I Can See You

Chapter Nineteen

Wednesday, February 24, 7:20 p.m.

I do like your house.”

Noah closed the oven door and turned to lean against it. Eve sat at his kitchen table, her annoyance mostly gone. “And I liked your friend Tom.”

Her mouth lifted. “And the tickets to Sunday’s game?”

He grinned. “Those didn’t hurt.” He sobered. “So… you’re not angry anymore?”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t angry. Just surprised you brought me here.”

“I have to meet Jack soon, so I didn’t want to spend what little time we have waiting on waiters. Next time we’ll go somewhere with tablecloths and fancier food.”

“Frozen pizza is fine and better than a lot of meals I’ve eaten.”

She was nervous. So am I. He took the chair next to hers, took her hand. “I’m going to get to the point. You said you trusted me. Why? Is it something about me? My face?”

“I don’t know why. I just do. At the risk of sounding trite, this isn’t about you. It’s me.”

“So that you trust me for absolutely no good reason is what frightens you?”

Arousal warred with the apprehension in her dark eyes. “I behaved impetuously six years ago,” she said. “I have paid dearly for that mistake, every day since. I don’t do impetuous things very often anymore.”

“You play it safe. With men, anyway.”

“Essentially, yes.” She lifted her chin. “And I won’t apologize for that.”

He recognized the lifted chin as a warning and detoured, approaching from another direction. “You said you hid in the dark for two years after Rob Winters attacked you.”

She didn’t flinch as he’d expected. “I lived in a shelter for battered women. I rarely left the house, took most of the night shifts.”

“Because you were afraid to sleep.” Afraid she’d dream, that she’d hurt someone.

“Yes. I took care of the babies, ones too young to scare. My scars were bad then.”

“What happened after two years?” He knew, but wanted to hear it from her.

“We unknowingly brought a murderer into our shelter, a woman who’d kidnapped a child for her own revenge. But you know this. You’ve read all the news archives.”

He had, and had been chilled to the bone. “You saved the boy but were nearly killed.”

“Alec was a brave kid. He helped save us both.”

“Where is he now?”

She smiled. “Chicago. He’s a senior in high school. Well-adjusted and happy.”

“So what happened after you’d saved the day and the boy?”

“Dana and Ethan took the woman down, delivered her to the cops. Dana’s kind of like my mom and big sister and probation officer, all rolled into one. She is best friends with David’s sister-in-law, Caroline, and Olivia’s sister, Mia. That’s how we all connect.”

“You love them, the people you left behind in Chicago. They’ve earned your trust.”

Her eyes sharpened. “You should be the psych major.”

“Just trying to understand,” he said mildly. “You’ve been here in Minneapolis for two years, so where were you in the two middle years?”

“Hiding,” she said, one brow lifted. “I’m good at that.”

“I know you are. Where were you hiding?”

“Well, having a killer in our secret shelter kind of compromised our secrecy. Dana closed down, she and Ethan bought this big house, and now she’s foster mom central. I could have moved in with her, but I needed my space. So I got a job at what I thought then was the perfect place-a rehab center for people who were newly blind.”

Noah frowned. He hadn’t known this. “Because they couldn’t see you?”

“Pretty much. I liked it there. I could work on my degree at night and never needed to leave the grounds.”

This made him angry. “For two years? Why did you leave there?”

“I got a kick in the ass from one of our clients. He’d lost his sight in an accident-hard enough, but he was a surgeon. His career, in his mind, was over.”

“Was it?”

“Of course not. He couldn’t do surgery, but he could other things. Over time, and with a lot of nagging, he began to accept that. He restarted his life, reinvented himself.”

“You saved him.”

She shook her head, embarrassed. “No. I was just his friend.”

“I can see that.” For all she’d endured, Eve was a nurturing soul with a full heart. That was the quality that had first attracted him. “You take care of people. That’s a gift.”

He’d surprised her, he could see. “Thank you.”

“So your friend left this rehab center?” he asked and she nodded.

“He’s teaching now. But before he left, he did a little confronting of his own, with me. Told me I’d been hiding in the dark. Gave me hell. And even though Dana and all my other friends and family had told me the same thing, it meant more coming from him.”

“He’d earned your trust, too.”

“Yeah. He did.”

“So, coming full circle, you trust me even though I’ve done nothing to earn it. Let me ask you something.” He leaned closer. “What are you afraid I’ll do to you?”

