"Whatever… Sorry if I jumped the gun, Alex. I didn't want to screw anything up. But sitting there, holding her, she's crying, her head on my shoulder, I could just see something happening, and all she needed was another rejection. I figured-"

"Obviously, you figured right."

His smile was slow to form. "Mr. Validation- ever think of working with people?"

"Are you going to call the lab to do a crime scene?"

"If I do, this could get really messy. Once those wheels start rolling, it'll be impossible to keep it quiet. Someone's bound to talk: Bogeyman juror harassed… It's only a matter of time before the press dogs find out and start peeing all over it. Then they start focusing on her and learn she tried to kill herself and got committed. Who'd love that?"

"Shwandt's lawyers," I said. "Mentally ill juror. Grounds for instant reversal."

"Especially coming on the heels of the copycat. My bet is they'd get the whole thing thrown out."

"Lucy would be humiliated," I said.

"Big time." He got up and paced.

I looked over at the note. "Is there any conceivable way this could be related to the copycat? Could the Bogettes or someone else in Shwandt's camp have hatched up some scheme to get his conviction reversed?"

"Who the hell knows? Those girls are crazy as shit. Low-IQ fanaticism, the worst kind."

"It would sure be a low-IQ plan. No other jury will ever let Shwandt walk the street again."

"Yeah, but if he's in court, they get to see him. For all I know, they're planning to liberate him out of there."

I read the note again. " 'Die twice.' Could that mean humiliation as well as the real thing?"

He shrugged. The shower stopped.

"Okay," he said. "Till we clear this up, priority one is keeping her safe. If she manufactured this, the worst thing is I get snookered. So where do I stash her? She says she's got no close friends and no family other than him." Glancing at the picture on the TV. "And he is a junkie, by the way."

"I know," I said. "His father told me."

"When did you speak with him?"

"Yesterday. I tried to get hold of you to tell you. I have some other stuff to talk about too, but let's figure out what to do with Lucy first."

"I could put her in a hotel, but any place above a fleabag is gonna eat into her money pretty damn fast."

"What about Ken? He's in real estate- deals with distressed properties. Even if he doesn't have anything himself, he might know of a low-cost, short-term rental. Here or up in Palo Alto. Maybe she should go out of town for a while."

"It's a thought," he said. "She talked about him a little, wanting to thank him for saving her but not knowing how to approach him. How weird it was having a brother she didn't know. Then she changed the subject to the Puckster. Worried that he hasn't called."

"Worried, not angry?"

"Worried. I got the feeling she's been worrying about him for a long time."

"I'm sure she has," I said. "She say anything more about him?"

"No, and I didn't push… Okay, can you reach Ken?"

"I've got his card."

The bedroom door opened and Lucy came in the room, toweling her hair.

"Definitely nothing else missing," she said. "My stuff's all intact."

"Good," said Milo. He got up and held out a chair for her.

18

"Another trial," she said. "Carrie's poor parents going through it again- all the families. You really think those horrible girls could be behind this?"

"We don't know," said Milo. "But publicity's their meat. That's why we want to keep you safe and do it quietly."

"My-" She bit her lip.

"What, Lucy?" I said.

"The… oven. I'd been starting to wonder if I really- but do you think someone could have done that to me? Drugged me somehow? Remember how I mentioned feeling drugged to you, a couple of sessions ago?"

I nodded.

"I thought I was just tired," she said. "Too much work, not enough sleep. But- could it be?"

"Anything's possible," I said.

She raised her knees to her chin. Her arms were around her legs and her body looked very small. "Well, do what you need to get to the bottom of it. Don't worry about me, I'll handle whatever comes along."

"Publicity would mean more than just a new trial," I said. "Instant celebrity, including the three days you spent at Woodbridge."

That made her flinch. "Oh… the crazy juror… oh, boy."

Looking at Milo.

He said, "I'm going to fingerprint your apartment myself instead of calling in the lab. It'll take longer, but I'll be able to keep it under wraps. Depending upon what I find, we'll take it from there. Has anyone visited you recently?"

"No. No one."

"I'll also find you a temporary place for the next day or so. After that, we thought we'd ask Ken to look into something 'cause he's in real estate. You okay with that?"

"Guess so. Sure." To me: "Would he want to?"

"At the hospital he mentioned wanting to meet you. Though I'm sure he's a little nervous about it."

She smiled. "Like I'm really scary."

"The unknown is scary."

The smile faded.

She began packing, and I returned to Malibu and called Ken's office. No secretary. I spoke to his answering-machine tape, and he came on the line as soon as I mentioned my name.

"Hi, doc, what's up?"

I told him.

"Someone broke in?"

"Lucy said she found the door open when she came home."

"Shit. I bet I left it open. I was in such a hurry to get her to the hospital-"

"No, the lock was fixed after that, and the handyman claims the door was locked. So either he was careless or someone jimmied it."

"Why would- maybe someone was casing the neighborhood, knew she was out. Did they take anything?"

"No, they just left the note. Detective Sturgis is looking into it, but we need to keep it quiet. To avoid publicity that might hurt Lucy and give Shwandt a retrial."

"Hurt her how?"

"If the story gets out, someone could do some checking and find out about her seventy-two hours at Woodbridge."

"Oh. Yeah, I see what you mean. That would be terrible."

"In the meantime, we're trying to find a safe place for her to stay. Your brother's still out of town, and we wondered if you could put her up in Palo Alto."

"That's okay with Lucy?"

"She's a bit nervous about meeting you, but you'd be doing her a great favor."

"Then, sure. But she doesn't even need to come up here. The company's got lots of vacant properties in L.A. Most are low-income, but some are pretty nice… I think there's a really good one in Brentwood, totally furnished. I was planning to fly down tonight anyway; let me check- unless you think she should leave town."

"No," I said. "A secure place down here would be fine."

"I could stay with her, if that'll help. I couldn't stick with her every moment, but I'd be home most nights."

"Sounds good. Thanks, Ken."

"Sure, no problem. Glad to be useful."

Milo called at three-thirty to say he was on the way over. He arrived just after four.

"Got her over at the Ramada on Beverly Drive and Pico, registered under my name." He gave me the room and the phone number.

"She okay by herself?"

"Seems to be. I gave her all the usual precautions, though I can't see how anyone could possibly find her there."

"After spending more time with her, any new thoughts about her credibility?"

"She seems goddamn credible, nothing shaky or flaky. If she's lying, she's either totally nuts or a stone psychopath, and I can't believe I'm that gullible."