To her surprise and amusement, Eli had begun to blush slightly. "Okay," he confessed, "those are an awful lot of coincidences."

"Booyah!" She leapt to her feet. Kate had never had a dance solely reserved for gloating, but she invented one now. She spent several minutes dancing, hooting, and contorting about the small room. When she sat, she was winded from the effort. "Please don't ever tell anyone about that," she asked.

"Our little secret," he said. "But ... let's just assume these events aren't coincidences. Why would I be behind all that?"

"Seriously? That's a little tougher. First, the only other likely candidate is me, and I know I didn't do it. Second, you are awfully protective."

"But it would require I have some eldritch power that I ain't got ... otherwise I wouldn't be living out of a truck."

"That's true," she muttered before continuing with an accusatory leer. "You could have hired someone."

"I didn't even know who that Harry guy was."

"You had background investigations run on Otto's kids. You could've hired someone to track .... Okay, maybe that's farfetched."

"Yes," he said barely hiding a laugh, "especially since I didn't hire someone to track down a total stranger whose name I didn't know and about whom I knew nothing. Sherlock Holmes couldn't have found that guy."

"But you did know Clancy Cyril ... or at least who he was."

"I did, but I had background checks run on all the Cyril kids, two of whom you said were even more noxious than Clancy. If I'd used my awesome demon magic to punish anyone named Cyril, why him? And ... why would I possibly want to hurt your co-star? You are spot on, Kate. I am more than a little protective of you, but I'm not the jealous type. Why would I possibly want to hurt that kid? You seem to like him."

"Okay, you win on that last one," she again grumbled. "But maybe you read my mind and found out Harry's name. And you did say demons can control animals, and that was how Ted Phelps got offed."

Kate's friend had been laughing quietly throughout the exchange, and it took a few moments for him to compose himself. "Um ...," he began, "I've never read anywhere that demons can read minds, at least the minds of anyone they're not possessing. But you're right on Ted. I did put the hit out on him."

Eli pulled the top piece of paper from the sketchbook on which he'd been doodling and handed it to her. She nearly screamed. On the paper was a hauntingly lifelike and accurate sketch of a man, obviously Ted Phelps, a comical and shocked look on his face, being kicked to the side of the head by the back hoof of a large horse. The horse was anatomically perfect in its depth, texture, and proportions, save with a malevolent and somewhat silly expression on its face. The sketch was remarkable in both its finally penciled accuracy and its absolute hilarity.

"Here's how it happened," Eli confessed. "I left a sketch much like that one outside in an envelope. The Chupacabra came by that very night, checked the picture for accuracy, and then took it to Ted's stable, where he showed it to the equine assassin. The horse inspected the picture, nodded his grim assent, and then went about his murderous deed. I freely admit to all of it and throw myself on the mercy of the court."

It dawned on Kate as she bent over with one knee on the floor, laughing so hard that she began to cough uncontrollably, that she'd never laughed like that around Otto. Certainly, they'd had their good times, but they were the kind of good times at which she would giggle or, at the very most, chortle graciously. Everything was so damn perfect and elegant. She often laughed with Eli as she did now, in life-threatening guffaws.

"We're going to Hell for that, you know," she was finally able to rasp. "Laughing at that poor man's death."

"He wasn't that poor." Eli had recovered first and reached down to help her into a seat beside him on the couch. "He owned a fairly substantial portion of the Santa Ynez Valley according to Daisy."

"You know what I mean." She realized that snot was coming out of her nose and, finding nothing immediately handy with which to wipe it away, went to the kitchen. Using Eli's tee shirt as a handkerchief had crossed her mind. That's how far you've fallen, said that little voice.

When she came back, she picked up the sketch and admired it. Eli truly was gifted, and she didn't care if his was a demon gift or not.

"I'm hanging this up," she announced.

"Not if you're going to have guests over," Eli cautioned.

"Oh, right ... Ted is sort of unmistakable." She went and put it among some papers of hers. "I'll figure out someplace discreet." She resumed her seat next to him.

"Are you still hung up on me being a demon?"

"No, I never was ... you know that. I just get these flashes. And it doesn't help that you joke about it so much."

"Point taken on the joking," he whispered as he pulled her close. "But seriously, on everything else ... don't be afraid of those thoughts. And don't be ashamed of them either. I know you feel different, but I think it's just your mind trying to sort things out. A lot of guys I know coming back from combat deployments have similar experiences. Time usually is the best medicine. You may never get to the bottom of who the Flying Guy is, but even if you don't, things will sort their way out eventually."

"They already have, professionally," she said. "I hope the role in Julien's new film works out."

"I'm sure you'll make it happen and take the world by storm."

"God, I like you. And I've never known anyone I've had so much fun with. But I can't believe you dragged the Chupacabra into your scheme."

"He ain't so innocent," her friend protested.

Their playing and laughing continued well into the evening, but after two hard days of building fences, they retired early, only to continue the comedy in the darkness above the sheets. Kate had made all manner of promises to herself about her behavior, but it didn't stop her from pulling her companion close and wrapping herself around him. It was yet another wonderful end to yet another wonderful day.