"Yeah, except we thought of that and checked it out and he's not there either. So why don't you just tell me where he did go.>"

  "All I know is what he told me. He said he was going to hire some bodyguards along with the home care nurses—he's got all that money from the lawsuit, you know. If he didn't go home, I have no idea where he went. He was really afraid of you."

  She saw a look of gratification pass over Fredo's face, and knew she was on the right track.

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  She said, "Maybe Mr. Nacht just decided the best way to be clear of you was go someplace you wouldn't think to look, and set up his home care there."

  Quit while you^re ahead. Don^t overdo it.

  "Okay, but are you telling me old Jake wouldn't give his new address to his nurse, a gorgeous babe who waited on him hand and foot for months.> He must have had a serious case of the hots for you, right.>"

  Angel remembered the last time she had seen Jake, the wonderful feel of his hands on her face, his body against her. She said, "I don't know what Jake thought of me. I don't think he thought anything. What would be the use.>"

  Fredo leaned back a few inches, giving her a look of incredulity. "You saying because he couldn't get it up, he wouldn't even think about it.>"

  "Would you.>"

  Fredo pursed his lips. "You bet I would. You were my nurse, I'd think about you all the time. I might wish I didn't, but I would."

  "That's . . . very flattering. But you're not really putting yourself in Jake's position. His body feels nothing. He is chronically depressed. What he thinks most about is dying."

  Fredo took a deep breath, let it out. She could almost see the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders winding down a notch.

  "I'd like to believe you. Angel."

  ni bet you would.

  "But I'd like it even better if I could just drop in on Jake in his new digs. Maybe if you think about it a little longer, you'll come up with an address."

  "I'm telling you, I don't know."

  "How's that collar.> Getting a litde tight.>"

  Angel swallowed. "Couldn't you take it off? There's no way out of here. Where am I going to go?"

  "I think we'll leave it on a litde longer."

  m

  F. PAUL WILSON AND STEVE LYON

  "My knees keep giving out. If I choke to death, I'm no good to you."

  Fredo cocked his head. "Good for what.> You think maybe you will remember where Jake went.> Or are you making me some other kindofoffer.^"

  "I'm telling you, I don't know where Jake is." Angel hesitated, sensing the slippery ground they were now treading. Despite his crude manner, Fredo was not a stupid man. He would not believe that she could willingly make love to him. "There's nothing I can give you," she said, "but if I die, there won't be much you can take either, will there .>"

  Fredo's eyes went moist with lust; she suppressed a shudder. "You make a good point," he said.

  Reaching above her, Fredo did something to the chain and she felt it slacken. At once, she sank down, hearing the links ratde through the hoop above her. The relief in her legs was wonderful, but when her rear met the floor, the chain stopped rattling, pulling her up short. Now, instead of having to stand very straight, she had to sit straight. "Couldn't you let the chain out a little more so I could lie down on the floor.>"

  Fredo shook his head. "A little tension will be good for you, help you think. I believe we may still have business, sweet thing, and I never mix business with pleasure. You be a good girl and teU me what I want to know, and the lying down will come later."

  Angel felt the tears welling up and stopped them, but not before he saw. A new, sick greed in his eyes made her throat close with nausea. He knelt in front of her. "Maybe just a litde sample won't hurt." His voice was hoarse now. Twining a hand into her hair, he pressed his face against hers, mashing her lips, kissing her throat just above the chain. Instinctively, she held very still, terrified of bringing the predator in him fiilly awake. Her passivity seemed to work. He released her hair with a rough shove that banged her head against the wall.

  "You think I'm bad.>" he asked. "I'U teU you who's bad. Your Jake. It wasn't just Senator Weingarten, you know. In fact, Wein-

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  garten is the only one he ever missed. Your patient made his living as a contract killer. Cash for a corpse. Seventeen corpses that I know of. Who knows how many more.> Now that^s bad."

  All the horror she had managed until now to hold at bay welled up in her. It was true, then. Jake was an assassin. Seventeen men. Dear God, NO —

  She realized Fredo was gazing keenly at her, wanting to know if she cared about Jake, if she might actually have loved Jake, and she knew that if he decided that, he would throw away everything she had said. With a fierce effort, she kept her face impassive.

