A Serial Affair
Natalie Dunbar

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedication:

This book is dedicated to the women who want to have it all: good man, exciting job, love, family and a good career. See it, believe it, then strive to achieve it.

Contents

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Acknowledgments:

I want to thank my husband, Chet, and my boys for all

their love and support while I took time away from them

to write this book, was irritable when the muse quit

working, and didn’t get to things as planned.

Prologue

Out by the pool, Elliot Washington sipped his mixed drink and grinned in anticipation of a night of hot sex. Clad only in a pair of swim trunks, he relaxed on a chaise longue. There wouldn’t be many more nights like this because he would be getting married soon. Once the honeymoon phase with his blue-blooded bride was over, he’d be back in business, though.

He glanced at his watch. It was getting pretty late. He was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it and that was a lot sooner than this. How long was he going to have to wait for satisfaction? “What’s going on?” he asked his companion.

The words that came out of his mouth bore no resemblance to those he’d formed in his mind. He felt weird. His gaze fell on the glass in his hand. A third of his Zombie remained. The glass on the table was empty. He could usually drink at least four before he flew this high.

His companion removed the glass from Elliot’s numb fingers with a gloved hand and placed it on the table beside the other. Then his companion leaned over him, the long blond hair brushing Elliot’s chest and stomach, tickling him. There was something distorted about his view of his surroundings and his companion, but he couldn’t quite grasp what it was. Elliot gazed around him, enjoying the air of unreality. Then he saw the wicked-looking knife in his companion’s hand.

“This is for all of us, for what you did. You see, you didn’t really get away with it.”

The words fell on Elliot’s ears like a benediction.

The knife rose.

Gasping, Elliot tried to scream, to get away, anything but keep his body frozen to the chair. A whimper escaped his lips as the knife fell again and again….

Chapter 1

The whites of Marina Santos’ mahogany-brown eyes shone bright in the bathroom mirror as she skillfully thickened her lashes with mascara. Quickly lining her lids, she filled in her eyebrows. Grumbling in frustration, she gave her thick hair one last impatient brush. Why hadn’t she been blessed with easy-care hair like her cousins Janisa and Carmen? Maybe her hair would be easier to manage with a permanent.

Her full, berry-colored lips twisted ruefully. With the dense, moisture-laden July air, her shoulder-length hair would be even thicker before she got to work. She would have pulled it back, but she hated the drab, toned-down, buttoned-up look that most sported at her job. Wearing her hair down was one of the small ways she rebelled.

Straightening the casual navy pantsuit that she’d brightened with a multicolored camisole, she inserted a pair of ruby studs into her ears. In the background she could hear the Channel 9 news. Brushing lint off one sleeve of her jacket, she froze as she listened.

“Early this morning the body of twenty-six year-old Elliot Washington was found floating in the pool at the Hartford Hotel. The family has been notified. The cause of death has not been determined and police are not releasing details, but there are several reports that the body had been mutilated.

Washington was last seen partying with friends on the North End last night. You may recall that Washington was a close friend of Mayor Dansinger’s daughter, Jade. He was a press favorite at several events featuring the mayor and his family.

Police are asking that anyone with information that might lead to an arrest contact them.”

Marina stepped out of the bathroom in her low-heeled sensible shoes in time to see a television screen close-up of a tall blond man shown with the mayor’s daughter. She recognized him from stories she’d seen on television and in the newspapers. A stockbroker, he was young, good-looking, and known to be a bit wild. Washington appeared often on the arm of the mayor’s daughter and many speculated that things might have been heating up.

Eyes narrowing, Marina reached for her purse. Working under Lowell Talbot, the FBI’s violent crimes expert, had so honed her instincts that she’d never look at life the way she used to. Now she saw patterns in everything. Leaping in anticipation of a new puzzle, the analytical part of her brain took in the news information, dissected it and searched for comparisons with things she’d seen and heard.

Reaching back in her memory, she recalled reading about a similar homicide several months ago. Hadn’t there been another young man found dead and mutilated? Yeah. They’d found his mutilated body in a stall at Union Station. And she was betting that he hadn’t been the first. It usually took three similarly patterned murders before a murderer was considered a serial killer. Could Chicago have a serial killer on the loose?

Washington’s body had been mutilated, according to the reporter. Just what did they mean by “mutilated”? Working with Talbot she’d seen it all. Murder and mutilation were disturbing enough, but in general the damage was more visceral when a serial killer was involved. The victims were usually women. That made the possibilities in this instance even more intriguing. If her instincts were on target, this time a group of men was in danger.

Settling the strap of the purse on her shoulder and palming her car keys, she exited the front door of her remodeled brownstone. With the alarm set, she carefully locked the door. She took the steps in brilliant sunlight, then opened the door of her red sports car, at which point she allowed herself to wonder. Has anyone else even noticed the two murders enough to tie them together? Of course, the Chicago Police Department had noticed, but that wouldn’t be on the news. Getting the local population all excited with the news wouldn’t be smart anyway.

Settling on the seat and buckling the safety belt, she savored the sound of the engine roaring to life, then took off in a squeal of tires.

By the time she’d parked her car and made it to her office at the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime, she knew something was up. Everyone seemed unusually busy as she’d passed on her way to her cubicle.

Scanning the office, she still didn’t have a clue what was up. Some of her co-workers had been distant ever since she’d landed a promotion in the afterglow of helping Lowell Talbot solve a high-profile murder case. Marina straightened her shoulders. She’d earned that promotion and she’d be damned if she’d apologize for it.

Her boss’s young blond secretary, Ilene, was hovering near her desk.

Marina checked her watch. She was still fifteen minutes early. She slowed her stride, sparing her boss’s office a quick, surreptitious glance. The door was closed.

Marina greeted Ilene as she began to put her things in her desk.

“Keep the jacket on. Spaulding wants to see you in his office as soon as you get settled,” Ilene announced.

Marina looked up from locking her purse in the bottom drawer. “What’s going on?”

Ilene shrugged, her expression giving discreet evidence of the battle within her. She didn’t like Marina, but was still the kind of person who enjoyed knowing things others didn’t and controlling the flow of information. “I think you’re going to get a new assignment,” she admitted.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Marina prompted, slanting her a glance.

Nostrils flaring, Ilene’s gaze flicked over her. “This one is big. You’ll either fall on your face or prove you deserved that promotion.”

“I got the promotion because I’ve already more than proved myself, but I’m down for a new assignment.” Marina straightened, ready to squash any smart-assed comment Ilene might make. Still, she swallowed at the smirk on Ilene’s face.

“We’ll see.” Turning abruptly, Ilene headed back to her desk.

Marina hesitated, torn between rushing into her boss’s office to hear the news as soon as possible and enjoying the last minute of peace she was likely to get for some time. She opted for the momentary peace and headed for the coffee room with her cup. Three gulps of hot coffee later she knocked at her boss’s door.

“Santos!” Ross Spaulding called, beckoning her into the room, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Inclining her head in acknowledgment, she took a seat at his conference table. “What is it, sir?”

“We got a call from the mayor’s office this morning,” he announced. “Dansinger is asking us to work with the Chicago Police Department on a special task force.”

“And how does Chicago’s finest feel about us encroaching on their territory?” she quipped.

“Damn lucky for a change!” Spaulding grinned almost affably. “With the economy being so rough right now, crime has almost doubled in Chicago. The C.P.D. has got just about all they can handle.” The smile faded as he eyed her critically. “Been paying attention to the news lately?”

“What kind of violent crime are we talking?” she asked.

“You’re the expert. What do you think? Why do you think you’re sitting in the hot seat?” he countered.

