She wandered like a ghost, passing through the bodies of people who browsed or bought, who sat or stood. She saw familiar faces, the faces of strangers, heard the voices, smelled the scents.

Attractive and intriguing sidelines were set up here and there. Yes, yes, those were the note cards shed decided to carry. And the bookmarks, the bookends. Wasnt that the perfect reading chair? Roomy, broken in, welcoming.

It was very clever to use the kitchen as the hub of the three enterprises, with books, candles, lotions, and art all together to illustrate how nicely each complemented the others.

It was her vision, she realized. Everything she was hoping for. “Youll enjoy it, of course, but it wont be enough.”

She turned. He was there. It didnt surprise her in the least to see Kane standing beside her as people moved around them, through them.

Who were the ghosts? she wondered distantly.

He was dark and handsome, almost romantically so. The black hair framed a strong and compelling face. His eyes smiled into hers, but even now she could see something frightening lurking behind them.

“Why wont it be enough?”

“What will you do at the end of the day? Sit alone with only your books for company? Alone when everyone else gathers with their families? Will any of them give you a single thought after they walk out the door?”

“I have friends. I have family.”

“Your brother has a woman, and the woman has him. Youre not part of that, are you? The other has a son, and youll never be inside what they have. Theyll leave you, as everyone else has done.”

His words were like darts in the heart, and as she bled from them she saw him smile again. Almost kindly.

“I can make him stay.” He spoke gently now, as one did to the wounded. “I can make him pay for what he did to you, for his carelessness, for his refusal to know what you needed from him. Wouldnt you like him to love you as he has loved no other? Then, at your whim, you can keep him or discard him?”

She was in a room she didnt recognize, yet somehow knew . A large bedroom, saturated with color. Deep blue walls, an enormous bed covered in a ruby comforter, mounded with jewel-toned pillows. There was a generous sitting area, with two wing chairs facing a snapping fire. It was here that she sat, with Jordan kneeling at her feet. Her hands were clutched in his.

And his trembled.

“I love you, Dana. I never knew I could feel like this, as if theres no point in taking the next breath unless youre with me.”

It was wrong. Wrong. His face never looked weak and pleading. “Stop it.”

“You have to listen.” His voice urgent, he buried his head in her lap. “You have to give me a chance to show you, to prove to you how much I love you. The biggest mistake of my life was leaving you. Nothing Ive done, nothing Ive touched since has meant anything. Ill do anything you want.” He lifted his head and with some horror, she caught the gleam of tears in his eyes. “Be anything you want. If youll only forgive me, let me spend every minute of every day for the rest of my life worshiping you.”

“Get the hell away from me!” Shocked, panicked, she shoved at Jordan, knocking him back as she scrambled to her feet.

“Kick me. Beat me. I deserve it. Just let me stay with you.”

“Do you think this is what I want?” She shouted it as she spun in a circle. “Do you think you can control me by making pictures out of my thoughts? You dont understand what I want, and thats why Ill beat you. No deal, asshole. And this is not only a lie, its pathetic.”

The fury in her voice echoed even when she found herself standing in the empty room with the paint roller on the floor at her feet.

Scrawled on the white wall in oily black was the message:

Drown thyself!

“Fat chance, you bastard.” Though her hands shook, she picked up the roller and covered the black with fresh white primer.

Then they steadied, and her fingers dug in on the handle of the roller. “Wait a minute, wait a minute!”

Her mind whirling, she dropped the roller with a splatter of paint, grabbed her bag and ran as though the gods were chasing her.

Minutes later, she charged into her apartment. She tossed her purse aside and grabbed the library copy of Othello .

“ „Drown thyself, drown thyself. Its in here.” She flipped pages, frantically pulling the scene and context into her mind as she searched for the quote.

It was one ofIagos lines, when he was doing one of his numbers onRoderigo . She knew that line.

When she found it, she sat down on the floor.“ „It is a lust of the blood and a permission of the will,” she read aloud. “„Come, be a man. Drown thyself! drown cats and blind puppies.”

She fought for calm.

A lust of the blood and a permission of the will. Yes, that described Kanes vicious acts. Jealousy, guile, betrayal, and ambition. WhatIago knew, what Othello was ignorant of. Kane asIago ? The god-king as Othello. The king hadnt killed, but still the daughters—those he loved—were lost to him through lies and ambition.

