Kelly put on her coat. She picked up Chloe's from the bed and went out to the hall.

He was at the staircase railing where it came up and curved into the open area of the hall, looking down at the lighted foyer. Kelly brushed the wall as she moved toward him, Montez waiting: That's what it looked like, waiting for someone to appear. He called out, "Hey!" and it stopped her. He waited again.

Now he was running down the carpeted stairway.

Kelly moved along the wall to the stair rail, dropped to her hands and knees and looked down at the foyer, empty, through the marble balusters. She was directly over the short hallway to the living room. She could hear voices now but not what they were saying. Montez' voice and another one and another one, three different sounds in what could be an argument, two against one. She stood up to listen, draping Chloe's coat over the railing, and dropped down again pulling the coat with her.

Through the balusters now she watched two men in black raincoats and baseball caps cross the foyer to the front door. Now they turned to look back and stood there: both white, both about fifty-they looked short-nothing out of the ordinary about them, just guys, like workingmen. One held a gun, an automatic, the other a bottle of vodka by the neck, the one the old man had been drinking. The guy with the gun pointed it at the hallway and said, "Day after tomorrow, Smoke."

This one opened the door and Montez' voice came from somewhere below Kelly crouched behind the railing:

"Bust it!"

The two stepped outside, closed the door, and a shower of pink glass exploded into the foyer.

Her impulse was to run straight down the stairs and out the front door, gone, never here, right now, do it. But she hesitated. She'd forgotten her handbag, goddamn it, not thinking, in the bathroom and knew she couldn't leave it, her name on credit cards, her driver's license: She shouldn't be here. She didn't want to come in the first place. She was here but didn't want to see what was in the living room. If she didn't know what happened-what Montez knew, standing at the bedroom door, was about to happen:

He came out of the hallway to the foyer, turned and looked up, sensing her or seeing her through the balusters and it was too late to run. She got to her feet and waited as he came up the stairway.

Montez saying, "That nigga was an ugly motherfucker, huh? At first I thought he had on a ski mask. You saw him, didn't you?"

Kelly hesitated.

And Montez said, "Be careful what you say, girl. What happened, I was standing right where you are. Came out here when I heard the shots. Saw him down there, yelled at him I had a gun and he took off out the door. You didn't see the nigga, you still in the room. Understand? But that's what happened." He held out his hand to her saying, "Come on, I want to show you something," took Chloe's coat from her and draped it over the stair rail.

They went down to the living room, Montez talking, telling her, "I want you look at your friend, help you understand the kind of situation you're in. See what can happen you don't do what I tell you. You get sick, you clean it up, hear?" Crossing the living room he stopped halfway to the chair and turned her to face him.

"You know what you gonna see, Mr. Paradise and your friend Kelly sitting there dead."

She said, "I'm Kelly," reacting, not thinking.

And Montez said, "Uh-unh, you're Chloe."

He brought her upstairs again to the bedroom, the lamp still on. Kelly went in the bathroom to get her cigarettes and lighter, needing something to hold on to, Montez saying, "Come out here. Before I make the call, me and you gonna have an understanding."

"You knew," Kelly said, "standing by the door."

"I knew the old man's time had come-Jesus, finally. Your friend, y'all had come yesterday like you suppose to she'd still be alive. That nigga, the home invader, he sees her with the man, she's a witness. It's too bad but it's how it is. Wrong place at the wrong time."

"Chloe," Kelly said. "Why can't you say her name?"

"I told you, you're Chloe. It's your name till we finish some business. Go sit over there and don't think about nothing while I'm talking to you." His voice eased as he said, "You keep seeing her, huh? Knowing it could be you down there." He said, "Don't move, I'll be right back."

He had brought her across the living room to stand in front of the chair and the shock of what she saw turned her head. His hand clamped on the back of her neck, forcing her to look, and this time she gave herself up to the sight of Chloe's body. She didn't look at the old man. She stared at Chloe. With the blood, the eye makeup, it didn't look like Chloe, but it was and Kelly had to take a breath and another one, inhale and breathe slowly, compose herself and accept the sight of Chloe dead. Just that right now, nothing else. She reached for the hem of Chloe's skirt to pull it down. Montez said, "Uh-unh," caught her hand and told her to leave it be.

He came back in the bedroom with a bong, stopped to light it and suck up the smoke, the pipe bubbling in its quiet way. He loaded it again with a pinch of weed from a baggie, lit the pipe, covered the hole with his thumb and extended the bong. Kelly put her mouth over the top and inhaled the smoke swirling in the glass tube. Montez said, "One more," and lit it again. Kelly took another hit, not saying a word, and he placed the bong on the dresser.

He said, "You realize that coin flip saved your life? Man, I was thinking fast how to keep Chloe from being in the chair with him. He makes that remark, how he tries to treat me with respect but I'm never satisfied? Meaning I wasn't kissing his old wrinkled white ass no more? That's when I said to myself, let it play out. Let some ugly brother bust in and shoot the motherfucker."

She didn't argue with him, she was careful saying, "You wanted Chloe knowing the old man was leaving her something."

"That I'd help her get," Montez said. "She told you about that, huh? Good, it saves me some explaining."

"In a bank deposit box," Kelly said.

"She tell you what bank?"

"No, or what's in the box."

"We'll keep it that way till the time comes. Gonna have to work it out with you, give you a cut for being Chloe."

"What's it worth?"

"The man said a million six."

"That's all?"

"A long time ago a million six, the way I understand it. See, and the amount keeps going up."

"Chloe said it was life insurance."

"Chloe didn't know shit. See, the box is in my name and the old man's. He's gone, now it's just in mine. Day after tomorrow I get what's in there and bring it to you."

"It's stock," Kelly said.

"You want to believe that, go ahead."

The confidence in his voice made her want to hit him with something heavy or kick him in the crotch, and it gave her energy, an attitude to hold on to, Kelly telling herself, You're smarter than he is. Use your head and get out of here.

She said, "You're crazy if you think I'll help you."

"Uh-unh, I'm desperate, so I know you will."

"I'm not Chloe. Anyone can see that."

"You close. We keep the police confused long enough, we home. You live with her, find her signature on something and learn to write it."

"Get another girl."

"It has to be you," Montez said, almost singing it, "no other will do."

Kelly walked to the chair by the window and saw her reflection against a dismal view of trees and shrubbery in different shades of darkness.

Sitting down she said, "I won't help you," and saw Montez appear on the glass pane, his face, and felt his hands on her shoulders.

"Come on now, you know what bullet holes look like. You say okay you gonna do it, but then tell the police you aren't who I say you are? I bet that ugly motherfucker be waiting for you some night you come home. Won't say nothing to you, just shoots you in the head. You might not even see him and you're gone. Understand what I'm saying? I ain't asking do you want to do it, you already in, girl. Now sit down like I told you."