“I just don’t have a good feeling about it.”

Rafe toyed with the label on his beer bottle, hesitating. “I think you just came home and got nervous because Madison looks so much like Lainie did…when Lainie was killed.”

Kyle shook his head, wondering why his brother’s words were suddenly making him feel as if he had missed something. “It’s not that. Besides, Harry Nore was certifiably insane, and he was caught.”

Rafe shrugged. “I don’t think Madison ever believed that Harry Nore killed her mother.”

“She accepted it. The cops had him, along with the murder weapon—with traces of Lainie’s blood still on it.”

“She accepted it because she was a kid and she was told that was what happened. She had no choice.”

“The evidence against Nore was damning, and that’s my point. Madison has gone through enough.”

“Oh, she’s stronger than you think. Besides, little bro, you can’t just come waltzing back into town when you’ve been gone for years and think you’re going to boss the family around.”

“I don’t think that,” Kyle said with a scowl. “I just don’t like…I don’t like her being involved. It makes me nervous as all hell.”

“Then get her uninvolved.”

“How?”

Rafe laughed. “How the hell do I know? You’re the damned FBI agent!” He sobered suddenly. “Okay, so this is a nerve-racking case. More and more about what’s going on is making its way into the newspapers, and lots of people are getting nervous. Maybe this is a bad one. Maybe you’re right and Madison shouldn’t be involved. Find a way to keep her busy elsewhere. Have her kidnapped to a desert island for the time being.”

“Right. Then the FBI will be after me.”

Rafe laughed easily. “I’m sure you can think of something. Do your best to keep her out of it.”

Kyle stood suddenly.

“Where are you going?” Rafe asked.

“I’m going to call her. I’ve heard from everyone else—hell, Trent even gave me a call. I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s a big girl now,” Rafe reminded him.

Kyle nodded and headed toward the phones. He had a cellular, but he hated the damned thing, and he’d left it in the hotel room.

He dialed Madison’s number. Her machine picked up. “Madison, it’s Kyle. Pick up. Madison, I’m going to wait. I’m going to keep talking. It’s Kyle. Pick up.”

She didn’t do so. He tried ringing her number once again. Once again he got the machine.

He hung up and walked back to Rafe, glancing at his watch. “Eleven o’clock on a weeknight. Where the hell is she?”

“Out on a date?” Rafe suggested.

“She has a kid.”

“Yeah, well, women with kids go out on dates.”

He cast his brother a glare. “Then the baby-sitter would pick up.”

“Right. But you’re forgetting that Darryl is in town. Maybe Carrie Anne’s with him. Maybe she is, too.”

“Madison and Darryl are divorced—”

“Yeah, well, they’re still close. Real close. Friends. Who knows, maybe once they’ve both sown a few wild oats they’ll get back together again. Kyle, she’s all right. Wake up and smell the coffee. She’s probably sleeping at Darryl’s house. You can’t come home and start chasing her around.”

“I’m not trying to chase her around. I’m worried about her.”

“Kyle, she’s all grown up. You’re not even really related to her, plus you left her life years ago. I’m telling you, you can’t be her guardian angel now.”

“Maybe not.”

They talked about stocks, Rafe telling Kyle where he should invest.

“You’re going to have to make good investments, there just aren’t that many really rich FBI agents,” Rafe reminded him.

It was late when Kyle finally left his brother.

Late when he went to bed after two beers.

He should have slept quickly, and well.

He didn’t.

At first he lay awake wondering what it was that he should be seeing and just wasn’t realizing. Something in the pictures of the victims, in the forensic reports.

He crawled out of bed and started going through the reports once again. What was it?

Then it hit him, and he realized it had taken him so long because the picture he had of Julie Sabor was in black and white.

Redheads.

They were all redheads.

Maria Garcia had been very dark, but still, there were traces of red in her hair. And the corpse today…

He felt ill. More worried than ever about Madison. He tried her house again.

She didn’t answer.

He hung up. Rafe had all but told him that she still slept with her ex. He could check with Darryl, except that he didn’t have any idea where Darryl was staying.

It was really late, but he called Jassy. She came on the line sounding really sleepy. “Madison could be at Darryl’s, but she’s probably home. She turns the ringer down on her phone after ten all the time because Carrie Anne is such a light sleeper. Call her in the morning, Kyle. I’m sure she’s fine.”

He thought about driving out to her house then and there, and banging on the door until she acknowledged him. She would be really ready to kill him, though, and more prone than ever to ignore his warnings. He had to be calm, had to tell himself that it was a good thing she was probably sleeping safely with her ex-husband, that he should get a grip and wait until morning.

He lay awake.

Finally he dozed.

And he dreamed.

He dreamed once again that he and Madison were in the same house. And he was moving down a darkened hallway, trying to get to her. He was wearing a towel. He’d showered, and he was intent on one thing—Madison. It was simply time. It didn’t matter that they always argued when they talked. It was time. She knew it just as well as he did. It didn’t have anything to do with the kind of emotion that had tied him to Fallon. It had nothing to do with the past or the future, and she knew that, too.

So he walked down the hall. And in his dream the hallway was dark and misty. Long.

Like the hallway in the house Lainie Adair had shared with Roger Montgomery, all those years ago.

Madison was at the end of the hallway, in her room. There was a soft yellow light emanating from her room, sweeping around her. She was wearing a towel, as well. Her hair was dry, burning red in the strange light, creating a cape around her naked shoulders as he walked down the hallway. Her chin was up, her eyes were bright, her lips were poised to speak. She was going to tell him what he should be doing with himself, except it didn’t matter. What she said didn’t matter. She was waiting, because they both knew that there had to be an outlet for what they were feeling.

His groin tightened.

He met her eyes. Felt the electric fury that burned within her because she wanted him and he knew it. She didn’t want to want him, and she definitely didn’t want him to know that she wanted him….

He just smiled. And walked closer.

That was when it happened….

When the darkness suddenly deepened. When she suddenly seemed so far away from him. When the air itself changed. When he felt…

A presence.

Someone between them.

Someone lurking in the shadows that were suddenly becoming deeper and deeper. Someone waiting. Someone evil, threatening Madison…

Out of the pitch-darkness he suddenly saw the silver glitter of a knife. Big, long, a butcher’s knife, wickedly sharp. It hung in the air, as if suspended in the darkness of a haunted castle in an amusement park, the strings hidden by the eerie lack of light.

The silver streaked through the air.

The shadows shifted and moved.

Madison screamed….

Kyle awoke, drenched in sweat.

For several long seconds he sat there, realizing he’d been dreaming, that he was in his bed in his hotel room, that morning’s light was just beginning to filter into his room.

Six-thirty.

The alarm went off.

He nearly jumped off the bed.

Get a grip! he warned himself in silent self-disgust. He crawled out of bed and into the shower, jumping when the water hit him, cold as ice at first.