Frantic

“I shouldn’t have let you.”

“You couldn’t have stopped me. And I’m okay besides. You’re the one who’s hurt.”

Bobby ran a hand over his face. “Listen to us. After all this, we’re still arguing about the same thing.”

He glanced at the bed beside him, an invitation to sit down.

She lowered herself to the mattress. He was so close, she could feel the heat of him. If she leaned just a few inches to the side, she would be in his arms. The tremor that had shaken her legs and stomach since this whole thing started moved upward, lodging under her ribs.

“When I realized you were out there with that maniac…” His voice grew gruff and trailed off.

“Don’t.”

“I don’t know what I would have done.”

She turned to him, covering his lips with her hand. “Please, don’t.”

He clasped her hand in his. Holding it in front of him, he pressed his lips to her palm.

Shivers shimmered up her arm and through her body. She opened her mouth to tell him to stop, but no sound came.

He kissed her again, his lips caressing the inside of her wrist. Then the inside of her forearm.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. All she could do was stare into his dark eyes as his kisses flayed open her heart.

“I convinced them to let you out of here.” Val’s voice cut the quiet. She threw the curtain back.

Diana pulled her arm from Bobby’s grasp.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll come back later.”

The heat of blood rushed into Diana’s cheeks. She didn’t care what Val had seen. Simple embarrassment, she could live with. But the knowledge that one look from Bobby, one touch, one kiss, and she was willing to give up the independence she’d worked so hard for shook her to her toes.

She jolted up from the bed. “No need. Did you say the doctor is releasing Bobby?”

“She said she’d be in to talk with you in a minute, so you’ll have to take it up with her.” Val gave them both a wary look. “But I told her that you have a hard head.”

Bobby nodded. “True enough.”

“And that you’ll take full responsibility if you keel over and die.”

“Not a problem.”

Val focused on Diana. “I heard you met Dakota.”

“Who?”

“The new Lake Loyal dispatcher.”

It took Diana a second to pull up the memory. “Ah, the woman on the radio. She said her aunt knew you?”

“Oneida Perkins. She was a force of nature. Used to run the police station up there, never mind that I was the chief. Dakota is… let me say, almost as colorful but not quite so efficient.” A gentle smile curved Val’s lips as if she found the new dispatcher’s shortcomings somewhat charming.

“She saved my life.”

Val’s smile grew. “Listen, Lund is going to be here any minute to pick me up. Diana, you’re more than welcome to stay with us for the night. You too, Bobby.”

“Not necessary.” Bobby waved off the idea, then leaned down to grab his shoes, gripping the bed for balance.

Diana reached out to steady him, trying to brace herself against the feel of his solid arm under her hand.

Val’s expression turned to worry.

“I’m not sure you should be going home,” Diana said. “You look a little dizzy.”

Bobby straightened, holding the shoes. “I’m fine.”

Diana kept her hold on his arm. “Sure you’re not just trying to be macho?”

“Me? Macho?”

“You can’t stay alone.”

“I won’t be… if you stay with me.”

Diana couldn’t. It was a terrible idea. Just these last few minutes in the ER were enough for her to know that.

And yet she found herself nodding anyway.

***

Diana sat on the ottoman she’d slid beside Bobby’s living room couch. It had taken ten minutes to convince him to lie back on the pillows she’d mounded beneath his back and head, and ten more to convince him to let her check him out. If he insisted on being any more difficult, she was going to bop him one. “Look straight ahead.”

“Yes, doctor.”

Turning on the flashlight, she aimed the beam just past his left ear.

His pupil scoped to a small dot amid the rich brown iris.

“How am I doing?” He squinted against the light.

“I have to check the other eye.” She pointed the flashlight away from his face.

“I’m fine, Diana.”

“I’ll let you know if you’re fine or not. Now let me see your right eye.” She went through the same routine with the light on the right side.

“I told you.”

“Do you still have the headache?”

“The doctor said that might take a while to go away.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He groaned.

“Watch it. Irritability is also a symptom of concussion.”

“Only if it’s something new. You don’t have to hover over me, you know. I really am okay.”

“The bruises and headache say different.”

“Don’t listen to them. They lie.” He grinned. “An evening of rest, and I’ll be back to work tomorrow. And that’s only because I need the rest. And you’re here with me.”

“The doctor said you should take a few days off.”

“The doctor isn’t chasing a serial killer.”

“Well, how about sleeping in? Even Val said she—”

“Diana…”

Ignoring his warning tone, she touched the back of her hand to his forehead. “How does your head feel? Do you need more Tylenol?”

He reached up, capturing her hand. “I mean it, Diana. I brought you here because I don’t trust Perreth to find someone competent to protect you. You don’t have to take care of me.”

“You’re allowed to take care of me, but not the other way around?”

A sheepish grin spread over his face, but he didn’t let go of her hand. “All right. Point taken. I would love more pain pills.”

She extricated her hand from his. Tingles stole up her arm and turned to warm flutters in her chest as she walked into Bobby’s immaculate and hardly used kitchen. She grabbed the bottle of Tylenol and ran a glass of water from the tap, trying her best not to remember the last time she’d been in Bobby’s apartment. The day before their wedding—a wedding that had never taken place.

She’d come so far since that time. She hoped she’d put those kinds of doubts and fears behind her for good. The memory of how afraid she’d been that Bobby would find out who her father was, that it would change the way he felt about her, made her cringe inside.

She stepped into the doorway to the living room. Pausing, she let her gaze fall on Bobby. Her heartbeat quickened, the pounding irregular and jumbled in her chest. Seeing him had always done that to her, made her feel weak, needy.

Leaning against the pillows, he stared out the picture window, the streetlights’ glow falling on his face.

She carried the water and tablets to the couch. After handing them to him, she stood back and watched him pop them into his mouth and drink down the water.

“Now was that so hard?” She reached out for the glass.

Instead of handing it to her, Bobby trapped her hand in his. “Sit down.”

She hesitated. She must have been crazy agreeing to stay at his apartment. Sure, his building was security locked. Sure, she could watch him, make sure he was recovering properly from his blow to the head. But she didn’t have to think back to his kisses in the hospital to know it was a bad idea. She only had to look at him from across the room to experience the confusion he created in her.

“Haven’t you ever heard of bedside manner? Yours needs some work.”

She shook her head. God knew with his fingers wrapped around hers, her knees felt too weak to stand much longer anyway. She lowered herself to the ottoman.

“Don’t tell me. When you were growing up, you always wanted to be a doctor.”

She forced out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. She had to admit that being safe in his apartment, talking about silly things felt good. Normal. Something she hadn’t had a taste of in what seemed like a very long while. “Nope. Never wanted to be a doctor.”

“A nurse?”

“No.”

“What then?”

She allowed a smile to lift the corners of her lips. “Wonder Woman. Her name is Diana, you know.”

“I guess I should have figured that one out.”

“She’s strong. She can fly. She was in control.”

Bobby nodded. “Wonder Woman is definitely in control.”

“Got that straight.” Diana laughed a little and shook her head. Dwelling on fantasies would get her nowhere. She glanced at Bobby. “I suppose you always wanted to be a police officer.”

“Not until junior high. Before that I just wanted to be a big brother.”

“As in part of the group Big Brothers Big Sisters?”

“No. As in having a lot of younger siblings.”

Diana had to raise her brows at that. Bobby’s parents were both doctors. And as dedicated as they were to their chosen professions, they’d done well to raise one child, let alone more. “How many is a lot?”

“A dozen or so.”

A short laugh escaped her lips. She pressed a hand over her mouth.

“I dream big.”

“Why so many?”

“My parents were always trying to help other people. Through their work. Through charities.” He stroked his thumb along her index finger. “I guess I just wanted someone to need me too.”

Her throat pinched, making it hard to swallow.

“As it turned out, I never got those brothers and sisters. And I never knew what it was like to be really needed. Not until the job. Not until you.”

His words cut into her defenses. Into her self-control. She’d never understood before. Never even considered why he always took care of her. Only that it was a part of him. A part she couldn’t change.

She pulled her hand from his grasp and pushed up from the ottoman. Stepping to the window, she stared out into the blackness. “I can’t need you that way, Bobby. Not anymore.”

“I know.”

She closed the blinds.

Behind her, the couch rustled. His footsteps padded across the carpet.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” she said.

“What?”

“We were going to get married. We were about to actually walk down the aisle. And yet we never talked about this stuff before.”

“This stuff?” he asked.

“The secret, silly stuff.”

“You mean our dreams?”

“Yeah. Our dreams.”

“Since we met each other, my dream has been you.”

“Taking care of me.”

“That’s part of it.”

“And the other part?”

“Just being with you. Sharing things. I don’t think you realize what an extraordinary woman you are.”

Chills rose along Diana’s arms and over her back. It felt as if she’d waited forever to hear him say those words, even longer to believe them herself. But though she’d always envisioned this moment would make things clear in her mind, she couldn’t have been more wrong. Feeling Bobby’s heat behind her, hearing his voice, aching to be in his arms made her feel weaker and more confused than ever.

“I know you’re here tonight because I need you. But do you think maybe, in the future… do you think there’s a chance…”

Diana felt as if she were walking the edge of a cliff and one wrong step would send her falling into oblivion. “I don’t know.”

“Because I’m pretty sure I’ll need you tomorrow too. And the next day. And the next.” He raised a hand to her face. Touching her chin with a finger, he turned her head toward him.

