The waitress reappeared, took their orders, and promised to be back in a flash with their iced teas.

“By the way, I spoke with Annie McCall,” Rick announced. “She’ll be joining us tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s as soon as she can get here?” Mitch asked.

“She’s wrapping up something else today. Tomorrow is the best she can do.”

“Who’s Annie McCall?” Regan asked.

“Anne Marie McCall. Dr. McCall. She’s our favorite profiler,” Mitch explained. “Not to mention the best I’ve ever worked with.”

“What makes her the best?” Cass unfolded her napkin and rested it on her lap.

“She’s a psychologist, but besides being book smart, she’s a real master at understanding behavior. Especially aberrant behavior,” Rick told her. “She’s really good at putting the pieces together. You’ll see when you meet her.”

“I’d like to meet her, too.” Regan frowned. “I’m sorry I’m going to miss her.”

“We can always drive back tomorrow, if you’d like. I want to be part of the sit-down with her,” Mitch said. “You’re welcome to come along.”

“The sit-down?” Cass leaned back to permit the waitress to serve her drink.

“The preliminary meeting we have where we toss around whatever information we have. We’ll give her a chance to review the records, the interviews, the lab reports, all of that, but we like to discuss the cases informally. Some of our best insights come from those moments of idle chatter.”

“It hardly sounds idle,” Regan noted.

“I guess unstructured is probably a more accurate term,” Mitch said. “It’s sort of a brainstorming session.”

“Any chance I could be a part of that, too?” Cass asked.

Rick nodded. “Absolutely. You will be the star witness. We can’t have that powwow without you.”

Cass looked momentarily pleased, the guarded expression she’d been wearing lifting a little. Then she asked, “And after she leaves? Will I still be invited to the powwows?”

“You’ll know everything that’s going on when I do,” Rick promised.

“That wasn’t the question.”

“No, but that’s the answer.” He handed his menu to the waitress. “I think we’re all ready to order. Cass? Regan?”

Orders were placed and glasses replenished. The conversation drifted from the current investigation to the information Regan had found in her father’s files.

“That’s really interesting,” Cass said. “You write books about old cases and try to solve them at the same time? How many have you solved?”

“On my own, none.” Regan smiled. “But my dad had quite a record.”

“I’ve never read any of his books, but I will definitely look for them.”

“I’ll try to remember to bring you a few.”

“Thanks, Regan. That’s nice of you. And it does appear I’ll have some time on my hands, so maybe I’ll even get to read a couple of them.” Cass turned to Rick and asked, as if it had just occurred to her, “When do you suppose I can move back to my house?”

“I don’t know. We’ll look into that later. After we eat. You’re not the only one who missed out on dinner last night, you know.”

“I saw you nursing that bag of chips from the vending machine this morning, so don’t even pretend that you haven’t eaten in days.” Cass almost smiled.

“A snack-sized bag of potato chips doesn’t count for anything. It doesn’t even rate a true snack designation, and it sure as hell did not make up for the dinner and the breakfast I didn’t have.”

“Here.” Mitch passed the basket of soft rolls to Rick. “I realize they’re not organic stone-ground whole wheat, and God knows they probably aren’t as good as the ones you make in your little kitchen, but you can buck up, just this once, and eat what the rest of us eat.”

Rick grinned, and without comment buttered a roll, which he proceeded to devour.

“You make your own?” Cass pointed to the basket.

Rick nodded. “I have on occasion made my own bread. Not very often, but I have done it. Much to the amusement of some of my fellow agents, I might add.”

“You never should have mentioned it,” Mitch told him.

“What was I thinking?” Rick shook his head good-naturedly.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Cass asked.

“My grandmother baked every day. Cakes, cookies, breads-all from scratch. I often stayed with her when I was little. She said everyone should know how to bake their own bread and do their own taxes. So I learned both at an early age.”

The waitress brought salads, and Cass picked at hers, watching Rick out of the corner of her eye, and tried to envision those large hands kneading a mound of dough.

“So, what’s on the agenda this afternoon?” Mitch asked.

“Well, I’m going to get copies of everything we have and make a file up for Annie, then I’ll have it sent to her overnight. That way she’ll have a head start on the case before she gets here. I’ll check in with the lab.” Rick hesi-tated, then turned to Cass. “Do you think your friend Tasha would get copies of all the lab reports for us? We still don’t have the ME’s report from the victim on the dock.”

Cass nodded. “I’m sure she’ll give us whatever she has.”

“Even if you’re off the case?” he asked.

“Especially if I’m off the case.”

“Can you give her a call?”

“Now?”

“Yes. But the reception is poor in here. You’ll have to take the phone into the lobby.”

“I’ll be right back.” Cass picked up her bag and left the room.

“Is the reception in here really that bad, or were you trying to get rid of her for a few?” Mitch asked.

“Both, actually. While I was in the lobby, I switched rooms from a single to a two-bedroom suite with a sitting room between.”

“You move fast. I had no idea you were such a player,” Mitch said wryly.

“Hey, this is strictly in the interest of justice. She needs a place to stay, and she needs to stay where I can keep an eye on her. She won’t like it, but neither of us has much of a choice. I figure she’s got another twenty, thirty minutes in her, tops, before she just flat-out collapses. The woman is running on empty right now. I just wanted to make sure she was taken care of when she hits the wall.”

“Considerate of you.” Mitch still bore the slightest trace of a grin, which Rick chose to ignore.

“She’s going to want things from her house. Regan, can you go over with me later to pick out some clothes that you think she might need over the next few days? And some… stuff. Whatever stuff it is that women use.”

“Sure. I’d be happy to. But why don’t you take Cass?”

“Because I think she’ll be out cold before too much longer. I’d like her to have her things here when she wakes up. And I don’t think she should be in that house right now.”

“She doesn’t strike me as the squeamish type, Rick,” Regan noted.

“I don’t mean to imply that she is. But I think there’s a possibility the killer might be watching her house. In that case, he could easily follow her. Let’s keep her whereabouts under wraps for at least twenty-four hours, if possible. Give her a chance to rest before the real crazy stuff begins.”

“What crazy stuff?”

“I expect that by this time tomorrow, the chief will have a viable list of names. That, along with Annie’s imput, should put us closer to a suspect. Sooner or later, this guy will strike again. I think it’s all going to begin to boil over within the next few days.”

He looked up as Cass entered the room and headed for the table.

“And, unless I’m mistaken, I expect we’ll have him in our crosshairs by the end of the week. Until then, one of our priorities is to keep her out of his.”

“You’re going to keep me out of what?” Cass slid into her seat.

“We’re going to keep you out of harm’s way,” Rick told her.

“Nice of you.”

“What did Tasha have to say?”

“She’ll drop a copy of everything she has to you here. I didn’t know where I’d be staying.” Cass smiled up at the waitress, who began to serve their entrées. “I thought if she dropped them off to you, we’d all see them.”