Her cheeks darkened, causing her scar to appear under the makeup she so carefully applied. He could tell her the old scar had never bothered him, even before her surgery, but he knew she’d never believe him. Not yet.

“Eve?” he prompted when she said nothing. “Are you worried you’ll lose control with me?” Her eyes flashed and he knew he’d scored a hit. He didn’t stop, because he knew if he had a prayer of reaching her, it would have to be now. Once she got away from him, she wasn’t likely to come back soon. “Are you afraid I’ll make you feel something? That after six years of watching from the sidelines you’ll finally feel something?”

“No,” she snapped. But she didn’t move an inch.

“Then what are you afraid of?”

“That I’ll get dependent on feeling something,” she snarled. Abruptly she stood, shoving her chair. “It’s better to choose to have no one than to get dependent on someone, only to lose him. That ‘better to have loved and lost’ shit? It’s shit. I can’t go through that. I won’t.”

He leaned back, his heart pounding as he watched her. “Do you want me, Eve?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “I did the first time you walked up to the bar. You looked me in the eye and if you knew how rare that was, you’d know what it meant.”

“And I didn’t make a move for a year,” he murmured. “You thought I didn’t want you.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. Knowing you were interested has been a major ego boost, but it doesn’t change anything.” She turned away, pretending to check the pizza in the oven, but her hands were shaking. “It doesn’t make sense to go forward if we want different things. You had a wife before. I assume you want a wife again. A family.”

“We covered this,” he said patiently. “I told you it didn’t matter that you can’t have kids. I told you I’d hide the knives if you walked in your sleep. I’m a really light sleeper,” he said teasingly, then sobered. “None of that matters, Eve.”

“I don’t believe you. You think it doesn’t matter, but one day you’d start wondering what it would be like to be a dad.”

“I know what it’s like to be a dad,” he said, more sharply than he’d intended. “I had a son. He would have been fourteen last November.”

She went still. “He died in the accident, too?”

“Yes. And losing him and my wife was the hardest thing I hope I ever go through. You’re right. ‘Loved and lost’ is shit, but I have no regrets that they were part of my life.” He drew a steadying breath. “I don’t need more children. If I had a baby, I’d love him, but I’ve done that. I don’t need to do it again.”

“And I still don’t believe you.” She touched his sleeve, her fingers trembling. “But I know you believe it.” She pursed her lips, fighting for composure. “I’m not very hungry. Would you mind taking me to get David’s truck now?”

He’d promised himself he’d let her go if that’s what she wanted. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll have a cruiser watch your house tonight, wherever you stay.” He got an oven mitt and pulled the pizza from the oven, then stared down at it. “You asked me this morning why I wanted you. I told you I’d tell you over dinner. Can I at least still do that?”

“Sure.” It was the smallest whisper.

“It was right before Christmas, a year ago. Somebody was retiring and they had his party at Sal’s. It was the first time I saw you.”

“I remember.”

“You were behind the bar. I remember thinking how pretty you were. My last relationship had fizzled a natural death, and I hadn’t met anyone else I liked enough to move my schedule for. I thought maybe I’d say hello to you, ask you out. Then the door opened and this woman came in. Had the look of a lifetime drunk. She was dirty and she stank of sour whiskey. Do you remember her?”

“Yes, I do. A couple of the cops tried to throw her out.”

“But you wouldn’t let them. You sat her down, gave her some coffee, and listened while she told you her story. You even cried when she did.”

“Her son had died. Christmas is a hard time for people who’ve lost someone.”

“I know. I thought you’d let her finish her story and maybe hail her a cab. But you kept her talking, asking her questions until you had enough information to call her surviving son. He came to get her, so embarrassed, but grateful that you’d cared enough not to push her out onto the street into the snow.”

“Who would have done that?”

He turned to look at her. “The dozens of bartenders over the years who did that to my mother. I’d get phone calls- ‘Noah, your mom’s wandering down the street without a coat.’ I’d rush to get her, and find some bartender had thrown her out. Called her a bum. I guess she was, but she was still my mom. You were kind to that woman when you didn’t have to be.”

“I did what anybody should do.”

“But few do. I came back to Sal’s with Jack the next week, and the week after that. Ordered my tonic water and watched you. As time passed, I watched you be kind to more people than I can count. You asked me why I came in and ordered my water all those nights. It was because I couldn’t stay away. Now I’m kicking myself for waiting so long.” She said nothing and he knew he had to let it go. For now anyway. “Come on, I’ll get your coat and take you wherever you want to go.”

