“Dmitri Novakov! What an unexpected pleasure.” The Boss looked them both over, then chuckled. “An embarrassment of riches, to be sure.”

“You suck,” Caitlyn informed him, bringing a ghost of a smile to Dmitri’s face, a smile that disappeared as suddenly as it had shown up. “In every possible way. Now you’ve got lab weenies being axed in your own offices? How lame is that? How lame are you? This place is lousy with security.”

“Not lousy enough, apparently. Thank you both for coming, and so quickly too. Have a seat,” he added, gesturing to the two chairs in front of his desk.

“Pass. Getting all comfy and chatty in here is nowhere on my to-do list. So, what? Everyone on the Wagner team is dead now?”

“Almost. There’s one left, Dr. Roe. She’s in protective custody this minute.”

“Well, finally. It took only…what? Four murders?”

The Boss didn’t say anything, but looked stricken for a moment, such a brief moment quickly followed by his usual blank-faced imperturbability that she wondered if she’d imagined the expression.

“Well, great,” Caitlyn fretted, resisting the impulse to pace. “This is all just…great.”

“You’re so quiet, Dmitri,” the Boss said, glancing over at him. It was impossible to tell how the odious, evil man felt about the Wolf being there. “How uncharacteristic.”

“His skin’s crawling just being on the same city block as you, creep, and I know exactly how he feels.”

“Right,” Dmitri said, that small smile back. She was so glad to see it. He’d been odd after their mutual introduction into the Mile-High Club. Even quieter and more withdrawn than earlier, if that was possible.

“He thinks you’re the evilest man in the universe,” she continued, “just like I do, and for two cents he’d let you solve your own problems and fuck Dr. Roe.”

“Right,” Dmitri said, his smile broadening.

“Fuck poor defenseless Dr. Roe?” the Boss mock-gasped.

“Fuck you too,” Caitlyn replied rudely.

“Caitlyn, Caitlyn. Really, it pains me that we’re at odds all the time. Actually, I’ve come to realize of late that you and I have much more in common than I ever imagined.”

She made throwing-up noises and Dmitri tightened his lips, looking like someone struggling with laughter. Well, maybe he had a bellyache. “We don’t have anything in common, you ogre.”

The Boss sniffed. “Ah, the soul of maturity, even in a crisis.”

“Blow me,” she said. “So, what? What now? You want us to do our bloodhound routine, talk to the cops, what?”

“We have not involved the police. And I haven’t allowed anyone in the lab. The crime scene is exactly the way it was when the killer left.”

“Oh, gross,” she said, knowing where this was going.

“Why don’t you two go check it out? Then report back here.”

“We’ll check it out,” Dmitri said quietly, “but we won’t be reporting to you.”

“Fine, fine, have it your way. Oh, and, Caitlyn?”

“What?”

“Stacy says hi.”

Caitlyn blinked and stopped halfway to the door, so suddenly that Dmitri bumped into her, but she was so surprised by what the jerk had said, she barely felt the shock of his body against hers. She slowly turned, gently shoved Dmitri out of her sight line, and said, “What? What did you say?”

The jerk raised his pale eyebrows and feigned surprise at her surprise. “Stacy. Your best friend? Lovely girl, medium height, skin the color of cappuccino, limbs like silk? Is any of this ringing a bell, dear?”

“What?”

“When I left her last night—this morning, actually, after security called—she asked me to say hello when I saw you. Also, ‘Tell that girl she’s almost out of margarita mix.’”

Caitlyn digested this for a moment, then said, almost pleaded, “You’re not fucking my friend.”

“Actually, I really am. She—gak!” Caitlyn had crossed the room and was holding him off the floor, shaking him like a rag. “Let go! Stacy loves this suit!”

“Die,” she said through gritted teeth, tightening her grip. The pervert turned a dark shade of plum and gargled something she couldn’t understand. “Die! Right now.”