She turned her whole body to face him, afraid to think, afraid to breathe.

“I’ve learned a lot in these past few days. About how strong you are. How much more confident than you seemed last fall. I never meant to undermine that.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“But there’s one thing that hasn’t changed. You’ve always been amazing. Most amazing woman I’ve ever known.”

She closed her eyes. His words washed over her. Words she never thought she’d hear. Words that gathered in her chest and filled her with warmth.

Filled her with power.

She took a step. Into his arms. Into his heat.

He brought his lips down on hers. Hungry. Demanding. Showing his need. His kiss at once familiar and totally new.

Diana pressed her body against the hard length of him. Devoured his kiss as he devoured hers. She’d stepped over the edge and was falling, but she didn’t care. Not about anything but the warmth of his body and the taste of his mouth.

Bobby skimmed his hands up her sides, taking her shirt with him. He slipped it over her head, then circled his hands around her back to unhook her bra.

Cool air caressed her breasts and puckered her nipples.

He moved his hands up over her ribs and cupped her in his palms.

Diana arched her back, pushing her breasts into the caress of his hands. She brought her hands to his shirt. Forcing her fingers to work, she slipped his buttons free and spread the fabric away from his chest.

His touch felt so good, so right. So much about the feel of him was the same. Warm. Safe. Yet so much had changed.

So much about her had changed.

She ran her hands under his shirt, soaking in the texture of his skin, the rasp of the hair sprinkled in the center of his chest. She wanted to recapture what they’d had. The passion. The heat. Yet she wanted something different. Something elusive. She could taste it on her tongue.

Heat shimmered in her chest, building and strengthening like kindling fire. She moved down his body, sliding kisses over his chest, his belly, tracing the trail of hair down to where it disappeared into his waistband. She settled on her knees. Raising trembling hands, she unfastened his belt and lowered his fly.

He buried his hands in her hair, his fingers massaging her sore scalp in a gentle caress.

She pulled his pants down his legs, taking his briefs with them. She’d been so young when they’d met, so young the first time she’d touched him, the first time they’d made love. She’d taken his body for granted. The strength of it, the power of it, the responsiveness to her touch.

She didn’t take it for granted anymore.

She brushed her fingers up the underside of his shaft, lifting him, bringing him closer to her mouth. She let her breath wash over him.

He pulsed with movement at her touch. A moan rumbled through his chest.

She wanted to spend all night touching him, tasting him, reveling in the way he moved under her caress. She wanted to savor the clear evidence of how much he wanted her. How much he needed her.

Warmth surged through her, pooling between her thighs. She’d never felt so desperate for him, yet so sure of her own strength, her own power. She wanted more. She wanted to show him how she felt. She wanted to see how he felt about her.

Slipping her tongue between her lips, she flicked up the same path her hand had taken. Reaching his tip, she slid her lips over him, taking him fully into her mouth.

He filled her, pressing against her tongue, moving down her throat. She took him as far into her mouth as she could, then slid her lips back to his tip.

A shudder shook his body. He cupped her head in his hands as if he needed to hold on.

She circled his thighs, each with one arm. She could feel his muscles tremble, feel him thrust forward each time she took him into her mouth. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward against his thighs. As she sank her lips over him, her nipples rubbed the rough hair on his legs. Tingles spread over her skin in waves.

He gripped her shoulders, as if desperate to hang on, desperate to keep control.

But he wasn’t in control.

Heat surged through her. She let him slide from her lips, cupping him between her breasts, moving against him. The friction of his skin and hair against her nipples made her want to cry out. It made her want more.

“Diana.” Bobby’s voice sounded low, gruff. “We need to slow down.”

She smiled, wanting to send him over the edge, wanting to feel him totally lose control. But he was right. Not yet.

She rose from her knees, skimming kisses up his body until she reached his lips.

“Come to bed with me. I want to show you some things too.”

Diana nodded, not sure if her voice would work, not wanting to talk.

He took her hand. Together they walked into his bedroom. Light streamed across the white span of comforter covering the bed.

Bobby hesitated in the doorway. He stepped back toward the dark living room, away from her.

Cool air rushed around her, chilling her skin where his heat used to be. “Where are you going?”

He gestured to the living room. “The light’s kind of bright in the bedroom, don’t you think?”

She shook her head. She didn’t want him to step away from her, even for a second. She didn’t want to be in the dark again. “I think it’s perfect. I want to see your eyes.”

He grinned and swept her back into his arms. Moving his hands down her sides, he quickly removed her jeans. Cupping her buttocks, he lifted her up against him, kissing her long and hard before lowering her to the bed and sitting beside her. “Lie back. Let me show you how I feel.”

She wanted to let him show her. She wanted to let him have his way, take her places she’d only visited in dreams. But not now. Not yet.

Putting her palm on his chest, she pushed him back onto the mattress. “Later. I’m not finished.” She straddled his hips, moving against his hard length before sinking onto him.

He filled her, stretched her so exquisitely she had to catch her breath. Then she started moving, her breasts swaying over him.

He caught her nipples in his mouth, kissing her, suckling her. All the while he watched her, his eyes soaking her in. Then she arched her back and rode him. And as the pressure inside her crested and broke, she felt like the most powerful woman on earth.

The Copycat Killer

He watched the single light in the window of the gargantuan stone mansion on the edge of Lake Mendota. The husband was gone, at least overnight. He was sure of it. He’d watched him carry a suitcase to his car and drive away this afternoon. The wife would be alone.

But not for long.

When she stepped outside on her terrace for her nightly glass of chardonnay, he’d be there.

He checked his syringe, his bag, the gardener’s cart in the back of his van. With the thick trees hugging the lot’s perimeter, this would be a piece of cake. Even easier than the laundromat. Less chance of being seen.

At the mansion, the porch light switched on and a slender, dark-haired woman stepped onto the patio, her wineglass shining clear and light yellow in her hand. A breeze kicked up from the west, lifting her hair and the hem of her skirt.

Beautiful.

Vulnerable.

But he didn’t feel the surge of pleasure warm his blood. Not for this one. She was Dryden’s. Part of whatever it was he was planning.

He turned off the dome light in his van and opened the door. Grabbing his bag and syringe, he slipped out and circled to the back to fetch the other tools of his trade.

He’d do his job tonight. Take this one to the place he’d taken the others. Tie her tight and secure. Wait for Dryden’s further instructions.

And after he bagged this last one, he’d figure out how to get his hands on what he really wanted.

His groin tightened at the thought of her.

It wouldn’t be long now.

Ed Dryden might not like it, but there came a time when a man stopped asking permission. Dryden had led him to her. He might as well have given her to him as the father gives the bride.

And the Copycat Killer was really looking forward to his and Diana’s honeymoon.

Bobby

Bobby climbed out of bed, careful not to wake Diana. His legs wobbled the first few steps. His head still throbbed.

He probably should have taken things a little slower last night. The doctor had advised avoiding "too much activity," and he was pretty sure what he and Diana had done had far surpassed that threshold.

Even now, he should take it slower, and not just physically. He should find out for certain things had changed before he charged headlong into his feelings for Diana. But the energy bubbling in his blood like champagne was too delicious not to enjoy. He had believed their relationship was over. To discover it didn’t have to be…

He resisted the urge to crawl back into bed, wake Diana, and make up for lost time. Instead he headed for the kitchen and his laptop. He could stay home for a few hours, take it easy, and still get some work done. His personal life might have taken a one-eighty, but his professional life was the same.

The Copycat Killer was still out there.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Diana padded into the room, her hair wet from the shower. She stepped up behind him and rubbed her hand over his back. “I thought you were under orders to rest today.”

Bobby turned to her. Smiling, he pushed himself up from his chair. “I think I already blew those orders last night.”

“How’s your head?”

“Much better.”

“Really?”

“You were the medicine I needed.” He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “You smell so good.”

“I took a shower.”

“Mmm…” He nuzzled her neck. “You smelled even better last night.”

“I missed you, Bobby.”

“I missed you too.”

“I wish we could just go back to bed… and stay there all day.”

He tilted his wrist to check his watch. “I might be able to carve out a couple of—”

A knock sounded on the door.

Diana frowned. “Who is that?”

“Only one way to find out.” Reluctantly, Bobby stepped away from Diana’s warmth and answered the door.

Val stood on the front step. She looked worse than he remembered, her face purpled with bruises, her arm pinned to her chest in a sling.

“Hey, Val, you look awful.”

“You don’t look so good yourself. But I’m glad I caught you. I was wondering if I could get a lift down to Madison. It turns out that in addition to not being an effective beauty regimen, being hit by a dump truck is not conducive to driving. Not with a bum arm anyway.”

“I thought you were taking the day off.”

Val narrowed her eyes. “You haven’t heard.”

“Heard what?”

“All hell has broken loose.”

Diana

When Diana had awakened that morning and climbed out of bed, the fatigue in her legs had felt delicious. The redness coloring her skin from cheeks to inner thighs caused by the stubble on Bobby’s face made her flush with heat. The spark in his eyes when he turned to look at her in the kitchen was contagious.

She’d never felt so powerful as she had last night. She wanted to hold on to it. She wanted it to never end.

And yet, she could feel it slipping away with every word from Val’s lips.

“Another woman has disappeared.”

Images of Nadine Washburn’s body flashed through Diana’s mind. She felt helpless. Sick.