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t wanted to draw conclusions since the request had come from the mayor’s office and she’d been assigned the case, but deep in her gut she knew. “Are we talking Elliot Washington and the other man being found dead, their bodies mutilated, within a four-or five-month period?”

“Bingo.” Spaulding weighed her with his eyes. She’d gotten points for that answer. “Washington’s death has the mayor’s family pretty upset. Jade Dansinger thought she was in love with him apparently.”

“Was there another incident, another body?” she asked.

Spaulding’s beefy fist choked the life out of an ink pen as his head inclined in answer to her question. “You’ll work with one of their homicide lieutenants and you’ll have resources available from the Chicago Police Department and the FBI. I don’t have to tell you how important this case is for us, and to you and your career?”

“No, sir. I will find the killer.” Marina spoke with cool confidence but inside she was bouncing off the walls with nervous excitement. Spaulding hadn’t promoted her to his section. She’d been promoted and dumped on him by his management. Since then, they’d both been trying to make the best of it. Her fingers tightened on the edges of the chair beneath the table.

He made a rough grinding sound in the back of his throat. “I’ve had agents waste valuable time and taxpayer dollars wrestling with the C.P.D. over jurisdictional issues and one-upmanship. Don’t even think of letting the fact that you’ll be working with the C.P.D. keep you from solving this case as soon as possible, understand?”

“Yes, sir. I can work with them,” she said quickly, hoping her new partner wouldn’t be a complete ass.

Spaulding’s piercing gaze sized her up once more. He nodded as if she’d passed some test. “You’re due at the Twenty-fourth District Town Hall Station on Halstead at ten-thirty, so get moving. Talbot wants you to check in with him before you leave.”

Marina thanked him and left the office. Outside, she let herself breathe. She could do this. She would do this. The prospect actually excited her.

At his desk in the Homicide Unit, finishing some paperwork, Lieutenant Reed Crawford’s jaw clenched, as his temper shot up like a rocket. Two desks over, Lieutenant Warwick was meeting with a community activist and a local reporter about the high-profile murder of one of the Chicago Bears’ assistant coaches. Evidently, there was going to be an article in the paper. That didn’t bother him so much. What burned Reed the most was that somehow Warwick had scooped him again by getting the assignment from Shepherd. When had that happened? Better yet, how?

If it was just about the work, he could deal with it, but he and Warwick were the top candidates for a promotion. If Reed just took it as the luck of the draw, then in a few months he’d probably be standing on the sidelines as Warwick accepted the promotion they’d both been pushing for. Reed was determined to use all his skills and abilities to serve the community and lead the department to greater glory in its war against crime.

After postponing his dreams of becoming an FBI agent to stick close to home to help care for his ailing mother, he’d discovered that he really liked police work. The competition for the promotions was so heated and contentious he’d learned to get in line early and make sure the folks in the head shed knew just who he was.

Reed stood, placing the reports he’d been finishing back into folders and pushing the folders into a neat pile. He headed for the captain’s office, more than aware that it was time to look out for his own interests. He’d made lieutenant on his own and he’d get the next promotion the same way.

Ean Shepherd was at his desk, chomping on an unlit cigar. Reed knew it was a bad sign. Shepherd had been trying to stop smoking all year. For the most part, he’d succeeded, but when stressed or under pressure Shepherd went back to chomping. The one concession was that most of the time it stayed unlit. “What do you want, Crawford?” he barked, spotting Reed in the doorway.

Having worked for Shepherd for two years, Reed immediately realized that he should have waited to approach the man. “I wanted to talk assignments, but if this is a bad time…”

“It ain’t gonna get any better,” Shepherd snapped. “From the mayor’s office to the brass, I’ve had my ass chewed so many times today it’s medium rare. You wait much longer I won’t have any ass left, so get in here.”

Stepping into the office and closing the door, Reed dropped down into the seat in front of the desk.

“So what’s got your jaw so tight?”

“Warwick’s working the Chicago Bears’ case and I’m still off in the weeds with a desk full of crap. Captain, I want that promotion. I need an assignment that will give me some of the same exposure and experience as he’s getting.”

Shepherd eyed him speculatively. Then he nodded. “Mmm-hmm.” A grin formed on both sides of the cigar in Shepherd’s mouth. “Crawford, I’ve got just the job for you.”

This was too easy. The sudden change in the captain made Reed do a double take. “Sir?”

Shepherd threw the soggy cigar into the trash can and tilted back in his chair. “One of the reasons they’ve been raining down the love on me is that it looks like we’ve got a serial killer on our hands. With the caseload we’ve got right now, I don’t have any of my most experienced guys available to take it, but the mayor and the chief of police want a task force to take it on now. That’s where you come in, Crawford. The mayor’s already asked the FBI to help us out. They’re providing an agent who’s also a violent crimes expert. You’ll have department resources and those of the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime—NCAVC—and the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program—VICAP—behind you. That’s why I can put you on this task force so that you can get the experience and a bit of the limelight. What do you think?”

Reed had never had an opportunity to work with the FBI, but knew from some of his co-workers that the agents could be an arrogant lot. On the other hand, he did know one agent, Marina Santos, who was smart, fiery and hot, and as far as you could get from arrogant. They’d almost had a thing until she’d drop-kicked him in favor of a Puerto Rican guy.

As the silence grew uncomfortably long, he pushed his thoughts past Marina. This was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to pass up. Besides, what were the chances of Marina, out of all the agents working crime in the local office, being assigned to work the task force with him? He spoke confidently. “I want to take on the assignment, sir. I think I could do us proud.”

Captain Shepherd flashed him an evil grin and tapped his fingers on the oak desk. “You’d better. I want you to catch this killer before he or she kills again. And don’t get tight-assed about working with the Feds. Some of them are okay guys and gals.”

Reed nodded. “Yes, sir. Can you give me some detail on this serial killer case?”

“Someone’s out there killing young men and mutilating the bodies. We’ve got two bodies identified right now and suspect there’s more. The latest victim was Elliot Washington, a friend of the mayor’s daughter. His body was found this morning floating in the pool over at the Hartford Hotel. Both men were in their mid to late twenties. Both had been stabbed and castrated.”

Ouch! Reed swallowed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. This was definitely an interesting case. He could only imagine the motivation behind someone taking the time to murder and castrate someone.

The captain studied him, looking for a sign of weakness. “Still think you can do this task force deal?”

Reed nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m ready to roll on it. Just give me the names and I’ll pull the files.”

“No need for that.” The captain handed him two folders. The one on top had Washington’s name on it. “You can do a search on the system to see if you can come up with the others.”

“Thank you.” Reed accepted the files and rose.

“One other thing, Crawford. Since Farrell is still in the hospital, you can use his office as the task force office for now. I had Betty put away his things.”

Thanking him again, Reed got out of his office. He was excited at the prospect of putting a face to whoever killed Washington and the other guy, and catching the killer before he could kill again. The only potential bug on his butt was the FBI agent he’d have to work with. He’d heard enough stories to make his hands curl into fists.

On the way back to his desk Reed tried to relax. If the FBI sent a snot-nosed, tight-assed wonder boy, he’d just have to make him see the light. He could do that, couldn’t he? He’d show him that the C.P.D. was truly a world-class team.

Chapter 2

Marina drove over to the Twenty-fourth District Town Hall Station on Halstead and sweet-talked the guard into letting her park in the police lot. She could have gone inside first, shown her badge and gotten a permit, but there was nowhere close to park and she wasn’t taking any chances with someone trying to steal her sports car. That was her baby.

