"wave. "Hey, girls." Myron Bolitar prided himself on big opening lines. The girls were both high school seniors, both pretty in that coltish way. The one sitting on the corner of his old bed--the one he had met for the first time an hour ago--was named Erin. Myron had started dating Erin's mother, a widow and freelance magazine writer named Ali Wilder, two months ago. This party, here at the house Myron had grown up in and now owned, was something of a "coming out" party for Myron and Ali as a couple. The other girl, Aimee Biel, mimicked his wave and tone. "Hey, Myron." More silence. He first saw Aimee Biel the day after she was born" --