"Yeah, I admit, it makes sense," I said. "There was a forced-window entry into the Dowling bedroom, identical to the other five break-ins. There's a witness who saw someone making a getaway on foot. Clapper says there's no gunpowder or blood spatter on Dowling's clothing. So if Casey knew Kitty-"

And then Claire thumped the table with her fist. Chips jumped. Beer sloshed. She got everyone's complete attention.

"I'm sorry, but the Benton killings give me the creeps. WCF. What's that? It's crazy. Sinister crazy. Mystery gunpowder stippling. Mystery motive. Dead baby, shot execution-style.

"So let me be clear: I don't care whose case it is, and I know it's not right to care more about one murder victim over another. I said I'm sorry, and I am, but this dead baby hurts me. Deeply. And now I'm going home to my man and my little girl."

Chapter 23

YUKI PAID THE tab and told Lorraine to keep the change. She realized suddenly that she'd never given the others her news. Usually girls' night out at Susie's was laughing and venting and dinner. But tonight everyone got intense and then-they were gone.

Yuki stood up, buttoned her jacket, and walked past the kitchen and into the main room. Her hand was on the front door handle when, on impulse, she turned and walked back to the bar.

The bartender had dark curly hair, an easy smile, and a name tag stitched onto the fabric of his wild-printed shirt.

"Miles?"

"That's my name," he told her. "Wait. I've seen you before. You and your friends-beer and margaritas, right?"

"I'm Yuki Castellano," she said, shaking his hand. "What do you drink to celebrate a good day in court?"

"You beat a traffic ticket?"

Yuki laughed.

"Do that again," Miles said. "I think the sun just came out."

"I'm a prosecutor," she said. "Things turned out fine for the good guys today. So what do you think? What am I drinking?"

"Classic. Traditional. Always in style."

"Perfect," Yuki said as Miles poured champagne. "You know, today was stupendous, except for the one stone in my shoe."

"Tell me about it."

Yuki ordered a spicy crab salad, then told Miles about the case against Jo-Jo Johnson and how the victim, the dead Dr. Harris, was a very bad dude but that Jo-Jo was worse. He'd let the man die in his own vomit over the course of fifteen hours.

"Should have taken the jury about five minutes to find Jo-Jo guilty," Miles said.

"Shoulda, but it took a day and a half. Jo-Jo's lawyer is very smooth, and Jo-Jo is disarmingly simple. Like, you could believe that he really didn't know that Harris was dying if you totally squinted your eyes and put your common sense in the deep freeze."

"So it's terrific that you won."

"Yeah. I've been at this a couple of years. I've had a lot of losses."

"So you didn't say. What's the stone in your shoe?"

"His name's Jeff Asher. Opposing counsel. He came up to me after his client was taken out in handcuffs and said, 'Congratulations on your win, Yuki. What is that? One in a row?'"

"He's a sore loser," the bartender said. "You hurt him, Yuki. Definitely. Guess what? Your champagne's on the house."

"Thanks, Miles. Yeah. You're right. He's a sore loser."

"Bartenders never lie," Miles said.

Yuki laughed.

"Here comes the sun," he said.

Chapter 24

CINDY'S BLOUSE WAS a cloud of silk chiffon in the rear foot well of Rich Conklin's car. Her skirt was rolled up to her waist, and her panty hose dangled from one foot. She was damned uncomfortable, but she wouldn't change a thing.

She rested her hand on Rich's chest, damp from the romp, and felt his heart thudding. He pulled her in tight and kissed her.

"What a concert," he said.

"Tremendous rhythm section," she said, both of them cracking up.

They were parked in an alley near the Embarcadero, where Rich had pulled the car into the shadows because Cindy's hand on his leg had made it impossible to wait.

He said now, "I can almost hear the cop knocking on the window with his flashlight, saying, 'Hey, what's going on in there?'"

"And you putting your shield to the glass, saying, 'Officer down.'"

Conklin started laughing. "I don't have any idea where my shield is. You are so witchy, Cin, and I mean that in the nicest possible way."

She gave him a sly smile and ran her hand over his naked chest and slid it down, then kissed him, starting up his breathing, and there he was, hard again, kissing her, pulling her on top of him.

"Keep your head down," he panted. "Headlights."

Cindy leaned over and fastened her mouth to his, broke away, raised and lowered her hips, and worked him with her eyes open, watching his face change, letting him see her, really see her. She slid up and away from him, and he put his hands around her waist and pulled her down on him, hard.

"You drive me crazy, Cin."

She put her cheek down on his collarbone, letting him drive the action, feeling secure and at risk the whole time, a powerfully explosive combination. And then she was calling his name, and he released himself into her.