I’m Watching You

Chapter Twenty-One

Friday, February 27,

10:00 P.M.

From his half-lounging position on her bed, Abe watched Kristen get ready for bed. It was the first time he’d had the opportunity. Every other time they’d ended up in her bed-room, they’d stumbled in, shedding clothes along the way, falling into bed to make incredible love. Now, tonight, he could just watch her. He used to love watching Debra get ready for bed. He’d missed the closeness, the knowing that soon she’d lie beside him.

That he’d found that closeness again was almost too hard to believe.

Kristen paused, her fingers stilling on the middle button of her blouse. She could feel the steady pressure of his eyes from the bed. He’d piled some pillows behind his head and sat up against the headboard, his long legs stretched out. She looked over her shoulder and shivered at the heated look in his eyes. „Why are you looking at me?“

His smile was at once sensual and beatific and stole her breath. „Because you’re beautiful. Don’t mind me. Just keep going.“

She looked back down at her blouse, focusing on the buttons, willing her hands not to shake. She needed to tell him. Now, Kristen. Instead she concentrated on her clothes, taking them off, hanging them up as was her habit until she stood in nothing but her bra and panties. There was a rustle from the bed and he was behind her, almost scorching her back with his heat. He covered her shoulders with his hands and kissed the side of her neck. She tilted her head to give him better access and shivered again when he ran his tongue down her neck to the curve of her shoulder.

„Cold?“ he murmured.

„No,“ she whispered.

„Mmm. Good.“ His hands capably kneaded the tight muscles in her back, then guided her to the little chair at her vanity. „Sit.“

She sat and from under heavy lids watched in the mirror as he pulled the pins from her hair, knowing that he was creating traditions. One by one the pins dropped to the vanity surface until her hair sprang free. He picked up the brush and ran it through her hair, gently scraping her scalp. Her eyes drifted closed. It felt so good.

„Good,“ he said softly. „I’d stop if it felt bad.“

Her eyes flew open and she stared up at him. „How do you do that? How do you make me say what I’m thinking out loud?“

„I think you say it out loud because in your heart you want me to hear it.“ The brush paused and he sobered. „What’s wrong, Kristen? You’ve been so quiet tonight“

Now, Kristen. Don’t be a coward now. She stood up, slipping around him to shrug into her robe. „I need to talk to you. I need you to listen, because it’s hard to say.“

His brow creased in a frown, he set the brush on the vanity and went back to sit on the bed. „I’m listening.“

She opened the vanity drawer and found the little album. Holding it to her chest, she turned and looked into his very worried blue eyes. „I know about your baby.“

He visibly blanched. „How?“

„Aidan let it slip. He didn’t know I didn’t know. Then your father showed me a picture of Debra right before… You know.“

His nod was jerky, his skin pale beneath the dark stubble on his cheeks. „I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to deceive you, Kristen. I just don’t talk about it.“

„I know.“ She sat on the bed facing him. „I understand.“ She swallowed, then put the album on the bed next to his hip and shot to her feet. He picked it up, looked at the first photo, an infant with tiny red curls and big green eyes. Instant recognition dawned.

„She’s yours,“ he said dully. She said nothing and he flipped to the next photo and the next until he came to the end. „Eleven pictures.“

Kristen’s body was trembling and she couldn’t make it stop. „One at birth and one for every birthday thereafter.“

„She’s pretty.“

„Thank you.“

He looked up, his eyes unreadable. „What’s her name?“

She hugged herself, hoping to control her shaking. „They named her Savannah.“

He nodded, still looking at her. „Where is she?“

„California.“

„So far away.“

„Her parents moved from Chicago when she was four.“

He looked back down at the album and traced ten-year-old Savannah’s smile with the tip of his forefinger. „What did you think I’d say, Kristen?“

She bit her lip. „I don’t know.“

„Did you think I would blame you?“

Hunching her shoulders, she dropped her gaze. „I didn’t know. I blame myself.“

„That I can believe.“ The warmth in his voice made her look up. He opened his arms and she crawled across the bed and into them. „Kristen, honey.“

The tears came then and he pulled her onto his lap. „Oh, Abe, I didn’t know what you’d say. You lost your baby and I gave mine away.“

„No, you didn’t. You gave your baby a chance to have a normal life.“ His hand was on her hair, stroking. Holding her until her tears slowed and his shirt was soaked. „I take it you got pregnant after…“ He kissed the top of her head. „After.“

„I hadn’t planned to tell anyone. Then I missed one period, then two, and I didn’t know what to do. So I told my parents.“

His hold on her tightened. „And they didn’t believe you.“

„An unmarried pregnant daughter was worse than a drunken dead one.“

There was a long, long pause. „I hate your father, Kristen.“

She rested her cheek against the rock hardness of his chest. „So do I.“

Another long pause. „Do you see her? Savannah?“

Kristen’s heart squeezed. „No. We agreed they’d send me a picture every year on her birthday, and if she ever asked about me, they’d tell her that I was young and alone and couldn’t care for a baby.“

„Which is all true.“

„Yes. When she’s eighteen they’ll let her choose whether she wants to meet me.“

„They’re good people, then.“

Her eyes burned. „Yes. And they love her so much.“

„Then you did the right thing,“ he murmured. Carefully he put the album in her nightstand drawer. Then tilted up her chin and claimed her lips in the sweetest, gentlest kiss. Her heart swelled in her chest and when he lifted his head she could only look at him as the words raced through her head.

