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"I mean, besides tying you up," Decker said.

Lanie came out, still dripping. Already the purple ligature bars were fading.

"As long as he didn't hurt you."

"What for? He's long gone."

Lanie came out, still dripping. Already the purple ligature bars were fading.

"He's a legend," Lanie said. She started unbuttoning Decker's shirt. "One rumor is he's a mass murderer from Oregon. Another says he's ex-CIA, helped kill Trujillo. One story goes he's hiding from the Warren Commission."

"He's not much of a crooner," Lanie grumbled.

"Remember the last time?"

She reached over and took his hand. "Don't worry about your weird friend, he'll find his way back to Harney."

Not so long, Lanie thought, maybe fifteen minutes. "Mind if I take a shower?"

Decker said, "He forgot his plane ticket." Not to mention the insistent New Orleans bail bondsman; the airline disturbance was a federal rap.

"What else did he mention?"

"What else did he mention?"

"Yeah. 'Knights in White Satin.' "

Decker perked up. "So you know about Skink?"

"As long as he didn't hurt you."

"Yeah. 'Knights in White Satin.' "

"Ah." Moody Blues. The man was a child of the Sixties.

"As long as he didn't hurt you."

Not so long, Lanie thought, maybe fifteen minutes. "Mind if I take a shower?"

"Ah." Moody Blues. The man was a child of the Sixties.

"What else did he mention?"

"He didn't try to pork me, no," Lanie said, "and he didn't stick electrodes into my eyeballs, if that's what you mean. But he's still totally nuts."

Not so long, Lanie thought, maybe fifteen minutes. "Mind if I take a shower?"

Decker was past the point of being surprised. "A song," he repeated. "Skink was singing?"

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