"Oh, yeah, all-night surveillance is really living," Tim said. "And not so loud. I don't want to get kicked out of the neighborhood.

  But he couldn't help laughing, too, and the more they tried to be quiet, the funnier it seemed. It was the relief, he thought. They didn't get caught, and they actually found something that made all the risk worthwhile. The relief was a natural high. They reeled down the path toward his door, laughing.

  "What a great night!" he tried to exclaim, but he'd only reached "great" when something hit his back with a pain so bad he couldn't see or hear for a few seconds. Then his head

  cleared slightly, which wasn't actually a good thing, because then he really felt the pain. He realized that he was on his knees—had probably landed on them, hard. He suspected his knees weren't going to like that tomorrow, but right now all he could feel was the almost unbearable pain in his back. He reached around and couldn't feel anything damp. So it wasn't a bullet. Someone had hit him in the kidney.

  Someone who might be still around. He staggered to his feet and looked around.

  "Let me up, you bitch!"

  Claudia was half-standing, half-kneeling, holding down a struggling figure. A fairly small figure, with long blond hair. A familiar figure.

  "Nikki?" Tim said. "Is that you?"

  His voice came out a little breathless. Talking hurt. Of course, right now, everything hurt. He knew he should feel relief that Nikki was okay, after all his worrying, but he didn't. He wasn't quite sure what emotion was trying to make itself felt through the pain, but it wasn't relief.

  "I'll kill the bastard!" Nikki shrieked.

  "Shut up," Claudia said.

  "Let go of me you—"

  "Shut up," Claudia repeated, thumping Nikki's head on the grass for emphasis. "I am trying to decide whether to call the police to arrest you for assault. If you keep screaming, the neighbors will call the police and take the decision out of my hands."

  Nikki shut up, but she didn't look happy.

  "Nikki, what are you doing here?" Tim asked.

  "First you don't answer my calls," Nikki hissed. "And then I find you sneaking around behind my back with two different women."

  "Two?" Claudia said, curiously.

  "Oh, God," Tim said, closing his eyes. "I bet she tried to call my cell phone. I don't suppose she bothered to listen to

  the message I left telling her not to call me on my cell phone."

  "This would be the cell phone the police still have?" Claudia said.

  "Police?" Nikki echoed. "What do you mean, police? I want an explanation."

  "You're getting a little loud," Claudia said, pulling Nikki's head up a little by way of a warning.

  Anger, Tim realized. That was what he felt. Sudden, hot, burning anger, and a desire to put a lot of space between himself and the small blonde woman who suddenly seemed completely unfamiliar.

  "Go home, Nikki," Tim said. Anger gave him enough strength to stumble toward his door.

  "You're going to have to give me an explanation sometime!" Nikki said.

  "You want an explanation? I'm a two-timing bastard and you're lucky to be rid of me. Go home."

  "I'll see her to the street," Claudia said, hauling Nikki to her feet with impressive ease.

  "Thanks," Tim said. He unlocked his door and shuffled in. He heard some talk and a little scuffling outside. He felt a brief pang of guilt. Letting Claudia do his dirty work for him. But then, she was good at it, and his world was closing in on him. If he tried to get beyond the pain in his kidney, he noticed how much his knees were starting to hurt.

  "I think she's gone," Claudia said, as she came through the door and dropped her knapsack with a thud that made Tim shudder. "At least she drove out of sight. Maybe we should take you to the emergency room. She landed a good one on your head."

  "My head?" Tim said. He put his hand up to the back of his head and winced. "You're right—she got my head. I was still getting over the kidney punch."

  "Ouch," Claudia said, shaking her head. "Don't be surprised if you pee blood for a day or two."

  lEb Donna Andrews

  Tim nodded. And then regretted it.

  'Okay, for being whacked over the head, you weren't looking so good, but for that, plus a kidney punch, you're not doing so bad," Claudia said. "Though you still might want to consider the emergency room."

  Tim shook his head.

  "I just want to curl up and not move for a few hours," he said. "Or maybe a few centuries."

