I Can See You

Chapter Twenty-five

Thursday, February 25, 3:15 p.m.

Do you have any idea where you’re going?” Brock asked.

They were speeding toward New Germany and all Noah had been able to think was that Eve could be there. Hurt or… Don’t go there. You can’t go there.

He looked over at Brock. “The kennel was called Green Gables.”

“I know it. They train hunting dogs. It’s a damn big kennel, Noah. Acres of land.”

“Olivia said a woman dropped off the cat driving Ann Pierce’s BMW. Assuming it was Ann Pierce, how would she pick that kennel, just out of the air? She must have passed it at some point.”

“Or she’s a hunter,” Brock said. “But let’s go with your line of thought. This road continues for miles. The houses are usually at the end of long driveways. Did you find any property out here owned by this Pierce guy?”

“No. The only house in his name is the one he lives in.”

“There’s the kennel up on the right,” Brock said.

Noah checked the driveway, then passed the kennel without slowing down when he saw Olivia’s car parked in front.

Brock turned to look behind them. “Looks like your friend beat you here.”

“I know. I don’t want to get Olivia in trouble.”

“You can’t do this on your own, Noah. This area is too remote. You need an aerial view to know where all the houses are. You’ll need search crews and dogs.”

“I know,” Noah said, then focused on the vehicle stopping ahead. “Or… a postman.”

The postman had pulled his truck to the side and was stuffing letters into a mailbox. He looked up in surprise when Noah got out, showing his badge. “I’m trying to locate one of your residents. We think he may be able to help us with an investigation.”

“I’ve seen your face before. I delivered a lot of MSPs out here.”

“I’m Detective Webster,” Noah said. “I’m looking for a man named Pierce.”

The old postman shook his head. “I don’t know that name. Sorry, can’t help you.” He started to move, but Noah put out his hand, desperation rising to close his throat.

“Wait, please. If you know who I am, you know what’s been happening this week.”

The postman nodded. “I read the paper, but I don’t know that Pierce name.”

“Okay.” Noah’s mind was racing. If Pierce had mail in Irene Black’s name sent out here, it meant he came out here. His wife knew about the kennel, so she’d been out here, too. It was a long shot, but he had to try. “What about deliveries? You say you delivered MSP magazine out here. What about other magazines?”

The postman frowned severely. “I can’t tell you that.”

Noah closed his eyes briefly, fighting for control. “This man has killed six women, maybe more. He’s abducted two more women that might still be alive. If you can help me, I won’t tell a soul how I got the information. I promise. Please. Please, help me.”

The postman looked away for a long moment, then back. “What kind of magazines?”

“Psychology, computer magazines, game magazines.” Noah concentrated. The wife was a biologist. “Animal magazines. Dogs, cats. Snakes.”

The postman shook his head. “I haven’t seen anything like that. A lot of our folks have their magazines sent to post office boxes, too.”

Which Pierce would have done. Dammit. Noah started to turn away, then stopped. He’d come too far. There had to be something… “What kinds of deliveries would have to be delivered to an actual address, not a post office box?”

“Packages. Those PO boxes don’t hold that much.”

Packages. Noah blew out a breath, watched it hang in the air… just as it had as he’d stood looking up at Martha Brisbane Sunday night. He pictured her as she’d hung there in her low-cut red dress, her stiletto-heeled shoes on the floor beneath her feet.

Her dress, her shoes… they’d been identical to all the others. Same style, just different sizes. Ordered from a online shopping club, Micki had said days ago.

“What about packages from The Fashion Club? It would have been a few weeks ago. It had dresses and shoes.”

The postman went still. “High-heeled shoes? Red?”

Noah nodded, trying to keep calm. “Yes.”

“I left the box on the front porch. A few days later I delivered another box. The first one was still there, its bottom frozen to the porch. The box was wet from the snow and it fell apart. It was filled with shoe boxes. The same red, pencil-heeled shoes. I assumed it was for some play or dance troupe, you know, where they all had to dress alike.”

Noah’s heart was pounding in his ears. “Where did you deliver the boxes?”

“About two miles up the road. I’ll draw you a map.”

Two minutes later Noah was in his car, slamming the door as he punched the gas.

“You found it then?” Brock asked.

“I hope so.” He hit redial on his cell phone, getting Olivia on the first ring.

“You…” she fumed. “You lied to me. You said you’d stay back at the station.”

“I found him,” Noah said, ignoring her very justified tirade. He gave her the address as the road the postman had indicated came into view. “I’m going in. Back me up.”