Inside the station, she straightened her shoulders, flashed her badge at the officer on the desk and informed him that she had arrived for the task force.

He stared at her, obviously having a hard time lifting his gaze above her breasts. Marina’s breasts were 38Ds, so she got that a lot, but it didn’t mean she had to like the extra attention. “Officer, is there a problem?” she asked, hardening her tone.

He immediately lifted his gaze to make eye contact. “No. No, ma’am, no problem.” Then he checked a list and directed her to a room around the corner and across the hall.

Deeper into what she’d jokingly named the Den of Testosterone, Marina peered into the small, smoked-glass window on the office where she’d been directed. With his back to her, a caramel-skinned man with a head full of thick dark hair sat at a desk, his head bent over a file. She guessed that he was her new partner on the task force, already hard at work. She fleetingly thought those wide muscular shoulders and well-shaped head looked familiar. She opened the door and stepped in, dragging her laptop in the rolling case behind her. “Good morning, I’m Marina Santos and I’ve been assigned to the task force.”

At the sound of her voice he lifted his head and turned around, recognizing her instantly. “Marina?”

“Reed?” Forcing air through her lungs, Marina felt like she’d stepped through a time warp. She gazed into those golden-brown eyes, aware that Reed Crawford was as surprised but not particularly as happy to see her. She knew him, had gone to college with him, even kissed that full mouth a time or two. She’d also been accepted at the FBI academy along with him, but he’d had to opt out due to his mother’s illness.

Other than deciding not to make him a boyfriend last year, what had she done to deserve that look? If she hadn’t known better, she’d have said it hurt her feelings. She still saw him every other month at a gathering of friends and he always seemed as friendly as ever.

“So you’re the violent crime expert the FBI’s assigned to the task force?” he asked, as if he still wasn’t quite ready to believe it.

“That’s what I just said,” she confirmed a bit too brightly as she pulled out the chair at the desk next to his.

“So, how’ve you been?” he asked, recovering quickly.

“I’m fine.” She turned to confront him. “But you look…disappointed. Why?”

Golden-brown eyes made serious contact with hers. She experienced a physical jolt that she felt all over, almost as if she’d been pushed by all the energy in that gaze. Reed had depths she’d never taken the time to explore.

“To be frank, I’m not disappointed,” he began with a glint of amusement in his eyes, “but I was sort of expecting one of the guys, an up-and-coming special agent?”

Marina wasn’t going to drop the subject. “You already know I got promoted recently, but I’ve still got a ways to go. You got everything right except the guy part,” she pressed.

His gaze assessed her, taking her in as a whole. Then he nodded. “Yeah, right. If you’re wondering if I have a problem with you working on this task force because you’re female or because we’re friends, forget it. Just don’t expect me to kiss your ass. Okay?”

“Okay, but don’t be surprised if you piss me off and I tell you to kiss my ass anyway.” Marina grinned.

Reed chuckled, shaking his head.

She’d made her point, he’d put her in her place and she’d managed a good comeback. “How’s Trudy?” Marina asked, her tone softening.

Something in his posture eased. “Ma’s doing a lot better. She’s fine as long as we keep taking care of her. Ron and I take turns fixing her meals, testing her blood sugar and giving her the medication and shots. She goes to an activity center during the day where she’s taking a couple of classes.” Reed rocked his chair back and forth. “You know, she asks about you all the time.”

“Really? What do you tell her?” Her question hung on the air for several moments while she imagined several nasty explanations he could have used.

His expression was calm, but there was a darkness in his eyes that made her cringe and feel guilty. Reed answered in an easy tone did not match what she saw in his eyes. “I’ve told her that you’ve moved on, and that you’ve been busy with your career. She wants to see you, so she can congratulate you on your promotion.”

Marina was almost certain that he was still angry with her about the way she’d ended things. She shouldn’t care, but she did. Whether she and Reed ever got together as a couple or not, she genuinely liked him as a person. He could be provocative and mysterious, and irritating, but he was still a genuinely nice guy that she liked to be around.

“I’ll have to drop by to see her sometime,” she mumbled.

He was silent when he shot her a look of disbelief. “And what’s Javier up to?” he asked, referring to her dad.

“Javier is Javier.” She sighed dramatically, not wanting go into the details of how her amorous father was inexplicably without a love interest for the first time in years. He had been driving Marina crazy with his determination to spend more time with her. She abruptly changed the subject. “Where’s the rest of the team hiding out?”

“I am the rest of the team.” He watched her take the computer out of her case and set it on the desk. Then he showed her the socket to plug in her power cord. “You know I work the Homicide Unit and I’m good. I have access to their resources and anything the C.P.D. has to offer. Where’s the rest of your FBI team?”

This time she smiled. “You’re looking at it. I’ve got access to the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime database and the VICAP and anything else we’ll need from the FBI.”

“We’ve got everything we need to bring down the killer.” Reed returned the smile and this time it was close to the charming, earnest one she was used to seeing. “If we really push it, maybe we can chase the killer down before the trail grows cold. We need to leave in about thirty minutes. Jade Dansinger was too upset to talk to homicide detectives early this morning. I’ve been calling the mayor’s mansion to set up another interview. The okay came just a few minutes ago. We need to talk to her and her friends about last night and anything they may have seen or heard. I’ve already lined up interviews with several of her and Washington’s friends.”

Marina nodded. “How about the staff at the hotel?” she asked.

“Third-shift detectives on the scene this morning interviewed them.”

Hope surged within Marina that they would have another piece of the puzzle. “Did anyone see anything?”

“Not really. They knew that Washington was out at the pool with someone, but no one bothered to look. Apparently, Jade and Elliot often took late-night skinny-dips and paid the staff to give them their privacy. There’s actually a room at the back of the hotel with its own private pool.”

Marina expelled a puff of air. “So do they at least know if Washington was out there with a woman?”

Reed shook his head. “No. No one saw or heard a thing. Washington must not have cried out or struggled enough to draw attention.”

Marina considered his statement. “Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe the first blow incapacitated him or he was already pretty much out of it. I hope they took samples of his blood.”

Spearing her with a glance, Reed said, “Bring that nose down a bit. Our crew is one of the best. They got the blood samples, some DNA from the scene and prints from the chair he’d been sitting in and the ones next to it. The forensic team is doing their thing. We should have all of the results in a few days.”

Marina nodded. “I don’t suppose anyone found the murder weapon?”

“You dream big, don’t you?” Reed remarked.

“It was worth a try,” she murmured, settling into her chair. “I’ll just take a quick look at the files.”

While Reed checked on the database search he’d initiated earlier, Marina set up her computer and opened a new spreadsheet. Then she got her first look at the files.

One file was that of Elliot Washington, the guy she’d heard about on the morning news. The other file was for the young man identified as twenty-five-year-old elementary school teacher, Colton Edwards. His body had been found in the middle of an empty stall at Union Station.

Working violent crime with Talbot, she’d learned the hard way that murder was never pretty. Mentally bracing herself, Marina went through the crime scene photos. Her stomach quivered.

Someone had stabbed Washington repeatedly and unmanned him with butcher-block precision. She hadn’t heard that part on the news. Had Washington still been alive when his killer had done that? Marina hoped not because it seemed that the killer’s need to punish and degrade had been strong. Her stomach threatened to heave.

Momentarily looking away, she found Reed watching her.

“Pretty graphic, huh?”

Marina nodded. “I’ve seen worse, but looking at this stuff never gets easier.”

Reed’s gaze dropped back to the screen. “No, it doesn’t.”

