He’d been murmuring agreement. Yes, yes, of course, the man who’d been convicted of murdering the Burke family got off easy. Yes, yes, dying of cancer was too good for him. He should rot in hell. Yes, it’s crazy that someone’s going around acting like the Strangler. Yes, you can’t be too careful…

He barely heard a word, hardly knew what he was saying.

He said his good nights, then hurried to the parking lot. The last he saw of her was the sweep of long hair as she got into the car.

He stood in the shadows and watched her drive away, his heart pounding and his knees shaking, wanting her.

The car turned right at the stop sign and disappeared into the night. But it was okay, he told himself.

She wouldn’t be hard to find.

Rick Cisco wasn’t certain what he expected to find when he arrived at the Bowers Inlet Police Department, but it wasn’t the welcome he’d been given. Fresh coffee, fresh Danish, and a warm handshake from Chief Denver had made him feel as if he’d stepped into the Twilight Zone. He wondered if there was something else going on in Bowers Inlet that he hadn’t been told about. Like Pod People taking over the identities of the locals. He couldn’t recall ever having been greeted as graciously by a local agency. Usually his entry into a case came by way of some pushing and shoving and was accompanied by grumbles and dirty looks. No one ever wanted the FBI involved in their cases.

He sat in the chair offered to him by the chief, and waited for the other shoe to drop.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and he turned to see a tall slender woman with chin-length cinnamon-colored hair and uneasy cops’ eyes. She wore jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and he suspected she might be the other shoe.

Chief Denver made the introductions. “Detective Cassandra Burke, meet Special Agent Eric Cisco. Agent Cisco will be working with you on the recent homicides.”

“Great.” She flashed a smile.

“It’s Rick,” he told her, wondering if the smile was for his benefit or the chief’s. He figured he’d find out soon enough.

“Cass,” she replied, the smile still in place. “Hopefully, two heads will prove to be better than one.”

“Chief Denver was just telling me that you’ve recovered very little evidence.”

She nodded, all business now, the smile history. “This is one wily little bastard. He knows what he’s doing, no question about that. We figure he watches his victims for a few days before he strikes; he always seems to know when his target will be most vulnerable. He seems to be choosing women who have a pattern of being out at night. He knows exactly where they will be, and at what time.”

“He took one woman right out of her own driveway,” Denver interjected. “She did shift work at a fast-food place and apparently was picked up just as she arrived home. A co-worker dropped her off in front of her house, but she never made it inside.”

“You checked out the co-worker?”

“An eighteen-year-old girl who was home within ten minutes of dropping off the victim,” Cass said.

“No one heard anything, saw anything?” Rick asked.

“No one’s come forward if they have,” Cass told him, “and as frightened as everyone is right now, I have to think if anyone had information, we’d know about it.”

Rick turned to the chief. “I’m assuming you have extra men on the street at night.”

“I have all my cars on the street, twenty-four/seven. But I only have so many officers, Agent Cisco,” Denver explained. “We’re all working around the clock on this case, but he just hasn’t given us much to work with.”

“Would you like to go over the files?” Cass asked.

“Yes, thanks. That’s a good place to start.”

“Detective, you’ll show Agent Cisco where he can hang his hat while he’s here?” Chief Denver pushed back his chair and stood.

“Sure.” Cass stood as well. “If we’re done here, we can start right now.”

“Great.” Rick took the hand the chief extended. “Thank you. I don’t always get this pleasant a reception.”

“Women are dying in my town, Agent Cisco. I want it stopped. I’ll take whatever help I can get, wherever I can get it. I want this bastard brought in.”

“I’ll do my best.” Rick nodded and followed Cass from the room.

She led him down the hall and into a small room that was crowded with two old wooden desks, one of which looked naked except for the phone, a yellow legal pad, and a lone pen. She paused next to the other desk, which was piled high with files and papers.

“You’ll need a chair,” she murmured, mostly to herself, then went back out the door.

Moments later she returned, rolling an old leather number on shaky wheels.

“Sorry,” she told him, “but this was all I could find. If it wobbles too much, we can trade. It won’t bother me.”

“This will be fine.” He rolled the chair behind the desk and sat in it.

“Where would you like to start?”

“With the first victim.”

“Fine.” Cass shuffled through several files. “Linda Roman was our first vic. Here are the basics.”

She handed him a copy of the report she herself had filed. He skimmed it quickly.

“Early thirties… married… one child. No known enemies, no one stalking her…” He went on to the second page. “Found near a creek, apparently within hours of having been killed…”

“Here are the photos from the scene.”

Rick laid the report to one side of the desk and picked up the top photo.

“She looks as if she’s been posed,” he noted. “This isn’t a natural position, arms over the head just so. Legs bent at that angle.”

Cass handed him another stack of pictures.

“Victim number two. Lisa Montour.”

He studied it for a moment, then said, “Same age, same hair. Same pose.”

He looked up at her.

“Number three?”

“Toni DeMarco.” She slid one packet of crime-scene photos across the desk, then a second. “And this is Yvonne Hunt, number four.”

“So close they could be superimposed on one another,” he murmured. “He’s reliving something. Re-creating a scene. The women even look alike. Same age, same body type. And all that dark hair. Notice how in each picture the hair is sort of fanned out…”

“We noticed, Agent Cisco.” There was a touch of starch in her voice now, as if offended. He wondered if she’d been waiting to feel offended.

Well, he’d been waiting for that, that little bit of resentment, to come out eventually. He was going to nip it in the bud right now.

“I’m sure you did. And it’s Rick. If we’re going to be working together, let’s keep it casual, okay?”

“Sure,” she said dryly.

“Look, let’s get something straight. I’m not here to take your case away from you, or to try to make you look bad, or to steal your thunder. I was assigned to come up here and lend a hand. And that’s what I intend to do.”

“You don’t consider yourself the lead, now that you’re here? You don’t feel the need to be in charge?”

“No. Until I’m told otherwise, I’m considering us equal in this. Partners. But since you’ve been on this case since day one, I’m ready to follow your lead. Agreed?”

She studied him with brown eyes that were almost too big for her face.

“Agreed. Okay. I’ll take you at your word.” She sat in her chair, a wry smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. “Not that it makes any difference.”

“It makes a difference, Cass. I know that the Bureau has the reputation of sometimes coming in and strong-arming the locals. I don’t work that way. My unit doesn’t work that way. I’ll help as much as I can, I’ll do whatever I can to work with you. We have resources that you don’t have and we will use as many or all of them, whatever we need to get the job done. But I won’t take over your case, and I won’t try to screw you over to take the glory when we get this guy.” Rick sat back and studied her face. “And we will get him, you and I.”