“Noa-”

Noah closed his phone and handed it to Brock. “If she calls back, you answer it.”

Brock was giving him a wary look. “You’re gonna get your ass fired for this.”

“Not if I win.” He thought of Eve and Liza and every woman Pierce had left hanging from her bedroom ceiling. Of Virginia’s hollow eye sockets. “If I lose, I won’t care.”

Thursday, February 25, 3:15 p.m.

Don’t be afraid. Don’t flinch. Even if it hurts. She smelled the metal of the blade, heard it scrape her skin. Down the scar on her cheek, she realized. The cheek that had had no feeling for almost six years. She smelled her own blood. Knew he’d cut her.

Panic welled up and she fought it back. How deep had he cut? It doesn’t matter. Noah had noticed her before the scar was gone. And if it did matter to him… If I’m still alive to worry about it, that’ll be good.

Pierce grunted, evidently convinced. “All right. You’re unconscious.”

She focused on even breathing as he cut the twine that had tied her bound wrists to the bed. But her wrists were still bound. He didn’t cut my hands free. Dammit.

He took her wrists and brought them over her head, resting them on her stomach. He paused. He’s looking at me. Waiting. She kept breathing and kept her eyes closed.

Noah rolled his car to a silent stop, diagonally behind the open garage. Inside was a Lincoln Navigator, a black BMW, and a brown Honda Civic with the trunk lid up.

Heart pounding, he got out of his car moving noiselessly, weapon drawn. Brock followed, watching his back. Inside the truck was a huddled figure wrapped in a blanket. Be Eve. Be alive. He pulled the blanket aside and blew out a breath. It was the girl he’d seen with Tom Hunter the night before. She was nude, bound, her mouth taped, her eyes staring up at him desperately. Her skin was already blue.

He peeled the tape back from her mouth. “Hurry,” she whispered, teeth chattering. “He’s got Eve in the basement. He’s got a knife.”

Noah pulled the blanket back up over her, shrugging out of his own coat to wrap her in it. She’d be dead from exposure in minutes. “How many doors to the basement?”

“One. From the kitchen.”

“Stay with her,” he said to Brock and took off at a run, ignoring Brock’s hissed command to wait for backup. The house was eerily empty, the television set to the news. Abbott had just finished his press conference.

It was safe to assume Pierce knew he was a wanted man. It was safe to assume he’d do anything, as he had nothing to lose. Noah was at the door to the basement when he heard a crash that sounded like a wall coming down. He started to run.

Eve sat up, breathing hard, blinking to clear her vision. Her leg burned, but what she saw was far better than she hoped and ironic as hell. The shelves of shoes had come down. She’d waited until he’d bent to cut the twine at her feet, then she’d shoved her body down the cot, knees bent, and kicked him backward. Caught unawares, he’d gone sprawling against the wall, knocking all the shelves down.

One wood shelf had smacked his head and he lay unmoving. Shelves and shoes covered him in a heap, so that only his feet showed. Eve was bizarrely reminded of the red-and-white-striped stockings of the Wicked Witch and half expected his toes to curl.

“Eve!”

Slowly Eve looked to the stairs, sending the room into a spin. Noah was leaping, taking four stairs at a time. He rushed to her side, pale, holstering his gun. White knight, she thought as he grabbed Pierce’s knife from the floor and cut the twine that bound her feet. Then she saw movement behind him and screamed, hoarsely. “Noah.”

Pierce had risen from the shoes and was running to the stairs. In two steps Noah was on him, gun drawn. Then Eve heard a sickening crunch, metal to bone. Noah dropped to his knees and Pierce remained standing, holding a shovel like a bat.

Pierce swung again, but Noah rolled, the shovel head hitting his shoulder instead. A moment later, Noah tackled him and Pierce went down.

On his hands and knees, Noah blinked hard, trying to see. Pierce was on the floor, scrabbling backward. He plowed a fist into Pierce’s face, feeling satisfaction when the cartilage in Pierce’s nose yielded like butter. But Pierce rolled to his feet, standing behind him. Noah twisted, found himself looking into the barrel of a.22 with a silencer.

“Hands out, Noah,” Pierce said. “I want to see them.”

Noah held his hands out. His own gun was three feet away, dropped when he’d been hit by the shovel. Too far to grab. He watched Pierce, waiting for the time to move.

