“Not at all. Not yet, anyway.” I thought about Reyes, about how he seemed to show up anytime I was in danger, but would he now? He was mad at me, after all. “If there is one thing I can promise you, it’s the fact that you’ll definitely know when I’m upset.” I eyed him a moment then asked, “Am I lying?”

Smith studied me a long moment then raised his palms in surrender. “I told you, Ms. Davidson. I’ve done my research. I was hoping we could be friends.”

“So you break into my apartment? Not a good start, Frank.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and chuckled. I was really beginning to like him. I would probably go for the groin, bring him to his knees before Chao got to me. Then I’d be toast, but like I said, I would go down swinging.

After he sobered, he leveled a pointed gaze on me. “Then may I insist that you drop your investigation? For your own safety, of course.”

“You certainly may,” I said, flashing my biggest, brightest smile. “Not that it’ll do you any good.”

“The organization I work for will not take your sparkling personality into consideration should you get in their way.”

“Then perhaps I should show them my darker side.”

He seemed almost regretful as he watched me. “You are a unique creature, Ms. Davidson. I just have one more question.” It was his turn to lean in, a mischievous grin widening across his face. “Are you nerdy or juicy?”

I needed a new wardrobe.

A loud thud had us all turning toward Ulrich. But he turned as well and looked over his shoulder. The door swung open again and slammed into his rock-solid back, eliciting another loud thud. Then another, and another, on and on until Cookie finally stopped and shouted, “What gives?” Then we heard grunts as she tried to push past the obstacle that was blocking her entrance.

Ulrich looked back at Smith in question. Smith, in turn, looked at me.

“It’s my neighbor.”

“Ah, Cookie Kowalski. Thirty-four. Divorced. One child, female,” he said, his way of letting me know he had indeed done his homework. “Let her in, Ulrich.”

Ulrich stepped to the side, and Cookie came barreling through the door, her momentum too great to stop on a dime. After a near head-on collision with my snack bar, she screeched to a halt and looked around.

“Hey, Cook,” I said cheerfully. When she only glanced from man to man, I added, “These are my new friends. We’re really hitting it off.”

“They have guns.”

“Well, there is that.” I rose and took the coffee mug out of her hands to fill it. Our mutual admiration for that little jolt of heaven every morning had helped us bond the moment we met three years ago. Now it was a staple. “I have to admit,” I said, looking at Smith, “I’m not convinced our relationship will be a lasting one.”

Cookie had yet to take her eyes off them. “Because they have guns?”

“We were just leaving,” Smith said, rising and shrugging into his jacket.

“Do you have to go? For realsies?”

He smiled, apparently choosing to ignore the sarcasm dripping from my every word, and nodded as he strode past.

“You forgot to mention who you’re working for, Frank.”

“No, I didn’t.” He offered an informal salute before closing the door.

“He was nice looking,” Cookie said, “in a James Bondy kind of way.”

“That’s it. I’m getting you a male blowup doll for Christmas.”

“Do they have those?” she asked, intrigued.

I had no idea. But the thought made me giggle. “Why are you here at this hour?” I asked, slightly appalled.

“I couldn’t sleep, and I saw your light on.”

“I guess we’ll get an early start, then.” We clinked our coffee mugs together, toasting God knows what.

* * *

Since we’d once again hit the showers before the butt crack of dawn—separately, of course, though I did have the company of Dead Trunk Guy, which was getting really, really old because it was difficult to shave my legs with goose bumps—Cookie and I found ourselves strolling to the office with the sun just barely peeking over the horizon. Oranges and pinks burst across the sky, winding around smoky clouds to herald the arrival of a new day. And it was going to be beautiful. Until I tripped and spilled coffee on my wrist.

“Mistress Marigold?” Cookie asked as I bit back a curse. She seemed intrigued and a little repulsed.

“I know, but she knows something. I know it. And when I know what she knows, we’ll all know a little more. Knowledge is power, baby.”

“You’re doing that weird thing you do.”

“Sorry. I just can’t seem to help myself. My brain is freaking out. Two predawn mornings in a row. It doesn’t know what to think, how to act. I’ll have a talk with it later. Perhaps get it into counseling.”

“Hopefully, we’ll have those class rosters this morning and I can start searching Mimi’s classmates, see if any of them have met with similar fates.”

“You mean death?”

“Pretty much,” she said.

We took the outside stairs to the office. While I made a beeline for the coffeepot to prep for the day, Cookie checked the fax machine.

“They’re here,” she said excitedly.

“The class rosters? Already?” That was fast.

Cookie turned on her computer and plopped down in front of her desk. “I’m going to do some hunting, see what I come up with.”