He moved toward the door, but she stayed where she stood, uncertainty playing across her face, and his heart lifted in hope. “Are we going or staying?” he asked.

“You’ve put me on a pedestal I couldn’t possibly live up to. If I stayed, if I tried… you’d be disappointed.”

He came back, taking her shoulders in his hands. “Maybe. But then maybe you’ll be disappointed with me. But how can you know if you don’t try?” He kissed her hard, relieved when she lifted on her toes, kissing him back. He broke it off, his breathing unsteady. “Aren’t you tired of watching other people’s lives go by? I know I am.”

Her pulse was knocking at the hollow of her throat. “Promise me something.”

“If I can.”

“If you are disappointed, walk away. Don’t stay because I’ll crumble if you leave.”

He let his forehead rest against hers, his hands trembling as they kneaded her shoulders. “You worry too much, Eve.”

“I know,” she said. “But then so do you. Can we consider that common ground?”

He cupped his hands around her face. “I think we can find better common ground than that.” But he hesitated, unsure of where he could touch her. “What can I do?”

Her jaws clenched against his palms. “I don’t know.”

Noah felt his spine go rigid. “There hasn’t been anyone since…?”

She shrugged. “One. Didn’t go so well.”

He made his mouth curve. “So, no pressure here. I have an idea. You trust me?”

Her dark eyes had shadowed, fear crowding away all that beautiful arousal. But despite her fear, she nodded. “Yes. I trust you.”

“Then get your coat and come with me.”

Wednesday, February 24, 7:45 p.m.

One would think people would be more careful about locking their doors. Especially when they’d just told the police they were the last people to see a woman just before her murder. But the Bolyards hadn’t been careful. And now they were dead.

By killing this couple before they could talk to the police, he’d shown his hand. They’d wonder how the killer had known about the Bolyards. They’d look internally, thinking they had a leak. They wouldn’t suspect each other, because that’s not how cops were wired. But it didn’t matter. He’d managed any potential fallout, cut off any search in his direction before it started with a single, well-placed phone call. Because I think. They just react.

Now the only other threat to his plan, to his identity, was Eve Wilson. She was smart, and careful. It was time to rattle her cage harder.

Wednesday, February 24, 7:45 p.m.

Eve found herself laughing when Noah had led her into his garage, dominated by a rather decrepit Dodge Charger. She’d picked her way through the parts and now sat in the backseat, watching as Noah struggled to climb in next to her.

He huffed, his breath hanging in the cold air. “See, I told you it would be fun.”

“You’re going to need a chiropractor,” she said.

He wedged his big body next to her. “Are you saying I’m old?”

“No, just big.”

He lifted his brows, his grin wicked. “How would you know that?”

She shook her head, trying unsuccessfully to hide her smile. “You’re bad and it’s cold. And this car definitely has seen better days. It’s not going anywhere.”

“We’re not going to drive it.” He put his arm around her, his gloved hand patting her shoulder through her heavy coat. “We’re going to park in it.”

She looked up at him. “You’re insane.”

His grin softened to something so very sweet her heart turned over. “And you’re smiling. That’s worth a trip to the chiropractor.”

Touched, she looked away. “Is this your car?”

“It is.” He swatted at the vinyl roof that was sagging into the interior. “I got it a couple of years ago, but I don’t have much time to work on it.”

“Why this car? It looks worse than my hunk of junk.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. This is a muscle car.”

“Its muscles are atrophied,” she said wryly.

He chuckled. “I drove one just like this one when I was a kid.” He gave her an arched look. “I got some major action in the backseat of that car.”

Her breath caught at the implicit promise. “I don’t think you’ll get much action tonight unless we want to explain frostbite in embarrassing places to the doctors in the ER.”

“Didn’t you ever park when you were a teenager, oh so many years ago?” he asked silkily and despite her winter layers and the heat from his body, she shivered.

“No. None of the boys I knew had cars unless they’d been stolen.” She rested her head on his shoulder, comfortable and grateful and anticipating, all at the same time. “So how does it work, this parking thing?”

