Luckily, George laughed at her crazy friend. “Kristy, it’s very nice to meet you. I was lucky enough to have Natalie spill a drink on me earlier.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” She Chininformstroked George’s arm, mouthing “wow!” behind his back when he turned to grab his vodka tonic with the magic ice. “Do you want to join us? We’re going to a movie, and not even a chick flick.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t tonight. Maybe another time, though.” George grinned at Natalie while he reached for a napkin, then the pen in the inside pocket of his shirt. “No chick flicks, huh?”

Kristy said, “Natalie prefers things bloody.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

“It’s true.” It was also true that her friend was still stroking George’s arm.

The poor man didn’t even seem to object, he just handed Natalie the napkin. “I prefer things bloody, too. My number. There is an answering service if I’m not there.” Then he pointed the pen in her direction and handed her a napkin. “Yours? Before you escape to your bloody amusement.”

“Haha.” She took it and quickly scribbled her name and number on the napkin. “I feel so twentieth century, exchanging paper.”

“I’m old-fashioned like that.”

“Should I burn this?” She handed him the napkin and got up from the bar. He stood as well. Kristy, luckily, had backed away, but was blatantly staring. “After I memorize the number? Just to be secure, Mr. Paranoia?”

“Just keep it safe.” He ducked down and for a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her.

Her breath caught, but he only murmured in her ear. She could feel his cool breath on her neck when he said, “I’d really hate for you to forget me.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

“You never meet men like that!” Kristy was practically jumping as they walked toward the theater.

“I do… Okay, I don’t.” She laughed and thought of the phone number tucked carefully into her wallet. “He was really great.”

“Was he smart?”

“I didn’t get the professor vibe off him, but definite street smarts.” Which she preferred, being the daughter of Detective Mark Ellis.

Kristy continued, “Funny?”

“Dry sense of humor, but definitely funny.”

“That’s your favorite kind!”

“I know. Can you stop bouncing?” She was starting to feel like they were attracting attention. She got the crawly feeling that someone was watching. Luckily, she was fairly sure it was just directed at her friend’s antics.

“Oh, and hot. So freaking hot.”

“I was kinda getting the impression that you thought so, considering you wouldn’t let go of his arm.”

“Did you feel it? It’s a really nice arm.” Kristy sighed. “My trainer has arms like that.”

“You still holding that crush? Dan has nice arms. You need to go out with Dan.”

“I can’t.” She pouted. “We work together.”

“He’s nuts about you and has been for years. And you love the geeky kind.”

“Can we talk about you and George-who-should-not-be-named-George some more?”

“Why shouldn’t he be named George?”

“He doesn’t look like a George.” Kristy finally stopped bouncing. “No offense to the Georges of the world, but he just doesn’t look like one. I don’t know, there was something…”

CDespite her bubbly appearance, Kristy had a very keen eye for detail. Natalie’s instincts tripped again. “What?” Kristy said, “That’s not his name.” Which was the same thing she’d thought before she’d been distracted by Mr. Attractive Suit and Witty Banter. She’d caught the hesitation before he introduced himself. Was he telling the truth about having an unusual name? Or covering something else? “You know, there was something—” “Ugh!” Kristy cut her off. “We’re reading too much into this. What possible reason would he have to lie about his name? We need to stop being so suspicious about everything, Nat. We’re both starting to get paranoid. It’s this business, I tell you. And this case.” “It’s not paranoia if they’re actually after you,” she muttered. “What?” “Nothing. Let’s go watch things explode.” She was up until three that morning again. Natalie knew it wasn’t healthy, but she had spent the entire movie distracted by her week. The weird trip to Boca, the memory loss, the case… This case. It was eating at her. She stared at the list of names again. Consuela Castillo Alma Florez Ana Romero Reina Ortiz Maria Covarubias And those were only the ones who had identities. Most of the bodies dumped out in the desert they were still trying to identify. The ones with ID on them were from the odd cache of nine bodies that had been found north of Brawley. She glanced through the notes she’d taken about the five girls. Born in Guadalajara. No criminal record. Born in Guanajuato. No criminal record. Born in Monterrey. No criminal record. “Reina did, though,” Natalie whispered as she paged through her notes. Reina Ortiz had been arrested for public disruption outside a club in Ensenada last summer. The club was named Bar El Ruso, a nightspot she’d never heard of before, but then, she had friends who were far more familiar with Ensenada than she was. She fired off a quick e-mail to her friend Manuel, hoping he’d get back to her in the morning. “El Ruso, El Ruso…” Why did it sound familiar? She shuffled through the stack of papers, chasing a memory. “Got it, got it, got it! Sticky note. Where’s the sticky note?” She could see it in her mind. It had been on a bright green sticky note. The name. She knew she’d heard that name before. “Ah ha!” Natalie pulled out the paper. It was just peeking out of the edge of one pile, attached to another file from a girl who’d been found near Imperial, one of the few the Border Patrol had been able to identify. She was twenty-two, another Tijuana native who had found her way to Ensenada. Lourdes Miranda had been on the outs with her family, but her younger brother did tell the police she had been working at a bar in Ensenada and sending money to her parents to help pay the bills. “Bar El Ruso,” she said, skimming over the file.  Tacked onto the first sticky note was another one in yellow. A name she’d jotted down, but Natalie didn’t remember why. She had to get more organized. Ivan Balankin. For some reason, simply reading the name to herself made her slightly ill. Ch=">Iv“Who are you, Ivan?” She hoped Manuel got back to her quickly. “And what do you have to do with Bar El Ruso and these girls’ deaths?”