That’s not all I need to tell you. There’s something wrong with me.

Please don’t mind. Please don’t let it matter.

I love you.

His eyes flashed, brilliant blue. „Say it again. I want to know you mean me to hear it.“

To deny him was never an option. „I love you,“ she whispered.

Roughly he pushed her to her back and followed her down, his mouth taking unquestionable possession of hers, his hands cupping her face, his body insistently thrusting. „Tell me you want me.“

„I want you.“ She did. Throbbing a primal rhythm in response to his passion, her body lifted against him. Her hands clumsily pulled at his shirt until she’d parted it to his waist, touching his chest, shuddering when he groaned.

He stripped away her robe and knelt between her legs, yanking at his cuffs until the buttons popped off. She sat up and holding his gaze, unhooked her bra and dropped it off the side of the bed. He did the rest, getting rid of her panties and his pants, then he stopped. And he stared. And her mouth went dry.

This wasn’t the slow, considerate lover she’d known. He was frantic, shaking, hanging on to his control by a thread. She severed that thread when she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down on her. Their kisses were wild and open-mouthed, lips and cheeks and any piece of skin they could reach until she was vibrating under him.

„Abe, do it. Now.“

And he did, entering her hard and deep, groaning into her mouth when she cried out. He plunged wildly, taking them higher with every thrust into her body. She felt the now familiar tightening of her inner muscles, a miracle after so many years alone, then she fell into the heaven she’d found only with this man, her climax stunning in its strength. But what was the true gift was the expression on his face, the stark beauty of his features as he reached his own peak, the shudder of his body as he spilled himself into her.

He collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he struggled for breath. She stroked his broad back and waited, knowing the instant he came back to himself. He stilled, drew a deep breath. And said the words she’d waited a lifetime to hear.

„I love you, too.“ Then he rolled them to their sides, cup-ping her buttocks and pulling her close so they remained as one.

A long time later, well after she’d thought him asleep, she felt the rumble of his voice against her cheek. „Kristen, I’m sorry. I forgot about protection.“

„It’s all right,“ she murmured.

He didn’t say anything for a minute. „So the timing’s not right?“ he asked, tentatively. She heard disappointment in his tone, faint, but there.

She swallowed convulsively. „No, it’s not right.“

And it never would be.

I’ll never have the child you want, Abe.

She waited for the words to spill from her mouth, wished they would tumble as effortlessly as all the other thoughts had. But Abe was obviously right. That only worked when she really wanted him to hear it. Because this, she didn’t. Not now, not ever.

Saturday, February 28,

9:00 a.m.

She hurt.

It was the first coherent thought Zoe had as she surfaced from the fog that enveloped her.

She was moving. That was the second thought. There was an eerie sense of floating. Then reality began to descend and with it the vile, unbearable images.

Oh, God, I hurt. He hurt me. She shuddered, remembering the brutality she’d endured at the hands of Drake Edwards. She tried to whimper, but her voice was gone. She blinked, tried to determine her surroundings. There was white. Lots of white. Maybe I’m dead Please let me be dead. Death was preferable to Drake Edwards. The movement slowed and she became aware of doors, of passing through doors, then the movement stopped.

„How long before she comes to?“

Nooo. Again she wanted to whimper, again no voice. It was Edwards. He was here. Dammit. She wasn’t dead.

„Looks like she’s awake now. The drug should fully wear off in an hour.“ The other voice was new. Who? What drug? „Until then she won’t move or speak.“

„Good.“ There was satisfaction in Edwards’s voice. She’d heard it often since he’d stolen her from her apartment. „I want her to be able to claw and scream.“

There was silence from the other man and then Edwards’s cruel chuckle.

„You’re not paid to like it. You’re paid to just do it.“

A sigh. „If we take out the padding, they both will fit.“

Padding? Frantically, she tried to look around, but her head wouldn’t move. She strained her peripheral vision to the left. And her breath hitched.

It was a coffin. She wanted to scream.

„I don’t care how you accomplish it,“ Edwards said. „Just do it.“ His face appeared above her and a wave of nausea threatened to choke her. He smiled, the same predatory smile she’d seen in Conti’s office. When had that been? What was today?

„You asked for an interview with Jacob, Miss Richardson,“ he said mockingly. „Unfortunately, Mr. Conti is occupied this afternoon. It’s his son’s funeral. He has, however, arranged for an alternate interview. Talk as long as you like.“ He moved her head, turning it so that she could see his body to her right. „It’s Emmy material.“

He moved away, laughing softly, allowing her full view of what lay to her right.

Zoe’s heart froze in her chest. It was a body in a black suit. With no face.

It was Angelo Conti. They were going to bury her with Angelo Conti. She screamed and screamed, but the sound echoed only inside her head.

Saturday, February 28,

11:15 a.m.