“Now, Caitlyn,” Dmitri said, the first time he’d said anything directly to her besides “Buckle your seat belt” when they were about to land. “I agree, if anyone deserves death by strangulation, it’s him. In fact, under most circumstances, I would gladly lend you a hand. Two, if you needed them. But do you think it’s wise? At this particular moment in time? There will be plenty of opportunities to take care of this. Later.”

The swine gargled something in agreement.

“Won’t take a minute,” she snarled. “Then we can go check out the lab. Then I can puke. Then I can cry myself to sleep again. Then I can tell Stacy it’s time to find a new fuck buddy.”

Dmitri shrugged. “Oh, have it your way.” He smiled at the Boss. “Sorry.”

“Girlfriend, you put him down right now.”

They both turned. Stacy was standing in the doorway, bizarrely arrayed in a typical outfit: forest green leggings, a sky blue T-shirt, a black leather jacket that was two sizes too big for her, red tennis shoes. Her hair was pulled back so far, her black eyebrows looked like they were arched in surprise, and she was holding a Brueger’s Bagels bag.

Caitlyn put him down. Sort of.

“That must have been six feet,” Dmitri said, watching the creep soar through the air and crash against the far wall. “Oh, well done.”

“I came to bring you some breakfast, seemed like you’d be having a long day,” Stacy explained, staring at the crumpled lump. “Good thing I stopped by. And it was super sweet of you to tell your secretary to let me in whenever I came to visit, BTW.”

“Anytime, my darling,” the Boss groaned from the floor.

Caitlyn shuddered. “Stacy, say it ain’t so! He was just torturing me for fun, right? It’s not true, right? Right? Right?”

“Jimmy, I love you, but if you ever do that again, I’ll snatch you bald-headed.”

Caitlyn clutched a hank of her hair protectively. “You wouldn’t!”

“Oh yes I would.” Giving her a good glare, Stacy pushed past them and bent over the lump on the floor that was the Boss. “Greg, you okay?”

“I am now…darling.”

Caitlyn snarled and took a step forward, but Dmitri’s hand closed over her arm and he pulled her back. “Death is too good for you! I’ll pull your skin off in strips! I’ll tie you to the back bumper of my car and drag you down Lake Street. I’ll—”

“Jimmy, enough.” Stacy helped the cretin to his feet and shook her head. “Cripes. I knew you wouldn’t exactly be thrilled by the news, but I didn’t think it’d be this bad.”

“Thrilled? Thrilled? Have you lost your fucking mind? This guy…this guy! You know what he’s like. I told you all the things—”

“He saved you,” she said quietly. “I’d have liked him for that, if for no other reason, you know?”

“Yeah, saved me for what?” Caitlyn asked bitterly.

“And we’re not doing it just for fun, though it started out that way. I really like him. He’s—he’s not like anybody in the world.”

“Thank you, darling.”

“You shut up. Started out that way? How long has this been going on? Cripes, how long was I in Europe?” Caitlyn looked around wildly for a clock. “What year is it?”

“It’s been a whirlwind courtship,” the Boss croaked modestly, rubbing his throat, where an interesting bruise was already forming.

“Stop talking. Stacy, wh-why him? Of all the guys in the world, why that guy?”

“I don’t know, Jimmy. I really don’t. And if you ever told me I’d—there’s just something about him. I can’t explain it, and now’s not the time even if I could,” Stacy said, glancing over at Dmitri.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” he said, struggling against laughter.

Stacy looked back at Caitlyn. “And I don’t know where this is going or even if it will last, but I do know this: you try to hurt him again and I’ll make you sorry. I don’t care if you can lift a Porsche over your head. I’ll figure out a way to make you sorry.”

Caitlyn clutched her head. “This can’t be happening. It’s all some totally fucked-up dream.”

“At the very least,” Dmitri commented, “it’s been worth the trip.”

“Uck. Let’s go. I’ll talk to you later,” she said to Stacy, who, to her credit, shrugged and didn’t look remotely alarmed. “You I’m never, ever speaking to again,” she told the Boss.

“Don’t tease, dear,” he said as she stomped out the door.