“It’s pretty straightforward. I try to go as far as I can and you stop me. Of course the whole frostbite thing is an issue, so mostly we just neck. Like this.” And he kissed her until her bones felt fluid and her skin became way too hot under the layers of clothing she wore. Her pulse throbbed deep, just as it had every time he’d kissed her.

She tugged off one glove so that she could touch his face, learning every texture, shuddering when he turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm. He returned to her mouth, layering pleasure on sensation without demanding anything back and suddenly she wished he would. His gloved hands were safely anchored, one on her shoulder, the other cradling the back of her head.

She pulled back, just far enough to see his eyes. They glittered in the darkness and the leashed desire she saw there stole her breath. “What do we do next?”

“Nothing you don’t want to do.”

It was her game then, her rules. It was terrifying even as it exhilarated. “Then try something and let me see if I want to stop you.”

For a moment he remained still, then shifted to the middle of the seat, pulling her across his lap so that she straddled him. He looked up as she looked down and his hands stroked down her back, over her butt, resting on her thighs. His fingers teased, low enough not to panic, but high enough to make her heart race.

“Your sofa’s a mess,” he whispered, “but your chair gave me a number of fantasies.”

And that fast she could see them, imagining how his bare skin would feel against hers. She covered his mouth with hers and pressed her hips into him, her body jolting with the initial shock of discovery. He’d said he wanted her. He wasn’t lying.

Her eyes flew open. His face was hard. Hungry. His body was hard and full and his hips lifted in a rhythm that made her chase his movements, trying to prolong the contact. “You’re teasing me,” she whispered against his lips.

His laugh was soft, yet strained. “Is it working?”

“Yes.”

His hands clutched at her thighs, pulling her down and grinding himself against her, dragging a muted moan from her throat. It felt good, so good, and she wanted more. Needed more. With shaky hands she tugged at the zipper on her coat. His hands left her hips, working the zipper on the fleece she wore beneath. He yanked his gloves off, his eyes never leaving hers as his warm palms slid up under the sweater she wore to claim her breasts, the thin cotton of her bra the only thing between them.

“Yes?” he asked gruffly.

“Yes,” she whispered, wishing he’d push the cotton aside, moaning when he did.

His thumbs teased her nipples and every muscle clenched harder as she lowered herself against the sharp ridge of his body. The sounds he made were harsh and full of want, and need. She took his mouth again and did some grinding of her own.

Abruptly he stopped, forcing his hands to go lax. A moment later his hips dropped back and she felt cold. They’d fogged up the car windows. His eyes were closed and his jaw tight. He was holding on to control by a thread and the knowledge thrilled.

“Why did you stop?” she asked huskily when he put her clothing to rights.

“Because I still could. In another minute I’d have tried something more.”

“Maybe I would have wanted you to.”

He swallowed hard. “We would have been in frostbite territory,” he said quietly.

Her hand trembling, she pushed his dark hair from his damp brow. “Did you ever… you know… in the backseat?”

His unsteady grin flashed. “This time of year? No.” Briefly he patted her bottom, the pat becoming a caress that made her hum with pleasure. Then his cell phone vibrated in his pants pocket, startling them both. “It’s probably Jack.”

Eve scrambled off his lap and he dug for his phone. He listened for a minute, then flashed a quick look at Eve. “No, she’s here with me. What’s the address?” He jotted it down, his expression now grim. “I’ll call Jack and meet you there. That was Olivia,” he said, hanging up and dialing again, waiting for Jack to answer. “She found Harvey Farmer, Sr. Come on, Jack, pick up.”

“That was fast,” Eve said.

“Not fast enough. He’s dead. Jack, dammit, call me.” He punched more numbers, climbing out of the car. Tersely he repeated the message to call him and dialed again as he held the garage door open for her.

“Bruce,” he said, letting them into his house. “It’s Noah. Did Olivia call you?… Good. She called me, too, but when I called Jack, I didn’t get an answer again. At his home or cell. I’m on my way to Farmer’s, but you said to call if I couldn’t reach Jack again.” He hung up, grabbed Eve’s computer bag, and kept walking. “Let’s go.”

“Did Olivia find the son, Dell?” she asked as she buckled her seat belt.

“No. That’s why you’re still with me.”

“How did she find the father?”

“The LUDs from Kurt Buckland’s phone showed a phone call from that address. It’s a house rented in Harvey Sr.’s name.”

He’d clicked fully into detective mode. “How did the father die?”

“Shot in the chest. With every window in the house open.”