It was the first time Kristen had been in a Catholic church and she had no idea what to do. Luckily there were a lot of Reagans present, so all she had to do was follow along. There were benches on which to kneel and congregational readings to recite. There was the sacrament of Communion and the thundering organ. There was a priest in full regalia, swinging incense and a gold baptismal font next to which stood a beaming Sean and Ruth.

There was family. So much family it made Kristen’s heart ache. There were also more than a dozen cops in the pews, all carrying firearms. Friends of Kyle, Aidan, and Abe, all there to ensure there was no trouble from Conti or anyone else. Mia came, as did Spinnelli. Todd Murphy was even there, his suit freshly pressed.

Kristen watched as the priest took the baby, smiling into her little face. The deep breath she drew didn’t go unnoticed by Abe at her side. „Beautiful, isn’t she?“ he murmured.

Kristen felt the sting of tears. „Yes.“

„This is where the godparents are recognized,“ he whispered. „Annie is godmother and Ruth’s cousin Franklin is godfather.“

Abe watched as Annie and Franklin took their places. He’d been the first choice as godfather for Jeannette, who was now five, but he’d just gone undercover and couldn’t take full responsibility for his vows. Reagans took their vows seriously, after all. Aidan got to be Jeannette’s godfather and Abe missed out on the joy of watching her grow from infancy to the happy child she was today.

He and Debra had chosen Ruth and Sean as their son’s godparents. Of course they’d never gone through the ceremony. Perhaps they could be called on when he and Kristen christened their first child. Warmed within, he took her hand, squeezed it lovingly.

She looked up at him with a smile that didn’t come close to reaching her wet eyes. She’d been through so much this week. It was hard to know what lurked in the shadows behind her brittle smile. So much pain. He thought of the little girl, Savannah. Thought of the pain Kristen must feel every year when a new photograph arrived in the mail. He knew it. It was the same pain he felt every year when his son’s birthday came and went without celebration. He thought of the night before, how she’d told him she loved him. How natural it had been to love her. He looked down at her profile, felt his body stir. He’d come inside her last night with no barriers between them. She’d been so sure they were safe, that it was the wrong time. He smiled. He was Catholic after all. Half the people he knew got their start during the „safe“ time of the month. Maybe she’d be wrong, too.

He slid his arm around her shoulders, pulled her close. And imagined the day they would stand next to the priest and the baby he held would have tiny red curls and big green eyes. His life had finally begun again. He felt reborn and Kristen was the reason.

Saturday, February 28,

12:00 p.m.

Drake slid into the pew next to Jacob and Elaine. Elaine sat numb, stoned out of her mind. Jacob held her hand and shouldered the grief for them both as he stared at the coffin. Perhaps the fact that a portion of his vengeance was complete would be a balm.

„It’s done, Jacob,“ he murmured.

Jacob didn’t move a muscle, just sat staring at the coffin. „Good.“

Saturday, February 28,

12:15 p.m.

„Nice party, Abe,“ Mia said, walking up to him with a cup of punch in her hand. „Would be nicer if the punch were fortified, but it’s still nice.“

„It’s a christening, Mia,“ Abe said with a smile.

„Hey, everybody’s got to learn to party sometime.“ She looked around the church hall, her eyes sharp. „I think you’ve got enough coverage. I just got a call from Miss Keene, the hat lady. She found her high school annuals, and they have pictures of Robert Barnett.“

Abe’s pulse leaped. „Maybe we can finally figure out what ties Paul Worth, Robert Barnett, and those bullets to Leah Broderick. Do you want me to come?“

„Nah, you’ve got family stuff. I can handle Miss Keene. She likes me, you know.“

Abe gave her a steady look. „Lots of people do.“

Mia looked away. „Ray would have liked you, Abe. I’ll bring the yearbooks back here.“

Abe stared after her as she walked away, knowing approval from her former partner was one of the highest forms of praise he could ever expect. Then his own cell phone trilled, and he let the moment go. „Reagan.“ He listened, every nerve ending suddenly buzzing. „We’ll be there as soon as we can.“

He looked around and found Kristen talking with Aidan.

He made a beeline and watched her expression change as she read the urgency in his face.

„What now?“ she asked, her tone low.

„You got another envelope. Aidan, can you tell Sean and Ruth how sorry we are? Let’s get our coats and go.“

Saturday, February 28,

12:50 p.m.

Kristen stood on her front porch, frowning at the envelope. „It’s not a box. He always leaves a box.“

A car pulled up behind the cruiser and Jack got out. „It’s not a box,“ he said.

„We know, Jack,“ Abe said. „Let’s open it and find out why.“

„I hope this is fast,“ Jack muttered, waving to his car where Julia sat waiting. In the back was a small boy in a car seat. Jack blushed. „We’re going to the circus.“

Kristen’s smile was weak, but sincere. „I’m glad, Jack. Let’s get this over with so you don’t disappoint him.“

Jack stopped abruptly at the sight of her gutted kitchen. „Did you do this?“

„Only part of it. I had some help.“

Jack spread white paper on her table. „Let’s see now.“ He shook the envelope and two pieces of paper slid out. He handed the letter to Kristen and unfolded the other sheet.

„Oh, God,“ Kristen gasped. She held her hand over her mouth and looked sick.

