From what he had, he couldn’t connect the women—except for the red hair. They lived and worked in different parts of town. Their jobs were completely different. Debra had been a Miami native, Julie from New York; Maria had been a Cuban immigrant, and Holly Tyler had been born in Minnesota. All that seemed to link them was the fact that they were all redheaded, young, vivacious and attractive. Maybe that was all, and maybe that was enough.

Kyle rubbed his forehead, thinking about the methods and motives of serial killers from the past. There was usually something about a woman that sparked something in a killer’s mind. What was it? Just the hair, the vivacity? Where was the killer stalking his victims? Bundy had looked to college campuses, assured that he would find plenty of young, beautiful women there. But these women were slightly older, in their late twenties.

He was getting nowhere. And he wasn’t nearly as tired as he wanted to be. He just didn’t want to shower, then lie awake tossing and turning all night.

Worse. He didn’t want to sleep and dream about trying to reach Madison, just down the hallway, and discover the killer lurking between them, his knife glinting in the moonlight.

Still, he turned off the computer and rubbed his eyes. He rose restlessly, then showered. When he’d soaped and scrubbed, he turned the tap all the way to cold. He stayed under the water for a long while, letting his flesh turn icy.

Finally he emerged from the shower and turned out the lights except for the one in the bathroom, which was just inside and to the left of the door to his room. Years of training had taught him to sleep in darkness and shadows while illuminating any possible entrance.

He closed his eyes, but he couldn’t sleep. He opened them and stared up at the ceiling.

He could just get up, and walk down the hallway. No pretense. Just ask her if she wanted to sleep with him.

Too obvious. Oh yeah. Definitely too obvious.

He could just walk down the hallway and tell her that he’d gone for a drink of water, then taken a wrong turn while heading back to his bed.

She was probably sound asleep.

He’d seen the damned vision in his head so many times. He would step into her room, and there she would be. Maybe in a towel, maybe in silk. It wouldn’t matter. Coverings would drift to the floor. We both want this, let’s stop the arguing, let’s do it, get on with our lives, get it out of our systems, maybe…

He couldn’t do it; just couldn’t. He thought that he knew Madison, thought that sometimes, just sometimes, the way she looked at him, the way she smiled when he caught her off guard…damn, the electricity was just there. If they didn’t get to it soon…

He heard footsteps suddenly. Soft, furtive, moving quickly, just outside his doorway.

He tensed, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and reaching quickly into the nightstand for his. 38 special.

His door opened slowly….

She was caught in the gentle light pooling from the bathroom through the partially closed doorway. She stood for a moment, blinded, while he sat in the darkness.

She wore silk.

A long emerald silk robe that clung to her body. Curved with it. Her hair spilled over it like a riot of fire in the night.

She had come to him.

10

“Say it again, say it again,” Jimmy Gates teased, planting kisses against Jassy’s ankle.

She hesitated, laughing. “Morphometric.”

“Umm…more,” he begged, moving up her calf.

“Periosteum deposits.”

“When you talk medical, I just go mad!”

She burst out laughing, pushing at his shoulder, leaping out of bed.

“Hey!”

“I’m thirsty.”

“Oh, great. I’m making passionate love and you’re after a Pepsi!”

“You’re not making passionate love, you’re teasing me, and you’re making me laugh so hard my ribs hurt! Can I get you anything?”

He patted the bed. “Just you.” He paused a moment and shrugged. “And maybe a Michelob.”

“A Michelob, coming right up.”

Jassy scampered quickly in and out of the kitchen, naked. The light from the bedroom was enough for her to find the refrigerator. She grabbed a Pepsi and a beer, then a bag of chips for good measure, and ran back to the bedroom.

“What a woman!” Jimmy said, his eyes rolling dramatically. “Body parts, beer and chips—all in bed. How did I live so long without you?”

“Frankly, I don’t know,” Jassy assured him, plumping up her pillow so that she could lean back and rip open the chips. “Want a chip?”

“Sounds like heaven.”

He sat up beside her, munching a chip and reaching for the remote control. He flicked on the television, where a local station was showing a repeat of the eleven-o’clock news. He watched the events of the morning, shaking his head. “We’ve got to catch this guy.” He glanced at Jassy unhappily. “You know, I’ve never failed to appreciate your sister, or to look out for her interests, when I’ve asked her to help me, but Kyle has me spooked on this.”

“Why?”

“Well, mainly because he keeps mentioning the fact that all the girls were redheads.”

“From what I understand, there’s usually something that triggers this kind of killer. There was a case in California where a madman went only for brunettes. This man must like redheads. But I…Oh, I see. Madison is a redhead.” She was quiet for a minute. “But I can’t see why Kyle would be especially worried about Madison. Kaila’s a redhead, too.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s going to worry about Kaila, too, except that she’s married, and she’s not likely to take off for the weekend with any new man.”

“Kyle went down to be with Madison?”

Jimmy nodded, swallowing a long drink of beer.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

Jimmy frowned. “It sounds as if you’re worried about her, too.”

“Everyone in the city is going to be spooked by tomorrow. Not that we don’t have our share of homicides to begin with! But a serial killer…Yeah, I’m glad he’s with my sister. He’ll look out for her.” Jassy stared at him. “Why do you still look so unhappy?”

“Your stepbrother has me spooked, as well. And you know what?”

“No, what?”

“I’ve been thinking again.”

“About what?”

“Lainie Adair.”

“Lainie?” Jassy said.

He nodded. “She was definitely a redhead.”

Jassy exhaled. “A redhead with a fiery temper, all right.”

“You didn’t get along with her?”

“Oh, I did! But that’s because I always had my head in a book and I was no threat to her whatsoever. And after she and my father divorced…honestly, I was living with Dad, and I didn’t see her that often. She just infuriated me sometimes, because…”

“Yeah, why?” Jimmy said, leaning back and studying her with interest.

“You want the truth?”

“Sure.”

“She was such a bitch. My father wasn’t enough for her. Roger wasn’t enough for her. They were both desperately in love with her. She had something, a special quality. Naturally, she was very sexy. And she was a star. The problem with her was that everything became a drama, or a game. She liked pitting my father and Roger against each other. She wanted every man in her life to think that she was the one woman he could ever really love. My dad never got over her. When she was mad at Roger, she would come running back to Dad. I don’t know if they slept together once she married Roger, but if they didn’t, it wasn’t because she wasn’t willing. Oh, Lainie could be charming. She adored her daughters, and I have to admit that she was always great to both Trent and me. But the way that she manipulated men was just awful!”

“Not that either Roger Montgomery or your father could be considered chaste, monogamous men,” Jimmy reminded her lightly.

“I guess not. Dad once told me—when she was still alive, of course—that he thought Lainie was God’s punishment on him for all the mean things he’d done to other people. Who knows, if she hadn’t died, she might have had my father and Roger shooting one another!”