Quicksand

CHAPTER ONE

MY TWO O'CLOCK appointment, okay, my only appointment of the day, was late. Even though I was grateful that at least someone in this city might want to hire me, I was annoyed, and I showed it by rapidly tapping my pencil on my desk. Rat-tat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat-tat. Tat.

Deciding to do something more productive than scuff my desk, I tossed my pencil down and scanned my modest office, making sure everything was tidy. You should know that I'm not neat by nature. Not by a long shot. People find out if they see my apartment. Or my closet. Or my car. Or... Well, you get the idea. But the point is, I can fake it if I have the proper incentive, and today I did.

My stomach fluttered as I stood and made my way to a small closet located at the back corner of the room. The previous tenants, a now-defunct real estate company, had used it to hold a couple of rusty file cabinets. I know this because they left them here when their lease expired and now I use them to hold my own paperwork, along with a few emergency changes of clothes, gloves, hoods, leashes, and wax.

I was wearing an expensive linen suit instead of my normal jeans and Hawaiian print shirt. I gazed into the full length mirror that I'd tacked to the back of the closet door and checked my teeth for lipstick by running my tongue over them and making a weird, vampire-like face. When I saw only pearly white, I dragged my fingers through my hair, smoothing it. My sandy-blond hair is streaked from the sun and irrepressibly wavy. Usually I pull it up in a ponytail to keep it out of my face while I'm working. But when I do, I look like I could pass for nineteen, which sucks on about a million different levels. I've been meaning to get my hair cut up off my shoulders. But I guess my heart wasn't in it, because I kept canceling the appointment.

I'm thirty-two years old, and looking like a teenager when you're a grown woman is an enormous pain in the ass. Most of the men who ask me out are either years too young for me, or San Diego's finest geezers trolling for jailbait.

Years ago, during my first week as a private detective, a prospective client came into my office, took one look at me, and starting spinning in circles like a dog looking for a spot to pee. I could tell that he expected someone else to pop out of the woodwork and introduce herself as the real detective. When that didn't happen, he asked me where my daddy was. That pissed me off, but it also taught me a valuable lesson. Who wants to hire someone who looks like they still use Clearasil?

So today I'm wearing my hair up in a sedate clip, stud diamond earrings, my nicest business duds, and to further assist me in my quest to look like I've had boobs for more than six months, a pair of stylish glasses. I don't really need glasses, but I think they make me look more sophisticated. Sure, that's about as smart as a teenager thinking smoking a cigarette makes her look older. But nobody's perfect. And I quit smoking years ago.

I smiled into the mirror. I looked at least twenty-three and a little less like the beach rat that I am at heart. I know that might not sound like much of a victory, but over the years I've learned to take them wherever I can get them.

The knock at my office door made me jump, and with one last glance in the mirror, I shut the closet door and dashed to my desk as quickly as my high heels would allow. I don't know how Stephanie Zimbalist did it for all those years on Remington Steele. My butt would be kissing carpet if I tried to run right now.

"Come in," I called out evenly, positioning myself behind my desk and squaring my shoulders. I glanced down at my calendar and tried to look as though I was pondering something very important as I flipped through the pages.

The door opened and in walked the richest people I was likely to ever meet—Kale and Lokelani Poppenhouse. Russ Wilkens, a P.I. and friend I know from the beach … and a lot more … had referred them to me.

Russ and I are both avid surfers and see each other several times a week at Black's Beach at sunrise, the most peaceful time to ride the waves. In between those times, we occasionally hang out. He's as close as I have to a best friend and we toss business each other's way whenever we can. Russ wouldn't tell me why he'd referred the Poppenhouses to me, saying it would just be easier for them to explain what they needed themselves.

They'd only been in my office for five seconds, but I figured they must have liked what they saw so far, because Kale and Lokelani Poppenhouse were both staring at me and grinning like idiots. I gestured to the leather club chairs in front of my desk. "Won't you sit down?"

As they began to step around the seats, I remembered that I hadn't introduced myself yet. Stupid. "I'm Belinda Blaisdell," I said, beaming my most winning smile in their direction.

Mr. Poppenhouse held the bottom of his necktie flat against his bulging stomach as he leaned forward to shake my hand, his enormous paw completely engulfing mine. "Kale Poppenhouse." He glanced sideways and nodded once. "And this is my wife Lokelani." I tried not to stare, but the amused, slightly resigned smiles on both their faces told me I wasn't very successful.

He was wearing a beautiful, gray Italian suit and it contrasted sharply with his wife's bright floral muumuu and ivory-colored silk blazer. Their features were bigger than life, just like they were, but not ugly. Cartoonish would be a better word to describe them. I knew that they were Hawaiian from a life-style magazine article Russ had sent over that included headshots. Stereotypical thinking, I suppose, but I thought they'd be small people. How wrong I was. Even Lokelani was well over six feet tall and her husband dwarfed her. At five feet, five inches tall, I had the brief, and admittedly weird urge to jump up and start yelling ‘Da plane! Da plane, boss! Da plane!'"

The Poppenhouses' features were so similar they could have been brother and sister except for one thing. His bronze skin was several shades lighter than his wife's and hinted at a partial European heritage and the likely source of their rather unusual last name.

"The man at the other agency was right, Kale," Mrs. Poppenhouse enthused. Her smile was blinding. "Look at her freckles and that tan! She'll be perfect."

"The suit and the glasses are wrong though," he commented sourly, appraising me as though I was available for purchase. Which, in a way, I guess I was. "And the hair could be a little trendier."

Lokelani nodded and waved a large hand in the air in front of her. "All easily corrected."

I frowned. What did my freckles have to do with anything? Unconsciously, my hand went to my head. And sure as shit nobody was going to touch my hair. I cleared my throat softly and tried to move things along. "I spoke with Mr. Wilkens on the phone on Monday. He indicated that you might be in need of my services?" This is where I usually stop talking and let the client pick up the ball and run. But instead of pouring out their guts, Mr. and Mrs. Poppenhouse suddenly clammed up, looking very uncomfortable.

My curiosity was piqued. I could smell a good case like a dog could smell a juicy bone. I actually started to salivate and I subtly swallowed before gentling my voice. "I can't help you unless I know what you need. I can, however, assure you that I'm good at what I do and I'm very discreet. I can probably help if you'll give me the chance."

I wasn't kidding. Even though I'm not as busy as the detectives in the big agencies, I was slowly, very slowly, building a solid reputation as a quality private investigator. Most of my cases nowadays are referrals from previous clients or from other detectives who are either too busy to take on a certain case or unsuited for something the job would require.

What I said must have made Mr. Poppenhouse feel better, because he licked his thick lips, his deep voice filling the room as he said, "We are a very traditional family, Ms. Blaisdell."

I inclined my head as I listened.

"Our daughter Keilana is a student at Madonna Del Mar University in Santa Medina. And she ... she is ..." he hesitated and his wife quickly moved to fill the void.

"She is not traditional." Mrs. Poppenhouse sighed. "In fact, she's rather spirited." Then she stopped as though that explained everything. I grunted encouragingly, but found it a little hard to begrudge a college kid for wanting to kick up her heels a little.

"Keilana's had a rather difficult life in some respects," Mrs. Poppenhouse continued reluctantly. "She's always lived in a world of privilege, reveled in it, really. But that hasn't kept her from facing her share of discrimination. Hawaii can be a very enlightened environment." Her heavy brows furrowed. "But I'm afraid that even paradise isn't immune to racial prejudice. It hasn't been easy being our daughter." There was real worry in her voice and it caused my stomach to lurch. Being a parent must be hell sometimes.

"So you think she's in trouble?" I wondered aloud.

"We think so," Mr. Poppenhouse said firmly, his gaze sharpening as his eyes locked on mine. "She's not the same girl that left Oahu three years ago. Her grades have dropped. She never calls home. And she broke her engagement to one of Hawaii's most eligible bachelors last Christmas." His expression darkened. "That was stupid, not to mention bad for business. His family owns half the pineapple farms on Lanai."

Without my permission, my eyebrows lifted. His daughter had broken her engagement and his biggest concern is business? Not nice. Not nice at all.

Mrs. Poppenhouse's lips edged downward. "Keilana uses every bit of her substantial cash allowance, but doesn't seem to have anything to show for it. To make matters more frustrating, she won't use the credit cards we've given her so we have no record of what she buys. She never travels anymore and she didn't even come home this summer. She said she wanted to stay here and work instead."

"Could she be pregnant?" I had no doubt that Keilana was every bit the mountain of a woman her mother was. But let's be honest, college is nothing if not full of willing explorers.

Mr. Poppenhouse's eyes flashed dangerously and I dropped that line of questioning like a hot rock. I wanted to live.

"Alcohol or drugs?" I inquired carefully, crossing my fingers that Lokelani wouldn't decide to crush me like a bug for suggesting the mere possibility. No parent liked to think about it, but I've seen enough families destroyed by drugs to know it was never something I could ignore. Surprisingly, neither Mr. nor Mrs. Poppenhouse's expression changed with my question.

"We've had a spot ready for her at Betty Ford for the past year," Mr. Poppenhouse said. He steepled his thick fingers. "Should she need it, of course."

I could hear the impatience in his voice that he was trying so hard to hide. He and his wife almost looked as though they hoped that narcotics or booze was Keilana's problem. I supposed that such a revelation might not rock their world the way something else could. Keilana wouldn't be the first poor little rich girl whose experimentation had gotten her into more trouble than she could handle.

"Her behavior toward us has gone from respectful to indifferent in the course of a year. Her actions, what little I know of them, seem erratic. But technically we don't know that she's abusing drugs or alcohol," Mrs. Poppenhouse added, her gaze sliding sideways to her husband.

"Of course," I said soothingly. Yeah, right.

She wrung her hands. "There's more." She glanced down. "She might be ... well ..."

I leaned forward even further in my chair and felt my pulse jump. We were about to get to something juicy. God, I love my job.

"She might be involved in some sort of criminal activity. Gambling maybe. Or selling drugs if not using them," Mr. Poppenhouse ground out, finishing his wife's sentence with ease. Then he sneered. "Or worse, she might be involved with some mainlander scum who's after her money." He slammed his fist down on my desk and I did my best not to wet myself in surprise. When would I learn not to drink a 44-ounce Diet Mountain Dew minutes before a client meeting? "Why else would she go to the places she goes?"

The way he said "mainlander" made me bristle. I was one, after all, and I was really beginning to think that Daddy was an asshole. But he was a rich asshole and I didn't want to screw up this job. The recession has been hell on the private investigation industry. Still, I needed to know as many of the facts as I could before I would agree to take the case. Picking my own jobs was one of the biggest perks of being self-employed. I was never one for schlepping to some stuffy office where they had a dress code, performance evaluations, and fancy water coolers. Okay, I admit it. A water cooler would be totally cool. But that fact aside, my little business suits me just fine. It allows me to head to the beach when the surfing is primo and really enjoy life.

"What makes you think that she's involved with anything more sinister than outgrowing her parents?" I asked, forcing my mind back to business.

He shifted in his chair, his face a mixture of unease and embarrassment. "We hired an investigator to follow Keilana early this summer when she refused to come home on her school break. He told us that she was spending a lot of time with some unsavory types in and around some of San Diego's worst neighborhoods. Once she even went to a strip—"he glanced sideways and seemed to stumble over his words before he hit upon—"gentlemen's club." His wife patted his beefy arm and he placed his hand on hers. "But Keilana somehow found out that he was following her and he wasn't able to provide us with any other information after that. She hasn't spoken to us since."

My brow creased as the wheels in my head spun. They must have guessed what I was thinking.

Mr. Poppenhouse said, "The investigator we hired was Russ Wilkens."

"Hmm," I hummed noncommittally and tried not to show my surprise. Somehow I had trouble believing that some kid had spotted Russ spying on her. He was good at what he did and I couldn't help but ask, "And after that you still took his recommendation to come and speak with me?"

"It's not his fault," Mrs. Poppenhouse assured me. "Keilana is very, very smart. And she's not going to be easy to fool after our earlier mishap. That's why we waited several months before contacting you. We want to escalate things and you'll blend in with her surroundings in a way that Mr. Wilkens never could."

Ah ... They wanted me to tail Keilana. No problem. I had practically turned being a Peeping Tom into a new art form.

Mrs. Poppenhouse smiled a little. "We need a woman for the job."

They had really thought this through. And I couldn't help but think they were right. Even in this day and age, and despite the occasional Sue Grafton novel or Charlie's Angels flick, there aren't very many female private investigators. The kid would probably expect a private detective to wear cheap suits and smoke cigars. Come to think of it, that did describe Russ when he wasn't wearing a short wetsuit. What the hell was I thinking when I'd slept with him?

"So you'd like me to follow her?" I crossed my arms over my chest, already counting my easy money. The first thing I was going to buy was a water cooler. Then a new wetsuit. Then a bigger bed. Then ... "I can do that."

"We don't want you to merely follow her." Mr. Poppenhouse tugged a fat checkbook from his inside suit coat pocket. "We want you to move in with our daughter, find out what's going on with her and why, then report back to us."

My eyebrows crawled up my forehead, getting higher and higher as he spoke.

"If she's seeing someone," he growled, "break them up. I want her to graduate and I want to bring her back into the fold still speaking to me. I have no more patience for this nonsense."

"What?" I sputtered, truly insulted. Yeah, I could use the work. But what the Poppenhouses wanted was bullshit. I didn't do things like that. My hands balled into fists and I forced myself to lay them calmly on my desk. I knew, however, that I couldn't get the spark from my eyes. "I don't move in with the people I'm spying on. And I don't break people's relationships. I watch and take notes. I take pictures and do a damn nice report of what I find out. I ask questions and I dig and I ask more questions. But that's all I do." There. Crystal clear.

Spying was one thing, but tricking some girl and then breaking her heart was just disgusting. "California is full of unemployed actors, Mr. and Mrs. Poppenhouse. Maybe one of them will be able to help you." I was steaming and I wanted to kick Russ in the balls. I'd been so excited about what he said was a "big" job and then the client had to go and make things complicated. Dammit. There went my water cooler.

Mrs. Poppenhouse cocked her head to the side. "What we're asking isn't illegal, is it?"

I let out a long breath. "No, I guess it isn't." Illegal, no. Immoral, oh yeah. Okay, I could be a grown up. I could let them down gently. I'd get my satisfaction from cracking one of Russ's nuts instead. "I'm sorry to say that I don't do the type of work you require." I did my best to smile politely. "Anyway, I'd never pass for some college kid." Uh-oh. I knew that was a lie before I'd even finished saying it. And, apparently, so did the Poppenhouses. They didn't even dignify my statement with a reply.

Why were they still in my office? They looked so unmoved by what I'd just said, that I tried again. "Won't Keilana be suspicious if I just show up and move in with her? You said she was smart." That's it. Sucking up never hurts. They might have something decent for me to do in the future.

Mr. Poppenhouse snorted. "I'm paying you to make sure that she won't. Besides, I've never done business directly with a woman. She knows I don't believe in it and that should keep her from suspecting you."

My gaze sharpened and he held up a forestalling hand.

"I told you, Ms. Blaisdell, our family is very traditional. We do business in the traditional way and I'm not ashamed that I believe that men and women have very distinct roles. In this one instance, however, I've allowed Russ Wilkens and my wife to convince me that extraordinary measures are required. I'm not above admitting that women do have their uses."

My nostrils flared. There went Russ's other nut.

Either unaware or unconcerned that he'd been so insulting, Mr. Poppenhouse said, "Luckily, Keilana's roommate Pamela was awarded an unexpected scholarship to a college all the way on the east coast. She won't be coming back to university housing next week and Keilana will need a new roommate."

The way he said that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. I got the distinct impression that the timing of Clarice's out-of-state scholarship wasn't just good luck. This was a powerful, no, make that ruthless, man.

"We offered to set her up in an apartment, but she wanted to be like the other students," Mrs. Poppenhouse said, clearly embarrassed. "There's no accounting for taste, I suppose, and we've made sure to make her dorm room as comfortable as possible."

I didn't like the way she was so quick to explain away her daughter's pedestrian living accommodations. Some people can't afford college at all, much less the dorms or a fancy private school. Snobs.

Mr. Poppenhouse pulled out a pen and began scribbling on a check. "Keilana will graduate at the end of fall semester and I'm afraid that what little influence we still have over her will disappear then. I'm willing to pay you ten thousand a week plus expenses, including your tuition and room and board, etc., etc."

My mouth dropped open and stayed that way so long my tongue began to feel dry. If there had been a breeze in the room, my own jaw would have swung up and given me a black eye.

His intense stare went even more serious. "And I'll do it for how ever long it takes. But I expect results," he warned.

I swallowed hard. I didn't want this job. I didn't want to screw with some enormous kid's life. But ten-fucking-thousand a week was huge!

"Ms. Blaisdell, do we have a deal?" Tantalizingly, he held out the check and I detected the faint scent of wet ink.

I couldn't think. I couldn't breath. And I sure as hell couldn't see. I was blinded by the dancing dollar signs flashing behind my eyes. I was only vaguely aware of the Poppenhouses gazing at each other with something that approached concern.

"Ms. Blaisdell?"

Mrs. Poppenhouse was talking now and I sucked in a deep breath of air as I struggled to compose myself. Either the dollar signs were starting to get all sparkly or I was about to pass out from lack of oxygen. "Yes?" I managed to say.

She smiled. "You'll have no trouble passing for a student. Several of Keilana's friends had that dazed look you're wearing all through high school."

"I umm ..." I finally shook myself out of my stupor and nibbled on my lower lip. Could my dignity really be rented out for ten large a week? What if Keilana really was in the clutches of some mainlander scum who only wanted her for her money? Getting her to dump him would really be helping her, right? I visibly cringed at the mental gymnastics I was forcing myself through to justify this job.

"Let's take her car shopping too, Lokelani," Mr. Poppenhouse said. "She needs to look like her family can afford Madonna Del Mar University." He seemed to realize what he said and was quick to add, "No offense. I'm sure your car is very nice."

I held in a whimper. I drove an old Mustang convertible. And not a cool one either. A rusty, junky one. This was just too much. Weakly, I made one last bid for my self-respect. "I'm sorry, but I'll never get accepted into your daughter's college." There. I said it. I hadn't even made it through a year of junior college myself before my sucky grades and lack of money forced me to drop out and go to work full time.

"That's not a problem." Mrs. Poppenhouse pulled a piece of paper from her purse.

I took the paper and read it with stunned eyes. It was my university acceptance. The admissions office even admitted me under a quasi-alias, which just so happened to be my middle name. It seemed that the Poppenhouses had, indeed, thought of everything.

The Poppenhouses exchanged smug smiles. I was hooked and they knew it. "Now," Mrs. Poppenhouse said. "About your clothes and those glasses..."

"Maybe they'll add amber streaks to your hair. That would bring out the honey-colored undertones in your eyes."

I stopped walking and stared at Russ. "What?"

He sniffed and gave me a superior look. "I saw that on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy."

"Queer what for the what? Christ, Russ, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"It's a show where gay guys makeover a straight guy."

I sighed and started walking again. I was an avid late night television watcher, but I tried to restrict my viewing to shows that weren't utter crap. That left out nearly everything Russ watched. "Your wife has turned you gay."

"She has not!" he spluttered, his face turning a splotchy red.

Russ was the straightest man on the planet, but I still liked teasing him. "Uh-huh."

Russ and I are friends now, but once upon a time, we were lovers. I guess you could say we share a tempestuous history. Our affair was short and hot and we parted as friends when it became clear that neither of us had made a true love connection. At least that's what we told our mutual friends. And that's mostly true. But the other part of the truth is that Russ cheated on me with a waitress from the Clam Shack. During one of our dates.

Oddly enough, though, that wasn't the part about the date that freaked me out. What really got my head spinning was the realization that I lusted after our waitress every bit as much as Russ did. Maybe more. That night opened my eyes to a whole new world. But I felt as though Russ had kicked me in the teeth. For now, it's enough to know that when it comes to Russ and me, all's well that ends well. We worked things out later. I honestly think he looks more rugged with that chipped front tooth.

As we got closer to the salon, Russ scowled and had enough sense to at least hesitate for a few seconds before admitting, "My wife says I'm a renaissance man who is in touch with his feminine side."

"I think she was calling you a pussy, Russ."

"Ya think?" He made a face and scratched his square jaw. "I wondered that myself."

"Definitely. In fact, are you sure you can handle Smelly?" We stepped off the curb. "He's sort of a macho dog." I glanced down at Smelly, my fifteen-pound mutt that Russ was tugging along on a leash.

I found him underweight and smelling to high heaven, lying in a pile of washed up fish at the beach. When he tried to follow me home, I accidentally ran over him. I got out of my Mustang to assess the damage and looked into those sad, helpless eyes and couldn't help but take him in. Russ, not Smelly. Smelly I got from the pound for twenty-five bucks.

Russ had just gone through a nasty breakup, been kicked out of his girlfriend's apartment, and was coming off a three-day, pity party, bender. I decided to help. I'd been there myself ... well, not the smelly part. Or the sleeping in putrid fish part. Or ... okay, I hadn't exactly been there. But I'd broken his arm when I ran him over and didn't want to get sued.

"I can handle your mucho macho dog," Russ insisted, rolling his eyes. "Smelly and I understand each other."

Now that I believed. On occasion they both had gas that could fell a rhino, they were lovable in an annoying sort of way, and each would rather spend the day at the beach than anywhere else. That was more in common than many human best friends had.

"Tomorrow's the big day, right?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yep. You sure you can keep him out of trouble while I work this new bizarre case?" I was talking to Smelly and I could tell Russ knew that when he stuck his tongue out at me. When he abruptly stopped walking and starting licking his own crotch—Smelly, not Russ—I took that as his agreement.

I had finished the few odds and ends from my last case three days ago. Lord help me, just in time for the first day of school. I had already received a new wardrobe, which I hated and would give to my eighteen-year-old niece when this job was over, and I had promised not to wear my fake glasses. Today we were walking from my office to one of the most expensive hair salons in San Diego. This was the last step in my little makeover. Thank God I wasn't paying for this.

Russ reached down and petted Smelly's curly brown head as he spoke to me. "I can't believe we're walking when you own brand new wheels."

"That car is on lease in the Poppenhouses' name. I don't own it. Besides, the salon is only another two blocks."

He made a low clucking noise. "I noticed you bought a sports car that you could put your board in."

"That's not why I picked a convertible," I lied. Like I would get new wheels and not take my surf board into consideration?

A thought seemed to suddenly occur to Russ and he turned his head and frowned at me. "For someone who is going to make a quick score with this job, you don't seem too happy about it. What gives?"

I shrugged and stuck my hands in the pockets of my denim shorts. How could I explain to a guy like Russ that I felt like I'd sold myself out? A man who I once saw eat twenty-seven hotdogs in twelve minutes just to win an Igloo cooler that was worth all of about seven bucks. "I'm happy," I said weakly.

"Sure you are." He gave me a meaningful look. "You're thinking too much, that's what you're doing. I'd shave my head bald for ten thousand a week. Hell, I'd shave your head for that much."

"Gee, thanks."

"I told the Poppenhouses that I would dress in drag and move in with their daughter myself. But Mr. Poppenhouse looked like he was about to blow a gasket and so I offered up your name rather than be murdered in my office."

I socked Russ lightly on the bicep, thinking that he was more like a sibling to me than my own brother, who I rarely see. "And here I thought I got the referral because you thought I was such a good detective." I pantomimed stabbing myself. "You cut me, Russ. You cut me deep."

"Aw, Belinda." He had the grace to look at least a little chagrined. "You know I think you're good."

"Yeah, yeah." I cupped my hands over my eyes to shield them from the bright afternoon sun and glanced up at a green canvas awning that simply read "Gregory's." I swallowed hard, hoping that Mrs. Poppenhouse's instructions to the stylist weren't going to leave me looking like a blond version of that demented fucker Carrot Top. God, I hate my job. "Oh, boy."

Russ slapped me on the back, ignoring Smelly's protective growl. "Good luck."

I rocked back on the heels of my huarache sandals and gathered my nerve. "Time to go get beautiful, I guess."

Russ's gaze softened as I stepped inside the salon. As the door closed behind me, leaving my two friends to wait in the late summer breeze, I heard him mumble, "Too late."

CHAPTER TWO

AFTER DRIVING THROUGH Santa Medina, a sleepy tourist community consisting mostly of shops and small eateries that serviced the industrious day hikers who walked the Topa Topa Mountains, I pulled up outside St. Brigid's Residence Village. It was Saturday and school would start in just two days. But that wasn't much time to move in, get books and look like a real student, and most importantly, start making inroads with Keilana.

I glanced around. This is what they were calling campus housing? Where were the piles of discarded boxes? Where were the blaring radios and half-clad guys rushing by on skateboards?

I took off my sunglasses and slid them into the pocket of a pair of jeans that cost nearly as much as my first car. I sat there, waiting to be accosted by some slimy-looking guy offering me a MasterCard at twenty-one percent interest and a free Frisbee and T-shirt just for applying. But it never happened. I spun in a circle, feeling the breeze on the base of the back of my newly-exposed neck. "We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto."

I grunted my approval at the series of tiny, stucco, red-roofed cottages that comprised this part of university housing. They were linked together by a network of stone paths that all intersected at a large fountain. In the center of the fountain was a statue of a fat, bald guy dressed in long robes and holding a bible. Moses, maybe? He didn't look like Charleston Heston, though, so I figured it had to be someone else.

Short, but lush trees planted around each cottage added a sense of privacy to the property. "Nice." I craned my head, looking down one of the paths, but could only see as far as cottage 11. Keilana Poppenhouse lived in cottage number 12.

I exited my new Jaguar convertible, still taking in my surroundings with a note of awe. I'd seen places like this on television, but that hadn't prepared me for the pristine, collegiate atmosphere I was experiencing first hand. There was one thing out of place in this Norman Rockwall campus though. The place was practically crawling with nuns and priests. I'd heard once there was a shortage of nuns and priests. And looking around today, I knew why. They were all here.

I could only hope that they sensed that I was an unchaste, unrepentant sinner at heart and they'd stay far, far away from me during my time here. I was supposed to be a senior and by now I should have been brainwashed ... err ... I mean instructed on religion for years and years now. I was a little worried that my ecclesiastical ignorance was going to blow my cover so I resolved to keep as low a profile as possible.

Most of the students, who were huddled in small groups, their heads tilted together in conversation, were clean-cut and reeked of old money. And despite my new duds and expensive haircut, I couldn't have felt more out of place.

"Hey." A group of girls walked over to me, obviously checking out my new car.

"Hi," I said brightly, reminding myself to be sociable and do my best to try and fit in. It was breezy and I ran my fingers through my now-shaggy hair, smoothing it self-consciously.

A short blonde stepped forward from the group. "Do you need help with your bags?" She inclined her head toward my passenger seat and back seats, which were loaded down with two suitcases and a few medium-sized boxes that were packed ridiculously full.

She and her friends looked just like the girls in high school who wouldn't have spit on me if I were on fire. And a sense of wariness borne of experience washed over me. I glanced at how far the buildings were from the parking lot. Then I breathed a fake sigh of relief. "That would be great. Thanks." I extended my hand, half expecting to be snubbed. "I'm ... Bel—" Okay, try that again. "I'm Cadie."

"I'm Shauna." The girl cocked her head to the side, her eyes sweeping up and down my clothes. I cursed inwardly when I found myself straightening my posture in pure reflex. Despite the women we all eventually become, I guess a little part of us will always be sixteen. Bleck.

"You're new, right?" Shauna asked absently. She popped her gum and waved at another girl who was just pulling into the parking lot. The campus had only about four hundred students, so I figured that everyone pretty much knew everyone else.

I nodded and dutifully repeated part of the history I'd made up for myself. "A transfer student from UC Irvine, yeah. This is my first day here."

"Cool." The girls standing behind Shauna echoed her words. They had yet to speak to me directly.

I grappled for something to say. "Do you live here?"

She gave me a strange look. "Duh. But not in St. Bridgid's. I live in the St. Catherine's complex over there." She pointed over her shoulder and winked at me. "That one is co-ed. Here, let me help."

I had to keep from bursting out laughing when she began picking up my boxes and bags and distributing them to her pack of friends. When she was through, her own hands were left empty and she wiped her forehead as though she'd just run a marathon.

"Okay, which house are you in?" she asked quickly. Her generous spirit, it seemed, was on a short timer.

"I tugged a tattered piece of paper from my glove box and made a show of looking confused. I think I'm in 10, no 12. Yeah, 12. Maybe you know my roommate? Ke.. Ke.. Keilana Poppenhouse."

My words were met with a round of gasps, then pale, sour faces. I heard the word "bitch" and worse mumbled by several of the girls. Well, well, Keilana, it seems, wasn't Ms. Popularity.

"You can't be living in 12," a pudgy Asian girl blurted. "Pamela Anderson lives with Keilana. They've been roommates since freshman year. There is no way—"

Shauna glared at the suddenly verbose girl and slapped a hand over her mouth. "I thought we agreed that her name would never be spoken again?"

My eyes widened at Shauna's rigid tone.

"Sorry," Pudgy squeaked contritely, looking as though she might burst into tears. "I forgot."

"So long as you don't do it again," Shauna reminded, enunciating every word with deliberate slowness.

I lifted my eyebrows at the display of dominance. I hadn't seen one so blatant since my last trip to the zoo. "I umm ... I think I remember them telling me at the admissions office that one of the girls living in number 12 got an out-of-state- scholarship. Now that you mention it, the name Pamela Anderson does sound familiar." Okay, everything about Pamela Anderson was familiar. I'd accidentally seen the Pam/Tommy Lee porn video online. Six or sevens times. What? Like you weren't curious.

"Lucky Pam," Shauna ground out, her lips thin. Imperiously, she began marching down one of the paths and her friends were quick to follow.

I had to jog to catch up. "What do you mean, lucky Pam?" I fell in step alongside her as we passed the fountain. "Is there something about my roommate that I should know?"

Shauna smirked. "You'll see."

"Do you know Keilana?" I persisted; I was on the clock.

Shauna's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I know the whore all right! You should stay far away from her."

I blinked. "How can I do that? She's my roommate."

Shauna stopped dead in her tracks and gave me an incredulous look. "Be that way then." She pointed to a spot on the grass. "Here, girls. We don't need to waste anymore of my time. Let's go."

In less than five seconds my boxes and bags were unceremoniously dumped on the ground and the she-pack, including Shauna, was halfway back to the fountain. I frowned at their sudden departure. With them left my first chance at being able to pump someone who knew Keilana for information.

"See ya," I called out and couldn't stop myself from adding, "assholes" in a voice loud enough to get half of campus looking my way. A few nuns crossed themselves and I felt a mixture of juvenile pride and chagrin at my antics. I knew I was acting like a big baby, but in only a few moments those girls had managed to bring a million bad feelings to the surface. I sighed. Thank God I wasn't actually going through this all again. Growing up was bad enough the first time.

When my stuff had been carelessly dumped on the lawn, one of my cardboard boxes had burst open and the breeze was now tossing some of my clothes around. Nothing like having to chase your bra down the street in front of the God squad and a bunch of snotty kids.

Bra in hand, I tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear and made my way back to my boxes. I dropped to my knees and began gathering my things. At least nobody had stolen anything while I was chasing my undies across the lawn. That was one good thing about an expensive school. No one wanted to steal used panties.

Suddenly another set of hands appeared in front of my face and lifted up one of my intact boxes. "Want some help?" I heard from somewhere above me. The voice was velvety smooth and deep and I might have found it nice if I wasn't already in such a crappy mood.

"No thanks," I muttered, grabbing a tank top and stuffing down into the box. I didn't bother to look up. The last thing I needed was to square off against some snobby member of the Welcome Wagon.

A gentle laugh. "You must be a pretty big klutz to have made such a mess."

I continued my repacking, stuffing a pair of jeans into a box with a little more force than was necessary. "Thank you for noticing."

"You're new here."

No shit. "Really?"

