I’m willing to put this behind us and continue seeing you, on two conditions. Want to hear them?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll have to give me all copies of the tapes you made, and you’re going to have to agree to some changes.”

“Like what?”

“Like from now on I’ll make the rules.”

“Such as?”

“You’re going to see me at least twice a week. You’re also going to take my calls whenever I choose to make them, and you’re going to keep me informed as to where you are and what you’re doing every day. You’ll not be allowed to see other people, and you’ll tell me your plans for us in advance, and I’ll tell you if those plans are acceptable.”

“And in return?” she said.

“In return I’ll pay you…twenty-five hundred dollars a month. How does that sound?”

“Light.”

I laughed. “I’m willing to entertain a counter offer.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Very well, Nicki. What do you think is fair?”

“Two million dollars. And if you want to keep seeing me it will have to be on the same terms as the day we began the affair.”

I shook my head. “Have you been listening to me at all?”

“Yes. And I don’t appreciate the tone, or the content.”

“I’ve made you a fair offer. And I agreed to increase it. Within reason, of course.”

“You made me a whore’s offer, and a cheap one at that. You’re willing to throw away everything we built because of a measly two million dollars?”

“Are you listening to yourself?”

“You’re trying to turn our relationship into something you could get from a hooker!”

“Not true: a hooker wouldn’t try to blackmail me.”

She said, “Until now our relationship has been based on love and respect. You said I taught you a valuable lesson about love.”

“Yes, and now you’ve taught me a valuable lesson about blackmail.”

“The lesson’s not over, David.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t want to get into this if I didn’t have to, but…there’s more to this than you think.”

“Like what?”

“I have a backup plan.”

She stood, walked to the bathroom, came back holding some cotton swabs and three plastic zip lock bags. Then she took one of the cotton swabs and rubbed it against the inside of her cheek, and placed it carefully in the zip lock bag and handed it to me. The label on the bag said Nicki.

“What’s that for?”

She handed me a couple of swabs and the other plastic bags, one of which was labeled David. Then she said, “Nicki Hill’s my pretend name. My real name’s Katie Walker.”

“So?”

“Think about it.”

“Why? Is that name supposed to mean someth—”

My stomach lurched. I jumped to my feet, then vomited.

“Jesus, David!”

I puked again. I couldn’t help it. When I finally had the strength to speak I said, “This isn’t funny. How do you know about that?”

“Because I’m Katie.”

“That’s impossible. Total bullshit!”

“Sorry to break it to you David. I know you haven’t heard that name in 23 years, but it’s the name you gave the hospital so no one could trace me back to you and Mom. I’m your daughter. Your first born. And that swab contains enough DNA to prove it.”

21.

“YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY be…I mean…This can’t be true.”

“I understand it’s hard news to hear, but you’ll come to accept it over time.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I mean, you didn’t have any problems with me before today.”

“You’ve…you fucked me? Your own father? And fucked your brother?”

“You know I did, so there’s no need to be so dramatic about it. To you it’s a big thing. You know why?”

“Yes.