“When?” Bobby asked, slipping on a shoe.

“Sometime last night. The husband was out of town. When he returned this morning, he found their two-month-old baby in the house alone.”

“The baby?” A baby without a mother. A baby lying alone in her crib for hours. Diana couldn’t breathe.

Bobby motioned Val inside. Once she was inside the door, he closed it behind her. Beyond that, none of them moved.

“How do we know it’s the copycat?” Bobby finally asked.

“Perreth. He went to see Dryden this morning. Early.”

Bobby gave a skeptical growl. “And Dryden talked to him?”

“Only to tell him the copycat took another victim.” Val paused. “And that’s not the kicker.”

There was more? Diana’s legs felt weak. She leaned against the wall.

Bobby pulled on his second shoe. “What else?”

“The husband. He’s the governor’s son. The whole damn world is going crazy.”

“Shit.”

Diana looked from Bobby to Val and back again. She understood their concern. Media attention and pressure from people with power made everything harder. She had only to remember the mess surrounding Dixon Hess a few years back. But while Val and Bobby concentrated on the big picture, Diana could only think about the terror of being kidnapped… and a child who’d lost her mother.

Diana and Bobby got ready and soon the three of them were on the highway to Madison. Bobby automatically climbed behind the wheel, and although Diana would prefer driving, she deferred, offering Val the front passenger seat and climbing into the back.

“I keep going back to Perreth,” Bobby said when they turned onto the highway.

“What about him?” Val asked.

“Since when is he meeting with Ed Dryden?” Bobby glanced at Diana in the rearview mirror. “I’m not saying this just because I hate the piece of shit.”

Diana gave him a nod.

“I just… Dryden has never talked to police before.”

“I didn’t visit,” Diana said. “He had to find some other way to reach me.”

“I suppose that makes sense. But why would Perreth just happen to drive up to the prison this morning? I feel like there’s something I’m missing.”

For a moment, Diana considered telling Bobby what had happened last fall and the way Perreth had been behaving since, then decided against it. Bobby would be furious. There was simply no way he wouldn’t confront Perreth. And what would the detective say? That all he’d done was cover her with his coat. That she was exaggerating to stroke her own ego. That he asked if it was okay, and she said yes.

And what proof could she offer to defend her story?

Nothing.

“Why all this focus on Perreth?” Val asked.

“He didn’t show up when we talked to Tillman yesterday, for one. Not until the whole mess was over. And when Diana’s friend Louis stopped in to tell us about a man he’d seen at Diana’s apartment building at the same time the copycat left that damned music box. Where did Parreth have to duck out to then?”

“You think Perreth might be the copycat?” Diana barely recognized the strangled-sounding voice as her own. She didn’t like Perreth. Every time he gave her one of his creepy smiles, she knew he was imagining her naked and terrified all over again. He was an awful human being. But could he be a serial killer?

“It would explain how the copycat knew where we were going to be yesterday,” Bobby said. “And how he knew where you were staying.”

“Or he could have simply been following you,” Val said. “And don’t forget Curt Tillman.”

Diana didn’t like the idea of her half brother being the copycat either, but she supposed they couldn’t ignore the possibility.

Val continued. “He could be communicating with Dryden through the lawyer they share. He’s Dryden’s son and an ex-con. That still seems more likely than…”

“A cop?” Bobby said.

Val tilted her head in agreement. “That’s my bias showing, I suppose. But it still seems a stretch that Tillman had time to circle through the house, grab a ski mask and overalls, and jump into the cab of that dump truck and run us down. I just don’t see it.”

“Which brings us back to where we started,” Bobby said. “Perreth.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll see if he’s made other visits to the prison and find out what he was up to yesterday. How about that?”

“Thanks, Val.”

“What can I do?” Diana asked. She sure didn’t want to have anything to do with Perreth, but she wasn’t about to sit around twiddling her thumbs either.

“How about those missing persons reports? If we can finally figure out who the second victim was and why he tried to hide her identity…”

“On it.”

The taskforce offices were three times as busy as they’d been the day before, and Bobby and Val were swept into a briefing meeting as soon as they arrived.

Diana hunkered down in her cubicle, watching the flurry around her and scrolling through reports of missing women. She knew the hoopla was only partly because the copycat had abducted a fourth woman. Most of it was centered around the fact that Cerise Copeland was married to the governor’s son.

The family she’d married into shouldn’t make her more important than Nadine Washburn or the two women killed last autumn, but in the real world, Diana knew it did. Just as she knew that missing women who looked like her—blond and Caucasian—were more likely to garner attention from the media than women of other races and ethnicities. The world was not a fair place.

Diana read one report after another.

A wife and mother of three who was traveling four miles to meet her cousin for dinner and never showed. Wearing a tank top, green sweater, and flip flop sandals.

A teenager who skipped school one day and was never seen again. A tattoo of angel wings on one shoulder.

A diabetic woman named Suzanne who never made it to work and left her insulin at home.

Diana read through each listing and noted each detail. She had no idea what she was looking for, but with each tragic story, she imagined the anguish of the family left behind. Wisconsin, Michigan, Minnesota, Iowa, Illinois, every state, seemingly every circumstance. And with each story, Diana felt more hopeless. With each, she had to wonder if the woman in question would ever be found.

She clicked on the next report. A resident of a Milwaukee suburb, this woman was really just a girl. Only eighteen, she went to homecoming with a group of friends. But while the friends all returned home from the dance, Krista Hansen never did.

Diana glanced at the boxes detailing the special dress Krista had worn, along with Christian Louboutin shoes borrowed from her mother. Her blond hair had been worn loose. Her makeup had been done just so, and her jewelry… emerald teardrop earrings and a necklace with emeralds and diamond chips.

Diana’s breath lodged in her throat.

It couldn’t be…

Could it?

She had read about the phenomenon in the research she’d done. How serial killers often kept victims’ jewelry as souvenirs of their kills. How some monsters gave this jewelry to women in their lives, their wives, daughters, girlfriends. How every time they looked at the jewelry, they could relive the murder, and assert their dominance over the woman they supposedly loved.

How could she be so incredibly blind?

It wasn’t Perreth.

And it wasn’t her half-brother Cord.

“Hey, Diana. I am going to be tied up for a while. Do you need any—”

Diana looked up at Bobby.

“What is it?”

She pointed to the monitor and forced the words from her lips. “Her necklace. Emeralds and diamonds. It sounds just like the one Louis gave me.”

Bobby

“He was always real polite. Quiet like. Never gave me no trouble. I can’t believe he got himself in some kind of mess with police.”

Peering over Stan Perreth’s shoulder, Bobby watched the manager of Diana’s apartment building flip through his entire ring of keys to find the one that fit Ingersoll’s door. Although Bobby had once acted as emergency response team commander in Sand County, this wasn’t Bobby’s jurisdiction. In fact, he should probably be grateful Perreth let him tag along, but he couldn’t quite manage the sentiment.

“Can’t believe it,” the manager continued, shaking his head as he plucked the appropriate key. “Just can’t believe it.”

Bobby couldn’t believe it either. Couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. Couldn’t believe he’d ignored his gut about Ingersoll. Here protecting Diana was everything to him, and he’d missed the small fact that her neighbor was a serial killer.

The manager held up the key like a prize then led the procession up the stairs to Ingersoll’s apartment door. They had already established the red-haired weasel had left early this morning, making deliveries for the food company he worked for. Another team was trying to track him down. But unsure what they’d find in the apartment, Perreth’s team was taking precautions just to be safe.

The manager slipped his key in the lock. The knob turned under his hand. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, sir. Now I need you to go back downstairs.” Bobby nodded to one of the officers and the cop escorted the manager to safety.

Giving a nod, Bobby pushed open the door and the team of officers and deputies swarmed into the one-bedroom apartment.

It only took seconds to confirm that Ingersoll wasn’t home. In fact, nothing much was in the apartment. A folding card table and single chair stood in the vacant living room. Empty pizza boxes were stacked on the kitchen counter. Ingersoll had lived here for two years, and yet looking at his living room and kitchen, one would guess he had moved in this morning.

An officer Bobby didn’t know emerged from the single bedroom. “Detective Perreth? You got to see this.”

Perreth stepped into the bedroom. Bobby followed.

Photos covered nearly every inch of the far wall like wallpaper. Photos of Diana sleeping. Diana undressing. Diana making love. Bobby’s head was cropped from those, selfies of Ingersoll pasted in their place.

Bobby’s head throbbed. “How in the hell did he take these?”

“There.” Perreth pointed to a spot high in the corner of the room. A stool perched underneath. “Step up and take a look.”

Bobby stepped onto the stool. Just under eyelevel for him, a smooth hole had been drilled through the drywall. He lowered his eye to the hole and peered through.

Diana’s bedroom spread out before him. The white flowered comforter across her bed. The chest of drawers where she kept her lingerie. The mirrored closet door that would reflect her image from wherever she stood in the room.

“A room with a sweet view.”

Still on the ladder, Bobby twisted to stare at Perreth. “What did you say?”

The detective glanced up from the photos. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Vaughan. She dumped your ass. She’s fair game now. Although these pics don’t do her justice. Believe me.”

“You know nothing about her.”

“Guess again, asshole. Who do you think found her in the woods last year? Believe me, she was grateful. She even let me cop a feel.”