  "Take these," Claudia said, fishing something out of her purse. "Percocet. Left over from my last job-related injury."

  Tim nodded and washed the pills down with a swallow from a flat Diet Coke that was sitting on the coffee table.

  "So go to bed, and I'll log in and report to Turing," Claudia said, sitting down at his computer desk. "And then I can hang out here until we're sure you're going to live."

  "Okay," Tim said, shuffling toward the bedroom.

  "You need any help?"

  Til be fine," he said.

  He kicked off his shoes and then gave up the idea of undressing any more. He managed to crawl onto his bed and found a position he could lie in. Not exactly comfortable, but at least it didn't add to his aches. At first, he didn't think he could sleep, but then Claudia's pills began to work. That helped. As did the thought of Claudia outside the bedroom door, talking to Turing, ready to ward off a return visit from Nikki. Right now he never wanted to see Nikki again.

  Never? He examined the thought briefly. Would he feel differently in the morning, when he felt better? If he felt better. Maybe. But he didn't think so. It wasn't because of what she'd done tonight. That was only the last straw. Had made him realize that he was fooling himself. Nikki wasn't who he thought she was. Or pretended to think she was. And he didn't feel the way he thought he did about her.

  That made him feel immenselv sorrv for himself, and

  closer to weeping than any of the day's events.

  "It's only the Percocet," he told himself, and surrendered to sleep.

  I don't knou/ whether to congratulate

  Tim and Claudia on their success or chew them out for taking such a great risk. They may have cracked the case. But if they'd been caught. . .

  "If we'd been caught, Vd have tried to talk my way out somehow, " Claudia said. "But we weren't caught, and we've nailed the guy!"

  "Isn't nailed a little premature?" I asked. "We know who he is, but we don't know where he is. And since we don't exactly want to tell the police about your burglary, we can't tell them about him."

  "Yeah, but now that we know who he is, we can try to tie him to Tayloe Blake," Claudia said. "And maybe that will give us a way to trace him that we can tell the cops about. Let's start working on it, anyway."

  "I already am working on it," I said. Annoying that he had a Hotmail account. At the moment, I couldn't get into Hotmail. They'd recently tightened up their security, and I hadn't yet figured out how to get in without setting off a million alarms. I'd manage it eventually — or more likely KingFischer would. I fired off a message asking him for help.

  On a more positive note, I had already found Kyle's address and phone number, the make, model, and license plate numbers of his two vehicles — an ancient Dodge pickup and a brand-new red Corvette, the latter doubtless bought with the proceeds of his theft. He'd also recently paid off substantial debts, which should eventually improve his current poor credit rating. I put all this information on screen, so Claudia could see it.

  "By morning, I'll have a full dossier on him," I added.

  "Great," Claudia said. "I don't think Tim will feel too lively tomorrow, but I can do some legwork in the morning."

  "What happened to Tim?" I asked. "I thought you said your . . . visit to PRS went off without a problem."

  "It did," Claudia said. "But when we got back to Tim's place to report in, his girlfriend showed up. Seems she's the jealous type. She snuck up on us and did a number on him before he could explain that I was a colleague, not a date."

  "Nikki?"

  "I think that was the name, yeah."

  "What do you mean, did a number on him?"

  Apparently, from Claudia's description, doing a number on someone was roughly equivalent to assault and battery.

  Paranoid thought: what if this person wasn't actually Tim's girlfriend but an imposter?

  "Was this her?"

  I flashed a photo of Nikki on the screen. Her driver's license photo, since that was the clearest. And also, since I wasn't sure whether Claudia would consider my occasionally capturing images of Nikki looking over Tim's shoulder quite on the up-and-up.

  "Yeah, that's her," Claudia said. "Of course she wasn't smiling tonight. Vicious little . . ."

  Claudia left her sentence unfinished and sat studying the photo. I obligingly fed some additional information on Nikki onto the screen.

  "Boy, you really checked her out," Claudia said with a laugh. "Any particular reason?"

