The Tillamook Tavern was a squat, one-story workingman’s bar situated on a side street near an industrial park. On the same street were a rundown twenty-four-hour market with bars on its windows, which sold beer, cigarettes, and junk food, and a vacant, rubble-filled lot. Streetlights cast a pale yellow glow over one side of the bar but the only other light came from the neon sign with the tavern’s name and smaller neon signs in the narrow front windows, advertising brands of beer. There were two pickup trucks and a weather-beaten Chevy scattered around the tavern lot. Karl’s car was alone on the edge of a sea of asphalt in the last slot in the last row. When Amanda was a few rows from the DA’s car, she made out Burdett’s silhouette staring through the windshield into the darkness. Amanda parked a car length away. The DA did not look at her. She got out of her car and closed her hand around the grip of her gun. As she drew closer to Burdett’s car, Amanda noticed that the driver’s-side window was down.

“Karl?”

Burdett didn’t react. Amanda’s gut tightened. Something was wrong. She said the DA’s name again. Then she saw why Burdett hadn’t answered. He was staring straight ahead, slack-jawed, and there was a blood-rimmed bullet hole in his temple.

MIKE GREENE’S BLUE eyes were usually clear but were presently bloodshot, because he’d been awakened from a deep sleep. He parked on the street in front of the Tillamook Tavern, then walked around back, where he talked to the first officer on the scene and the forensic experts who were processing it. When he’d seen enough, he went inside the tavern and found Amanda in a booth in the rear of the bar. Sitting across from her was Billie Brewster, a slim black woman with close-cropped hair, dressed in jeans, a black Tupac Shakur memorial T-shirt, and Mercury running shoes. Billie, one of the top homicide detectives in the Portland Police Bureau, had been the investigating officer in several of Amanda’s cases and they had become good friends.

“This is a pretty extreme way of getting a date, Jaffe,” Mike said as he pulled a chair up to the booth and straddled it.

“Hey, bozo, your woman’s shook up,” Brewster said, “so can the gallows humor.”

“How are you doing?” Mike asked, suddenly serious.

“I’m okay. It’s not like I haven’t seen a dead man before. It was just a shock finding him.” Amanda shook her head. “I never liked Karl. He could be a pompous ass. But I’d never wish anything like this on him. If only I’d gotten here sooner, I might have scared off the person who shot him.”

“Or gotten yourself killed,” Brewster said.

“How did you happen to be the one who found him?” Mike asked, and Amanda told him about the phone call.

“And you have no idea what he wanted to tell you?” Greene asked when she was through.

“Only that it had something to do with Charlie Marsh.”

Amanda paused. “There is something.” She hesitated.

“Yes,” Mike prodded.

“Burdett has been acting…” She paused again. “I guess ‘weird’ is a good way to describe his behavior.”

“Weird?” Mike repeated.

Amanda told Mike and Billie about the bail hearing.

“I was really surprised when he didn’t fight Charlie’s bail and I couldn’t understand why he seemed upset when he conceded the issue. If he didn’t want Charlie out on bail all he had to do was contest my motion. What with Charlie skipping the country initially and this being a murder case, Karl would have had a good chance of convincing Judge Berkowitz to deny bail altogether.”

Amanda paused again as she reran Burdett’s actions at the bail hearing through her memory.

“You know, now that I think about it, Karl behaved more like a subordinate who was carrying out an order he didn’t agree with than the district attorney of the county, the man in charge. And there was the way he acted when he learned that a sniper had taken a shot at Charlie. He was much more upset than I would have thought he’d be.”

“I’d be very upset if someone tried to commit murder in front of the Multnomah County courthouse,” Mike said.

“I know. Anyone would. But Karl…I don’t know how to describe it. I just had the feeling that there was more to his reaction than simple anger or sympathy for Charlie.”

Amanda closed her eyes and sighed. “I’m beat, Mike. If you and Billie don’t need me I’d like to go home.”

“I took her statement,” Brewster told Mike as she stood up. “And I know where to find you if I need anything else,” she said to Amanda, “so I’ll leave you lovebirds alone.”

“Do you want me to stay over?” Mike asked as soon as the detective was out of earshot.

“Yeah, that would be nice. I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Okay, let me check with the ME. Then we can head out.”

AMANDA PEELED OFF her clothes as soon as she was in her condo. Then she flossed and brushed her teeth as quickly as possible before staggering into bed. Mike tucked her in and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The prosecutor made a few calls in the living room to check on the progress of the investigation before going back to the bedroom. Mike and Amanda had grown close during the past year and he smiled as he watched her sleep. Then his exhaustion caught up to him and he crawled into bed beside her, falling asleep soon after he closed his eyes.

Shortly after three in the morning, Amanda’s subconscious set off an alarm that jerked her awake. Karl Burdett had said something during his call that Amanda had forgotten to tell Billie Brewster and Mike Greene and she suddenly remembered what it was. She was tempted to wake Mike but he was sleeping so soundly that she crept out of bed, not wanting to disturb him. Her cell phone was in her purse on the kitchen counter along with the card Daniel Cordova had given her. Amanda walked as far from the bedroom as she could and used the light from the phone to read the number on the card.

“Agent Cordova, this is Amanda Jaffe,” she said as soon as the FBI agent answered the phone. “Have you heard what happened tonight?”

“Happened to what?” Cordova answered. He sounded groggy and annoyed, which didn’t surprise Amanda.

“Karl Burdett was shot to death.”

“Dear God!” Cordova said, instantly awake.

“I was working late. Karl called me. He was very upset and he sounded like he’d been drinking. He said he was in over his head. He also said that he hadn’t realized that he was in over his head until he talked to you. Can you think of something you said to Karl that frightened him?”

“No.” Cordova sounded puzzled. “I did talk to him but it was a courtesy call.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We arrested Gary Hass in Sacramento. He was part of the muscle for a large heroin sale and we swept him up when we made the collar. It turns out he was in California when the sniper shot at your client. I called so Burdett wouldn’t waste time on a dead end.”

“And that’s all you talked about?”

“Yes. It was a short conversation.”

Amanda talked to the agent for a few more minutes, then she hung up. It wasn’t obvious at first why Cordova’s information about Hass had shaken up Karl Burdett but the germ of an idea was beginning to form.

MIKE GREENE BEGAN to get suspicious when the aroma of freshly brewed coffee woke him from a sound sleep. His suspicions grew when he wandered into the dining area of Amanda’s loft and found a glass of orange juice waiting at a table setting. A full-blown alarm sounded when Amanda asked him what kind of omelet he wanted for breakfast.

Amanda wasn’t a terrible cook but Mike knew she didn’t like to spend time in the kitchen. When he stayed over, they usually ate out or he fixed breakfast. If she was up early cooking for him, Mike was certain it meant she wanted something he wouldn’t want to give her.