Harvey wanted Phelps ruined, then dead. No martyred cops on my watch.

He’d followed Webster from the station to the crime scene and now here, the home of the woman who’d been searching the scene for her keys, which she had not found. He wondered how she fit. It was the second time today he’d seen her with Webster.

He hadn’t noticed Webster with any women and he’d been watching him for a long time. He coached pee-wee basketball on Saturdays and on Sundays had dinner with his cop cousin. Mondays he went to Sal’s, and Tuesdays he hit his AA meeting downtown.

That Webster would have a woman made Harvey clench his teeth. His son had planned to raise a family, but VJ would never get that chance. Webster and Phelps had stolen one son’s life. Sent Dell into a depression that had the boy half crazy.

Me, too. He hadn’t had decent sleep in a year. But it would be worth it. Webster hadn’t mistepped, but he would. He had before. It was a matter of time.

He hid his face as a black SUV slid by. He didn’t want any notice until he was ready.

Monday, February 22, 10:00 p.m.

Noah had listened as she’d talked about the women she’d known as Gwenivere and Desiree and now he better understood the victims, and Eve. They weren’t so different, he and Eve. But she wasn’t ready to hear that. Yet.

“Thank you. Comparing the victims’ attraction to the virtual world to an addiction puts it in terms I can better understand,” he said and she sighed, just a little.

“When we can’t meet our needs with what we possess, some of us look for escape, rather than try to change what’s keeping us from what we crave. Change is hard.”

“And addiction is a means, or perhaps the consequence of escape,” he said.

“True. People get sucked in to Shadowland because what they find there meets their needs. Excitement. Attention. Love. Escape from a real world they can’t deal with.” She shrugged. “A lot of the same reasons people drink or do drugs.”

There was so much more he wanted to hear her tell him. But it was late and she was pulling on her gloves. “How will you get in without your keys?”

“My friend Callie has a set. I texted her to bring them over. She should only be a few minutes, so you can go if you want. I’ll be fine.”

Noah bit back his impatience. “Eve, even if Samantha Altman wasn’t in your study, you are connected to two dead women. How do you know you’re not a target?”

“I guess I don’t,” she said, but she clearly didn’t believe she was.

“That doesn’t seem to worry you as much as it should.”

She drummed her fingers on her knee. “Well, I’ve been thinking.”

“Why am I not surprised?” he asked and she smiled wryly.

“Just listen. Let’s assume he met all three victims in Shadowland. He chats them up. Sometimes people forget they’re playing a role. They get caught up and become themselves again. Christy did when she came to Façades. She probably did with him, too. He finds where they live, landmarks around their house where people hang out. You hear of kids being targeted online like this, but adults forget they’re vulnerable, too.”

“Okay. He finds out where they live or he lures them to a meeting place.”

“Exactly. ‘You like sunsets, I like sunsets. You like long walks on a snowy day, me, too. We have so much in common, let’s meet IRL.’ ”

“IRL?”

“In real life. So they meet and the women either take him home or he follows them. He could be local or he could be hitting women all over the country.”

“That makes me feel better,” Noah said sarcastically and her dark eyes flashed.

“I’m not trying to make you feel better. I’m trying to keep from having another woman’s blood on my hands.”

“So you do believe your study is involved.”

“Only because that’s why Christy was in Shadowland to begin with. Martha was there before I started my study and Samantha wasn’t in my study at all. The point is, he’s probably making contact with them. I’m not planning to meet anyone I meet online, so I’m safe. So don’t worry. You worry too much.”

“So do you, Greer the Guardian,” he said softly and her cheeks heated prettily.

He wished he could touch, but knew she’d pull away. Last night he’d been prepared to walk away, for her own good. Now… this was a sign too bold to ignore.

They were at a crossroads, he and Eve. She meant to walk on alone. He didn’t. But he wouldn’t push tonight. She’d said no, after all.

“Touché.” She got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride home. You can go. I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be stup-” He caught himself. “Stubborn,” he amended, then frowned when a shadow moved across a third-floor lighted window. “Do you have a roommate?”

She looked up at the window, worried. “No. If I did, I’d have knocked on the door.”

“Then come, but stay downstairs.” He ran up the stairs, tried the doorknob, hand on his gun, stepping back when the door opened. A man stood, wearing nothing but faded jeans and a towel around his neck. Steel-gray eyes flicked to Noah’s gun, then back up.

“Can I help you?” he asked calmly, but his fists gripped the ends of his towel.

I’m not available, she’d said. Now Noah saw why. People called Jack handsome. Jack had nothin’ on this guy, he thought bitterly. “Who are you? How did you get in?”

The man’s perfect jaw clenched. “I’m a friend of the woman who lives here.”

I’ll just bet you are. “Do us both a favor and don’t move.” Noah took another step back, not taking his eyes from the man. “Eve,” he called loudly. “Come up, please.”

She took the stairs at a fast jog, then paused when she reached her landing. “Oh my God. David?” She flew past Noah, throwing her arms around Mr. Perfect, who spun her around. When he set her on her feet, it was like Noah wasn’t there.

“Let me look at you,” David said and tipped her chin up. “Wow. You look good, kid. Really good. You can barely see…” He trailed off when her smile dimmed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I had a hell of a plastic surgeon.” Her smile returned. “Why are you here?”

“And how did you get in?” Noah repeated carefully.

Eve frowned up at David. “Yeah. How did you get in?”

David frowned back. “You left your door unlocked. Again.”

She shook her head, her face gone pale. “No. I didn’t. I don’t do that anymore. Ever.”

“It was open when I got here. You have to be more careful, Evie.”

“You did leave in a hurry,” Noah said quietly.

“But I always lock my door. Oh my God. My computer-”

“Is still here,” David said calmly and Eve drew a deep breath of relief.

“So what are you doing here?” Noah asked.

David lifted his brows. “Fixing her roof. Who are you again?”

“This is Detective Webster,” she said, still anxious. “Detective, this is my old friend from Chicago, David Hunter.”

Noah shook his hand, even though he didn’t want to. “You came all the way from Chicago to fix her roof?” he asked, annoyed that he sounded so… annoyed.

“She left me a message asking how she could do it herself. I had a few days off and didn’t want her climbing the roof. Look, I’m freezing. Why don’t you come in?”

“It’s okay. I’ve got to get back. Can I talk to Eve for a minute, privately?” He waited until the door was closed. “Does he come often to do home repairs?”

“He’s never visited before.” Eve looked at her door thoughtfully. “I think there’s more to it, but I’ll take a fixed roof for now. It’s been a long day. Go home. I’m fine here.”

He could see that. “You have my cell. And if you go back into Shadowland-”

“Greer will not approach the avatar that was talking to Christy’s Gwenivere last night, and I will call you right away. Nor will I make any dates with avatars. I got it. I’m fine.”

“All right.” He was halfway to street level when she called his name. She looked over the rail, her dark eyes now troubled.