Bobby didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate. He just launched himself off the step ladder and hit Perreth square in the shoulder, bending him forward just as he delivered a right uppercut into his gut.

The breath rushed out of Perreth with a gawh. He doubled over for a second but recovered quickly, bringing his hands up ready to deflect in case Bobby punched again.

“Stop! Knock it off!” Val yelled.

Bobby forced himself to stop, to step back.

“He punched me,” Perreth whined.

Val pointed at the bulldog detective. “You, outside. Someone’s looking for you.”

Perreth spun around and started for the door.

Bobby’s feet started after him.

“You,” Val held up her good hand. “Stay here.”

Mind finally clicking into place, Bobby turned his back to her and stared out the window. There was no way what the bastard was saying was true. No way. But Bobby had wanted to beat on him for saying it anyway.

“What the hell happened, Bobby?”

Bobby didn’t respond. There was no defense for what he’d done. And yet, he knew he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Val stepped in front of the window and studied him through shrewd eyes, the slanting rays of the afternoon sun glinting off her blond hair. “You okay?”

Bobby nodded, but he could tell she wasn’t buying it.

“Attacking Perreth? What were you thinking?”

“That he’s an asshole.”

She rolled her eyes. “Now everyone knows you’re an asshole too.”

“You don’t know what he said.”

“I don’t have to know to realize that you just got yourself in a world of trouble.” Val stepped past him and started studying the photos.

Bobby knew she was giving him a few seconds to compose himself. To suck it up and do his job. The problem was, it would probably take him months to cool down. Ingersoll, Perreth… right then, Bobby didn’t see a difference. He wanted to kill them both.

He closed his eyes. At least Diana wasn’t here. He never wanted her to see this. He never wanted her to know just what Ingersoll had in mind for her.

Nor what Perreth said.

Unfortunately, he knew damn well it would all come out. And it would be up to him to break it to her, prepare her for Ingersoll’s trial, the media storm, and the complaint Perreth would no doubt lodge against him.

A footfall sounded behind him. Bobby turned around to see Perreth, of all people, standing in the doorway. “What the hell do you—”

“No one has seen Ingersoll since he made his first delivery this morning.” Perreth looked past Bobby and focused on Val. “And do you know where he made that first delivery? I’ll give you one guess.”

Bobby’s gut tensed. “Banesbridge prison.”

Perreth nodded. “It’s part of his regular route.”

A connection that would have been easy to make… if anyone had thought to investigate Louis Ingersoll before Diana had recognized the necklace description an hour ago. “Is Diana still at the district office?”

“She was when I left.” Val said.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Good.”

Val glanced at Perreth and then back to Bobby. “Find Ingersoll. Bring him down, and this will be over. Diana will be safe, and the two of you don’t have to work with each other again. Can you handle that?”

Perreth grunted out a yes.

Bobby did his best to nod. Louis Ingersoll didn’t stand a chance, not with Bobby on his heels, and not with all the law enforcement agencies in southern Wisconsin scouring the area for him. But somehow that didn’t make him feel better.

It didn’t make him feel better at all.

The Copycat Killer

Louis Ingersoll had always known he was taking a risk. That’s what exceptional people did. Took risks. Confronted the world on their own terms. And sometimes that didn’t work out as well as they’d hoped.

That’s why he had a fallback plan.

As he approached his apartment and saw unmarked police cars parked at the curb about a block away, he took the next right. After putting a few blocks between him and the cops, he pulled up the find-my-phone app on his cell phone and logged in.

Louis had a place up north. He had money socked away. Food. Some good wine. Dryden’s newest, the one Louis had taken last night, was there. But he could take care of her ahead of schedule. Dump her somewhere she wouldn’t be found. Then they’d have the lighthouse all to themselves.

A regular honeymoon.

Louis logged into the tracker website. The map came up. A moment later, the pin showing him where to go.

It was time.

Louis had grown into who he wanted to be. He didn’t need Dryden anymore. He didn’t need instructions from prison. He didn’t need to follow a hunting ritual he no longer found satisfying. He had his own plan. His own fantasy. There was only one more thing he needed.

His Diana.

Diana

“I’ll have a large black coffee, please.”

The barista crooked a brow. “Venti?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry.” Diana paid for the drink and moved down the counter to wait for it to be made.

Sitting around the taskforce offices doing nothing had driven her nuts, but she had nowhere else to go. Finally she’d settled on a trip to the Starbucks across the street. A chance to stretch her legs, get some decent coffee, and be back in less than ten minutes.

She checked her phone for the fifth time since she’d stepped through the coffee shop door. No texts from Bobby. No missed calls.

Could the police have found Louis, and Bobby was just too busy to let her know quite yet? It was a nicer thought than that he simply had no news to tell. That Cerise Copeland was still caught in her nightmare. That Louis was still out there. That he was still—

“There you are.”

At first, Diana thought she must have imagined his voice. Then she turned.

Although a storm was rolling in outside, light from the floor-to-ceiling windows cast him in shadow, but she didn’t have to see his face clearly to know who he was. “Louis. Hi.”

“What’s wrong? You look upset.” He slipped his hand into his pocket.

Diana couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She glanced around the coffee shop, but everyone seemed to be going about their business. A mother scolding her daughter for kicking the counter. An older man reading a good old-fashioned print newspaper. A teenage girl who should be in high school rather than skipping to get her caffeine fix. Innocent people going about their normal lives with no idea there was a serial killer standing amongst them.

Remain calm.

Remain calm.

“How did you know I was here?” Diana’s voice trembled. She hoped he didn’t notice.

“I always know where you are.”

“How?”

“You and I… we have a connection.”

“Louis… I…”

“You know it’s true. It’s always been true. What can I say? I’m a romantic. The moment I saw the apartment next to you was for rent, I knew it was meant to be.”

Diana shook her head. That was over a year ago now. Before she was kidnapped. Before Bobby and she split up. Before police found the first victim of the Copycat Killer.

He’d been stalking her all this time?

“How did you know who I was… I mean back before you moved in. How did you…”

“It’s okay.”

Diana shook her head again. If this was anything, it was not okay.

“I’ve been a fan for a while.”

“A fan? A fan of whom?”

“Your father.”

At first Diana’s thoughts went to Norman Gale. A petty, controlling, cruel man in his own right, but then…

Of course.

“Ed Dryden told you about me?”

Louis smiled. “Right after you visited for the first time.”

She supposed some people would say she brought this on herself too. She’d done one thing, a normal thing people who were adopted did every day—look for her birth parents—and it had pulled not just Dryden into her life, but Louis, Professor Bertram, and even Perreth.

“Your father wanted me to keep an eye on you. Take care of you.”

“Manipulate me, you mean.”

“It wasn’t like that. Not for me.”

Sirens screamed from somewhere outside the coffee shop.

“We should go now.” Louis put his hand on her arm.

Reflexively, Diana pulled away. “I… I’m still waiting for my coffee.”

“Fuck, Diana. Do what I say.” Louis grabbed her arm and started pulling her toward the door.

Diana yanked back, slamming her arm into the woman and little girl.

The woman glared at her. “Watch where you’re going.”

Louis caught her wrist, his grip strong as a vise.

Diana was about to start screaming when Louis dipped his free hand into a pocket. When he withdrew it, he was holding a knife. He flipped open the short but very sharp-looking blade. “I won’t hurt you. But these others…”

“Hey, honey. Is he bothering you?” the older man said.

Great. Now someone noticed. Diana faked a smile. “No, sorry. We were just leaving.”

Louis nodded. “We have so much to catch up on.”

“Deena?” The barista called.

Diana held up a hand. “Just let me grab my coffee, okay? You know how I love my coffee.”

Louis kept his hold on her wrist.

“Please?”

He gave her a little smile. “I guess… if it’s ready…”

Diana threaded through the handful of people huddled around the counter, Louis in her wake. Everything inside her was screaming for her to run. Just take off into the crowd. Race out the back door. Leave these other people to take care of themselves.

But she couldn’t.

Of course, she also couldn’t go with him. That was the first thing they taught in self-defense classes. Don’t get in a car with someone you don’t trust. Never let him take you to a secondary location. Make a stand in a public place.

And risk letting him hurt all these people?

Diana picked up her coffee cup. She needed to think of something. Anything.

She had an idea.

“I need a little cream. Do you mind?” She managed to give Louis what felt close to a genuine smile.

“Go ahead. But hurry.”

Diana stepped over to the creamer and pulled off the cup’s lid. She never took cream with her coffee. On the other hand, the couple of times she’d offered Louis coffee at her apartment, he’d always asked for milk. She suspected it never occurred to him that she would have her own preferences.

Come on, sirens. Head this way. Come on.

She splashed a little half-and-half into the cup and set the lid loosely back on top. Then she started for the door. Her heart seemed to pound harder with each step, until she was sure the whole coffee shop could hear its thunk.

Louis walked close behind her. Too close. One slash with the knife...

They reached the door. Diana pushed it open.

Three more steps.

Two.

The door closed behind Louis.

Now.

Diana twisted around. At the same time, she brought the coffee cup up, and threw the hot brew in Louis’s face.

“Fuck!” Louis brought his hands up.

At that second, Diana drilled her knee straight into his unprotected groin.

Bobby

Bobby’s focus was on the police offices across the street when a fight caught his attention on the sidewalk in front of a coffee shop down the block. It took a second for him to realize one of the combatants was Diana. And the other was…

Louis Ingersoll.

