She hesitated, and I wondered if she, too, was awake at this hour because of the anger and pictures in her head. She answered guardedly. Because of the other voices.

"Yes. Oh, sure. I understand."

She tried to make her voice light and conversational, as if she had gotten a call from a friend.

"You told me Stephen had something on you. Were you talking about the pictures?"

She didn't answer.

"Yes or no, Margaret. You don't have to say anything more than that."

"That's right."

"He had pictures of you having sex that he used in a blackmail scam, and he threatened to implicate you unless you continued to work for him. Yes or no."

"Yes."

"Those pictures no longer exist. You're free."

I hung up without waiting for her to respond. I put down the phone, then went back upstairs to bed.

After a while, the darkness was not so foreboding. I slept.

Chapter 36

Starkey S tarkey suffered a miserable night after she woke from the dream; she sucked down a cigarette, then tried to go back to sleep, but every time the shadows took shape, she startled awake. Once, she glimpsed Sugar; another time, Jack Pell; but mostly it was Cole, the same terrible dream again and again. When Pell came to her, he smiled with bright bulging eyes and pointed at something behind her, but Starkey didn't turn fast enough and woke in the darkness before she could see. Finally, Starkey told herself to stop being stupid. She got out of bed.

Starkey glugged down a hit of antacid that tasted like mint-flavored snot, then made a cup of hot chocolate. She hadn't been able to drink coffee since the bomb. She missed it, but coffee fired the scars in her stomach like alcohol poured on a fresh cut. Her stomach was a mess.

Starkey sat at her kitchen table, smoking as she thought about Cole, up there right now with Little Miss Honey-dipped Southern Comfort. Starkey was in love with the goofy doofus, that's all there was to it, and hadn't been able to shake it off. It was so bad she thought up reasons to call him, cruised his house in the middle of the night, and even called Pike, thinking maybe she could get to Cole through Man's Best Friend. The whole damn mess left her feeling like a degenerate.

Starkey made up her mind. She had to sit down with Cole, and lay it out: Look, Cole, I'm in love with you, okay? I want to be with you. What do you think?

Starkey saw the scene in her head, playing it through, then jabbed her cigarette into the chocolate. She didn't have the guts. Here she was, the same woman who used to de-arm bombs, and she knew she wouldn't have the courage to risk his answer. What a frigging mess.

Starkey lit a fresh smoke, pulled the heat deep, and coughed. Thank God she had cigarettes.