She laughed again and adjusted the box in her hands so she could dangle a pair of my black panties before my eyes. I reached for them, but she pulled them away at the last second, just the way that Lucy always yanked the football away from Charlie Brown. I fought the urge to bare my teeth and growl, then I caught sight of exactly which panties they were and had to bite back a groan instead. Oh, crap. They were a pair that Russ had given me a couple of years ago as a joke. They were so raunchy that I'd refused to wear them. I didn't know I still had them. I'd just grabbed a few handfuls of underwear while I was packing.

"Slutty undies." She hummed something that sounded suspiciously like approval. "You're not a hooker by chance?"

"Do you need a hooker?"

"Is that a yes?"

I'd had enough. "Do I look like a fuckin' hooker, Rich-Bitch Betty co-ed?"

"I dunno." I could hear the smirk in her voice and it set my teeth on edge. "Maybe."

I finally successfully snatched the panties from her hand and glanced up to see what the next version of Shauna would look like. But the sun was setting directly behind her and I had to shield my eyes.

"You look like you have all the right parts for the job," she continued blithely.

This girl was a real piece of work. My words hadn't had any impact on her at all.

"You might not be a working girl," she chuckled, "but you certainly could be."

"My parents would be so proud. In fact, maybe I'll drop out of school today and call Heidi Fleiss. What's her number? I'm sure you have her number handy."

"Are you going to cottage 12?" She didn't sound happy about that prospect. Great, another fan of Keilana. And this one was changing subjects so quickly that my head was starting to spin.

I picked up a few pairs of socks, holding one in my teeth as I tried to get one side of the lid on the box closed again. "If you must know, the answer is yes. But I'll save you the trouble of telling me that my new roommate, Keilana Poppenwhatever, is a whore-bitch. Because I've already heard." I spat out my socks and stood up to tell whomever this annoying person was to get lost once and for all.

When I rose, I was greeted by a pair of icy blue eyes that actually sent a shiver down my spine. Uh-oh. I realized that I must have been wrong about her feelings for Keilana. Maybe the subject of my investigation actually had a friend. If that was true, then it was time to get serious.

The girl was burning holes through my body with her glare that could smelt steel. She was thin and a few inches taller than me with thick dark brown hair. She had skin so fair that I doubted she'd been outside for more than ten minutes the entire summer. Her face was heart-shaped and she had a stronger jaw that most women. She wasn't as conventionally beautiful as she was striking, and despite the haphazard way she had her hair twisted on top of her head, all I could think was how hot she was.

"You're staring," she said, clearly annoyed.

Oops. "About what I just said ..." I motioned to my things on the ground. "I'm afraid my first day here isn't going very well. So ... you're friend of Keilana's, right?" I stuck out my hand. "I'm Cadie Blaisdell." It's really true that the more lies you tell, the easier it gets.

The young woman's back straightened and she hefted the box she was holding high above her head. In disbelief, I watched her turn the box upside and dump my clothes and a handful of CDs all over me. "What the fuck?" I batted away a pair of shorts that was hanging from my shoulder. "Jesus Christ!"

"Wrong both times," she said, her voice low and angry. "My name is Keilana Poppenwhatever. Most folks call me Lana. You can just call me whore-bitch."

I didn't know quite what to say as Keilana stormed into what was supposed to be "our" cottage. There was no way that this person could be the subject of my investigation. None! She wasn't "spirited," as Mrs. Poppenhouse had said. She was clearly evil. And she wasn't huge or close to being Hawaiian. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

A woman walking by shot me an evil look for my potty mouth. "Hi, Sister," I said a touch sheepishly.

Did that nun just flip me the bird?

I refocused on why I was here and then hung my head. What the hell was wrong with me? I tried to look on the bright side, but so far there wasn't one. Well, except for the fact that at least I knew where the evil Keilana Poppenhouse was. In fact, I mused, not liking Keilana might make me feel less guilty about breaking up her and her boyfriend. Yeah. I could live with that big fat lie for at least as long as it took for me to play home-wrecker.

I repacked the rest of my things and hefted the boxes onto cottage 12's small front porch. As I was straightening from setting down the last box, I heard the lock to the front door slide into place. "I have a key," I gloated loudly. "You can't lock me out." Then I turned the doorknob and to my surprise, it wasn't locked. "Huh." Maybe Keilana wasn't as difficult she first appeared. God knows I'd been wrong about enough people in my life to know better than to judge someone too quickly. I began to regret the bad names I'd called her.

I stepped forward and pushed the door open ... only to smash my face against the solid wood. "God!" I screeched, and grabbed my now-bleeding nose. The burglar chain had been fastened. "Crap!"

"Still wrong. It's whore-bitch, remember?" Keilana yelled from somewhere in the cottage.

I hit the door with my fist. "Bitch!"

"You're ... getting ... closer," she said in a sing-song voice.

My God, what kind of twisted bitch was she? I was pretty sure I could bust the chain on the door if I wanted to. But I didn't want some do-gooder priest calling the cops on me. I had to save something for day two, didn't I?

My voice was deep and dangerous when I said, "Open the door, Keilana."

Silence.

"Open it."

More silence.

"Open the Goddamn door!" I roared, banging the wood with my fist until my hand ached. Finally, I stepped away from the door and swallowed hard.

My heart was racing. My face was flushed. My palms were sweating and my chest was rising and falling far faster than normal. Isn't it confusing that being furious and being turned-on-as-hell have the exact same symptoms?

"Have it your way, Keilana." I twisted my face and slurred her name the way Seinfeld did when saying "Newman". She was already shaping up to be my Newman.

I opened one of my suitcases and took out a washcloth to press to my nose. I held it to my face as I checked the front windows. Both were locked. I could pick them, of course, but it was broad daylight and I'd already attracted enough unwarranted attention. As it was, I'd be lucky not to be fired or expelled.

I walked behind the cottage and found two more windows. The second window was even unlocked, but after giving it a couple of moment's thought, I decided not to try to climb through it. It was a little smaller than the others and getting stuck with my ass hanging out was not on my agenda today.

Finally, on the fourth wall, I struck pay dirt. Tossing the bloodied washcloth over my shoulder, I growled like a cat on the prowl. I was getting inside. I tightened my hands around the sill-like vises. Despite what you see on TV, it's much harder to pull up all your body weight than it looks. But I was in relatively good shape and after a few huffs and puffs I was propped up on the ledge and staring inside. I glanced around awkwardly, but I couldn't see Keilana. I was sure, however, that the satanic brat was somewhere inside, laughing at me.

The windowsill was digging into my gut and I looked down. Figures there'd be no way to twist my legs inside. I'd have to go in headfirst. Slowly, I leaned forward to ease inside, and suddenly I was flying down the wall! I tried to break my fall with my arms and ended up doing a somersault that would make Mary Lou Retton weep with envy. Well, except for the part where I screamed like a sissy girl when my butt thumped hard against the tile floor.

"Holy—?" Disoriented, I sat there for a few seconds. What had just happened? I saw a piece of paper on the floor, partially hidden by my ass. I pulled it free and it read "Don't fall." I closed my eyes and whimpered. Was there anything more annoying than someone saying don't fall after you'd already fallen?

After a few seconds of wondering what on earth I'd gotten myself in to, I stood up on wobbly feet. My tale bone was throbbing, my nose was aching, and I wanted to kill Keilana. I even know a few people who, for a Corona and two fish tacos, would help me dispose of her worthless carcass. God, I love my job!

"Oh, Keilana?" I said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "He-e-e-e-re's Johnny!" She was too young to have seen The Shining but it made me happy just saying it.

Of course, there was no answer. I turned my head and saw that the front door was wide open, mocking me. Okay, I admit it, I underestimated my opponent in this twisted little game. That was a mistake I wouldn't make again.

If I'd only known then just what the coming months would bring ... I would have ... I would have ... . What would I have done? I guess I would still be me, which means I'd probably do most of it the same way, taking my lumps and all. But it would have been nice to have been just the teensiest bit prepared.

Since I was alone and had no clue where Keilana had gone, I took a moment to look around my new, if temporary, digs. I whistled softly, glad that I'd only bloodied my nose instead of knocking out front teeth.

The cottage was nice. Really nice. Better than my apartment, actually. Which made me all the more resentful. I was sure that the students here didn't appreciate just how lucky they were.

The furnishings were sparse, but first class all the way, and not surprisingly, the décor was California Mission. There was a tiny kitchen and living area just off a single bedroom that was separated from the rest of the house by a half wall. I walked over to the bedroom and saw that my bags and boxes were neatly stacked next to a naked mattress and box springs. "What did you do, Keilana?" On one of my bags sat a can of soda, beads of condensation attesting to the fact that it was icy cold.

How did she know that I was thirsty? Was she a witch? I didn't know what to think, but one thing was certain. Keilana clearly could not be trusted. And yet, this appeared to be a tiny bit of kindness from the person who had called me a klutz, embarrassed me by making me reach for my panties, locked me out of the house, and sent me careening ass over tea kettle down the wall. Scowling, I rubbed my butt again and tried not to breathe through my tender nose.

Then something on the top suitcase caught my eye and I was tugged forward by the same unseen force that had shaped most of my adult life—rampant curiosity. The kind that gave the cat a slow and painful death, and would, most likely, do the same to me one day.

On my suitcase was another note.

Klutz,

You can use your own bed sheets or check some out at the campus laundry for $3. I suggest the former. Too bad you're not a hooker. You'd be worth every penny. You have a spectacular ass.

Your new bestest buddy,

My eyes narrowed. She had signed the note Whore-bitch. I read it again just to make sure I wasn't losing my mind. I tried not to laugh. What was wrong with me? And how could I find her note funny, even though it was clearly meant to torture me? And most curious of all, why had she been looking at my ass? Thinking about asses made me rub mine. Again. It was still sore.

True, my butt was covered in expensive jeans, and she'd recognize that, which was the entire point. But she seemed to be checking out what was under the pants. Was she a lesbian? I thought about that for a bit as I examined my can of 7-UP. Frankly, I was thrilled with even the possibility it could be true. There can never, ever be too many good-looking women batting for my team. That said, this wasn't about me, and so I did my best to think about the case.

Keilana's parents were worried about some mainlander scum being after her money. But would they know if the mainlander scum was a woman? Absolutely not. Then again, if she really wanted to rebel, wouldn't the easiest way be to tell mommy and daddy that she liked pussy? After a bit more pondering, I figured it was too early to tell whether she was into chicks, or whether she'd just been yanking my chain.

I cracked open my 7-Up—not the diet, but the honest to goodness, teeth-rotting, sugar elixir—half expecting it to explode or for a big snake to pop out. When it didn't, I tentatively took a sip. Ahhh ... cold bubbles chased their way down my throat. Heaven.

So the subject of my investigation was a nutcase, sometimes-hospitable, maybe-lesbian? Lovely. I'd been in her presence for all of five minutes and she'd already given me the slip. Lovely again. I lifted my soda in salute to Ms. Poppenhouse, wherever she was. "Round one to Keilana," I conceded as my eyes took on a determined glint. "Too bad for you, this battle of the wits is just getting started."

CHAPTER THREE

THE COTTAGE WAS dark except for a small bedside lamp that provided more than enough light for me to write up my case notes. I was lying on my stomach on my bed and doing my damnedest to stay awake as I wrote. A couple of years ago I'd tried to use a Palm Pilot, and then a laptop, but there is something about writing things out longhand that jump-starts my thinking process. At some point during every case, I bow to modern technology and transfer things onto my office desktop for archival purposes and so I can email reports to clients. Until that point, however, I don't feel bad about doing things the old fashioned way and working them out on paper.

But so far this report was boring even me. I tucked my pen behind my ear and yawned, wishing that Keilana would hurry up and get home. It was a little past two a.m. and I was starting to get worried. Yeah, she's a big girl. But after working dozens of missing persons cases, I understood better than most that the world was full of scummy, devouring bastards who would do horrible things to you if given half the chance.

Have I mentioned that really late at night I tend to be a glass-half-empty sort of gal?

I propped my head up on my hands and decided it was best to keep myself occupied by rifling through her things. I know that seems slimy. Okay, it is slimy. But now wasn't the time for the faint of heart. Besides, I had to find out as much as I could about Keilana in as short a time as possible. That way I would reduce the amount of lies I had to tell her and the amount of time I had to spend in her presence. Not that it wouldn't be fun to linger on the Poppenhouses' more-than-generous payroll, but because there was always a chance my cover would be blown before the job was finished, I was racing the clock.

Speaking of clocks, underneath one on the wall were three short bookshelves lined with dozens of paperback adventure, true-life crime, and reality stories. I began thumbing through them, their well-worn covers testifying to the fact that Keilana was an avid reader with eclectic tastes. I pulled one of the few hardcover books off her shelf. Children of Adoption: A Lifetime of Adapting. Well, that answered one of my questions. Keilana was about as Hawaiian as I was.

Then I ransacked her dresser. A chocolate bar in the top drawer. Hershey's Kisses in with her socks. Tootsie Rolls mixed with her undies. M&Ms in the third drawer by her bras. What a sicko! I popped a Hershey's Kiss into my mouth and acknowledged wryly that this could be love.

Still chewing, I checked the short file cabinet next to her desk. She was actually pretty organized for a college student and everything was laid out neatly in manila folders. Her parents were right about her grades, which since the end of last year, have resembled something that should be flushed down the toilet. Another file contained three letters of warning from her advisor and one from the Dean. I was actually a little surprised that the school hadn't given her the boot. Then I remembered who her parents were. She'd probably have to kill someone to actually get expelled. But that didn't mean they'd just hand her a degree.

I shoved that file back and selected another.

Ooo ... I chuckled. Keilana had been a very bad girl. She had a half dozen parking tickets receipts, all showing her illegal parking in and right around one neighborhood. Unfortunately, the area covered several blocks. Even more unfortunate was the fact that I had a passing familiarity of that part of town. I couldn't believe Keilana would drive through it at all. Much less park her fancy BMW there.

I quickly jotted down the addresses from the tickets in my journal, mindful that my roomie could be home any minute. As I wrote, I couldn't help but think about what I hadn't found on my little fishing expedition. No address book. No diary or love letters. No photographs. She didn't seem to own a single personal thing beyond her clothing. And despite what her parents had hinted at, I hadn't found any drugs, booze, or even cigarettes. By all accounts, Keilana was living a helluva lot cleaner life than I had in college.

I also couldn't find whatever it was she used for birth control. Then I remembered she had her personality for that.

I glanced over at the clock. It read 3:37 AM. "Where the hell are you, Keilana? You'd better not be out doing something I'd want to know about!"

Murmuring to myself and yawning, I locked my own journal in the desk provided by the university and picked my blue jeans up off the floor so I could stuff the key in the front pocket. You couldn't be too careful with people.

The sound of a key in the front door lock sent me scurrying back to bed, where I laid down, looked up at the ceiling, and did my best to appear nonchalant. Thank God she was home. Staying awake had been torture.

As she walked past me I got a better look at her than I had earlier that afternoon. She had long limbs and the graceful stride that reminded me of a slender jungle cat. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and instead of being the devastating blue I remembered, they appeared almost purple in the muted light. Her gaze flickered my way and I felt my belly tighten in response.

Uh-oh. I could not be attracted to her. There were a million reasons why having the hots for Keilana would be a bad idea, and I mentally started listing each and every one of them when she let her purse slide to the floor and stripped out of her blouse and bra in one swift motion. Sweet mother of God! Her skin was milky white and invitingly smooth. And her breasts swayed gently as she moved.

Unconsciously, I licked my lips. I knew that I should look away and give her a modicum of privacy by turning my head, but honestly I was too stunned to do more than gape and collect drool.

Surely the weight of my stare was palpable, but if Keilana noticed it, she didn't say. I groaned inwardly when she presented me with her back. Show's over, pervert, I thought a little resentfully. Even though I hated it to end, I was grateful for the reprieve as she tugged a T-shirt from her dresser and slipped it on.

Unable to ogle her, my other senses kicked into high gear and my nose twitched as I detected the scent of cigarette smoke. Interesting. Who were you with, Keilana? I didn't want to appear overly nosy by asking outright, so I schooled myself in patience.

"Hey," I said softly. I had been looking forward to being snotty to her when she got back, but it was so late that most of my anger over what had happened earlier had already burned away.

Her eyes slowly rolled sideways. "Hi," she murmured. Then she really focused on me and a tiny furrow appeared between her brows. Was she missing her old roommate? For a second I thought she didn't recognize me, but then I glimpsed what I hoped was a spark of recognition.

When she said nothing, I sighed.

"You don't remember my name, do you?" I gave her a lopsided grin that I hope covered my bruised ego. "Am I that forgettable?"

"Hardly," she said seriously and collapsed onto her bed. "And I do too remember your name." Her pillow muffled her voice. "It's whore-bitch." A pause. "No wait. That's me."

I rolled my eyes. "So nice to see you're not the type to hold a grudge. I said I was sorry, didn't I?"

"No."

"Oh." Oops. "Well, I thought it for a fleeting second or two. That should count for something, right?"

Keilana fought it, but in the end, the corners of her mouth turned upward. "You're Katy." She kicked off her sneakers, wiggled out of her jeans, and snuggled under her bed sheets with an enormous yawn.

I frowned. "It's Cadie."

She rolled over to face me and looked at me for a good minute before saying a word. My heart pounded wildly the entire time. Was she sizing me up? Or worse, was she on to me?

Even through my impending panic, I took the opportunity to give her a less lascivious examination. She looked mortally tired and now that she wasn't moving, I could see that her eyes were bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles. Still, she didn't have that glazed-over look that came with being stoned, or the slurred speech and sloppy movements of someone who was drunk.

"Hi Cadie," she finally said, gently. And to my amazement, for just a split second, every trace of smugness was gone from her voice, her expression painfully open. She looked so young and sweet that I felt my heart lurch. "That's such a pretty name."

I blinked and to my amazement felt my face flush with pleasure. Jesus Christ, what was wrong with me? "It ... um ... I mean, thank—"

"Good night."

Then she rolled over and instantly fell asleep, her light snores filling the room so quickly that for a moment I thought she was pulling my leg. It's part of my job to look after this intriguing, annoying young woman. With the kind of money I was making, that's the least I could do, right? So I padded over to her bedside and carefully lifted a thin blanket over her sleeping body, tucking the edges around her shoulders. She didn't even stir. Whatever she'd been doing tonight had exhausted her.

I only wished I knew what it was.

The next morning the ringing of my cell phone awakened me. "‘Lo," I rasped, pressing it to my ear, and slowly licking dry lips. "I mean, hello."

"Hey, Belinda, the surf is cookin'! Get your butt down here!"

"Russ?" I scrubbed my face and heard Keilana let out few choice words over being awoken at just past dawn. "Why the hell are you calling me so early?"

"Huh?"

Oh, right. We always called each other when it looked like the waves were going to be excellent. I though of the hot sun drenching my skin and the cool water lashing against me, and suddenly longed for the rightness and solitude of a perfect wave. I can't explain to a hodad the nearly religious experience of flying on water. You'll just have to take my word for the fact that there are few things better in life.

"Belinda?"

Drats. I promised myself I would be quick about this case and not drag out my duplicity. I couldn't go play. I needed to stay and work. "I can't, Russ."

"Why not?"

"Russ," I warned, my gaze slipping sideways. Keilana had put her pillow over her head to block out our conversation.

"Oh, shit," he said, whispering as though Keilana could somehow hear his voice. "Are you working?"

"Uh-huh."

"Right now?"

"Hopefully."

"But it's Sunday," he complained. "The Poppenhouses don't expect you to break this case in two days, Belinda. Jesus! With what you're being paid, you'd think you'd slow down and take your time."

A little insulted, I said, "You know I'm not like that." I never cheated my clients. Never.

He groaned and I just knew he was rolling his eyes at me. "I wasn't suggesting that you pad your billing. Just take the time you need to do this right. You won't learn everything you need to know about Keilana in a weekend. Besides, school doesn't even start until tomorrow. C'mon," he coaxed, knowing I was a wave-slut. "You know you want to."

I laughed softly. "You're incorrigible."

"I learned it from you." There was a long pause. "Hey, Belinda, I know you're feeling guilty about this job. And when you're feeling guilty about something you tend to push things. Go easy, all right?"

I blew out a long breath.

"You know I'm right," he persisted.

He was right. I hated it when that happened. "Go away, Russ."

He chuckled. "Smelly and I are going away. Away to the beach, as a matter of fact. I'll call you later in the week and check on you. See if you need anything, that sort of thing, okay? We can meet someplace off campus and I'll bring your runt dog for a visit."

Russ, I acknowledged not for the first time, despite our checkered past, had turned into a friend that I could count on. I lowered my voice, "I loooooooove you, Russ."

Silence.

I had to work hard not to spoil the effect and burst out laughing.

"God, you're evil," he finally spluttered.

I smiled broadly. "I learned it from you. Give Smelly a hug for me, okay?"

"Will do." Then he cleared his throat ominously. "Belinda? There's something important I have to tell you."

Oh, God, he wasn't going to get all sensitive on me, was he? "Yeah?" I croaked, horrified at what my own demonic streak might have started.

"Don't get caught staring at a bunch of eighteen-year-old girls' asses. You'll get a reputation and then nobody will want to take you to the homecoming dance." He started laughing hysterically at his own joke and with a vicious finger, I shut off my phone without saying goodbye. I thought of how I'd stared at Keilana's half-naked body the night before and a wave of guilt crashed over me. She wasn't eighteen years old, but twenty-one wasn't a helluva lot better.

"Jerk," I mumbled, and tossed the phone to the foot of my bed.

Keilana tugged the pillow off her face and gave me a concerned look that fully captured my attention. "Boyfriend troubles?"

She had a serious case of bed-head and her face was creased with a crisscross pattern from her bedspread. I bit back a grin. It is my not-so-humble opinion that good-looking women are at their most appealing first thing in the morning when they're adorably mussed and truly natural. Seeing Keilana painted in early morning sunshine did nothing to dissuade me of that notion.

"Cadie, if you're in any trouble or if ... well, if you need help or something." Shyly, tried to express herself, charming me in the process. "I can ... I can help."

I was relieved that for the first time since we'd met, I'd be able to tell her the truth. "He's a former boyfriend, but there's no trouble. Honest." Then I had an idea. What would work better than to get to know my subject on my home turf? We couldn't go to my favorite beach, but we could pick up Russ and go someplace else. "He wants me to come to the beach today. Wanna come?" Of course, I'd have to call Russ and have him shave his head so there'd be no chance of Keilana recognizing him. But that was a small price to pay for surfing!

I could tell she was surprised that I had asked. Her eyes narrowed just a little as she tried to gauge my sincerity. Lord, Keilana is even more suspicious than I am. My general mistrust of people was a byproduct of my work. There are only so many cheating husbands and wives you can tail before you become jaded. I wondered briefly what had caused her skepticism.

She sat up and cocked her head to the side, her hair falling down around her shoulders. "With you and your ex?" She made a face. "No way." Suddenly, she seemed to realize she was being a little rude. "But ... umm ... thanks for asking."

"Come on," I coaxed, flipping over onto my belly, crawling to the foot of my bed, and propping my head on my fists. Our beds were only about six feet apart and this put me a little closer to her. "It's going to be a beautiful day and Russ really is an okay guy."

She grimaced again. "No ... I don't ..." She stopped and took a deep breath. "I don't like the beach."

"But your family is Hawaiian!" Everyone knew the Poppenhouses were Hawaiian. Poppenhouse pineapple and coconut cookies were one of the most popular cookies in the country and the back of the package featured a map of the islands. "How can someone from Hawaii not like the beach? That's impossible!"

Her gaze cooled instantly and I realized my error. Mentioning her family was obviously a no-no.

"You don't know anything about me," she said briskly.

"Okay." I held up my hands, privately bemoaning the wariness that had rushed back into her voice. "You're right. I don't know you."

She looked like she wanted to say more, but didn't.

"But I'd like to know you. And what better place for that to happen than the beach." I gave her my most innocent smile.

She snorted gently, torn somewhere between amusement and annoyance at my persistence. "I have things to do, Cadie."

This was going good. We were talking, not arguing, and she was tentatively smiling. I suspected she was tempted to take the day off and play, but I wasn't sure how far I could push her. I also had to be very careful or I was going to start flirting. And that was more dangerous than I was willing to accept.

"I have to buy my books," she went on, snuggling back into her pillow and looking like she wanted to do anything but that. She groaned a little. "And get ready for classes. Just, I dunno, stuff ..."

"Of course you do," I said reasonably. "And so do I. But we can do those things and still go to the beach." C'mon, Keilana, make my life easier. "We can't get to know each other if we don't spend any time together, right? If we're going to be roommates we might as well hang out a little. I want to be your friend."

And in that split second, our conversation came to screeching halt. Every bit of progress I'd just made vanished like smoke in the wind. Her body stiffened and I knew I'd crossed some imaginary line in the sand.

"What makes you think I want to be yours?"

It was like being slapped in the face.

All of a sudden, I felt stupid for worrying about her the night before. This girl had claws just waiting to come out and play. "Jesus, I wasn't asking you to sleep with me, just go the Goddamned beach!" I sat up and scooted up the bed, putting a little more distance between us as I crossed my arms over my pajama-clad chest.

She looked away. "You'd have had better luck asking for the sex. That I can handle with no problem."

One more question answered.

"Is it just that you don't like me? Or do you have another reason for acting like such an asshole?"

Her eyes snapped up to meet mine and I saw a mosaic of anger, hurt, and resignation swirling there. My own eyes widened a little in response.

"Isn't that what you expect from me? I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

"I don't expect anything from you. I don't even know you!" But that was a lie. Knowing who her parents were did make me expect she'd be spoiled rotten. And after talking to Shauna's little group of she-devils, I expected her to be just as catty as they were. That might not have been fair, but life rarely was. The "asshole" part of the equation, however, Keilana was earning all by her lonesome.

I could see that I'd pushed her too far, but I'm only human and her outright rejection of me stung more than I cared to admit.

She climbed out of bed and with short, jerky movements dug through her dresser for a fresh set of clothes. She might have been pissed, but then so was I. Only I was angrier at myself than at Keilana. Russ had been right. I'd pushed things too far. But it was so hard to be patient. I'd been thinking about her for days, had met her family, had read everything I could find about her. I'd even tracked down some articles she'd written for her high school newspaper. Too bad I hadn't been able to hunt down a photograph. Then yesterday's meeting would have been very different. She didn't feel like a stranger to me, even though she really was.

To Keilana, however, I was nothing more than that, and if she didn't want to spend the afternoon with me, well, I couldn't really blame her, could I?

I didn't try to stop her and make nice when she marched toward the bathroom. We both needed a few minutes to cool off. But something in the wastepaper basket caught her eye and she stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes fluttered closed and her face turned red and I remembered what I'd thrown away.

"I smashed my face against the door," I said by way of an explanation.

She was staring at the bloodied washcloth from the day before. "I'm sorry," she said in a watery voice.

I thought she might start crying and my heart picked up a little. Please don't cry!

"I didn't want ... I mean, I didn't think—" She ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

So she didn't want to be my friend? Fine. But at least a part of her did want to know me. I could just tell. I'd seen a glimmer of something in her smile earlier, something I didn't understand but that was drawing me forward, and making me want to learn all her secrets. And, one by one, I would.

God, I love my job.

CHAPTER FOUR

I WAS FIVE MINUTES early to my first class, something I'd never managed in my own brief college career. I shuffled into class, feeling the weight of higher learning squarely on my back and thinking I would stick out like a sore thumb. I was wrong. No one looked twice at me except for some preppy kid with a short blond crew cut. He was wearing chinos, a blue blazer, and a white dress shirt with a bow tie. I suppose he thought he was making a statement. Of course, the statement was "I won't get laid till I turn forty or make my first million, whichever comes first," but I still managed to smile politely at him when he flopped down into the chair next to mine.

Madonna Del Mar didn't really have normal classrooms. The room looked more like the den in a rich guy's house, and was filled with leather love seats, chairs, and a few sofas arranged in a semi-circle. I pulled out a notebook and pen and doodled as the students filed in. Oh, goody, lookie who's here. Shauna.

She sneered at me, and I blew her a kiss and winked. She audibly gasped and I snickered, gallantly waving my arm, to offer her the empty seat to my right.

She didn't take it, of course. Instead, she threw her nose in the air and headed for the opposite side of the circle. Adios, bitch.

A few more minutes passed and every seat in the class filled but one. Keilana's. Exactly at eleven a.m. the instructor hurried into the room and plopped down on the tall stool that sat in the middle of the circle. Even though I had no intention of doing anything more than fill a chair during my time in class, my stomach fluttered nervously at her mere presence.

The instructor, Dr. Edith Gallop, began taking attendance. She was at least a hundred and ten years old, but still had garishly-dyed black hair. I shivered. When she said my name I half raised my hand and did my best to smile. She acknowledged me with a short nod and I shivered again, longing for the back row of a huge lecture bowl classroom.

When Dr. Gallop got to the last name on her list, she glanced around, then sighed. Loudly.

Just then, Keilana burst through the door, a book and a few pieces of paper clutched awkwardly in her hand.

"I see Miss Poppenhouse has decided to grace us with her presence. Too bad it appears that she's continuing last year's path to Hell in a hand basket," Dr. Gallop said tartly as she lifted her jaw and gave Keilana a supremely disapproving look.

My eyebrows jumped. Hell seemed a slightly excessive punishment for being thirty seconds late to philosophy class.

"Sorry I'm late," Keilana murmured, taking the only available chair, which just so happened to be right next to me. Heh.

"Tardiness will not be tolerated."

Keilana's lips thinned but she remained polite. "Yes, Dr. Gallop."

"Good. It'll be a fresh start then." She nodded to herself. "I think it's best that we begin."

I looked at my watch. From my own brief college experience I remembered that the first class of the semester usually lasted all of about fifteen minutes. The professor would drone through a few moments of personal and then class information, pass out a syllabus, and then we'd be free until the next class. Apparently, however, that's not the way things worked at Madonna Del Mar.

Dr. Gallop turned a little to face me directly. "We have a new senior transfer student joining us this year." Now that she wasn't dealing with Keilana, her mood visibly brightened. "Welcome, Miss Blaisdell."

I smiled weakly. So much for quietly blending in.

"Let's start by discussing our assignment, the first forty-five pages of Foucault's Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason. Ms. Blaisdell, whenever you're ready."

My mouth shaped a tiny "O." There was an assignment the first day? The instructor sensed my confusion and pointed to the book in my lap. Then she did something I would have never in a million years suspected. She began speaking to me in tongues! Well, okay, it wasn't exactly tongues, but it was French and that was the same damn thing as far as I was concerned.

Eyes wide, I glanced around at the other students but everyone acted as though things were completely normal.

Was I in the wrong class? Totally bewildered, I stared at her blankly until she said, "Miss Blaisdell?" Ah, some words I understood.

"Yeah?" Some of the other students began to snicker. Keilana's expression, however, was fixed in stone.

"Ms. Blaisdell?" Dr. Gallop was losing patience. Her cheeks were just starting to turn pink. "I said, please stand up when I address you." She did her best to give me an encouraging smile. "It's tradition here Madonna Del Mar to stand when being addressed."

I have a tradition too. It's puking when I'm nervous. I felt my stomach roil, but I forced myself to slowly stand. I am an adult, dammit!

"Let's focus first on the text from page twenty-seven, shall we?"

I hadn't as much as opened my book before class. I'd been busy trailing Keilana around campus the day before and hadn't even bought my books until just before the bookstore closed last night. Nobody has an assignment due the first day. Nobody! When I opened the book and peered at the text, my heart sank. The text was gibberish, more French. At least I thought it was French. Dr. Gallop was speaking so quickly the words sounded like one long string of babbling.

Now, I'm not a total novice at French. I took two years of it in high school and all I can say is a cheesy pickup line that asks my victim to go to bed with me. But somehow I was reluctant to use that phrase with our ancient professor.