She felt cold herself. “He can’t be the same guy, Noah. The man killing these women is patient and meticulous. Dell Farmer was unstable.”

He opened her car door. “I know. I agree and so does Carleton Pierce.”

“Pierce came to see me again tonight, in the hospital. He told me you were going to go public on the Shadowland connection, to warn potential victims.”

“I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I just hope it saves the next woman.”

Wednesday, February 24, 8:25 p.m.

“Stay here by the door and don’t touch anything,” Noah said to Eve.

“Okay,” was all Eve said, her eyes fixed on Harvey Farmer’s dead body.

“Don’t look,” he said, thinking he should have left her somewhere else, but knowing he wouldn’t be able to think straight if he was worried about her.

“Too late,” she said and waved him away. “Go. I’m fine.”

No, she wasn’t, but he had to do his job. “Olivia, what do we have?”

Olivia crouched beside the body. “One slug to the chest, large caliber. Body’s still warm. Looks like he took a punch to the face. I’ve called CSU and the ME.”

“The blue Subaru parked outside? I’ve seen it before. It was trailing me and Jack on Monday when we left the coffee shop with Eve. It’s the son’s.”

“Wait,” Eve said from where she stood, exactly where he’d asked her to stay. “Dell Farmer was there, in the coffee shop. How did he get to that blue Subaru so fast? The barista said Dell and Jeremy Lyons talked for a minute before he left. That’s when Lyons offered to give him Callie’s cell phone number. You and I and Jack were a block away by then and so was the blue Subaru.”

He and Olivia shared an impressed look. “Girl thinks on her feet,” Olivia murmured.

“She does,” Noah said. “Dell’s car is the black SUV that he used to run David off the road. The Subaru must belong to the father.”

“I didn’t know about the Subaru before,” Olivia said. “I’ve got uniforms canvassing the neighborhood for anyone who saw a black SUV. Dell isn’t in the Minnesota DMV database, so he’s probably registered-”

“Noah.” Eve stood in front of a bookshelf, her expression stricken.

He was next to her in an instant, looking over her shoulder. “What?”

“That.” She pointed to a framed photo, not touching it. “That’s V, the son that died. Look at the woman with him.” She looked over her shoulder, eyes dark with dread. “It’s Katie, from the bar. Jack’s Katie. Noah, this isn’t just about you. It’s about Jack, too.”

“Where is Jack?” Olivia asked tightly.

“Not answering his phone,” Noah said, his heart starting to race. “I have to-”

“Just go,” Olivia interrupted. “I’ll call it in, have backup meet you there.”

Wednesday, February 24, 8:30 p.m.

Eve had actually given him the idea, which was delicious in its irony. He sat in his car, watching his laptop screen as the video played. It was an interview, downloaded from the archive of a TV station in Asheville, North Carolina.

It was slightly more than six years old. It would do very nicely.

“And then what did you do?” the reporter was asking, mild revulsion on his face.

The camera switched to the handsome face of one of the more brutal serial killers he’d studied. “I killed her,” Rob Winters said with a smirk. “I overpowered her, threw her on the bed, and said, ‘Didn’t your parents teach you not to get into cars with strange men?’ Then I wound a string of twine around her neck and pulled, really hard. She fought, so I stabbed her. Six times I think.”

“Eight,” the reporter corrected, slightly paling. “Eight times in the abdomen.”

“You must be right,” Winters said with another smirk. “You reporters do your homework after all. I stabbed her, eight times. She tried to claw at me.” He smiled, remembering. “Feisty little thing she was. So I slashed her hand, then her face.”

“Why her face?” the reporter murmured. “I mean, you’d already all but killed her.”

“Because.” Winters shrugged. “Because she thought she was pretty. Because I wanted to. Because I could. She stopped fighting, so I pulled the twine again. I really thought I’d killed her. But that’s okay. I’m in here, but she’s out there, scarred for life.” He sobered, his black eyes going cold. “So neither of us are free. I can live with that.”

“I see. Well, then let’s move on. What happened next?”

What happened next was Winters chronicling a chilling description of brutality, an uncontrolled killing spree that ended in his own capture. And two weeks after the interview was completed, Winters had been stabbed in the prison shower.

Because he lost control. Shame, that. Such… evil was intriguing on its face. Fascinating to study in depth. I would have liked the opportunity to talk to him myself.