“This is the way I always wanted you to die,” Pierce said with a smile, even though blood gushed from his nose. He stood over him, staring down. “On your knees, looking up at me.”

Noah was breathing hard, his ears still ringing from the blow. “There are police surrounding this place. If you kill me, you’ll still go down.”

“But I will have killed you,” Pierce said, reasonably. “And I have a hostage.”

Noah didn’t think he’d ever adequately describe the expression that crossed Pierce’s face next, a combination of surprise and… annoyance. Noah leapt, wresting the gun from Pierce’s hand, but he didn’t have to exert much force. Pierce slumped to his knees, then fell flat on his face, Eve falling with him. Her hands were still bound and she wore nothing except the satisfaction on her face. Her left hand still clutched Pierce’s knife as it stuck from his back, blood soaking his tan overcoat.

“No, you do not have a hostage.” She lifted her eyes. “Are you all right?”

Noah crawled to her, checking her for injuries. “I’m fine. What did he do to you?”

“I don’t know,” she said, dully. “What did he do to me?”

“He hit you. Oh, Eve.” She looked like Brock had on Sunday night.

She grabbed his arm, clumsily. “My face. Did he cut my face?”

Noah wiped the blood away from her cheek. “Not much. Nobody will be able to tell.” It was then the shoes sank in. “Oh my God. Micki was right. The shoes.”

Eve blinked slowly. “He killed all these women. They’re under us, right now.”

He’d deal with that later. She looked like she was going into shock. He tried to stand up, but came back hard on his knees. The room was spinning so he crawled to get a blanket on the floor next to the bed. He wrapped Eve in it, then pulled her to his lap, holding her close, giving her his warmth. “You’re like ice.”

She stared at the knife protruding from Pierce’s back. “Did I kill him?”

“I hope so,” he said fiercely.

Olivia came down the stairs, her gun at her side, then stopped short. “Holy shit,” she muttered. She knelt at Pierce’s side, put her fingers to his throat. “Alive, but barely.” She took her radio from her belt, called the all-clear and requested three more gurneys, then knelt beside Noah, reaching for Eve. “Let her go, Web.”

Noah shook his head, sending the room spinning again. “No.”

“Noah,” she said gently, “you’ve got a huge gash in the back of your head and you are bleeding a river. In about three minutes you’ll be flat on this floor yourself. Let her go so I can cut this twine.”

Reluctantly, Noah let go. Olivia efficiently cut the twine from Eve’s hands as the medics thundered down the stairs. Eve met his eyes as the medics lifted her to a gurney. “He killed his wife. She’s under the floor. They all are. Jeremy Lyons, too.”

A second medic was pushing Noah to a gurney. “Wait.” He blinked at the floor, saw a handle. “Open it.”

Olivia yanked, then gagged when a concrete slab rolled back. “Oh my God.” She covered her mouth as she stared into the pit. “That’s his wife, Ann Pierce.”

A man’s hand stuck up out of the dirt. “Jeremy Lyons,” Noah whispered. “Kane was right. So was Micki.”

Olivia pulled the slab shut. “You can tell them yourself, once you’ve had stitches. Take him,” she said to the medics. “Don’t let him argue.”

Noah let the medic roll him to his side to tend to his head. “Do me a favor.”

“The ER docs’ll give you a local when they give you the stitches,” the medic said.

“No.” Noah pointed to Pierce’s barely breathing body. “His bus? Drive it real slow.”

Thursday, February 25, 6:15 p.m.

“Oh, Eve.”

From her hospital bed, Eve turned to see Callie standing in the doorway, distress on her face. “You should see the other guy,” she said, trying for light, but her voice still too hoarse.

“We tried,” Callie said, utterly serious. “But they wouldn’t let us in the morgue. Sal wanted to be sure he was really dead, but the ME said we’d have to take his word for it. Good for you, girl.”

Carleton Pierce had bled out as the helicopter transporting him had touched down on the hospital’s roof. “I don’t feel bad,” Eve murmured. “I suppose I should, but I don’t. I feel pretty damn good.”

Callie carefully sat on the edge of her bed. “As you should. Where’s Noah?”

“On the phone.” She smiled, gingerly. Her face still hurt from Pierce’s fists. And his knife. She fought back the shudder and thought of good things. “Jack woke up. The first person he asked for was Noah. They’re talking now.”

Callie squeezed her hand gently. “That’s good. Maybe Jack will pull it together. Listen, you’ve got a crowd waiting to see you. Are you up for visitors?”