“That’s him!” Val yelled. She grabbed the radio and started calling in the address.

In front of them, Perreth switched on lights and sirens.

Traffic slowed. Stopped. Bobby was about to bail out of the car and take the rest on foot when Diana broke away. She dashed inside the coffee shop.

Hunched forward as if hurting, Ingersoll glanced toward them. He stared a second, maybe two, then made a beeline for a white delivery van at the curb.

“He’s making a run for it,” Val said in a surprisingly calm voice. “Southbound.”

The van squealed out into traffic.

Perreth hit the gas and Bobby did the same, weaving between stopped cars.

Hurry, hurry, hurry.

A car jutted into the street ahead of them.

Perreth slammed on the brakes. Bobby swerved to avoid his bumper.

The white van kept going.

It careened around the bend, traveling fast.

Too fast.

Rubber screeched against pavement.

The air shuddered with a screech and the smack of steel on steel.

“That didn’t sound good,” Val said.

“This is ridiculous.” Bobby released his seat belt and threw open the door. He climbed out, but instead of following the street around its curve, he vaulted a row of bushes and set off kitty-corner across a yard, cutting the distance.

He could see the wreck ahead of him. The van sat at an angle, its front fender buried into the side of a parked car. Red and blue flashed over a scurry of officers. The light throbbed like a strobe in the storm-darkened sky, making their movements look jerky and unreal.

Officers surrounded the van, drawing down on the driver’s door. Perreth’s solid form marched toward the vehicle.

Drawing his weapon, Bobby reached the inner perimeter of cars just as the bulldog detective approached the van.

“I got him. I got him.” Perreth yanked open the door.

Movement flashed from inside. A shock of red hair, the dull glint of a rifle barrel.

Stop the threat.

Bobby didn’t think. He didn’t feel. He just closed his finger over the trigger and squeezed.

BANG!

He gave with the Glock’s kick, letting the movement bring his gun back into position for the next tap.

BANG!

Louis Ingersoll’s eyes flared wide. Red bloomed at his throat. He fell to the floor of the van, the rifle clattering out of the van and onto the pavement.

Perreth staggered back and sank to the ground, as if realizing how close to dead he’d just come.

Bobby kept his gun trained on the still form, waiting for some kind of relief to wash over him, waiting for satisfaction to fill his chest.

Neither came.

The Copycat Killer was dead, but this wasn’t over. A woman was still out there. Bound. Frightened. Alone.

A woman only Louis Ingersoll and Ed Dryden knew how to find.

Diana

Diana had never been so happy to see anyone as she was when Bobby walked through the door. After Louis had bolted, she’d scurried back into the coffee shop. From there, she’d seen police cars race by. She’d heard the crunch of steel on steel. The sirens. Police. Ambulances. Gunshots. And then…

Nothing.

If any of the ambulances had made a trip to the hospital, they’d had no need for sirens.

She’d tried to walk down the block to see for herself what had happened, but police had set up barriers to prevent anyone getting through. So she’d returned to the taskforce offices.

To wait.

To hope.

She sprang out of her cubicle and met Bobby in the doorway.

A smile lit his eyes but didn’t lift the lines etching his face. If possible, he looked more tired and pale than he had in the hospital. As if at this moment, life was too heavy to bear.

“What happened?”

He reached out and grasped her hand, holding her fingers tight, as if afraid she’d slip away. “Not here.”

He pulled her across the bustling space and into one of the offices. Shutting the door behind him, he split the blinds with his fingers and peered out between the slats. “I have to make this fast.”

Now he was scaring her. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to fold herself in his arms and know they were both safe. She leaned a hip on the edge of the desk and hugged her arms around her middle. “He wanted me to go with him.”

“I saw you outside the coffee shop.” The corners of his lips lifted for a second. “Guess those self-defense classes paid off.”

“I keep thinking about the way he looked at me. The time we spent alone in my apartment going through news clippings about serial killers. Clippings about Dryden. He said Dryden told him about me. That’s why he moved next door.”

“Ingersoll has been making regular deliveries to the prison for four years. Dryden works in the kitchen on a regular basis, so I’m guessing they passed notes to one another by tucking them into the produce or hiding them somewhere in the walk-in cooler.”

“I heard the crash… and gunshots.”

“He’s dead, Diana.”

“Dead?” She’d cared about Louis once. He’d been her friend, or at least she’d thought so. But she felt only numb now.

“I shot him. My union rep should be here any minute.”

“Oh God, Bobby. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Or I will be. That isn’t what’s bothering me.”

Diana reached out for his hand. He wasn’t a cavalier man. Taking a life, even that of a serial killer, was a traumatic thing, something Bobby would take seriously. So what could possibly be bothering him more than—

“Did you find the woman… the baby’s mother?”

He shook his head.

The obstruction in her throat expanded, making it hard to breathe. She could see the poor woman in her mind’s eye. Tied in an isolated place. Alone. Terrified. And a baby growing up without a mother.

Diana knew what she had to do. “Dryden. I need to see him.”

Bobby shook his head. “Val called the prison. He refuses to talk if police are monitoring.”

“He’ll talk to me.”

“Diana, did you hear what I said? He won’t allow us to monitor. If you walk into that interview room, you’ll have to go in totally alone.”

She willed her knees to hold her upright. “Then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll get down on my knees if need be.”

“Dryden isn’t going to tell you where that woman is and you know it.”

Bobby might be right. Diana didn’t have to try very hard to remember the amusement on Dryden’s face when she’d nearly begged him to tell her Nadine’s location. She doubted a baby would make any difference. Not to a man incapable of sympathy. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t not try.”

Bobby blew a breath through tight lips. “I’m not going to let you go in there alone. Not after what I saw.”

“What you saw?”

The planes of his face hardened. He turned away.

“Bobby, tell me.” She gripped the edge of the desk. “It’s about me, isn’t it? Something Louis planned to do to me?”

She couldn’t suppress the shudder that seized her. Had Louis planned to do to her what he’d done to those other women? What Professor Bertram had tried to do to her? Or was it something else? Something she couldn’t even imagine?

Something she didn’t want to.

“Louis… Perreth…” Bobby trailed off.

“Perreth?”

“He told me, Diana. Well, he sort of bragged about it. He saw you… in the woods, didn’t he? Touched you.”

Diana's face felt hot. She shook her head, wanting to forget about all that, wishing it had never happened.

“You need to report him.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. None of that matters. Not now.” The important thing was finding the woman Louis had kidnapped. They had no way of knowing if she was still alive. But if they didn’t find her, she would surely die. “Perreth won’t get an opportunity to take advantage of me ever again. And Louis… obviously he can’t hurt me now.”

“Dryden can.”

She tried to swallow. Her mouth tasted like sand. “He’s still in prison. And his copycat is dead. I’m willing to take the risk.”

Bobby’s dark gaze drilled into her. “I’m not.”

Diana stepped around the edge of the desk, close enough to touch him. Every cell in her body screamed for her to reach out for him, to get lost in his arms, to let his warmth and kisses and love take all of this away. But she couldn’t.

“Let law enforcement handle this, Diana. All the agencies are working on it. We’ll find her.”

A pit opened up in Diana’s stomach, dark and empty and aching. Nothing had changed. Bobby was still taking care of her. Still sheltering her. Still trying to fix her life.

And worst of all, deep down, she wanted to let him.

She thought back to last night, to how close she felt to Bobby after he confessed to needing her, how powerful she felt when they were making love. She longed to crawl into those memories, to feel those things again, to live them.

If only they were real.

There was only one reality now. For that poor mother. For her baby. And only Diana could do anything to change it.

Reaching out a hand, Bobby ran his fingers up and down her arm, as if trying to warm her. “Stay in here. I’ll make this as short as I can, and then we can figure this out. All right?”

Heat fanned over her skin, followed by cold. She drew herself up. He had to go. To meet with his rep. To be debriefed. To do his job.

And she had something to do also. She just prayed she had the courage to see it through. “Go ahead.”

“And you’ll be here when I’m done?”

Diana hated lying to him. Hated the old feelings yawning inside. Hated the despair carving out her hopes and dreams and leaving nothing but an empty carcass. She drew in a deep breath and pushed the words through her lips. “Yes. I’ll be here.”

***

By the time Diana reached the prison, it was late, long past visitation hours, and there was probably only a skeleton staff working. Standing just inside the security screening area of the prison, she checked her watch then glanced through the metal detector and toward the door. She half expected Bobby to burst through at any moment, hellbent on saving her. But he didn’t come. His obligations surrounding Louis’s death and the scramble to find the governor’s daughter-in-law must be keeping him busy. Too busy to notice yet that she was gone.

A clang reached her from down the hall, a sally port sliding closed.

Standing straight, Diana pushed away a shiver of nervousness and faced the door that led into the prison.

The door buzzed and swung open. Corrections Officer Seides’s broad shoulders filled the doorway. “Ms. Gale? Sorry it took me so long. We had a few problems tonight.”

“Problems?” She braced herself, waiting for him to say that Bobby had called, that he’d told them she wasn’t allowed inside.

“Nothing big. A few inmates feeling their oats is all.”

She let out a breath, trying not to show her relief. “As long as everything turned out okay.”

“Yeah, we got ’em secured. You said this was urgent?”

