Marcus glanced at Scarlett and she shook her head.

'You don't need to know that, Delores,' she murmured. 'Trust me?'

Delores turned her head so that she met Scarlett's eyes, her nod nearly imperceptible. Then she looked back up at Marcus, startling the hell out of him with her next words. 'If this is about atonement, you don't have anything to atone for in all that mess nine months ago. You were as much a victim as I was.'

He blinked at her. What the fuck? 'Excuse me?'

'You are riddled with guilt, Marcus O'Bannion. It's coming off you in waves.'

Marcus glanced over at Scarlett again, a rebuke on the tip of his tongue until he saw that she was as surprised as he was.

Delores pushed on before either of them could say a word. 'Detective Bishop has shared nothing with me about you. I don't know anything other than that you lost your brother, Mikhail, and that you have a sister and a brother who also feel a helluva lot of survivor guilt.'

He opened his mouth to speak, but she gently patted his shoulder. 'You do realize that they make bulletproof vests lighter than the one you're wearing under this heavy shirt? I could feel it when I hugged you.'

He blinked again at her abrupt subject change. 'Yes, ma'am. But my lighter one got a little . . . used this morning.'

Her smile faded. 'I see. Well it seems you live your life very dangerously, Marcus. I was hoping you'd be a safer kind of guy so that Scarlett could relax when she wasn't on the clock.'

He didn't even have to glance at Scarlett to know her cheeks had flamed again. 'I'll take care of her,' he promised Delores quietly. 'And I'll think about what you said.'

'Thank you,' she replied, then turned to envelop Scarlett in an equally huge hug. 'He's a handsome devil,' she stage-whispered. 'If you decide you don't want him . . .'

'You . . .' Scarlett's mouth worked helplessly much as Marcus's had, but she finally gave up trying to find the words and laughed. 'I have no comebacks. I am zinger-less.'

'I know,' Delores said, a satisfied grin lighting up her face, making her look like a leprechaun who'd found the pot of gold. 'It's my special gift.' She started hustling them to the door. 'I have to start the noon feedings now or I won't be done till dinnertime. Next time you come, you need to bring Zat with you for a visit. Give him a kiss and this from me.' From the pocket of her smock she pulled a plastic bag printed with dog bones and filled with treats.

'Thank you. I will.' Scarlett glanced over her shoulder at Marcus. 'He has a dog too. She might also like some treats.'

'Oh, I knew I liked him for a reason. He's a dog person.' Delores fished another bag of treats from her pocket and gave them to Scarlett. 'You can kiss his dog for me too. But first you should kiss him. I felt really bad about interrupting you two out front earlier. Besides, Faith and Dani will never believe me without a photo. If you kiss him, I'll just snap a fast one. Very discreet.'

Marcus wisely swallowed his snicker, because Scarlett was giving Delores an irritated glare, her face having lost all traces of humor. 'Do you ever stop?' she snapped.

Delores blinked, the picture of wide-eyed innocence. 'No. I'm like a shark.' She bared her teeth, causing Scarlett to roll her eyes.

'Shark, my ass,' Scarlett muttered. 'More like a clownfish.'

Delores's eyes flickered with a hint of hurt. 'You're probably right at that.'

'Delores means,' Marcus said with gentle reproach, 'that if she stops, she dies.'

Delores met his eyes with a small, secret smile, and Scarlett instantly grew remorseful.

'I'm sorry, Delores. I seem to have a case of foot-in-mouth.'

Delores patted Scarlett's arm, then opened the front door. 'Don't worry. It's not fatal. Besides, I know I come on a bit strong. I keep forgetting that even though you hang out with Dani and Faith, you're not them.'

'They are a lot more fun than I am,' Scarlett agreed easily.

Too easily, Marcus thought, and that made him a little angry. He didn't like the way Scarlett seemed to discount herself.

'But,' Scarlett added, 'the thing about sharks dying if they stop swimming isn't entirely true. There are a few sharks that are capable of breathing even while they're still. Nurse sharks for one.' She lifted his brows. 'Bullheads are another. I'd say both are appropriate descriptors for you, Delores.'

Delores stared for a moment, then threw back her head and laughed. 'Well played, Scarlett. Well played. That was a comeback.'

