Standing and smoothing her formfitting yellow dress, Skye donned a short white North Face bubble coat and exchanged her bright yellow high heels for calf-high fur mukluks. As she gathered up her belongings, she said, “I think I’m going to take lunch. Maybe hand deliver some résumés. Please tell Mr. Romero I’ll be back in an hour. Or not. Depends on whether or not his check clears.”

“Wise choice, Skye.”

It might have been helpful if I’d taken Dramamine before I watched Skye walk out of the office and to the elevators some forty feet away. I’ve always considered the female form movable, if at times lethal, art.

Danny Romero was none too pleased to see me as I made my way into his conference room.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

He jumped up from his seat at the head of his conference table and charged me. He tried to push me back through the door.

I gave him a half-power right cross to his jaw, knocking him back into a leather swivel chair.

“Hi, August.”

Jackie Ochoa, looking beautifully bored and unimpressed by the brief altercation.

“Hey, Jackie,” I said. “What’s shakin’, kiddo?”

“You fucking piece of shit!” Danny bellowed. He tried to stand, but I slapped him hard across his left cheek, which settled him back in his chair. No man likes to be punched. Every man hates to be slapped. It’s just damned emasculating.

“Quiet, Danny,” I said. “The adults are talking.”

“I’d hoped you and I could have a quiet moment together before I left town,” Jackie said. “Maybe over a nice dinner, exceptional pinot noir and Egyptian cotton sheets.”

“Sorry, Jackie,” I said. “Girlfriend’s in town. Besides, I think I’d be stuck with more than just the bill. Did a little digging. You’re up to your expensive cut-and-color in debt. Defaulting on two business loans in Sacramento and one in LA. Expensive condo in Carmel that’s in foreclosure. You’re bleeding money, Jackie. You and this sack of shit.”

“I’m calling the police,” Danny said, rubbing his left cheek and pulling his phone from his suit jacket.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Ask for Detective Captain Leo Cowling, homicide. He’d love to put me away! He’d also love to hear about a lawyer living beyond his means and in need of a big, fast payday. A hack whose obsession, Jackie Ochoa, had a solution to his problems and hers—namely, her own money issues and setting fire to the family tree. Being a woman in a culture that often prizes only male progeny takes a toll, doesn’t it, Jackie?”

“It does indeed, August,” she said. “Put the phone away, Danny.”

Locked in Jackie’s steely gaze, he obeyed after a long moment of hesitation.