But even though Winters was gone, his legacy remained. Eve Wilson was still afraid. You could see it in her eyes if you knew how to look. And I do.

He took from his pocket the same cell phone he’d used to text her that morning, then rewound the video to the exact frame he’d sought. He dialed Eve, then frowned. She wasn’t answering. He would have loved to have heard her gasp when he played the little snippet from her past. No matter, he’d see that fear in her eyes soon enough.

When the tone beeped for her voicemail, he hit the video play button, then held the cell to his laptop speaker. When he was finished, he disconnected with a smile.

Then he started to drive, flipping his police scanner on. He wanted to know when Webster discovered the Bolyards. When Eve retrieved his little message she’d be rattled, but it was Noah Webster who’d be terrified, especially after that attempt on her life earlier today. Webster wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

Which would be bad, except that he knew where Webster would be soon. Go see the Bolyards. Find out what they know. Like a good soldier, Webster would follow those orders. Where Webster would be, so would Eve.

I’ll be ready.

Wednesday, February 24, 8:45 p.m.

“Oh my God.” Noah ran from the curb to Jack’s house, pulling Eve by the hand, then he stopped, his stomach dropping to his feet. ME techs were going into Jack’s house, a folded body bag on their gurney.

Abbott met them at the door, looking grim. “Jack’s not dead,” he said.

Noah’s breath shuddered out as he pointed to the ME gurney. “Then who?”

“Katie. She was shot in the head with a gun from Jack’s collection.”

“He didn’t do this,” Noah started intensely, but Abbott held up his hand.

“Jack’s on his way to the hospital. He’s in bad shape.”

Noah felt his legs tremble and resolutely locked his knees. “What happened?”

“We found an empty bottle next to his bed, but the paramedics thought he’d taken some pills, too. We couldn’t find any.”

Noah wanted to say Jack wouldn’t have done that, but he wasn’t sure that was true.

“Jack was the one who chased V Farmer into the highway,” Eve said quietly. “This is part of Dell’s payback.”

“You know Jack didn’t kill Katie,” Noah added and Abbott nodded.

“But we’re following procedure. No accusations of cover-up. Noah, you can’t go in.”

Noah closed his eyes, knowing Abbott was right. “Tell me what you saw.”

“Katie was lying in the bed, shot in the head.” Abbott hesitated. “She’d been beaten up. Jack was lying next to her, passed out, his gun on the nightstand, with the bottle. If we’d discovered this tomorrow morning, Jack would have been dead. It was a good thing you called me when he didn’t answer. And, Eve, nice work. Olivia told me that you made the connection from the news archives. And seeing Katie in that picture with V Farmer will be important to clearing Jack.”

Eve’s nod was calm, as was the hand she rested on Noah’s back. “Are you assuming Dell killed his father?” she asked.

“Yes,” Abbott said. “Why?”

“Because I’m wondering why he did it. And who else is on his list.”

“It’s fair to say you are,” Noah told her, trying to stow his worry.

“And you,” she replied. “Where did they take Jack?”

“County,” Abbott replied, “but they won’t let anyone see him. I’ve called his father and I’m about to meet him at the hospital.”

“I need to talk to him,” Noah said. “He thought I was asking for a new partner today. He took Rachel Ward’s death hard. I want him to know he’s got my support.”

“And you’ll be able to tell him that, after he’s stabilized,” Abbott said. “For now, the best thing you can do is your job.”

“You’re right. We were going to check on that couple who phoned in the Martha tip. The Bolyards. I still have time to do that. Eve can stay with me while I talk to them.”

“No problem,” she said. “I have my laptop. I can keep busy wherever.”

Abbott walked with them, waiting until Eve was in Noah’s car and her door shut before motioning Noah a few feet away. “If Jack survives, he won’t be on his feet for a while. You’re going to need a new partner to see you through this investigation.”

Noah didn’t want to consider either option, but knew Abbott was right. “Who?”

“I don’t know yet. If this had been next year, I’d say Olivia, because Kane’s up for retirement soon. I’ll make some calls and let you know as soon as I do.” He looked over Noah’s shoulder to where Eve waited in the car. “She needs to go to a safe house.”

Noah thought of all the years she’d hidden in that shelter. “I don’t think she’ll go.”

“Convince her,” Abbott said tersely. “I can’t have you carting her around with you. If you can’t find a safe place outside, we’ll find a safe house and keep her inside.”