Diana nodded. She’d called on the drive to the prison to try to get emergency clearance for her visit. Usually her visits had to be set up well in advance, but she hoped prison officials would let her go through based on her previous involvement with the police investigation. And she hoped they wouldn’t have to clear it with Bobby. “I explained the situation when I called.”

“Something about the woman who went missing in Madison?”

“The governor’s daughter-in-law, yes.”

“Horrible thing.”

“Yes.”

“Well, let’s get you back there.” He held the door open and ushered her inside with a wave of a beefy arm.

They marched down the halls and negotiated the sally ports until they reached the tiny room just outside the interview room. Officer Seides switched on the camera and left to fetch Dryden.

Diana stared at the screen showing the empty chairs and small table where she would once again face her father. On the drive up, she’d tried to come up with a plan. She’d thought about all the things Trent Burnell had told her. She’d even considered taking Nikki Dryden’s twisted advice. In the end, she wasn’t sure how she would handle this or even if she could handle it at all. But she would do everything she could. Of that she was sure.

Time ticked by.

Five minutes.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Finally, the door from the cell blocks into the interview room opened, and Seides led Dryden inside. He secured Dryden to the chair that was riveted to the floor and let Diana into the room.

As she lowered herself into a facing chair, a smile snaked over Dryden’s thin lips. “I’m so glad we could have this time alone. Just father and daughter. No police to come between us. Our private visit. As it should have been all along.”

A shiver trickled down her spine. She averted her gaze, taking in the baggy prison jumpsuit, his clean, trimmed nails and the red nylon binders securing his hands to the chair.

“You’re wondering about these?” He lifted his hands against the restraints. “They seem a little cut-rate, don’t they? Makes you wonder where your tax money is going.”

“Where are your handcuffs?”

“It seems there was a disturbance. I suspect my deluxe steel handcuffs are being used to fasten a couple of particularly nasty individuals while the guards get everyone under control.” He pulled up against the binders a second time. “Some of these inmates are true animals.”

He watched her, as if eager to see the irony of his words sink in.

She kept her expression carefully neutral. “The Copycat Killer kidnapped another woman. A woman with a two-month-old baby this time.”

His smile faded. “I’m not here to talk police business, Diana. I want to talk about family. How did you like meeting your brother?”

Curt Tillman.

A mix of emotion whirled through her. The memory of how much he resembled Dryden. The anger that seemed to coil inside him ready to spring. The overwhelming desire to connect with her brother and the resulting disappointment.

“You liked meeting him that much, huh?”

She took a deep breath, wiping the frown from her face. It was no use trying to hide her feelings from Dryden. He could read her as easily as a traffic sign. “Why didn’t you tell me about him right away? Why the hints and games?”

“Games can be fun. Recreational.”

Games with people’s emotions. Games with people’s lives. “I know Curt isn’t the Copycat Killer.”

He crooked a brow. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because Louis Ingersoll is.”

He didn’t react. Not with the twitch of a brow. Not with the quirk of his lips. “Who is Louis Ingersoll?”

She thought of Bobby’s theory that the two killers had communicated by passing notes hidden in the fresh produce Louis delivered to the prison kitchen. Did Dryden really not know Louis’s name? It was possible. Or was he merely playing more of his games? “Louis was my next-door neighbor. I thought he was my friend.”

“Was?”

“He’s dead.”

Dryden licked his lower lip. “How did he die?”

Diana didn’t know the details. She hadn’t thought to ask. All she knew was who had shot him. “He was shot. That’s all I know.”

“You’re not in the loop? I find that hard to believe.”

“The police don’t know I’m here. They didn’t want me to come.”

“You mean Vaughan didn’t want you to come.” Dryden’s thin lips pulled back in a grin. “You’re too good for him, you know.”

“I’m not going to talk about Bobby with you.”

“No, you came to talk about this woman. The one with a baby. The one, I’m guessing, the police can’t find because they shot this Louis Ingersoll.”

“Where would he have taken her?”

“Why do you insist on doing the police’s job?”

“I’m not doing their job.”

“Then why are you bothering me with these questions? We have more important things to talk about.”

“More important than a woman dying?”

“A lot of women die.”

They certainly had at his hands. “This one has a baby. A baby who’s going to grow up without a mother.”

He looked at her with dead eyes. “And that’s supposed to make my heart bleed?”

Of course Dryden didn’t care. He wasn’t capable. “Please. For me. Will you do it for me?”

“For you?”

“Please.”

“I told you the next time we met, I wanted you on your knees.”

Diana figured their talk would lead to this. Now that the moment had come, she was ready to submit. Get on her knees. Humiliate herself. Do whatever stupid deferential things he asked of her. A small price to pay for getting a woman home safely to her child.

Here goes nothing.

Diana pushed up from her chair, circled the table, and knelt down on the floor in front of him. The hard concrete seemed to suck the warmth from her body. “Tell me where she is. Please.”

“Why? Why should I do this for you? You’ve been more loyal to the police than you have been to me.”

“I’m not with the police now.”

“A start. But it proves nothing.”

“What do you want from me?”

“That’s easy. I want my little girl.”

“I am your little girl.”

“No, you’re not. You’ve changed.”

“I can change back. I can be whatever you want.”

“Can you?” His eyes glinted. “Prove it.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to call me Daddy.”

The word stuck in her throat. She forced it out. “Daddy.”

“That sounded more like a curse.” He yanked his arm upward, straining against the nylon. “Say it the right way.”

Fear crept up her throat, tasting metallic, like rusty tin. She thought of Trent Burnell’s warnings, of Bobby’s concerns. They were right. She couldn’t win.

She’d never be that little girl again. Dryden could manipulate and humiliate and bring her to her knees, but it would never make him feel the way he wanted because she’d never again look to her daddy with the tender, dependent, unblemished trust of a child.

And that wasn’t something she could fake.

She closed her eyes, blocking Dryden’s face from her mind. There was only one thing left to try. It probably wouldn’t work, but at least it didn’t require her to fake anything. “I can’t give you what you want. I won’t. But if you really want to win back a little of the respect I had for you once, you can tell me where that woman is.”

He stared at her for what felt like forever. When he finally spoke, his voice hissed barely above a whisper.

“Respect? Oh, I’ll have your respect.”

A chill seized her, colder than anything she’d ever known. She opened her eyes.

Dryden’s cruel face loomed inches from her own. He stood, free of his bindings, the light reflecting off a blade in one fist. “You will call me Daddy. And you’ll say it with love.”

Bobby

The moment Bobby opened the door and stepped into that empty office, he knew where Diana had gone. But the sting of her lying to him again was nothing compared to his uneasiness about her facing Dryden again… alone.

His debriefing and string of meetings after the shooting had taken a long time, plenty of time for Diana to have already made the drive up to the prison. So Bobby had jumped in the car and called the prison once he was on the road. He’d spent nearly the whole trip on hold, but just after he passed the turn off to Lake Loyal, Corrections Officer Seides finally picked up the line.

“Vaughan, right? Sure. She’s here. Are you saying you didn’t know about this?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And she doesn’t have police clearance to talk to Dryden.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m sure.”

“Huh.”

Bobby wasn’t sure what kind of answer huh was. “So we’re on the same page, right? Don’t let her in.”

“I wish you’d called a little earlier.”

A hollow feeling opened up in Bobby’s gut. “Get her out of there.”

“She’s fine. They’re just talking.”

“Get her out of there.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what the harm is. He’s in prison, for cripe’s sake. It’s not like he can hurt her. And she said he could help find the governor’s daughter or whatever. Now if there’s nothing else, I have a job to do.”

Bobby turned into the drive leading to the prison and cut off the call. If Seides wouldn’t get Diana out of there, he’d do it himself. She would be angry. She’d probably accuse him of controlling her. But she’d just have to get over it or leave him all over again.

At least she’d be safe.

Diana

This couldn’t be happening.

Diana stared at Dryden. The nylon binders that had secured his hands lay on the floor. Cut. She couldn’t make sense of it. Any of it.

He reached a hand toward her and grabbed a fistful of hair. Pulling her face toward his, he smiled. The strong scent of mint carried on his breath. “I have some things to do, then we’ll talk like a father and daughter should.”

Diana looked to the camera. Where was Officer Seides? Wasn’t he watching? Didn’t he see?

“No one’s coming for you. That guard who brought you in here? He’s on a paid vacation.”

Seides? Paid to turn his back?

Her mind stuttered. She was on her own with Dryden. She really was on her own.

Dryden released her hair. He brought the knife toward her throat.

She focused on the ice-blue gleam of his eyes, waiting for the blade’s sting. Waiting for death.

He grabbed the front of her T-shirt and brought the knife down, slicing the length of the shirt in one swipe. He spun her around and wrenched her arms behind her, then tied the fabric tight.

Diana thrashed and kicked, but it made little difference. Once her arms were immobilized, he flung her to the ground and sat on her legs. Then a few more swipes with the knife, and he turned Diana’s jeans into bindings as well, securing her ankles. Then he stood above her, looking down.

“Help me! Please! Somebody!”

“None of that.” Dryden drilled his foot into Diana’s side.

Breath exploded from her lungs. She gasped, trying to breathe, desperate to breathe.

Turning away from her, he grabbed the movable chairs. He jammed one under the handle of each door then moved to the camera with the third, raising it over his head. He brought one of the chair legs hard against the device. The lens shattered. The camera ripped from the bracket holding it and swung from its electrical cord.

