Authors: SL Hulen
“
An
d
whe
n
wil
l
tha
t
be?
”
sh
e
inquired
,
handin
g
o
v
e
r
the
en
v
elope crammed with $100 bills. “
W
e
’
re in a hurry.”
“Gi
v
e
me
a
w
eek
or
two;
I’m
backed
up.
’Sides,
I’m
giving
you my best work.”
“Y
ou
’
re
not
giving
me
anything.
I’m
paying
a
fortune,
and I
expect
your
best
work.
T
wo
w
eeks,
Murgat.
Not
a
day
more.”
H
e
steppe
d
a
w
a
y
t
o
le
t
Khar
a
pas
s
throug
h
th
e
door
,
and
then
mo
v
ed
into
V
ictoria’s
path.
“Careful
with
the
rest
of
my money,” he sneered before moving aside.
Outsid
e
th
e
bar
,
Khar
a
unco
v
ere
d
he
r
ear
s
an
d
exhaled
deeply
.
“No
t
e
v
e
n
i
n
dream
s
coul
d I
ha
ve
imagine
d
such
d
epra
v
ity
.
T
ha
t
pla
c
e
ha
s
a
t
lea
s
t
thre
e
t
o
e
s
i
n
th
e
U
n
d
erw
or
l
d
—
perhap
s
four.
”
Onc
e
the
y w
er
e
ou
t
o
f
earshot
,
sh
e
added,
“Menefra would ha
v
e lo
v
ed it.”
Occasionally
,
sh
e
stol
e
glance
s
behin
d
the
m
t
o
se
e
if
th
e
strange
r
ha
d
reappeared
.
I
t
turne
d
ou
t
t
o
b
e
a
s
V
ictoria
thought—a
simple
coincidence.
Still,
Khara
seemed
unsatisfied and kept quiet, her forehead lined with worry. “Can Murgat be trusted?” she asked out of the blue.
“He’s no fool. I
’
ll bet he’s still wondering how I found him and
what
connections
I
ha
v
e
with
the
DA’s
office.
Murgat’s
got a
soli
d
reputatio
n
fo
r
no
t
rattin
g
ou
t
clients
.
Besides
,
I
thin
k
yo
u charmed him.”
E
v
enin
g
w
a
s
fallin
g
quickly
,
an
d
the
y
w
aste
d
n
o
time
returnin
g
t
o
th
e
mor
e
respectabl
e
street
s
o
f
downtown.
Her
e
an
d
ther
e
a
shop-sig
n
flickere
d
an
d
cam
e
t
o
lif
e
i
n
the
lengthenin
g
shadows
. A
strea
m
o
f
offic
e
worker
s
began
pouring out of buildings and onto the streets, shoulders close, heads
down,
seemingly
preoccupied
with
the
single
thought
of getting
home. The two women easily blended in.
Whe
n
Khar
a
lingere
d
i
n
fron
t
o
f
a
stor
e
window
,
seemin
g
to
admire some bolts of colorful fabric,
V
ictoria thought
nothing of
it
until
Khara
leaned
closer.
“He’s
back,”
she
hissed.
“I
knew my senses had not decei
v
ed me. Look for yourself.”
V
ictori
a
glance
d
o
v
e
r
he
r
shoulde
r
an
d
caugh
t
sigh
t
o
f
a
figure
w
eaving
decisi
v
ely
through
the
foot
traffic
a
half-block
behind
them.
Something
about
his
monotonous
features
struck
he
r
a
s
familiar—an
d
recent
.
Beyon
d
that
,
sh
e
coul
d
no
t
place
hi
m
a
t
all
.
H
e
sense
d
he
r
lookin
g
a
t
hi
m
an
d
i
n
th
e
instan
t
when
thei
r
e
y
e
s
locked
,
sh
e
w
a
s
transporte
d
t
o
tha
t
terribl
e
da
y
on
th
e
ri
v
erban
k
whe
n
he
r
mothe
r
’
s
crie
s
fo
r
compassio
n
w
ere
ans
w
ere
d
wit
h
brutality
.
Sensin
g
th
e
presenc
e
o
f
malice
,
her
mind
w
ent numb and her feet froze.
“Do you know him?”
V
ictoria shook her head.
Khar
a
too
k
he
r
b
y
th
e
elbo
w
an
d
the
y
hurrie
d
on
.
“I
remembe
r
now,
”
sh
e
proclaimed
.
“Th
e
ma
n
wit
h
th
e
bloody
fingers.”
“Who?”
“He
w
as
there,
y
esterday,
at
the
museum—just
as
w
e
w
ere
going inside. He asked you something, didn’t he?”
“Directions
of
some
sort.
I
didn’t
get
a
good
look
at
him.”
They
mo
v
ed
under
the
awning
of
another
window
where
they
woul
d
b
e
les
s
visible
.
Se
v
era
l
mannequin
s
i
n
v
ariou
s
stages
o
f
undres
s
looke
d
out
,
an
d
a
woma
n
w
earin
g
horn-rimmed
glasse
s
wit
h
a
nav
y
sil
k
blous
e
drape
d
o
v
e
r
he
r
shoulder
glanced
at
them
quickly
and
w
ent
back
to
her
work
of
dressing
them.