Abe looked down at the unfolded paper and it was as if he’d taken a sledgehammer to the head. It was a political poster. Geoffrey Kaplan for Kansas it blazed, and below was a picture of a bland, balding man.

He was looking at Kristen’s rapist. Dear God.

„This is him?“ he asked and she nodded, her hand still clamped over her mouth. „How did he know?“ Abe demanded. „Dammit, Kristen, how did he know this?“

She sank into her chair, horrified. „I don’t know.“ She looked over her shoulder at the window. „Was he listening?“

Jack squatted down to look up into Kristen’s face. „Who is he?“

Her eyes flew to Abe’s, silently beseeching.

„Think, Jack,“ Abe said quietly. „Think about what Kristen said to the Erickson girl on the phone yesterday morning.“

Jack paled. „No.“

Kristen’s hands were shaking. „I only told you, Abe. The only time I’ve ever talked about him was sitting here in this kitchen with you on Thursday night. Either he was listening at the window or he’s bugged this room.“

Jack looked around the room, every wall picked clean. „The only place to hide it is under the table. Help me, Abe.“ Together they flipped the table and Jack searched. „Nothing here that I can see. Wait.“ He was gone for just a moment „Somebody was out there at some point. The thaw started Thursday morning, so I could believe he was out there Thursday night. You’ve also had something going on by that shed out there.“

„I can answer that.“ Mclntyre came in from outside. „There was a small disturbance in the backyard and I saw smoke. When I went to investigate, I found a smoke bomb. I ran back around to the front porch and found the envelope.“

„Diversion,“ Abe muttered. „When was this?“

„Two minutes before I called you,“ Mclntyre said. „I called a unit to sweep the neighborhood, looking for a white van, but they haven’t found anything yet.“

„Read the letter, Kristen,“ Abe said.

„I can’t.“ She was shaking like a leaf.

Abe took the letter. It was handwritten on a plain sheet of white paper in a flowing hand. „ ‘My dearest Kristen. I can’t tell you how sorry I am to have caused you and your friends and family so much pain. My intention was only to make you feel safe and vindicated. I will not send you any more letters, but I wanted you to have this last ultimate retribution. I have avenged you, my dear. The man who stole your innocence and youth will never harm anyone again. I remain as always, Your Humble Servant’“

Kristen’s face was stunned. „And the P.S.?“

„‘Good-bye.’“

Saturday, February 28,

1:00 p.m.

He sat on the basement step, staring at the three men he’d bound to tables. All three stared back, eyes glassy with shock and pain.

Judge Edmund Hillman, attorney Gerald Simpson, and rapist Clarence Terrill.

He looked down at the gun in his right hand, then at his left. Leah’s medallion. He’d worn it around his neck, on his own chain, since they’d removed it from her body at the morgue. He turned it, let it hit the light. Looked at the engraved initials as he’d done so many times before. WWJD. What would Jesus do?

He closed his eyes. Not what he’d done. Never what he’d done.

In the background droned the sound of his own voice, reading the transcript from Leah’s trial. He’d made the CD weeks ago, when he’d planned this final scene. He’d left it to play on an endless loop while he’d driven to Kansas.

These men must have heard it play ten, twenty times by now. Maybe more.

Then he’d driven to Kansas. That he’d killed Kaplan was a foregone conclusion. The man deserved to die. That he’d done it in such a blind, animal rage…

Then he’d looked into the eyes of that child. She’d seen him.

And he actually lifted his gun to kill her, too.

She’d said nothing, Kaplan’s child. She’d just stood there as he rose from the garage floor like a monster in a horror film, bloody and insane with the rage that had taken over his mind. She’d just stood there looking at him over her father’s car, her eyes wide and frozen.

He’d almost killed a defenseless child. A child who’d harmed no one. An innocent. And in that moment he knew what he’d become.

He’d become just like those he’d come to hate.

He’d lowered the gun to his side. Dropped the tire iron, then run to his van, and driven for miles before stopping to wash himself in the snow. There was red all around as he scrubbed and scrubbed. Finally, he got back in his van and drove the long hours back to Chicago, back to Kristen’s house, where he’d parked a block away, created a diversion, dropped off his final envelope and come home.

He was cold. He ached. But he still had a job to do. He always finished what he started. Heavily, he pulled himself to his feet and moved to switch off the CD player, feeling three sets of eyes watching his every move. Silence filled the room.

„I hope you remember Leah Broderick,“ he said. „She was my daughter. She’s dead.“

„I didn’t kill her.“ This defiant little moan from Clarence Terrill. He turned to look at the man who’d defiled his child. Unremorseful until the bitter end.

He lifted the gun and pulled the trigger and Clarence Terrill was defiant no more. He turned to Simpson who was sobbing, begging for mercy. „And you portrayed her as a whore, stripping away what little self-esteem she had left.“ Another shot, and Simpson went limp. „There’s your mercy.“ He turned to Hillman who could only stare back in terror.

„And you, Judge Hillman. I perhaps hold you at greatest fault of all. You swore to uphold the law, but you abused it. In the weeks that I’ve thought about this day, I planned to hold a mock trial where I would be the judge. But there’s no point to such theatrics. I’m finished.“ With no further ado, he ended the judge’s life with far more mercy than the man deserved.