Dr. Gallop was now pointedly staring at me and the class was growing restless. Worst of all, Shauna was snickering at me. Keilana wouldn't even look at me. The situation was eerily like a recurring nightmare I'd had all my life, where, to my horror, I had to take a final exam for a class I never actually attended. I glanced around to make sure that none of the other women were topless. Darn. That was always my favorite part of the dream.

I prayed my face wasn't as red as it felt and I opened my mouth to tell the professor I hadn't done the assignment when Keilana jumped to her feet and spoke calmly but passionately. In French, no less. I have no idea what she said but the students began shifting uncomfortably in their seats. My mouth dropped open when she changed back to English for the words "pole smoker."

What the hell?

Dr. Gallop gasped. "That issue will not be addressed this class. Ever! And moreover, it's not relevant!" she snapped, in—thank God—English.

"Isn't it?" Keilana challenged. "Foucault was a homosexual and it's ridiculous to think that that didn't impact his opinions on the human psyche. Maybe you should have the guts to talk about that today." She smiled innocently to take the sting out of her words, a look that I was coming to associate with downright wickedness. "At least that's interesting," she continued.

Then the conversation exploded back into French with several other students rising to their feet and joining in an impassioned discussion. Suddenly, a squarely built guy with glasses told the skinny boy next to him, "I always did wonder about you!"

And there was pandemonium. The professor forgot that I even existed.

I watched Keilana in awe, wondering if that's what she'd intended all along.

After a few minutes of shouting, Dr. Gallop roared, "Class dismissed!" Flustered, she stormed from the room with the students hot on her heels. Keilana and I were the last two to leave the classroom.

Well, at least class hadn't been boring. "Why did you do that?" I asked, truly curious.

Her eyes twinkled a bit. "Because I wanted to."

"And that's the only reason?" I held the door open for her but she didn't walk through. "You sort of saved my butt though I'm sure it was unintentional."

Her eyebrows knitted as she looked me. "Before ... you said you wanted to be my friend, remember?

Huh? "Yesterday, you mean? Of course, I remember."

She licked her lips and I could see the tiny bit of nervousness she was trying to conceal. "Did you mean it?"

I answered honestly. "Sure."

Keilana looked right into my eyes and I felt her gaze to the bottom of my soul. She was standing so close that I could smell her skin and the faint trace of perfumed soap. "I'm sorry about your nose. I didn't mean for you to get hurt."

"My nose?" God, she smelled nice. I had no idea what she was talking about it.

"It's a little bruised." She winced as she reached out cautiously and traced my nose with just the tip of her finger. "I didn't want you to get hurt. I want to back up things between us."

"Back things up?" I was cheering that she wanted to put our bad start behind us. But did she really think she could just rewind life as though it was a big DVD?

"I was wondering if you'd like to go to a movie or something tonight?" She quickly ran a hand through her hair, then stuck it into her back pocket as she awaited my answer. "The girls here are ... well, you've met them. You can't trust most of them." She must have seen the slight widening of my eyes because next she asked, "Can I trust you, Cadie?"

I froze at her words, unable to breathe as the little voice in my head screamed "No! I'm a spy!" But with my mouth the best that I could do muster was, "I ... uh ... I mean—" Not more than a second or two could have passed, but that's all the time it took.

"I see," she said briskly, and she sped past me and through the door, disappointment coloring her words. "Never mind. I'm sure you'll be studying French tonight."

I closed my eyes. Shit. "Keilana!" I hurried after her and we emerged from the building into the hot sun. "You didn't give me a chance to answer." We trotted down the stairs. Damn but she had long legs. "You just surprised me is all." I grabbed her arm, stopping her at the bottom step. "Hey, I'd love to go to the movies or something. Have I done anything that would make you distrust me?"

She sucked in a deep breath. "Not until just now."

If she could always read people this well I was going to be in big trouble. I sighed. Who was I kidding? I was going to be in big trouble anyway.

It was nearly three weeks before we ended up making it to the movies and, oddly, I had settled into a fairly stable routine of being a retard in class, doing only as much homework as it took to get by, and being Keilana's invisible shadow the rest of the time. Much to my frustration, she'd hung around campus or Santa Medina every night for the past two weeks, getting to bed by eleven each night.

Was she on to me? I was truly beginning to wonder. Nobody was that much of a homebody. And yet, if she knew who I was, why not confront me about it? True, she probably got a giggle out of my having to stand up in all our classes and look like I had shit for brains. But other than that, I couldn't see what was in it for her.

While we weren't exactly pals, we'd forged a sort of tenuous ... not exactly friendship, but a part-accepting, part-antagonistic relationship. We were starting to talk a little more and that strained feeling that had been there the first few days had faded.

A few guys on campus had come sniffing around her, but Keilana didn't seem to care or notice. I hadn't seen her with a girlfriend either. She truly seemed to enjoy her own company and I couldn't really complain about that. What I could complain about was that so far, I hadn't been able to figure out what in her life was pulling her away from her family.

That was about to change.

A couple of doors down from the movie theater was a coffee shop and we stepped inside to get a drink. We were greeted by a blast of some of the best smelling stuff on the planet—strong coffee, sizzling bacon, and grease.

"I can't believe you're hungry," I said to Keilana, truly amazed, even though I wouldn't have minded a french fry or thirty myself. "You eat twice as much as I do and you're as thin as a rail."

I had to watch what I was doing or I was going to fall victim to the freshman fifteen, fifteen years late. Keeping a covert eye on Keilana meant that I wasn't getting my normal amount of exercise.

"You're not fat," she said, reading my mind. Then we headed to a booth that had just been cleaned. The place was crowded and we were lucky not to have to wait. After we settled in, she plucked a menu from behind the saltshaker and began perusing it with predatory intent. "It's not like I can help it," she commented, picking up the trail of our conversation even after it was cold. She did that a lot and I was starting to get used to the fact that she needed a lot of time to process things before speaking. "I have a fast metabolism." Then her face lit up. "Ooo ... pie."

The corner of my mouth twitched upward. "You have the metabolism of six men."

She was reading the menu so intently, I'm not sure she realized she was speaking out loud. "You should hear my father. He hates the way I look and is always shoving food my way."

I tried to hide my surprise. This was the first time Keilana had mentioned her family at all. "Really?" I said lightly. "So he doesn't think thin is good?"

Keilana glanced up at me, slightly startled at herself for revealing that tidbit. "Never mind."

"C'mon." I smiled kindly. "Tell me."

She wrestled with herself for a moment before wrinkling her nose. "He thinks that mainlanders are obsessed with being thin and that I'm this way only to spite him and make myself less attractive within our social class."

"What class is that? Richer than God?"

"We prefer to say"—she threw her nose in the air for effect—"Hawaiian aristocracy."

I laughed, enjoying the rare moment of playfulness from her. "I'm sure your parents have your best interests at heart."

Her gaze clouded for a moment. "That makes one of us." Then she flipped the page of her menu and I knew that was the end of that particular line of conversation. There was a lot of hurt and resentment hiding behind Keilana's baby blues and not for the first time I wondered how much of it had been caused by my clients.

"So," she said quietly, after a few minutes. "Did you like the movie?"

I could accept a change of subject gracefully. "No, as the matter of fact, I did not."

She blinked, looking utterly bewildered. "But why? It was fantastic!"

"I'm no fan of the President, but Michael Moore is an obnoxious, slovenly, enormous Muppet. Now Starsky and Hutch"—I smiled unrepentantly—"that was a movie. Action, humor. It had it all."

Keilana looked at me as though I was an alien. "You have imbecilic tastes."

I crossed my arms over my chest defiantly. Just a couple of weeks ago her comment would have set me off. Keilana wasn't shy about offering her honest option, but I'd quickly learned that it was just part of her personality and not an attempt at meanness. "Right back at ya, sister." I pulled out a few sugar packets and began building a tower with them. "So what other movies do you like? Would I have heard of them? Or do they all have subtitles?"

She smiled tentatively and I was relieved that she wasn't bothered by my gentle return tease. "I like popular films too," she said wryly. "But only the good ones."

I arched a blond eyebrow. "Oh, really? Name one."

She arched an eyebrow right back. "New or old?"

"You choose."

"Rocky."

Beaming, I said, "That's one of my favorites!"

Her eyes lit up and her smile relaxed into something beautiful. "Really? Mine too. What's your favorite thing about the movie?"

This was more like it. "Same thing everyone likes, I guess. Kick butt boxing. Good music. And best of all, Rocky made his dreams come true even if he didn't win the fight in the end."

"Mmm ..." Keilana leaned back in her seat.

"What about you?" I prompted.

She shrugged and grabbed a sugar packet of her own and focused on it. "I liked the dream part too. But what I liked the most is that he did it with no one, ya know?"

I wasn't sure I did, but I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

A weary bitterness, unbefitting someone Keilana's age, crept into her voice. "He didn't have any real friends who cared about him. Maybe that old guy, but that wasn't enough. And the people who acted like they were his friends really weren't. Adrian's brother, for example. He didn't care about him at all. He only cared about himself and was just using Rocky."

I visibly flinched, a sliver of guilt piercing my chest.

"Rocky was so lonely he was barely living," she said thoughtfully. "His heart was a wasteland. But somehow he dug down deep inside and made it. That's what I liked best."

I swallowed thickly, never having heard such a gloomy assessment of the crowd-pleasing film. Did she think she was all alone, her heart a wasteland?

Then, unexpectedly, she let loose with a hopeful smile. "Kind of makes you think anything is possible, doesn't it?"

I guess it did. But it was time to take things down a notch. We were supposed to be having fun. "You're not going to become a boxer, are you?" I pantomimed a few punches.

She snorted, then when I flopped back into my seat, pretending to take a hard punch on the chin, her chuckles turned into a full laugh. "Hardly." Her voice was as soft and sweet. "Cadie, I'm much more of a lover than a fighter."

My mouth went bone dry. Was she flirting with me? The tips of her ears turned bright red at the same time mine did. She was! She was flirting with me, and I was loving every second of it. This wasn't Keilana admiring my ass. This was Keilana laughing and smiling and opening up just a tiny bit. And it was ten times as effective as her overt attention had been.

Just then, our waitress showed up and I turned over my coffee cup, which she silently filled. I hadn't taken out a menu so she focused on Keilana, who also turned over her cup. "Anything to eat?"

"Strawberry pie," Keilana said, giving a satisfied nod.

My eyebrows popped in surprise. Even for Keilana that was a fairly moderate choice.

"Good pick," the waitress murmured. She finished pouring Keilana's coffee and made a quick note on her pad. "Anything with that?"

The very tip of Keilana's tongue appeared as she thought. She looked like a little kid when she did it, and I privately thought it was endearing. "Yeah, a submarine sandwich and onion rings. The large size."

I smirked at the stunned look on the waitress's face. "I ... um ... I think she meant like ice cream or cool whip or something, Keilana."

She blinked. "Oh. Good idea. I'll take some ice cream." A pause. "But don't forget the sub."

"It's your funeral." The waitress, who was at least fifty pounds overweight, gave Keilana an envious look and headed back toward the kitchen.

I was about to try to steer things back to the topic of her family when I saw the expression on Keilana's face change. Her gaze was fixed over my shoulder and I turned my head to see just what had caused her radiant smile.

A tall, tanned woman with short, raven-colored hair and piercing green eyes strode into the coffee shop as quickly as her tight mini-skirt would allow.

Keilana stood up. "Billie!" She waved the woman over.

"Lana!" she screeched, causing my eardrums to bleed and everyone in the place to stare at us.

I judged the newcomer to be a few years older than me and even though she had the weathered look of someone who had been ridden hard and put away wet, something about her was undeniably attractive. Not to mention the fact that I was certain her breasts would arrive at our booth at least three seconds before the rest of her did.

When Billie sidled up to the table, she and Keilana shared a warm hug.

"I guess you two know each other," I said, trying not to look annoyed that they were both ignoring me.

"Where've you been keeping yourself, Lana?" Billie drew a pointy red fingernail down Keilana's cheek, then throat, in such a brazenly sensual fashion that I felt my cheeks heat.

Keilana grinned wildly. "I've been ..."—her voice cracked on the word—"around."

The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention.

Envy. That's what I was feeling at that moment. Billie was doing something I never could. I'm not a violent person by nature, but there was no doubting that I wanted to chop the interloper up into tiny bits and feed her to Smelly alongside his Kibble.

Billie whispered something into Keilana's ear that I couldn't quite make out and I saw Keilana's eyes darken with what I was sure was desire.

I swallowed hard. Oh, yeah, at some point these two were lovers. The only question was, how current was their affair? If Billie didn't know that classes had started for Keilana it couldn't have been too recent, could it?

"I've been busy. School's started," Keilana finally said, putting just a tiny bit of distance between her and Billie as they both sat down. "I'm actually trying to do a little better this semester so I can graduate and get out of there."

Billie smiled at Keilana. "Ah, that makes sense. You're a smart cookie, so I know you'll graduate, Lana. But I admit that I've been missing you and wouldn't mind seeing you every now and then." The genuine fondness in her voice was mirrored by Keilana.

Shit.

Keilana gave Billie's hand an affectionate squeeze but slowly released it after she said, "Same here."

All right, I let out a relieved breath. "Billie and Keilana" were the recent past, but not exactly ancient history.

Keilana finally gestured toward me. "This is Cadie."

"Hi Cadie," Billie said inattentively, before scooting closer to Keilana. "How about we make up for lost time starting tonight?"

To my disgust, Keilana genuinely seemed to consider the suggestion.

Billie didn't miss the torn look on Keilana's face and her smile turned into a full-on, shit-eatin' grin. Of all the nerve! What made her think that Keilana wasn't my date tonight? I allowed all of the emotions thrumming through me to show plainly on my face.

My expression must have been a sight, because Billie backed away from Keilana as though her skin was on fire. If this was the mainlander scum after my roommate's money, then it would be more than my pleasure to make quick work of her. Besides, she wore too much makeup and perfume, and the smell was starting to make me sick at my stomach.

Keilana glanced back and forth between me and Billie and gave us a confused look. She could feel the tension but wasn't sure of its source. "You'll see me soon, Billie. I just need to get a handle on my classes first. I'll call you."

I frowned.

Billie screwed up her courage and moved close to Keilana again. "Unless you've already got plans, you can still come back to my place tonight. I won't keep you up too late." There was no missing the smoky timbre to her voice.

Keilana squirmed in her seat and I couldn't even blame her. Billie could flip on the sex appeal like few women I've ever met. "I want to fuck your brains out" vibes literally oozed from her pores.

Keilana glanced up at me and licked her lips. "So I guess we're done for the night, huh, Cadie?" She leaned forward a little, watching my face closely. I couldn't tell if she wanted me to agree with her or not. Personally, I was leaning way toward "not."

I wanted to shout out my frustration. How could I break this case if most of my encounters with Keilana were hit and runs? "I dunno," I scrambled for an excuse for us to stay together for the rest of the evening. "I need a ride back to campus at least, and ... well ... I was sort of hoping you could help me with my French tonight before Dr. Gallop skewers me in front of the class again. I've been thinking about asking you to be my tutor." Not bad. I was pretty sure I wouldn't feel so proud of myself when I was roasting in Hell for all this lying. But at the moment I was feeling pretty clever.

To my surprise, Keilana threw her head back and laughed, something that shaved several years off her appearance and made her look like a happy teenager. "Oh, man, and you need a tutor too. Dr. Gallop is killing you!"

I chuckled, then groaned. "I know. And that bitch Shauna is enjoying every minute of it. I think I can deal with the philosophy work. It's the French that is kicking my butt. I really need your help."

"You really need me?" Keilana asked, her forehead creased. "There are other students who are better at philosophy and French than I am."

Uh-oh. "Uh ... I'd rather have you."

Her gaze softened, but I doubted she was aware of it. Billie, however, who was watching her like a hawk, didn't miss a beat. She didn't look too happy. Heh. That's right, bitch. Keilana is coming home with me tonight.

Keilana drew in a deep breath. "Billie—"

"Lana—"

They shared slightly uncomfortable smiles as the waitress came by with the food.

Keilana looked truly sorry. "I'll take a rain check on getting together, Billie. See you around soon?"

"Oh yeah," Billie rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'm not going anywhere. And if you change your mind about coming 'round to my place"—she batted her eyelashes—"not just tonight but anytime—"

"I'll call first," Keilana assured her with a broad smile.

Billie stood and smoothed down her microscopic skirt. "Good." They hugged again. "That'll give me time to get Josh to a sitter."

My eyebrows rose. Billie didn't seem the mom type. Of course, Josh could be her poodle for all I knew.

Soon Keilana and I were alone again. Things felt a little awkward, but it also felt like we'd turned a corner in our nascent relationship.

"C'mon," Keilana said, shocking me by standing up, grabbing my hand, and tugging me out of the booth. "Let's go get this French lesson over with."

I looked back at the table as Keilana tossed a twenty-dollar bill onto the Formica. "But what about the food?"

Her eyes met and fiercely held mine, though her voice was feather soft. "That's not what I'm hungry for, Cadie."

My heart began to pound and I silently whimpered, praying she would stop looking at me that way ... never? Nooo ... That's not right. She needed to stop looking at me before we got back to campus and our cottage. Where we'd be alone together. All naked and sweaty.

Okay, that last part was just fantasy. But a woman cannot live on dreams of a water cooler alone!

A slow smile swept across Keilana's face.

God, I hate my job.

To my relief and disappointment, it turned out what Keilana was hungry for was chocolate. And we sat eating it, dressed in our pajamas, soft music playing in the background as I tried to decipher what she was saying. The lights were low and I found myself really relaxing for the first time since I moved in. It was nice. Keilana, when she wasn't wary of my every move, was surprisingly easy to be around.

She repositioned herself on the sofa by throwing one leg over the armrest. "C'mon, Cadie."

"I ... I'm trying."

She blew out a frustrated breath and rolled her eyes. "I know you can do this."

"It's not like I don't want to!" It was painfully clear that I was lost. I repeated the French phrase, stumbling over several words that I was sure I should be able to easily pronounce.

She raised a suspicious eyebrow at me. "You don't speak French at all, do you?"

"Sure I do," I said, a touch defensively. "Sort of." I've always hated looking like an idiot and lately I did little else around my roommate.

She nodded slowly. "Okay." Then she plucked the book from my hands. "So make up your own sentence with more than four words in it." She sat my book on the table and snagged a Hershey's Kiss from the candy bowl next to the book.

My mind raced for a way to exit this situation without looking like an even bigger loser, but I came up completely blank. "I don't wanna." Oh, that was mature.

She focused on the candy as she began to unwrap it. "I think you do."

I stared at her. It was either hate Keilana or do my best to like her as I stumbled through this job. Once I had made that decision to do my best to get along with her, I found that liking her was easier than I thought it would be. But God knows she didn't always make it easy. "I'm not kidding. I can't do this."

"You can."

Argh! Newman was back! "I can't!"

She popped the chocolate into her mouth. "You don't seem the type of woman who believes in excuses. You can do this. You just need to—"

"Fine!" I exploded. "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?" Oops, I hadn't really meant to shout.

She began to choke on her chocolate and I had to slap her on the back a few times to dislodge it from her throat. "Wh-what did you say?" Keilana spluttered, her face splotchy and red from her near-death experience.

I knew it was stupid to care what she thought, but I did, and I covered my face with my hands, genuinely humiliated. "That's all I can say!" I wailed.

She tried to hold it for a few seconds, but she couldn't help but burst out laughing.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "It's not that funny."

She tossed her own book on the coffee table and smothered her laughter when she saw the angry glint flare up in my eyes. "Cadie, Dr. Gallop's class is the third in a series of classes that were all in French. The others were prerequisites for this one."

All I could think to say was, "Oh." God, I'm brilliant sometimes.

"Cadie," she said softly, "why are you in that class at all if you can't speak stinking French?"

I'd expected her to tease me, not honest curiosity, and I blinked a few times as I adjusted to another case of mental whiplash.

I wanted to say, "I can't spy on you from Pottery 101." Instead, I opted for something safer. "My.. uh ... my folks picked my classes. I didn't have much choice."

Her gaze darkened and she gave my leg a sympathetic pat. "That's happened to me before. It sucks."

"Well, they're paying for all this." I gestured to our undeniably comfortable surroundings. "So I guess it's not such a bad deal. If I don't flunk out, I'll have a degree when I'm finished and I won't have any debt." It had taken me several years to pay off my student loans for the measly amount of time I was in college. No degree and a pile of bills was not fun.

"It's not worth it," she said flatly. "It's only money."

I couldn't help it, I sniggered.

She sat up a little straighter. "What?"

"Nothing." She was glaring at me, but the fire in her eyes wasn't as hot as it had been last week. Still, I could tell I wasn't going to get off the hook until I gave her some sort of explanation for my comment. "Fine. It's easy to say ‘it's only money' when you've never gone without. Not that I have," I quickly added. It was so hard to remember that I was supposed to be her peer. I might have looked the part I was playing, but I sure as hell didn't feel it. "I hear having to scrape to make ends meet can be really rough. I hear some kids live on Ramen noodles and Kool-Aid through college."

Keilana looked at me intently. "You're wrong, you know. Just because I haven't done without myself, doesn't mean I don't know the value of a dollar." Her gaze intensified as she spoke. "I understand just how far people are willing to go to make ends meet and to survive."

My ears perked. "You do?"

Somewhat reluctantly, she nodded. "Yeah. So don't think just because my parents have money that I don't know there's a real world out there where everything isn't as pretty and easy as this."

Ooo ... This was getting good. Talking to Keilana was like opening a can after the paper label had fallen off somewhere. I had no idea what I was going find when I finally pried off the lid.

"You don't see many students struggling here on campus." I picked up a piece of candy, being sure not to look at her directly as I spoke. "Everyone looks pretty privileged. Not getting a new designer dress whenever you want one isn't exactly what I'd call money troubles." Take the bait ...

"I'm not talking about the students here. I don't know a single student who even has a real job. Most of us live on allowances and Mommy and Daddy's credit cards."

"You don't?"

Suddenly she looked very uncomfortable.

My digging was pretty blatant, but I was too close to quit now. Hmm ... I wonder ... "You don't have to tell me, Keilana." I gave her an apologetic look. "I didn't mean to pry."

Her shoulders relaxed in obvious relief, the shuttered look on her face quickly evaporating. "I cut up the credit cards."

God, I'm a horrible, rotten, sneaky rat bastard. "Because they can track what you do with them?" I guessed.

"Yeah. And the allowance ... well, let's just say it gets put to better use than my buying expensive shoes and concert tickets."

"But how do you live? You need at least some cash for everyday things. Do you moonlight as a waitress or something?" I wadded up the silver foil candy wrapper and tossed it back into bowl.

"No. I-I-I ..."

I looked up from my chocolate and waited. When she paused, I prompted her with a gentle, "Do you?"

"Not exactly." She glanced down. "Well, it's nothing you'd be interested in. But I guess that maybe I could show you sometime."

Cha-Ching! I was doing "the wave" on the inside even as a part of me was praying she wasn't going to take me to her Meth lab where a truckload of illegal aliens were employed as her minion slaves. I forced myself to sound only mildly interested. "That'd be cool. How about we go now? It's not that late."

She smiled enigmatically. "Not tonight."

Why the fuck not? "But—"

"Tonight you have to learn some French."

I was dangerously near to pouting or crying. And I almost never cry. "But I don't want to."

Keilana seemed to struggle with herself for several seconds before coming to some internal decision. "I have an idea. Stand up." When I didn't move quick enough she reached down and took my hand, tugging me to my feet. She was a lot stronger than she looked. "Okay, close your eyes."

"Why would I do that? I don't want to cl—"

Keilana put her hands on her hips. "For fuck's sake, Cadie, can't you just play along? You're the one who asked for my help, remember?"

My mouth clicked closed. I hated when she was right and I reminded myself that I really should do more to be a good sport. After all, if it hadn't been for me, she and Billie would be probably be ... Well, I really didn't want to think what she and Billie would be doing about now. But I was sure that moaning and the words "harder, baby!" would be involved.

"Good," Keilana said, suddenly smiling again. "Now close your eyes."

Dutifully, I did as she asked, turning my head to follow the soft sound of her bare feet on the floor as she moved behind me.

"Let's start easy. You answer in French." Her voice was velvety soft and she was standing so close to my back that goose bumps broke out across my shoulders. Her breath caressed my skin, causing it to tingle. "What color are my eyes?"

I sighed dreamily, hoping that it didn't sound as dreamy to Keilana's ears as it did to mine. "Beau bleu."

She chuckled softly. "Thank you. How about a whole sentence next time? Now what about yours?"

"What about mine?"

"En français, s'il vous plait!"

I could hear the smile in her words as she mimicked Dr. Gallop.

I chewed my lip as I tried to remember the word for what I wanted to say. I'd been studying for the past couple of weeks and bits and pieces were starting to come back to me. Too bad it wasn't nearly enough. "Umm ... I think ... I mean ... Ils sont des boues."

"Tsk." She tugged a curl of hair that fell just above my ear. "They're not the color of mud. Vos yeux sont la couleur de caramel chaud ..."

This close I could smell the subtle, spicy scent of her perfume, and it was wonderfully distracting. I swallowed hard. "Huh?"

"Your eyes are the color of warm caramel," she purred directly into my ear.

"Yow!" I nearly jumped out of my skin. What the hell was she doing? "Keilana?" I squealed.

"Shh. We're not finished," she said matter of factly, but she wrapped a firm arm around my waist to hold me in place. "Eyes closed and stay still, okay?"

I was starting to get really turned on, but stupidly, I was more curious than cautious, and so I quickly nodded.

She didn't wait a single heartbeat before she molded her body to mine and rested her chin on my shoulder. Damn, that felt great. We were both wearing thin pajama tank tops and shorts, and I could feel her hard nipples pressing against my back and the sudden warmth of her naked thighs intimately touching mine. My heart began to thud wildly and my breathing quickened. But I did as she had asked, remaining stock still with my eyes closed tight.

"What's this?" She plucked at my hem of my shirt.

I was surprised when I heard myself say, "Chemise." The word had popped into my mind without thought.

"Mm-hm. See? You know more than you think you do. And what about this?" Warm fingers circled my wrist.

"Poignet."

"Very good. And now?" Her fingers moved to my palm and she gave it a little scratch.

"I ..." My tongue felt thick in my throat. "I have n-n-no idea."

"C'est votre paume."

My heart was beating so loudly I could barely hear what she was saying. "Paume," I agreed absently. "Ri-right."

She snuck her hand under my shirt and stroked my stomach with the tips of her fingers. I was sure she could feel the butterflies that were doing back flips there.

"Uhmm ..."

She pressed her cheek to mine. "Skin, Cadie. Soft skin. You know the words. Think."

But I couldn't think! She was seducing me and I was letting her. And when she attached her lips to the back of my neck, I forgot how to breathe. This should not be happening. She's too young for me. It wasn't right, but it was so good! And she's, she's ... so damn sizzling hot my entire body aches for her!

My knees nearly buckled and a low moan was torn from my chest when she used her teeth and tongue to stroke the length of my jugular. Her lips were so soft I melted under their attention. God, if only I could be myself. I would kiss her senseless! If only I wasn't here to spy on her and lie to her and — Liar. Spy. The words were like having a bucket of ice water dumped on my head, and they snapped me out of my lust-induced haze with a near physical force.

I spun around to face my tormentor, whose skin was flushed and whose eyes were dark with passion. Oh, God. I began to stumble backward, mortified that I hadn't put a stop to things sooner. "We ... we shouldn't do this." I scrubbed my face. Fuck!

"Why not?" Her face showed her hurt but she managed to keep her voice even. "Don't tell me you don't like girls. I know better."

My mouth worked for a few seconds. I wasn't even out to my parents and here I was about to tell her? "Well, I do but—"

"And don't tell me you don't want me." Her eyes drilled into mine, and my temperature rose. "I've seen the way you watch me, Cadie. The way you look at me."

Lord, take me now. Please.

"You want me. And I can tell you right now that I want you." She lowered her voice. "Badly." She took a step closer to me and I instantly took a step back.

Even though I was the one being chased, I felt like the fox in the hen house. All right, so I was more snake than fox, but it was still clear that I couldn't be trusted anywhere near her.

"So what's the problem?" She took another few steps forward, and I kept right on backing up until my back was against the wall, and we were standing toe to toe.

"We're roommates," I said lamely, the chilly wall doing little to cool my ardor.

Her eyes smiled. "I won't hold that against you."

"You won't?" I said weakly. "Are you sure? 'Cause you can if you want. I practically insist."

"We're both available and interested." She cocked her head to the side. "Why should we deny ourselves?"

I marveled at her confidence. And why was she being so reasonable? She was the most unreasonable woman I'd ever met! The third day in the cottage I accidentally used her toothpaste and she threatened to set my bed on fire. Now she was being all mature?

"We won't be hurting anyone," she continued.

Relief flooded me. Thank God she'd finally hit on something that wasn't true. We could both get hurt. "Listen, Keilana," I proceeded as carefully as I could. "If we sleep together and it doesn't work out, I would be uncomfortable living here."

She looked unconvinced by my statement.

"I'm too lazy to move!"

That made her smile. "Cadie?"

"If it doesn't work out things would be ... tense." Like they weren't already.

"If what doesn't work out?"

I gestured wildly and only just kept from pumping my hips for emphasis. "You know!"

She gave me an incredulous look. "Are you saying sleeping with me might suck?"

"No! Sleeping with you ..." I closed my eyes briefly in a bid for self-control. "I have no doubt that we'd be great in bed together." Truer words were never spoken. We generated enough heat and tension on a daily basis to run a power plant. We'd barely touched and every nerve in my body was singing. I'd be lucky not to spontaneously combust if she actually kissed me.

"Then I don't get it. I like you, but I don't want a girlfriend. I just want to have sex with you. In case you haven't noticed, we're both young, and healthy, and you're hot enough to have me dripping wet already."

My jaw dropped and my pussy clenched so tightly I thought I might come on the spot.

"So?"

So let's do it! I groaned. "I'm sorry, Keilana." My eyes conveyed true regret. In fact, the rest of my body would probably never forgive me. "I can't. "

She lifted her jaw and stepped back. She didn't say a word but I could tell that she was disappointed.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." But her words were stiff.

Keilana grabbed her car keys from the kitchen counter and slipped into a pair of sandals that were by the door. I didn't want her to leave mad, not to mention in her pajamas. We'd made real progress in the last couple of weeks and I wasn't about to throw that all away over a quick fuck. I blocked her path to the door.

"Move," she said crisply, visible holding back her emotions. "I mean it."

I wasn't sure whether she was really angry, but I was sure that I had hurt her feelings by rejecting her. "Not until we talk some more."

"There's nothing to talk about. I made you an offer." She forced a shrug. "You turned me down. It happens."

I gave her a small, knowing smile. "It doesn't happen to you though, does it?" Her eyes widened just a touch and I knew that I was right.

"I'm not sure why, but it never has before," she finally admitted a little sheepishly.

It was no mystery why to me, but I didn't interrupt.

"There's a first time for everything." She wrinkled her nose. "I guess ... well, I wouldn't have made such a fool of myself if I thought that you'd turn me down." She shook her head. "You seemed ... I mean, I thought—"

"I am very attracted to you. I'd be insane not to be." Didn't she know I'd be taking a thirty-minute cold shower tonight? "I'm also sorrier than I can say. But I don't want a quick lay and then nothing else. I really meant it when I said I wanted to be your friend. And sleeping together now would probably mess that up. Please, please don't be mad."

Her expression softened just a fraction and she pursed her lips.

"Please?" I gave her my best puppy dog eyes.

I could see the wheels in her head spinning. Her eyes still showed a combination of hurt and unspent lust and it was all I could do not to kiss it away.

"All right," she murmured after a moment. "But I reserve the right to try to ask you again at some future date."

I prayed she wouldn't, because I was very sure that I would not have the willpower to turn her down twice. "Deal."

She looked down at her feet and flexed her toes. "I don't have many friends, Cadie."

"Neither do I." It was true. I dated every once in a while, but nothing much seemed to come of it. Smelly, Russ, and a couple of the other dick draggers from my favorite beach were pretty much my entire social circle.

