"We'll stay at the Mandalay Bay. I know a guy. You'll love it."
"Right, soon, bye."
She hung up and hit the answer button.
"Hello?"
Without preamble, Mother Katherine said, "She was murdered, wasn't she?"
Loren was about to hem and haw again, but something in Mother Katherine's tone told her it would be a waste of time. "Yes."
"Then I need to see you."
"Why's that?"
"I wasn't allowed to say anything before. Sister Mary Rose was very specific."
"Specific about what?"
"Please come by my office as soon as you can, Loren. I need to show you something."
"What can I do for you, Agent Yates?" Olivia asked.
By the door, Cal Dollinger's eyes swept the room. Adam Yates sat and rested his elbows on his thighs. "You own a lot of books," Yates said.
"Very observant."
"Are they yours or your husband's?"
Olivia put her hands on her hips. "Yes, I can see how that would be relevant, so let me clear your mind. Most of the books belong to me. Are we done?"
Yates smiled. "You're very amusing," he said. "Isn't she amusing, Cal?"
Cal nodded. "Most strippers and whores, they're bitter. But not her. She's a slice of sunshine."
"Sunshine indeed," Yates added.
Olivia did not like the way this was going. "What do you want?"
"You faked your own death," Yates said. "That's a crime."
She said nothing.
"That girl who really died," he went on. "What was her name?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Her name was Cassandra, wasn't it?" Yates leaned in a little. "Were you the one who murdered her?"
Olivia held her ground. "What do you want?"
"You know."
Yates's hands tightened into fists, then relaxed. She glanced at the door. Cal remained calm, a statue.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't."
Yates tried a smile. "Where's the tape?"
Olivia stiffened. She flashed back to that trailer. There had been a horrible smell when she and Kimmy first moved into it, as if small animals had died in the walls. Kimmy had bought some heavy potpourri- much too perfumed. It tried to mask something that could never really be hidden. The smell came back to her now. She saw Cassandra's crumpled body. She remembered the fear on Clyde Rangor's face as he asked:
"Where's the tape?"
She tried to keep her voice from cracking. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Why did you run away and change your name?"
"I needed a fresh start."
"Just like that?"
"No," Olivia said. "Nothing about it was 'just like that.' " She stood. "And I don't want to answer any more questions until my attorney is present."
Yates looked up at her. "Sit down."
"I want you both out of here."
"I said sit down."
She looked over at Cal Dollinger again. Still playing statue. He had eyes with nothing behind them. Olivia did as Yates said. She sat.
"I was going to say something like, 'You got a nice life here, you wouldn't want me to spoil it all for you,' " Yates began. "But I'm not sure that will work. Your neighborhood is a cesspool. Your house is a dump. Your husband is an ex-con wanted in a triple murder." He gave her the smile. "One would have thought you'd have made the most of your new start, Candi. But amazingly you did just the opposite."
He was intentionally trying to antagonize her. Olivia wouldn't let that happen. "I'd like you both to leave now."
"You don't care who learns your secret?"
"Please leave."
"I could arrest you."
That was when she decided to take the chance. Olivia put out her hands, as if ready to be cuffed. Yates did not move. He could arrest her, of course. She wasn't sure of the exact law or the statute of limitations, but she had clearly interfered with a murder investigation- she had, in fact, pretended to be the victim. It would be more than enough to hold her.
But that wasn't what Yates wanted.
Clyde's pleading voice: "Where's the tape?"
Yates wanted something else. Something Cassandra had died for. Something Clyde Rangor had killed for. She looked into his face. The eyes were steady. His hands kept clenching and unclenching.
Her wrists were still together in front of her. She waited another second, then dropped them back to her sides. "I don't know anything about any tapes," she said.
Now it was Yates's turn to study her. He took his time. "I believe you," he said.
And for some reason the way he said it scared her more than anything else.
"Please come with us," Yates said.
"Where?"
"I'm taking you in."
"On what charge?"
"You want the list alphabetically?"
"I'll need to call my attorney."
"You can call him from the precinct."
She was not sure how to play this. Cal Dollinger took a step toward her. When she took a step back, the big man said, "You want me to drag you out of here in cuffs?"
Olivia stopped. "That won't be necessary."
They headed outside. Yates took the lead. Dollinger stayed next to her. Olivia checked the streets. The giant brown beer bottle was in the sky. For some reason it gave her comfort. Yates walked ahead. He unlocked the car door, slid in, started it up. He turned back and looked at Olivia and suddenly it hit her.
She recognized him.
Names fled easily, but faces were her prisoners for life. When she'd danced it became a way of numbing herself. She'd studied the faces. She'd memorize them, classify them by their level of boredom and enjoyment, try to remember how many times they'd been there. It had been a mental exercise, a way to distract herself.
Adam Yates had been to Clyde's club.
She may have hesitated or maybe Cal Dollinger was just attuned to what was going on around him. She was about to flee, just start running until her legs gave out, but Dollinger put a firm hand on her arm. He squeezed the spot above her elbow just hard enough to get her attention. She tried to pull away, but it was like pulling your arm out of a concrete block.
She couldn't move.
They were almost at the car now. Cal picked up speed. Olivia's eyes skimmed the street, pausing on Lawrence. He was standing on the corner, swaying with another man she didn't know. Both of them had brown paper bags in their hand. Lawrence looked at her and started to raise his hand to wave.
Olivia mouthed the words: Help me.
Lawrence's face didn't change. There was no reaction at all. The other man made a joke. Lawrence laughed long and hard and slapped his thigh.
He hadn't seen her.
They approached the car. Olivia's mind raced. She did not want to get in with them. She tried to slow her walk. Dollinger gave her arm a quick, painful pinch.
"Keep moving," the big man told her.
They reached the back door. Dollinger opened it. She tried to hold her ground, but his grip was simply too strong. He pushed her into the backseat.
"Yo, got a dollar?"
The big man took a quick glance. It was Lawrence. Dollinger started turning away, dismissing the panhandler, but Lawrence grabbed his shoulder.
"Yo, man, I'm hungry. Got a dollar?"
"Buzz off."
Lawrence put his hands on the big man's chest. "I'm just asking for a dollar, man."
"Let go of me."
"A dollar. Is that too much to-"
And that was when Dollinger let go of her arm.
Olivia hesitated but not for long. When both of Dollinger's hands gripped Lawrence by the front of his shirt, she was ready. She jumped up and started to run.
"Run, Liv!"
Lawrence didn't have to tell her twice.
Dollinger dropped Lawrence and spun around. Lawrence jumped on the big man's back. Dollinger shrugged him off like dandruff. Then Lawrence did something truly foolish. He hit Dollinger with the brown bag. Olivia could hear the clunk from the beer bottle inside. Dollinger turned around and punched Lawrence in the sternum. Lawrence went down hard.