"He's a patient," Michelle snapped, and too late realized she shouldn't have said anything. She'd sounded defensive, which, of course, only fueled Megan's overactive imagination.

Megan pulled the curtain back. "This is Detective Harris," she said.

The woman was tall, strikingly attractive, with an oval face and piercing eyes. As she strode forward, Michelle could see the lines at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. Dressed in a pair of black pants, sensible black shoes, and a pale blue blouse, she moved toward Theo. When she extended her hand to shake his, Michelle noticed the badge and gun clipped to her belt.

Harris didn't waste time on preliminaries. "I want to hear exactly what happened last night. Chief Nelson filled me in on what

went down, but I want to hear your version."

"Where is Ben?" Michelle asked.

"He went back to your house to finish sweeping the crime scene." She gave Michelle a cursory once-over before continuing.

"I'll take whatever he bags back to the lab in New Orleans."

Theo studied Harris while she talked to Michelle. The detective was like a thousand other police officers he'd known. There was

a weariness about her as though she'd been exhausted most of her life. Her attitude was brittle and hard.

"How long have you been with the department?" he asked.

"Four years in homicide," she responded impatiently. "Three years with vice before the transfer."

Ah. Vice. That explained it. "So what brought you to Bowen?"

"If you don't mind, I'll ask the questions."

"Sure," he said agreeably. "Just as soon as you answer mine."

Her lip curled in what Theo thought might have been an attempt at a smile. "If Nelson hadn't already told me, I would have guessed you were an attorney."

Theo didn't respond to the comment. He simply waited for her to answer his question. She tried to out-stare and intimidate him,

but she lost on both counts.

With a sigh, she answered, "I got a tip… a good, reliable, inside tip that a hitter I've been trailing for three long years is setting

up here. I was told he's in Bowen to do a job, and, I swear to God, I'm going to get him this time."

"Who is he?"

"A ghost. At least, that's what some of the guys in homicide call him, because he vanishes into thin air every time I get close. According to my informant, he's calling himself Monk these days. I've put him with two murders in New Orleans in the past year. We're pretty sure he killed a teenager in Metairie, and we think the girl's father paid for the hit so he could collect insurance, but we can't prove it."

"How do you know it was Monk?" Theo asked.

"He left his calling card. He always does," she explained. "My informant is close to Monk, knows his routine. He told me that Monk leaves a long-stemmed red rose as proof that he did the job. He always makes the murders look like accidents or suicide, and in every case I've been involved in, someone benefits from the death."

"A father had his child killed so he could get money?" Michelle rubbed her arms as though to ward off a chill. That a father would do such a monstrous thing was staggering. She felt sick to her stomach. That poor child.

"The rose was missing from the girl's bedroom," Harris continued. "But there was one petal, still uncurled, half under the dresser. On another case, the crime unit found a thorn stuck in the bedspread. Monk does most of his work at night when his victims are sleeping."

"Who was the victim in the second case you mentioned?" Theo asked.

"An old man, a wealthy grandfather whose only relative had a heavy drug problem."

"From what you've told me about this man," Theo said, "it doesn't seem his style to work with others. He sounds like a loner."

"Until now, he has acted alone, but my gut's telling me he was at the doctor's house last night."

"If he was involved," Michelle said, "then he must be after the package. Maybe there's something inside that will incriminate him or the person who hired him."

"What package?" Harris asked sharply. She looked as if she was about to pounce on Michelle for withholding information.

Michelle explained, and when she was finished, the detective couldn't hide her excitement.

"You're telling me you can ID one of them? You saw his face and you're certain he's the man who came up to you at the stadium?"

"Yes."

"My God, wouldn't that be a piece of luck if the man you saw was Monk. No one's seen him before, but now with a description…"

"I'd like to talk to your informant," Theo said.

She shook her head. "You think I have his phone number? It doesn't work that way. He calls me when he feels like it, and he always uses a pay phone. We've traced the calls, but a car never gets there in time. He's as elusive as the ghost."

"Okay," Theo said. "What about your file on Monk?"

"What about it?"

"I want to see it."

She ignored his request. "We've got to find that package," she said to Michelle. "No hint of what might be inside?"

"Not yet."

"I'm going to get Monk this time. I swear it on my mother's grave. He's so close I can almost smell him."

"I want to see your file," Theo repeated. This time he made sure she understood he wasn't asking. He was demanding.

She gave him an icy stare without responding.

Michelle hurried to diffuse the antagonism. "We'll help you any way that we can, Detective."

Harris was still looking at Theo as she answered. "The best way to help is to stay out of my way. I'm running this operation. Is that understood?"

When Theo didn't answer, she cleared her throat nervously. "I'll put a net around the area and start squeezing. You take the doctor home and stay there. If you hear or see anything suspect, you call me."

She pulled out two cards and handed one to Theo and gave the other one to Michelle.

"You can always get me on my cell phone."

It didn't take a law degree to know Harris wasn't going to cooperate. She was playing close to the vest, and in retaliation, Theo didn't feel the need to share the information he'd collected with her.

"I'm going to want to see your file, Detective, and I'm going to want to see what's inside that package," he snapped. He wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"You can see what's in the package," she said. "And if it's something unrelated to Monk, then you can investigate to your

heart's content."

"And if there is information connecting Monk?" Michelle asked.

"Then I'm calling the shots. This is my investigation, and I'm not about to let the Feds mess it up. I've spent three long years chasing Monk's shadow, and I've got too much invested to let the FBI interfere. It's not going to happen."

Her contempt was palpable. The unfriendly rivalry between the Bureau and local law enforcement agencies was deep-rooted

and a hell of a nuisance, as far as Theo was concerned. He wasn't in the mood to be diplomatic or play games.

"You're worried the FBI will take your case?" Michelle asked.

"Damn right, I'm worried. Three years," she repeated. "I'm going to get Monk, and when I do, I'm not going to hand him over to you," she told Theo.

"Hey, I'm an attorney with the Justice Department. I don't care what you do with him, unless he's one of the shooters who tried

to kill Michelle and me last night. If that's the case, then you and I are going to have to come to an understanding."

She shook her head and said, "The police chief told me you are on vacation… that you came here to fish. So go fish and let me do my job."

"Look, I understand why you want the collar, but-"

"What?" she demanded before he could finish.

"I'm in, like it or not. You think I'm going to sit around and wait? Maybe I didn't make myself clear. He tried to kill us."

Harris was irate. "I'm not letting you screw up this investigation."