Noah nodded, once more knowing Abbott was right. “Anything else?”

“Just focus on your own case. Five women dead.”

“I haven’t forgotten them, Bruce,” Noah said levelly, then was saved anything further when a sleek Mercedes drove up.

Carleton Pierce got out, his face tight with concern. “What’s going on?”

Abbott’s brows bunched. “What are you doing here, Carleton?”

“I have business with Jack.”

“What kind of business? Why did he call you?” Abbott pressed, but Carleton’s eyes were fixed on the gurney being pushed out Jack’s front door, the body bag zipped.

“Oh my God. Did Jack…?”

“Why did he call you, Carleton?” Abbott asked again.

Carleton’s eyes never left the body bag on the gurney. “I can’t tell you that.”

“That’s not Jack,” Noah said and Carleton’s startled gaze swung to meet his.

“Then who is it?”

“Jack’s girlfriend,” Abbott said. “Why did Jack call you? I need to know.”

Carleton’s shoulders had sagged in relief, but now they were straight again. “Bruce, don’t ask me. I can’t tell you. Where is Jack?”

“Probably in the emergency room by now,” Abbott said darkly. Carleton’s eyes grew wide again. “Why?”

Abbott’s jaw was tight. “He may have mixed alcohol and downers.”

Carleton let out a quiet breath. “Dammit. What’s Jack’s prognosis?”

“Not good.” Abbott watched as the MEs loaded Katie’s body into the rig. “But better than hers at the moment. I don’t mean to be rude, Carleton, but we have work to do.”

“Fine. If Jack survives, tell him I stopped by, won’t you? I’ll see you both tomorrow at morning meeting.” He drove away without another word.

“Unhappy shrink,” Noah noted.

“Not my job to keep him happy,” Abbott snapped.

“He’s not allowed to divulge patient information, Bruce. You know that. That he was here means Jack was more affected than either of us thought.”

“I know,” Abbott said grimly. “And that’s not good for Jack.”

“When Jack wakes up, tell him I don’t believe he did this, okay?”

Abbott’s angry expression sagged. “Sure. Now go and do your job. Keep me posted. And follow my orders on the safe house for Eve.”

“Your uncle seemed nice,” Liza offered quietly. They’d left the hospital when visiting hours were over and were in Tom’s car, headed downtown. “I’m glad he’ll be okay.”

Tom’s jaw was hard. “I can’t believe somebody tried to kill him. Or Eve.”

“You’re lucky to have a family,” she said and watched his shoulders sag.

“Don’t give up hope. Lindsay may still be out there. How’s your mom?”

“She’s okay. I still haven’t told her. She’s pretty fragile right now.” Liza felt terrible lying to him, but if he knew her mom was dead, he’d force her to live somewhere else. For now, she needed the freedom to move and search. “If you need to be with your family, it’s okay. I can look for this Jonesy guy myself.” Olivia had never called with information on the one person that prostitute said might have seen Lindsay.

“I’ll go with. I’m worried about Eve. I don’t want to be worrying about you, too.”

Wednesday, February 24, 9:25 p.m.

“You were remarkably calm,” Noah commented as they drove away from Jack’s.

“Not really,” she said honestly. “But I didn’t think I was helping you by falling apart. Why was Pierce here and what did Abbott say to make you so upset?”

“Carleton said he had a meeting with Jack tonight.”

“Meeting meaning appointment. Not good for refuting Jack’s attempt at suicide.”

“Exactly. Neither of us is terribly thrilled at the moment.”

“And? Noah, I want to know what Abbott said. I know he was talking about me.”

He glanced over at her. “What makes you say that?”

“Because he looked me square in the eye while he was talking to you.”

Noah sighed. “He wants you to go to a safe house.”

Eve smiled mildly even though her insides churned at the thought. “No,” she said, then moved on before he could argue. “How about you? Are you all right?”

He said nothing for a moment. “No. I haven’t had the best relationship with Jack.”

“I could tell. Sal told me that Jack went through partners pretty quickly.”

“The last few years, that’s been true,” he said, guilt in his voice.

“Noah, even if Katie was a plant, Jack allowed her into his home. His bed. He let down his guard with a woman he barely knew.”

Noah aimed a long look at her, before turning back to the road. “I meant to tell you. Amy Millhouse was the first victim. Her brother altered the scene, which was why we missed it. He said she sold real estate, but mostly hung out in the casino. High roller.”

