Her hair was glossy, her skin was radiant, and she was wearing an off-the-shoulder black dress, giving her a girlish sexiness I hadn’t seen before.

She apologized for being late, said something had come up and she hadn’t been able to call.

By the time our dinner plates were cleared away, and coffee and dessert were served, my fatigue had been burnished with pleasure; I was feeling warm and safe in the company of my closest friends.

I’d just sunk my fork to the hilt in chocolate brioche bread pudding when Yuki said almost shyly, “I have big news.”

“Do tell,” Cindy said. “Enquiring minds and all that.”

Yuki’s smile blazed. She paused, holding on to her news for a last few moments before she finally told all.

“I’ve quit my job at Duffy and Rogers—and I have a new job.”

A barrage of overlapping questions came at her, and Yuki laughed her rolling chortle, a lovely sound I hadn’t heard in a very long time.

“I’m switching sides. I want to prosecute criminals,” she said. “Put the bad guys away. I’m going to work on Monday in the district attorney’s office. It’s official. I’m an ADA. Want to see my card?”

We clapped and whistled, took turns hugging Yuki and congratulating her.

I was so happy for my friend. This was a great life change for Yuki, and I knew she wouldn’t regret working for less money and more satisfaction. She’d be a terrific addition to the office of the DA. An instant star, I’d bet.

“To Yuki,” I said, raising my coffee cup, the others doing the same. “And to putting bad guys away.”

Music floated up from the piano, and a lovely young chanteuse began singing “Sentimental Journey.”

As I sat back in the banquette, basking in so many good feelings, my thoughts skipped a couple of grooves. And I found myself thinking again about Dennis Garza.

I wondered at the complex nature of the man.

Could his personality be so divided that he could kill as savagely as he’d done Martin Sweet? And on the other hand kill so stealthily we weren’t even sure that those patients at Municipal had been murdered?

I wondered if I’d ever know. But I did have one good lead. Maybe it would work out.

“Where are you, Lindsay?” Claire asked me.

“Right here, Butterfly.”

She pressed my hand. “No, really,” she said.

“I was thinking about Garza and his dark, crazy eyes,” I said. “He’s fifty years old. He’ll die in prison. He’ll never hurt anyone ever again.”

Yuki put her arms around me and hugged me really hard.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Yuki said. “Thank you for taking my mom’s death to heart, Lindsay. Thank you for chasing Garza down.”