He was so tired. But he had one more letter to write. He looked at the gun he held in his hand, smelled the acrid odor of discharged powder. Then he’d join Leah.

Saturday, February 28,

2:00 P.M.

Through all the horror of the past week and a half, Abe had never seen Kristen looking so fragile. She sat on her sofa, so pale. A phone call to Kaplan’s town sheriff confirmed that Kaplan was indeed dead. His wife had found him savagely beaten to death in his own garage. The local authorities had thought it a robbery gone wrong. But what had seemed the final blow to Kristen’s composure was finding out Kaplan’s wife had found her child standing at the garage entrance, in shock. What the child had seen, nobody knew because she’d withdrawn, saying nothing. But there were prints this time. Bloody prints everywhere. He’d cracked. Their killer had finally cracked.

Kristen was hanging on to her own control by a slim, fragile thread.

Gingerly he sat next to her, put his arm around her shoulders. But she didn’t melt into him. She sat rigid, staring straight ahead. „Kristen, what can I do for you?“

„I don’t know.“ Her eyes closed. „I am so tired, Abe.“

„I know you are, honey. But he’s made a bad mistake this time. We’ll catch him soon and this whole thing will be over.“ He rubbed her back with the flat of his palm. „We’ll go someplace warm and forget any of this happened.“

She said nothing and he groped for a new topic, for anything that would reanimate her face. She was scaring him. „The service was beautiful, wasn’t it?“ he murmured. „Sean and Ruth were so happy.“ If anything she stiffened. „I thought about my son today.“ She turned at that, looking up at him, her eyes so full of pain, it nearly broke his heart. „I guess you were thinking about your daughter. Savannah.“

„Abe…“

He cupped her face, gently sweeping his thumb along the curve of her cheek. Back and forth. „Then I thought about us, standing in front of the church, holding our child.“

But what he’d thought would give her ease had the opposite effect. She lurched to her feet and backed away from him, her eyes panicked. „Stop.“

Standing, he reached for her, but she took another few stumbling steps back. „Abe, stop.“ She closed her eyes. „I need to tell you something and I need you to listen because it’s hard to say.“

They were the same words she’d used last night, before revealing the truth about her child. His heart chilled and he slowly lowered his hands. „All right.“

She visibly schooled her features, straightened her posture and clasped her hands behind her back and all at once she was the woman he’d met ten days before. Her protective shields reerected. Untouchable. „I won’t have any more children.“

Her dispassionate words were a kick to the gut, sucking the air from his lungs. He could say nothing at first, then made himself breathe. „Kristen, I know you feel guilty about placing your daughter up for adoption, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be a good mother.“

Her eyes flickered wildly and for a moment he thought she’d laugh hysterically. But her control was secure and when she spoke it was calmly. „No, Abe, you don’t understand. I’m unable. I’m…“ She swallowed hard. „After the baby was born, they took her away and I thought my life was over. I’d given away something so precious… But I told myself that I was still young. I might have another someday. Then six weeks later I came back for the follow-up exam and they found I’d developed a growth.“ Her lips twisted, but her posture remained controlled. „Kaplan had done more than rape and impregnate me. He apparently gave me a nasty little STD that over the months of my pregnancy had become cancerous.“

His face must have shown his shock because she threw him a brittle smile. „Don’t worry. It’s all gone, along with half of my cervix.“

Abe blindly felt for the sofa behind him and sat on the arm. He drew a breath and searched for the words that she would believe. That he believed himself.

It doesn’t matter. Of course it did.

We can adopt. The irony there was just too much.

For a moment he grieved the loss. He’d never see her round and full with his child. He’d never splay his hands over her round belly and feel his child kick. He’d never stand beside her as she battled through labor. He’d never stand in front of the church holding his own child while his family and friends looked on in joy. All the things he’d watched Sean and Ruth do over the years. All those things he’d never do. They’d never do.

Because in the end, it would still be the two of them. Whether they had a house full of children or not. Because in the end, he loved her, and she’d said she loved him.

Kristen watched him, watched the truth sink in. Watched his dream slowly die in his eyes. And as he sat there, saying nothing, she could watch him no longer. She turned and walked to the bedroom to stare out the window.

Abe watched her go, so terribly afraid he’d say the wrong thing that he was unable to say anything at all. His cell phone trilled, echoing in the dreadful quiet.

„Reagan.“

„Detective Reagan, this is the nurse from the ICU at County.“

His heart sank. Vincent must have died. He didn’t know how Kristen could take yet another blow. „I remember you. What’s happened to Vincent?“

„Mr. Potremski’s condition is unchanged. The reason I’m calling is that young man has returned. Timothy. He wants to see Vincent.“

Abe jumped to his feet. „Can you keep him there for a half hour?“

„I’ll try.“

Abe ran back to the bedroom, then halted abruptly. Kristen stood at the window, hunched over, her arms wrapped around herself. From where he stood he could see the violent trembles that wracked her body. She was at the end of her rope. She didn’t need to be dragged all over the city in this state. He knew by now how important control was to Kristen. The appearance of control, anyway. She needed to stay here, where she could regroup. He’d talk to this Timothy himself, then he’d come back and they’d talk and he’d make her believe that everything would be all right.