Eve raised her hand to her throat, knowing what it looked like. Pierce had cut away her choker, exposing what was still a nasty scar. Then she shrugged. “It is what it is,” she said. “Let the visitation begin.”

“I went by your place, grabbed you some clean clothes, a robe, and this.” Callie reached into her pocket and pulled out another choker.

Eve’s eyes stung. “Thank you. For knowing it would be important.”

“Don’t start crying or you’ll have me crying again.” She busied herself helping Eve into the robe and fastening the leather choker around her neck. “Sal will be chomping at the bit. He closed the bar so he could be the first one here. He only let me in first to get you presentable. He was the pillar of strength, keeping everyone’s spirits up, taking care of your Chicago friends.” She dropped her voice. “Then when he got the word that you were okay, alive, he broke down. Cried like a baby. So did Jeff Betz.”

Eve sniffled. “That’s so sweet.”

“And your friends from Chicago? They wanted to be here when you woke up, so Jeff gave them a ride in his cruiser, lights flashing.”

“David’s was the first face I saw when I woke up from the surgery to sew up my leg.” Eve made a face. “It was like a bad rerun. His face is always the first one I see when I wake up from an attack by a homicidal lunatic.” But it had been such a relief. Max and Tom had been on the other side of the bed. Her family had rallied.

“You could certainly wake up to a lot worse,” Callie said. “As wakeup-to faces go, David’s would be the one I’d choose, every time. So, you ready?”

Eve drew a breath. “Let ’em in.” No sooner had she uttered the words than Sal was there, his arms around her, hard and safe. He was trembling, she realized. No, he was crying. The tears she’d blinked back burst free. “I’m okay,” she said, patting his back. “Totally okay.”

He nodded, his face pressed against the curve of her neck. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” he grunted. He pulled back and wiped at his eyes, unashamed.

Callie handed her a tissue. “Or he’ll fire you. He said that on the way over, about six times.”

Sal shot her a dirty look. “I was emotional.”

Eve patted his cheek. “I think you’re sweet,” she said. “But fiscally irresponsible. I can’t believe you closed the bar. There’s a game tonight.”

“Nobody was there anyway,” Noah said from the door, and as always, he took her breath away. It didn’t seem to matter what kind of doorway he stood in, the result was the same. “It appears they’re all downstairs, waiting to see you.”

Sal twisted around to stare at Noah, then looked back at Eve with a satisfied smirk. “So I suppose you’ll be taking that bottle to Trina’s on Sunday after all?”

She met Noah’s eyes and in them saw everything she’d ever wanted. “I suppose I will.” She struggled to sit up. “Now, how about those visitors? I hope they brought flowers. I haven’t had flowers since the last time I got kidnapped.”

Thursday, February 25, 8:30 p.m.

Olivia gratefully wrapped her hands around the cup of coffee Kane had coaxed from the vending machine in the hospital’s waiting room. “Thanks, I needed this.”

“You need to go home, Liv,” he said gently.

“I will. I just want to check on Liza and Eve first.”

“Is Micki still at the scene?”

Pierce’s basement had been a hellacious discovery, branded into her memory. “Yeah. Probably will be for days. If you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about that now.”

“Okay.” In true Kane fashion, he was quiet until she was ready to talk again.

“I called Social Services,” she finally said. “Got a nice place for Liza.”

“That’s good.”

She looked away, too close to tears. “Kane. The bodies in that pit… it was horrible.”

He brushed his big hand down her hair. “See the ladies, and I’ll take you home.”

“You’re a fine chauffeur. You got your lights smacked out today, too. I’ll be okay. But thank you.” She drew a breath. “Let’s go.”

They went into Liza Barkley’s hospital room where the girl lay, grimly coherent. She remembered everything, Olivia knew. Liza had her arms crossed and stared straight ahead. She was alive, but her sister was not, and that put the girl on a long, lonely road.

Tom sat at her side, quietly, not touching her. He stood when Olivia and Kane entered. “I was with Eve, but she had a crowd.”

And Liza was all alone. Olivia stood by her bed, touched her shoulder. “I found a really nice place for you to go when they let you out tomorrow. The woman that runs the home is a personal friend of mine. She’ll take good care of you.”

Liza looked up, her eyes dead. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For everything.”

Olivia met Tom’s eyes, saw the helplessness there and knew how he felt. “You both have my number. Call me day or night if you need me. I’ll let you rest now. I’ll be back tomorrow when they release you.”

Olivia was at the door when Liza spoke again. “Detective. Did he live?”