  But when Fredo was gone. Angel cried until there were no more tears.

  ON Tll[ MOV[

  "You can get up now," Graham said from the front seat.

  Jake raised his head and stared out the car's rear window. The street behind them stretched away dark and empty.

  "I'll be damned," he said. "It worked. I guess they're not interested where you go."

  "I can live with that," Graham said. "Where do we go now.>"

  Jake had been thinking about the next step as he'd lain on the floor. "Get me back to the hospital and find me a phone so I can call Fredo."

  "Why the hospital.?"

  "You can bet he's got caller ID. If he traces me, I want him to find out I called from some sort of medical place."

  "You're worried about being traced.?" Graham said, reaching into his coat pocket. "Let him trace this." He handed something over his shoulder.

  Jake recognized the object as soon as he touched it. A cell phone. "Great. Why didn't you tell me you had one.?"

  "Why didn't you ask.? I doubt there's a surgeon in the country who isn't attached to one."

  This was perfect. Cellular calls were only sightly more secure

  F. PAUL WILSON AND STEVE LYON

  than two people shouting back and forth across an alley, but as long as Jake turned it off between calls, Fredo would never be able to trace him through it.

  Jake knew how to reach Fredo. He placed a call to Mr. C's restaurant supply company in Atlantic City. The New Jersey Gaming Commission made a big deal of keeping anyone with mob connections from owning the smallest piece of an AC casino. But that didn't stop AC from being the Lucanza family's top profit center. Mr. C and his boys saw to it that every tablecloth, every bedsheet, every morsel of food going through those casinos came—at premium prices—from First Class Restaurant Supplies, Inc. If not, all sorts of unfortunate foul-ups happened . . . plumbing backups, air-conditioning breakdowns, fires, power failures . . . worse than breaking a hundred mirrors.

  The First Class office also doubled as a control center for the family's drug and prostitution networks in Fun City.

  That was where Fredo would be.

  "Hello, First Class," a gruff male voice said after Jake had dialed.

  "Lemme speak to Fredo."

  "Yeah.>" The voice became cautious. "Fredo who.>"

  "Fredo Papillardi." Jake knew Fredo wouldn't be there at this hour, but they'd damn well know where to find him.

  "Who's calling.^"

  "Just tell him it's a guy with a burn on his foot. And he can reach me here." Jake gave him the cellular phone number, then hung up.

  "Won't be long," he told Graham. "Meanwhile, let's find my car."

  They spent the next fifteen minutes switching to the Jeep and starting for New Jersey. Jake let Graham do the driving while he rehearsed how he'd play Fredo. His next conversation was going to be very tricky. His delivery had to be perfect, his timing flawless.

  The cell phone began chirping as they hit the westbound up-

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  slope of t±ie Verrazano Narrows Bridge. Jake composed himself, sealing off his emotions so he wouldn't start shouting at the sound of the weasel's voice. Had to act cool, dispassionate. He let it ring three times, then hit the send button.

  "Hello, Fredo."

  "Jakey!" said Fredo's voice with patently false joviality. "I miss ya, buddy! Where the hell are you.>"

  "Where the hell do you think.> In bed . . . with someone holding the phone to my ear."

  "That must be uncomfortable. Give me your address and we'll have a nice face-to-face, just like the old days."

  "And let you burn another hole in my foot.> Not a chance. You shouldn't have done that, Fredo."

  "Hey, I was just testing you."

  "Did I pass.>"

  "I thought so. But then I sent someone around to keep tabs on you and you were gone. You flew the coop, Jakey, and didn't leave no forwarding address." An edge crept into his voice. "T(9w shouldn't have done that.''''

  "Hey, Fredo. You had me at a disadvantage. I don't like being at a disadvantage. So I moved. Now I'm set up in new digs."

  "Yeah.> Where.>"

  Jake forced a laugh. "Uh-uh. That's my secret. I just called to let you know that burning me was a big mistake."