She pointed to the stack of pictures. “Just examining the way the bodies were maimed, it appears that we’re dealing with a serial killer who’s also a sexual predator. There are several famous serial killer cases where men and young boys were abducted, assaulted and brutalized, maimed and killed. Leaving the severed organs near the victim’s body appears to be our killer’s signature, as in actions he does above and beyond his mode of operation. If this is the case, then our killer will do this to all of the victims.”

Reed secured Edwards’ file and paged through to the selection of pictures. The wounds to his body and the gruesome removal and placement of the organs was similar to what had been done to Washington. His girlfriend, his mother and his fifth-grade class had been devastated. They’d written the heart-wrenching letters in the file to the detective handling the case.

Forcing herself to swallow against the dryness in her throat, Marina moved on.

In Washington’s file she noted that he’d gone to her and Reed’s alma mater, Merriwhether University of Chicago. He’d obtained a degree in business administration. On impulse she checked Edwards’ file. Same college, only his degree was in education. Typing the information onto the new spreadsheet, she wondered if she’d already found the most important link. If so, did that mean that Reed qualified as a potential victim? At twenty-nine, he was a few years older than both men. Only time would tell if he, too, was in danger.

Reed checked his watch and stood. “We’ve got to get going.”

Opting to leave her laptop locked in the task force office, because it could be intimidating to some witnesses and a chore to keep up with, Marina grabbed her purse and followed him out.

“Did you notice that both victims went to Merriwhether?” she asked as they got into an unmarked blue Crown Victoria.

“Yeah,” Reed answered grudgingly as he backed out of the parking space and took off. “What’s your point?”

“I know that you and a lot of people went to Merriwhether, but until we get more facts about this killer and how he’s picking his victims, you should be careful.”

“So you think I’m in danger?”

She didn’t like the trace of amusement that crept into his voice. “Reed, this could be serious,” she insisted, feeling like a teacher cautioning a child bent on ignoring reason. “You’re only a couple of years older than Washington and Edwards.”

“Fact, but what else do I have in common with them?”

Marina’s teeth kneaded her bottom lip. “That’s the ten-million-dollar question.”

With a slight shrug, he accelerated and entered the freeway. “I don’t remember seeing them on campus and I never met either of them.”

He appeared to be dismissing her arguments. Folding her arms in front of her, she threw him annoyed glance.

Those impossibly long lashes of his were still as he concentrated on the road.

Marina turned to stare out the window at the Chicago countryside. Were all men so arrogant or just the ones she knew?

“Of course I plan to watch myself and stay on guard,” he said, breaking the sudden silence.

Turning from the window, she met his amused glance.

“Don’t take yourself so seriously,” he said. “The work we do can be depressing enough.”

“Don’t you try to diminish the importance of what’s going on here,” she replied without a trace of amusement. “I’d hate to lose you as a member of this task force.”

“Is that all?” he asked softly.

Of course it wasn’t all. He was still her friend and she didn’t want to lose him. “Well, you’ve been my friend for how long?” she asked, making eye contact and letting her voice trail off. “I’d hate to lose you period.”

Something in his rapt gaze made her swallow reflexively. Was he trying to make her say that she still had feelings for him? She did, but they were tangled in a maze of emotions, thoughts and feelings resulting from the choice she’d made. Being alone with him for the first time in ages forced her to see him in a new light and it made her uncomfortable.

She was relieved when he turned his attention back to the road. Opening some of the files they’d brought along, she immersed herself in the notes the third shift detectives had made while interviewing the hotel staff.

At the mayor’s home, they flashed their badges and were shown to a library filled with couches and chairs, a large cherry desk and antique shelves of leather-bound books. Marina and Reed took seats in the flower-patterned armchairs in front of the bay window. Sunlight filtered in, warming the air-conditioned room.

The staff informed them that the mayor was away on business, but due back soon, and that Mrs. Dansinger and Jade would be in momentarily. Then they offered tea. Translating that to mean that Jade would be a while, Marina accepted a cup.

Ten minutes later, Jade Dansinger and her mother, Laura, entered the library. Poor Jade’s eyes were red and swollen, her aquiline nose pinched and flushed. She hadn’t bothered with makeup. The black silk pantsuit did nothing for her white complexion and slim frame. Her eyes were pale blue. A fall of baby-fine, platinum-blond hair covered her face when she took a seat on the couch next to her mother. Her collagen-filled lips quivered as she answered their questions.

Elliot Washington had taken a call on his cell phone and left the party on the North End at about midnight to meet a friend. He’d told Jade that it was part of the big surprise he was planning for her and had insisted on going alone. He’d driven himself in his Jag. Marina made a note to look at the cell phone records C.P.D. had undoubtedly subpoenaed.

“Did Elliot seem upset or worried?” Reed asked, scribbling in his notebook.

“No, he was happy,” Jade answered in a voice clogged with tears.

“Did he say or give you the name of the friend he was meeting?” Reed continued.

“No.”

Marina added a question of her own. “Do you know if he was meeting a male or female friend?”

The mayor’s wife shot Marina a warning glance. Laura Dansinger was fiercely protective of her family. She handled the police and press with an iron hand.

Jade’s eyes widened with shock and outrage. “He wasn’t meeting another woman, if that’s what you mean! He wasn’t cheating on me.”

With a surreptitious glance at the others in the room, Marina noted that none of their faces reflected the same outrage. Most showed pity. Laura Dansinger’s chin dropped. She slowly brought it back up, meeting Marina’s gaze with pure strength of will.

“We were unofficially engaged,” Jade continued, showing them the four-carat diamond ring on her finger. “Daddy was going to announce it this week and Elliot was working on a surprise for me.”

“But you don’t really know who he met, do you?” Reed interjected calmly.

Jade’s voice cracked. “No.”

“Did he often spend the night at the Hartford Hotel?” Marina asked carefully.

Dabbing at her eyes, Jade took her time answering. “We…we went for lunch sometimes and after parties,” she admitted in a low voice.

Evening haven and afternoon delight? This more or less had been verified by some of the hotel staff’s statements to the police. Marina made a few notes in the little book she kept in her purse and kept her expression bland.

Reed looked up from his notes. “When he left the party, did you notice anyone else leaving?”

Jade shook her head negatively. “No.”

“Do you know if he’d received any threatening notes or letters?” Reed asked.

“No. Everyone liked him.” More tears fell from Jade’s eyes. She wiped at them with a tissue.

Marina chewed the top of her pen. “We need a list of all his friends and ex-girlfriends.”

Jade’s chin came up, her lips quivering again. She’d obviously been hiding something. She chose her words carefully. “His ex-girlfriend was Lissa Rawlins and he dropped her when he met me. She…she was angry at first, but I think she got over it.”

Nodding carefully, Marina noted it. Then she urged Jade to list the names of Elliot’s friends and note which friends had been at the party. As she and Reed finished the interview, she asked if Elliot had known Colton Edwards. Jade did not recognize the name, but added that Edwards could have worked at Quarter Financial with Elliot or attended MUC with him.

Respectfully reserving the right to return with more questions if necessary, Reed and Marina left the mayor’s mansion.

In the interest of getting as much done as possible, they stopped to pick up fast-food sandwiches on the way to their next interview. Eating as they traveled, they arrived at the apartment of Elliot’s best friend, Josh Jones, in Rogers Park.

Jones was obviously grief-stricken about the death of his friend. Through questioning, he basically confirmed the things Jade told them, except he thought they should check the alibi for Elliot’s ex-girlfriend, Lissa. When Elliot dropped her for Jade, Lissa’d had a hard time accepting it and had been angry enough to stalk him and cause a scene in several restaurants and clubs. When asked about Elliot’s late-night meeting, Jones told them that Elliot sometimes met and slept with other women on the side, and that everyone but Jade knew that was the reason he’d left the party early. Jones knew nothing about the woman he assumed Elliot went to meet.