She glanced up from her feet to me. "And you want to be my friend more than you want to sleep with me?" She sounded skeptical and I guess I couldn't blame her.

"I'm clearly insane," I smiled, "but yeah."

"And you don't want any kind of a loan or to meet my father maybe?"

My heart ached for her. She'd obviously been hurt badly by some asshole who was using her. And I swore that I'd finish this job and get out of her life before she ever knew that I was basically doing the same thing. "I don't give a good Goddamn about your loot or the Poppenhouse Cookie dynasty. I don't even like cookies."

A tentative smile appeared on her face and it was as though a weight had toppled off my shoulders. "Everyone likes cookies."

I gave her a guilty look. "Yeah, I know."

"Are you hungry?" she suddenly asked. "'Cause I gave up my sandwich in hopes of something tastier tonight." She laughed softly when my cheeks colored.

I wasn't hungry in the least. In fact, I felt a little sick at my stomach after everything that had happened. Still, I managed to paste on a smile. "I'm starved."

CHAPTER FIVE

ANOTHER WEEK PASSED before something big changed. It's not like I hadn't been waiting for something to break, but I was still a little surprised when it happened. We had our first round of college exams. I barely passed mine, but that was no shock.

Keilana, on the other hand, got all A's. I expected her to come home after her last class today, do a little homework, some reading for pleasure, and then we'd scare up a late supper together. It was what we did every night and I'd come to look forward to it.

I know it seems sappy, but I was so proud and happy for her! She'd worked damned hard and it had paid off in spades. I had picked up some wine and flowers at the grocery store in Santa Medina to celebrate her big accomplishment, but when I got back to our cottage after a quick trip to the grocery in Santa Medina, all I found was a worthless note that made me want to tear my hair out by the roots.

Cadie—

Gone out for the evening. Don't wait up. I think there is some leftover shrimp & rice in the fridge. Help yourself

to it all.

K.

"Damn!" I dropped the bag of groceries on the counter in disgust. I couldn't believe that I'd let sloppy sentimentality send me the store for celebration goodies when I should have been watching my quarry. What was wrong with me lately?

I read the note again. She didn't say where she was heading and I wondered what she was hiding and whether it was intentional or just a side effect of her very private personality. A kernel of worry exploded in my belly. Whatever she was doing had to be really bad. If not, why hide it?

Then I thought of Keilana's parking tickets. It was Friday night. Had she driven to San Diego?

It was warm, but rainy, and a staccato of drops bombarded the Jaguar's windshield as I pulled out of the campus parking lot. The car was fabulous, but would stick out like a sore thumb in the part of town where I was heading. Truth be told, I was glad for an excuse to go back to my apartment, if only for a few minutes.

I live on the third floor of an enormous, turn-of-the-century home that had been converted into four separate apartments during WWII. It's close to downtown and I have a private parking space in the alley behind the backyard. I've lived here for more than fifteen years and have seen a couple dozen other tenants come and go in that timeframe. I, however, haven't really had a reason to leave. The rent is reasonable, they allow me to keep Smelly, and I have a lot more privacy than I would in one of those enormous townhouse complexes on the other side of town.

Currently, I was the only resident not collecting Social Security so it was also deathly quiet there. Part of the reason I worked so much and spent so much time at the beach was that it allowed me to be around other people. Living alone can be ... well ... lonely. Not to mention boring as hell.

I pulled up next to my Mustang, a warm fuzzy feeling enveloping me, even though the car was, I fully admit, a heap of junk. But it wasn't just any car. It was my first car. I'd fended off several boyfriends in that car, and when I'd gotten older, given in to several girlfriends there. And even though I was sitting in a gem right now, I was looking forward to sliding behind the wheel of my own vehicle and sinking down into the seat that had perfectly molded to my butt over the years. It was mine and that's what I liked best about it.

But I wasn't going anywhere without the car keys, which were inside my apartment. Large trees shielded me from most of the rain as I trotted up the sandy path that bisected the backyard. As I unlocked the back door, I noticed the white paint on the house looked a little dingy and a few of the shutters were cracked. Why hadn't I seen that before? Had I gotten spoiled after only a few weeks at Madonna Del Mar? I thought of Shauna and frowned. If I believed I might start acting like her, I'd go jump off a bridge somewhere.

I was greeted with a blast of stale air when I opened my apartment door. And despite the rain, I threw open a window. The place was dark and drab compared to my new digs. And it was, I decided with a sigh, too quiet with Smelly gone. I snagged the keys from their usual resting place on my kitchen counter and noticed my answering machine blinking. Three messages.

The first was some dick-weed wanting to know if I wanted to switch my long distance carrier. The next was from my mom. She was wondering whether I was still alive and I made a mental note to call her back the next day. The last message was from Russ, pleading with me to toss him a crumb of information about my case. His workload was light at the moment and I guessed he was about ready to crawl up the walls with nothing to do.

I was just about to call him back when I heard a noise coming from my bathroom. I swallowed hard. Shit! I'd walked in on an intruder. The bum was probably hoping to find some nice prescription drugs in my medicine chest.

I didn't carry a big-ass gun in my purse like TV detectives. I didn't even have a baseball bat. I've always found running in the opposite direction of trouble to be a lot safer than direct confrontation. But tonight, for some reason, I didn't have the urge to flee. I had the urge to stay and fight.

I stood there, on a razor's edge, unsure of exactly what to do. Okay, that's not quite true. I knew what I should do, and I knew what I wanted to do. And as often happens with me, my emotions took control and common sense flew out the window. The thought that some skanky stranger might have pawed my most personal and prized possessions—Granny's locket, my mint condition first issue of Surfing, my collectible Wonder Woman lunch box—was more than I could bear.

Furious and with wild emotions pouring off me like the sparks from a firecracker, I crept over to the bathroom door and hid alongside it. It was mostly dark there and I left the lights off as I waited in the shadows. I heard the toilet flush and envisioned the lid being left up. "Bastard!" I seethed quietly. A nervous sweat beaded on my upper lip.

The door opened and I saw the shadow of a middle-sized man fill the doorway, drying his hands on my towels. He turned and tossed the towel back into the bathroom. Pig! My heart was beating so fast that I couldn't distinguish the beats. Adrenaline sang through my veins, making my limbs shake in anticipation.

I didn't give myself time to think or chicken out. Instead, I let out a primal roar and jumped in front of the door. The man jumped back when he saw me, but not in time to avoid my stunning kick to his groin. He fell to the ground with an inhuman wail, and I reared back to kick him again ... when Smelly scampered out of the bathroom, tromping over the writhing man's head in the process.

Uh-oh. I blinked. "Russ?"

All I heard was groaning.

I flicked on the hall light and there he was, curled up in a ball of misery, cursing me in between his whimpers as he rocked back and forth.

"Russ! Oh, God." I dropped to my knees, petting Smelly with one hand and patting Russ on the back with the other. "I didn't know it was you." I didn't know where to touch him. It wasn't like I could comfort him there. "It was an accident, I swear!"

He bit his lip, a tortured look on his face. "Ugh ... You evil … ugh … damn, ughhhhh, fuckin'-A … Jesus—"

Wow. I'd never seen a human being's face so red.

"I thought you were a burglar!" I cried. "Oh, please don't puke there, okay?" Smelly began to whine and lick Russ's face. Apparently, guys of all species have a special sort of empathy for each other in moments like these.

Russ was finally able to moan, "Do I look like a bu-burglar?"

I sighed, relieved that he'd stopped writhing. "You did in the dark. I didn't know you'd be here. What was I supposed to think?"

He didn't have a good answer for that, but he still managed to pose a very good question. "Since when do you attack burglars, Belinda?" He rolled over on his back and threw one arm over his eyes. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? Are you crazy? What if I'd had a gun or a knife?"

"I-I-I—" I couldn't think of a single reasonable explanation for what I'd just done. "The burglar's butt was on my toilet." I gestured frantically. "I couldn't think straight!"

He laughed even though I could tell it hurt when he did it. "Forget that I asked if you're crazy. I already know the answer."

Another moment passed before he sat up, his face a little pasty.

"Russ, do you need to go the hospital?" I was horrified at the thought that I might have ruptured something that he, and presumably his wife, dearly loved. I'd threatened his balls many times over the years of our friendship, but I never intended to actually crush them.

"No way." He let out a painful breath. "No way am I going to explain to some nurse that my best friend"—he glanced at my T-shirt—"who is wearing pink today, I might add, beat me up."

"Do you want some ice or something?"

"So long as it's in a tall glass of scotch."

I nodded, relieved that I could do anything to help. Russ knew I didn't drink scotch, but I fetched two shockingly cold bottles of Sam Adams from the refrigerator and then hurried back to his side. I slid down the wall to join Russ, who was now sitting up and leaning against the wall in the hall. "What are you doing here anyway?" I passed him a bottle. "Did you and Sarah have another fight?"

"Yeah," his heavy brow furrowed. "A bad one."

I leaned my shoulder against his, and he rested his hand on my knee. Sometimes the best support you can offer a friend doesn't require any words at all.

He took a long pull of beer. "I crashed on your sofa last night and was going to do it again tonight." He inclined his head toward the dog. "Smelly missed you."

"I missed him, too." I petted my mutt again and he instantly rolled over so I could scratch his belly. I happily obliged, a smile blooming on my face.

"Why are you here?" Russ asked, his curiosity showing. We shared that sometimes-maddening trait. It was an occupational hazard. "You're supposed to be at that fancy pants college, aren't you?"

"I'm picking up my car so I can trail Keilana."

Russ snorted. "Good luck. That girl has eyes in the back of her head. Hey, why didn't you just go with her when she left? Isn't that the point of living with her?"

I squirmed a little. "I wasn't invited, okay? She's got a life of her own. But at least I have an idea of where she's gone. Or at least the general vicinity."

He scratched his stubble-covered chin. Apparently being away from the wife means no shaving. "So you're going to go looking for her tonight instead of waiting till she comes home?"

I nodded. "I have to. Whatever it is she's up to, she does away from campus. I'm sure of that. Besides ..." My lips tensed. I hated to admit this for about a million different reasons. "She might never trust me enough to take me wherever it is she goes."

"Can I come too?" He finished off his beer in a few hurried swallows. "I'm ready." He snickered. "I've already been to the bathroom, Mom. I wouldn't go in there for a while, by the way."

Gross. "You can't come with me, Russ."

His eyes widened in disbelief. "Belinda!"

"The answer is no."

It was obvious that he was struggling not to raise his voice. "Why not?"

I knew he had to be bored here. Russ had the attention span of a three-year old and was always full of restless energy. "Keilana already spotted you when you were following her earlier this year. If she sees you with me it'll blow my cover."

"Are you going to let her see you?"

I nearly spit out my drink. "Of course not! I'm not going to get made."

He narrowed his eyes at me.

"I'm going to spy on her and remain hidden. Alone."

He took my bottle from me and stole a sip. "Well ..." He licked the beer from his lips and passed me back the bottle. "If she won't see you, and I'm with you, then she won't see me either, right?"

"But—"

"Besides, back when I was following her she only saw me from a distance. And I was wearing a hat and dark glasses. I never even got out of the car. No way she could I.D. me after all this time."

I was about to say no again when he added, "Please?"

Shit. I was a sucker for him when he was polite. "Fine. But we need to go now. Can you walk?" I stood up and offered him a hand. Russ is only a few inches taller than me, with a thick neck and muscular body. I had to lean way back to help him to his feet. God, what did his wife feed him?

Wobbly, he stood, then drew in a deep breath and took a tentative step, nodding at the results. "I can walk. And I can sure as hell sit in your car. By the way you owe my injured ‘boys'"—he pointed to his crotch—"a trip to Burger Boy later. And just so you know, I'm getting double of everything."

My face twisted in disgust. "Uck. I'll take you to Burger Boy every time we're together for a month if you swear to never mention your ‘boys' in my presence ever, ever again."

"Deal." He grinned wildly. "Hey, Belinda, have we ever talked about my—"

"Don't even go there, Russ."

There was no single word that could describe this corner of San Diego's southeast side. The locals called the area El Vientre del Diablo. The Devil's Belly. And butted up against El Vientre del Diablo was one of the older parts of the city that had recently been the recipient of millions of dollars of redevelopment funds. It was an area in transition; an eclectic mix of grimy and dilapidated, glitzy and new. Right now, however, we were still in the part that was too salty and dangerous to be a tourist trap.

"God, Russ," I had to flick on my windshield wipers as the rain shifted from a sprinkle to a steady downpour. With twilight's rapid approach, the gray skies had taken on an amethyst hue. "I hope we don't find her hanging out here. But the area where Keilana got all those parking tickets is just few a streets over from here."

I stopped at an intersection so two tranny hookers could cross the street in front of my car. The wind and the rain had caused their once lofty hairstyles to fall into their faces, and they gave me a grateful wave as they scurried across the street, wearing shoes that looked like Dorothy's ruby red slippers from The Wizard of Oz. I grimaced. "Is that mascara pooling at their collars?" I mumbled, my eyes scanning both sides of the road for Keilana.

I barely heard his wistful sigh. "They remind me of my wife."

Good grief. Russ's wife is pretty, five feet, two inches tall, blond, and with a cupid-bow mouth. She reminded me of Betty Boop with an attitude.

The hookers had five o'clock shadows, were black, and tall enough to play for the NBA. "The resemblance is uncanny. How does Sarah resist your charm, Russ?"

"She manages."

I felt a twinge of pity for my friend. "Oh, fine. You don't have to sleep on the sofa at my place anymore." I'd always taken Russ in during his times of need. Which were many. But I'd always drawn the line at letting him use my bedroom.

His face lit up. "Really?"

I rolled my eyes at myself. "Yeah. You can have the bed, but only till I get home." I pointed at him. "And take the sheets with you when you leave."

"How long do you think that will that be? Till you come home, I mean."

My lips tensed. I thought of collecting my big paycheck from the Poppenhouses, and then I thought of never seeing Keilana again. I wasn't sure which one of those thoughts made my stomach lurch, but it did. "It won't be long now." I prayed that would be true.

"Are you okay, Belinda? You've been sort of quiet tonight."

I hadn't been quiet at all. I'd told him all about living with Keilana and school and the college life from a new perspective. Then we'd talked for a while about the progress reports I was sending Keilana's father every three days. But he was right about one thing. I'd felt … I don't know … "off" for lack of a better word.

I was never very good at hiding my feelings and I smiled ruefully at Russ. "I'm ... I guess this job is starting to get to me. All the lying and spying. It's a lot easier when you don't know the person whose privacy you're invading."

He gave me a sympathetic look, then turned to glance out his window. "It's just a job. Money in your pocket, ya know? You can't let it tie you into knots. Besides, from what the parents said, the kid is hell on wheels. If someone is spying on her, it's because of her own doing."

My jaw clenched with sudden anger. "That's bullshit! Keilana doesn't deserve what I'm doing to her. Yeah, she can make me crazy and all, but she's also funny and smart and kind. She even laughs when I repeat the lousy jokes you've told me."

My blood pressure was still rising and I didn't try to stop it. "She smiles at me when I do something right in class. And last week, out of the blue, she bought me a quart of my favorite flavor of ice cream and put it in the freezer without saying a word. She's on some campus committee that collects used clothes for women and kids in battered women's shelters. Bet you didn't know that either?"

Russ didn't answer, but his eyes widened a bit.

I was on a roll, the words pouring out of me in an angry stream. "Of course you didn't. Nobody even thinks she'd do something that wasn't all about her. And I used to be just as ignorant. Oh, and she offered to help me pass my impossible fucking classes. For free." I left out the part about her wanting to get me naked since it didn't really didn't help me get my point across.

"I guess I didn't know any that," Russ admitted after a moment of worriedly staring at me. "But you make her sound like some goodie-two-shoes." He lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "I find that hard to believe, even with the way you've blabbered on all night about how great she is."

My mouth opened but no words came out. Had I really blabbered? "I do not blabber. And she's not some lame Girl Scout. But she's not some rotten rich bitch either. I've found out a lot of other good things about her that I'll bet her parents don't even know." I couldn't hide my disgust. It was hard enough hiding my distain in my progress reports I had to submit to the Poppenhouses. "I've been there for weeks and they haven't bothered to call her once."

He shrugged one shoulder. "They told me that she refuses to return their calls."

I slapped the steering wheel with my open hand. "They aren't even trying! They can't just give up. They are the parents. And they are the ones who hired you to spy on her. Of course Keilana is angry. Wouldn't you be?"

A tiny crease appeared between Russ's eyes. "The Poppenhouses aren't giving up on her. If they were, they wouldn't have hired you, Belinda."

I knew that was true even though my sympathy for Mr. and Mrs. Poppenhouse diminished everyday I lived with their daughter. Nobody who hasn't been treated badly acted the way Keilana did. Nobody. And since they seemed to be as much to blame as Keilana for their sucky parent/child relationship, I refused to go out of my way to let them off the hook. "The parents probably made matters worse by hiring me. If Keilana ever finds out ..." My heart sped up a little at the mere thought. "She'll never trust them." Or me. "Ever again. And I mean never."

I was all wound up, but I didn't want to argue with Russ, so I forced my shoulders to relax and somehow managed a slow, calming breath. "Look," I said as I glanced sideways. "I've been with Keilana nearly twenty-four seven, she's not a bad person. She's not." My eyes begged him to believe me. I'm not sure why that was suddenly so important to me. It just was.

"And that reminds me"—my tone dared him to disagree—"she's not doing dope!" Oops, I was starting to get all crazy again.

"You think she's hooking?"

A prostitute? I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white and my hands hurt. I fought back the bitter taste of bile. "No way."

"What's going on with her then? It's gotta be something," Russ said, looking mildly startled by my vehemence.

"I-I—" I just shook my head. "I don't know." A sigh escaped. I was still angry at myself for letting Keilana out of my sight in the first place. "I think she's just a regular, mixed-up young woman, who is really angry with her parents and is as mistrustful of everyone else as she is of them. I'll admit she's got a secret though. Or we wouldn't be driving around in the rain looking for her."

He smiled wickedly. "She won't have the secret for long."

I couldn't help but feel a tingle of anticipation in my belly. The chase was on.

We drove in silence for a few moments before he asked, "Do you think Keilana's attractive?"

"God, yes," I said lot more quickly than I'd intended. I bit my tongue and briefly closed my eyes. Crap.

A relieved-looking smile broke out on Russ's face. "Belinda," he taunted with a chuckle. "You're hot for your roomie!" He slapped his knee, and laughed little louder. "God, you had me worried there for a minute."

"Shut up." There was no way I could deny it and get away with it, so I didn't even bother trying. I wasn't just hot for Keilana. I was long past hot. About now I would fit nicely into the "smoldering piles of ashes" category. There were times when I was sure that everyone around me could see steam rising from my ears and other hotter, wetter body parts of my body as I burned apart from within.

"She drives you to distraction, doesn't she?"

I swallowed my pride. "Yes. Yes. Yes! I can't think anymore because I want her so badly! Happy?"

He clucked his tongue at me. "You do know that Kale Poppenhouse would probably hire a hit man to bury your ass in the Mexican desert if you as much as laid a finger on her, don't you?" His expression turned serious. "You're playing with fire."

"I'm well aware of that, Russ." I smiled a sickly-sweet smile. "But thanks so much for reminding me."

"No problem." He wiped mock sweat from his brow. "For a second I thought you had your head screwed on backwards and had ... . I dunno ... a crush on her or something equally stupid. I should have known you wouldn't go and do something so nuts. Wanting to bang her is dangerous, but completely understandable. Falling for her would be ... well, even you aren't that crazy."

My face heated as I considered his words. Falling for her? Was I? God above, I knew in my heart that I was just that crazy! I stopped for a red light and rubbed my temples with one hand. They were starting to throb.

A crush was way, way worse than just wanting to jump her bones. Sex I could deal with. A case of unrequited puppy love was something that I hadn't had since the eighth grade. And come to think of it, it had ended badly then too.

I wasn't anxious to repeat the experience.

The light turned green and I punched the gas pedal, slamming Russ back against his seat.

"Okay," I said, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "I admit that I'm hot for her."

He smiled smugly as he braced himself in his seat. "I knew it!"

"But that's all you get out of me on the subject. At least for tonight. Oh, and Russ?" I turned my head to face him. "You really need to stop teasing me about this right now."

He blinked. "I do?"

"Yes." I slowed my Mustang down so that I could scan a small parking lot for Keilana's car. "Because now that I know how easy it is to kick you in the balls, I'm much more likely to do it again. At any moment the mood strikes me, as a matter of fact."

He gulped, and amazingly, that shut him up tighter than a clam ... for all of five seconds.

He shook his head and gave me an envious look. "Belinda, you could have more pussy than the Humane Society if you'd only open your eyes to the women around you.

I hung my head. "Jesus, Russ."

"Just don't let it be with a client's daughter."

"Do you always have to be so disgusting?" I wasn't angry that he'd blown off my threat. He usually did.

He let out a low whistle as he shook his head. "I can't blame you for sniffin' after the Poppenhouse kid. There's something sexy as hell about her."

I ground my teeth together. That was the second time he'd called her a "kid" in the last five minutes. "She's twenty-one years old, not twelve." I would have knocked the smirk right off his face if I hadn't been twice as obnoxious about the nineteen-year-old pet groomer's assistant he'd briefly dated a few years ago. She still had braces on her teeth and talked about her senior prom incessantly.

"Okay, okay, she's not jail bait," he allowed good-naturedly. "You're lucky there." Then his jaw dropped the way it always did when he experienced an epiphany that he wasn't particularly happy about. "She's into chicks too?"

Reluctantly, I nodded. Normally, I wouldn't share that sort of personal information about someone, but Keilana was totally out about her sexual orientation and Russ and I always talk about the women in our lives. The ones we've had, and the ones we only dream of having.

"Oh, man!" He couldn't have looked more bereft if I'd told him that his beloved San Diego Chargers were moving to Calcutta. "Isn't that always the way?" he cried. "Dammit all to hell. That blows!"

I flashed him an incredulous look. Why is it that when a guy finds out an attractive woman is a lesbian, he always takes it so personally? As though there will now be a shortage of women and that he, personally, will have to do without. "It's not like you had a chance at her, you pervert!"

He pointed as his chest with his thumb. "Why am I the pervert?"

Thinking of Russ and Keilana together made my blood boil, but I couldn't very well say that. "Because ... umm ... because you're too old for her!"

His dark eyebrows rose. "You just made it very clear that she was a grownup. I'm only four years older than you." He poked me in the shoulder a little harder than necessary. "If I'm a pervert, you're one too."

Shit. Rule number one, perverts who live in glass houses really shouldn't throw stones. "I'm not married and you are." Hah! Take that.

"And I hope to be married for a long time. But that doesn't mean I'm blind." His gaze softened. "Living with her must be torture, huh?"

The lump in my throat rose so unexpectedly that I didn't answer for fear that my voice would crack. The road before us became a little blurrier.

Living with Keilana wasn't torture. It was astonishingly easy. And that made things even harder. What was torture was the knowledge that I was taking the nascent trust and friendship we shared and shredding it to bits on a daily basis with my endless lies and duplicity. I was using her.

I was worse than her parents, who, even though they were the sort who shouldn't have attempted to raise anything more complicated than a fern, were at least acting in part out of concern for their child. I was only in this for the money.

Russ must have noticed the sudden wave of melancholy that washed over me because he turned to face his side window again and gave me a tiny bit of privacy. He rubbed the fog that collected there with the back of his hand and peered out. I wasn't a scum-sucking pile of shit. I was the flea on the scum-sucking pile of shit.

I could tell that Russ wanted to say more on the subject and I wasn't sure what was holding him back. Still, I was grateful for the reprieve. He'd been peppering me with questions about my case and Keilana all night and I'd had about as much of the Curious George routine as I could handle.

A gust of wind shook my Mustang as I turned and rounded a sharp corner. Even in this lousy weather, the street I merged onto was busier than the one we'd just traveled, and pedestrians under umbrellas or baseball hats crowded the sidewalks as they waited to get into various dance clubs and bars. It was a rough and ready, young crowd that included a fair share of partying Marines.

Russ grabbed his enormous bag of cheeseburgers from the backseat. He carefully unwrapped a burger and passed it over to me, taking the time to wrap the paper around it so that I could hold the burger and not drip ketchup down my shirt as I drove. "Thanks," I said quietly.

Then he dug out a burger for himself. "Hey," he said around an enormous bite. He swallowed hastily. "Her BMW is white with a black bra and spoiler, right?"

"Yeah," my head snapped in the direction that he was looking. "I can't ... That might be it!" The headlights of a car in the parking lot illuminated what might be Keilana's car. But the light lasted only a couple of seconds and then it was gone. I swerved into a small, gravel lot that sat between a bar and a dance club. It was a paid lot, but the attendant, who had probably spent most of the evening locked in a tiny booth with a shotgun resting on his lap as he took money, was long gone by now.

The reflection of flashing neon from nearby signs off my wet windshield made it tough to see, but I was certain that the BMW was empty and that Keilana was nowhere in sight. I pulled up right behind what I thought was her car, and gave it another quick glance before I kept right on driving to the back of the parking lot.

There were no empty spots but I managed to fit my Mustang next to the last car in a row, though it meant two of my wheels were resting on the curb. Luckily, it was getting dark fast.

I killed the engine. "I tried, but I couldn't see whether the license plate matched."

"Christ, Belinda, how many white Beemers matching that description do you think are parked on the edge of The Devil's Belly? That's the one. Gotta be."

We both tossed our half-eaten burgers onto the dashboard. A tickle of excitement caused me to stop worrying about how I felt about Keilana and start focusing on why I was here.

"I'm gonna go check the plates just to be sure," I said.

Russ rolled his eyes. Then he nodded and pulled his baseball cap a little lower on his head. "I'll go check the plates. This the number?" He plucked a small, folded piece of paper from my ashtray.

I opened my mouth to protest and he held up a forestalling hand. "Let me," he said. "The girl—"

I glared at him.

"Errr ... I mean, Keilana, is already pissed at her parents. If she makes you, well, you already said it. It'll only make things worse. Not to mention the fact that it's bad to blow things with rich clients." He gave me a chagrined smile that made him look very much like a little boy. "I would know."

I let out an unhappy breath. "Russ—"

Just as he reached for the door handle his cell phone rang. Reluctantly, he dug it out of his pocket, then swallowed hard when he read the illuminated phone number of the caller.

"Go ahead answer it," I urged him. "The BMW will keep. I'm watching it. It's about time you and Sarah made up anyway."

"I don't know what to say to her."

The phone continued to ring.

I sighed. Men. "Answer it and apologize. I'll go check the plates."

"What if I make it worse?" The panic started in his eyes but spread to the rest of him in two seconds flat. "What if she starts to cry? What if—?"

"Just say you're sorry, for fuck's sake!" I grabbed his hands and pushed the phone toward his head. "Answer it. Answer it. Answer it!" If there is one thing I can't stand, it's a ringing phone.

"You talk to her!" And with that he pressed "talk" and thrust the phone in my hands, jumping out of the car before I could grab him.

"You pathetic, stinking coward," I hissed. "Come back ... umm ... hi, Sarah?"

"Is that you, Belinda?" she asked, sounding supremely annoyed.

I guess the plain fact is, nobody likes her husband being such close friends with another woman. Much less a former lover. Even though it worked for Russ and me, I knew it had to look a little unnatural to the rest of the world.

Sara grumbled, "Why isn't Russ, that big chicken, answering his own phone?"

"Huh?" I barely heard what she said. Every ounce of my attention was on Russ as he approached the white BMW. Then to my horror, as if I needed further confirmation of existence of Murphy's Law, I saw someone who looked dangerously like Keilana approaching the parking lot out of Russ's line of vision.

My eyes bugged out of my head. Another woman was with her and they were huddled under a single, large umbrella together. "Oh, fuck me!"

"What?"

"Huh?"

"What is going on, Belinda?" Sarah demanded.

"Russ is sorry he was such an asshole. Gotta go." I pressed a random button on the phone and threw it onto the backseat. Then I climbed into Russ's seat to watch the horror unfold. Russ was crouched down, reading the license plate and Keilana was approaching him from the back. He glanced around, but so much water was pouring off his baseball cap, I doubted he could see more than a few feet.

Keilana was carrying something. A big purse? No, a backpack. Why would she be carrying her backpack away from school? Then I looked closer and realized this wasn't her school backpack, which was bright yellow. This one was dark, black or maybe navy blue.

A few more steps and the other woman came into better focus. It was Billie. I groaned as I clumsily climbed over the front seats and fell head first into the back seat. Like an excited puppy going on a car ride, I all but pressed my face to the glass as I watched.

The women stopped walking for a moment and Keilana glanced up at Billie and stroked her cheek with the back of her hand. Furiously, I rubbed the fog from my window so I could get a better look at them. I had no idea what they were saying, but their body language told me all I needed to know. Ugh.

Another gust of wind shook the car, and I watched as a strong gust tore the paper out of Russ's hand, sending it into the gravel a few feet from him. It instantly stuck to the ground and he tried to peel it up with wet, clumsy fingers. "Get out of there, Russ!" I whispered to myself. "Get out!" He kept fiddling with the paper as Keilana and Billie got closer and closer. "Oh no."

He finally gave up on it and started looking inside the car. He tried the door, and I could see him futilely yanking on the handle. It was locked and he was focusing his attention there and not on his surroundings.

"Shit!" Quietly, I snuck out of my car, blinking the rain back when it poured down my face. I stayed low to the ground as I crept between the parked cars. I had to warn Russ or everything would be ruined. The warm rain plastered my hair to my forehead and my clothes stuck uncomfortably to my body after just a few seconds.

I made it to Russ just ahead of Keilana and Billie. "Go. Get out of here!" I whispered as loudly as I dared.

Russ glanced in the direction I was hiding, confused by the disembodied voice. "Who's there?" He looked harder into the shadows. "Belinda?"

I managed to squeeze out, "Run!" a split second before it was too late.

"That's my car," Keilana said to Russ. Her mouth sounded cottony dry and she and Billie stopped well back from him as Keilana appraised Russ warily.

Like night and day, there stood Billie. Her entire body vibrated. Coiled, she was more than ready for a confrontation. Simply put, she looked like a hellcat with PMS. I was too far away to see it before, but she was also sporting a white bandage on one cheek.

"Can I help you?" Keilana's voice quivered a little as she spoke, betraying her unease.

"Hi," Russ smiled and tried to stick his hands in his pocket, but his wet jeans had sucked themselves to his body and wouldn't cooperate. He ended up awkwardly hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and rocking back on his heels. "I don't need any help. But thanks. My ... uh ... best friend had his BMW stolen last week. We've been looking for it and I thought this might be it." He shrugged. "Guess I was wrong."

I nodded approvingly. A decent cover story.

Russ waggled his fingers at the women. He took a step forward. "Okay, I'll just be going now."

"You were trying to steal her car!" Billie accused, taking a menacing step forward. "You son of a bitch! I saw you looking inside the car and checking the doors. You were going to take it!"

"Billie," Keilana said worriedly, "for God's sake, he was leaving." She spoke through clenched teeth. "Let him go." She tried to restrain Billie without getting too close to Russ herself.

Good girl, I thought. She was smart to be cautious.

"You're mistaken," Russ said calmly. "I was just looking and since it's obviously not my friend's car, I'll be on my way." Once again, he started to walk away.

"Stay right here!" Billie ordered, blocking his path and holding her umbrella out like a sword.

Keilana shivered as the rain suddenly began pelting her.

Billie shook the umbrella at Russ. "I'm calling the cops." She pulled her cell phone from her pocket, and then cursed a blue streak when she discovered the battery was dead. In a fit of anger, she threw the phone to the ground, sending shards of plastic into a nearby puddle and against the BMW's bumper.

Even in the wan light, I could see the whites of Keilana's eyes grow. "Jesus, Billie. Calm down," she said. "The guy told us why he was checking out my car. What are you doing?" She put a calming hand on Billie's shoulder. "Let him leave."