It was, perhaps, the one bright spot. “No.”

Liza’s eyes flickered wildly, but her voice was calm. “My sister. Did you find her?”

“Yes.” And she could see it in her mind. Probably always would.

Liza nodded. “I understand.”

“You two did good. We might not have found him in time without that license plate. Try to sleep now. Tom, I’ll see you later.”

Outside, she slumped against the wall and shuddered.

“There wasn’t anything left of her sister, was there?” Kane asked.

“No,” Olivia said hoarsely. “Just bones.”

“Jennie’s downstairs, waiting for me.” Jennie was Kane’s wife. “You’re coming home with us. You’re not going to be alone tonight, Liv,” he added sharply, when she tried to argue, then he smiled to soften his words. “I’ll carry you out of here if I have to.”

Olivia nodded wearily. “Okay. Just for tonight.” She didn’t think she could be alone tonight. “Let’s go by Eve’s room. I’ll make it quick.”

Thursday, February 25, 8:45 p.m.

They’d all come, Eve thought, still a little stunned. Fifteen minutes before she and Noah had been sitting in her hospital room, Noah sporting a thick bandage on his head and she with her leg elevated, the bullet hole wrapped and treated.

And then, the horde had descended. My family. They came. Dana and Ethan, Caroline and Max, Mia and her husband, Reed. David had called them and without a second thought, they’d come. They were noisy and laughing and joyful.

And mine. The tears came again in a torrent, but that was okay, because they’d all been crying, too. Dana had plopped her pregnant self down on the bed beside her and hugged her like she’d never let go while everyone eyed Noah as if he were an alien from outer space.

A new roar of welcome rose when Olivia came into the room. “I just came to check on the patient,” she said, her voice falsely bright, then stopped short when she saw Mia standing by the window next to her husband. “I didn’t know you were here.” Then Olivia burst into unexpected tears and tried to escape, but hit the wall of Kane.

Mia put her arms around her. “I didn’t want to distract you,” she said. A homicide detective herself, Mia understood the pressure. Olivia, trying to find me and Liza before it was too late. And dealing with what Pierce left behind.

“Come,” Mia told her sister. “Reed will take us back to our hotel and we’ll have chocolate. It’ll be all right.” Mia and Kane shared a knowing glance. “Thanks, Kane. We’ve got her now.” Then she looked at Eve. “Try to stay out of trouble, kid, okay?”

Eve watched them go with a sigh. She knew Mia had come as much for Olivia as she had for her and that was as it should be.

“Mia will know what to do. I can’t imagine…” I won’t think about the pit. Not tonight.

Beside her, Dana hugged her hard. “You’re here,” she said firmly. “And okay.”

“And you hacked into ShadowCo.” Ethan pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “I am so proud. I’ll contact them on Monday, tell them they have a network security issue.”

“Then I want half the commission when they hire you to fix it,” Eve said.

“A third,” Ethan said. “Okay, half,” he amended when Dana elbowed him.

“You led her into this life of hacker crime,” Caroline said, amused.

Max scoffed at that. “You all did, with the clandestine activities and taking care of people whether they wanted it or not. Speaking of clandestine activities, where is Tom?”

“He went to sit with Liza,” Eve said and they all sobered again. “Poor kid. I wish…”

Dana leaned her head against Eve’s shoulder. “We’ll just be there for her.”

Like Dana always was for me. “I know.”

Caroline stood. “We’re out of here now, but we’ll come back tomorrow. We’re staying at a hotel about three blocks from your place. When you get out, we’ll have Dana’s baby shower in our room, then we have to be getting back.” She looked up over her shoulder at Max. “Your mother will be tearing her hair out with all the kids.”

Between Caroline’s and Dana’s toddlers, Dana’s fosters, and Mia’s adopted son, Max and David’s mom had ten kids under her care. The horde, squared. It made Eve smile.

“Mom loves it,” Max said. “Don’t let her fool you.” He leaned over and kissed Eve on the forehead. “Three times is your charm, kid. No more getting kidnapped, okay?”

Eve laughed softly. “I’ll do my very best.”

Friday, February 26, 3:00 p.m.

“The real Carleton Pierce was a poor kid from a small Colorado town,” Abbott said when they’d all rejoined around Abbott’s table the next day. Olivia and Kane were there, Ian and Micki. And Eve. She sat at Noah’s side, listening as everyone brought a little bit of the story together.

