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in. Bianca, in a hooded green tracksuit, and Keisha, in a brown headwrap and bulky Christmas sweater, sat in cushioned armchairs near the decorative electric fireplace. Their coats held the remaining two armchairs for us. Bianca paid no attention to Jen, who seemed to be watching a soundless but captioned MSNBC program on the TV above the fireplace.

I counted six other customers seated with coffee cups and donuts or breakfast meals: three young women at the table farthest from the door, a man of grad student age typing on a laptop, a thirtysomething man in dark work clothes, and an elderly woman two tables away from Jen. A young couple stood at the counter, looking up at the lighted menu and discussing what they should order. Behind the counter were five employees—three filling orders, one working the cash register, and the last at the drive-thru window. If we kept our voices low, we could have a private conversation.

We sat. I introduced Phoenix to Keisha and Bianca. They already had coffee, as did Jen, so Bianca got in line to get a medium for each of us.

It was hard to reconcile the Keisha who sat across from me with the pretty, cheerful-looking woman I had seen in photos on her parents’ mantel. The night her clumsy disguise to get into the ICU failed, her face had become a mask of terror. Now, with no make-up and her body in a hideous sweater too large to be hers, this Keisha looked more tired than afraid, more resigned than hopeful. But when our gazes met, I remembered Glendora Chancellor-Pratt’s theory that the eyes were a window to the intellect. However tired the skin around them made her seem, the eyes behind Keisha’s glasses were sharp and calculating.

“Being on the run is hell,” I said softly, trying to set the right speaking level for all of us. “Even when you have good friends to help.”

“Worse when you put your loved ones in danger.” Keisha matched my volume. Good.

“But they’re safe right now, so you can think past worrying about them to ending the threat to all of you.” I leaned toward her. “I want to hear what happened, but how you share that is up to you. I can ask questions, you can tell your story without interruption, or we can make it a conversation. Your choice. Phoenix will clarify any legal questions. When we’re done, I’ll call a friend in homicide. He’ll advise us what to do next. Officially.”

“What about unofficially? Jen says I don’t have much evidence.”

Unofficially, she had a fan who would solve her problem happily if she identified the people after her. But the price of getting into bed with Spider Tolliver—and, by extension, Lorenzo Quick—was likely too high.

“We’ll worry about all that later,” I said. “How would you like to start?”

“I’ve smoked weed three times,” she said. Her voice was steady and her eyes drilled into me. “I can tell you the month and year but not the day, except for that Christmas Eve party sophomore year of college. Apart from that, I’ve never used illegal drugs in my life.”

So, it was going to be a conversation, which was fine with me.

“I believe you. Everything I know about you says I should. What about Odell?”

Keisha bit her lip and looked off for a moment. “Odell was a good man. Smart, kind, playful but gentle. His parents and friends and students all loved him. I loved him too.” Her eyes moistened. She took off her glasses and wiped her eyes. “Odell didn’t use drugs either, not even weed. That stuff in the paper about him being a dealer was one hundred percent Grade A Angus bullshit. He was so high on life he said he might try weed if he came down. But he never came down. Even if he did use, he didn’t deserve to die like that.”

Phoenix leaned forward and took Keisha’s hand. “Nobody deserves to die like that.”

“Tell me about that night,” I said.

Bianca returned just then and set our coffees on the low table around which the chairs had been arranged. Seeing the tears, she sat and took hold of the hand Phoenix had released.

“Odell proposed at dinner that night.” Smiling faintly, Keisha didn’t even try to wipe her eyes. “I’d been suspecting it was coming soon. We had been talking about maybe moving in together, getting a house near apartments where our parents could live.” She sniffled, and Bianca handed her a napkin. “He took me to Panorama on Seven at the Marriott downtown,” she said after wiping her nose. “We sat at a table by one of those giant windows overlooking the harbor. No clouds, the lights and moon reflecting on the water—it was beautiful!”

I heard Phoenix swallow beside me as if clearing her throat. I made no move to take her hand, for fear the gesture would distract Keisha. Neither one of us had sipped coffee yet.

“He was nervous as all get-out,” Keisha said. “He was so cute like that I just wanted to pinch his cheeks. He couldn’t wait for the meal. He took out the box right after we ordered the wine and opened it. The ring inside was wrapped in paper, which confused me at first. He gave it to me. When I unwrapped it, I saw it wasn’t a diamond ring at all. The stone was red, and the paper had been cut out of a Bible, part of a page from Proverbs.”

“A price above rubies,” I said. “That’s what you were to him.”

Blinking as more tears came, she nodded. It was apparent she needed a moment. Bianca put a hand on her shoulder and leaned as close to her as she could.

In the silence that followed, Phoenix and I both reached for our coffees and drank a little. I gave her hand a quick squeeze.

“What happened to the ring?” I asked when Keisha seemed ready to go on. I feared I already knew the answer.

“I guess they took

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