Billie's face twisted in rage. "No way." Her eyes drilled holes in Russ as rivulets of water dripped from her chin and cheeks. Her bandage was soaked now and dark with what I guessed was re-hydrating blood. "I'm sick of you bastards making it impossible to park here. I can't stand it!"

Then something inside Billie seemed to snap and she swung her umbrella at Russ over and over, connecting with a few powerful swipes. "You thieving asshole!" Another hit. "You think you can do anything you want?" Smack on the shoulder. "You think you can treat women this way?"

I winced as a particularly vicious blow landed on the top of his head. This really wasn't Russ's day.

"Billie!" Keilana screamed and tried to pull her friend off Russ, who was covering his head with his arms and hands and yelling for Billie to stop.

My hands balled into fists and released. My heart thudding loudly, I pressed my back against the quarter panel of an old Chevy truck, torn. I wanted to help Russ, but that would shoot my cover to hell. Still, he was my best friend. Crap, I whispered internally. I drew in a deep breath to stand and make my presence known when Billie tossed her umbrella aside, reached inside her purse, and pulled out small pistol.

She pointed it right at Russ.

I swear to God I almost had a heart attack. I actually felt my chest seize up. Time stood still and for a fraction of a minute, everyone just stared at each other in shock and horror.

Billie seemed to be just as surprised as everyone else.

I glanced out at the street and although I could see people walking by, I realized that the streetlights were too far away for us to be visible to them.

"Holy shit!" Russ exclaimed, snapping out of his trance. "You're cr-cr-crazy!"

"Don't even think about going anywhere," Billie panted, waving the gun erratically. "Don't even think it!"

Russ, for once in his life, obeyed without comment. He held his hands up as though he was being robbed.

"Okay," Billie handed the gun to a stunned Keilana. "I'm going to that club"—she jerked her head sideways—"to call the cops. You watch him." She sneered in Russ's direction. "Shoot him if he tries to move, all right?"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Why did Billie have to get Keilana more involved in this than she already was? But I felt a tiny measure of relief in the belief that Russ would be safer with Keilana holding the gun than Billie.

Still, Russ had to be peeing in his pants because I was fighting the urge myself.

"Okay," Keilana said evenly, her voice eerily calm. "I'll watch him."

A shiver chased its way down my spine and I wondered if I'd made a colossal miscalculation about Russ's chances with Keilana.

"You go call the police," she continued, coolly. "I think there is a pay phone in the very back by the ladies' room."

Billie flipped Russ the bird and took off toward the dance club.

I looked skyward in appeal. Please don't let her shoot me or Russ. Once again I was about to stand when Keilana's shoulders sagged dramatically and she moaned.

I froze.

She was soaked to the bone and she shuddered a little, even though the rain was warm. "I can't believe this night. I'm so sorry," she promised Russ. "My friend has had a horrible time of it. Some guy pawed her and hurt her pretty badly. I think she's in shock. She's not normally like this."

I don't know if Russ even heard what Keilana was saying. His eyes were trained on the gun in her hands. Keilana saw where he was looking and promptly turned the gun on herself, holding it by the barrel and pointing it at her own chest.

My eyes turned to saucers and for the second time tonight my heart felt like it was going to implode. Was she insane? What was she doing carrying a loaded gun like that?

Keilana smiled reassuringly. "Don't be afraid. It's not a real gun. It's just a very convincing toy. Billie keeps it to scare off the jerks, but she'd never really hurt anyone. See?" She pulled the trigger and both Russ and I both jerked at the movement and muted click.

But there was no gunshot and Keilana was still standing there.

I was so lightheaded with relief that I had to sit back on my heels and breathe deeply to keep from keeling over. For what had to be a full minute, stars danced in front of my eyes, tiny pinpoints of light on a sea of black velvet.

Salt stung my tongue and lips as the rain washed the sweat from my face.

But Russ still looked suspicious of Keilana. God, what more did he want her to do?

Keilana took a step closer to him, approaching him slowly, the way you would a skittish colt ... or someone your friend just beat with an umbrella and then threatened to shoot. "Are you okay?"

Her voice was soothing and warm and I could see Russ's body relax as he unconsciously responded to it. "She didn't hurt you with her umbrella, did she? God, I'm sorry. If she hurt you I can call a doctor or take you to the emergency room. Or—"

"No," Russ interrupted, lowering hands that were still shaking. I think he was finally gathering his wits and, to his credit, he didn't look like he was going to have a stroke anymore.

I was going to be buying him hamburgers for the next hundred years and he wasn't even going to have to ask.

"She scared about ten"—he chuckled somewhat frantically—"no, make that twenty years off my life, but I think I'm okay." He let out a ragged breath and nodded a few times, as if reassuring himself that what he'd just said was true.

"Thank goodness." Keilana's relief was just as evident. "You'd better get going then. I don't care if you were trying to steal my car, you've been through enough tonight."

"But I wasn't—"

Keilana shook her head. "It doesn't matter." She made a shooing motion. "Go before she gets back. And again, I'm really, really sorry." She stepped aside giving Russ a wide berth.

He didn't hesitate; he bolted out of the parking lot faster than I've ever seen him move, and in seconds, the street swallowed him up.

Keilana watched him go, then leaned against the trunk of her car and let her backpack drop gently to the ground. I knew I should be more curious about what was inside it. It was out of place here in The Devil's Belly, and in a case that sorely lacked clues, it was calling to me ... loudly. But even so, all I could really think about was her.

She lifted her face skyward and let the rain pound against it and after a moment she smoothed her long, dark hair back from her face. Her eyes were closed tight, her mouth open, and her throat working as she slowly drank in the water.

The sight was surprisingly erotic and I watched her for a long moment, holding my breath, my heart pounding the entire time.

She scrubbed her face with both hands and I wasn't sure whether she was washing away tears, nervous sweat, or just the incredible stress of the moment. But it seemed to work because it wasn't long before she repositioned herself into a slightly more relaxed stance.

The flashing neon lights made her normally pale skin glow an almost iridescent white, and for the first time tonight the frenzied strains of hard rock music coming from one of clubs eased its way into my consciousness.

Keilana looked almost otherworldly and I felt myself being drawn closer to her as if by magic. If I reached out, I could almost ... almost touch her.

With a soft sigh, she focused on the toy gun in her hands, flipping it over few times as if deciding what to do. I was a little surprised when she dropped it to the ground and gave it a good stomp.

I heard the plastic crack just before Keilana kicked the gun and sent it sliding over the gravel and under a nearby van. I guess she was already too wet to bother coming in out of the rain or picking up the umbrella, so she just sat there on the trunk of her car, her arms wrapped around herself in mute comfort as she waited.

Billie was going to be livid, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

With every fiber of my being I longed to pull Keilana into a fierce embrace. I'd never felt anything as strong in my life and I honestly wasn't sure that I could clamp down on my desire to wrap her in my arms. I was so proud of how she'd handled things and how she'd been kind to Russ, even when she figured him for a thief.

I wanted to press my lips to her wet hair and murmur the sort of things you hear in mushy love songs that make you want to roll your eyes and burst out laughing. I craved the feeling of her warm body against mine and longed to gently stroke her back.

Now that I thought of it, selling my soul seemed like more than a fair price if that's what it took to make her smile again.

And in that instant I knew. Shaken, I plopped down onto the gravel, not even feeling the water I was sitting in. I didn't have a crush of Keilana Poppenhouse. Oh, man, it was so much worse than that.

I was falling in love with her.

Oh, boy.

When I'm right, I'm right. Billie was pissed when she got back to the car. It seems the police had declined her demand to come arrest someone for looking at Keilana's car, and now, not only had Keilana let the would-be thief escape, but she'd somehow lost Billie's fake gun in the process. Poor Billie.

The women argued vehemently for a few minutes, then, much to my disgust, the fuss ended with Billie bursting into tears and Keilana comforting her with a compassionate hug that went on far too long.

Sometime during the evil embrace, I retreated to the safety of my Mustang, determined not to lose them or the black backpack that Keilana had put into her trunk before leaving. Russ, I told myself, would want me to stick with the case no matter what. And more importantly, I wanted some answers and I was tired of waiting to get them.

I actually had to work hard to keep up with Keilana as she and Billie raced down the wet city streets. My mood had turned brighter and even the rain had shifted from a series of fitful downpours to a gentle sprinkle. Everyone I cared about was okay and even though I couldn't have gotten wetter if I jumped into a swimming pool, the chase was on again.

For the moment, life was good.

I was about three cars behind Keilana at a traffic light and had just taken a big bite of my wilted cheeseburger when Russ's cell phone rang. I decided it was fate that I wouldn't get any dinner tonight and I tossed my burger into the passenger seat. It took some wrangling, but I was able to grab the phone from the back seat before traffic began moving again.

I pressed it to my ear, not needing to look to know who was calling. "Hello, Russ, you unlucky bastard."

"That bitch was crazy!"

"I can't disagree with that." I merged on the 5.

"Did you see what she did?"

"I was only about five feet away from the whole thing, Russ. Of course I saw it." I felt a pang of worry. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said dismissively. "Did you see the backpack?"

I chuckled. "You're like a dog who's been teased with a whiff of a juicy bone."

"And just what are you doing at this very moment?"

I smiled. "Chasing the bone."

"Atta girl. Let me know what you find. I mean it. Don't make me wait too long."

"Will do, Russ. Take a cab back to my place and I'll pay you back for the fare, okay?"

"Don't lose them."

My smile turned feral. "Never."

About fifteen more minutes and Keilana and Billie pulled into the driveway of a surprisingly nice, if tiny, bungalow. Billie's house? I slowly drove past them, then killed my headlights and parked on the street a few houses away.

"Nooo!" I moaned. Keilana was digging in her trunk. "Not the backpack."

More digging.

"Not the backpack."

Keilana shut her truck and she and Billie headed toward the house.

"Oooooh." I sighed. "There goes the backpack." Well, at least I wouldn't be rooting around our campus cottage for it or picking the lock of Keilana's BMW. I'd be breaking in to that red-haired bitch's house, instead.

The more I thought about that... the more I liked it.

I decided not to bother stewing outside of Billy's house, in the pathetic hope that Keilana wouldn't decide to stay the night. So I drove back to campus, deep in thought. So much had happened so quickly that my head was still spinning.

It was well after two a.m. by the time I heard Keilana's key slide into the cottage door.

I looked up from the television program I'd been half-watching and tried to pretend not to be relieved to see her. "Hi." She wasn't, of course, carrying the backpack. I couldn't be that lucky.

She smiled weakly at me. "Hi." Then she glanced up at the clock and frowned. "You weren't waiting up for me, were you?" She tossed her keys on a small table near the door. "Didn't you get my note?"

"I got it. I wasn't waiting up for you. I was just watching ... um ..."—I glanced at the TV to see what was on and could only sigh—"an infomercial on Viagra for women." Fuck.

She shook her head and laughed softly. She walked into the bedroom, but continued talking, the words floating over the half wall that separated the two rooms. "What did you do tonight?"

I saw her blouse hit the floor and turned my head. Temptation, thy name is Keilana. "Not much. I met a friend and we drove around San Diego. You?"

There was a long pause.

"You remember my friend Billie?" she finally asked in a quiet voice.

My eyes turned to slits. "Yeah. I remember her."

"We spent the evening together."

"Are you sleeping with her?" I wanted to slap my hand over my mouth. Why, oh why, had I said that out loud?

Keilana poked her head into the living room and looked at me with wide eyes. "What?"

"Uhh ..." It was too late to suck the words back in now. Relentlessly, I picked the sofa, focusing on one teeny spot. "Is she, you know"—I glanced up, sure I looked as foolish as I felt—"your girlfriend?"

Keilana disappeared behind the wall again only to re-emerge a few seconds later wearing an oversized t-shirt and soft cotton boxers that were at least two sizes too big. Why did she always have to look so adorable?

She gave me a look I couldn't decipher. "I'm surprised you asked about Billie. You've made it clear that there can never be anything between you and me." She shrugged one shoulder. "Well, other than friendship." Then she cocked her head to the side like an interested puppy. "Have you changed your mind about that?" There was hopeful lilt to her voice that tempted me like few things in my life had. God was cruel.

"I ... no." It felt like someone was sitting on my chest. "Keilana, we can't ..." Christ, I wanted to die.

She let out a deep breath and joined me on the sofa, but didn't sit too close. "What does that mean? We can't?"

I turned to her and prayed that my heart wasn't showing in every line of my face. "I think you know what it means."

She gave me a small, slightly guilty smile. "You can't blame me for trying."

I began to fidget. I had to change the subject or I was going to lean over and kiss her senseless. "Billie seemed interested in you. I, well, I just wondered if the feeling was mutual?"

She rested her head on the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. "I don't think that's any of your business. In fact, you know, Cadie, I don't think this is how friendship is supposed to go."

I blinked. "Whaddya mean?"

Keilana frowned, but kept her eyes closed. "You're always asking about me, but never telling me about you. Granted, I'm not used to the interest because most people hate me, but—"

"They do not!"

She merely raised an eyebrow at me. "Most people might hate me," she continued blithely, "but I'm pretty sure that real friends know stuff about each other."

"You know"—I waved my hands in the air—"stuff about me." Scintillating comebacks under pressure are my specialty.

"Nothing that matters," she disagreed pointedly.

She was right. God, I hated it when she was right. "Fine, you can ask me something about myself and then it's my turn. Deal?"

She made a sour face. "Just one question?"

There was a hint of challenge in her voice and I found myself unable to resist the bait. "How about three?"

One of her dark eyebrows edged upward again and it was all I could do not to reach out and run my fingertip over it. She hummed a little to herself. "Hmm ... And I can ask anything?"

I swallowed, a million things I did not want her to ask me running through my mind. "Anything."

"In that case I need a minute to think."

I rolled my eyes.

She turned sideways and tucked her feet underneath her. Then she proceeded to take her time about deciding what to say.

My nerves ratcheted up with every passing second, and yet I was surprised to find myself eager to share something about the real me. Even if it was only something small, a tiny bit of reality to assuage my guilt so that I could look her in the eye tomorrow—I sighed inwardly—just before I would work on another snitch report to her parents.

"Okay, is the reason you won't kiss me because you're interested in someone else?"

Whoa. That's not what I expected her to ask. "I ... no. There's no one else. There hasn't been anyone serious in my life for several years now."

"Wow. Years?" she mouthed silently, looking concerned.

Oops. I forgot that I was supposed to be twenty-one years old. I hadn't lived long enough to have too much emotional baggage. I smiled wryly. "Well, maybe it just seems like years. I work too much. Or at least I did before this fall. And I'm alone too much. I surf too much." God, I was starting to depress myself! "And none of those things are very conducive to finding someone special."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously but she didn't say anything.

I licked my lips. "My turn yet?"

She gave me a reluctant nod. "Umm ... I guess."

"Good." I clapped my hands together, not bothering to hide my excitement. I had carte blanche, a nosy person's dream. But that didn't mean I could jump right in with both feet. No, I still had to be careful. If I aroused too much suspicion now, I would just be shooting myself in the foot for later. I nearly asked about Billie, but I decided to try to throw her off guard with another topic completely. "Why does Shauna hate you so much?"

Keilana didn't even hesitate. "Because sophomore year I had an affair with her roommate, who also happens to be her twin sister, and everyone found out about it."

I winced as I thought of this tiny school with all its gossipy cliques. "Oh, man. That sucks." No wonder she was a leper to Shauna and her friends. She'd violated a cardinal rule among the popular girls. She'd done something that showed plainly she wasn't a clone of the other girls. Well, that and eaten pussy.

Tiredly, she rubbed her eyes. "It was the one time I didn't look before I leapt and I've been paying for it ever since. I thought ..." Her jaw worked for a few seconds, but no sound came out. "I was stupid. I thought things would be different on the mainland. And they were. But just not different enough. Everyone has an agenda."

My heart sank.

"And after a while I stopped trying to convince people that I wasn't some sort of deviant predator and just let them think what they want about me."

"Predator?" That seemed a bit harsh. "You're no predator. I've been here for weeks now and I'm still the virgin I was when I got here."

She snorted softly and her mouth shaped a weak grin.

I scooted a little closer and bumped my arm against hers. "So Shauna blames you for her sister's wicked walk on the lesbian wild side, huh?"

"Of course." She mimicked Shauna's voice perfectly. "There aren't any dykes in the very distinguished Brewster family."

I couldn't help but snicker.

In her normal voice she grumbled, "I am a seducer of innocent women, after all. And to hear Shauna tell it, not even the nuns are safe around me."

I wasn't sure that if Keilana really turned on the sex appeal that anyone would be safe. I know I wasn't. The hard part to believe, though, was that she didn't seem to have a sense of how compelling she could be and how much power that gave her. At first I thought her apparent naiveté in this area was some sort of trick. But it wasn't. It was just Keilana.

"It was Shauna's sister, Misty, who seduced me, not the other way around." Her face took on a look that was a combination of anger, hurt, and embarrassment. "And it wasn't even me she was interested in. She wanted a job at the Poppenhouse Cookie headquarters in Honolulu and thought that she could convince me to sweet-talk Daddy into giving her a one-way ticket to her paradise."

My eyebrows rose further. "That's really lousy, Keilana. I'm sorry."

She forced a shrug and looked away. "I lived."

"You sure did. But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt."

She glanced back at me, her eyes holding no secrets and alive with panic. My stomach did a back flip. She needed comfort. She needed a real friend to lean on and tell her that everyone didn't use everyone else, someone she could count on no matter what.

In short, I was the absolute last thing she needed.

"So …" I lightened my voice and did my best not to give into my sudden urge to cry. "Did Shauna's sister get her ticket?"

She looked a little surprised by my question but she began to relax. After thirty seconds or so, the corner of her mouth quirked. "Oh, yeah, she got her ticket punched." Her smile broadened. "And so did I."

Our eyes met and we both dissolved into unexpected laughter over the Keilana's suggestive tone. While she didn't seem to really be upset, there was just the barest hint of poorly-veiled hurt in her smile.

"Well," she said, sighing, suddenly aware at how closely I was watching her. "You sure picked weird questions." An evil twinkle invaded her eyes. "I still have two questions left, but I'm going to save them for when I'm not beat." She yawned.

My eyes saucered and my butt began to levitate off the couch. "That wasn't three questions! That was ..." Then I mentally replayed our conversation and wished I could kick my own ass. "You tricked me, Newman."

Her brows contracted. "Why do you call me that sometimes?"

I covered my face with my hands, and cursed at how easily I'd gotten caught up in our conversation.

"And how did I trick you?" she asked in a voice so reasonable that I wanted to scream. She was teasing me and I knew it.

I glanced up and couldn't help it, I did something I hadn't done since I was six years old. I actually began to pout.

She smiled warmly and reached out very slowly to cup my cheek. I could have moved away. She made sure to give me plenty of time to escape. But I didn't. I wanted her touch as much as I'd wanted anything in my life and I bit back a gasp at the unexpected warmth of long fingers. It was the first time she'd touched me since my ill-fated French lesson that had left me hungry for her for days. My belly twisted all over again with the familiar craving.

"Thanks for making me laugh, Cadie." Her voice was as rich and sweet as honey and I felt it seep into my bones as she spoke. She stroked my check with her thumb. "Up until a few minutes ago, tonight had really sucked."

My tongue refused to work and all I could do was smile back.

She gave my cheek a final pat. "I'm going to take a quick shower to get the smoke out of my hair. I ..." Her eyes dropped to the small space between us. "It ..." She scrunched up her face, smiling just a little. "This is sort of hard. Okay, I just wanted to say that it felt good to tell someone about Misty. I never have." She glanced up, suddenly shy. "Thanks."

And then she was gone.

I sat there staring at the closed bathroom door, wondering how things had gotten away from me so easily. I nearly tripped over the ottoman as I ran to the bathroom. I banged loudly on the bathroom door, hearing a startled, disembodied, "yeah?"

"Will you go to the beach and hang out with me tomorrow? I want to show you something that's really important to me. Please." I held my breath as I waited for her to shoot me down.

Finally, I heard what I was sure was a sigh. "Just the two of us?"

I exhaled, beaming a smile at the door. "Yeah, just us."

"Promise you won't laugh at me?"

Laugh at her? Who would be that rude? "Hell no. I'll take the first opportunity I can to laugh at you."

Playfully, Keilana growled through the bathroom door. "I knew you were going to say that." She opened the door and stuck her head out just far enough that I could see smooth skin, naked shoulders and endless back. I bit back a whimper.

She looked at me with eyes so beautiful and trusting that they broke my heart. "When do we leave?"

I jammed the end of my board into the sand and laughed as Keilana tried unsuccessfully to do the same thing with my spare board. "Here," I took the board from her and rammed it into the ground.

She frowned.

"Don't worry," I said with a smile. "It's not as easy as it looks."

We couldn't very well go to my usual haunt, Huntington Beach. I didn't want someone to call me Belinda in front of Keilana. So we headed to Del Mar. The surfing wasn't as good here, but surfing was a lot like sex. Even when it was bad, it was still better than just about anything else you could do. Besides, this area held a special place in my heart and as silly as it sounded, I wanted to bring Keilana.

We walked a little north of the public beach and found a fairly secluded spot below the low, rocky cliffs at our back.

Keilana tilted her face skyward and spread her arms out wide. "It's still nighttime! What are we doing here at night?"

I blinked. "You haven't been to the beach at sunrise?" How did someone get to be twenty-one years old and never one experience one of the most beautiful sights on the planet?

"There is no sun yet. And"—she shook her head—"well, our main house wasn't right on the water, just the guest quarters."

Oh, that made this even better. A puppy with two peters couldn't have been happier than I was at this moment. "This is the best time to be here!"

She gave me a skeptical look, her eyes a deep shade of violet in the gray, pre-dawn light.

I nudged her gently with my shoulder. "It's magic. You'll see."

Keilana looked around before spreading out a large beach blanket. I bent to help her, sneaking glances at her as we worked. She looked cute in her linen shorts and neatly pressed shirt and I couldn't help but look forward to seeing her in the swimsuit I knew she wore underneath. I was already in my shortie wetsuit and a thin black rash guard. We kicked off our shoes and sat down on the blanket.

It was going to be hot today and a balmy breeze tossed my hair around my face as I threw my feet off the edge of the blanket and dug my heels into the cool sand. The wet, lush smell of the water and vegetation was overwhelming and the salt from the spray stung the back of my tongue. Heaven.

Keilana leaned back on her hands. "Is it always this quiet here?" Only the sound of the surf punctuated her words. We couldn't see or hear another living soul. "Are you sure we're still in Southern California?"

"Ahh ... I'm sure. No screaming kids. No obnoxious punk teenagers. Why do you think I come so early?" I wrinkled my nose. "Later in the day it won't be like this."

She gave me a wry smile. "You, Cadie Blaisdell, are no more a people person than I am."

I gasped in mock horror, clutching my chest. "I'm not that terrible, am I?"

"Ha. Ha." She slapped my arm. "You're not at all shy and you have confidence to burn. So why do you look like you're going to throw up whenever any professor addresses you in class?"

I cringed. "There's a completely logical reason for that look."

"There is?"

"Of course. But it will cost you the second of your three questions to get the answer, Newman."

She bit her bottom lip. "You're still sore about that, huh?"

I merely smiled sweetly, holding her gaze.

She thought for a second. "No deal. I want to know something better than that."

I sighed. Except for Clue, which I still love to play, I've always sucked at games. This was no exception. Keilana, however, seemed to be the type that somehow managed to own Park Place and Boardwalk after only three turns, sending everyone else into the flames of pretend financial ruin.

Suddenly the shadows of Keilana's face looked just a little lighter. A hint of pink and yellow began to invade the atmosphere and I pressed the button to the light on my watch, then looked up at the brightening sky. A big grin split my face. "Okay, pay attention now."

Her eyebrows disappeared behind windblown bangs. "To what?"

"To everything." Just as I said the words, splashes of golden light shot across the water, illuminating the sea and its rolling waves in a divine glow, and the mist from dancing surf began to glitter like millions of radiant crystals infused with light.

"Wow," she breathed reverently, her eyes round. "It's beautiful."

I nodded, my focus trained on a world that was coming to life before my eyes. A sense of utter peace invaded me and I felt more centered than I had in weeks. "My dad used to take me to the beach every Saturday when I was a kid. It was our special time together. He was the one who taught me to surf."

"I ..." Keilana's face took on a faraway expression. "I have no idea what that must have felt like. I'll bet that was nice though."

I swallowed thickly, hurting for everything she'd clearly missed growing up and feeling my simmering anger toward her parents begin to bubble over. My hands shaped weak fists and I had to force myself to speak in a normal tone of voice. "It was nice. My dad worked all the time, but Saturday mornings were ours and it always made me feel special."

I vowed on the spot to phone my folks on Sunday. We hadn't spoken in well over a month and there was no reason for it other than we were all too caught up in our own lives to bother picking up the phone. As much as I hated to admit it, complacency was a two-way street.

More light poured down on the water, transforming it from an inky black, to a steel gray and finally a deep sapphire. In the distance, a small flock of birds came into view and they began swooping down to the sea in search of breakfast.

This time and place was important to me, and I wanted Keilana to understand that. It didn't matter that at any moment I would disappear from her life. What mattered was now ... this very second. "You know, for about five minutes every time I see the sun rise over the water, I'm certain there is a God. It just doesn't seem right that something so breathtaking could be an accident." I stretched out on the blanket, feeling the coolness of the sand soak through into my back. "The rest of the time, I'm not so sure." How's that for knowing something personal, Keilana? That's the real me.

She turned her head and flashed me blinding smile. "Thanks for showing me this. You were right. It does seem sort of magic."

"I knew you'd think so too." I let out a satisfied breath and crossed my legs at the ankle. I looked up and lost myself in the endless sky. It wasn't nearly as blue as her eyes. It should be jealous. I turned my head. "This isn't all I want to show you."

She suddenly looked a little nervous. "It's not?"

I was too excited to sit still any longer "Nope." I jumped to my feet and offered her a hand up. "Let's paddle out and watch the sun coming up from the other direction. We can ride the surf in. You'll love it!"

She gulped so loud it had to be painful, but she reached for my extended hand.

I gripped her hand firmly. "It's easy," I promised, trying to erase the look on her face that had gone from nervous to outright fear in a blink of an eye. "You don't need to stand up on the board or anything. Just float and paddle. I'll show you how."

Stricken, she glanced back at the water, then at me.

Confused, I gentled my voice. "What is it?"

She kicked petulantly at the sand. "You'll laugh."

"Keilana"—I looked her dead in the eyes— "I won't." But she still didn't want to give it up. I squeezed her hand briefly before letting it go. Then I put my hands on my hips. "Okay, I'll start guessing if that's how you want it. You're allergic to salt water?"

No answer.

"No, huh? Okay, afraid of killer seals or floating debris from a passing cruise ship?"

A tiny smile appeared. "No. Not really."

"Worried about stepping on a fish hook?" I gestured toward the duffle bag I'd brought. "I have an extra pair of water shoes you can borrow."

She groaned a little, her hands twitching nervously. "It's not that simple, Cadie."

"Then what? Seaweed? Fish? Sharks?"

Her eyes popped wide open. "There are sharks here?" she screeched, scrambling back to the very edge of the blanket. Her head began moving like a bobblehead Jesus glued to the dashboard of a fast moving car. "Where? Where?"

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. "They can't get you on land, you know."

She sensed my struggle not to chuckle and she stuck her tongue out at me in response. "It's not sharks. Though if we see any, I am leaving and you won't be able to stop me."

I nodded. "Don't worry, if we bump into any sharks, I'll be swimming so fast for shore all you'll see is my wake. So what's the problem?"

"That's the problem." She lowered her voice as if someone might hear her horrible confession. "You'll be swimming. I won't. I can't swim."

I just stared.

She pointed an accusing finger at me, her face turning pink with shame. "You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"I-I-I-" I love it when I sputter like a stalled engine. "Who's laughing?"

She let her hand drop and grumbled, "You can if you want."

I sat back down on the blanket. There would be no surfing today, but suddenly I didn't mind that so much. "Okay," I began slowly. "So we have to change our plans. That's no big deal. Lots of people can't swim." I didn't know any of them, of course. But I'm sure they're out there ... in Alaska or North Dakota or someplace.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." She turned dismayed eyes out to the water. "We wouldn't have had to drive all the way here. But you wanted to come and I wanted to come with you and ... Well, it's just embarrassing and—"

"Whoa." I held up my hand to stop her rambling. "We're not leaving."

Her head snapped back and her jaw sagged a little. "We're not?"

"Of course not. I can teach you how to swim," I said gamely, only barely resisting the urge to tuck a strand of gently blowing hair behind Keilana's ear. The desire to touch her was getting stronger and stronger and I was growing less and less inclined to fight it. "It's easy. I was swimming before I was walking. If a little baby can do it, how hard could it be?"

She closed her eyes briefly, warring with herself.

I waited, wanting to push her but knowing it could damage our fragile relationship if I did.

"Fine," she finally said, her voice an octave higher than normal. She wasn't kidding. She was terrified.

Guilt assailed me. "Keilana—"

"I'm okay, really." She stripped off her shirt and shorts in record time and stood before me in just her bikini. Her string bikini. She pointed toward my bag. "Can I really borrow those shoes? I think my feet are bigger than yours."

My eyes drank her in and my mouth went bone dry.

She was wearing a sexy little belly button ring that I'd never seen before and the sight of it sent a skitter of unexpected excitement down my spine. Keilana didn't resemble your average Southern California Barbie Doll, which was more than fine by me. For one thing, her breasts were the perfect size, lovely and very real. And then there were her legs. They went on for days. Months maybe.

My heart beat a little faster as I took in her fair skin; it glowed in the morning light, looking as soft and inviting as warm silk. A scattering of a few freckles dotted her upper chest and torso and formed a random pattern down her long lean waist. She took my breath away.

God, I hadn't ever had it this bad!

Keilana glanced down at herself and crossed her arms in front of her. "Something wrong?"

"Hardly." I didn't bother to hide my appreciation as I pointed at her naval. Then I wriggled my eyebrows. "Is that new?"

She moaned a little and nodded. "It was Billie's idea and I wanted to cheer her up so I let her talk me into it. It hurts like a bitch!"

I laid a hand over my own bellybutton in empathy. "Well, it looks good." I grinned. "But you look great." More than great, actually. Please don't let that moisture on the corner of my mouth be drool.

"I've ... um ... put on a few pounds in the past couple of weeks." She laid a hand on her flat stomach, careful to avoid her naval, and smiled tentatively. "I think it's helped."

Dismayed, I moved closer to her. There wasn't a lot I could do for Keilana, but I could do this one small thing. I needed to. She knew that other people found her attractive, but somehow she didn't seem to believe it was true deep down inside. "Keilana, I didn't say that because of a few pounds or a little piece of jewelry. You're beautiful. Don't let some crazy idea your father has make you think differently."

"You're right." Her smile grew and I was delighted when she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and said, "Thank you, Cadie. That means ..." She shook her head a little. "Just thanks."

I did a little happy dance inside, feeling a joy all out of proportion with what I'd done. "You're welcome."

Our eyes met and held and the chemistry we shared flared to life, nearly blinding me. My belly tightened and I tried to think of something other than kissing her. Anything.

I glanced out at the ocean. "Now, how about learning something new? I won't let you drown. You'll be amazed at how simple it is. C'mon," I coaxed gently, seeing her reluctance return with a vengeance.

She gave me a direct look and said, "I'm afraid to put my face in the water or go in any deeper than my knees."

I unzipped my wetsuit. Okay, so teaching her to swim wouldn't be simple. But since when did that stop me?

It took several hours and a dozen aborted attempts, but eventually, we were both standing in chest-deep water. The waves pushed us around a bit, but Keilana was doing her best to keep her footing and not let her fear get the better of her.

Her dark hair was slicked back, wet from several tumbles in the surf. She had some sand on her cheek and water droplets glistened on her chest and chin. "This isn't s-so bad," she stuttered.

I wasn't sure if the statement was meant to convince me or herself.