The only one not here was Jack. Nobody was sure when he’d be back at work. But he was alive and that’s all that mattered for now.

Dell Farmer had been charged with the attempted murder of Jack, along with the murders of Katie Dobbs, Harvey Farmer, and Kurt Buckland. MSP planned to do a follow-up article to be sure everyone knew what had really happened.

Noah didn’t plan to buy a copy.

In the last month, Pierce had taken the lives of six women as the Red Dress Killer and four others to cover his tracks-Ann Pierce, Jeremy Lyons, and the Bolyards. Then there were all the women in his pit. Noah pushed them to the edge of his mind for the moment, concentrating on Abbott’s summary of what they’d discovered in the last twenty-four.

“The real Carleton Pierce graduated from high school the spring after Eddie Black hung his mother,” Abbott went on. “His home address was on a copy of the acceptance letter the university had sent. The real Carleton’s parents had died in an accident. He was taken in by a local family and the town came together to care for him. He graduated valedictorian, earned a full scholarship to the U. His town pitched in, bought him a used car, had a nice pot-luck to see him off, and never saw him again.”

“He sent a thank-you card,” Kane said, “and a few Christmas cards. But he never came home. They had old high school yearbooks in the town library and they faxed us his picture. Their Carleton Pierce looked nothing like ours.”

“So what happened to the real Carleton Pierce?” Ian asked.

“We may never know,” Noah said. “Based on what we know of the real Eddie Black, the real Carleton Pierce is dead.”

“We found a.22 slug in his wife’s head,” Ian said. “Same as the gun he used on Jeremy Lyons and the Bolyards.” He looked at Eve. “And to shoot you.”

Noah pushed that image away, too. Eve was fine, but she almost hadn’t been.

“We’ve pieced the story on Ann Pierce,” Noah said. He’d talked with her employer that morning. “She’d borrowed cash from a friend at work to book that flight to LA, the one she never showed up for. Apparently Ann Pierce had friends that Carleton didn’t know about. We think she dropped off the cat because she didn’t want to leave it alone, because she may have planned to kill Pierce herself.”

“We found another gun in their bedroom closet,” Micki said, “with Ann’s fingerprints on it. We’re guessing she figured out what he was doing and Pierce killed her first.”

“What I don’t understand,” Ian said, “is why he kept the cat?”

“Pierce kept souvenirs,” Micki said. She was pale, her eyes drawn. They weren’t close to being finished processing Pierce’s basement. “Shoes, driver’s licenses, wallets, cell phones. I think he kept the cat as a souvenir of his Red Dress murders.”

Abbott sighed. “We found three dozen pairs of shoes in his basement. From the driver’s licenses, he hunted these women from as far east as Chicago and south as Omaha. He consulted on a few of his own murders of local prostitutes, as part of the homicide investigation. Brian Ramsey is pulling his hair out. Innocent men in prison, every case Pierce testified in up for appeal. This isn’t going away for a long time.”

“We’ll be able to close some of our own cold cases,” Noah murmured. “Including the disappearance of Roger Eames, twenty years ago. He was a laborer, did odd jobs. We found his driver’s license at the bottom of Pierce’s drawer.”

“And his work boots in the pile of shoes that fell off his shelves,” Olivia added flatly. “Still had cement in the treads. Apparently, Roger Eames dug the pit.”

“The deed to the house was in his name,” Abbott said. “We never would have found the house that way.”

“How did he find out about your study, Eve?” Ian asked.

“When Donner was diagnosed with cancer, his doctor recommended a list of therapists,” Eve said. She’d talked with Donner’s wife and mother that morning, trying to understand how her study had gone so wrong. “One of them was Pierce. Over the course of his therapy, Donner mentioned the study, said he needed an independent third-party consultant. Pierce was intrigued and he volunteered.”

“When Pierce knew we had the participant list,” Noah said, “he knew Jeremy Lyons had to go. As Donner got sicker, he’d passed more authority and access to Lyons.”

“We found Jeremy’s laptop in Pierce’s New Germany house,” Micki said. “He’d sent an email to Pierce with the list as an attachment. We found all the Red Dress victims’ computers in the New Germany house, in fact.”

“Martha used her stool at Ninth Circle to solicit business for Siren Song,” Abbott said. “We’re not sure if she became obsessed with the World to support her phone sex business or turned to phone sex because it allowed her to never leave her PC. Her heaviest call volume was in the hours the other victims were killed, so that’s probably why she met Pierce so much earlier than the others.”

