Hmm." He took a large gulp from his cup. He seemed to gain an enjoyment from the beverage that, as far as I could tell, was completely unjustified-it wasn't Starbucks. "We are checking into the possibility that he was involved in Tolsky's and JJ Money's deaths, but so far, we don't have any solids links."

"You have to find something." I scooted forward in my chair. "DC Smooth is in jail for one of those murders. You can't let an innocent man take the wrap for Anatoly."

Lorenzo put his hand up to stop me. "Don't worry. If Darinsky is the responsible party in that murder, he's the one who will do the time for it, assuming of course that he doesn't get the death penalty, which is a real possibility here."

I nodded and felt the beginnings of a migraine take up residence in my skull. I was not actively opposed to the death penalty, but the inescapable visual of Anatoly losing his life at the hands of a death-row correctional officer was more than a little unsettling. I sipped from my paper cup, then pressed my lips together so I could suppress the impulse to spit it out.

"I have to say, I never would've expected any of this from this guy. He's had a few minor scuffs with the law in the past but nothing major, and he has a history of being a pretty good P.I. I would have pegged him as one of the good guys."

I wrinkled my forehead. "P.I.?"

"Yep. That's his real occupation. He started as an investigator for an insurance firm, and then switched over to representing private citizens a few years ago. Get this, the last person to have hired him was Shannon Tolsky."

I spilled my coffee down my shirt. "But I talked to Shannon. We even talked a little about Anatoly-she never mentioned that."

"She says he told her to keep his employment a secret. A few weeks after taking on the assignment she fired him, didn't think he was making enough progress. I'd say there's not a lot of love lost between those two. She was more than willing to embrace the possibility that Darinsky is responsible for killing her dad."

"So, he's claiming he's been investigating the Tolsky murder?"

"Uh-huh. He says that after Miss Tolsky fired him, he continued the investigation on his own. He claims he had reason to believe that Tolsky was having an affair with a woman in the city, and he thought that she might somehow be involved in his death. He says he thinks that woman was you."

"Me?" I lurched forward, spilling more of my drink. This was getting too weird.

"You. In fact, he's clinging to the story that you set him up, that you staged your own attack, but that's a little farfetched for us. After all, you couldn't very well have punched yourself in the face-could you?"

I sat back in my seat. "No, that would be difficult."

"Plus, by Darinsky's own admission, you've never been up to his place and there doesn't seem to have been any opportunity for you to have planted that hatchet in the kitchen-so there goes that theory."

The hatchet had been in the bedroom. I recognized the trap. It was the fact that Lorenzo felt the need to set it that worried me. What would it take to get this man to believe in my innocence? I forced myself to drink what remained in my cup. "I can't believe he has the audacity to make up accusations about me, but I guess people will do whatever they feel is necessary to save their own skin."

Lorenzo offered a tight smile. "That they will. They'll need your testimony to get a conviction. I trust you'll be a cooperative witness?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I'll see you in court." Lorenzo stood up to indicate that the meeting was over.

I followed suit, smoothing my skirt before reaching out to shake his hand. "Thank you for taking care of this. It'll be nice to be able to sleep peacefully again."

He grinned and walked me to the door. "Just don't invite any more men up to your apartment that you suspect of murder, okay?"

CHAPTER 20.