Marina and Reed left Jones’ apartment and hurried to the last-known address for Lissa Rawlins. It was a condo near Grant Park. Flashing their badges, they got past the front desk guard. According to the guard and the sign on the mailbox in the lobby, it was still Lissa’s place, but no one answered the bell or the phone number Jones had given them. On the way over Reed had checked with Homicide, and they had not been able to talk to Lissa, either. Marina and Reed decided they would call back in the morning.

Heading for the office, Reed and Marina agreed to call it a day. Halfway there, Marina’s stomach growled so mournfully that she turned her head in embarrassment.

On the other side of the car Reed chuckled. “Want me to stop for some carry-out?”

“I would,” she replied regretfully, “but I promised to have dinner with Dad tonight.

“Father, daughter dinner, huh?” Reed grinned.

“Yeah. He insisted, and he’s been a little weird lately.”

Reed turned his head to make momentary eye contact. “You don’t think he’s sick?”

“I hope not.” Marina considered the thought and dismissed it. Her father was a big baby. If he were sick, she’d know it because for most of her twenty-eight years she’d been his number-one choice for unofficial nurse. “Nah, he seems to be having some sort of midlife crisis.”

“Again?”

Something in Reed’s tone made her want to defend her father. He could be very dramatic and quite emotional, but she never doubted his love or that he had her best interests at heart. “Okay, Reed. Cut him some slack. He hit his fiftieth birthday in January and has been trying to fight getting older every step of the way.”

Reed simply laughed, a warm, rumbling sound that made her smile in return.

“All right, now, you’ll get there someday yourself,” she warned.

“Lord, I hope so.” Reed maneuvered the car around a corner. “I plan to have it all by then.”

“And what does having it all mean for you these days?” she asked, venturing deeper into the personal without thinking.

“Smart, hot-looking, sex freak of a wife who’s crazy about me, a couple of kids, big house in the burbs, a job as captain, and a Jag.”

“You don’t ask for much, do you?” she quipped.

“Hey, I’m working on it. What about you?”

Marina clasped her hands behind her head. “Tall, good-looking hunk of a husband who treats me like a queen and knows how to admit when he’s wrong, a couple of kids, a house that we love, a challenging job, the latest Mustang…”

They were at the red light near the station. Reed turned to face her. She sensed seriousness beneath his light tone. “You’ve got the sports car and the job. How are you coming on the rest?”

Marina forced a smile. “Now I’ve got to find the man, then work on the house and kids.”

They flashed their badges as he drove through the gate into the station lot. He spoke in an even tone. “What happened to Emilio?”

She fought an unreasonable wave of guilt. She’d really made a mess of ending things with Reed by letting things simmer between them too long. Ending the romance between them had been difficult. All was fair in love and war, wasn’t it? She answered him in a casual tone. “Emilio was a nice guy, but it didn’t work out.”

Reed parked the car. He took the key out of the ignition and faced her. Most of the warmth had faded from his expression. “That’s too bad.”

“Yes, it is,” she replied, pushing back with her tone. The sudden distance between them made Marina feel as if she’d been slapped. There’d been an unsaid criticism in his expression and his voice. There’d been a hint of “you made your bed now lie in it” in his tone, too. That made her mad. Reed had no right to judge her or her actions. If his shorts were still twisted over what had happened in the past, it was too damned bad.

Snapping her mouth shut, she got out of the car. “See you tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder. He replied, but she really didn’t hear it because she was too busy walking to her car and fuming.

Driving home she reflected on her first day on the assignment and hoped that past history wasn’t going to make Reed a pain in the ass to work with. Finding the serial killer would be difficult enough.

She thought about poor Jade and then the unlucky Elliot Washington. He’d obviously chosen the wrong woman to cheat with. Had Elliot’s ex, Lissa, been that woman? Marina was looking forward to their talk with Lissa Rawlins.

Chapter 3

Marina Santos always managed to push Reed’s buttons whether she wanted to or not. Wound up from his first day on the task force, and more than a little out of sorts from seeing Marina and trying to adjust to working with her, Reed grabbed a quick hot dog on a bun covered with chili gravy and onions at his favorite Coney Island restaurant. He drove around the city until he reached one of his favorite spots, the Xsport Fitness Gym. He worked out and pumped iron until most of the restless feeling disappeared.

Instead of heading home this time, Reed turned his truck onto his mother’s street. It wasn’t his evening to take care of her, but he was close enough to stop and check on her. Her blood sugar levels had been fluctuating, her blood pressure was high, and she’d seemed overtired the last couple of days. The area’s streetlights were out again. Porch lights shone like an oasis on several neighborhood homes, but they did little to dispel the gathering darkness. The small one-and two-story brick structures were old and worn.

Most of the older inhabitants had already given up the warm evening air for the relative safety and security found inside their homes. Like his mother, Trudy, they were clinging to the homes they loved come hell or high water.

Here and there, youths sat on porches or stood in groups talking. The old neighborhood was rundown and becoming dangerous for those unable to hold their own against the local toughs and predators looking for victims.

Reed parked the truck in front of his mother’s house. The porch light was off but a warm glow around the edges of the blinds indicated that his mother was still up and about.

Peering around the quiet block, he got out of the truck. A warm evening breeze enveloped him. Something moved in the dark. Reed froze. His hand moved close to the Glock pistol he wore strapped at his waist. Innate caution and the desire not to hurt anyone unless it became absolutely necessary kept him from drawing the pistol.

Reed stood listening to the darkness. Nothing but the wind. He studied the surrounding trees and bushes, looking for movement. Nothing. Still his instincts told him that someone was hiding in the darkness, watching him. Instinct had saved his life more times than he cared to remember.

Fleetingly, he thought about being stalked. He wasn’t the kind of man who saw menace everywhere. In the truck earlier, he’d dismissed Marina’s suggestion that he could be in danger from the serial killer because the profile was still too general, but the possibility remained. He thought of Elliot Washington and Colton Edwards. Maybe someone had stalked and watched them in the dark before moving in close to viciously attack them.

Dismissing the thought, Reed stepped around the side of the truck. It was more likely that a druggie or neighborhood tough was lurking in the bushes, hoping to mug him. “Police officer. Who’s there?” he called into the dark.

Footsteps echoed on the sidewalk and changed to the muffled sound of someone running across the grass. The sound of breaking glass fractured the relative silence. His pulse raced. Reed drew the high-powered flashlight from his pocket and switched it on. Illuminating the trees, bushes and sidewalk, he satisfied himself that no one hid nearby. Walking up the driveway, he headed for the back of the house to check for broken glass.

Easing between his mother’s house and the one next door, he was glad for the absence of trees and bushes to hide an attacker. Behind the house, broken bottle glass littered the area near the trash. He guessed that someone had thrown the bottle to attract his attention.

Shining his light over the small garage and the few trees in his mother’s yard and the yards on either side of her, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. “Damn fool kids,” he muttered under his breath as he returned to the front. He would sweep up the glass tomorrow when it was daylight.

Warm light and cooler air hit him in the face as he used his keys to open the security door and enter the house. Inside, Trudy Crawford sat at her desktop computer under a floodlight in a corner of her living room.

Golden-brown eyes mirrored his. Seeing him, her mouth broke into a smile. “Hey, Be-be,” she said pleasantly as she pulled the reading glasses off her nose and laid them in front of the large magnifying screen on the desk. “What’s up, Lieutenant?”

