A bone. Tiny, delicate. A child's finger bone.

Bonnie?

She felt faint and held on to the cardboard box to keep from falling to the ground.

Hold on. He wants you to hurt.

Oh, God, Bonnie . . .

Don't touch it. Don't touch anything. Maybe he's made a mistake this time.

See, she was getting better. She hadn't been able to leave the rib he'd left for her on the porch.

She could do it now. She could leave that fragile bone lying in the alley if it meant a chance at catching the bastard.

She struggled to her feet and turned off the flashlight.

Fight the pain. Walk.

Don't think of the bone. Don't think of Bonnie.

She couldn't save her daughter, but she might be able to save Jane and Mike.

Are you there, Dom? Go ahead, show me blood. Show me my daughter's bones. Everything you do is making me stronger.

I won't let you win this time.

Chapter NINE

The man's throat had been slashed.

"Son of a bitch."

Joe looked up to see Barbara Eisley standing a few feet away. She took a step closer and looked down at the body that had been rolled into the bushes bordering the house. "The security guard?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Why shouldn't I be here? You wake me up in the middle of the night and tell me that you're coming out here to disturb my people and you expect me to just go back to sleep?" She glanced back at the halfway house in which every light was blazing. "This is my responsibility. Where's Jane MacGuire?"

"I don't know."

"The house mother says she's not in her room. The guard's dead. Could she be dead too?"

"She could be." When Eisley flinched, he added, "But I don't believe so. There was a knotted sheet hanging from her window."

"So she climbed down--and dropped right into a murderer's hands."

"Maybe not."

Eisley's gaze raked his face. "Eve Duncan." She swore beneath her breath. "I told her to stay away from the kid."

"And she told you Jane was in danger. You wouldn't listen. You'd better pray Eve got to her before the man who killed your security guard did." He rose to his feet. "Don't let anyone touch anything or track around this area before the forensic team gets here."

"Where are you going?"

"To find Jane MacGuire."

"If Eve Duncan took her, it's kidnapping." She paused. "But since there are mitigating circumstances, if she returns the child within twenty-four hours, I might persuade the department not to press charges."

"I'll convey your generous offer to her. Providing she ever makes contact with me."

"You have to know where she is. That child has to be found." There was a hint of panic in her voice. "You're friends, aren't you?"

"I thought we were."

He could feel her gaze on him as he walked toward his car at the curb.

You're friends, aren't you?

Friends. Through all the years he'd forced himself to accept the relationship, and now she was even edging away from that.

At the worst possible time.

Screw friendship. Screw hope. I don't give a damn.

Just call and let me know that bastard hasn't gotten to you.

MARK PARKED THE car in front of a Peachtree apartment building. "Who lives here?"

"My mother and her fiance," Eve answered. "She's the only one I could think of who'd be willing to take care of Mike."

Jane looked up at the thirteen-story high-rise. "Your mother?" she said doubtfully.

"She managed to raise me. I believe she can be trusted with Mike."

"Maybe."

Eve sighed with exasperation. Not only would she have to persuade Sandra to help, but her mother also had to win Jane's seal of approval. "He'll be safe here, Jane. The building has security, and my friend, Joe, arranged additional protection for my mother. He'll be fed and protected. What else can you ask for?"

Jane didn't answer as she headed for the front entrance with Mike trailing at her heels.

Eve looked at Mark. "Coming?"

"I don't think so. It's after one in the morning. I'd much rather face our serial killer than wake your mother and her boyfriend from a sound sleep and try to convince them to be instant parents. I'll wait here."

"Coward."

He smiled. "Yep."

She started after the children. She wasn't eager to face the task at hand either. She scarcely knew Ron Fitzgerald. She'd met him only once before she'd left for Tahiti. He'd seemed pleasant, smart, and genuinely devoted to her mother. But he owed Eve nothing.

Then she would tackle him first. Even though she hated imposing on Sandra, she didn't doubt her mother would help. She just didn't want to do anything that would mess up a relationship her mother obviously treasured. She'd ask her to take the kids into the kitchen and fix them something to eat, then explain the situation to Ron and appeal for his help.

"NO," RON SAID flatly. "I won't have Sandra involved in any illegal activities. Take the kids to the police."