"You're doing great," I praised, really meaning it. Fear wasn't an easy thing to conquer and Keilana was doing her best to hold her own, despite flashes where it looked as though she might bolt at any minute.

My eyes roamed over her affectionately and I wondered when I'd turned into such a ball of useless mush. I hadn't thought of the case all day. Instead, I'd just enjoyed playing and laughing with this complex, interesting person who was standing in front of me and counting on me to keep her safe.

Keilana's shoulders were starting to turn pink and I gave in to the irresistible impulse to reach out and graze the soft skin with the tips of my fingers. "You need some more sunblock. Are you chilly?"

She shook her head. "I was earlier, but the sun is really hot now."

"The water feels great, doesn't it?" I was wearing just my rash guard and some swimsuit bottoms. I loved the feeling of the water against my skin.

She scraped her tongue against the roof of her mouth, making a face. "But it doesn't taste so hot."

"You're not supposed to drink it," I said wryly.

"I can't help it. I—Whoa!" A big wave shoved us violently toward shore. Keilana screamed and wrapped her arms around my neck as we surged forward.

"Put your feet down. You need to let me go!" I yelled, trying to pry her hands from me, knowing what was coming next. But she was too frightened to do more than grasp me in an iron grip far more powerful than anyone would have guessed she could muster. I coughed, stupidly swallowing a mouthful of salty water myself as I tried to dig my heels in sand. But it was no use. I was off balance and when the tide moved back out, the surge of water swept us both off our feet yanking us backward into water well over our heads.

Keilana panicked, her arms and legs flailing as she wrapped herself around me. "Cadie!" she half-screamed, half-sputtered, in a high-pitched voice that sent a rush of adrenaline tearing through me. Before I could react, we both were dragged beneath water and it took every ounce of my will power not to panic myself and violently force Keilana off of me. I'd been in this situation dozens of times myself, but I'd never had anything but the ocean itself pulling me down.

I circled my arms around Keilana and squeezed hard, quelling some of her desperate flailing, then pushed off the bottom, sending both our heads blasting out of the surf. I opened my eyes to the bright blue sky and we both sucked in deep breaths of air. She began coughing and wildly thrashing as she fought to keep from going under.

"Stop." I pushed her slightly away from me. "Stop!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, and for a split second she froze. I grasped onto her arms and kicked only a few feet toward shore. "It's okay." I let out a shaky breath. "We can stand here, put your feet down."

She coughed a few more times and spat out what had to be a full mouth of seawater. Her face and neck were flushed, then she noticed that we were only a few paces from where we'd been playing all morning. Her cheeks grew even redder. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"S'okay." I searched out her eyes when she dropped her gaze from mine. "I should have taught you what to do if that happens right off. That's my fault, not yours." And it really was. I'd been too busy having fun to notice that the waves had gotten progressively rougher. "Let's head back to our blanket and just relax for a while."

Her feet seemed to be rooted in the sand and the face that had been pink only a few seconds ago, now looked a little pale. Her fear was hitting home.

I felt horrible. "Are you okay?"

She licked her lips and nodded, doing her best to smile though her chin was trembling. "I'm okay."

I stepped forward and laid my palms on the sides of her face, stroking her cheekbones with my thumbs and glancing up into her eyes. They were vivid, tinged with anxiety and something else.

Neither one of us said anything, but everything about Keilana communicated volumes. I could see her pulse began to pound through the pale skin of her neck and knew her thoughts mirrored mine.

She trailed the backs of her fingers up my throat and over my chin, finally tangling them in my hair as she tugged me closer. "Cadie," she whispered breathily.

My gaze dropped to her lips, full and inviting, and I couldn't stop myself. I didn't want to stop myself. I leaned forward and kissed her, letting my mouth linger and losing myself in the utter sweetness of the moment.

Her hand tightened in my hair and she let out a moan that set my senses ablaze. I deepened the kiss, swirling my tongue around hers, tasting her, and feeling my nipples grow painfully, deliciously hard. We moved forward until our bodies were sliding tightly together all along their lengths. Heat exploded within me and chased away the chill of the water. Her skin was as soft as I'd remembered.

Keilana tenderly traced each of my lips with her tongue, giving the lower lip a gentle suck before kissing me hungrily. It was too much. My control snapped completely, and moaning with abandon, we began to devour each other the way I'd dreamt of doing for weeks.

"Whoo-hoo! Yeah, ladies! Can we play too?"

We were wrenched out of the moment by a couple of young guys carrying boogie boards, their dogs running up and down the beach. The men began to clap and hoot at us and regretfully I pulled away from Keilana. My senses were still reeling as I turned to face the assholes that had spoiled the perfect moment. "Show's over, you pubescent sons of bitches!" I growled, wanting to grab their snickering faces and hold them underwater.

The men hollered and laughed as they moved on up the beach.

They'd broken the spell I was under and the magnitude of what I'd just done crashed over me, more ferocious than any wave I've ever experienced. I'd started something I couldn't finish.

Keilana hadn't moved an inch. She was watching me intently, an utterly open look on her face. I swallowed hard unable to meet her eyes. Oh, God. "Keil—" I had to swallow again before I could finish her name. "Keilana ..." I dared to glance up. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I hoped she could see my honest anguish. "I shouldn't have kissed you."

She blinked slowly, looking as though she wasn't processing what I was saying. "What? What did you just say?"

"Jesus, I'm sorry." I reached out for her arm but she jerked it way. "I'm so sorry. We can't. We—"

Her beautiful face had turned to stone before my eyes. "We can't be that to each other, right? Am I just some big game to you? Someone whose feelings you can screw around with for fun?"

"No!" I scrubbed my wet hair. "You're not a game. This is real." I closed my eyes and paused before ruthlessly adding, "But—"

"But kissing me was some horrible mistake," she ground out, saying the words before I could and stabbing me in the chest with every single one of them.

Tears welled in her eyes and I couldn't bear it.

Just then another wave pushed her forward a few paces from me and she went with it, practically running back to shore.

"Keilana! Wait!" I called, but I stayed where I was. I didn't trust myself to be close to her right now. I didn't trust myself to keep from spilling the beans about everything and dropping to my knees to beg her forgiveness.

She didn't look back at me as she snatched up her blanket, and beach bag. The one with the cars keys in it. She was furious at me and I couldn't blame her.

When she was out of sight, I swam out into the ocean using powerful strokes to take me far from the beach. When I was so far out that the people looked like ants I tilted my head skyward and screamed until my throat was raw. I didn't have a clue about what to do, about what was best for us all, and for the first time I seriously wondered whether I'd be able to complete this job and still keep my sanity.

Loving Keilana was like quicksand. I'd been sucked in before I could stop myself and now I was floundering with no way out.

The best thing I'd ever experienced was killing me.

CHAPTER SIX

ANOTHER WEEK WENT by and in all that time Keilana barely spoke to me. Every bit of the warmth that had blossomed in our relationship had evaporated the moment my lips pressed against hers. Well, not with the kissing itself, which was fantastic, but with my rejection of her afterwards. I knew I'd stung her pride and self-esteem. But Keilana wasn't the only one hurting. I didn't want to eat. I didn't want to go to class. I just wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head and make the entire world go away.

Somehow I'd managed to fire off two more reports to the Poppenhouses, the last one recommending that they terminate their surveillance of their daughter. Keilana was attending class and she hadn't gone anywhere but Billie's house or the library after school all week.

If she was in a romantic relationship with Billie, I sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to out her to her parents. And, as much as I hated to admit it, if Billie and Keilana were lovers, it didn't seem to be hurting Keilana at moment. There was no reason, other than the pathetic truth—that I wanted Keilana for myself—to mess up that relationship. Keilana's parents could go to hell if they didn't like it.

A low-level depression had settled over me, but an almost-desperate Russ had convinced me to get off my ass and finish what I'd started. He reminded me that Keilana might still need me. And while I doubted that was really true, I wasn't willing to let her down again.

I'd given up even trying to participate in class, and that had left me plenty of time to do some real detective work. But as with this entire case, the answers I got just led to more questions.

A guy named Jessie Albonianco owned the house where Keilana had left Billie and the black backpack. There was no marriage license or a filing for divorce for Jessie and Billie, but after some digging I found a birth certificate for a Joshua Albonianco, born in 1998. That had to be the Josh that Billie mentioned the night we met. Supposing that was true, that meant Billie's name wasn't Billie at all. The mother on Josh's birth certificate was listed as Hazel Jane Allen.

I'd been able to trace Billie's last place of employment to a bar in Ocean Beach. But it turned out that Billie hadn't worked there for over six months. After that, her employment trail went cold.

Suddenly, Keilana barreled through the front door of our cottage, and with a frown, I closed my case notebook. "Hi."

She gave me a quick nod of acknowledgment but no verbal answer.

She was wearing her workout clothes, her body covered in a thin sheen of perspiration. I'd given up watching her as she worked out. She always did the same thing and she never went anyplace until she'd come home and showered.

Keilana had seen me write in my notebook a time or two before and I'd simply explained it away as a journal. I was surprised when she didn't ask more about it, or exhibit any curiosity at all. But then I remembered that everyone isn't the meddling, prying person that I am.

"So," I said with forced cheerfulness, "what are you doing tonight?" We used to eat dinner together most evenings. We didn't do that anymore.

She didn't even look at me. Instead, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water.

My temper flared. "You can't ignore me forever, Keilana. You just ... you can't is all." I sat my casebook on the table next to my beer.

She turned and pinned me with a serious look. "I'm not ignoring you, Cadie. I just don't have anything to say to you." She turned back toward the fridge as she took a long drink of water, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand when she was finished.

"Well, I have something to say to you."

Her shoulders stiffened. "Don't you always?"

My jaw tightened. "Listen, Newman, it wasn't just my lips that were doing the kissing! You were there too!"

"But I'm not the one who started it and then immediately wanted to take it back!" she wailed.

That shut me up for several seconds and before I could come up with a suitable response she whirled around to face me.

"You were right, you know," she said softly, now more genuinely sad than angry.

I blinked slowly. "I was?" This was the first time in my life where my being right sounded like a very, very bad thing.

She nodded. "You said that kissing me would be a mistake. That we might not be able to be friends afterward."

A knot formed in my stomach. I didn't like the direction this conversion was going, even though it was the most she'd said to me in days. "That's not exactly what I said."

"I think it's close enough."

Even now, even with her covered in sweat, being difficult, and pissed off at me, I wanted to kiss her, hold her, and tell her how much I cared for her. But my deceit, the enormous pink elephant that would always stand between us, kept me from doing anything at all.

Keilana looked as though she was either going to burst into tears or sock me in the face. I would have preferred the latter. "This last week has sucked," she said plainly, sniffing a few times to control her emotions.

I could have sworn someone was sitting on my chest as I laughed humorlessly. "No kidding."

"Just what is it about me that you find lacking?"

I closed my eyes, unable to look at her. "Aw, Keilana." I sighed. "It's not that. There's nothing I find lacking about you. You're smart, and funny, and pretty." And I'm crazy about you!

"I know you probably think I'm being ridiculous, but it hurts to look at you and know that I want more from you than you want from me. In fact, it makes me feel like shit!"

I jumped to my feet, willing to say anything to make her stop looking at me like I was the female version of a prick tease. "Fucking isn't always the answer."

Her entire body jerked with my words. "I wasn't talking about fucking." She shot me a withering glare. "And you know it. Which is why I don't understand why you're doing this."

"You don't understand," I said quietly. "Things aren't as simple as you think they are." Tell her the truth. Tell her. Tell her, my mind chanted. But I bit my tongue. The fact that I refused to become romantically involved with her was for her own good, whether she knew it or not.

She moved closer to me, not stopping until we stood toe-to-toe. "I do understand!" Her eyes blazed. "I understand that you won't let us be lovers and I can't take us just being friends. So where does that leave us?"

The phone began to ring.

"Leave it," I said, gesturing toward the offended device with my middle finger. "We're not finished talking."

"Talking isn't going to change how I feel."

"Ugh!" My temper snapped. "Everything isn't about you. Must you be such an unreasonable brat?"

Keilana's blue eyes cooled several degrees as she picked up the phone from the kitchen counter. "It's what I do best, remember?"

"Not that again!" I slammed my palm down on the small kitchen table, making it vibrate and ring out loudly. "That bitchy princess act isn't going to work with me," I told her in no uncertain terms. "We're going to keep talking until we come to some sort of an understanding."

Ignoring me, she pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello."

"Goddammit, Keilana!"

"Oh, hi, Billie." Keilana leaned against the counter, pressing the cool water bottle to her flushed cheek.

"Fuck me," I mumbled, rolling my eyes in disgust. No matter where I tried to go, all roads led to Billie.

Keilana suddenly blanched. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that. I—" Then she saw that I was listening, and with an annoyed look, she marched into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Fine." I closed my eyes, and rubbed my temples, a helpless feeling enveloping me. "What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?" If I told her the truth she would throw me out and never forgive me. If I continued to lie to her, I would never forgive myself. But that was my cross to bear, wasn't it? I'd sold my soul to the devil, so was it really right that now I was complaining about being in hell?

Deciding the only good thing left in my miserable excuse for a life was my business, I tried to listen to Keilana's conversation through the bathroom door. But she'd lowered her voice. All I could hear was a series of murmurs and finally the sound of the shower going.

Giving the bathroom door a good kick, I gave up. Rapidly approaching my breaking point, I locked my case notebook in my desk, grabbed my cell phone, and headed outside into the fresh evening air.

On the fourth ring, Russ picked up.

"Hey, Belinda!" he greeted, sounding happier than anyone should.

"Hey," I replied tonelessly. "I need your help tonight."

"You do? Excellent! What can I do?"

I looked back at our cottage. The automatic porch lights had just popped on, signaling dusk. The weather, right along with my relationship with Keilana had gotten colder all week. Absently, I rubbed the goose bumps on my arms, wishing I had on long sleeves. "I need you to babysit Keilana while I go see what I can find out about Billie."

"That's the crazy bitch who tried to shoot me, right?"

I didn't remind Russ that the gun had only been a toy and that she really hadn't tried to shoot him. His fear had been real and he'd undoubtedly gotten a lot of mileage out of his adventure with his pals from the office. "Yeah, that's her. I think she's part of whatever Keilana is doing."

"Her drug connection."

"No!" I exploded. "How many times do I have to tell you she's not a junkie?"

"Fine. Take it easy. Even if she's not her drug connection or madam ..."

"Russ," I warned.

"Confronting Billie might be dangerous."

I smiled coldly. "Don't you worry, I can handle Billie." In fact, I was looking forward to the prospect with childish glee.

"If she's not her connection, how does Billie fit into this other than being the Poppenhouse kid's nutcase friend?"

"It's likely that Keilana and Billie ..." I gripped the phone so hard my knuckles hurt. "They're probably sleeping together. And—"

Russ snorted derisively. "Keilana should have better taste."

I couldn't help but smile at that. "Be that as it may, there's something between them. It's more than them being girlfriends." I began moving down the small path toward the fountain, kicking pebbles out of my way as I went. "Call it women's intuition."

There was a small stretch of silence before Russ said, "If that's the case, shouldn't you stay with Keilana? I can case Billie's house. Hell, if she's not there, I'll break in and see if she still has that backpack. Just give me her address."

"No." My lips thinned. "I need to get away from this place tonight. I can't ... I just ..." I let out an unsteady breath. "If I don't get a break from this I'm going to go nuts, Russ. Please."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

It was more like forty-five minutes before Russ pulled into the visitor parking section at Madonna Del Mar University. I saw him select a spot, but I stayed where I was, on a well-lit stone bench with a good view of the area.

I called his cell phone. "You're late," I said flatly.

"Hey, don't get grumpy with me. It's not my fault you're in a piss-poor mood. I missed my dinner, I'm missing the Padres playoff game, and my wife wants both of our heads on a platter."

I sighed. "Sorry, Russ. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Neither do I, Belinda. But I'm willing to bet that it's because something happened between you and Keilana."

Sometimes I was surprised at just how perceptive Russ could be. "What makes you think that?"

He chuckled softly. "You haven't gone on and on about her all week."

I scrubbed my chilly arms again, disgusted with myself for being so transparent. "Listen, I don't want to talk about it."

"Belinda, you'll feel better if you do."

"What's going to make me feel better is finishing this fucking case! If nothing breaks by the end of the weekend, I'm outta here. The Poppenhouses can have their money back if they don't like it." Wow. The decision was made that fast. And when I mulled over the words, I found, to my delight, that I meant every single one of them.

"What the hell? How are you going to pay rent on your office and apartment? How are you going to buy Kibble for Smelly if you give back everything you've earned?"

I stood and headed for my car. "When I left Keilana she was in a pair of sweat pants, and reading in bed."

"Belinda—"

"Don't Belinda me. She's in for the night, Russ. Just make sure she doesn't get out without you following her. I'll pay your normal fee plus overtime."

I heard him let out a frustrated breath. "How are you going to pay me if you give back your fee!"

"I'll find a way." That would mean selling something, but whatever. I was past caring.

"I don't want your money."

I smiled to bitterly to myself. "Sure you do. It's all about the money, isn't it? Just business. You told me so yourself."

"That's not—"

I hung up before I could say anymore. It wasn't Russ's fault that my life was such a complicated mess, but I couldn't seem to keep from lashing out at people. I wasn't fit for human company or conversation. Hell, even my dog was lucky to be well away from me. Maybe something would break tonight, or maybe it wouldn't. Either way, a solitary stakeout where I could sit and think was what I needed.

Well, that and a little luck that wasn't all bad.

CHAPTER SEVEN

IT WAS JUST before eight when a teenage girl knocked on Billie's bungalow door. I ducked down in my car and waited to see what would happen next. Thirty seconds later, Billie scampered out of her house, waving goodbye to a little boy and the girl that I assumed was his babysitter.

My mouth began to water. No, not at Billie, but at what she was carrying. The much-sought-after backpack.

It looked heavier than I'd remembered and I began to get a little nauseated as I considered the hideous, endless list of possibilities for what could be inside. Laundered money. Guns. Fake green cards. Body parts. Mary Kay products.

Billie climbed into a late-model Chevy Malibu and started down the street. I was hot on her tail, following her several cars back and singing to the song on the radio when my cell phone rang.

It was Russ.

"What's up?" I was bound and determined to make up for being such an asshole to him earlier.

"I lost her."

"What?" I roared, nearly steering myself into another car.

"A semi pulled between us on the 5 and right then she crossed two lanes and exited. I'm backtracking now but there's no way I'll find her. Wherever she was going, she was in a hurry."

"Goddammit, Russ, why didn't you call and tell me she was on the move?"

"I was going to call as soon as we got wherever she was going," he said, sounding contrite. "What do you want me to do now?"

I let out an unhappy breath. "You should go home to your wife and enjoy what's left of the baseball game, Russ."

"Belinda, I feel like a shithead. I can't believe I lost her. I trail ten cheating husbands a week and I haven't lost one in months."

Following someone on the California highway system wasn't as easy as the television shows made it appear. If Russ had gone months without losing someone, then he was a hell of a lot better at following by car than I was. "Don't worry about it."

"How come you're not mad at me? You should be mad at me!"

I rolled my eyes as I merged into the left lane, continuing my pursuit of Billie. "Would it make you feel better if I were?" In truth, I was more than a little miffed, but I trusted that Russ had done his best and there was no guarantee that I could have done any better. Keilana drove like a bat out of hell.

"Yes," he said bluntly. "It would make me feel way better."

"Fine. You're fired. And I'm not paying you for tonight either, you loser."

"Thanks, Belinda." I could hear the relief in his voice. "You're the best."

"God"—I laughed a little, despite my frustration—"we have a totally screwed up relationship."

"If that ain't the truth." There was a long pause before he said, "You know I love you, no matter what, right?"

I nearly hit another car. "What?" Quickly, I straightened the wheel. Russ didn't say things like that to me.

But the only sound in my ear was a dial tone.

I shook my head. The wiener did have a flare for the dramatic.

A few more turns and we were pulling into The Devil's Belly. Oh, yeah. I knew it. I knew Billie was Keilana's connection to this part of San Diego.

Billie pulled her Chevy Malibu into same small parking lot where Keilana had parked her BMW. I scanned the area, taking in the names of the dance clubs and bars that were already pulsing with life, their neon signs lighting up the night.

I didn't park in the same lot as Billie. Instead, I parked on the street about a hundred feet from the lot. I kept my eyes peeled for Keilana. Were she and Billie meeting? Or was it just a coincidence that Billie had spoken to Keilana on the phone not long before I left the cottage?

Russ always said there were no coincidences in our line of work. Of course, Russ also said "Pull my finger" quite often. So it's not like I was going to engrave any of his little ditties on stone tablets.

I hid in the shadows as Billie and that black backpack went to the front door of a club called "Bottom's Up." She flashed the doorman-slash-killer-bouncer a smile and he held open the door for her, a blast of music escaping as she hurried inside.

When I tried the same thing he stuck out his arm to block my way. "Ahem." He gave me a pointed look.

I stopped dead in my tracks. "Yes?"

"Fifteen dollars and"—he looked me over with a critical eye—"let's see some I.D."

"Gimme a break." I mumbled, "I'm older than you are, Jack Ass," as I dug through the pockets of my jeans.

"What was that?" he asked sharply, taking a small wad of cash from a couple of sailors who were dressed like Popeye, and letting them inside. I couldn't help but notice that he didn't ask for their I.D. even though they looked like they were in their teens.

"Just a minute." I tried to look around them as they entered to see if I could spot Billie. But the Incredible Hulk blocked my view with his enormous body. He crossed his bulky arms over his chest.

I smiled brightly. "Here's a twenty and my driver's license. Keep the change."

He grunted as he reviewed my license, giving me skeptical look.

Blue and red lights reflected off his shiny, bald head. "Next time you buy a fake, try getting one with an age somebody's gonna believe." But despite what he said, he stepped aside as he handed me back my license. I reached for the door but stopped with my hand on the handle. With my other hand, I dug out another twenty and held it under the bouncer's nose. "Does a woman named Billie work here? Tall, redhead."

He snatched the bill from my fingers so quickly that for a second I couldn't remember if I'd had one there at all.

"No."

I waited for more, but figured out pretty quickly that my twenty had only bought one word. Christ. Thank God I'd gone to the campus cash machine that morning. I peeled off another twenty.

"How about Hazel? Same description."

"Yep."

I shook my head. Only in California would someone use their real name to work in a bar on the edge of The Devil's Belly, but go by their fake name in everyday life.

"How about someone named Keilana?" I tried, hoping to make my money stretch.

He just stared at me.

I made a face and handed him another twenty, stuffing my few remaining bills back into my pocket along with my license.

"Never heard of him."

He clearly wasn't the sharpest tack in the box. "It's a her." I stepped aside as two young men and a women pretty enough to make me do a double take stepped up next to me, paid, and entered the club. Then I described Keilana in detail.

"She don't work here," he said finally. Unexpectedly, he winked and smiled, showing off several gold teeth. "But it sounds like she should."

What the hell did that mean? I frowned as I went inside.

The volume of the music on the outside of the club wasn't anything compared to what it was like on the inside. Deafening was putting it lightly. The large room was packed with people and smelled like a mixture of sweat, cologne, and alcohol. Yuck.

Near the door was a large sunken dance floor with what had to be two hundred sweating bodies pressed up against each other, writhing to the obnoxious music. Double yuck.

I caught sight of a waitress … well, actually I caught sight of her breasts. Which was incredible easy to do considering all that she had covering them were teensy pasties that made the girls at Hooters look positively Amish.

This was a titty bar? I glanced around again. This was, by far, the nicest titty bar I'd ever been in. Not that I'd been in many, mind you. It was relatively bright with lots of flashing lights illuminating a spattering of Halloween decorations that hung down from the ceiling. The place was clean too—my shoes weren't sticking to the floor with every step—and most of the patrons were dressed for a night on the town.

Have I ever mentioned how, on the right woman, a belly shirt is nothing short of a work of art? Yowsa.

The muted roar of applause drew my attention to the back of the enormous room. I waded my way through the mass of dancing bodies, my eardrums throbbing with every beat of the music. Just as I got far enough to see what was making the crowd cheer, the club went pitch black and the music came to an abrupt halt.

Muffled screams rippled through the place, and suddenly the air was electric with excitement. A velvety voice came over the loud speaker. "Gentlemen, and you very naughty ladies, are you ready to take a trip to the dark side ..."—his voice dropped to a whisper—"with Hazel?"

Oops. I guess Billie wasn't just a waitress.

The crowd went wild when they heard her name. I took a step forward, straining to see through the darkness, the dim exit lights in the corners of the club doing nothing to help me. I bumped into what I hoped was a chair, but said sorry just in case it was a really bony guy instead. I felt around for a second, really hoping it wasn't a guy, before gracelessly flopping down in the seat.

Just as my butt hit the wood, a spotlight lit a small stage and a hypnotic tune, all base and drums, filled the club. I looked around and realized I was in the middle of a section of the club filled with small tables. Almost every seat was taken, mostly by men, all with their eyes riveted on the wooden platform.

Okay, there was no pole on the stage. At least she wasn't a stripper. I was hoping for singer or comedian or something equally benign and unlikely.

People from the dance floor poured into the area where I was sitting, filling the small spaces between the tables, and leaving those who couldn't fit to dejectedly head back to the dance floor or to one of three bars around the perimeter. The music slowly got louder and louder and louder and, finally, when I thought it couldn't get any louder, it stopped altogether.

Then it started up again, much slower, the beat more sensual. Fog poured across the stage and out into the audience. It swirled around our tables and feet, making us part of whatever was going to happen. My belly tightened in anticipation of the unknown ...

Suddenly, as if by magic, a lone woman appeared out of the mist. She wore a glittering gold mask that covered only her eyes and nose and a full-length leather cape that was wrapped tightly around her and had a stiff collar that came up to her cheekbones. The only thing exposed other than her head was fishnet-covered ankles and black spike heels so high she looked like an Amazon.

I wasn't sure what exactly she was supposed to be dressed like, but whatever it was it did more than catch my eye. As soon as Billie moved, gas lamps along the edge of the stage exploded to life, providing a flickering, intimate light that replaced the flashing neon. More smoke flooded the stage, swirling around Billie's legs and giving the platform the appearance of a foggy London alleyway at midnight.

I was really starting to doubt that she was a comedian.

A hush fell over the crowd as we all waited with bated breath to see what would happen next. Patience is a cruel mistress, but, thankfully, we didn't have to wait long. The woman, who I was pretty sure was Billie, whipped open her cape to expose her flowing red hair and a body encased in a tight black bustier and a black thong so brief that it literally caused my mouth to drop open.

Oh, yeah, that was Billie and she was a stripper. The implications of that caused my stomach to fill with dread, but I had a hard time thinking of anything other than what was parading in front of me in barely nothing.

Billie's show did nothing if not command attention.

She snapped her cape closed, and there was a chorus of sighs, many of them female, as she strode to the end of the stage, her hips swaying dangerously with every step. When she got to the very edge of the stage she smiled a dangerous smile and began to dance for a man in the front row who was frantically waving a fistful of cash. I could see her body moving sensually beneath the cape and in perfect time with the music. The fact that I couldn't see exactly what she was doing only made it sexier.

She was good.

Only her gloved arms emerged from her cape as she moved in time with music that seemed to pulse with the beat of my heart. With agonizing slowness, she peeled off one elbow-length glove and my eyes got a little wider as she used it to stroke the man's cheek. He looked like he was about ready to pass out from the sheer ecstasy of Billie's touch, and his buddy had to reach out and grab him by the belt to keep him from crawling up on stage and mounting her.

She was better than good.

Somehow, in the middle of all that, Billy never missed a beat. She took his money, caressed his face with the tips of her long fingernails, then she drew her hand back and used her butter-soft leather glove to slap the man hard in the face.

A loud crack sounded as she hit him and I flinched.

More than a few members of the audience swooned.

There was mixture of shouts and groans from the crowd. But the young man groaned as though getting bitch-slapped by a stripper was the greatest thing that had ever happened in his short life and threw his entire wad of bills on the stage. Smiling like a Cheshire cat, Billie turned her back to the crowd. She flipped her cape up off her bottom, locked her knees, and bent deeply to pick up the bills, giving her derriere a provocative little thrust then shake.

I saw ... well, everything. I didn't know a person could bend so deeply. By the way, Billie is a natural redhead.

I held in a nervous giggle as the name of the club came floating back to me. At least it was appropriate.

God only knew where Billie put the money she had collected. It disappeared in the blink of an eye and was nowhere to be seen. She straightened and spun around in one graceful move, flipping the cape over her shoulders and bringing her hands up to caress her chest as she strutted to the other side of the stage, her large breasts bobbing up and down with every step.

I felt a twinge of guilt at the wetness collecting between my legs. After all, I had good reason to hate Billie. But, God, I was only human!

She had a body to die for and when she had a "wardrobe malfunction" of her own, exposing a firm breast to the hot air of the club, and grabbed and twisted her own nipple, I gasped right along with the porky guy sitting next to me.

A waitress came by my table and gently inclined her head. The cocoa-colored skin covering her torso and hefty breasts was flawless, but I did my best to look her in the eye as I spoke. I held up another twenty-dollar bill. "A beer and a question?"

She nodded. "Make it quick."

"Does a women name Keilana work here? Young, five feet eight, long dark hair, amazing blue eyes." My gaze strayed to Billie who was now bare to the waist, her hips moving in a slow grind against her hand. Holy shit.

"Sorry. Never heard of her."

My head snapped back to the waitress. "Huh?"

"Never heard of her," she repeated tolerantly, a tiny smile shaping her mouth. She set my twenty on her tray. "Bud okay? It's what's on tap."

"Yeah," I said absently, dizzy with relief over her news. Maybe Keilana had only been picking up Billie from work the night Russ and I had tracked them down.

Oops. There went Billie's cape.

Yeah, maybe Keilana was just Billie's ride. I loved that thought, and like any person trying with all their might to delude themselves, I eagerly embraced it. I just began to smile when two more women joined Billie on stage.

The crowd cheered as the masked women, each clad in a slightly shorter version of Billie's cape, crawled across the stage like vixen pussycats, their backs arched high.

Billie turned only her head to look at them and commanded their movements with a bare flick of her hand or toss of her flaming hair.

I blinked. They were her slaves. Then I glanced around. So was the audience.

After stripping down to deep purple, satin panties, the slaves bookended Billie and began to slid sensuously against her. She dug a hand into each of the women's hair and guided them together until they kissed each other. Hard.

God, I love my job.

The new zoning laws that the city council managed to get passed for this redevelopment area were something else! Was there anything that the performers couldn't do? I hoped not. Sometimes I'm such a pervert.

I swallowed dryly and squirmed a little in my seat, wishing that beer would hurry up already.

Billie placed a single finger under the platinum blonde's chin and lifted her face. The woman purred, reveling in complete control.

Have I mentioned that Billie was good at her job?

Then Billie kissed her slave softly, and with as much tenderness as I'd ever seen. The tip of her tongue appeared and she traced the woman's lips, pulling back just a little so the audience could see the thin line of glistening salvia that still connected them, only to be broken by a smoldering kiss where Billie dominated her minion completely, forcing her to lean way back as she devoured her.

A light sweat broke out across my forehead and I couldn't tear my eyes from the stage.

A shower of bills poured onto the stage from an enthusiastic patron who looked like a soccer mom out for the evening.

A fourth woman appeared out of the mist. Her cape was blood red and hooded and gleamed in the mysterious light. Her mask was a shimmering gold and Billie and her slaves recoiled at the sight of her.

I got lost in the show, holding my breath as the woman in red stormed over to Billie, her movements oozing with sensuality. Ooo … she was already my favorite. The slaves cowered, but Billie faced her foe, standing tall and proud, though her chest heaved with fear.

Brazenly, the woman in red caressed Billie's throat, but Billie broke away. Billie danced around the woman, wantonly teasing her with her body, stripping as she went. In just a few minutes she wore nothing but garters and shoes.

The woman in red tried to fight it, but eventually it was Billie who was stronger, and who put her under her iniquitous spell.