She was so proud of him that she never tired of calling him that. “Just you, Mom,” he said with a smile of his own. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she assured him. “I’ve got two wonderful sons who make sure I stay that way.”

“What was your sugar level?”

“Four hundred,” she answered, looking properly chastened, “but I didn’t eat anything that wasn’t on the diet today. I even turned down the muffins in knitting class. I must be coming down with something.”

“I hope not.” Moving closer, he kissed her cheek and enjoyed the warm hug. As she released him, he took one look at the computer screen and burst into laughter. “Computer dating for seniors, Mom?”

“Why not?” she asked with a straight face. “I’m not looking to get married, but I could sure use some company. I don’t remember the last time I had a date.”

“I take you out to dinner every week, Mom,” he reminded her.

She gave him the look and deepened her tone. “And you’re my son. You’re cute, but you don’t count, Be-be.”

He studied the questionnaire she’d been filling out. He didn’t like the idea of his mother dating someone off the Internet. He knew that all sorts of predators lurked there, hidden behind their computers. Still, Trudy wasn’t his child; she was his mother and would do as she pleased. “Don’t give them any personal information.”

“Of course not,” she agreed readily, “And you’ll probably want to personally meet and check out any of them before we go out, right?”

“For sure.” Reed pulled a chair up next to her. “Why don’t I help you with the form?”

“I’d love that.” She patted his hand. “You sure you don’t have a date or something better to do?”

“What could be better than you?”

Trudy grabbed his hand and shook it gently. “Don’t try to play me, son, ’cause I’ve been played by the best of them and am still here to talk about it. Your heart ain’t been into dating since you messed around with Marina and things fell apart. Let’s talk about your social calendar.”

“I’ve got a date with Sondra. We’re going to dinner and the movies on Friday,” he said as he started adding his mother’s name to the computer form.

Trudy snorted. “Sondra does not count, and you know it. You’re not interested in her.”

Still typing, Reed bit back a smile. He’d never said anything, but his mother was right. “I got a new assignment today at work,” he began, changing the subject.

An hour later he let himself out. He’d talked about the task force assignment but neglected to mention that Marina was the FBI agent he would be working with. In his mind he’d rationalized his omission because he didn’t want to get his mother’s hopes up. Both he and Marina had moved on. The uneasiness between them now was only due to both of them trying to figure out how to work with each other on a daily basis.

Outside the house he stepped into warm darkness once more. There was no one around. As he neared his Explorer Sportrac, he noticed that it was pitched at an odd angle. Whipping out his flashlight he examined the tires. The front tire on the driver’s side had been slashed.

From time to time youths in the neighborhood vandalized property, but Reed seldom had a problem. He hoped there was no connection with his new assignment.

Angry, Reed surveyed the area once more, certain that someone was behind the curtains of a nearby house, laughing. The perpetrator was long gone. Opening the trunk, he took out his tire iron and jack, and got to work. He was going to have to be more cautious at work and during his time off. Hopefully this wasn’t the start of something nasty.

Marina’s dinner with her dad at the Italian restaurant was a dramatic affair. In between salad and lasagna, Javier, darkly handsome with just a touch of silver at his temples, was usually a very charming and talkative man. Tonight he punctuated the silences with soulful sighs. This unconscious habit was something he did when he was worried and wanted to discuss his concerns with her. Through conversation she usually got it out of him.

For some unfathomable reason she suspected that this was one time she should ignore the signals. When she could stand it no more, she fixed him with an exasperated gaze. “What? What is it, Dad? What’s got you so stressed?”

He reached across the table to pat her hand. “Marina, you know you’re my heart. Maybe I didn’t always make the best example for you, but I always tried to do my best.”

Cocking her head to the side, she gave him a puzzled look. “Sometimes you drive me crazy, but you’re a wonderful dad. Have I ever complained?”

He shook his head. “No, but it’s not your nature. I should have remarried after your mother died, let you see what it’s like to have a mother around all the time instead of…all the girlfriends.”

This time Marina sighed loudly. Her father was as amorous as they came. Simply put, he liked women, and age, beauty and intelligence were no barriers. One concession she appreciated was that he’d never dated any of her friends, but that hadn’t dampened the interest of a determined few once they reached legal age. “Dad, where are you going with this?”

Javier gripped her hand. “Chica, is it my fault that you don’t get married?”

“No.” She eyed him as if he’d transformed into a three-legged chicken. “Uh—how’d you come up with that?”

“You and your cousins Janisa and Carmen, are all about the same age, but both of them are married. Carmen’s little Chico has the birthday party this week. Janisa is expecting. But you, you are alone. You don’t even have a boyfriend. Why not? I want you to be happy. And I can hardly wait for some grandchildren.”

“You’ll get grandchildren. One day,” she added quickly. “What’s the rush?”

“You’re twenty-eight now. You don’t have a long time to make babies.”

Marina rolled her eyes. “Uh…thanks, Dad. Do you think I’m almost old enough to retire?”

Ignoring her comment, he thrust another question at her. “What happened to Emilio?”

“I told you. It didn’t work out.”

“But you liked him. We liked him.” Javier’s tone deepened and he leaned forward, intent on pressing his point.

It had been a number of months since she’d sent Emilio on his way. Resenting her father’s pushing himself into her love life, Marina leaned forward, too. “Yes, I liked him, but I didn’t love him and he wanted to get married.”

“Then what about the other guy? Rich? Rod?”

“Reed,” Marina corrected. “And don’t tell me you liked him. I know better.”

“He was okay,” Javier corrected her gently. “But his Spanish wasn’t that good and he didn’t share the Puerto Rican heritage of our family.”

“Mama was African-American,” she stated flatly.

“Yes, mija, my daughter, I loved her very much. Why do you think no one has replaced her?”

“And her Spanish was good?” she asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear him say more.

“Her Spanish was excellent. She tutored me in English.”

“But she didn’t share the Puerto Rican heritage,” Marina noted, just to see what he’d say.

Javier’s eyes lit up as he gazed inwardly. “To tell you the truth, I was so in love with Lily Ann Taylor, she could have been an alien and I would have followed her to the end of the universe.”

“Oh, Dad.” Marina gave his hand a squeeze. Hearing her dad talk about her mother often made her misty-eyed.

Javier lifted her hand and kissed it. “That’s what I want for you, mija, a love so strong that nothing else matters.”

“Maybe one day,” she murmured, wishing she could get misty-eyed about a love of her own.

The waiter came and give them dessert menus. Marina studied hers, hoping her dad was through poking into her love life. She’d never experienced a love so strong that nothing else mattered, and couldn’t even imagine that notion. The truth was that she’d never experienced love at all. What she’d had with Emilio had been a comfortable combination of lust and like with enthusiastic family approval on both sides.

“Tell me about your job,” her father said, starting a welcome new thread of conversation. “What’s going on with that?”

Marina told him about being appointed to the task force. She left out the part about working with Reed because she wasn’t going to have that discussion with Javier and she wouldn’t be doing anything with Reed but finding a serial killer.

As Javier dropped her off at home she saw her neighbor heading inside with her fiancé. The two looked so wrapped up and in love with each other that Marina felt an acute pang of envy. She wasn’t naive enough to think that any successful man would do. A man who stimulated her mentally, physically and emotionally, like Reed Crawford, was what she needed, only better. She started thinking of how she could improve on Reed. After all, he wasn’t perfect. After several minutes she gave up, disgusted with herself.

As she settled down at her computer, Marina forced her thoughts back to the task force and Lissa Rawlins. Tomorrow she would find out if Lissa could have killed Elliot Washington and Colton Edwards.

