It's been two weeks since I moved back in with Dominique. I work at The Red Line every night. It's easy and we've fallen into a routine.

I haven't heard from Dimitri.

As much as I liked staying with him, I just can't be around Stephanie. I went through years of physical and verbal abuse with Braxton, and Stephanie...she's not good to be around. She triggered too many painful memories.

My phone rings, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Hello?"

"Kincaid?" Dimitri says. "Can you come to my office?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?" I grab my backpack and write a note for Dominique, who's still sleeping.

"Something just came up that concerns your case," he tells me.

"I'm on my way." I end the call and walk to a bus stop.

It's fall. The leaves have turned different colors and the temperature is cool. I smile. Fall's my favorite season.

The bus comes and I get on. I'm taking the elevator to Dimitri's office fifteen minutes later. I walk into his office.

"Hey," I say. I drop my bag and sit down. "What's up?"

"The Medical Examiner's report just came in," Dimitri says. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to be honest, Kincaid, it's not looking great."

He shoves a file at me. "What do you mean by that?" I ask.

"There's nothing that specifically shows that you're linked to his death," Dimitri tells me. "But the way he was killed isn't going to sit well with the jury."

I look at the file.

BRAXTON THORNE:

AGE: 33

HEIGHT: 5'-8"

WEIGHT: 160

TYPE OF DEATH: HOMICIDE
CAUSE OF DEATH: SEVERED CAROTID ARTERY.

NOTES: VICTIM SHOWS EVIDENCE OF TORTURE. STAB WOUNDS TO THE ABDOMEN, CHEST AND GENITAL REGION. SIGNS OF ANAL TRAUMA, MOST LIKELY THE HANDLE OF A BROOM. LIGATURE MARKS ON HANDS INDICATE THAT VICTIM WAS TIED UP.

THE STOMACH WAS MOSTLY EMPTY. VICTIM WAS HELD THREE DAYS PREVIOUS TO DEATH. NO TRACES OF DRUGS OR ALCOHOL FOUND IN VICTIM'S SYSTEM.

NOTES ABOUT THE KILLER: STAB WOUNDS SHOW NO HESITATION MARKS. CUTS WERE CLEAN AND EFFICIENT, KITCHEN KNIFE WITH SERRATED BLADE WAS USED.

THE KILLER SHOWS SIGNS OF RAGE. THE STAB WOUNDS TO THE GENITAL REGION AND ANAL TRAUMA INDICATES THAT THE KILLER KNEW THE VICTIM.

THE ATTACK WAS PERSONAL.

I don't read the rest of the report. "Aren't brutal killings usually associated with men?" I ask Dimitri.

"For the most part," he says. "I honestly can't figure out how you ended up with this."

I shrug. "I guess we don't know a lot about each other."

"You're right," Dimitri says. "Let's go out for lunch."

"I don't know," I say. He stands up.

"What have you had to eat today?" he asks. I shrug.

"Coffee and a donut," I say. He frowns.

"It's one in the afternoon," Dimitri tells me. "Come on, Kincaid."

I sigh. "Okay." We walk to his car. "How's Stephanie?" I ask.

"Good. She's away on a business trip," he says as we get in. I frown.

"I thought she was a 'writer'." I put air quotes around writer and roll my eyes. Dimitri's lips twitch into a smile.

"Her family owns Chastain Publishing. They have something going on," he says.

"God damn it!" Braxton yelled. I was in his office.

"It's okay," I said.

"No it's fucking not, Adelaide," he yelled. "We just lost fucking Brandy Adams to Chastain." Chastain publishing was rival to Braxton's company, Rose & Bone Publishing.

"There's always more authors," I said. He slammed his hand on the table.

"I swear you're fucking retarded, Adelaide." He threw a book that missed my head by an inch. It slammed into the wall. I flinched and he smiled.

"You ever heard of it?" Dimitri asks. "Chastain Publishing?"

"Oh, yeah," I say.

"How's your hand?" he asks.

"It's better. Doesn't hurt anymore," I tell him. He smiles.

"There's still a dent in the wall," he says. "Why did you punch the wall?"

"If I punched Stephanie I would have gone to jail," I say.

"You and Stephanie don't get along well?" I think he's serious.

"Didn't she say something about me?" I ask.

"She says a lot of things but I ignore most of them." Dimitri looks at me. "What did she do to make you punch the wall?"

"Don't worry about it," I say. The car stops outside of a restaurant.

"There has to be a reason," he tells me as we walk inside.

"Maybe I'm just a felon."

"Damn it," he says. He stops walking. "Stop pushing me away."

"It's better this way," I tell him, looking over his shoulder. He steps closer and his hands brush my shoulder. My eyes jump to his.

"Stop saying things like that," Dimitri says, "You're too cynical of yourself."

"What do you want me to say?" I ask. "Do you want me to tell you all of the awful things Stephanie says? That's not who I am."

"All I'm asking is that you let me in," he says. "Is that really so hard, Kincaid?"

I sigh. "I don't trust easily."

We start walking and get seated at a table. Dimitri orders for both of us.

"Are you still working at the strip club?" Dimitri asks.

I shrug. "No one else is going to hire me."

"Just be careful. If the press were to find out...it just wouldn't be good," he tells me.

"I know. But I don't have any other option," I tell Dimitri. He takes a drink of his water.

"You remember Noah?" he asks.

"The kid with freckles?' I ask. Dimitri smiles.

"Yeah. He got promoted," Dimitri tells me. "That means his position is open."

I look at Dimitri. "You're offering me a job?"

"It pays well," Dimitri says. "There's health care benefits-"

"I can't," I say.

"Why?" Dimitri asks.

"You've already done so much for me...I can't let you do anymore," I tell him. Our food comes.

"I really do need the help," Dimitri says. "I've been through...six assistants in the past five months."

"Why?" I ask. He shrugs.

"I just didn't get along well with them," he tells me. "But for some reason, I get along with you."

"I don't want the money," I tell him. "I'll be your assistant for free. It's the least I can do considering everything you've done for me."

"Great," Dimitri says. He smiles. "You'll start on Wednesday."