Stowing her Hardballer under her jacket and her Detective Special on her ankle, Diana left her apartment and biked over to the Dreaming Nook. Nodding a hello to BB and taking a seat across the table from Alexander, she pulled the curtain shut on the booth.

     “What have you got?”

     “Plenty enough to cast doubt on Mr. Miller’s guilt.” Diana slid a copy of her evidence across the table, “Footprints found near the scene suggest someone bigger than Miller left the scene, depth of the prints suggests someone heavier too, not to mention he left his studio at eight-thirty and the murder was committed at nine, he would have needed to run red-lights if he wanted to get there in time.”

     “But it is possible he could have reached the scene?”

     “Theoretically possible, but it’s a stretch to say he wouldn’t have needed to run a red-light or two, in which case we’d have a photo from a red-light camera.”

     “It’s shaky, but it could get Miller off, or at least give the investigation more time.” Alexander scratched his chin, flipping through the evidence, “Especially considering your attempted murder, it seems like someone thinks you’re on the right track. Do you plan to keep on the case?”

     “Until the very end.”

     “I think you’ll agree it’s correct to pay you for this information. If only to assure you can keep on the trail.” Alexander retrieved two hundred dollars from his briefcase, “This should be sufficient, I hope, taken out of the five hundred owed to you after the case.”

     Diana leaned over to take the cash, but as she did so a silenced shot rang out and a bullet tore through the curtain, whizzing by Diana’s head and hitting the wall.

     “Get down!” Diana pulled out her Hardballer and fired two shots back. A cry of pain told her one of them found her mark and she threw herself forward, pushing her attacker back against the bar with a blow to the side of his face.

     Swinging the curtain out of the way, she saw a man in a mouth mask and sunglasses picking himself up. He took aim, his pistol aimed directly at Diana’s chest, but BB smashed the butt of the Bone Collector into his head, knocking him out cold.

     “Diana, if you’re going to be bringing more of your friends around, I do hope you’ll warn me in the future.” BB remarked, passing Diana a zip-tie and dialing the police, “Do me a favor and tie the ruffian up?”

     “Same height and build as the one who got away.” Diana noted, “Same gun, too, if I’m not mistaken. Glock 19, common use.”

     Within ten minutes, the police were upon the scene and the man was in cuffs.

     “Well, let’s see who our man is, then.” Argil pulled off his mask and sunglasses to reveal a bruised, yet familiar, dark-skinned face, “Looks like the lab boys were right, Daniel Bartley. The other man who attacked you.”

     “And a security guard, evidently.” Diana recalled the limping security guard who had taken her bike the other day, “Under the employ of Blaine Albrecht, is that correct?”

     Daniel spit a bloody tooth at Diana, and she waved for the officers to take him away.

     “Well, I suppose I’ll have to return to the confectionary.” Diana sighed.

     “Not on your own, you ain’t.” Argil shook his head, “I’ll come too. We’ll take my car.”

     “Argil, I’m not gonna tell you again, I can handle myse-”

     “You’ve had two near misses in three days, I’m not lettin’ you anywhere without an escort. It’s either that or I detain you.”

     “Fine.” Diana sighed, stepping out of the bar, “Let’s get over to the confectionary and ask Mr. Albrecht if he tried to have me killed.”

     Argil’s car was a red sedan almost four times as old as Diana, but he assured her it was a reliable one. She stepped into the passenger side seat, and was greeted by the big, fuzzy muzzle of a Saint Bernard poking in from the back seats. Laughing, Diana scratched his chin.

     “Who’s this big fellow, then?”

     “Doesn’t have a name yet, my sister picked him up on impulse after hearing he was due to be put down, but her landlord won’t allow a dog this big.” Argil explained, starting the car, “I’ve been trying to find someone to take him in and… hey, maybe you co-”

     “Not happening, Argil. I don’t even know if my apartment allows dogs.”

     “Sure they do! The family two floors down has a bloodhound!”

     “Besides, I’ve already got Turtellini.”

     “Look, you work with risky business, having a guard dog might do some good with these attacks. Just consider it, you’ll have a lot of time to spend with the big guy today.”