The rest of January flew by, and Alexa was swamped at the office. They got a match on Quentin on five victims in Pennsylvania, and one they hadn’t even known about in Kentucky. With the women in Iowa and Illinois, they had thirteen rape and murder victims now. The charges were incorporated into their case, by agreement with the other states, and it was in the press all over the country.

Alexa had made a brief statement to the media, but otherwise declined to comment. She didn’t want to do or say anything wrong. The case was just too important. And there were at least a dozen more victims in question, in a variety of states where he had traveled. It had turned into a national story, and Alexa was constantly meeting with detectives from other states. Jack was gathering information, and Alexa was already busy preparing for the trial. Finally, in early February, Alexa had time for a quiet dinner with her mother after work.

“You look tired,” her mother said, looking worried.

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better. I only have three months till the trial.” She was up till three in the morning every night, reading case law and making notes.

“Well, just don’t wear yourself out totally. How’s Savannah? Has she heard anything from the schools yet?”

“Not till March or April,” Alexa answered with a sigh. “She’s going skiing with her father next week. If he shows up. Most of the time, he flakes on her. He’ll probably do it again,” Alexa said with a look of irritation. She hated his disappointing Savannah, who always forgave him. It was enough that he had hurt her.

“Maybe he won’t flake this time,” Muriel said quietly. “I hope not.”

“Why?” Alexa asked, looking exasperated. She hated her ex-husband, everything he stood for, and everything he’d done to them. He had banished them from his life, out of weakness. It had been easier for him to give in to his mother and ex-wife than to stand by them. She loathed the worm he had turned out to be. “Why do you hope he won’t flake?” Alexa asked, suddenly angry at her mother.

“Because it’s good for her to see her father, at least once in a while. She loves him. You may hate him, and I understand that, I don’t like him either, for what he did to you. But he’s still her father, Allie. Better the reality, with all its flaws and frailties, than a fantasy she makes of him.” Alexa smiled at what her mother said. She hadn’t called her “Allie” in years. But Alexa was still a child to her, just as Savannah always would be to Alexa and still was now.

“Maybe you’re right,” Alexa said, backing down. “But I grew up without a father. It didn’t kill me. And Tom is such a jerk.”

“She’ll figure that out for herself. Give her time.”

“I think she already knows it but loves him anyway.”

“Give her that. She needs it. For now at least.”

“It always upsets her that I won’t see him. I haven’t seen him in ten years and hope I never do again.”

“Is he coming to her graduation in June?”

“I asked her not to invite him,” Alexa said guiltily. “She said she’s giving me four years’ notice, and she wants him at her college graduation.” Alexa smiled ruefully at her mother. “I guess I have no choice. She’s a good sport about it, and I try not to say too much, but she knows how I feel about him. It’s no secret between us.”

“You need to get over it,” her mother said quietly, and Alexa looked at her in surprise.

“Why? What difference does it make if I hate him?”

“Because it poisons you. And you’ll never have a decent relationship with another man if you don’t put it behind you and stop hating him.”

Alexa’s jaw looked set in stone. “Check back with me in thirty or forty years. Maybe I’ll have Alzheimer’s by then.” Her mother made no further comment, and Alexa went home to Savannah, who was lying on her bed and watching TV.

“How was Grandma?” she asked, looking sleepy. She had finished all her homework and had spent a quiet evening alone.

“Fine. She sends you her love.”

Alexa went to hang her coat up in the hall closet, and saw the envelope sticking under the door. She hadn’t seen it when she walked in. She picked it up cautiously by a corner. It was the same childlike handwriting as before. She didn’t say anything to Savannah, and opened it after she put on a pair of rubber gloves she kept in a drawer. It said “I know where you are every minute of the day. Look around. You can’t see me. You’re a beautiful girl.” There was no overt threat in it, but whoever had written it wanted her to know that she was being watched, and by a man who was lusting after her. Alexa was scared, terrified in fact, as she put the letter in a plastic bag, just as she had done before.

She didn’t say a word about it, but walked into her bedroom and closed the door. She called Jack on his cell phone, he answered immediately, and she told him about the letter. Alexa was holding it carefully in the plastic bag.

“I don’t even know if it’s real. It may just be someone trying to be cute, or scaring her. But if some guy is following her, I don’t like this at all.” There was a long silence at Jack’s end, and he finally admitted he didn’t either.

“Why don’t I give you a cop for her? He can go to school with her.” Alexa hated to frighten Savannah, but she knew she had no choice. She had known when she took the Quentin case that there could be threats to her. She hadn’t bargained on them being aimed at Savannah instead. These weren’t direct threats, but there was a menace to them anyway. And if this was being orchestrated by Luke Quentin, it was even more frightening if he was having some previously convicted felon follow Savannah. She couldn’t prove that, but even the remote possibility of it made her feel sick.

“I haven’t told her about this letter yet, but I guess I have to. Thanks, Jack. I do want a cop for her,” she confirmed. She was afraid for Savannah, not herself.

“No problem. Try not to worry about it. It probably has nothing to do with Quentin, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. Who knows what kind of creeps he knows.” Everyone he knew or hung out with had been in prison.

Alexa decided not to worry Savannah at bedtime and told her what the letter said over breakfast. Savannah made a face. “That’s so creepy, Mom. The guy is sick.”

“Yes, he is. I called Jack Jones about it last night. He’s going to give you a plainclothes cop to go to school with, just to be on the safe side, in case someone really is watching you. I’d rather be smart about this. It may just be a prank, but I don’t want to take the chance.” The case she was working on was a reminder of just how dangerous some men were.

Savannah looked instantly upset. “That’s so embarrassing, Mom. How long do I have to have that?”

“Let’s see if he writes to you again. It could be till after the trial.” Until she knew if the notes were due to Quentin or not, she wanted Savannah protected and out of harm’s way.

“That’s three months away!” Savannah shrieked at her. “Maybe even four!” She knew enough about her mother’s work to know that the trial could last a month, and this was going to be a big trial, with thirteen victims, and maybe more by then. “I’d rather stay home from school than look stupid with a cop with me every day.”

“Well, you can’t stay home from school. So suck it up,” Alexa told her, relieved that Savannah was more upset about the cop than the potential danger. She was still ranting and raving when their doorbell rang five minutes later, and a handsome young boy with dark hair and big brown eyes wearing a baseball cap and jacket stood smiling at them both. He said he was Officer Lewicki, but to just call him Thad. He smiled at Savannah, and she stared at him as Alexa tried not to smile. It was easy to see that Savannah thought he was cute. Who wouldn’t? He looked about sixteen years old, and was probably only a few years older than that, close to Savannah’s age. She had imagined some old geezer in a uniform. Thad Lewicki was anything but that.