  "What.' You still whining about that littie cigarette thing. You ought a—"

  "No, Fredo. Not the litde burn . . . the bi£i burn. The one last year."

  "Now you wait just a flickin' minute. I didn't have nothin'—"

  "Yes, you did, Fredo," Jake said softly. "And now it's payback time."

  "Like I'm shakin'!" The laugh sounded forced. "Like you can do shit!"

  "Not personally. But I've got plenty of money. And I'm going

  F. PAUL WILSON AND STEVE LYON

  to spend it all. I'm hiring some talent—a few Dominicans, a few Colombians, all of who'd like a piece of your action anyway—and I'm sending them after you."

  "Yeah, right. Like you'd be warning me."

  Now came the hairy part. He was going to hang up on Fredo.

  "Oh, I want you to know, Fredo. I want you looking over your shoulder. And before you go, I'm gonna see you crawl. You're gonna look bad before you feel bad. It's coming, Fredo. See ya."

  He hit the End button and leaned back, praying. . . .

  Graham was staring at him. "What are you doin£f? You didn't find out anything about—"

  "Just wait. . . and hope he calls back. And no matter what you hear me say—no matter what —don't make a sound."

  The phone chirped again. Jake closed his eyes and bit his upper lip. It had worked.

  He let it go only two rings this time, then hit Send and said, "You're not going to change my mind, Fredo. Good-bye."

  "Hey, wait!" Fredo said. "Don't you want to hear about the girl.>"

  "What girl.>"

  "Your girlfriend! Don't you want to know how she's doing.>"

  "You're really asking for it, aren't you, Fredo. Good-bye."

  "Your nurse, asshole! Angel Whatever-her-name-is!"

  "Angel.>" Jake said, controlling his voice. "What about her.>"

  "She's, um, visiting me." Good old Fredo—always worried about a tap.

  "Didn't her uncle tell you.>"

  "Who gives a damn if he did or didn't. What I can't figure is why you think you need leverage on Graham—"

  "Not Graham, you jerk— you.''

  "Me.> I don't get it, Fredo."

  "Don't bullshit me, man. I know you've got the hots for her."

  "Hots.> My hots days are gone forever. She was good to me, and I hate to think of anything bad happening to her, but I know you, Fredo. She's probably fish food already. So what's the point.>"

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  "No, listen. She's fine. You can talk to her if you want."

  "Put her on, then."

  "Hey, she's not with me at the moment. She's out at one of the casinos, but I could have her call you. Better yet, have her come visit you. She wants to see you. And I know you want that, too."

  "Let me tell you what I want," Jake said, letting his true emotions leak through. "I want your head. That's all I want from life. You made me dead fi-om the neck down, so I'm gonna see you ^one from the neck down. And after they bring me your head, my life will be complete. So I'm gonna have them sit me in a chair with your head in my lap, and then put a bullet through my brain. That's how they'll find you, Fredo—that's how you'll be remembered: facedown in Jake Nacht's lap."

  He cut the connection then, turned off" the phone, and leaned back, sweating.

  "Are you crazyT"" Graham shouted. He was glaring at Jake, and the Jeep was drifting toward the median on 278 at a good sixty miles an hour.

  "Watch where you're going," Jake said.

  Graham straightened the wheel but kept on shouting. "That was the most idiotic thing I've ever heard! You deliberately provoked him! God knows what he'll do to Angel now!"

  "Take it easy. Doctor. Now we know she's still alive, and—"

  "She won't be for long, no thanks to you! Why did you do that.>"

  "To keep him off" balance." With an effort, Jake kept his patience. "Look, now Fredo doesn't know what to think. Am I bluffing or have I really hired some shooters.^ He'll be circling the wagons, but being low-key about it. He won't want to look like he's been spooked by a cripple, but the fact is, now he'll be too busy watching his back to pay much attention to Angel. I've put her out of focus for him. He'll find it hard to believe I feel nothing for her, but since he can't be sure, it'll take steam out of his plans to hurt her to get to me. But he'll keep her around, don't

  F. PAUL WILSON AND STEVE LYON

  worry about that. He's too smart to throw out any options at this point."