“Which turned out to be important,” Micki said, her brows raised.

“As did the cat and the shoes,” Noah said. “You were right. And Kane, you were right about Jeremy. Pierce used his phone to leave the text and voicemail for Eve. Sitting right outside Abbott’s window as he did so. One more of his up-yours.”

“Like Das Ich,” Eve said. “Dasich. I can’t believe I didn’t see that. All my avatars’ names had meaning. I never looked at his.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty, Eve,” Abbott said kindly. “For all of us. We’ve checked out Pierce’s computers, too. He had two, and accessed Shadowland from both so he could have two avatars active at once, never considering anyone was watching him.”

“Why Axel Girard?” Ian asked. “How did he pick him?”

Noah sighed. “Axel was his optometrist. Eve realized Pierce resented us for the MSP attention, that he never got credit, but he used that anonymity, believing Axel would never have cause to link him to this case.”

“The trigger was MSP,” Eve said. “For both Pierce and Dell Farmer.”

“We’ll think twice before granting any more interviews,” Abbott said.

“And then we’ll just say ‘no way in hell,’ ” Noah added.

“When will you release the bodies of Pierce’s victims?” Eve asked Ian.

“Today,” he said. “Why?”

“I plan to go to their funerals,” she said.

“Eve,” Abbott said, “you don’t believe any of their deaths are on your head, do you?”

“No.” She gave Abbott a sad smile. “But they were vulnerable to Pierce because all they had was a virtual life. They looked for happiness in an imaginary world because they couldn’t find it in the real one. There but for the grace of God…”

Abbott’s gaze was respectful. “If you’d like someone to go with you, I will.”

Eve looked surprised and touched. “I’d like that. Thank you, Captain.”

“What about you, Eve?” Olivia asked. “Have you heard from the university?”

“Yes. Pierce was lying to get me to leave with him. The dean never contacted him. Dean Jacoby called me this morning. Under the circumstances, there will be no sanctions. We’ll regroup, retool the study with appropriate checks, and begin again.”

Abbott blew out a breath. “I think we’ve covered everything. Everybody go home.”

Eve rose, leaning on the cane the hospital had given her until her leg healed. “Actually, we’re on our way to Sal’s. We’re having a baby shower there for my friend. You’re all invited and Sal says the drinks are on him today.”

Except for me, Noah thought. He’d decided not to go and after he’d explained, Eve’s family had offered to change the venue. But it meant a great deal to Sal and therefore to Eve, so they’d kept the shower there. They’d have an early dinner with her family before they all went back to Chicago and they’d planned an alcohol-free meal.

Noah was looking forward to it. Now, he’d drop Eve off at Sal’s for the shower and go see Jack. They had much to discuss.

Friday, February 26, 8:30 p.m.

“That was nice,” Noah said, helping Eve into his car after every member of her family had hugged them both. “I especially liked all the stories about your misspent youth.”

“I wasn’t that bad. I imagine Brock’s got stories on you that are as good or better.”

“Good point.” He dropped a kiss on her lips and she kissed him back. “Although I wonder if Caroline and Dana know they’ve been immortalized as avatars.”

Eve winced. “Caught that, did you?”

“What, that Pandora’s face is Caroline’s and Greer the Guardian looks just like Dana? I saw it the minute they walked into your hospital room. But I won’t tell. Just tell me I’m not in your avatar collection.” He’d meant it as a joke, but she hesitated. “Eve?”

“Well, remember when you asked me if you needed a virtual warrant to enter one of the condos and I said I had connections and could get one? Well…”

He gave her a mock glare. “Just tell me I’m wearing appropriate attire.”

She snickered. “You do have a hat. The rest is… let’s just say I imagined well what went on under your suits. Really well. I’ll have to show you later.”

He laughed out loud and it felt good. “Where to?”

“My place.”

“My place doesn’t have a leaky roof.”

“But I need to pack a bag.” She aimed Noah an arched look. “Plus, I think we still have some unfinished business having to do with a certain stuffed chair.”

He looked at her leg, his blood already heating. “Can you?”

“I’m young. I heal fast. Very, very fast.” She lifted her brows. “Can you?”

He snorted a laugh. “I’m functional. Very, very functional.”

“So shut up and drive, Web.”

He obeyed, making the trip to her place in record time, then carrying her up the three flights of stairs to her apartment. He’d started by romantically cradling her close, but after the first flight flung her over his shoulder while she laughed out loud.

