Michelle shook her head and made the sign of the cross over her chest. Hector followed suit. Madison was tempted to do likewise as she stared at Kyle.

“Oh dear,” Sheila murmured, “what a depressing end to such a wonderful evening.” She stood very close to Kyle, smiling up at him. “I admit I’m afraid to go home alone now.”

“Kyle has a car, he’ll see you home,” Madison said, even though she hated the thought of Kyle driving Sheila home.

Was she protecting Jassy? she thought, mocking herself.

She felt a little sick inside. Jassy was newly in love. If it wasn’t Kyle, could it be…?

Oh, God, she had to talk to her sister.

“That would be wonderful,” Sheila said, staring at Kyle. She appeared so petite, charming and wide-eyed with trusting adoration that Madison wanted to shake her.

“Sure,” Kyle said, staring at Madison. “We’ll take Sheila home before going to your father’s place.”

Sheila looked disgruntled; it wasn’t quite what she’d had in mind. But she acquiesced, and it seemed that she really was somewhat nervous. She livened up, however, on the drive to her house, chatting away with Kyle in the front seat. She talked about being alone and how much she usually loved her independence. “Of course, now…but I refuse to allow an animal like that to ruin my life! I don’t ever want to talk about him anymore. Madison, I hear your father is attending a gallery opening sponsored by Kyle’s father. How intriguing that they remained such good friends.”

“The opening is Sunday,” Kyle told her. “We’d love to have you.”

“Why, I’d love to come with you. Thank you so very much.”

Kyle frowned. “Sheila, I didn’t—”

“Oh, there’s the house, right there. I’ll just run in quickly. I’ve got my key—of course, I’m all thumbs right now. I hate to be such a nervous Nellie, but would you please come with me and just take a quick look around…?”

Madison kept quiet, all but seething in the back seat. Sheila knew damned well that Kyle hadn’t asked her to the gallery opening on a date; it had been a general invitation. But Sheila had stated plainly that she was going to make a play for him, and that was what she was doing.

Kyle parked the car in front of Sheila’s. But he didn’t follow Sheila along the walk. He got out and looked into the back seat, at Madison. “Come on.”

“I’ll just stay here and wait for you. I think she wants a kiss good-night.”

He shook his head, a slight smile on his lips. “Madison, surely you’ve seen enough slasher movies. The guy leaves one girl alone in the car, and, well, you know where it goes from there. I’m not leaving you alone. Come with me.”

“I’m not in any danger.”

“How do you know?”

“I’d sense it.”

He shook his head and was suddenly grave. “I think that’s my main paranoia in all this. I’m really afraid that you won’t sense it if you do become endangered yourself. Besides…”

“What?”

“You might not be in danger, but I am.”

“From…?”

“Sheila,” he said bluntly. “Get out. Come with me.”

“Sheila is just as cute as a button.”

“Yes, she is. Now come on, Madison, get out!” He hesitated. “Please?”

With a deep sigh, she obliged. They walked Sheila to the house, where Kyle managed to explain rather charmingly that he couldn’t actually bring Sheila as his date, since he was obliged to be his father’s gofer for the evening. Sheila promised that she would be there even so, and said that if she could help in any way, any way at all, well, she would be delighted to do so.

They left Sheila’s place and drove out to Jordan Adair’s waterfront estate. Martique was there, sleepily greeting them in the foyer, despite the quiet with which they approached the house. She quickly went back to bed, and they were alone, facing one another, once again.

Madison was going to tease Kyle about Sheila and the way he’d managed to wriggle out of an actual date, but he turned on her like a Doberman.

“Madison, I’m being dead serious, and you’re going to listen to me and pay attention. The news is out. And people will panic. Half the women in Miami will be buying handguns by tomorrow. I just pray that there won’t be any accidental deaths caused by someone who’s frightened and trigger-happy. But I’m telling you, Madison, and I mean it—don’t go off without letting me know again. Me. You made a fool out of me today, and you might have put yourself into grave danger.”

“Kyle! Damn it, I’m grateful, but I didn’t do anything. You made a fool out of yourself. I appreciate the fact that you were worried, but you’re not responsible for me.”

“No? Well, you’re not fit to be responsible for yourself, so someone has to be.” He dragged his fingers impatiently through his hair. “Madison, give me a break here.”

“All right, Kyle, I won’t make a move without your permission!” she muttered sarcastically.

He ignored the sarcasm. “Good,” he told her flatly.

“Fine,” she agreed.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

She turned around and started down the hallway to her bedroom.

“Madison!” he said, calling her back.

“What?” she asked, turning to him. She felt strangely on fire. They were here, together. Martique was here, too, but she had retired to her own little room out back, beyond the pool. Madison had been living so many fantasies regarding him. She was breathless, frightened, burning….

“Madison, have you noticed something?”

“What?”

He hesitated. “Well, I’ve been gone a long time, but…?”

“Yes?”

“Well, Jimmy usually calls on you not so much because you can feel and see from the victim’s point of view, but because…” He hesitated as she frowned at him. “Sometimes you can see the killer, as well. This time you can’t seem to get so much as a glimpse of the killer. What do you think that means?”

She shook her head, swallowing tightly, because he was right.

“I don’t know,” she told him. “Do you?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t. But it’s curious. And frightening,” he added softly.

“I’m all right,” she said firmly.

He nodded. “You will be. Good night, Madison.”

That time, he turned and walked away from her, down his hallway. She heard the door to his bedroom open…

And close.

She gnawed lightly on her lower lip, then turned and walked the distance to her own room. It seemed like a very long walk.

Filled with shadows.

Kyle stayed up late. He plugged in his computer and modem and, despite the hour, contacted Ricky Haines in Virginia. Ricky didn’t care. His wife was a chemist with the bureau, and they were both dedicated to their work.

Ricky sounded a little sleepy, but he assured Kyle that he had been running information through the computer all day, investigating the records of tattoo parlors and trying to come up with some connection in the lives of the four women killed. “Nothing yet, but don’t worry, we’re on the case. How about you?”

“Yeah, I’m on the case. I’m in Key West right now—”

“Key West?”

“My stepsister is the psychic, remember? I followed her down here on a hunch.”

“Yeah, sure. You know your stuff, Kyle.”

Did he? It hadn’t been necessary for him to leave Miami. He’d just been so disturbed, what with the vivid scene in his nightmare and the fact that Madison didn’t answer her phone, that he had to see her. It didn’t actually fall under business. And if the case began to break while he wasn’t even in Miami…

The case wasn’t going to break that easily. Unfortunately.

“Ricky, there is one thing.”

“What’s that, Kyle?”

“They’re all redheads.”

“Are they? From the one picture—”

“I know, you can’t tell. It just appears that she had dark hair. But trust me, every one of the victims was a redhead.” He thought of his stepmother. “Work that angle for a while, okay?”

“Sure.”

He instructed Ricky to modem the most recent information on the lives of the victims into his PC, then said good-night. He sat for a while, studying the records of all four victims. Debra Miller, Julie Sabor and Holly Tyler had all been single, never married. Maria Garcia had been a divorcée. She’d left behind two small children. Her picture flashed on the screen, and Kyle got a sick feeling, deep in his gut. Sometimes he could be analytical. But sometimes it was impossible not to be human, not to feel the pain.