"That he values common sense. Where are you?"

"Now Rainie," the caller chided. "After all this time you wouldn't take this fun from me, would you? I truly deserve an A for effort."

"You did deserve an A for effort. But Glenda Rodman lived, and I got you pegged."

"Glenda Rodman was supposed to live."

"What, you got a weakness for stern gray suits?" He laughed. "Come now, we both know Albert Montgomery is incompetent. You were a police officer, Rainie, you know the importance of understanding your fellow officers' strengths and weaknesses. I let Albert have Glenda. He really has such a deep-seated rage for anyone in law enforcement. I think it goes back to his father, a washed-up security guard. A little too strict, Albert's father. He produced a son who desperately needed to prove himself better than his own dad, and yet despised himself all the more for following in his father's footsteps. But that's neither here nor there. Albert's conflicted, Albert's incompetent. Therefore, it stood to reason, Albert would fail."

"You bet against your own pawn," Rainie said.

"Of course, although it hardly matters. If Albert succeeded, Pierce would stand accused of Glenda's shooting and would have to return to Virginia. If Albert failed, Pierce would need to question Albert and he'd have to return to Virginia for that. Either way, I win my game."

"You lured Quincy back home so you could kill him."

"No, I lured Quincy away, so I could kill you."

"Oops, I'm sorry. But now that I've given it some thought, I don't feel like dying today." Rainie made another motion to Kimberly. The girl nodded, and headed straight for each window, cautiously raising the sash and inspecting the outdoor fire escape. Kimberly looked both up and down. When she was done, she left the windows open as they had planned, nodded to Rainie that the fire escape was clear, and headed for the bedroom to do the same with those windows there.

"Are you afraid of hell, Rainie?" the man asked. Rainie could hear static now. He was definitely calling from a cell phone, which meant he could be anywhere.Riding up the elevator. Creeping down the hall. He thought keeping her talking would keep her distracted. He would learn soon enough that talking was his mistake.

"I'm not afraid of hell," she answered. "I pretty much figure that's what life is for."

"Suffering here on earth? Come now, surely you have some notion of spiritual reward and punishment. Given everything you've done, that must make you wonder where you will spend your end of days."

"You're one to talk. Your whole life is about punishing Quincy. To do that you've killed how many people? It therefore stands to reason," she mocked him, "that you're not one for religion, since your eternal punishment is gonna be one helluva long suntan session."

Kimberly returned from the bedroom, shaking her head. So far, nothing on the fire escape. She started toward the door, but Rainie hastily waved her away. She'd read of people getting shot as they peered through the peephole. She didn't know if that could really happen, and she didn't want to find out. She gestured to the carpet. Kimberly got the hint and peered beneath the door instead. No sign of feet.

"Are you going to kill me, Rainie?" the man asked.

"I'm thinking about it."

"Oh, thinking's not good enough. You have to commit to the act, Rainie. Visualize the goal, imagine yourself as the victor."

"Wonderful, Chicken Soup for the Serial Killer. Just once, I'd like to be attacked by a mute."

Kimberly was looking at Rainie for new instructions. The girl was clearly nervous. Despite her cavalier tone, Rainie was increasingly nervous, too. He was close. He craved intimacy with his victims. He liked to be there for the kill.

"Is Kimberly with you?" the man asked.

"Why? I'm not good enough for you?" Rainie was desperately looking around the room. The fire escape was clear, the hotel-room door clear. Where else could he come from? What had they missed?

And then she got it. Simultaneously, she and Kimberly both looked up. Jesus Christ, there was the tip of a drill bit coming through their ceiling. How the hell had he done that?

"Go!" Rainie yelled.

Kimberly dashed for the front door just as the man said, "Thank you, Rainie. I'd love to come in."

Too late, she realized her mistake. If he'd been actively drilling, they would've heard it, so it had to have been sometime earlier. And peering beneath the door was never foolproof. All the person had to do was stand to one side. Rainie shot to her feet.

But Kimberly had already flung open the door and his gun was already pointed at her chest.

"Carl Mitz," Rainie snarled.

And Kimberly whispered shakily, "Oh my God – Dr. Andrews."

"I'll take your guns, please," Dr. Andrews announced, stepping into the hotel room and kicking the door shut behind him. He was dressed plainly today. Tan chinos, white-collared shirt. He looked like anyone walking down the street, except that in addition to a large black canvas bag slung over his left shoulder, he also carried a 9mm semiautomatic. The barrel was now four inches from Kimberly's heart. The girl couldn't take her eyes off of it. Her face had gone bone-white.

"You don't surrender your weapon," Kimberly told him in an unnatural tone of voice. "An officer should never surrender her weapon!"

"Hand over the gun, Kimberly," Rainie told her tersely. "For Christ's sake, this isn't the police academy's final exam and you're not bullet-proof!"

"One of us will live," Kimberly insisted in that same tone of voice. "He'll fire, but he can't kill us both."

"Kimberly – "

"It's all my fault. Look at him. Don't you get it? It's all my fault!"

Dr. Andrews smiled. He let the large canvas bag slide from his shoulder. It landed heavily on the floor. "Very good, Kimberly. I was wondering when you were going to figure that out. After all, I did tell you that I wouldn't be a stranger."

"But my anxiety attacks – "

"I tailed you. Just because I was willing to confess that you would know your own killer, didn't mean I wanted you to know that you'd already met him. Frankly, didn't it ever occur to you that you hardly saw me after your sister's funeral? You thought I was giving you time off to recover. But I was really buying myself time to destroy your family. We all have our priorities." He gestured to his sharply pressed pants and white linen shirt. "What do you think of my new look, by the way? The right wig, nicely tailored clothes, contact lenses… I wasn't always such a wreck as a professor, you know. I just thought you'd find me more comforting in tweed. So over the years, I became more and more dowdy, and you became more and more trusting. Interesting that for your mom and Mandy, I had to reverse the process. Now drop your gun and kick it over to me slowly."

"Ithought you were my friend! My mentor! I told you so much about my family. My father, my mother, my sister… And all along… All along…" Kimberly's body convulsed. She looked like she was going to be physically ill, yet she still didn't lower her Glock.

"Kimberly," Rainie growled. She was sweating pro-fusely, reluctant to let go of her own pistol and feeling. the situation spinning dangerously out of control.

Andrews looked at her. Kimberly noticed the change in his gaze and followed his eyes toward Rainie. No, Rainie started to yell, but she was too late. The instant Kimberly's focus left Andrews, he chopped his left hand down hard on her right forearm. The girl cried out, her gun slipping from nerveless fingers onto the floor. Rainie jerked up her own pistol, but found Andrews's weapon already trained at her body.