The killer sat naked in front of the mirror and put in the cosmetic contact lenses to change his eyes from brown to blue. Nine months ago, he'd shaved his head, and since then used a razor each week to keep up his bald appearance. He now carefully attached a hairpiece to his scalp that made him look as if he had neatly trimmed sandy-brown hair. It was an expensive hairpiece, and the killer was pleased with the way it altered his appearance. After taking a moment to admire the hairpiece, he glued on a matching goatee. Earlier that morning he had shaved off his eyebrows, and he now glued on fake ones that were the same color as the hairpiece and goatee. He had other fake eyebrows that matched his natural hair color. Later when he removed his disguise, he would use those until his eyebrows grew back.

He put his face through a series of exaggerated contortions. According to his reflection, his fake hair held in place and looked natural. His entire adult life the killer had dressed casually. Chinos, either a button-down plaid shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows or a polo shirt, and always running shoes. He couldn't remember the last time he wore a suit. But when he left later today he would complete his disguise with an elegant Versace pin-stripe, button-down tan shirt, a muted yellow tie, and a pair of calfskin Italian loafers that also matched the color of his fake hair. Finally, he would slip on fake glasses and a $14,000 Hublot watch that he had bought specifically for this occasion.

The killer got up and wandered over to the kitchen area, and used his Nespresso machine to brew a single serving of caramel-flavored coffee. Right now his target was in a Pilates class. He had plenty of time before he'd have to leave. As he sipped his coffee, he was amazed at how calm he felt. He had spent a year of planning and preparing — really two when you considered that he was forced to throw away a year's worth of plans because of that meddlesome Morris Brick. Now his vision was so close to coming to fruition that he could taste it. He smiled as he thought of how it tasted even sweeter than the caramel-flavored coffee.

The killer's mind drifted to thoughts of everything he had done since finalizing his plans six months ago. It was remarkable when he added it all up. Of course, he wasn't finished yet. There was still so much more to do, but if things worked out later that afternoon, tomorrow his masterpiece would be unveiled. People wouldn't see it in its entirety at once since it would take ten days to play out, but once completed it would be absolutely stunning. Breathtaking. The world would never forget it. Nor would the city of Los Angeles ever be the same.

Art of this magnitude didn't come cheap. You had to bleed for it, or in this case, have others bleed. So far the killer had had to take four lives. He didn't enjoy killing these people, but it was necessary and he had murdered them quietly without anyone noticing. Soon thousands more lives were going to be taken, and those deaths weren't going to be so quiet. He stood spellbound as he thought about how all these people were going to die, and how Morris Brick was going to be thrust into the center of the carnage.

A sensation below his waist caused him to glance downward, and he realized that these thoughts had given him an erection.

Parker spotted Natalie first as she waited alone at the outdoor table. The bull terrier let out several excited pig grunts and bulled his way forward, dragging Morris along. The dog scooted under the thick velvet rope that the restaurant used to mark off its outdoor café area, while Morris had to step over it and at the same time switch the leash to his other hand to keep from getting tangled up. Natalie watched with amusement. As always, she looked gorgeous. A petite, slender, dark-haired beauty who still made Morris feel weak in the knees with a smile, even after twenty-four years of marriage.

"Parker caught me off guard," Morris explained.

"He's good at that," Natalie admitted.

Natalie readied herself for the bull terrier's onslaught, grabbing Parker by his thick neck while the dog's rear end wiggled like crazy, his tail wagging at two hundred beats a minute, as he fought to lick Natalie's face. While this went on Morris snuck in a kiss of his own and took a seat adjacent to his wife. After a minute Parker calmed down enough to sit panting.

"He's happy to see you," Morris said.

"Nah, he's just trying to soften me up for some heavy-duty mooching."

Morris laughed at that. The dog could certainly mooch food with the best of them.

A waitress came over with menus. She was new here, otherwise she would've known better than to bring Morris a menu. He was a creature of habit. Ever since the actor Philip Stonehedge had turned him on to this Beverly Hills restaurant he had ordered only their fish tacos, and he did so again. Natalie took a menu and gave it a quick look before asking for an arugula and tomato salad. Morris asked the waitress to bring a roast beef and cheddar sandwich for Parker. "You can skip the bread, horseradish, lettuce and tomato. Just put the meat and cheese on a paper plate."

The waitress gave Parker a cautious look before asking whether the dog was friendly.

"He's a sweetheart," Natalie volunteered.

Morris concurred. "A bit of a clown, but a gentle soul."

This was mostly true, even though over the last year Parker had attacked two serial killers and bitten the arm of a hardened criminal who had pointed a gun at Morris during a jewelry store robbery. But as long as you weren't trying to kill Morris or others, the odds were good you wouldn't see that side of him.

The waitress patted the short, bristly fur that covered Parker's cement-hard head, and the dog's tail thumped against the terracotta-tiled patio. "I'll make sure to add some extra roast beef," she said with a wink. Morris waited until the waitress left before asking Natalie how her day was going.

"Busy." Natalie worked as a therapist and had her private office in downtown Los Angeles. "Before breaking for lunch I barely had time to catch my breath. But I have the luxury of not having to be back for another hour. Yourself? No new serial killer cases, hon?"

She said this mostly as a joke since Morris had sworn off those types of cases for his investigative firm, MBI, but some worry still showed in her eyes. Deep down inside she was afraid Morris would take on another of those cases, and she had good reason for this concern. The last serial killer case had left Morris battered and bruised, the one before that had brought a deranged killer to their door, and the very last one Morris had worked on while he was still an LAPD homicide detective almost killed him.

Her question also didn't come completely out of the blue. Natalie had serial killers on her mind because that night they were going to the Hollywood premiere of The Carver, a movie that was based loosely on a notorious serial killer Heath Dodd. Since Dodd's killing ground had been Miami, Morris wasn't involved in the investigation, but he had still been hired by the movie producers to consult on the film. Even with Morris's involvement in the movie, they probably would've skipped the premiere if Philip Stonehedge hadn't invited them to a private dinner party afterward.

"As far as I know Los Angeles is still serial killer free," Morris said. "If that changes, the LAPD will have to...