"I know." Al said as she lost her battle with tears. "This isn't going to work, Geoff. Hernandez will never leave us alone."

"We'll catch him," I pledged.

"Then what? He'll be out on parole in less than twenty years, probably less than ten, Phil. And he'll be after me again," Al said.

Geoff cleared his throat. "I won't lie to you, Alicia Marie. You know what the criminal justice system is like. But, if Hernandez is behind this, he has some major charges to face."

"I know, but what are the chances of his being put away for good? Slim to none? He faces charges in California in connection with the death of a police officer, rape and attempted murder charges from the hospital incident, and G.o.d knows what else. Then there are the grand theft charges, the arson charge, the a.s.sault charge in connection with his hurting Geoff, and at least two counts of unlawful entry."

"That's enough to put him away for a very long time. Besides, California does have the death penalty."

"And how often is it enforced?" she demanded.

"In cases of cop killers, fairly often," I told her.

"Come on, Phil. There's no guarantee that he would get that sentence if the matter went to trial. Some smart lawyer would have him plead mentally ill and he would be placed in a hospital," Al said. "And even if that doesn't happen, he could be out of jail rather quickly. You know it, and I know it. I would be living in fear of his getting released. What kind of life is that to ask anyone to share?"

"Are you trying to call off the wedding?" Geoff asked.

Her face crumpled as the scattered tears became a steady stream.

"It isn't fair to you to ask you to marry me," she said through her tears. "It isn't ... charitable ... to purposefully place you in danger."

"What about sprout? Is it fair to him for us not to get married?" Geoff asked.

"You've already been harmed because of me? Do you think that I want to see you be killed for me? Is it fair to sprout for me to take his father from him?"

Geoff slowly rose from the sofa and went over to her. Carefully, wincing as he knelt on the floor in front of the chair in which she sat, he told her, "Baby. Don't do this.

Don't. I love you, Apple Juice."

"Don't you see, Geoff? Hernandez has to die. That's the only way that we will be safe."

"Hush, baby. Don't make threats in the presence of witnesses."

She laughed harshly. "Geoff. That wasn't a threat. I strongly believe that the only way that we are going to be rid of Hernandez is to get rid of him."

Geoff drew a deep breath. "Sweetheart."

"You couldn't live with that, could you? You couldn't live with that. One way or another, this is going to tear us apart. Slowly, he's taking everything away from me. My car, my house. And now, he's trying to take my sanity and my relationship with you."

Geoff looked at her as he took her hands in his. "He can't win if you don't let him. Fight back, 'Licia. You have to keep fighting."

"I know," she admitted. "It's just so hard to fight someone who won't show his face."

"Don't take any precipitous action," Geoff advised in his best lawyer tone. "If you come face to face with him, make d.a.m.ned sure that it is self defense, clearly and without any doubt. The last thing that either of us needs is for you to land in jail on a murder charge."

"I have no intention of landing in jail, Geoff. Absolutely no intention," she said.

Geoff smiled at her. "That's my 'Licia."

She looked over at me. I had simply stood there watching the exchange. I would never want to be on Al's enemies list. There was no doubt in my mind that she was plotting some way of taking out Hernandez, if this was Hernandez doing this.

Personally, I still wasn't convinced that it was Hernandez. That was too entirely cut and dried. Life was seldom that convenient. Geoff was the only one who could place Hernandez in the area. I still couldn't dismiss the lurking suspicions that Geoff was somehow involved in this besides as a victim.

I know that Geoff's stated theory was that Hernandez had faked his death, collected the money, and come hunting for Al. I was more than a little uncomfortable with the fact that she had accepted that explanation so readily. It was what she wanted to believe. But, if it wasn't true, then where did we stand?

If Geoff was involved in this plot, then he had to have an accomplice. The Houston girl was kidnapped while they were both in Chicago. There were so many pieces that didn't fit.

One thing was certain, Geoff was hiding something. I've known him almost all my life. He's been my best friend since we were both first graders. I know when he's hiding, lying about, or up to, something. Red flags were going off in my head about this. I didn't like it. I didn't like it, at all. I didn't like having to suspect him of mentally torturing his fiancee, of stealing her car, of demolishing her house, of kidnapping her daughter, of staging his own beating. No, I didn't like it. Not at all. However, part of me couldn't blame Al for how she felt in her desire to put the person behind all of this out of her misery. The cop part found the kind of vigilante action I thought that she was planning to be totally unacceptable. But, I understood what was driving her.

"You think that you could go through my room, first. I would like to lie down," she asked me.

"Sure thing, Al."

A few minutes later, I stood on the stairs listening to them talk. I could see into the room from my vantage point. I was going to simply go into the room, but I heard Geoff talking about me.

"You and Phil seem to be getting along much better," Geoff observed. He was seated back on the long sofa.

She didn't move from her position staring out the window onto the back garden. The set of her shoulders spoke of the tension that she was under.

"'Licia?" Geoff asked. Then he spoke to her more firmly. "'Licia!"

Slowly, she turned to face him. "Sorry, Geoff. What did you say?"

Geoff smiled at her. "You and Phil are getting along better than you used to."

Al shrugged. "Are we? I wasn't aware that Phil and I ever appeared to have problems getting along with one another. I've always liked Phil. But, maybe, there is something to what you are saying."

Geoff shook his head slightly. "I'm glad to see my girl and my best friend becoming close friends for their own sake."