Dryden set the chair on the table. Using the immovable chair that he’d been shackled to as a stepping stool, he climbed to the tabletop and reached up to an air grate in the old ceiling.

Diana watched him, lungs aching, convulsing. Even if she could breathe, she was tied. Even if she could breathe, she couldn’t get away.

Dryden pried the grate free of the air vent. Climbing down from the table, he twined his fingers in Diana’s hair. He lifted her to her feet.

She twisted and thrashed against him. Her scalp felt like fire.

“I told them I wanted to be transferred to a nicer facility. They should have listened. They should have done what I asked. But this place definitely has its advantages. At least the part that hasn’t been renovated yet. Let me show you.” He stepped up on the table, then lifted her by an arm.

“No. You don’t have to do this. We can talk here. I’ll do what you say.”

“I know you will. But I like my privacy. This is family business.” He positioned the chair on the tabletop directly under the open vent. He climbed onto the seat.

She wasn’t going to let him take her out of here. She wasn’t going to let him haul her who-knew-where. She twisted in his arms, lowered a shoulder and plowed into him, trying to knock him off the chair.

His arms encircled her. “You can’t fight me. I’m your father. I’m your god.”

She pushed a scream from her throat and thrashed against him.

A snarl twisted his thin lips. He drew back and plowed his fist into her face.

Her head snapped back. Her ears rang. Blood filled her mouth. He hit her again, and then she could feel him lifting her like she was nothing, stuffing her into the vent.

The crack and pop of the metal duct echoed around her. Her head throbbed. She fought to clear her mind, tugging herself to the surface of darkness only to slip back under. Then he was pushing her. Dropping her.

She slammed against a hard floor. Dust filled her mouth. She sputtered and coughed.

“Not very nice, but we’re alone.” His voice taunted in her ear. “Just daddy and little girl. Quality time. That’s the important thing.”

She wanted to spit in his face, to tell him to go to hell. All she could manage was a groan.

His hand smacked against her cheek. “Time to wake up, sweetheart.”

She opened her eyes, lids at half-mast.

His face hovered inches from hers. His ice-blue gaze drilled into her, through her.

Her body shook uncontrollably, trembling from the inside out. This was worse than the dark cabin, worse than running through the woods at night. But damn it…

She ground her teeth together. She couldn’t give in. Not to Dryden. Not to panic.

Not this time.

She forced her eyes wider and tried to see where he’d taken her.

Artificial light slanted in from a transom window high overhead. Dust stirred thick in the air, making the light look dense, solid. Through the swirl, murky shapes hulked in the darkness. Unused furniture? Construction equipment? She couldn’t tell. Wherever Dryden had taken her, the space hadn’t been used in a long time.

“After all the stories I read to you, I think you should tell me a story this time. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“A story?”

“You keep asking me questions about this copycat, but you knew him better than anyone did, didn’t you, Diana?”

Louis. Nausea swirled in her stomach and pushed at the back of her throat. She had known him best. Or she thought she had. Now just the idea of him made her want to vomit.

Or maybe she had a concussion.

“The papers wrote about him, but they left out a lot. I’ll bet you can tell me more.”

“I can’t tell you anything.”

“I don’t believe that. Didn’t Vaughan let you see the crime scene photos? Didn’t he give you a peek of the autopsy reports?”

Diana started to shake her head, but the pain stopped her short. “No.”

“I know you saw the last one. You found her spread across your bed.”

She didn’t have to dig very deeply into her memories to recall the shock of discovering Nadine’s mutilated body. “You told him to do that.”

“Of course. It was for your own good. Sometimes a father has to discipline his daughter. No matter how much it hurts.”

Just as she had thought. But that wasn’t all. “And you wanted me to tell you about it.”

His teeth glinted white through the dust. “I hoped.”

She shuddered.

“How did he kill her, Diana? Tell me. Was she naked? Did he cut off her clothes with a knife?” He looked down at her bra. A smile snaked over his lips.

The gleam in his eyes made her want to retch. But she held on, forcing herself to meet those eyes, no matter how much she wanted to look away.

If not for her lacy slip of a bra, she would be half naked in front of him. Those dead eyes looking at her.

Her own father.

Humiliation clogged her throat, mixing with the dust and blood.

Nikki had been right about her Eddie. Not surprising, exactly. But if she was right about his twistedness, even where his daughter was concerned, maybe she was right about the rest.

That Diana could use it against him.

She swallowed a mouthful of dust. Despite what Dryden thought, Diana hadn’t been privy to the police investigation. She didn’t know the specifics of Nadine’s murder. But she had spent hours going over accounts of the crimes Dryden had committed himself. And a narcissist like him might find those intricacies more titillating than the work of another killer.

And maybe she could convince him to share facts she wanted to know. Like the whereabouts of Cerise Copeland.

Diana probably wouldn’t get out of the prison alive. But if she did, and she could help return the woman to her baby…

She had to try. “Louis, he… her clothes were there.”

“And?”

“And he cut them off?”

“Yes. He cut them off with a knife.”

Bobby

He dashed into the prison and checked through security. This time he didn’t even have a gun to lock into one of the gun safes provided for police officers. He’d had to surrender it to ballistics until the i’s could be dotted and t’s crossed in the investigation of Ingersoll’s death.

Not that he could have taken it into the prison anyway. The risk of an inmate taking it away from him was too great.

Either way, he’d have to face whatever situation he found unarmed.

When he and two guards reached the interview room, Seides stood in the doorway. He looked to Bobby, desperation in his eyes. “Detective, I didn’t know. I—”

Bobby breezed past him. The room was empty.

Acid slammed into his gut with the force of a hard fist. He scanned the smashed camera, the chair on the tabletop. The open air duct. His throat constricted. “Where does that duct lead?”

Seides stared at Bobby as if he suddenly didn’t speak English.

Another guard pushed past Seides. “It runs through the whole wing. But half of this wing is being remodeled. It’s sealed off from the rest of the building. We’ll have to go through the construction entrance to access it.”

Bobby crossed the floor to the table. “Then go. I’ll go this way. And remember, he has a hostage.”

Bobby bounded onto the table, trying not to think what Dryden might be doing to her or how frightened she must be. Using the chair as a step stool, he hoisted himself into the vent. The space was cramped and dark. The metal creaked under his weight. He slid along on his belly, his pulse thumping so hard in his ears, he was sure Dryden could hear it echoing through the ductwork.

Bobby crawled until the air duct split into a T. Holding his breath, he listened for something, anything that would tell him which direction Dryden had gone.

A low, male voice rumbled through the vent.

Bobby turned in the direction of the sound.

The voice grew louder, one moment threatening, the next hushed.

A faint light glowed ahead. A spot where the vent opened into another room.

Bobby slowed down his movement. Reaching the vent, he peered down through the open hole and into a murky room.

Diana lay on the floor below in her bra and jeans, her exposed skin white against dark gray concrete. Her arms were pinned behind her back, probably tied. Her own jeans seemed to be binding her ankles.

Bobby gripped the sharp edge of the vent. The metal bit into his fingers, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but getting his hands on Dryden and pounding the bastard’s head into the ground until he was dead.

Diana looked up. Her gaze met Bobby’s.

He nodded to her, trying to reassure her, trying to let her know everything would be okay.

That he would make it okay.

Her eyebrows lowered. Her lips curled inward. She stared at him, not with relief, but with anger. As if she was warning him away. As if she wanted Dryden with her, wanted what he was doing to her. As if Bobby was the problem.

What in the hell?

Dryden crouched over her, shoving his face close to hers. “Tell me more, sweetheart.”

Bobby’s head pounded. What was going on? Why had Diana looked at him like that? She couldn’t hate him for trying to save her. That would be stupid. More than stupid. If he didn’t save her from Dryden, she’d die.

“Daddy wants to know more.”

“Um....”

“Yes?”

“She was naked.”

“Of course, she was. You just said he cut off her clothing.”

“Yes, yes, of course. You could see… She had this cut down her middle.”

“Like here?” Dryden used the flat side of the knife to trace a line from Diana’s throat, down between her breasts, to the waistband of her jeans.

Bobby tensed. Dryden wasn’t yet under him. If he jumped, he’d land to the side of the killer. Dryden could still use that knife on Diana. He could kill her before Bobby had time to take him out.

He had to wait until Dryden moved under the vent.

“Yes.”

“But we’re getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?”

“Uh, I don’t know.”

“Then take it from Daddy. Yes, we are.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What did he do before he cut her?”

“Uh, he cut off her clothes.”

“Yes, we went through that.” Dryden slipped the knife blade under one of the shoulder straps of Diana’s bra. With a sharp pull upward, he sliced it clean. “Did he do it like this?”

“Um, I don’t know. I guess.” Diana’s voice trembled, as if she was barely holding it together.

“And maybe he did this?” Dryden sliced the other strap.

Bobby’s ears pounded. He had to jump. He couldn’t take the chance that Dryden’s frustration with Diana would grow. He couldn’t risk the son of a bitch cutting her.

“He let her loose. He hunted her.”

“Well that’s interesting. I’m glad you remembered. Was it somewhere she could scream and scream and never be heard by anyone but him?” His voice sounded almost giddy, as if he was reliving his own sick hunts, hearing the panicked screams, soaking in his victim’s fear.

“I… I don’t know.”

Dryden’s gaze snapped back to Diana’s face. He traced the knife blade along the line of her collarbone. “Was it in a forest? Did he hunt her naked in a forest?”

