it was just great, rory.  but rachel is already replying to the video director.
nice to meet you, mr. farmer.
i think bill's right, rachel. it's time you took more precautions. spector enters the conversation.
you can look around if you like. frank indicates it won't be necessary. nicki stops working out.
that's all right. it's an excuse to rest. it's my private place. i'm the only one who works out around here. frank glances at photos on one wall. most are of nicki from years ago; some show her performing with a band.
my own ego wall. no platinum records. frank spots a picture of two girls.
when i was a kid, i put a little band together. we played high school dances, stuff like that. then rachel joined the act. as you can imagine, she was quite a little entertainer. even then, she had a way of stopping the show. so i kind of quit. professionally, anyway.
it was pretty obvious who the star in our family was. frank looks back at the picture. nicki smiles.
he told rachel no sunday brunch at charlie's.
on the patio.
think of fletcher --
rachel! sandy harris is on the phone! rachel and frank look up.
ta da!
thought you'd like to know. everyone said she was a sure thing. of course, you know all about that. she raises an eyebrow, gives him a look. frank looks steadily back at her. she drops a small pile of mail beside the magazines.  several letters and a small packet. she's embarrassed by frank's gaze.
i'm sorry. that was out of line. it's none of my business.  here's today's question marks for you. she turns and walks briskly back to the house. frank watches her go, then looks slowly down to the pile. from across the pool, fletcher watches silently, then pushes his boat out into the deep water.
you're very thorough.
what's happening between you and rachel? frank glances at her.
come on. one minute she's got magnetic hands, the next she hates you. i can't figure out what it is now.
it's a living.
you think my life is pretty sickly, don't you?
you must. i do. frank steps into a tight, dark, little window alcove, checks the windows.
is it that easy? frank turns from the window to find nicki blocking his exit. she moves close to him and kisses him, her hands on his shoulders. the kiss ends and they look at each other.
but you don't want me.
i'm surprised. thorough fellow like you. why stop at one sister when you can fuck them both?
but you didn't say no to the boss. she starts to turn away from him, but his hands are on her now, holding her close, refusing to let her turn away. their faces are very close. it is tight and near here.
i don't need this from you.
it's not so simple.
let me go. he releases her, looks at her.
i was an idiot last night. there is a long pause.
what do you think about today?
you're right. he does.
he almost got fletcher today.
my darling fletcher.
he doesn't even know who hired him. he doesn't know who i am and i don't know who he is.
i went to a bar in east l.a. i asked around.  i talked to a man.
armando.  he arranged it. that's all i know.
 and then some.  till it's done.
i'm not sure.  i was very stoned.
no, no. you don't understand. the letters came first. i don't know who's sending them.  but they're reading my mind.  those were my thoughts. i hate her. it made me think i could do it.  but i could never hurt fletcher. never. you've got to stop it!
don't you even want to know why?
what if we can't -- frank motions her into silence. we strain to hear what frank hears. silently, frank goes to the door, crouch ing. he listens. there again is a distant growl from the dog upstairs. frank lifts his gun from the table, turns to nicki.
no, no.  stop.  i'm the one who.