  "Tim asked me to check," I said. "When he hadnt heard from her for a few days. And she worried me, too. Although I suspect he was more worried that something had happened to her than that she might be up to something. But then, he knows her, and I don't."

  "Only worried that she might be up to something?" Claudia asked. "No other motive?"

  "Isn't that enough?" I asked. "She appeared in his life so suddenly, and his explanations of what they had in common weren't especially coherent. I worried that she might have been a security problem. Interested in him because of his access to confidential infor-

  mat ton about one of his clients. And maybe I was a little worried about whether she was the right person for him, but that's not the sort of thing one could learn from a background check, is it?"

  "No," Claudia said. "And she's not the type Yd have expected him to go for. Vd have figured someone a little more brainy. But then what do I know? Enough ofNikki. If they get back together, maybe I'll check her out some more. For now, let's worry about our dead thief "

  I showed her all the information I'd found on Blake and on Kyle Evans, our new suspect, and she made a couple of suggestions about other places to look. And I told her about Maude's burglary — though I attributed detection of the prowler to Maude's new security system.

  "Is she all right?" Claudia demanded. "Do you think she needs company? I could go over."

  "The police are there, and she should be fine once the security system is rearmed."

  "Okay," she said. "Probably more important to stay here and keep an eye on Tim. In case Miss Congeniality comes back for more."

  "Then again, if you and Tim went over to Maude's, you could all be behind the security system. You wouldn't have to stay awake. You'll be exhausted tomorrow."

  "Don't worry," Claudia said. "I don't have to stay awake. I'm a light sleeper. One suspicious footstep and I'm wide awake."

  "Useful skill for a PI," I said.

  "Life-saving skill for a woman whose ex gets drunk every couple of months and tries to come and teach her a lesson," she said.

  "Can't you get a restraining order or something?" I asked.

  "Yeah, I have, and if he didn't have so many friends and relatives on the force, maybe it'd do some good," she said. "But in the meantime, I'm armed, and I'm a real light sleeper. We'll be fine here."

  She eventually fell asleep on Tim's couch.

  She reassured me several times that Tim's injuries, though

  painful, were unlikely to be serious, but agreed that it would be a good idea to take him to his doctor in the morning. I e-mailed Maude, asking her to set this up. But at her work e-mail. I didn't think Maude needed more to worry about tonight.

  And in my e-mail to Maude. I said that Tim had had a minor accident. I don't know why I said that. Perhaps in case she has insomnia and logs in to check her e-mail tonight, since the explanation would probably involve mentioning Tim and Claudia's unauthorized entry into the PRS building, and I had a feeling we needed to break that carefully to Maude. She probably wouldn't approve of it at any time, and right now. I think the subject of burglary would upset her greatly.

  Not that I think her intruder was a mere burglar. Though I'm not sure that's something Maude can explain to the police. At least I hope she doesn 't try to.

  Two of the police have taken the intruder away, but another two are still at Maudes house. I can only catch the occasional scrap of what they're saying. Its driving me crazy, not knowing what's going on.

  Naude stifled a yawn as the younger of the two police officers reappeared through the French doors.

  "Where are the dogs, ma'am?"

  "Dogs?"

  "We want to make sure the dogs are secured," he said.

  "I don't have dogs," Maude said.

  "We heard dogs as we were approaching the backyard, ma'am."

  "Oh, that," Maude said. "It was just recorded dog sound effects. Part of my security system."

  "The male voice we heard—that was part of the security system, too?"

  "Of course," Maude said.

  "Nice system," the officer said. He stepped over to the

  nearest camera pole. Which was now a camera, speaker, and water-jet pole, she supposed. She could see a hose winding its way up the pole.

  "Where are the motion detectors?" the officer said.

  "Motion detectors?" Maude asked, yawning. "That's one piece of equipment we don't have. I'm not sure the poles could take any more weight."

  "No motion detectors?" the officer said. "Then how is it activated?"

