Thirty minutes later, Kate was returning from the restroom of the little diner they'd decided on, and Eli was getting off the phone.

"Who was that?" They'd reached the point in their friendship where she didn't consider such questions prying.

"My lawyer."

"Why a lawyer?"

"I'm suing the shit out of your former stepson."

"Oh ... damn. I guess he did sort of hit you."

"Kate, he didn't 'sort of' do anything." He winked at her. "But I do have to go by and see a doctor today ... I'm feeling a little light-headed."

"Oh, fucker, he didn't hurt you." She took a sip of soda, smiling all the while.

"That's for a jury to decide."

"Do you think they're going to let him out of jail today?"

"I don't think so. Your boy Clancy has been very bad a few times in the past. A few drug beefs, some property crimes, and he's already got one misdemeanor battery. I don't think this will go well ... especially without daddy to bail him out."

It was true. Otto was a softy for bailing the "boys" out of trouble, even after they were no longer boys. It was something with which Kate had never concerned herself, but also something of which secretly she'd never approved.

"Hold on ... how did you know all that? Your lawyer couldn't have looked that up while I was gone."

"I had a service I use run a background investigation on all the butt-fuckers after we went to the beach house that first time." He caught her sudden look of surprise. "What? ... I have those run on all my potential clients. It's just due diligence. And ...," he added more quietly, "I wanted to know you weren't in any danger. And, no, I didn't have them run a background on you."

"Because you don't want to appear creepy?" She laughed but was having a tough time hiding how moved she was by the gesture.

"No, I prefer stalking you personally."

"There are some things you just can't pay someone else to do for you," she agreed. "Now cough it up. How did you make Clancy take a shot at you like that?"

He moved a little closer, and when he spoke again, it was in a hushed voice.

"I learned it from a guy in the CIA, in Pakistan, back in ... 2004? No, 2005 ...."

He spent the next twenty minutes explaining, in some detail, how he'd been assigned briefly as a military liaison to a secret surveillance center near Peshawar, Pakistan. The duty was light but extremely boring, so he'd passed his time by conversing with an elderly field operative who was one of only seven companions he'd had on the station. The man previously had received extensive training in a variety of sensitive skills derived from quasi-legal psychological research the agency had conducted in the 1950s. The old agent had shared some of it with Eli, including lessons on how to influence the actions of others through the careful use of psychological cues and verbal prompts.

After Eli finished his tale, the two sat for a few moments in silence.

"I'm going to call bullshit on all of that," she said finally. It had been a good story, and Eli had told it deadpan, without the slightest inkling of deception. But ....

"First," she went on, "you don't believe in ... what was it you called it? ... neuro-linguistic programming." She looked up and saw he'd finally cracked a smile. "And I know that, because you've mentioned that before and said it was ninety-nine percent garbage. Second, dumbass, you've already given me the history of your life. You were in South America during the time in question. Third, you've told me a dozen times you would never, ever, ever ... ever share classified information with me, which, if that story were true, you would have just given me scads of."

"Ouch," he said. "I didn't think you'd pick up on that last bit."

"So, how did you get Clancy to take a punch at you?"

"Did I really tell you about neuro-linguistic programming?" His face still wore its infuriating grin, but he had stopped laughing. "I really made that too easy for you."

"Yes ... now answer the question."

"Okay," he sighed ponderously. "It's my demon power."

"More bullshit." She wanted to laugh but kicked him under the table instead.

"It's true," he insisted. "We demons can influence the minds of humans to do what we want."

"Yeah, I know." She did her best scowl. "I read your thesis. And you said demons can only control people they aren't possessing with great effort ... and over time."

"Maybe I'm just an especially powerful demon?" he said with a sideways grin.

"You're testing me, buddy."

"Okay ... I'm not sure why. I gave him a dirty look as I walked up, but who the hell knows. The background I ran on him said he had a hot temper."

He suddenly got serious, and when he did, he again leaned closer and looked her in the eye.

"Kate, I often rub people the wrong way. And sometimes that works to my advantage. It's always been like that." He took her hand and continued with even greater sincerity. "You know, we've been spending a lot of time together that last two months. Be honest, in all that time, haven't you wanted to punch me in the face ... at least once?"

"Does right now count?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Alright ... maybe three or four times."

"Then that's my case," he said serenely. "And don't knock it. Battery is only a misdemeanor, but with his record, poor Clancy is looking at jail this time."

"I wouldn't mind that," she said, finally allowing herself to crack a smile. "I hate feeling petty, but that guy has been such a ...."

"Butt-fucker?"

She nodded.

"What would you rather have," he asked, "this douchebag in jail or some of your stuff back?"

"I'd rather have both ... but I suppose I want my stuff back. Why?"

"His lawyer will approach mine. They'll try to work out something over the civil suit and the criminal charges. I don't care what happens to this guy, but that gives us some leverage."

"Us?"

"Like I said, I don't care too much what happens, and we are sort of in this together. I'll let you know what my lawyer says."

"Thanks for coming, today."

"Kate, you can call me any time. How's everything going, otherwise? Still looking forward to your first week at your new home?"

"A lot. I can't wait to get shed of this place. Even a few months ago that would have been unthinkable, but, yes, I am looking forward to getting out of LA." She remembered something. "Oh, I got an offer on the house in the Hills."

"Serious one?"

"Pretty serious. It's a bit below what I was hoping for. But it's a cash offer, which means a quick closing. The realtor thinks I'll get more if I wait four or five months, but that's four or five months of mortgage payments, insurance premiums, and property tax. That adds up to a lot. If this couple can come up on their price even a little and close within the month, I think I have a buyer."

"That's very good news. Still think you're going to miss the place."

"The house?" She thought just a moment. "Yes ... but not as much as I would have. I'm hoping the beach house will find a buyer soon, too. It's in prime shape, in a popular location. God ... it will be so nice to be out from under all this."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"I am not going to burden you anymore. And don't say it's what friends are for. This has been me leaning on you for two months."

"Well, let's eat," he said with slight shrug. "I have to go see a doctor."

Kate picked up her phone and began scrolling.

"You want my doctor's number? She might be able to fit you in."

"Nah, that's fine. I've been spending a lot of time at clinic down in Torrance, hand-holding a sick friend. I'm sure one of the docs there will give me a once over."

"Well, I hope your friend gets better." She looked down at her menu. "I'm having the chicken."