Scarlett grinned, pleased. 'Now I'll say goodbye while my foot is still out of my mouth. Thank you, Delores. I appreciate your help.' She leaned forward. 'No one will know where this video came from, so don't worry about any reprisals from the person we're looking for.'

'I won't.' The huge dog at her side, Delores stood on her porch, waving as they turned around and headed back the way they'd come.

Cincinnati, Ohio

Tuesday 4 August, 12.45 P.M.

Ken paused at the foot of the basement stairs when his cell phone rang. He considered ignoring it, eager to get back to his session with the Anderses, but the caller ID said it was Decker.

'Who was in the house?' he asked.

'I don't know, sir. We have a problem. Someone must have called the cops, because there are at least a half-dozen cruisers in front of the house, along with a few unmarked cars and a CSU van. What do you want me to do?'

Ken's exhale was an infuriated hiss. 'Back off. It's all you can do now. I'll contact Sean and have him find out what's going on there. You go to the office and listen to those audio files. I'll get the Anderses to tell me what or who they're hiding.'

He slowly put away his cell phone, staring coldly at Chip Anders's overturned chair. The man was asleep. Snoring! That ended abruptly when Ken grabbed him, chair and all, and set him upright, slamming all four legs of the chair to the floor.

'Wh-wh-what?' Chip stammered, his eyes now open and glazed over.

'Don't hurt him!' Stephanie cried, then whimpered when Ken grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked. 'Stop. Please stop.'

'You shut up if you want to stay alive,' Ken warned, then let her go and slapped Chip across the face, hard enough to hurt but not enough to knock him over again. 'You fucking idiot. Your little Rambo act brought the cops to your house.'

Marlene's eyes flew open. Still the only one gagged, she shot daggers with her eyes.

'Cops?' Chip whispered. 'At my house?'

'Yeah. What're they going to find there? Drugs? Porn? Illegal firearms? That person who will tell that you were taken? Will they find any connection to me?'

Chip said nothing, just closed his eyes. New fury bubbled up into Ken's throat. 'Fine. If that's the way you want to play it . . .' He took a short, sharp blade from his cart and moved behind Marlene, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking her head back against him, exposing the curve of her throat. He removed the noose he'd placed around her neck and tossed it aside before positioning the tip of the blade beneath Marlene's ear. 'Open your eyes, Chip. Time to say bye-bye to your wife.'

Chip's eyes flew open in alarm just in time to see the blood spurting from his wife's throat. The first spray hit him in the face, the second on his shoulder. Chip screamed like a woman as the third pulse simply flowed down the front of Marlene's no-longer-expensive silk blouse.

'You freak!' Chip shouted. 'You motherfucker!' A horrified sob rattled his chest. 'You killed her! You killed her.' He quickly lost steam, whispering, 'Goddamn you.'

Ignoring him, Ken turned Marlene's chair so that Stephanie could see. Predictably, the girl's eyes were clenched shut. Her face was sheet white, her whole body trembling.

'Come on, Stephanie,' Ken said cajolingly. 'See Mama's big new grin.'

Stephanie turned her head away from her mother and vomited. A tiny bit hit the floor. Most of it hit her shirt, smelling vile. Ken had never been able to stand the smell of vomit.

He left Marlene there, the blood seeping slowly now. Gripping the edges of Stephanie's blouse front with his thankfully still gloved hands, he ripped it apart, sending buttons flying. He cut it from her shoulders, leaving her wearing only a tiny lacy bra that covered next to nothing. He dropped the blouse in the trashcan, tied the bag shut, then stripped his gloves off and laid them on top of the tied bag.

He went to the sink behind the bar and washed his hands, returning with a can of air freshener and a chair of his own. He sprayed the air, then turned the chair backwards and straddled it, folding his arms across the back of the chair calmly.

'See, here's the thing, Chip. You fucked with me. You have caused me a lot of trouble today. You have exposed me to the authorities.'

'No,' Chip gasped. 'I didn't. I swear I didn't.'

Ken casually brushed a piece of lint from the lapel of his suit. 'I really don't care who did it. The point remains is that it was done. As the head of your family, you should have kept better track of your wife and daughter.'

