IT'S NOT HARD TO LOSE THE TAIL. I can't believe Williams actually assigned a mortal to watch me, but I guess he figured if I wasn't with him, I'd be spending the day in the hospital with Max and David.

I take off down Sixth Avenue on foot. Straight down to the city, where I lose myself in the midday shopping crowd. From there I follow Broadway to the waterfront and head for Seaport Village. When I'm sure no one has spotted me, I hail a cab.

I have the driver drop me off in front of Mission Cafe. It's crowded as usual, and I simply walk in and straight through to the rear. I take the alley and wait until I can lose myself in a group at a crosswalk to scoot across Mission and head for home.

I use the back entrance, through the garage. The code lets me into the garage and the spare key I keep hidden behind a tool chest lets me into the house.

Only when the door is closed and locked behind me do I breathe a sigh of relief.

Then I change into my own clothes-a sweat suit and socks-and climb into my own bed.

I unplug the telephone because I'm sure it will dawn on Williams eventually that I might have come home. If he has a clue about me, he won't send a cop to check or come himself. I'm fairly sure he knows me well enough by now to realize what a mistake that would be.

For the first time in a week, I have no one to answer to, no one to fight, no one to save. I don't have to guard my thoughts. I pull the covers up around my neck and cry. My simple life has gotten so complicated. I don't know how to make things right.

I only know I've got to make some changes.