“But now it doesn’t matter. Things have changed with Ellen dead. They’re leaning on me for anything I know about the Lady, about the business. If I don’t give them what I have in two days . . .” he said, trailing off with a shrug. I heard him, but I was also hearing the heart of the entire condominium. The bones of it creaking and settling. From the next room over, someone coughed loudly, twice. Under that, I could hear the buzz of the fan from Jackal’s bedroom. The air sent the dust ruffle of his couch gently waving back and forth. There was a stain on his carpet, brown, in the shape of a heart. Near the sofa. I’d never noticed.

Everything I’d worked for with Lou, and how hard I’d tried to be the woman the Lady wanted me to be, and now: nothing. Even if I got the money from Carrigan on time, the police were already closing in on the Lady’s operation. MacLeish was so eager for information on the Lady, but with Jackal’s photographs and a sworn statement, he wouldn’t need anything from me.

“Two more days,” I repeated.

“Two days,” he agreed. “And then I’ll start over somewhere else. Maybe Mexico. But you could do it, too, you could come with me. You’d testify against Lou, Lou and the Lady, of course. It’s the only way—someone has to take the fall. Especially since we don’t even have the Lady’s name, but we could still—”

“Testify against Lou?”

“I know,” he said. “I know. But what other option is there?”

I stared at him. “You’re not serious.” He didn’t say anything. I stared down at that heart on the carpet until I could think straight again. Even if the police already knew, I couldn’t let him testify against Lou. A small plan started to form, a not-very-good one, but I didn’t have anything better. “How much?”

“What?”

“How much,” I said, “for you to sell me those photographs before you split town? I’m not leaving with you, and I’m not testifying against Lou. So how much for you not to give those photos to the police? Name your price.”

“Jo, you can’t possibly think you can stay in Los Angeles now—”

“I’m not going to let you do this to her,” I snapped. “And I’m not leaving with you.”

“No,” he said, rubbing his face. He drained the glass, wouldn’t look at me. “I didn’t really think you would. But don’t you ever want to get out of here?” He refilled the glass, then stared at the liquid. Dumped it back out. He met my eyes and shook his head. “I do. Christ almighty, I do.”