Stephanie was hyperventilating and shivering. She still hadn't opened her eyes.

'Now,' Ken continued, 'there is no way you're leaving here alive, Chip. No way. So put the thought out of your mind. You can, however, make your daughter's life a little easier.'

Chip's breaths were fast and shallow, his wife's blood dripping down his face. 'You'll let her go?'

Ken threw back his head and laughed. 'Good one, Chip.' Then he sobered. 'Not a fucking chance. But I won't kill her.'

'You'll sell her. Like one of your whores.'

'You should know. You bought enough of 'em.' Ken shrugged. 'I can make this hard or I can make it easy. Frankly, my business partner wants you to defy me. It means he'll get to test-drive your daughter before I put her on the block. If that's the case, I'll make sure you have a front-row seat. My partner is not a nice man.'

Chip swallowed hard. 'You piece of shit.'

Ken tsked. 'That is inflammatory, pejorative language, Chip. And quite trashy, too. Really, I expected something a little more elegant from you. But I suppose I can see your point of view. What's it gonna be? You talk to me, or I let my partner have your daughter?'

Chip's eyes burned with helpless hate. 'You sick son-'

'Consider your answer carefully,' Ken interrupted. 'I have three men that were injured bringing you in. I'm sure they'd like some kind of compensation too. So tell me what I want to know. How did the girl get out this morning?'

'I don't know,' Chip said through gritted teeth, his face now florid. 'Stephanie said she took her out.'

'Why?'

'I don't know!' Chip shouted. 'I don't know!'

'Stephanie?' Ken prompted. 'You can help yourself here. Why would you take your father's property out to play?'

'Because I needed her,' Stephanie said coldly, her face still turned away.

'Okay, now we're getting somewhere. Say more,' Ken directed pleasantly.

'She bought coke for me.'

Chip's eyes widened. 'You said you weren't using anymore.'

'I lied,' Stephanie spat. 'So punish me, Daddy. Bastard,' she added in a mutter. 'You had to bring her into our house. You had to sleep with her. This is your fault. You caused this.'

'I did it for you,' Chip tossed back furiously. 'I bought them for you and for your mother.'

'And look where it got Mother.' Stephanie's face scrunched up as she squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. 'Fuck you, Daddy. Just . . . fuck you.'

'So charming,' Ken said lightly. 'You're finally communicating with each other. Now try communicating with me. I take it, Stephanie, that last night's drug run wasn't an isolated event.'

'No,' Stephanie said shortly.

'Why take the risk?' he asked, genuinely curious.

'Because if I got caught again, I'd get kicked out of school and lose my allowance.'

Ken actually believed that. 'But why take the girl? If she was caught, she'd lead the police back to your house.'

'She never got caught. Not until last night.'

'Who killed her, Stephanie? Did you?'

'No.'

'Then who?'

'I don't know,' the girl said sullenly. 'Some piece of trash that wanted the cash I gave her to buy the coke, I guess. I don't know.'

'Oh I think you do, Stephanie.' Ken stood up, took off his suit coat and hung it on a nearby hook, casually inspecting it for bloodstains, finding a few. Luckily Alice was a wizard at getting blood out of fabric. He folded his shirtsleeves to the middle of his forearms, glancing over to find Stephanie watching him, her expression wildly desperate.

'What are you going to do?' she whispered.

'Well I need answers and you've been uncooperative. I know ways to make you very uncomfortable without leaving a single mark.'

'I've told you the truth.'

'No, dear. You have not.' He started to pull on a pair of latex gloves, but hesitated. 'You don't have a latex allergy, do you?'

'No,' she said numbly. 'What? Why?'

'Because I don't want you to break out in hives. It's really unattractive.' He finished pulling on the gloves, then stood behind her, feeling her shaking with fear. A good start.

'Don't kill me,' she whispered hoarsely. 'Please.'

'Get your filthy hands off her,' Chip growled.

Ken smiled at him. 'Sorry, Chip. But you're welcome to watch.' He stood behind her and covered her mouth with one hand, pinching her nose closed with the other. And then he waited until she started to thrash. He waited another twenty seconds, then released her.

Stephanie sucked in air in rasping gulps. 'Oh God, oh God, oh God,' she panted.