Billie's slaves danced in delight, exposing more and more of their bodies as they moved to the edge of the stage and mercilessly worked the crowd, stuffing bills in their G-strings and capes.

Billie threw her head back and laughed wickedly, white teeth flashing. She hissed and tore back the woman's hood, causing a shock of dark hair to tumble forward.

A sense of foreboding hit me right in the gut.

More smoke flowed across the stage as she tore off the woman's cape, exposing a spectacular pale body covered in scanty crimson bra and panties. I couldn't help but notice the woman's belly button was pierced.

And my stomach fell through the floor.

The spotlight focused on the woman in red as Billie's hand hovered over her breast, intent on ripping off a bra that fit so tight it was like a second skin.

My heart leapt into my throat.

The masked woman groaned in anguish, trying one last time to break Billie's sensual spell. They moved forward around the stage dancing and writhing. They finally came to an abrupt halt. Even the music stopped. And for one dramatic second they stood stock-still, until the women in red tore her gaze from Billie's and looked out into the crowd.

Right at me.

With incredible blue eyes.

My heart stopped beating and I flew to my feet. "Keilana?" I screamed, my voice rising above the throbbing beat of the music that had begun to play again.

Billie and the woman in red froze, then both their jaws dropped. It was her!

I don't remember everything that happened next. All I knew was that Keilana did not belong up there in front of hundreds of prying eyes. And I was going to do everything in my power to get her off that stage.

Like a woman possessed, I rushed forward, forcing my way between the tables, and ignoring the outraged shouts of the patrons I shoved aside. I couldn't get on stage from where I was because the slave girls were dancing in the front and a group of guys had clustered around them to stuff dollar bills in their panties.

I bolted for the side of the stage, seeing another dancer holding a video recorder and taping the entire performance out of my peripheral vision. Jesus, they were making a "Lezzy Stripper Gone Wild" video too? Could this be much worse?

I really should avoid asking that question in the future.

Just as I put my hands on the stage a beefy bouncer grabbed me by the collar. I whirled around and shoved him with all my might, sending him into a table of cheering college-aged men. He smashed into their drinks, sending several glasses to the ground.

During the commotion, the men tried to help the bouncer off their tiny table, and I turned, using my hands to push myself on stage. "Keilana?" I had barely gotten to my feet when two more bouncers tackled me. The wind rushed out of me and for a few seconds everything went black as they covered me.

"Keilana!" I gasped again when I was yanked up into the air, but she was gone and Billie and her slaves were dancing their hearts out on the other side of the stage, drawing attention away from me.

"Get off me!" Out of sheer instinct I began to kick and shout as I was whisked to a side door. I hated to be touched by strangers and not only were these gorillas rough about it, but one of them even copped a feel. Suddenly there was blast of cool air as the door to the alleyway was opened and I was unceremoniously tossed outside.

I smashed against a garbage can, seeing stars for a few seconds. Or was that neon? "Shit." It had rained while I was inside and I was sitting in a puddle again.

The man holding the door pointed an angry finger at me. "I don't feel like calling the cops this early in the night. Consider yourself lucky, bitch."

"I don't feel very lucky," I stupidly said, rubbing my head with a shaky hand.

He sneered at me. "Don't come back here again. Ever."

Then he slammed the door shut.

I sat there in the wet alleyway, stunned, the scent of rain and rotting garbage all around me. So my sort-of-girlfriend was a stripper? Great. Just great!

I was beside myself and, with a little effort, I was pretty sure I could chew through the metal door that separated me from her and steal her away from this skuzzy place. I know I thought it was sort of nice inside before. But that was before. Now it just seemed seedy and nasty and ... well, anything else bad I could think of.

I wanted to burn the place down.

There was no doubt that I was losing my mind. With a little grunt, I quickly pushed myself to my feet, wincing at my sore knees and wobbly legs. My jeans were torn at both knees and I felt the warm, sticky sensation of blood dripping from a couple of nasty scrapes.

Straightening my back, I brushed off my hands. I gasped at the sharp stinging sensation and turned them over to try and look at my palms. It was pretty dark back here, but I could tell by the pain and the rough feel of the skin that they were scratched up, tiny bits of rocks and broken glass still embedded. After another ruthless brushing against my torn jeans, they still hurt, but they no longer felt like they were on fire.

I gritted my teeth, drew in a deep breath, and ran as fast as I could for the front of the club. The bouncers had to wade through that crowd inside to the make it to the front and let the guy there know not to let me back in. If I was lucky, I could beat them there.

There was only one guy in front of me and I had my money ready when I got to the front of line. The bald bouncer looked at me a few seconds. He recognized me, but he was having trouble placing me.

"I was here last night," I lied, doing my best to smile. He didn't ask for I.D. this time, instead he just gave me a noncommittal grunt, took my money, and stepped aside. Maybe I look older when I'm wet, disheveled, and smell like garbage?

Once inside I headed straight for the ladies' room. I looked like crap. One of my eyes was already starting to poof up. I'd gotten a pretty good jostling when I was tossed out of the club—I touched the tender skin—but I didn't remember getting smacked in the eye. I didn't want to draw any more unwanted attention to myself so I used a few paper towels to clean off my knees and hands. Then I went back out in search of Keilana.

Billie was on stage again, dressed in a totally different outfit, and dancing to music with a sexy Latin beat. She was up there alone, so where was Keilana?

King Kong and Mighty Joe Young, aka the bouncers that kicked me out, were flanking the stage, making sure none of the customers wandered back where the strippers were. And that wouldn't do. I hated to do this, but ...

I scanned the crowd standing around the bar and found a middle-aged man with his shirt unbuttoned to his belly, a cheesy "Hair Club for Men" toupee, and several gold chains around his neck. His jeans were three sizes too small and I could smell his cologne from here. Perfect.

I stood next to him and waited a few seconds until the crowd around us contained a couple more women, which wasn't easy in this mostly male audience. I waited until my first victim was close and then I discreetly gave her a hard pinch on the ass.

She screamed.

At the same time I pinched the second woman just as hard on the derriere then yelled myself, grabbing my butt in the process. Indignant, I pointed at the man next to us and screeched, "You pervert! I can't believe you did that. You pawed my ass!"

"Mine too!" the woman next to me immediately followed. She shoved the man hard. "Sick bastard!"

The man's jaw sagged and he blinked stupidly. "I ... didn't ... I—"

"You sicko!" the second woman exclaimed, taking the guy's own martini out of his hand and dumping it over his head. Good thing those Hair Club infomercials always show guys swimming and water skiing and such. "My girlfriend, Dusty, is going to kick"—she poked him in the chest with her finger—"your"—another poke—"ass!"

Uh-oh, time to go. I disappeared into the crowd just as the bouncers appeared and began peeling someone I figured was Dusty off the Hair Club guy. Sorry, man. I headed backstage as quickly as I could.

I'd never been backstage anything before and it was quieter than I expected. There were a few dancers milling around, but none of them were Keilana. "Keilana," I whispered loudly. "Keilana?" I came to a closed door on one side of the short hallway and just as I reached out to open it, a long arm appeared from nowhere and yanked me inside a tiny room on the opposite side of the hall.

I was whisked inside, and before I knew it, Keilana was locking the door. She whirled around and faced me, her eyes burning with anger. "Are you trying to get the shit beat out of you?"

I blinked. "I—I didn't ... I—" Jesus, I sounded like the Hair Club guy.

"If the bouncers catch you back here after kicking you out there's no telling what they'll do." She ran her hands down my arms, checking me for injuries. When she saw my knees, she sighed. "I looked for you in the alleyway but you were already gone. I thought you might have come to your senses and gone home." Her eyes narrowed. "That reminds me. What the hell are you doing here?"

I pointed at myself with my thumb. "What am I doing here? What about you? Since when are you a Goddamned stripper!" I yelled, my emotions churning to the surface with surprising ease. "There is no way—!"

Keilana clamped her hand over my mouth. "Shut up," she said bluntly. "We can talk later. Thanks to you I've been asked to leave for the night."

I wrenched my head from her hand. "Tonight only?"

She nodded. "I'll be back."

The words tied my guts into a solid knot.

"And next time you won't come and make trouble for me, got it?"

God, she'd certainly been pissed at me before, but now she practically had smoke coming out of her ears. I grabbed her biceps. I had to get through to her somehow. She wasn't going to come back here and strip if I had to chain myself to her. This wasn't about jealously or snobbery. Keilana was more than a pair of tits and a firm ass.

"You don't have to be a stripper," I said in a rush. I cast around for something to say that wouldn't insult her or her friend Billie, but I didn't have much luck. "Have you lost your mind?" I began to gesture wildly. "I don't care how deep into trouble you think you are or whether or not your parents will help you out of it. I'll help you. I'll do whatever it takes. You don't need to do this for the money."

Her back stiffened. "Cadie—"

"Let me finish!" The music was deafening back here and I had to raise my voice even when I would have rather not.

I waited until her mouth snapped closed before I continued. "You're too smart to waste yourself here. This is what you do when you can't do anything else. This is what you do when you're desperate. You don't need this. Don't you get it? You're special!"

She lifted a single eyebrow. "Can I say something yet?"

"I guess." I braced myself. This is where she told me her horrible secret. That she was a sex addict or that she had thirteen illegitimate children she was trying to support on the side. Or that she was the madam in a prostitution ring that worked out of this club. How many years in jail had Heidi Fleiss gotten?

"I'm not in trouble."

I let go of her arms, stung to the core over her lie, and only barely stopped myself from shaking her. I closed my eyes in a bid for self-control. There was such a fine line between loving Keilana and wanting to kill her. "That can't be true or you wouldn't be selling peeks at your naked body to a bunch of perverts!"

"You were in the audience."

"My point exactly. Christ, before I knew it was you in the red cape, I was hoping you'd dance closer to the front so I could get a good look at your nipples!"

"Are you saying you don't want to see my nipples now?"

"No! Yes! No! Ah!" I covered my face with my hands.

"I'm not a stripper, Cadie."

"I saw you on stage. I saw you dancing!" I didn't add that she'd been awesome.

She put her hands on her hips. "I gathered that when you rushed the stage, screaming like a madwoman."

I shook my head, and unable to do a better job of articulating what I was feeling or thinking, I blurted, "You can't be a stripper. You just can't."

Her gaze sharpened and her voice dropped to a dangerous purr. "Says who?"

"Says me! Me! Me! Me!" I don't spaz out often, but when I do I rarely go only halfway.

She pushed to her feet, using her slight height advantage as she glared down at me. "And who are you to tell me how to live my life?" She didn't seem like a twenty-one-year-old college student at that moment. She was a self-assured woman who knew exactly what she wanted. "Remember our game? Call this one of my questions, but I want the truth."

I took a step backward, needing a second to think. That really was the question, wasn't it? Who was I? "You know who I am. I—I'm your roommate."

"Try again," she demanded, stepping forward and giving me no relief.

I swallowed hard. "I'm your friend who doesn't want to see you debase yourself for a few dollars."

She shook her head. "Not good enough, not for how insane you're acting."

My eyes dropped to the floor and my hands shaped impotent fists. I looked up when I felt a warm hand come to rest on the side of my face.

Keilana's gaze softened. "I think you're someone who is in love with me, Cadie. Are you ever going to say it or are you going to make me wait forever?"

The music stopped and suddenly I could hear the pounding of my own heart thudding loudly in my ears. Astonished, I gaped at her. "You-you knew?" I finally spluttered.

"It's not like you hide it very well." She smiled cautiously. "So is it true? Even after seeing me on stage?" She gestured around the small room. "And here?"

I surged forward and kissed her with all my might.

She kissed me back like she wanted me more than anything on the planet and my knees went weak at the feeling.

When we finally separated there was a loud popping noise as the suction between our lips was broken. I felt a little dazed. "It's true," I whispered emotionally, thrilled to the core to finally be saying it. "Anyplace. Doesn't matter where."

And with that I knew this game had to end. I did love her and there would end the lies, even if that meant she'd never speak to me again. My nostrils flared with fear. "And how do you feel about me?"

She smiled a beautiful smile and took one of my hands in hers and cradled it softly. "You are the nosiest person I've ever met"—she laughed when the tips of my ears turned red—"but I'm falling in love with you anyway, Cadie. I have been since almost the beginning. I know I can trust you and to me that's the most important thing."

"It is?" My heart twisted in my chest.

"I don't just want to get you into bed. Well, I do," she said grinning, "but I want more than that too." A tiny bit of insecurity peeked through. "I want everything, I mean, if you do."

A lump grew in my throat and tears pooled in my eyes. My heart was soaring but at the same time I felt like I was going down in flames. She'd said everything I'd ever wanted to hear, well, I could have lived without the nosy part. But the rest was what I'd secretly longed for, even dreamt about. And yet it was all wrong.

She needed to fall in love with Belinda, not Cadie.

Then I noticed something near her feet. The damned black backpack! I hated that fucking thing the way I hated myself for betraying her trust.

She followed my gaze. "It's not a mouse, is it?" She began dancing around, looking at the floor. "I hate mice!"

"No mouse. What's inside that backpack?" My mouth was suddenly dry and I did my best to lick my lips. I knew in my heart that I'd forgive her damn near anything ... and that I'd help her out of whatever mess she was in. But I still had to know.

For me and no one else.

Her brows furrowed at my question and she bent to pick up the pack. "See for yourself."

I looked her right in the eyes and swore to myself that I wouldn't go crazy when she confirmed my suspicions. "It's where you keep your costumes for stripping, right?"

Puzzled, she just looked at me for a few seconds. "Weren't you listening?" She rolled her eyes. "I told you, I'm not a stripper."

I gritted my teeth. "Then what are you, Keilana? Because I know what I damn well saw!"

The sound of running footsteps pitter-patted down the hall.

"Shh!" Worriedly, she glanced at the door. "Keep your voice down. You're not supposed to be back here. I'm already going to be in trouble with the manager after your little freak attack out there."

I sighed. "Sorry."

She passed over the backpack. It was a little bigger and heavier than it had appeared at a distance and I held my breath as I grasped the zipper. It was cool to the touch and my hand froze. Was I ready for this?

"Is the zipper stuck?" Keilana started to reach for the pack, frowning. "I need a new bag."

"No, it's okay." I drew in a deep breath. Please, God, don't let there be body parts stored in Tupperware in here. As I unzipped the zipper and blindly stuck my hand inside, a flash of going to a nature center as a kid and reaching into a small hole in a wooden box to feel some sort of surprise, tore through my mind. It was always fur or antlers, by the way. Somehow I doubted that would be the case here.

I blinked. "Electronic equipment?" I flipped open the bag, exposing the mystery to the light. It was jammed with cameras, tiny video recorders, cords, a mini tape recorder, the smallest laptop I'd ever seen, and some loose batteries. What the hell was this? "You're making porn out of this pack?"

"No!" She looked at me like I was crazy. Which I'm not. I think. "Jesus Christ, Cadie, do you always imagine the most horrible situation possible and then put me in it?"

Of course. "Maybe," I said a touch defensively.

She hesitated for just a second, then let out a little breath, apparently having come to her decision. Her eyes blazed with sudden determination. "I want to be a documentarian and I'm making my first film. It's about strippers and Billie is pretty much my prime interview, though there are several other women in it too."

She scrunched up her face. "They were from some really seedy clubs down the road. The filming played havoc with my school schedule and nearly killed me. Thank God I finished it just before summer. Things here this semester have been a piece of cake in comparison."

"A filmmaker? That can't be true!" I shook my head wildly, unable to accept what she was saying.

"Shh! The manager lets me shoot back here, but at his discretion ... and after I bribe him on a regular basis. If he cuts me off this close to the end of production I'm screwed."

"But you were on stage. You weren't just filming. You were the woman in red!" My mind drifted back to Keilana appearing out the mist. "The sizzling hot woman in red that I would still love to eat alive," I added, hoping that didn't sound as lecherous out loud as it had in my head.

This time it was her turn to blush. "Hold that thought, okay?"

I leaned forward and kissed her softly. She smelled incredible and I was still so keyed up from the show that I was about ready to explode. I don't know where I found the willpower to break that kiss. "Don't worry, I won't forget."

I held up the bag to remind Keilana I was still waiting for more of an explanation.

She quirked a grin and shook her finger at me. "Don't kiss me like that if you expect me to be able to think."

This time it was me that smiled. "Deal."

"Billie's been after me for months to learn one of the routines and perform so I'd really know what it feels like to be up on stage. I've been gathering my nerve and practicing the dancing. Tonight a couple of girls called off work so the club really needed someone to fill in. I umm ..." She paused to let out a shaky breath. "I wasn't going to get totally naked up there but my top was supposed to come off right at the end of the show."

I closed my eyes, half aroused by what she was telling me, the other half blessedly relieved that I stopped her in time. Keilana was too smart not to later regret something so stupid. I wanted to throttle Billie for even suggesting it.

"I got a taste of what Billie does up there everyday and I gotta tell you, it's a lot different being up on than stage than it is watching."

I squeezed her hand, wincing at the mild sting from my scraps. "And?"

"And it was a lot scary and a little intoxicating and something I don't want to do again. It was a stupid idea that I should have never agreed to in the first place."

"True."

She crossed slender arms over her chest and lifted her chin. "You don't have to be so smug about it."

"How would you feel if I got up on that stage and did that same dance with Billie?"

The tiny, but instant, growl that exploded from her throat surprised me, but it wasn't an unhappy surprise. "Eww ... Okay, so I see your point."

I zipped the bag closed and handed it back to her, careful not to drop it. I'd have to sell a kidney to replace even one those cameras.

I didn't know what to think about everything that had happened. I'd been expecting something horrible for so long that now that it hadn't happened, I wasn't sure how to act or how to feel.

"Are you okay?" she asked me, clearly concerned.

I blew my hair out of my eyes. "Yeah. I ... It's just been a long day."

"No kidding."

I still felt uneasy. "Why didn't you tell me what you were doing? There's nothing wrong with making a documentary. I still don't understand why you'd hide it?"

Dismayed, she trained her gaze on my dirty shoes. "My parents, Cadie, they aren't like most people's parents. They're control freaks. I mean real control freaks."

That was, unfortunately, completely true. I was living proof. "What does that have to do with me?"

Sadly, she glanced up at me. "They know I don't want to go back to Honolulu and work for Poppenhouse Cookies Charitable Giving Headquarters. That's the job my dad has all picked out for me."

My eyes went round. "You told them about this movie project?"

She gave me a lopsided grin. "Get real, okay? I told them I wanted to go to film school, and they said no. I told them I wanted to make documentaries. They said no. I told my mother I wouldn't marry Mr. Right, who they've had picked out for me since I was three years old, and they ignored me. They're selectively deaf! I wasn't far from graduating so I figured I'd do my best to get through school on their dime and then do whatever it is I want afterward."

"I still don't—"

She placed two fingers over my lips. "I'm still talking."

Contrite, I nodded.

"Last year my grades started to slip. I was out all hours of the night and some of the girls I was filming, well, let's just say they lived a little wilder life than I could keep up with." She smiled sheepishly. "Though for a while I gave it the good old college try. I kept what I was doing from my parents and used my allowance to finance my project. One day while I was on the phone with my mother, she let slip that she knew I was spending a lot of time in San Diego."

Uh-oh. "How did she know that?"

"That's a very good question. And the only answer that makes sense is that she paid some parasite to spy on me."

I felt like taking a bath in lye.

"I know it sounds crazy, but it's true! One day I realized that I was being followed."

All the blood drained from my face. "You were?" I managed weakly.

"Yeah, by some guy. Ever since then I've kept what I'm doing a total secret. My life at school and my work here never cross paths. I can't let them and hope to be able to keep doing what I'm doing.

I know it's stupid, especially since I was one of the parasites, but I still felt hurt that she didn't tell me what she was up to. She spoke with such passion about her project, this was something important to her, and so it was important to me too.

She caught my expression and gentled her voice, "Cadie, I've thought about telling you a dozen times, but you don't know my parents. If they wanted information out of you or believed you could be of some use to them, they'd make your life a living hell until they got it."

I forced a snort. "You make them sound like the mafia." Oh, crap. Please don't let them be the Hawaiian mob.

"They aren't the mafia," she said grimly. "They just get what they want, no matter who they hurt in the process."

They wouldn't get what they wanted this time. My knees started to shake. "Keilana, there's something I have to tell you."

"Keilana!" Billie began to bang on the door. "Are you in there?"

"Just a minute" Keilana called out. "Hide!" she said to me, and began pushing me toward the closet. "Billie's already jealous of you and she went out on a limb to get me on stage. If she sees you in here she's gonna go crazy and call the goons."

I dug in my heels. "So? They'll just tell me to go, no big deal." Okay, they'd probably toss me on my head this time, but that didn't mean I was going to give in.

"So I'll have to re-shoot weeks of film if she pulls out of this project," she hissed. "In the closet with you."

"But Keilana—"

She grasped my face and kissed me with purpose. It was short but smoking hot and I actually whimpered when she stopped. "That seems to be the best way to shut you up." Her grin took the sting from the words.

"You have a way to get home right?" she asked quickly. "And then you can tell me why you're hanging out in strip clubs. If you're in love with me shouldn't you be home knitting me dinner or something?"

A tiny laugh exploded from me, but my smile soon faded. "I promise to explain absolutely everything at home."

A crease appeared on her forehead and she touched my face with aching tenderness. "What's the matter?"

Billie was banging on the door again but I had Keilana's full attention. I could hardly keep from crying. "I always keep my promises."

She shook her head. "I don't understand."

Billie's banging grew even louder. "Keilana, c'mon. I need those gloves I lent you for my next number!"

"It's nothing," I said valiantly, doing my best to look like I wasn't dying inside.

"Okay, I gotta go start filming." She grabbed Billie's gloves from the small dressing room table. "I know they told me to go home, but Billie's trying a new G-string tonight."

My eyebrows jumped.

"Don't ask." She rolled her eyes. "Just be careful sneaking out of here, okay?" She smiled at me and my heart melted. Then she kissed her fingers and pressed them to the tip of my nose. "Until tonight."

I'd never hated my job so much.

CHAPTER EIGHT

SNEAKING OUT WASN'T as easy as I thought it'd be. In fact, it was nearly two hours before I could get out of that damn dressing room. One of the strippers decided to have a meltdown right outside the door and I was trapped there like the rat that I am. I didn't bother to drive back to my apartment and trade cars. Tonight I would tell Keilana everything and my days of driving around in snazzy Jaguars would be over.

It was nearly midnight by the time I made it back to campus. I pulled into the spot next to Keilana's BMW. She probably was wondering where I was. Even so, I couldn't bring myself to hurry. I leaned forward and rested my head on the steering wheel. The cool metal of the cross bars felt surprisingly good against my forehead, but did nothing to ease my nervous stomach.

What could I tell her that would keep her from hating me? I already hated myself so badly I could barely stand it.

For a moment I toyed with the idea of just not telling her at all. It's not too late, my evil side urged. But deep down I knew I couldn't do that. Besides, things were different now. I wanted to be with her and she wanted to be with me. A goofy grin interrupted my self-loathing. She was in love with me!

I felt fantastic and horrible all at the same time. Okay, she might have said she was falling in love with me. But I could work with that. She might not realize it now, but when I'm not being a disgusting, traitorous spy, I'm really a loyal, downright lovable person.

If she truly cared for me, surely I could convince her to forgive me, right? I was willing to accept her as a prostitute or druggie or whatever trouble she'd gotten herself into. If I could do that, this wouldn't be an impossible leap for her.

I nodded once, screwing up my courage as I exited the car and stood on Jell-O legs.

"Okay, Belinda, please don't fuck this up," I murmured into the breeze.

"Please."

Slowly, very slowly, I headed up the path toward our cottage. Most of the other residences were dark, but there was a golden light coming from the living room window. She'd waited up for me. I wasn't sure whether to be flattered or to turn around and run.

Since when had my feet grown so heavy? It felt as though I was slogging through a mud pit. Uphill.

I let out few shaky breaths as I inserted my key into the lock, a little surprised to find that it wasn't locked.

"I'm home," I said quietly as I took a tentative step inside. I didn't turn on the lights in case she was asleep on the sofa and I had been granted a temporary reprieve. There were worse ways to spend a night than watching someone as special as Keilana sleep.

But my roomie was not only awake, she was sitting across the room on the sofa, holding something in her hands. Her head was down and the wan light cast long shadows across her face. Something was wrong. "Hi, Kei—"

She glanced up at me and I saw a glistening streak trail down her cheek. My stomach lurched.

"Hello, Belinda," she said softly, chilling me to the bone. "Or should I say Ms. Blaisdell?"

I felt as though I'd been shot in the chest. In her hands she held my case notebook.

"Oh my God." A cold sweat broke out across my body, causing me to tremble. "You weren't supposed to find ... That's private." I hadn't left my notebook out! How had she found it?

From behind Keilana and out the shadows stepped her mountain of a mother. "I think you should go, Ms. Blaisdell." It wasn't a request. It was an order.

Incredulous, I blurted, "You just ... what are you doing here?"

"Belinda." My head snapped sideways to see Russ standing in the kitchen. I could hardly breathe. "What the hell are you doing here?" My gaze flickered around the tiny cottage. Who else was going to pop out of nowhere? Was I the last person to be let in on some sick joke?

"C'mere. We need to talk." He cast uneasy eyes on Keilana and her mother and then took a few steps forward to reach out for me. "They need a few minutes to themselves."

Keilana had a vacant look in her eyes and Mrs. Poppenhouse laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Yes, we need another moment."

"No!" I jerked my arm away. "I'll deal with you later, Russ. I need to talk to Keilana now." I turned back toward her only to have Russ lift me off my feet and bodily haul me into the kitchen like I was a sack of potatoes. That was the second time that had happened tonight and this time pissed me off even more than the first. "Let the fuck go of me!" I screeched, elbowing him hard in the back to hear the air rush out of his lungs. "Dammit Russ! Let me go!"

"No," he grunted, sitting me down hard on the kitchen cabinet and out of sight of Keilana and her mother. "Did you need to hit me?" Scowling, he reached for his back. "Jesus! I have to tell you something before you go in there."

"Didn't you hear what I said?" I snapped angrily. "I can't talk to you now." I needed to go to her.

"Listen to me!" He grabbed both of my hands and held them hard.

I bared my teeth. Who did he think he was? First nosing incessantly in my business and now telling me what to do? He was pushing his luck even as my best friend. "Say what you have to say fast and then get out."

Hesitantly, he let go of my hands. "Just listen for a minute. Mrs. Poppenhouse showed up out of the blue tonight."

"Why were you here anyway?" I was instantly sorry that I'd ask the question. I didn't care nor have time to hear his answer. "Never mind. Tell me later." I could see the perspiration beading on his upper lip and felt my dread grow exponentially.

"I was in the house when she came through the front door. I didn't know she was coming," he said, rubbing his forehead, something he only did when he was very upset. "If I had I would have tried to stop her or warn you or something. I swear to God." The words were flying out of his mouth so quickly that I could barely understand him.

"You came in the house after you lost Keilana? I thought you were going home?"

He blew out a nervous breath and lifted his hand only to let it limply fall. "You don't understand. I never followed Keilana tonight. I was happy to have her out of the house so that it would be easier to break in. You guys hardly ever leave this place. You have no life!"

My mouth worked ineffectually for a few confused seconds as I tried desperately to put things together. "You lied to me and then broke into our house?"

Russ's voice was trembling. "Oh, Jesus, Belinda, I don't know how else to do this, so I'll just say it. I've been working for Mrs. Poppenhouse for weeks."

I gave him a part bewildered, part angry look. "They brought in a second P.I.?" Why hadn't he just told me? I was mad, but Russ was the least of my concerns at the moment. "You've been watching Keilana too and didn't bother to tell me? You suck, Russ. But I have to talk to her now. Go home."

His gaze dropped to the countertop. "No." He swallowed hard. "I've been watching you."

I just stared at him, knowing he couldn't have said what I thought he said. A painful silence thundered between us and he squirmed under the weight of my stare. "What ... what did you just say?"

He closed his eyes.

"Russ?" the urgency in my voice grew.

"Your reports to the Poppenhouses started to change after a couple of weeks. I saw them, Belinda. You all but told Mr. and Mrs. Poppenhouse to go to hell for being bad parents. And then you went on and on about what potential Keilana had and how she was such a good person. Mrs. Poppenhouse got worried and called me." He winced. "She thought you might be trying to take advantage of Keilana's vulnerable state."

"Take advantage?" Had everyone lost their mind? Wasn't I already taking advantage of our friendship to pump her for information? Did they think I was a rapist too? "What vulnerable state?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, but she was worried you two might become ..."—he lowered his voice as though this part was somehow worse than the rest—"involved with each other. Mr. Poppenhouse doesn't have a clue that his daughter is into girls and Mrs. Poppenhouse wants to keep it that way."

"What are you talking about!" I roared. My best friend was spying on me? None of this made any sense. I shook my head wildly, unable to process what he was saying. "Forget it. I don't give a shit right now." I jumped down off the counter. I couldn't think about him now anyway. I had to talk to Keilana. I had to explain things to her so she could move past this and forgive me.

"Please wait." He blocked my path. "There's more," he said quickly. "Your casebook. Or journal or whatever. I'm sorry, Belinda, I've been breaking in and making copies of the entries for Mrs. Poppenhouse since last month."

My feet froze and my mouth fell open.

Seeing the look on my face, he began to panic. "I didn't want to, but you mentioned the notebook in one your reports and she insisted on seeing it! I tried to warn you not to get hooked on Keilana. I tried!" He threw his hands in the air. "I had no idea you'd put how you felt about her on paper. It was mixed in with everything else. I couldn't even erase the damn stuff." He grabbed his head as though it might somehow fly off his neck. "What were you thinking?"

"You son of a bitch," I hissed, the sour taste of betrayal erupting from my belly and making me ill. I looked him square in the eye, my breath coming in harsh pants. "You're supposed to be my best friend!"

My hurt and rage felt like a liquid heat, invading every pore of my body, and seeping into my blood with every furious beat of my heart. My voice was so deep and calm, that I didn't even recognize it. "Get out of my way right this fucking second, Russ. Or so help me, God"—I was shaking—"I will tear right through you."

I was deadly serious and his back straightened as my words registered. "Belinda, I'm sorry." He spread his hands out in entreaty. "I just need to explain. Please—"

I took a menacing step forward and his hands flew up to guard himself.

The desire to strangle him was growing into something more than I could bear. "Do you even know what you've done to me ... to Keilana?"

He looked at me with uncomprehending eyes. "But it's just a case," he said weakly. "Just a crush on a pretty girl." When I didn't answer, he paled. "Isn't it?"

"Where's my fucking dog?"

He started at my wild change in subjects. "Why do you want ... I mean, he's in the car. I took him with me tonight because he chewed a hole our carpet and Sarah—"

"Bring him back!" I demanded, taking a fistful of his shirt and then using it to shove him as far away as I could. "And then get as far away from me as you can!"

He stumbled back a few steps, looking stricken. "Just let me talk. Please." Stupidly, he moved back in front of me. "I can explain. There's more—"

I covered my ears with my hands and bent at the waist as I yelled, "I don't want to hear anymore!" Then I barreled into him with my strength, my shoulder impacting his mid-section with stunning force. We flew into the kitchen wall and his head hit hard, breaking an enormous hole in the plaster that our falling bodies made even bigger.

Stunned by the impact of the fall and what he'd just revealed, I scrambled off him and stumbled into the living room. Keilana was still sitting lifelessly on the sofa. She glanced up and then looked at me as though I were a stranger.

"You have to listen to me." I tried not to think about how Russ had just said the same thing and how I would just as soon kill him as comply. "You only think you don't know me." I dropped to my knees in front of her, ignoring Mrs. Poppenhouse, who was looking down at me in fear and shock. "But you do know me," I swore fervently. "Everything I said tonight was true. I do love you."

Keilana's mother audibly groaned.

"I promise I do," I continued desperately. Carefully, I took my case notebook out of Keilana's hands and held it up before her. "You know how I feel about you. You know how hard this has been. It's all in here. I started this to help the Poppenhouses ..." It was time for the brutal truth. "And for the money. But it hasn't been about getting paid in a long time."

