Weiss had traced the phone call to a pay booth here in Paradise. That's how he knew where to start looking.

Weiss sipped his scotch. He studied the picture. She was one goddamned beautiful whore. He wondered if maybe that's why he was here. Maybe it wasn't because of the killer but just because she had an angel's face and it reminded him of the girls he'd made up in his mind when he was younger. Or maybe it was the fact that his business-his private detective agency back in San Francisco-was failing and he needed to get away. Whatever the reason, he had left the business behind-he had left everything behind-and come here to find her.

And the killer was following him. Watching him. Listening to him. Dogging his every step, just as Julie had said he would. Weiss was pretty sure there were tracking devices in his car, maybe even in his clothes. He didn't bother looking for them. If he took them out, the killer would just put them back again. The killer was following him, that's all there was to it. When Weiss found Julie, the killer would find her too, just as she had said.

And then they would settle it. Weiss and the Shadow-man. They would settle it between them.

Weiss sipped his scotch. He studied the picture, looked into those dreamy, faraway eyes. He remembered how she had begged him-begged him in her warm voice to stay away. He had tried to do what she wanted. He really had tried.

But in the end, he couldn't help himself.

2.