Chapter 4

Marina arrived at the station early the next day to find Reed at his desk, already at work on the computer. “I ran a cross-search of the violent death files on the computer with Merriwhether and hit the jackpot,” he said proudly.

“How many did you find?” she asked, praying that several murders hadn’t already gone by without someone making a connection.

“Just one. I’m printing the file now.”

Stepping around the stack of files on the floor, she stowed her purse in the desk drawer and locked it. Then she dropped into her chair and scooted close to Reed.

The printer whined just behind them and began spitting out the pages. Swiveling her chair around, Marina grabbed the first couple of sheets and began to scan them.

The victim’s name was Aubrey Russell. Twenty-seven years old, his body was found behind a popular nightclub, the Hot Spot, in the early morning hours. He’d been stabbed, his body mutilated. He’d also been killed about four months prior to the discovery of Colton Edwards’ body. Four months! “I think we’ve got a big lead on the cooling off period between the murders,” Marina said, grabbing a pen and a slip of paper to jot down the record number for the file.

Reed’s voice sounded close to her ear. “I’ve already ordered the full file. It has a lot more in it than they put on the computer system.”

Marina turned, her face almost colliding with his. She was excited about the new information and knew he was, too, but as their gazes held, something deep inside her heated and she momentarily lost her train of thought. Recovering quickly, she asked, “Did you notice that there was about four months between each of the murders?”

“Yeah, I’ve sketched out a timeline.” He showed her a piece of graph paper where he’d written down the months and marked the date of each murder with a star.

Marina glanced at her watch. It was only a quarter to eight. She worked to keep the note of censure out of her voice. “You’ve been at this awhile.”

“Yeah. I really want to catch this killer and I’ve got a lot riding on it.” Reed rubbed his eyes absently with the sides of his forefingers. “I woke up early this morning thinking about it and decided that I might as well get in here early. We’re going to find this killer, whoever he is.”

“Yes, we are.” Marina inserted her laptop into the docking station. She liked to be first in everything and on a team she drove herself to do her share or more. Right now it looked as if she would have to start getting into the office a little earlier if she wanted to keep up with Reed. “How long before we get the hard copy of the rest of the file?”

Reed stood, tall and broad-shouldered in a deep blue shirt and navy slacks. “It should be ready. I’ll go get it right away.”

Marina’s gaze strayed and she noticed the way the slacks covered his nicely shaped butt and hinted at muscular thighs. Reed had always been something of a contender in the eye-candy department. He had nice, big shoulders and an easygoing walk that radiated confidence. Gritting her teeth, she headed to the coffee area with a big cup. Did he have to look so good this early in the morning?

Together, Marina and Reed studied the details in Aubrey Russell’s file. She’d braced herself for what she’d see in the pictures, but her stomach still bucked and her throat froze. Somehow she managed to maintain her dignity. Russell had been stabbed in the chest and abdomen, like the others. He’d also been unmanned, the severed organ left close to the body.

Giving Reed the pictures, she pulled out another section of the file to study. “We need to get down to MUC to get their records,” she told him.

He nodded. “I’ve been thinking the same thing and I put in for a warrant, but we still don’t know what we’re looking for. Maybe we should talk to Washington’s friends and family first, and see what’s been dug up in the investigation? We need more to go on.”

Marina glanced at her spreadsheet and agreed that they still knew too little about the victims and the things they had in common. “Has Forensics got enough to give us some preliminary findings?”

Reed checked his watch. “SaintCloud, the forensic specialist assigned to us, said we could come by after nine and he’d be ready.”

Reed led Marina through the glass doors of the Forensic Sciences department. Eric SaintCloud was a wiry, intense man of about thirty-five with dark hair and piercing gray eyes. His gaze was steady as he shook Marina’s hand firmly. He directed them into his lab area where he’d set up most of the work he’d done so far.

Going through his analysis of the victim’s wounds, he informed them that the serial killer had used a knife similar to a common steak knife with a serrated edge on all three victims.

“I found something interesting. None of the three victims had defensive wounds on the hands, arms or forearms of their bodies,” Eric said. “Most stab victims have defensive wounds. Preliminary results of blood samples taken from Mr. Washington have been inconclusive, but I suspect that he was drugged. Maybe the others were, too.

“The killer probably used ketamine, a date rape drug, which would have impaired motor function, distorted perceptions of sight and sound, and given him a dreamlike feeling. Washington had been drinking, but he wasn’t drunk. Samples from the glasses at the scene are being analyzed. Alcohol alone would have slowed his reflexes enough for someone to take him by surprise, but I’m betting that an additional drug immobilized him enough for his attacker to repeatedly stab him.”

“How many times?” Marina asked, determined to keep her cool.

“Preliminary count, twenty.” SaintCloud didn’t skip a beat.

Marina blinked, swallowing a curse. There was a lot of anger and rage in twenty stab wounds. She added the information to the profile she’d been building in her head. “What about the other two victims?”

“Twenty to twenty-five times.” SaintCloud turned to remove something from the table. “This was found on Mr. Washington’s body.” He showed them a magnified photo of a blond hair. “It’s from a wig that can be bought in any number of stores in the Chicago area.”

“But that doesn’t mean that our killer has to be a woman,” Marina put in.

“That’s true.” SaintCloud continued, “Some of the stab wounds were to the chest, but most were below the waist on all three victims. Analysis shows that the attacker stood at least five foot eleven.”

Marina nodded. “We need forensics to see if the same knife was used on all the victims, and if the angles and depth of the blows indicate whether we’re looking for a man or a woman.”

“Already working it,” SaintCloud said smugly.

Reed’s head came up. “You don’t think we’re looking for a man? Aren’t most serial killers lower-to middle-class white males?”

“Been doing your homework?” Marina teased, raising an eyebrow.

When Reed merely flashed her a lopsided grin in response, she continued. “Yes, most serial killers are male, but the things that have been done to the bodies could also have been done by a woman who hated men.”

“It’s just less likely,” Reed put in.

Marina agreed. “Maybe these guys knew each other. Maybe they knew their killer, too. Then you probably know that serial killers usually choose victims that are vulnerable. I don’t see anything in the files that shows these guys as being vulnerable in any way.”

Marina left the forensics department with Reed, certain that the evidence supported their initial assumption that all three victims had the same killer. There still wasn’t enough information to determine if the killer was male or female.

By nine Reed and Marina had their notebooks and files and were getting into Reed’s unmarked car, headed for Lissa Rawlins’ place. They didn’t call first because Reed didn’t want to spook Lissa and give her a chance to run.

Apparently remembering their visit yesterday, the guard in the lobby simply nodded when he saw them. They buzzed the condo and a woman’s sleepy voice answered. Reed gave her their names and asked to be let into the condo. As Lissa buzzed them in, Marina glanced at him in surprise. Taking the small success in stride, Reed pretended not to notice.

Lissa Rawlins opened the door to her loft condo and Reed’s first look was enough to make him pause. Lissa was barely dressed in a revealing pair of red baby-doll pajamas and matching red-mink mules. Her double-D-size breasts thrust out like ripe melons. With effort, he focused on her face, made up Marilyn Monroe style. “We can wait for you to put something on,” he suggested carefully.

“I’m fine, Lieutenant Crawford,” she said, flashing him a smile right off the ad for 1-800-HotBabe. “Come on in and get comfortable.”

Reed strode into the high-ceilinged entryway, and onto a patch of the morning sunlight spilling in from the palladium windows. Marina followed close on his heels.

“This is my associate, Special Agent Marina Santos,” he added.

Barely nodding at Marina, Lissa faced Reed.

“This is about Elliot, isn’t it?”