„Kristen, I need to go out for a little while.“ He made his voice as gentle as he could. „I’ll call Aidan to come stay with you until I come back.“ He crossed the room and stood behind her, wishing he knew what to say or do. In the end he just drew her into his arms and held her there while she trembled and quaked. „Lie down and rest. And then we’ll talk.“

She nodded and allowed him to lead her to the bed, where she sat. So quietly. He tipped her face up and brushed a kiss across her lips and left her staring after him.

Saturday, February 28,

2:15 p.m.

Of course it mattered. Kristen had only to look at the desolation on his face to know it mattered. Still she’d waited for him to say it was all right. That he loved her anyway, that they could still be happy. But he hadn’t said any of those things.

He didn’t say it was over, either. Logic started to break through, but logic was a poor substitute for the words she’d so desperately needed to hear. With a sigh she got up and walked through the house. It was so quiet. For the first time in a week, she was alone in her own house. It was unnerving.

„Here, kitty, kitty,“ she said, just to hear the sound of her own voice. It had always been this quiet before she’d met Abe Reagan, but she hadn’t realized before just how much she despised it. She wished she was back at Kyle and Becca’s, with its blaring TVs and constant activity. She jumped when Nostradamus rubbed against her legs. She hadn’t seen either cat since she’d torn down the wall. „Let’s go get you some dinner.“

But she had no kitchen. She looked around and for the first time wondered what had become of her dishes. She supposed Annie had stored them somewhere. So she cleaned out a potpourri dish and filled it with cat kibble. Then wondered what to do next.

The muted strains of her cell phone caught her ear and she grabbed it from her purse, her heart stuttering. The last call to her phone had been a threat, and even though the church hall was filled with cops, the Reagans would be at risk until this whole nightmare was over. „Kristen Mayhew.“

„Miss Mayhew, you don’t know me, but my name is Dr. Porter. I’m with the Lake County Coroner’s Office. I was told you were searching for Leah Broderick.“

Her pulse scrambling, Kristen sat down at her desk and pulled out a notepad. Lake County was where they’d found the Worth shack along with the sniper’s practice paraphernalia. „Yes, we are. What can you tell me?“

„Well, I signed her death certificate on December 27 of last year. It was a suicide.“

Kristen sighed. „That doesn’t surprise me at this point. Can you tell me who made the identification and arranged for burial?“

„It was her father, I remember that.“ Kristen heard a file cabinet opening in the background. „I’ll check his name.“ That was strange, she thought. She distinctly remembered Leah’s mother as a single parent. Still, it was worth a try…

„Was it Robert Barnett by chance? Or maybe someone named Worth?“

„No, I know that wasn’t it. Hold on… Here it is. Owen Madden.“

Kristen’s hand went limp, the pen rolling out of her grasp. Instant denial sprang from her lips. „No, that can’t be right.“

„I can assure you it is.“ He sounded offended. „I remember him well. I did the ID by closed-circuit video because the body was so disfigured. He stood there as stoic as a Marine.“

For a moment Kristen could only stare, her breath coming fast and shallow. Owen. It simply wasn’t possible.

My God. „Um, thank you, Dr. Porter. I’m sorry, this is just a bit of a shock.“ A bit? She struggled not to hyperventilate. „Thank you.“

„I made a copy of his photo ID,“ Porter said. „I can fax you a copy if you like.“

„Yes, thank you.“ She gave Porter her fax number. „Thank you for calling me.“

Her heart now pounding frantically, Kristen closed her phone. I have to think. Think.

Owen. How could it be true?

At this point, how could it not?

„I have to call Abe,“ she murmured and flipped her phone open with shaking hands.

„Maybe later,“ a gravelly voice said from behind her and before she could scream, one large hand had covered her mouth while another grabbed her cell phone and pulled her back against a rock-hard body. „For now, just shut up and do as I say.“

Kristen struggled, but the man was big and strong. She thought of Vincent and Kyle and knew she would be next. Where was Mclntyre?

„Stop struggling,“ he bit out, „or you’ll be sorry.“

She thought of her new gun, safely stored in her desk drawer. She might as well not have it at all. She wrenched, trying to kick backward and the hand lifted from her mouth and cuffed the side of her head.

Blinking, she saw stars. Still, she drew a breath and screamed as loud as she could. Miraculously, the front door opened and there stood Aidan, key in hand. His face registered shock, then he leaped, pulling the man to the floor and setting her free. Kristen backed away, stopping when the edge of her desk bit into her back. Horrified she watched the men fight.

Police. Call the police. The man had her cell phone so she grabbed the land line. It was dead, the cord cut, so she grabbed her gun instead. The two men rolled across the floor, grappling for control, then Aidan gave a mighty shove and pushed the intruder into a wall. Not thinking, she acted. She squeezed the trigger, again and again and again and the man slumped to the floor. Aidan raised up on all fours and stared, breathing hard. She seemed frozen in place, her arms still extended, the gun still pointing at the wall where a line of blood now streaked her blue-striped wallpaper.