And the play—surely this play had beauty, truth, courage. Was it the key?

Ordering herself to be methodical, she paged through the book, searched its binding. Setting it aside, she found her own copy and did the same. She forced herself to sit again, to read through the entire scene.

There were other copies of the play. She would go to the mall bookstore, search through those. She could hit the library again on Monday. Rising, she began to pace.

There were probably dozens of copies of Othello in various forms around the Valley. She would go to the schools, the college. Shed knock on damn doors if she had to.

“„Drown thyself, my ass,” she repeated and scooped up her purse. She would drive to the mall right now.

Shed already wrenched open the door when it struck her. Her own fury knocked her two steps back before she slammed the door shut again.

She was being a fool, a mark. An idiot. Who had written the words on the wall? Kane. A liar quoting a liar. It wasnt a clue. It was misdirection. Something to have her running off on a tangent. Exactly as she had done.

“Goddamn it!” She flung her purse across the room. “Outright lies or twisted truth? Which is it?”

Resigned, she marched across the room to retrieve her purse. She had to find out, so it looked like she was taking that trip to the mall after all.

* * *

SHE was, Dana thought when she arrived home, probably as calm as she was going to get after spending the morning on what she was certain was a wild-goose chase. Still, shed be happier when Malory andZoe arrived. If nothing else, a girlfriend afternoon would cheer her up.

Theyd have some food, theyd talk. And when Dana had called and said she needed them to come,Zoe had promised pedicures.

Not a bad deal.

She carried the Chinese food shed picked up into the kitchen, set it on the counter. Then just stood there for a moment.

All right, she admitted, maybe she wasnt calm, maybe she wasnt steady. Not quite yet. And her head was screaming from the echoes of the morning fear, the frustration that had followed.

She walked to the bathroom, took a bottle of Extra-Strength Tylenol out of the medicine cabinet, and washed two down with tap water.

Maybe she should have opted for a nap instead of company. But despite the headache, the vague nausea, this was one time she didnt want to be alone.

She nearly flew to the door at the knock.

“Are you all right?”Zoe stepped in, dropped the bags she carried on the floor, then gathered Dana in her arms. “Im sorry it took me so long to get here.”

“Its okay. Im all right.” No, Dana realized, this was much better than a nap. “Im just really glad youre here. What about Simon?”

“Flynn took him. It was really nice. He and Jordan are taking Simon over to Bradleys. He can run around with Moe, play with guys, eat junk food, watch football. Simons thrilled. Isnt Mal here yet? She left before I did.”

“Right behind you.” Malory came hurrying down the hall, then held up a bakery box before she stepped inside the apartment. “I made a stop. Brownies—double fudge.”

“I love you guys.” Danas voice broke as she said it and, appalled, she pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Oh, Jesus, Im in worse shape than I thought. Its been a very crappy day so far.”

“Sweetie, you come sit down.” Taking charge,Zoe drew her across the room to the sofa. “You just relax for a minute. Im going to fix you something to eat.”

“I got Chinese. In the kitchen.”

“Thats fine. You just take it easy, and Malory and I will take care of everything.”

They fixed plates, brewed tea, tucked a throw over her legs, and generally did all the things women instinctively know how to do to offer comfort.

“Thanks. I mean it. I didnt realize I was that close to cracking. Bastard really got to me.”

“Tell us what happened.“ Malory stroked Danas hair.

“I went over to our place, to paint. I woke up cranky and needed something to do.” She slid a glance at Malory. “Sorry aboutsiccing Moe on you so early.”

“Not a problem.”

“So.” She soothed her throat with tea. “I started painting. It felt good, and I was thinking about how everything was going to look. Then he was there.”

She started to tell them, as coherently as she could, andZoe interrupted with an indignant oath.

“Thats just bullshit! Thats just a lie. Of course you matter. He doesnt know a damn thing about it.”

“Hes just playing on my weaknesses. I know it. Leaving the library bothered me, more than Ive been willing to admit. I guess Ive been feeling like what I did there didnt really matter to anyone but me. He uses things like that, then makes them bigger, more hurtful.”