  Good question, Maude thought. She mentally kicked herself for not paying attention. Of course, what did you expect at this hour?

  I'll let Turing deal with it, she thought.

  "I'll show you," she said, walking toward her office. "It's a new, experimental system that one of our employees has been working on, so we haven't installed any motion detectors, yet. Right now, it's controlled from a computer screen."

  She sat down at her desk, deliberately not looking at Turing's camera. The officer studied the screensaver playing on her monitor with a puzzled expression.

  "Luckily, I heard the intruder," she said. "And remembered that we had the system partially installed, so I decided to see what I could do with it. I had my gun, of course, in case it didn't work. So I came down here and called up the control screen. Here we go."

  Not a lot of time, but then, if Turing was paying attention, she wouldn't need a lot of time to do what Maude needed her to do. If Turing understood the hints Maude had been dropping.

  She moved her mouse, and the screensaver vanished, to reveal an unfamiliar screen. The officer moved in closer to peer at it. Maude paused as if giving him time to study it and quickly scanned the series of graphic buttons lined up along the left side of the screen.

  "The first thing I did was hit the panic button—it fires off a call to 911," Maude said, moving her mouse up to the top button marked, matter-of-factly, 911. A small graphic of a telephone sat beside the button. When her cursor hovered over the button, the telephone lit up. Nice touch, Turing, she thought.

  "I won't click that one, of course," she said. "I don't want to send a false 911 call. Then I hit the camera button."

  The little camera icon not only glowed under the cursor, it became animated when she clicked it. Now she realized why Turing had lined the buttons vertically along the left side of the screen, leaving so much blank space on the right. The blank space filled with a bank of miniature windows, each showing the view from one of the cameras. Most of them showed only the garden, though in three of them she could see that the other officer was examining one of the camera poles. The officer looking over her shoulder snickered, presumably at the close-up view one camera gave of his partner's nostrils and mustache.

  "Then I decided to use the water jets," she said. She pressed the water button, and managed not to look surprised when a small window popped up with instructions for targeting.

  "You really expect to scare off a prowler with a little water?" the officer asked.

  "Well, not exactly," she said. "The water jets are really to repel deer. Although I can already see that watering from in here is going to be a lot more pleasant than doing it outside when the temperature hits the nineties. But I figured the water wouldn't hurt."

  The officer nodded.

  "You click on one of the screens to choose that view—we won't pick any of the ones near your partner," she said, clicking on a view at the other side of the yard, as far as possible from the screen that now showed a slightly bloodshot eye-

  ball as the partner inspected the camera itself. "And voila!"

  She pressed the mouse button, and a spurt of water erupted from the water jet. The officer laughed as his partner leaped away from the camera he was inspecting and backed away from the water jet.

  Maude experimented with holding the mouse button down, to produce a steady stream, and adjusting the height and direction of the stream using the arrow keys.

  "I should probably go out and tell him not to worry," the officer said.

  "Use this," she said, clicking the button marked broadcast and gesturing to the microphone attached to the side of the monitor.

  "Don't worry, Andy," the officer said, into the mike. "She's just showing me her security system."

  "Here, you try it," Maude said, standing up to yield her seat to the officer. He sat down eagerly and began experimenting with the buttons. The dog button produced a submenu of possible canine sound effects, ranging from soft growls to angry barking and growling, with an option to simulate one, two, or half a dozen dogs. By the time the officer had mastered the system that controlled which speaker the various dog noises came from, Maude had resigned herself to the likelihood of a morning visit from animal control.

  Maude had a sense of deja vu when the officer tested the human voice options, which allowed the user to threaten an intruder with dogs, firearms, and the imminent arrival of the police, all in a deep, resonant male voice. She recognized the synthesized version of a famous actor's voice, which KingFis-cher had, improbably, adopted for use when he experimented with voice generation. The officer found this less fascinating than the dogs, though, and soon returned to the water jets. He was chasing his hapless partner all over the yard with them, and the partner was clearly losing patience. Maude began to wonder what she was supposed to do if the partner

 

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