„My God.“ Aidan pushed himself to his feet and came to her, gently taking the gun from her hands. He pulled her into his arms and together they took great shuddering breaths. Then his body jerked and Aidan crumpled to the floor. As if disconnected from her body, she watched him fall, then looked up, taking in shoes, trousers, an overcoat. A hand holding a small club. And the annoyed face of Drake Edwards.

„If you want something done right,“ he muttered. Bending, he scooped her gun from the floor, pulled Aidan’s from its holster, then rolled the dead body and took the intruder’s gun from the waistband at his back. „Miss Mayhew, you’re coming with me.“

„No.“

He looked amused. „No? And how do you propose to stop me?“

Her heart hammering like a wild thing, she took a step back, then cried out when he grabbed her arm. The phone rang, the double ring of her fax machine, and they both turned. The first man had disabled her phone, but not her fax. Fascinated, Edwards watched as the printer spit out the page.

Kristen’s stomach turned over. It was Owen’s driver’s license. Edwards’s brows shot up in surprise and his mouth curved in a wicked smile. „Working overtime, Miss Mayhew? Is this someone special?“

Her mouth dry, Kristen couldn’t think of a reply.

„I knew you were close, but is this the cigar? The grand prize?“ He folded the paper and slid it in his pocket. „Come. I make a practice never to kill cops. A dead cop makes me a lot of enemies and cops never forget. However, if you make so much as a peep, I’ll make an exception for him.“ With a last desperate look at Aidan’s unconscious form, she helplessly walked out of her house to the cruiser parked at the curb. Behind the wheel sat a stranger in uniform. The stranger saluted her with a mocking smile. Where was Mclntyre?

Drake Edwards was kidnapping her in broad daylight in a police cruiser. Her eyes shot up to his face in disbelief, finding his mouth curved in genuine amusement. „So many comings and goings at your house lately, Miss Mayhew. So many bodyguards. Nobody will notice one more.“ He was right. Nobody noticed anything. Edwards opened the rear driver’s side door, and she saw the slumped form of Mclntyre in the front passenger seat, blood trickling from one ear. But his chest rose and fell, so at least he was still alive. Edwards bent down, his mouth next to her ear. „Don’t try anything or those two little boys riding bicycles down the street will die.“ She watched the children ride by and knew Edwards would do as he promised. He was Conti’s main henchman, rumored to be a sick bastard. But the authorities had never been able to find evidence to make a charge stick. She wondered if they would now, or if she herself would become just one of the rumors.

„Where are you taking me?“ she asked when he climbed in.

„You have an appointment, Miss Mayhew. I’m sure you don’t want to be late.“

Saturday, February 28,

2:15 p.m.

Mia returned to the church hall, Miss Keene’s high school annual under her arm, seeking Spinnelli. „Abe’s not back from talking to that man at the hospital?“

Spinnelli shook his head. „Not yet. He said he called you and gave you the update on the latest.“ He shook his head. „Poor Kristen.“

Yeah, after everything else, and now a shock like this. She looked around with a frown. „Where is Kristen?“

„Back at her house resting. Abe’s brother went over there to sit with her.“

„Well, at least she’s not alone.“

„What did you find out at the hat lady’s? You were gone forever.“

Mia sighed, opening the annual to the page she’d marked. „This is him. Robert Barnett. I stopped by the art department and got them to mock up a picture of what he might look like forty years older.“ She showed him the sketch. „I’ve never seen him.“

„Neither have I,“ Spinnelli frowned. „I was hoping it would be the big ah-ha.“

„Me, too. We know he’s Genny O’Reilly’s son and the nephew of Paul Worth, the old guy in the nursing home, but other than that, I’m still stymied on the connection.“

„Hi.“ A young girl bounded up to them, a social smile on her face. „I’m supposed to mingle and make sure everyone has enough to eat. I’m Rachel.“ She scrutinized them. „And I bet you’re Mia and you’re Lieutenant Spinnelli.“

Mia needed no introduction to recognize Abe’s little sister. They had the same eyes. „It’s nice to meet you, Rachel. This is a nice party your family’s put on.“

„It’s okay. It would have been better with pizza.“ She looked curiously at the annual, then bent closer, her expression intent on the sketch. „Is that Kristen’s?“

Startled, Mia glanced up at Spinnelli, then back at Rachel. „Why would you ask that?“

She shrugged. „That looks like her friend.“

„You’ve seen this man?“ Mia exploded and Rachel’s eyes widened in alarm.

„I think so. Why?“

„Where did you meet him, honey?“ Spinnelli asked soothingly.

„He brought her a sandwich last week. I’d gone to see her at work and he was just leaving. His name was Owen something.“ She looked anxious. „Why?“

Mia grabbed her phone. „I need to call Abe.“ She grimaced when it went right to his voice mail. „He’s still in the ICU ward talking to Kristen’s friend Vincent. His phone’s off.“

„Call Kristen.“ Spinnelli was gesturing for Todd Murphy.

Kyle Reagan approached, frowning. „What’s wrong?“ He was a retired cop. He knew when something was up.