“That was a one-time deal,” he said, breathing hard, but the sound of her happy laughter had been worth it. “Open the door so I can collapse.”

She obeyed, then they both stared at David Hunter, who sat in her stuffed chair, arm in a cast, looking as if he owned the place. “I thought you went home,” she said.

David’s dark brows lifted. “I did.”

Noah’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to live here? With Eve?”

David chuckled. “Not exactly. I’ll live downstairs.”

“You are renting from that scum-sucking bastard, Myron Daulton?” she demanded.

“No, you are renting from me. And in six months, your lease is up. If you choose to renew, I’m going to have to raise your rent.” David grinned. “I bought the place.”

Eve’s mouth fell open. “You bought… this place? This place should be condemned.”

“Nah, it’s not in such bad shape. See, on Wednesday morning I was up on the roof, patching your leaks, all of which were man-made, by the way.”

Eve narrowed her eyes. “I knew it. And Callie said I was being paranoid.”

“Well, you weren’t. Anyway, this guy pulls up in a fancy car and calls up to me to come down, that he owns this place and I’m trespassing.”

“Eve’s landlord wouldn’t allow you to fix her roof?” Noah asked.

“Because he’s a scum-sucking bastard,” David said affably. “You’d said he just wanted to sell the place, so I decided to buy it.”

“Just like that?” Eve said. “You’d buy an old house like this?”

His smile softened. “Yeah. It’s an investment.”

Her smile softened as well. “That’s sweet. Except for the part about raising my rent.”

David grinned. “Yeah, well, not by much. A few bucks. If you’re still here.”

Eve sat down on the sofa. “Wait a minute. So what are you using for money?”

“I got a good deal. Myron didn’t want me telling anyone he’d sabotaged the roof, so he heavily discounted the asking price.”

“But what are you using for money?” she repeated. “You’re not rich.”

David sat back and studied her face. “I sold my garage.”

Eve’s mouth fell open again. “Your body shop in Chicago? You’ve had it for years.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve had somebody running it for me, ever since I joined the fire department, and that guy’s been asking to buy it. So I sold it.”

Eve’s mind was reeling. “Just like that? My God.”

“And I gave my notice to my captain at the fire department,” David added.

Noah sat down beside her, heavily. “Why? You weren’t hurt that badly…”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I applied with the fire department here and in St. Paul.”

Eve sat back, stunned. “David. I can’t keep up.”

He smiled at her. “Actually you led the way. Gave me the push I needed anyway. You were right. I was hiding in Chicago, just like you were. I decided it was time to start fresh, just like you did.” He gave her a wink. “Maybe I’ll be like you when I grow up.”

“So what if you don’t get the job here?” Eve asked, bewildered.

“Then I’ll fix this place up, flip it, buy the place next door and do the same. You reinvented yourself, Eve. It’s about time I did the same.”

“I don’t understand,” Noah murmured. “Do I need to?”

She smiled serenely. “No. It’s all good. I’m going to pack a bag and go to Noah’s. This chair is the only furniture I want. The rest can stay with the house.”

“The rest can go in a bonfire,” David said, shaking his head.

“If I decide not to stay with the new management,” she said archly, “I’ll move my chair to Noah’s.” She glanced up at Noah. “If you can’t bring the mountain to Mohammed.”

Noah’s lips twitched. “I see.”

She smiled at him. “I thought you might.”

“I don’t want to see,” David said with a scowl.

“Exactly my point,” Eve said, rising. “There are some things family shouldn’t see.”

David watched her go back to her room, contemplatively. “Make her happy, Noah.”

“That’s my plan.” Noah gave David a measuring look. “You do body work?”

The measuring stare was returned. “Some. Why?”

“I’ve got this ’69 Dodge Charger that’s been sitting in my garage in pieces.”

Hunter nodded. “I can help with that. And if I don’t get a firehouse right away, I might start up another shop. You know this starting all over might not be so bad.”

“We all need a nudge sometimes.” Noah stood as Eve re-emerged, a bag over one shoulder. “Life’s too short to stand back and watch from the sidelines.”

She tilted her head, hearing the last part of the conversation, her lips curving in that half smile that had first attracted him. “No more dipping our toes in. From here on out, it’s just one big cold pool. Cannonballs, big splashes. Babe.”

Noah laughed as David grimaced. “Sounds painful,” David said.

Eve pressed a hard kiss to Noah’s mouth. “Actually, the water’s warm. Ready?”

And Noah found that indeed, he was.