  "You hope.^^ Graham's voice had lost some volume now.

  "I know Fredo—a hell of a lot better than I want to, and a far sight better than you do. I'm telling you, he won't kill her—not yet." Jake wished he could be as sure as he sounded.

  "Not yet," Graham repeated. "Why doesn't that reassure me.> How long do you think you can draw out this bluffi"

  "Who says it's a bluffi And worse comes to worst, I'll trade myself for her." His own words starded him. Where the hell had that come from.^

  And yet he meant it. He'd do it. Christ, it was crazy—precisely as crazy as the way he'd let himself fall in love with her. Put himself in the hands of the man he hated more than anyone, let that man gloat over him, torture him, then kill him.>

  Right; he'd do it, no question.

  Amazing—and scary.

  Graham was staring at him again. "You'd give your life for her?"

  Jake shrugged. "Why not.>"

  He was uncomfortable with the scrutiny. How had he fallen into the role of self-sacrificing hero.> He wasn't a hero. He simply couldn't let anything happen to Angel.

  He noticed the Jeep veering across the lanes again.

  "I won't be able to do a damn thing if you break my neck again. I mean, I'd like to get off Staten Island alive, okay.>"

  Graham faced front and made the turn for the West Shore Parkway. "Why do I believe you ... a man like you.>"

  "That is a real stumper," Jake said dryly. "Maybe it's because you're desperate, and I'm all she's got right now."

  "There's the police—"

  "Forget the police, will you. I told you, soon as you call in, Fredo will know."

  "Even in Adantic City.>"

  "Especially in ACr

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  "But what's going to happen to Angel when this attack on Fredo doesn't materialize?"

  "Oh, it's going to materialize. I'm going to materialize it. And when I do, sooner or later he'll lead us to Angel."

  Graham went quiet for a while, leaving Jake free to puzzle out how he was going to bring this off. Trading himself for Angel was pretty far down his list of preferences—Plan X. Plan A was to get himself and her out of AC in one piece.

  He wondered if he had a chance. His legs seemed okay now, but the way they'd given out on him earlier still scared him. Was it "neuronal fatigue" like the doc had said, or something else.> Something worse .> Some sort of breakdown that would put him back in bed . . . .>

  "You're going to need help," Graham said as they came off the Outerbridge Crossing into Jersey. "I mean, if you want to convince this Fredo you've really hired people to get him."

  "That's what I've been trying to figure out: how to split myself into a couple of pieces."

  "I'll help."

  Jake glanced at Graham's pinched face peering intently through the windshield, the overhead lights strobing off his wire-rimmed glasses. "You kidding me.>"

  "I'm quite serious. I want to do this. Angel isn't just my niece. She's the closest thing I'll ever have to a daughter. How can I go back to my sister—hell, how can I live with myself i I don't do everything possible to get her back.>"

  "Can you shoot.>"

  "I told you I was in Nam. And what's there to shooting.^ You point, pull a trigger—"

  "And maybe try to hit something. You have any r^^^w/-shooting experience.^ Like a pistol range or something.^"

  "No, but—"

  "But nothing. Forget it. You'll only get in the way."

  "I can pull a trigger, damnit! That doesn't take any skill. Look

  F. PAUL WILSON AND STEVE LYON

  at the morons running around the streets shooting at each other. What training have they had? I can do what they do. If I hit something, fine. But even if I don't, I can make a lot of noise. I can be another gunman after Fredo, which will make him think you really huve hired people to get him."

  Jake thought about that. Not a bad idea, really. With Graham he could attack Fredo from two angles. Really scare him.

  "You might have an idea there. Doc. Maybe you do a drive-by or two—you shoot 'em up one side while I take the other—then we're out of there. Hit and run. High noise, low precision. Just the opposite of what they'd expect if it was me."

  "As I told you before, I do have a brain."

  "And a brain is a terrible thing to waste." Jake paused. He didn't want Graham to take this too lightly. "They will be shooting back. I hope you realize that."

  Graham glanced at him, then back to the road. He took a deep breath.