Marina spoke from just behind Lissa. “Yes, it is.”

Lissa ignored her. “Have a seat on the couch,” Lissa told Reed. She moved ahead of him, spicing up the view with a provocative rotation of her slim hips.

Glancing back, he almost laughed at the annoyed expression on Marina’s pretty face. She hated to be ignored. Was she a little bit jealous, too? He suppressed a smile at the thought. Why should she be comfortable when just being around her kept him on edge? He hadn’t gotten over her yet, but he wasn’t going to let that or a nearly naked woman stop him from doing his job and finding the serial killer.

Reed took one side of the plush white sofa and Lissa sat with a knee beneath her, effectively taking the rest of the couch with a long leg spanning the distance between them. Marina settled for the matching chair across from them.

“I’ve been out of town,” Lissa explained, “but I knew that sooner or later someone was going to come around asking questions about Elliot. Am I a suspect?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Reed said carefully. “I’d describe you as a person of interest in the case.”

Lissa seemed to like that response. She leaned toward him.

He fed her his first question. “When was the last time you saw Elliot?”

Lissa rolled her eyes. “It’s been at least a couple of months.”

“Where did you see him?” Marina interjected.

Lissa made eye contact with Reed. “I met him at the Hartford Hotel. He was good and it was his favorite place to screw, you know. He paid the staff and they gave him his privacy. I just got tired of being second and third on his list of women. That man was doing me, little Miss Dansinger and whoever else he could get. He couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

Reed made notes in his little black notebook. “Do you know the names of any of the other women?”

Lissa shrugged. “Except for Jade, I didn’t care.”

“Some of his friends thought you were stalking him,” Marina said.

“And they’re lying asses,” Lissa countered shrilly. “Elliot asked me to meet him.”

Reed studied her, trying to look past her innocent expression to see if she had the will to kill Elliot. He knew she was lying. He held up a file. “I have a copy of a police report he filed, accusing you of stalking him.”

“That was before he realized that Jade wasn’t nearly enough woman for him,” Lissa snapped. “He came to me and begged for it, begged me to come back. It was the best sex we ever had.”

“Where have you been the past few days?” Reed asked.

“I was in Detroit, checking on my mother. I wasn’t even in town when he got killed and I can prove it. I’ve got the ticket stubs.”

Marina’s voice was cool and professional. “We’ll need to see those and we’ll also need your mother’s name, address and phone number so we can check your alibi.”

Lissa’s eyes widened momentarily, as if she was a little intimidated. “I’ll get it for you,” she promised Reed.

He went to the next question on his list. “Did you ever see Elliott with a man named Colton Edwards? Or Aubrey Russell?”

Lissa shrugged again. “I don’t know. They could have been the guys in that stupid fraternity Elliott used to belong to.”

Reed’s glance shot up from his notebook. He sensed that this was the break he and Marina had been looking for. “What was the name of his fraternity?”

Sucking her bottom lip, Lissa tilted her head. “Alpha Kappa Epsilon? I think that was it.”

Reed’s pen sped up. “Did you ever meet any of Elliot’s frat brothers?”

Pulling her knees up to her chest, Lissa put her back on the armrest. “No. He didn’t want to share me with them. Isn’t that a laugh?”

Before Reed could answer they heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. Lissa seemed to grow smaller as she lowered her legs to the floor to sit primly on the other end of the couch.

The atmosphere in the room changed drastically. The man who opened the door was built like a wrestler with a short, powerful body and pugnacious face topped with glossy black curls. “Lissa,” he said, taking in her scantily clad form, “why you sitting around guests in your underwear? What are trying to do, huh? Give the man a heart attack?”

“Relax, Tony,” she snapped. “They’re cops. They came to ask questions about Elliot.”

Tony slammed the door shut with an air of barely controlled anger. His wary gazed flicked over Reed and Marina, lingering longer over Marina’s breasts and finally her face. “You two got a warrant?”

“No.” Marina’s tone implied that it wasn’t a problem.

Tony gave off powerful waves of suppressed violence as he flicked a thumb at the door. “No warrant, then get out.”

Sizing the other man up, Reed spoke. “Tony, chill. We need to see Lissa’s airline ticket stubs and proof that she was in Detroit when Elliot Washington was killed or we’ll be taking her downtown with us.” He didn’t know how much control Tony had over himself, but he wasn’t taking any chances. His hand was close to the gun he wore strapped at his waist, just beneath his suit jacket.

Lissa scrambled to her feet. “I’ll get those stubs for you,” she said, hurrying into the back.

Tony approached Reed, his eyes sparking with aggravation. “I don’t know why you come here bothering Lissa about that bum. She was over him a long time ago.”

Marina stood. “How long have you been with Lissa?”

Tony rotated his shoulders. “About a month or so, why?”

“We need to know where you were the night before last, the night someone killed Elliot Washington. Maybe you decided to take him out of the picture.”

“No. I didn’t have to kill the bum. I already told you. She was over him,” Tony replied angrily, narrowing his eyes.

Marina didn’t argue. She simply waited for the answer to her question with an unwavering expression.

“I was playing poker with the boys from about eight till about two-thirty in the morning. I drank until I passed out.”

“You got someone who can verify that?” Reed asked.

“Yeah, Vince Vanetti.” Tony rattled off a phone number.

Bent on verifying the alibi, Reed whipped out his cell phone and called the number. Identifying himself as a police officer, he asked about Tony and the card game, deliberately giving the wrong day. Vince, the man on the other end hesitated for moment, and corrected him. Tony had been at his house playing cards, passed out and ended up spending the night. Vince promised to come down to the station to sign a statement.

Reed switched off the phone. Lissa had thrown on a robe and was waiting while Marina copied the numbers and information off her airline ticket stubs. Afterward, Lissa gave Marina a slip of paper with her mother’s name and address printed on it.

“You got everything you need from us?” Tony asked, looking as if he’d sat on the sharp edge of a tack.

Reed closed his notebook. “Yeah, but we’ll be back if this stuff doesn’t check out.”

“It will,” Tony stormed. “Now get the hell out of our house.”

Reed stopped in the act of gathering his things to confront Tony. “Hey, you need to watch your language. We’re just doing our jobs and we’ve treated you with respect. We expect the same back. If it’s too hard for you to be civil enough for us to do our jobs here, we can all go down to the station. Understand?”

Tony turned red and his dark brows pulled together like thunderclouds, but his head dipped slightly in acknowledgment.

Reed and Marina made a dignified exit.

“Do you think Lissa did it?” Reed asked as they got into the car.

Marina cinched her seat belt. “No, but before Tony showed up, I was sure she was going to try to get in your underwear. I’m still checking out her alibi. She could have taken a quick flight back here, killed Elliot and gone back to Detroit. If her mother is elderly or sick, how would she know?”

Reed thought back to Lissa’s obvious anger with Elliot. Had it been enough for her to kill? And could she have killed Colton Edwards? He’d seen no signs of recognition in her facial expression. They were looking for a serial killer, but they had to make sure that none of the killer’s supposed victims had died by another hand.

“For a moment there, I thought you were going to pull a gun on Tony,” Marina said as they pulled away from the curb.

Reed kept his eyes on the road as he answered. “For a moment there, I thought I was going to have to.”

Marina stretched and yawned in the seat next to him. “It got pretty tense.”

“And you loved it,” he shot back, enjoying the banter between them and her presence beside him. “If I’d had to draw my gun, you’d have been right there with me.” He glanced away from the road to catch a glimpse of her soft berry-coated lips turning upward in response. Heat went through him like lightning. He’d always been a sucker for that smile. He jerked his gaze back to the road.

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