"Am I really that difficult to get to know?" Al asked. "I've never thought of myself as rigid or unbending."

"You are a little intimidating," Geoff replied gently. "Not that you mean to be, but I've seen you freeze people out." She shrugged again as she moved over to a Queen Anne chair. Settling within it, she sighed. "I am so tired, Geoff."

"I know, sweetheart."

I returned to the room. In my hands was a clear, evidence bag containing a plastic bag of white powder, a syringe, a silver spoon, a partially burnt votive candle, matches, and a length of rubber hose. "Al, are these things yours?"

"What are they?" she asked, not getting a good view of the contents.

"A kit for shooting up heroin," I said. "Complete with nearly a pound of the stuff."

"You've got to be kidding!" Al almost shouted. Then her tone became more resigned. "I suppose that it wasn't unexpected that something like this would happen. Hernandez has taken most of the things that I care about from me. I suppose that it is only expected that he would try to take my reputation from me, as well."

"You are sure that this isn't yours."

"Absolutely. I've never done drugs, Phil. I'll gladly submit to a bank of blood tests and physical examinations to prove that. You can look at my arms and legs. You won't find any needle tracks there. You won't find my prints on any of that stuff because it isn't mine!" Al replied.

"I'm confiscating this kit."

"Good," Geoff stated. "The last thing that we need is to leave something like that laying about."

"When is this all going to end?" Al asked.

"To be on the safe side, since you know that there has been an intruder, you should probably go through the cabinets and throw away every bit of food that has been opened. I may be paranoid, but I can't help thinking that there might have been poison or drugs slipped into packages."

Al closed her eyes and sighed. "I'll do it tonight."

I leaned against the stainless steel counter in Glenna Clary's examining room. I didn't

at all like what Glenna was telling me.

"You'll want to keep the snake preserved as evidence, of course," the middle aged, pet.i.te, blond, chocolate brown eyed, vet stated. "I'll take care of that process for you."

"Better you than me."

Glenna laughed at him. Her dark eyes sparkled with amus.e.m.e.nt. "You always did hate snakes, didn't you?" she said.

"How long have you known me, Glenna?"

"Almost all my life, Phil. You can't fool me. I bet that you had to force yourself not to run out of the room when you saw that it was a snake in the case," she said in amus.e.m.e.nt.

"I'm just glad that Al didn't open it."

Glenna sighed. "How's she holding up?"

"Better than I had hoped. The stress is getting to her."

"Of course, it would be. I'm not sure how well I would have held up to everything that she's gone through lately," Glenna replied.

"Do you have anything else to tell me?"

"Nope. That's about it. The snake was certainly capable of producing a nasty bite. From the looks of it, it was probably alive when it went into the water," Glenna said with a sigh.

"G.o.d."

"Yeah," Glenna said. "I don't know what else to say. I wish that I could be of more help. But, I'm a vet, not a herpetologist, definitely not a forensic pathologist."

"Thanks anyway, Glenna."

"How badly was Geoff hurt?" Glenna asked. "The other night, I mean?"

"It could have been worse."

Glenna turned away.

"You aren't still carrying a torch for him, are you?"

"What? Me?" Glenna replied without conviction. She still didn't face me. "That would be profoundly stupid. Now, wouldn't it? I mean, he's supposed to be marrying Alicia on the thirtieth, isn't he? Even I am smart enough not to allow myself to stay hung up on a man who is committed elsewhere."

"You want to go to a movie tonight? The new Stephen King film is in town. It might be an interesting diversion. I'll even spring for pizza."

Glenna smiled softly as she turned around. "Now, there's an offer that would turn any girl's head." She chuckled. "Why couldn't I have fallen for you?"

"Maybe because you are brighter than normal?" I offered with a smile.

Glenna laughed tightly. "Yeah, right. Just now, I don't feel particularly bright."

I crossed the room to stand just in front of the pet.i.te veterinarian. I touched her face, lightly, with the back of my hand. "Glenna," I said.

She moved into my arms. I held her close, in the comforting embrace of an old and valued friend.

"Philip," she whispered just before she left my embrace. She stepped back a couple of paces. "Pizza and a movie sound good. But, I've got dress rehearsals for the Theatre Guild tonight. I've really got to be there."

"Of course you do. Can't have the Guild's production of The Mousetrap have dress rehearsal without its prized director."

Glenna smiled softly. "Sorry."

"Take a rain check?"

"Love to," the pet.i.te vet said. "But for something other than a Stephen King film." Then her eyes softened to hold an invitation, "Unless you were also offering to hold me all night to protect me from the nightmares which always come after I see a horror film?"

I smiled at her. "I never know when you are serious, Glenna."

"That's always been the problem. No one ever has," she said almost under her breath.

*Chapter 28*

'Alicia'

I awoke suddenly from my nap, at three-fifteen on the afternoon of May 14, still shaking from the nightmare. Do you call them nightmares when they occur during the day? Of late, the dreams were too surreal for me to mistake them for reality. Thankfully. Still, I woke shaking each time.

I saw, in my dream, Hernandez handcuffing Sarah to Joanie -- the girls standing back to back -- then chloroforming them both before taking them out into the night. Then the images had dissolved, becoming far more lewd.

The two dead Hernandez brothers, Luis and Juan, had specialized in furnishing girls for extremely kinky encounters as well as for blue and even snuff films. The images I had seen in my dreams were nothing more than the memory of what I had found out about the way that they had worked.