“I don’t know. How can I tell you where he hunted her if I don’t know?”

Dryden trailed the knife down over the curve of each breast, the side of the blade rasping over lace. “I know where.”

“Then you tell me.”

Bobby’s gut seized. He knew what she was doing. He knew why she’d looked at him the way she had, why she’d warned him off.

Damn.

She wanted to save the governor’s daughter-in-law.

He gripped the vent’s edge harder, letting the steel cut him, feeling the blood hot and sticky on his skin. All he’d ever wanted was to keep Diana safe. All he’d ever wanted was for her to be happy, for both of them to be happy.

He stared down at her, running his gaze over her golden hair, her high cheekbones, her soft, beautiful face. He loved her with all his heart, all his soul, all himself.

The question was, did he have the guts to trust her?

Diana

Diana held her breath, waiting for Dryden’s knife to slice into her flesh, waiting for Bobby to jump down from above, waiting for... something.

Nothing happened.

She scooped in a breath, dust tickling deep in her throat. “You tell me. Unless you didn’t decide that part. Unless you really don’t know.”

“In time.” He moved the blade up to the hollow between her collarbones. “You remind me of old times. All the things I wrote to the copycat. All the things I told him to do. I need you to tell me if he did them the way he was supposed to. If he did everything right.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good.” He licked his lips. “So he hunted her in the woods?”

“I think so.”

“Not good enough.”

“Did he wound her with the rifle?”

Diana had no idea, but at this point, it really didn’t matter. “Yes.”

“After he hunted her, after he wounded her with the rifle, did he drag her by the hair? Did he tie her down?”

Just the things Dryden had done to her tonight.

She shuddered involuntarily. “Yes.”

“Did he run a blade between her breasts?” He traced the path down Diana’s body with the flat side of his blade. “Did he cut down the middle of her belly? Did he slice her all the way down?”

White noise rang in her ears, drowning out the sound of Dryden’s blade rasping against the denim of her jeans. “Stop. Please.”

“Did he, sweetheart?”

She tried to answer. She tried to breathe. “Yes.”

“Are you afraid I’ll do that to you?”

Her mind roared. She had to push away the panic. She had to hold on. She had to get him to tell her where Louis had hunted.

Before Bobby jumped him.

Before Dryden decided to make the cutting real.

Even if it meant opening her own private horrors to him.

“Yes. I’m afraid…”

“Afraid of what?”

“That you’ll… That you’ll hunt me like the professor did.”

“The professor. What a loser. Sad. He could never be like me.”

“He brought me to the place you hunted those girls.”

“He was weak. No imagination.”

“But Louis, he hunted somewhere else.”

“So he did.” Dryden smiled, lips pulling back from straight, white teeth. “Your father is an amazing man, Diana. The greatest. Even from prison, I did whatever I wanted. Even from prison, I called the shots.”

“Where Louis hunted… I never knew. The police never knew.”

“Of course, they didn’t. They think small. They are small.”

“Louis must have come up with the perfect place. I think he might have been brilliant.”

“Smart enough to come to me for direction. Not brilliant.”

“I don’t know, he—”

Dryden tangled a fist in her hair and pulled her head back. “I told him who to take, where to hunt, how to kill. Your father is brilliant.”

Diana let out the whimper pressing in her throat.

Dryden’s smile grew wider. “There are islands in Lake Superior where no one lives.”

The mint of his breath wafted against her face, turning her stomach. She swallowed hard. She had to hold on. She had to know.

He released her hair, then, standing up, he circled her, the knife’s blade glinting in one fist. “I’d like to take you there, Diana.”

“Where?”

“Just Daddy and his favorite little girl. A lighthouse all our own. That’s where I’d hunt you. But first…”

He crouched on the other side of her and slipped the knife between the cups of her bra. Then he pulled the sharp edge upward, steel slicing through lace. He set the blade to the side and was about to spread the cups of her bra open when—

Dryden lurched forward. The knife skittered across the floor. And then Bobby was straddling his back. Gripping Dryden’s head in both hands, Bobby slammed the killer’s face against the concrete.

Once.

Twice.

Until Ed Dryden’s face was bloody and his body limp.

Bobby fastened Dryden’s hands behind his back, and then he was untying her, holding her, wrapping his suit coat around her shoulders.

“He could have killed you, Diana. My God, he could have killed you.” His tone was hard, balancing on the sharp edge of anger and fear.

She pressed her face into his shoulder. Tears misted her vision. “The Apostle Islands. Did you hear?”

“The islands with vacant lighthouses will be swarming with local sheriff’s deputies within the hour. We’ll find her. Thanks to you, we’ll find her.”

***

After being taken to the Lake Loyal police station, Diana fielded questions from police and prison officials far into the night. As the adrenaline faded, she became unbearably tired, and finally after what was hopefully the last interview, she leaned forward on the conference table and fell asleep.

She jolted awake at the sound of the door closing. And when she looked up, Bobby stood just inside the conference room. Diana scrambled out of her chair, raced around the table, and threw herself into his arms.

For a long time, they just held each other. The solid feel of him, the sound of his breath in her ear, the smell of his skin was all Diana needed.

“They found her, Diana.”

Diana pulled back and looked into his eyes. “She’s…”

“Okay. Scared but okay. She’s on her way home now.”

“Thank God.”

“And thank you. You did it, Diana. You saved that woman. She never would have been found in time without you. She would have died in that lighthouse. But…”

Diana frowned. “But?”

“If you ever do anything that crazy again…”

She let out a laugh. It had been crazy. She still couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it. But she’d done what she had to, made the choices she’d had to make.

What she couldn’t figure out was why he’d made the choices he had. “How about you?”

“Me?”

“You didn’t jump Dryden. You waited. Why?”

The hard line of his jaw softened. He raised a hand to her face, tracing her cheekbone with one finger. “You seemed to have things under control.”

Tears stung her eyes, turning Bobby into a blur of color. “How did you know? Even I didn’t know that for sure.”

“I didn’t know either. Not for sure.” He brushed a strand of hair back from her cheek. “But that’s what having faith in someone is about, isn’t it?”

Her throat ached. Warmth radiated from the center of her chest. She’d waited a long time for him to have faith in her. But she’d waited even longer to have faith in herself. And it was something she wanted to hold onto. A confidence she never wanted to slip away.

“How about Dryden?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, he’s going to be okay too.”

“I have to admit, I'd hoped you killed him.”

Bobby let out a heavy sigh. “Killing one serial killer today is probably enough.”

“Yesterday.”

He checked his watch. “The sun is going to be up soon. At least we don’t have to go back to those taskforce offices in Madison.”

“I do.”

Bobby’s eyebrows pinched together, as if he didn’t follow.

Diana took a deep breath. “Are you done… you know, working with Perreth?”

“Should be. I’m on administrative leave until the shooting investigation is over.” Bobby studied her.

“Good. Because I’m going to file a complaint.”

“You sure?” Bobby ran his hands down her arms. “It’s your decision.”

For the second time since he’d walked in the room, Diana’s eyes misted over. “Yeah. It is. And if he did the same thing to other women and I didn’t say anything, I just couldn’t live with that.”

Bobby raised a hand to her face and gently wiped away an escaped tear. “You don’t have to worry about needing me, Diana. You don’t. You can deal with life just fine on your own.”

Yes, she could. For the first time in her life, she knew it. “I might not need you anymore, Bobby, not like I used to. But I want you. I want to be with you. I want to share my life with you. You make me happy. And I want to be happy.”

A smile touched his lips. A smile that bubbled through her blood and made her want to dance.

“I love you, Diana. I always have.” He brought his mouth to hers, his kiss full of need and want and love. And when the kiss ended, she looked into his eyes and found a reflection of the strength she’d dreamed of. And she knew deep in her heart it was coming from her and no one could take it away.

“I love you, too, Bobby. And I always will.”

Curt Tillman

A month later…

Curt stood in the shadow of the park shelter and watched the wedding party assembled on the north shore of Lake Mendota.

A month had passed since he’d met his sister, since he’d read in the newspaper about how she and that cop had brought down the Copycat Killer and saved the governor’s daughter-in-law. A month since he’d learned about his father.

Dryden was scheduled to be transferred back to the Supermax or whatever the hell they called the place now. Fine with Curt. He didn’t want to think about the bastard. He sure as hell didn’t want to know him.

On the beach, the couple exchanged rings. Wind caught the bride’s veil, the white cloud streaming out behind her, making her look more ethereal than an angel. Her groom held her hand, the smile on his face inspiring an empty ache in Curt’s chest.

It had been years since he’d held a woman’s soft hand. Years since he’d felt the kind of joy that produced that kind of idiotic grin. He wasn’t interested in women. Not even when he’d first been paroled. What was the point? None of them were Melanie. And any other woman just made the ache inside him burrow in deeper.

He turned away from his sisters, the bride with her groom, the other twin clutching hands with a man obviously crazy for her, too. He’d never know them. He could only watch them from afar. Just as he watched Melanie in the mornings when she walked from the parking ramp to her office building.

Watch and remember all he’d thrown away.

Some people said violence ran in the blood. That it was passed through genes from one generation to the next. Maybe that was true. He wasn’t smart enough to know. His sisters hadn’t inherited it. Maybe it was only passed on from father to son. And if that was the case, the violence in his family would have to come to an end with him.

The son of Ed Dryden.