"Well, I have no intention of beheading that vampire," Rae says, emotional exhaustion making her tone a mite defensive. No one likes thinking one themselves as pieces in someone's game, even at the best of times. "He and I have an understanding, uncomfortable as it is. I told Dr. Lecter so."

Her friend, Dr. Lecter. Every time his name comes up, it comes back again.

("Have you ever cooked with Hannibal, Rae?")

"Oh gods, Will," Rae says, feeling defeated. There's no way this is going to be all right. Leaving aside her empty glass, she presses the heels of her palms against her closed eyes.