“The dancer friend of Rachel’s said he picked her up in the casino, so we know he’s been hunting there. It makes sense that he’d go there for Amy. He went to where the heavy users were. I have one other red-zone case that never leaves the casino. She was there last night, all night, just like normal. But she could be at risk.”

“Natalie,” he remembered. “She plays at the table with the avatar who cheats.”

“Dasich,” she said darkly. “I need to check on Natalie. She should be there now.”

“You can access the game from here? Right now?”

She drew her laptop from her bag. “I’ve got a wireless card, so I’m good anywhere.”

“After you check on Natalie, see if Amy Millhouse has a black wreath on her door.”

“Will do.” Eve navigated Greer first to the casino, where Natalie’s avatar sat in her usual place. Unfortunately for Natalie, Dasich was there, too, and had the lion’s share of chips. “Natalie’s losing, but she’s safe. I’ll go to Amy’s now.”

She sent Greer on to Amy’s house and frowned. “Yes, there’s a black wreath on Amy’s door. There wasn’t one this morning.” She turned to Noah, troubled. “He put the wreaths on Christy’s and Rachel’s doors as soon as he killed them, but waited on Martha and Samantha until you realized they were there. Amy didn’t have a wreath this morning. How did he know you knew? None of the press picked up on that yet.”

“How did he find out about any of them?” he asked irritably.

“He found out that you knew about Martha, Christy, and Samantha through Dell’s article. I heard a report on the radio this morning about Rachel’s murder when I was driving in to work. But how did he know about Amy?”

“Jack and I went to see Amy Millhouse’s mother today and Jack escorted her brother from the airport to the police station. I suppose he could have been watching us.”

“Like Dell Farmer did,” she said, “except he’s all wrong for this.” The car pulled to the curb and slowed to a stop. “Why are you stopping here?”

“This is the Bolyards’ home. They may have been the last people to see Martha Brisbane alive, other than her killer. Come on, you can’t stay out here alone.”

“I have my headphones,” she said. “I can always put them on if you need privacy.”

“I may ask you to.” He put on his hat and for a minute she let herself stare. “What?”

“I like the hat,” she said, her voice husky. “I always have.”

He looked at her for a long moment, most of his face cast into shadow by his hat brim, but she could feel the heat of his gaze. “Let’s get this done. I’d like to spend some time with you tonight.” With that he came around to her side, opened her car door, and pulled her to her feet. Barely feeling the cold, she followed him up the Bolyards’ driveway, staying back a few steps when he rang the bell.

There was no answer, so he knocked on the door, hard.

“Maybe they went out?” Eve asked tentatively and he frowned.

“Maybe. But they were expecting us. The wife wanted to meet Jack,” he added bitterly. Eve ran her hand down his back, wishing she could comfort him. He straightened his shoulders. “I’m okay. I need to do this.”

“This” was his job, she knew. Finding, stopping a killer so that he could somehow balance the scales for his partner. He walked back to the driveway and peered into the windows cut high in the garage door.

“Come on,” he said, his voice now hard, and her stomach clenched.

“What?” she said, following him around the back of the house, through the snow.

“Both of their cars are parked inside the garage. They’re home.” They got to the back of the house and he held up his hand, palm out. “Stay here.”

She nodded, forcing herself to breathe as, gun drawn, he approached the kitchen door and exhaled a weary curse. She took a few steps forward and could see through the window. “Oh God,” she murmured.

Two people lay slumped over the kitchen table. There was a lot of blood. Noah pulled on the door and it opened. Eve didn’t move another step as he went into the house, checked for a pulse. Then he backed out, touching nothing else.

“They’re dead,” he said flatly. “Come on.”

Once again she followed him, this time back to the car where he grabbed the radio and called for backup. And CSU. And the ME.

Wearily he propped his elbows on the wheel and pressed his thumbs to his temples.

Eve ran her hand down his arm. “Who knew they’d seen Martha Brisbane?”

“My team, the person who took their call, and anyone else the couple might have told. They were so set on meeting Jack because of that damn article.” His mouth twisted. “Who knows who else they bragged to?”

“But that would only matter if the person they bragged to had something to hide.”

He looked at her, intense. “So either they knew the killer and didn’t know it…”

The dread in her gut matched that in his eyes. “Or you do,” she said.