6Cass dropped her bag on the kitchen counter and plunked herself into a chair, grateful to be home after near round-the-clock duty for the past three days. With Spencer gone, she was once again the sole detective for the department, which would, under normal circumstances, keep her moving from sunrise to sunset. Throw a serial killer into the mix, and the hours of sleep each night diminish in proportion to the number of bodies found.

And just that morning, there’d been another body.

Cass had felt a twinge of guilt when she realized her first response had been relief to learn the body had been found in nearby Dewey. Once she’d finished walking the crime scene with Dewey’s chief of police, at his request and with Denver ’s blessing, her boss had sent her home with instructions to get some sleep. But she’d run into Tasha on the way to her car. The county crime scene tech had all but begged Cass to photograph the scene for her since Dewey didn’t have anyone who could line up a decent shot. So Cass had stayed, and stayed, telling herself she could sleep later.

Well, right about now, she could sleep right here, standing in the kitchen. Or she could drag her tired bones into the living room and just pass out on the sofa. Yeah, that sounded even better…

She’d just stretched out and closed her eyes when a thought popped into her brain.

It was Thursday.

Shit. Thursday.

With a groan, she forced herself to sit, went into the bathroom, and splashed cold water on her face. Then it was a quick fly through the bedroom, where she changed into sweat shorts and an old T-shirt and pulled on her sneakers. Grabbing a headband from a drawer, she wrapped it around her wrist and picked up her gym bag. Back to the kitchen, where she took two bottles of spring water from the cupboard and tossed them into the bag she’d dropped by the back door. Already late, she hurried outside and hopped into her car.

Four minutes later, she parked and got out. It was dusk, and the lights on the poles surrounding the small playground had just turned on. From across the asphalt she could hear the distinct tap-tap-tap of a ball being dribbled. As Cass jogged across the court, that ball sped toward her, thrown by the lone player, a tall young girl whose white shorts were a sharp contrast to her long brown legs. Cass tossed her bag aside, then caught the ball with one hand. She started toward the basket, dribbling methodically, her eyes on her opponent. She took her shot, which was skillfully blocked. Back and forth they went for twenty minutes, until Cass, totally winded, called a time-out.

“I thought maybe you weren’t coming this week,” the girl said as Cass handed her a bottle of water. “I thought maybe you were too busy, you know, with that killer.”

“It has been a tough week,” Cass admitted as she opened her own bottle and took a long drink, “but Khaliyah, you know that I’ll always be here. Some weeks later than others. It was close, though. I didn’t get home until late.”

Cass reached into her bag, searching the contents.

“I have something for you,” she told the girl.

Cass handed over a cell phone.

“For me? This is for me? Really?”

“I’m thinking that with all that’s going on, you should probably have one with you.”

“You mean those women getting killed?”

“Yes.”

“He’s only killing white women, though, right? Older white women?”

“So far.” Cass ignored the reference to age. All of the victims had been around Cass’s age of thirty-two.

“Well, in case you need a reminder, I’m black,” the girl whispered as if sharing a confidence. “And I’m not old. Those women who were killed were all in their thirties, right?”

“And they also all had long dark hair.” Cass tipped her bottle in the direction of the girl’s hair, which was tied back in a ponytail. “Long dark hair like yours. Black or white, young or old-and some other time, we’ll talk about what is old and what is not-you never know what he’s thinking, Khaliyah. Best to have it, if you need it.”

“So, do I have, like, so many minutes a month…”

“No. So you can call me anytime, day or night. I already programmed my numbers in. Home, office, cell. So you can always reach me if you need me. Here, let me show you…”

“I know how to use it. All my friends have them.” Khaliyah studied the phone for a minute, then touched a button.

Cass’s phone rang. She reached into her bag for it.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Detective Burke. This is Khaliyah Graves. I want to thank you for the new phone.”

“You are very welcome. Don’t lose it.”

“I won’t. I promise. It’s the best present I ever got.” Khaliyah’s eyes were shining. “Thank you, Cass.”

“You’re welcome.” Cass disconnected the call. “Now, tell me, how’d school go this week?”

“Well, it’s just summer school, and we only just started classes on Monday. At least I got the good Spanish teacher, but the trig teacher-so-so. We have our first test tomorrow. Jameer said this teacher gives the hardest tests.”

“So you’re still seeing Jameer?”

“Sort of. My aunt doesn’t really want me to have a boyfriend, you know.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Your aunt is a smart woman. As much as I like Jameer, I think you’re too young to be too involved with any one guy. And remember, at the end of the summer, he’ll be leaving for college.”

“Did I tell you he’s going to Georgetown to play basketball? Just like Allen Iverson?”

“Only about a hundred times.” Cass smiled.

“Maybe I’ll go to Georgetown, too,” Khaliyah said wistfully. “Maybe I could get a scholarship. My friend Tonya has a cousin who got a full ride there for track. Maybe I could get one for basketball. That’s what you did, right? At Cabrini?”

“Right. And I think your chances are great, if you keep the grades up and do as well on the court this season as you did last. We’ll talk to your coach and your guidance counselor over the summer and see what they think. I’m sure they’ll have some good ideas on where to apply and how to get the most financial aid.” Cass took a long pull of water. “Did you get your Advanced Placement scores back yet?”

“Yes.” Khaliyah smiled broadly. “All fours.”

“Excellent. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Khaliyah said softly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their water, watching the swallows swoop around the lights on the court.

“It’s getting late, I should get you back home so you can study for that test and maintain your perfect record.”

“Fifteen more minutes?” Khaliyah got up and began to bounce the basketball.

“Ten.” Cass stopped to set the alarm on her watch, then set about to steal the ball.

Twenty minutes later, Cass was dropping Khaliyah off in front of her aunt’s house.

“Thanks again for the phone.” Khaliyah’s eyes were shining. “I can’t wait to call Tonya. She’s had her own phone since middle school.”

Cass waved to Khaliyah’s aunt as the girl hopped out of the car, calling, “Aunt Sharona, look at what Detective Burke gave me…”

Cass grinned to herself and drove away, thinking how little it took to make Khaliyah’s brown eyes light with happiness.

It had not always been so.

Cass had met the girl after having been called to a grisly scene five years earlier. Khaliyah’s mother had been stabbed to death by her boyfriend, when she’d discovered that he’d raped her only child. Only twelve at the time, Khaliyah had endured more, had seen more, than any child should, but there was something in her spirit that had kept her strong enough to testify against the man who had attacked her and murdered her mother.

During the months leading up to the trial, Cass had spent a lot of time with Khaliyah, and the young girl had responded to the detective’s kindness and truthfulness at every step of the investigation and throughout the trial. Along the way, Cass had become a mentor to Khaliyah, who lived with her mother’s sister and her family. As much as Sharona loved her niece, the woman was already overworked with five children of her own and two jobs and had little time for the emotional needs of a damaged child. Cass had stepped in and become Khaliyah’s advocate, her best friend, and the big sister she’d never had.