Mia clenched her teeth. „It’s just ringing. Dammit. Kristen’s not answering.“

Kyle grabbed the phone. „I’ll call Aidan.“ A few moments later, he paled. „He’s not answering either.“

Spinnelli pulled out his own phone and punched numbers furiously. „Send a unit out to ASA Mayhew’s house. Full sirens, as fast as possible.“

Spinnelli looked at Murphy and Kyle Reagan. „Keep everyone calm and keep them here. Mia, let’s go.“

Saturday, February 28,

2:45 p.m.

The phone rang, surprising him. No one ever called him at home, except for telemarketers. In fact, the last legitimate call he’d received had been from the Lake County Sheriff’s Office about Leah’s suicide. Setting aside his pen, he answered. „Hello?“

„Mr. Madden, this is Zoe Richardson. I take it you’ve heard of me?“

His jaw clenched, his hand tightening over the telephone. „I have.“

„Well, the jig’s up, Mr. Madden. I know who you are.“

Don’t panic. „I don’t know what you’re talking about.“

She chuckled throatily. „That’s fine. I just wanted you to know I’m preparing tonight’s report. I’ve uncovered evidence that ASA Mayhew has a personal relationship with the vigilante killer and she’s directing his efforts. It should be a fascinating piece.“

In spite of his fatigue, his blood started to pound. „You know that’s ludicrous. Kristen has done nothing wrong.“

„Perhaps, but her career was in jeopardy before. After this, no courtroom in the country will have her.“ Her voice grew clipped. „I’ll have a report on the air tonight, Mr. Madden, one way or another, if you catch my meaning. I can hide your face and disguise your voice. You can go right on doing your deeds, I just want an exclusive when you do. Do you have a pen?“

„Yes,“ he gritted.

„Good. Write down this address. I’ll be waiting.“

He flipped the page he’d been writing on and took down the address. „You’re filth.“

„Well, birds of a feather, Mr. Madden. Birds of a feather.“

He stared at the address, then made his decision. Kristen’s life would not be ruined by his actions. He ripped the paper from the notepad and stuffed it in his pocket Then opened the glass cover of his gun rack. He’d killed so many. At this point, what was one more?

She handed him the cell phone. „How’d I do?“

Drake smiled. „Perfect, just perfect“ He slipped a hundred-dollar bill in her coat pocket. „Buy yourself something nice. And be sure to give your mother my love.“

„Thanks, Uncle Drake.“ She rose up and kissed his cheek.

Jacob waited until Drake’s niece was out of the limo. „She has promise, that one.“

„She does.“ He smirked. „It’s almost showtime, Jacob.“

Saturday, February 28,

2:45 p.m.

Mia and Spinnelli burst into Kristen’s house. Jack and his men were searching for any clue as to where she’d been taken. The room was a shambles and blood stained her blue-striped wallpaper. Controlling her panic, Mia knelt next to Abe’s brother and pressed her fingers to his throat. His pulse was steady. Thank God.

„Which one of you called me?“ Spinnelli demanded. An officer stepped forward.

„I did, sir. I found Officer Reagan unconscious and called for an ambulance. This other guy has no ID and he’s dead. Reagan’s gun is gone.“

Mia looked up. „And Mclntyre?“

„No sign of him or his cruiser. We’ve searched the house and the shed in the back. He doesn’t respond to radio communication. One of the neighbors saw Miss Mayhew leave in the cruiser. She said there was a big man with her. Hat hid his face. Nobody else saw anything.“

Spinnelli swore. „Did you ask her why she didn’t call the police?“

„She said there’d been so many police around the last week, she didn’t give it a second thought,“ the officer said grimly.

„Did anybody hear a damn gun?“ Mia demanded.

„She said there’d been so much pounding here the last few days, she didn’t think a thing about that either.“

Jack’s face was tight. „I checked with Aidan’s CO. He carries a Glock.38. This guy was killed with a.22.“

„Kristen just bought a.22.“ Mia hit the redial on her phone, with no more success than the last ten times. „Shit, where’s Abe?“

„Did you call the hospital?“ Jack asked as Spinnelli knelt to check the dead body.

„They’re looking for him,“ Spinnelli said. „Apparently this Timothy guy was terrified when he saw Abe and they had to remove him from the ICU. Abe’s got him somewhere else, calming him down so he can talk to him.“

Mia tilted her head, listening. „Quiet. That’s Kristen’s cell phone.“

Spinnelli pulled the dead guy’s coat, tipping him over. „It’s in his pocket.“ He flipped open Kristen’s phone. „Yes?… This is her phone… This is Lieutenant Marc Spinnelli of CPD. Who are you?“ He listened, then jumped to his feet. „Was there anything on the fax machine when you guys came in?“

The officers looked at one another. „No, sir.“

„No,“ Spinnelli said, „she didn’t get it. Can you send it again? Quickly? Thanks.“ He looked at Mia. „That was the Lake County coroner. He called Kristen with the name of the man who ID’d Leah Broderick’s body, then faxed her a photo ID. It was Owen Madden.“

Mia closed her eyes. „Then she knows.“

„Yeah,“ Jack said. „And whoever has her knows, too.“

„And assuming that’s Conti…“ Spinnelli didn’t finish the thought.

He didn’t have to. Conti wanted the killer. Now he had him. And he had Kristen, too.