She wanted to plug her ears, but he sang the Sirens’ song. She had to listen, even though she knew she risked being eaten alive. The allure of his words was their truth. It was hard, though, to accept that he knew her better than she knew herself. Perhaps when he had peeled away her flesh with his acid he had seen more than was humanly possible. He did not appear human in that moment. More a demon dug from a crypt in a stinking bog. Suddenly, the cold breeze coming through the open windows carried the stench of their last encounter. Nausea swelled in her dissected stomach. He was right, she wanted to reach for her gun and put a bullet in his brain. He nodded as she shook before him.

“We owe each other,” he said.

“I owe you nothing!”

“Had you aimed a fraction of an inch higher my pain would have stopped that afternoon. Had you put a second bullet in me it would have ended forever.” He added sadly, “But you chose not to.”

Suddenly she understood what he was asking of her. In return.

“I had other things on my mind. Like saving my internal organs. We waste time with your psycho babble. You want to die and you need someone to help you along, then write Popeye into your will and have him shoot air into your veins.”

“I asked. But he’s a born-again Christian.”

“He looks like a Satan worshipper.”

“He reads the Bible three hours a day.”

“There must be someone else you can find to help you commit suicide.”

“There isn’t.”

“Well, I’m sorry but I’m not going to volunteer my services.”

“But you have to. You need my help and I need yours.”

“I don’t need you that desperately. I’ll solve the case on my own.”

“The case is immaterial. You need me dead. You won’t rest until I am.”

She started to respond and stopped. Again, the truth of his words clawed at her. Too many times, late at night, she would imagine him here in this room thinking about her. His memory would overlap with her own. She would hear those five women on the video screaming and the noise would sometimes actually sound exciting. He was a dragon—his breath blistered her life. She could not bite into a red apple without seeing dripping blood. How had he known of Tony’s betrayal?

“You want to make a deal with me,” she whispered. “What is it?”

“You kill me. But before you do, in exchange, I’ll give you the location of Matt Connor. And after you kill me, you get peace of mind.”

“In jail. I’ll be the first person they come looking for.”

“You’re clever. You’ll figure out a way not to go to jail.”

“Where’s Matt?”

“Do you agree to my terms?”