Disgusted, Keilana looked away.

I'd never felt so small. "I thought you might need my help. It's all in here." Gently, I sat the notebook back in her lap.

Vaguely, I heard the front door open, then slam shut as Russ left.

"Cadie or—" she stopped and swallowed a few times. She was barely holding it together. "Or whoever you are."

That was a knife in my heart.

"I didn't read this." She picked up the notebook and threw it across the room in a fit of rage. "I couldn't read it and not go insane! When I came home tonight my wonderful mother," she said the last word as though it were a curse, "and her other little spy filled me in on who you really are. I already know more than enough, thank you."

My eyes jerked upward to Mrs. Poppenhouse. "Tell her why you hired me."

She just stared down at me with dark, wide eyes.

"Tell her!" I demanded when she didn't answer quickly enough.

"I told her," Mrs. Poppenhouse finally said. She shifted uncomfortably, looking as though she wanted to step farther away from me.

Was she actually afraid of me? Good.

"Your father and I were worried about you, Keilana. We couldn't just do nothing while you failed out of school and did God only knows what else."

Keilana shot to her feet, knocking me backward in the process. "Stop making excuses." Furious, she pointed at me. "You hired her so you could control my life just like always! How I act. Where I work. Who I marry. Who I sleep with. Where I live. You want to pick it all!"

Good for her. I was proud of her for sticking up to her mother. This was a good sign. Her anger was something I could deal with, something I deserved, and at least she was still talking.

"That's not true, Keilana," Mrs. Poppenhouse insisted, her face reddening with barely suppressed anger. "Despite what you think, you are still a child. And you don't always know what's best for you."

"What makes you"—blazing blue eyes swung down and bore into me with frightening intensity—"or you, think you know what's best for me? I won't be controlled or manipulated anymore." She fixed her stare on her mother. "It's my life and you can't have it."

"I'm your mother," Mrs. Poppenhouse said simply, as though that explained everything. "I'm staying at the Westgate Hotel. We'll talk tomorrow when you're able to be more reasonable and respectful."

Then she glanced down at me like I was a piece of garbage. "Kale needn't know about ..."—she gestured vaguely between Keilana and me—"the two of you."

Gee, how nice of her, seeing as how she's all about family unity and support.

Mrs. Poppenhouse's eyes narrowed. "Don't think that you'll be getting paid for your services after what you've done."

Happy to finally be saying it, I snarled, "You can keep every penny of your stinking money and kiss my sweet ass."

Keilana snorted derisively. "Looks like next time you hire a lap dog, Mother, you'd better find a more obedient one."

I winced.

Mrs. Poppenhouse puffed out her enormous chest. Luckily I was still sitting on my butt, reducing my chances at being blinded. "Give Keilana the keys to the cottage and the Jaguar and have your things out of here in the next half hour or I'll have the campus police arrest you." Then she marched out of our cottage as though she owned the place.

Come to think of it, she might.

In just a few seconds Keilana and I were alone.

I didn't know where to start, I only knew this might be last chance and I couldn't waste it. Her breathing sounded abnormally loud and then I realized it was my own.

"Keilana," I began tentatively, wanting with all my heart to pull her into a hug and make every bit of the mess I'd caused vanish. "I made a mistake. A horrible mistake. I didn't know you when I took this job. I didn't do it to hurt you. I did it to help us both. I'm so, so sorry I wasn't honest with you. I-I don't know what else to say! Forgive me. Please."

Keilana laughed callously and it was like an Arctic blast rolling through the room. "Forgive you?" This close to her I could see how bloodshot and glassy her eyes were. She'd been crying. A lot. "You lied to me again and again. You used me!"

I wished with every ounce of my being that I could deny that. But I couldn't. "I know I did. I don't have an excuse. I got in so deep that there was no good way out. I was going to tell you everything tonight. I couldn't stand having this between us anymore." I searched for something else to say, for a way to redeem myself, but there wasn't one.

I studied Keilana for a long moment. Oh, God, she wasn't going to forgive me. I could see it in her eyes and I felt like throwing up. "I'm not a bad person. Please believe me. I'm so, so sorry." I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to the ward off the pain that was making it hard to breathe or think or ...

"You betrayed me." She started to cry again and I felt like I wanted to die. "I trusted you."

"Keilana—"

The cries turned into sobs. "I believed you were my friend. I t-told you things. I confided in you and you tr-tricked me!"

Oh, Jesus, I really was going to be sick. I swallowed hard, then remembered my case notebook. Frantically, I crawled over to it and picked it up. "I know you don't believe anything I'm saying to you now. And I don't blame you." I held it up. "But I never thought you'd see this. It was locked away and meant for my eyes only. You have to believe this if nothing else! I wasn't lying to myself. Read it and you'll know everything."

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I already told you that I know enough."

Stunned and sick, I sat back on my heels. "Things don't have to end like this for us." Now I was crying too. "You can decide to forgive me."

Just then the front door opened and Smelly shot over to me like a bullet, flying into my arms. I hugged him tightly against me, letting him lick my salty face and drawing comfort from the only friend I had left. "You have to believe me."

She sniffed a few times and whispered, "Don't you get it? I do believe you." She smiled sadly and looked away. "I just can't trust you." She paused. "So what's the point?"

"We would be the point!"

"There is no we or us, Cad— Belinda." She let out an unsteady, but resolved breath, and looked at me with heartsick eyes. "There's only lies."

I blinked stupidly. This couldn't just be the end, could it?

She stood up and slowly walked to the bathroom. "Leave your keys on the table."

It was a chilly Sunday afternoon in November when I taped shut the last cardboard box and glumly looked around my office. It hadn't been impressive before, but I'd done my best to make it appear inviting and professional. Now, with everything packed up and its white walls naked, it looked downright depressing.

True to my word, I'd returned the Poppenhouses first couple of paychecks. I'd even paid them back for their expensive haircut and the designer clothes I hated. True to what Mrs. Poppenhouse had said, they hadn't paid me for my final couple weeks of work. That meant I couldn't make October or November's office rent.

So, with no jobs looming on the immediate horizon, Blaisdell Investigations was moving. Where? I still wasn't sure.

I sat down and dug a screwdriver out of my toolbox so that I could pry my nameplate from the placard outside the front door when someone came knocking. I'd glanced up and felt a sense of familiarity wash over me. I'd seen that shadowy silhouette through the privacy glass hundreds of times. But this was the first time it wasn't welcome.

"I know you're in there," Russ called out, rapping loudly. "Let me in, will ya?"

"Fuck off," I yelled back.

It had been weeks since I'd said more than that to him and I saw no reason to spoil my perfect streak now. My anger had cooled, but the hurt was still there. Keilana wouldn't talk to me and I wouldn't talk to Russ. All the rotten bastards I knew were getting just what they deserved.

Russ rapped sharply on the glass. So hard, in fact, I figured it would shatter at any moment. "I'm not the tenant anymore, Russ. You can break the glass for all I care."

"Belinda," he groaned, "enough with this horse shit. Just let me in. Please?"

I don't know what compelled me to open the door. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to have anything to do with the two-faced traitor. And yet, I found myself at my door, flicking open the deadbolt.

"Finally!" He rushed inside and wrapped me in tight hug before I could move away. I bit my lower lip as I forced my arms to stay at my sides. I'm not one of those people who holds a grudge forever. My anger burns hot and then when I can think straight, I can usually forgive. But I wasn't ready to return Russ's hug.

He released me with a frustrated, slightly wounded look.

"Why are you here, Russ?"

He tilted his head to the side. "Why am I here? Why do you think? I want us to be friends again. I want us to hang out and surf and laugh and for you to come over to my house for dinner. I want you to forgive me."

"No."

"How can you say that? How can you stand there and be so unyielding when I'm asking less from you than you are from Keilana. I don't even want lesbian sex!" He gave me a sheepish grin. "Well, okay, I do, but I can live without it if I have to."

I didn't want to smile. I didn't.

"Aha! I saw that!" Beaming, he pointed at my face. "I saw that. You smiled."

I scowled. "You saw nothing."

"Did too." He let out a relieved breath. "You smiled. You're forgiving me even though you don't want to. I'm wearing you down with my groveling and charm."

I walked over and sat down on my desk, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. "Just because I smiled, doesn't mean we're friends anymore. We're not. Friends, I mean."

He sat down next to me. "You're wrong," he said softly.

I blinked. "Are you saying I don't know who my own friends are?"

"Yeah." He nodded and shrugged broad shoulders. "Pretty much."

My eyes turned to slits. "I hate you."

"And sometimes I hate you. That's how it is with us. Doesn't mean we aren't friends. It just means we're twisted."

I socked him in the arm. Hard.

"Ow!" He made as face as he rubbed his bicep. "That hurt!"

"You spied on a friend! On me. How can I trust you after that? You screwed me for money!"

He looked stricken. "I didn't think I was screwing you. I thought it was an easy job and that I would be able to get you to see that what I'd done wasn't such a big deal. I thought that right now we'd be planning a trip to Australia to catch the perfect wave. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"And you say I'm wrong a lot?" I gestured crazily. "You're ... you're ... wronger than me!"

"Wronger?"

"Eat shit and die, Russ."

He turned to face me and gazed at me with puppy dog eyes, the soft sweet ones that I couldn't resist all those years ago. "See how much fun we're having?" he said. "Tell me you can live without this."

I had missed him. And I didn't want to live without our friendship. But still ... he'd invaded my privacy and made a bad situation ten times worse. "Stop cracking jokes. This is serious."

"I know it's serious. But if I don't laugh, then I'll cry, and you'll call me a girly man again!" His gaze turned beseeching. "I'm desperate here, Belinda."

He did look on the verge of tears. And I would have called him a girly man.

"Just give me another chance not to screw up, okay?"

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. "I don't think I can."

"You want Keilana to forgive you but you can't forgive me? Why is this so different?"

"I guess doing the forgiving is a helluva lot harder than asking for it. And this isn't like what happened with Keilana and me! You and I have been friends since I first started as a P.I. You weren't trying to help me by spying on me, you were trying to help yourself. You screwed a friend, not a stranger!"

"Fine." He held his hands up in a placating gesture. "I was trying to help myself. I know it sounds crazy, but I didn't think this was that big of a deal when I agreed to do it. It seemed more like harmless snooping for an obscene amount of money." He ran his hands through his short hair. "I'm sorry and I was wrong."

"I hope whatever you bought with the money breaks."

"I was trying to help you too."

My eyes widened. "Oh, sure you were," I said sarcastically. "How are you going to help me next? Shoot me in head?"

Russ began counting his fingers. "I was helping you keep your job, smartass. I was doing my best to keep Mrs. Poppenhouse off your back. I was trying to be there to remind you what a bad idea it would be to get involved with Keilana so you wouldn't get yourself into a mess you couldn't get out of. I—"

"You read my case notes! You knew I was in love with her."

"I didn't." He let out an exasperated groan. "I tried to tell you all this that night, but you were so hell-bent on talking to Keilana that you wouldn't give me a chance. I checked out your notes the first time I copied them and then not again until the night Mrs. Poppenhouse showed up. The first time I looked at them one or two personal comments and that's it. It was no big deal and all businesslike. I didn't think you were going to add some sort of weird running narrative!"

I rested my head against my knees. "Looks like you were wrong again."

"I think we covered that."

"Not enough, Russ."

He scrubbed his face and sighed. "I messed up bad. I hurt you. I'm sorry. I love you and don't want to lose you." All traces of teasing were gone. "You can trust me."

I snickered.

"You can! I know what I did was wrong and it won't ever happen again. I've learned my lesson. Being without my best friend sucks."

I studied him intently, and despite not wanting to, I found myself believing his words. Russ wasn't a complicated guy and even though he had horrible judgment at times, he tried his best to be honest. "It's going to take some time, Russ. No promises."

His face lit up like a Christmas tree. "I understand. And I'm going to work to make things up to you. Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet. I'm still pissed."

He tried to smile. "I know." He reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a white envelope. "But I'm going to earn back your trust and make things right. And this is how I want to start." He handed it over. "Here."

I looked at the envelope, and then back at him. "What's this?"

"Two things. First, inside is a receipt for three months' rent for this place. You're paid through New Year's." He glanced around. "Sorry I didn't catch you before you took down your pictures."

"Russ!" I started to jump off the desk but he held me back.

"Don't bother saying you can't accept it, because it's already done and I can't get the money back now anyway. The place is yours."

Dumbfounded, I just stared at what was in my hands. "You can't afford to help me." Three months' rent was close to ten thousand dollars. My office was small but the location was choice and brought in business all on its own. "You're saving for a house."

"I can't afford not to do this," he said seriously. "Besides, even though I messed up, I do know the right thing to do when I see it. And this is it. You're like a sister to me, Belinda. Family sticks together when it rains shit."

My back stiffened as a nasty thought crossed my mind. "I won't take the money the Poppenhouses paid you." My eyes glinted dangerously.

The corner of his mouth shot upward. "Stubborn to the end, eh? This isn't their money. I know how you'd feel about that."

My jaw worked. Russ knew how much my business meant to me. He also knew that my brother was just scraping by and that my parents were retired and living on a very modest fixed income. I didn't have anywhere else to turn. "What does Sarah think about this?" I turned the envelope over in my hands. "This is a lot of money."

"It was her idea." He waggled a finger at me. "But I get credit for being married to her and having the sense to agree with her."

I snorted. "She called me last week and begged me to take you back." I smiled a little. "Apparently you're spending way too much time at home on the weekends and in the evenings, and she's about ready to drink poison."

"The women in my life are all evil," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"I dunno, Russ. I'm not even sure I should be speaking to you, much less taking your money."

"If the positions were reversed would you do it for me?"

"You know I would. But—"

He took my hand in his and squeezed. "Please don't be too proud or angry to accept my help. You'll always be my best friend, even if I'm not always as good a friend as you deserve."

I didn't know what to say so I settled on a hoarse, "Thanks." I cleared my throat a little and focused on the envelope. "You said there were two things in here? Is the other a pony? 'Cause I've always wanted a pony."

"Go on." He nudged my foot with his. "Open it."

I did, blinking slowly when I saw what was inside. "A plane ticket?"

"Uh-huh. To Hawaii."

My heart lurched. Keilana.

"She's there visiting her grandmother while she's on Thanksgiving break."

I shot him a look and he braced himself as though I might take a swing at him.

"Don't go crazy, Jesus! I'm not spying on her or anything. I went to Madonna Del Mar and knocked on her door like a regular person. She's got a new roommate, by the way, ugliest girl I've ever seen, and that's who told me where she was."

I closed my eyes. "She won't talk to me, Russ." I wanted to cry, something I hadn't done in what? Hours? "I've tried a dozen times. I've emailed, I've called, and I've shown up at her door only to have it slammed in my face again and again. The campus police know my car and towed it last time!"

He looked surprised and just a little disappointed. "So you're giving up on her then?"

My expression sobered. "No way. I'm just ... just ..."

He bumped my shoulder with his and looked straight ahead to give me a little privacy as my eyes teared up. "Regrouping?"

"Floundering!" God, it felt good to be talking to him again. It would take some time, but we'd be okay. We always were. "I'm miserable without her."

"So don't be without her."

I blew out an annoyed breath. "It's not that easy. You know that."

"Of course it's not. But it's not getting any easier with you here and her hundreds of miles away." He paused.

I could tell he wanted to say something but was holding back. I would probably be sorry I asked, but as usual, I couldn't help myself. "What?"

"Is she the one?"

He didn't have to say more for me to know exactly what he meant. Sarah was the one for him. Anyone who knew him could see that that was true. They fought like cats and dogs, but in a way that most people really couldn't understand, they completed each other.

Was Keilana Poppenhouse, that willful, guarded, intelligent, witty, kind young woman the one for me? I thought about the sort of person she was deep down inside and the way I felt just being near her. I turned to look at Russ. "I think she might be, but I never got the chance to find out."

"Well, then." He jumped down from my desk and brushed his hands off on his jeans. "What are you waiting for?"

Good question.

A warm, fragrant breeze blew off the water and ruffled my hair as I approached Keilana's grandmother's house. It had taken me two plane trips and a short boat trip to get to this tiny island, whose name I'd already forgotten. The boat driver had given me simple directions to stop at the first house I found, and I was finally here.

The house itself was at least seventy years old and the grounds were lush and beautiful. They overflowed with colorful flowers and plants that were a dozen shades of green. It wasn't as opulent as I'd expected though. There were no gates or servants manning the driveway or guard dogs. It was just a charming old house that was clearly well-maintained and loved.

To be honest, I hadn't expected this level of moderation from anyone in the Poppenhouse family, even Keilana.

I held my breath as I knocked at the door. I hadn't eaten anything since the day before because I was so nervous I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep it down. Now, however, I was a little lightheaded and hadn't even seen her yet!

The door opened and I found myself looking at a white-haired woman with weathered dark skin and lively eyes as black as coal. She was old but it was impossible to tell just how old. "Hello," she said.

She couldn't have been more than five feet tall! "How in the world did you have a baby that huge?" I exclaimed. Then I froze, mortified that my thoughts tumbled from my brain to my mouth with no stops in between. I felt my face heat and I clamped my hand over my mouth before I could humiliate myself again. "Oh, God," I said through my fingers. Carefully, I peeled away my hand. "I'm so sorry. I—"

But to my relief, she just laughed. "I guess you've met my son Kale. And, yes, it wasn't easy, he was nearly eleven pounds!" She smiled at me, warm but cautious. "You must be Ms. Blaisdell."

I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the next. "You know about me?" I glanced behind her in case I was wrong about the guard dogs and I was about to become breakfast.

"I do indeed." She stepped aside. "Keilana mentioned that she had a falling out with her roommate."

Whew. "Yes, that's what's happened." I hesitated even though I desperately wanted to talk to Keilana. I knew my unannounced visit was rude. "I apologize for coming by so early."

"Nonsense. Besides, you've already been sitting at the foot of my driveway for three hours. I was starting to wonder if you'd ever come up."

I wanted to crawl under a rock.

"You two must have had some argument. Especially if it brought you all the way to my tiny island."

"That's an understatement." She was being so polite and understanding and so unlike Kale Poppenhouse or his wife. Maybe she was adopted too?

I set my small travel bag on the porch and stepped just inside the doorway. The house smelled like coffee and toast. Yum. "Mrs. Poppenhouse—"

"You can call me Malipeloku."

My eyes went a little wide with panic. "Umm ... I don't think I can!"

She laughed heartily. "Keilana said you were funny."

I licked my lips, covertly glancing around. "Speaking of Keilana, is she here? I'd like to speak with her, please."

She gave me a thorough once over before deciding what to tell me. "She's reading on the beach. Would you like to have some coffee and bring Keilana hers? I just made a fresh pot and was about to walk it down the beach myself."

Relief washed over me. "Yes. I'd be glad to bring her some coffee."

I followed Mrs. Poppenhouse into the kitchen and sat down at a small breakfast bar while she carefully took three large cups from the cupboard. She filled them in silence and passed two of them over to me.

I took the cups, hoping my hands weren't twitching as badly as I feared. "Which way do I go?"

She opened the kitchen door, allowing the bright sunlight to pour over me. "Turn left and keep walking until you see her."

Gingerly, I took a sip of my hot coffee so I'd have less chance of spilling it down my shirt as I stepped out onto the sand.

"Ms. Blaisdell?"

I turned back and raised my eyebrows in question.

"Don't blow it."

Our eyes met and I got the distinct impression that she was holding out on me. "I won't."

I can't.

The beach was deserted and I began to think that when Keilana's grandmother had said "my" island, she'd really meant it. The fresh air felt nice against my bare legs and arms and the wind fluttered my T-shirt. I pushed off my shoes after a few hundred feet, wanting the comforting feeling of the sand between my toes.

It was at least fifteen minutes before I saw her, sitting under a short palm tree on a soft blanket in the sand. She was beautiful and I drank in the sight of her, my heart racing with fear and anticipation. I guess it wasn't broken after all. I'd known I was missing her. How could I not? But it wasn't until that very moment that I realized just how much.

I got within twenty feet of her before she glanced up at me. She did a double take, and startled, she dropped her book.

"Hi," I said softly, joining her on her blanket without waiting for an invitation.

"Cad— I mean, Ms., I mean Belin ... ugh." Confused, she finally gave up stumbling over my name. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"I didn't do anything shady." I nearly tacked on "I promise" but I suspected my promises wouldn't mean much to her at the moment. "Your roommate told my friend where you'd gone for Thanksgiving break and then he told me. But it was your Granny who gave me directions to this spot on the beach, if that's what you mean."

I took in our surroundings, giving her few minutes to adjust to my presence. She still looked shocked. "This is beautiful."

"It is."

When I turned back to her, I caught her staring right at me and she quickly looked away. "You're growing out your hair. It looks pretty," she murmured, a little embarrassed.

A kernel of hope ignited inside me. "Thanks. This is for you." I held up her cup that was now lukewarm at best, the aroma of the beans mingling with the fresh scent of the ocean.

Gingerly, she took it, still unwilling to look me in the eye. "Thanks." She took a sip and then set it back down on the sand next to mine, the glass clinking gently.

Well, at least she hadn't told me to go to hell yet. That was an improvement over the first dozen times I'd tried to talk to her since that night.

She gazed out at the water and I couldn't help but think of our trip to the beach at Del Mar and how close I'd felt to her that day, and how awkward things felt now. I had more regrets than I knew what to do with.

"When are you going to give up?" she asked, unconsciously wringing long fingers.

I examined her profile, strong and angry. She looked tired, the dark circles under her eyes more prominent than I'd ever seen them. "Never," I said simply. "I'm never going to give up."

Her forehead creased. "Nobody means that when they say it. Not really."

"That's exactly what I mean." I longed to touch her and had to sit on my hands to keep from reaching out. "I understand that if you're going to trust me again—and I pray that you are—that it's going to take some time. I'll wait as long as I have to."

"What it if never happens?"

"Then I guess I've got a long wait ahead of me." She wanted me to say that I'd bail on her when I didn't get what I wanted fast enough, but I wouldn't do it. I wanted to be in this for the long haul, if she'd only let me.

She swallowed a few times and looked like she might actually start to talk to me.

I leaned forward in anticipation.

Then, abruptly, she picked up her book and started searching for the spot she'd stopped reading. "You're wasting your time. Go home and back to your slimeball spying."

I grabbed the book and tossed it over her head before she could use it as a prop in her latest production of Let's Ignore Belinda.

"Hey! Give it back!" she said through clenched teeth, her eyes sparking.

"No." I gentled my voice, which was threatening to rise. "We need to talk."

"You've got some nerve!" She looked like she wanted to scream. "I already have enough people in my life who don't care what I think and who want to control me. I don't need you joining the party."

"Stop it." My anger flared. "Stop being such a Goddamn baby. I don't want to control you and I sure as hell care what you think or I wouldn't be here at all. You might not ever love me. You might not even ever like me again or come close to accepting my apology, but at least listen to it! I've been crafting it for weeks and have come twenty-five hundred miles to give it."

She ground her teeth together but I could see that she was teetering on the edge.

"Will you just listen to me? Please, Keilana." I wasn't above begging. "Please?"

Reluctantly, she nodded.

I could feel my heart pounding painfully and I drew in a nervous breath. Failure wasn't an option. Okay, I told myself, here goes everything. No pressure or anything. "My name is Belinda Blaisdell."

She blinked a few times and I could tell she was surprised by how I'd started, but that was okay. At least she was listening. Besides, I was more concerned that we ended up in the same place than whether we agreed on the road we took to get there.

"My middle name is Cadie. My mom used to call me that when I was teensy tiny, but my dad didn't like it much and so she stopped after a while. I'd forgotten that I liked it until you started using it. You can call me Belinda, like everyone else does, but you aren't like everyone else to me. So you can call me Cadie if you want."

Bewildered, she slowly said, "Okay," and I guessed that she was wondering why she'd have to use my name at all if she decided never to speak to me again.

I had to admit, she had a point.

"You'll want to have a name to use when you curse me at least, right?" I ventured, hoping I'd guessed right.

She sighed, both sadness and frustration leaking into the sound. "I don't want to curse you. Well, actually I do. But I'm trying to get over wanting that and ..." her voice dropped to a whisper, "a lot more."

I struggled not to fall into those beautiful eyes that had somehow grown more intense in the weeks we'd been apart. "So long as you don't get over me," I said in a rush, my anxiety rising. "At least not until I'm done talking. Promise?"

Her eyes flashed. "I can't promise you any—"

"Promise?" I asked frantically. "Or I swear to God I'll do something horrible like ... like ... I'll start singing a wretched love song at the top of my lungs, humiliating myself, and scaring the birds, and sickening you in the process. I'm not bluffing, I'll really do it! I will!"

Somehow, a tiny smile cracked through her stony veneer. "In that case, and because I've heard you sing in the shower, I promise."

That was better. I took a calming breath. "Okay, you already know that I'm a private investigator." I got up and sat down in front of her so that she didn't have to turn her head to look at me. That put me off the blanket and onto the damp sand. My butt was wet again, but I was actually getting used to that. "I have my own tiny business that was doing okay up until a few months ago, but I'll be back on my feet again soon."

She tried not to look concerned. "The job my parents hired you for ruined your business?"

"No. I ruined my business. But that doesn't matter now."

"I'm a California native, a college drop-out, and Russ, you remember him, the other slimeball spy? He's my best friend. I haven't forgiven him for his part in this, but we're talking again and I'm trying my best not to hold a grudge or want to kill him every second."

She was looking at me funny. "What?" I asked, allowing her expression to derail me.

"I don't understand what you're doing. Why are you telling me these things?"

"I'm telling you about myself." I swallowed hard. "Keilana, there are a thousand lies between us and I can't take them all back or change what I've done. You deserved the whole truth. And so you're getting it now." I smiled bravely. This didn't sound near so cheesy when I was rehearsing it on the airplane. "Even though it's long overdue."

I let out a little groan. "I messed up already, I think. Because I should have started off by telling you that I love you."

Her nostrils flared.

"You haven't gotten to hear me say nearly as much as you should have, but that doesn't mean it's not true. I also need to tell you that from the very bottom of my heart, I'm so, so sorry that I deceived you." My eyes begged her to believe me.

Her chin began to quiver.

"Oh, God, please don't cry," I said helplessly. "I can't stand to see you cry. It'll make me cry and then I'll never get through this." I didn't think I had any tears left, but I'd been wrong every one of the twenty-one days I'd thought that for the past three weeks.

She nodded and I could see she was struggling with her composure. I wanted to help her, but I couldn't force her to open her heart to me or to forgive. All I could do is ask her to take a chance on me. On us.

"What I felt for you ... what I still feel, is real. No matter what, you have to know that." My chest still felt like a fat guy was sitting on it and I let out a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry. I'll do my best to be honest with you from now on if you'll give me the chance."

She opened her mouth but I didn't give her an opportunity to contradict me. If I did, and she told me to get lost again, then what would I do? I had no ideas left! "What else should you know about me?" I was babbling but I didn't care. "Oh, right, there is one thing that I was faking the entire time we lived together."

"That you speak French?

Her voice startled me a little. Then I realized what she said and my eyes narrowed for a split second. "Okay, there were two things I was faking the entire time we lived together."

Her expression filled with dread and her entire body tensed. "What?"

"I'm not neat. I'm a messy pig who was only pretending to be neat so that you wouldn't be repulsed by me."

She gasped. "That was you being neat?"

I nodded gravely. "My neatest. Oh, and I have a dog named Smelly and instead of being twenty-one I just turned thirty-three years old."

"Shut up!" Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "That can't be true!"

"I know, I know. Cats are way less work."

This time the smile stretched her cheeks, even if it was brief. I was getting to her, I could tell. She wanted to hate me the way I wanted to hate Russ, but hating someone you really cared about did nothing but suck out every bit of your energy and make you miserable. It was hard, horrible work and I hoped, in the end, Keilana would risk happiness instead.

"You said before that all we had between us was lies." Unable to stop myself, I reached out and stroked her cheek with my hand. Her skin was smooth and warm from the morning sun and I was thrilled when she closed her eyes and leaned into my touch. "You were so wrong. Everything I said about you, and how special you are, was true. Everything I felt was true. Everything you felt between us, the attraction, the affection ... it was all real, Keilana. Every bit of it."

Dismayed, she peeled my hand from her face but held it in hers as she looked into my eyes all the way down to the bottom of my soul. "How can I believe you after you tricked and used me?"

Nothing hurts like the bitter truth. Nothing. "I don't know," I said with brutal honesty. "What I did was unforgivable. But I'm asking ... I'm begging you to forgive me anyway."

She bit her lower lip, and didn't say anything else, leaving me to wonder what she was thinking and feeling. I wasn't sure which I'd do first, pass out, or go insane. Keilana was still so much of a mystery to me, maddening and fascinating at the same time.

My worry was somewhere in the stratosphere by the time she finally started to speak. "I've missed you. I've missed cooking dinner with you and talking with you after we've both gone to bed. I've missed playing with you. I've even missed arguing with you." She licked her lips. "I've missed my friend."

"Oh, Keilana," I had to clear my throat to be able to speak. "I've missed you too."

She wiped at her teary eyes. "Umm ... After you left, I read your notebook. It was hard to see what you really thought of me at the beginning, but harder to read how you kept up your lies even after you knew how it would hurt me when I found out the truth."

Looking at Keilana's pain-filled face, I wasn't sure whether it was possible to hate yourself more than I did at that moment. I was relieved that things were all the way out in the open now, but it made me feel vulnerable too, like I was stripped to the bone.

She knew everything, even the ugliest, most unflattering details of my deception. She knew about my self-doubts, indecision, and endless mistakes when it came to her. My empty stomach twisted. How can you ever apologize enough for shattering a fragile trust?

"Keilana,"—I lifted a handful of sand and let it trickle through my fingers, willing something brilliant to come to mind and help save me from myself. It didn't of course; all I had was the inadequate truth—"I didn't know how to put an end to things and not hurt you. Once I took that damn job and started to care about you, there was no good way out."

I glanced up at her and our gazes locked. "I couldn't stop myself from falling in love with you no matter how hard I tried. I didn't mean for it to happen. And to be honest, I'm not sorry that it did, I'm just sorry that I disappointed and hurt you."

Her chest jerked and she started to cry in earnest. "I couldn't have stopped myself either," she said miserably.

Fuck it. I pulled her into a hug, unwilling to clamp down on my urge to comfort her any longer. We both needed it desperately and if we could help each other, even for just a few seconds, it would be worth the pain that would surely follow when she pushed me away.

But she didn't push me away. She held me closer.

"Forgive me," I whispered emotionally, my cheek pressed tightly against hers. "You won't be sorry. I think we can make each other happy, if you'll just give us a chance. If you'll just be brave and crazy and stick your heart out on the line one more time. I'll guard it with everything I have."

She felt so good in my arms, her heart thudding against my chest, her soft skin melded to mine, that I never wanted to let her go.

She sniffed a few times and let out a long breath that brought us even closer together. "No more lies?" she said directly into my ear, her lips tickling the sensitive skin.

I felt lightheaded. "Never. I swear."

She pulled back from me and wiped her cheeks with shaky fingers. Her eyes were brimming with something I hadn't seen since that night at the strip club. Hope. And I knew mine reflected the same thing.

I threaded my fingers with hers. "Can we have a do-over?"

She smiled and I was sure she was remembering when she'd asked me that same thing weeks ago. At the time, her request had seemed unrealistic and childish. Now, I clung to the words, to the hope for a second chance, like a lifeline.

She sighed. "I don't think I have a choice about the do-over. I want to be with you more than I want to stay angry or afraid." She smiled a determined smile and her bravery took my breath away. "Even though you make me crazy, the chance to be together is worth the risk. I don't want to walk away from what we could have."

"Thank God!" I flopped back on the sand, grinning like an idiot.

Keilana laughed gently, sweet and low, and the weight of the world tumbled off my shoulders and into the sea. Then a soft pair of lips covered mine, and I was in heaven.