“And killing.”

“And killing,” Kendra repeated. “I’ll have those files for you before noon tomorrow. Promise.”

“See that you do.” Beth waved and left the condo.

There had still been a tinge of coolness in Beth’s voice when she left, Kendra realized.

And Kendra deserved it. Beth had been with her all the way and risked life and limb, and Kendra had pushed her aside when she had chosen to run to Griffin. Yet Beth was still trying to help in any way she could.

She had to find a way to make it up to her, Kendra thought wearily. But right now, she was too tired to think how or when.

She glanced at the objects on the table. Nothing more from Colby. She had recognized and collected all of those painful trophies. She carefully put Sheila Hunter’s memorabilia back in the black bag and set the bag in the foyer by the door.

Then she headed for the shower. Clean up, get to bed, and hope she got some sleep before Stokes called her or pounded on the door. She had an idea it had to be one or the other. She was lucky that Stokes had probably been too involved with explanations about losing a valuable city vehicle to come after her yet. She should probably go on the offensive and call him and offer the bag. It would look much more cooperative.

But she wasn’t up to going on offense or being aggressive right now. She had looked at those trophies, and the memories were still with her.

It was what Colby had wanted, what he had set up, and yet she’d had to fight to get those trophies and give him the satisfaction he wanted.

Damn Schultz. Damn Colby.

And heaven bless the souls of those poor victims he was still using as pawns.

*   *   *

IT WASN’T A TELEPHONE CALL, it was the pounding on the door.

Kendra was having her orange juice the next morning when she heard the door buzzer downstairs. “Good morning, Dr. Michaels,” Stokes said coldly. “I guess you were expecting me.”

“Oh, yes, come on up.”

“I’m on my way.”

The words were followed a few minutes later by the impatient pounding on the front door.

“Come in.” Kendra stepped aside after answering the door. “I would have been stupid not to think you’d be here to question me.” Her gaze went to his face. It was scratched, and there was a purple lump below his left eye. “You look a little worse for wear.”

“So do you,” he said. “You do know I saw you on that hillside?”

“Yes. Do you expect me to deny it? I was the one being hunted like an animal. Why shouldn’t I hide? You didn’t identify yourself. I didn’t know it was you following me until you started stumbling down that hillside. It could have been anyone.”

“Like Eric Colby.”

“It was one possibility,” she said sarcastically.

“I would have identified myself if you’d—”

“You didn’t advise me I was under surveillance, either.”

“That went without saying.”

“You’re right, I should have known you’d tail me. But the rest you didn’t handle with any great finesse.”

He scowled. “That’s what my superintendent told me. You’re going to be charged for the destruction of my vehicle.”

“How? I was nowhere near it. You saw me at the time that it went off the road.”

“You had a Beth Avery with you when you left your condo. She wasn’t on that hillside.”

“And how are you going to prove it was her? No witness. You left the engine running. It could have been an accident.”

“We’ll find proof.”

“Look, I know that you were probably given a hard time by your superiors. You’re still smarting from it. We had no intention of causing you any problem. That’s not why we were out there.” She turned and grabbed the black plastic bag she had set in the foyer. “This is why we were on that hillside. Take it.”

He opened the bag and looked inside. “What is it? It looks like a bunch of bottles and statues.”

“That’s what it is. It’s a collection of objects taken from Sheila Hunter’s houseboat the night of her murder.”

“By you?”

“Of course not.”

“Colby?” he asked scornfully.

“No, though he certainly set them out to be found. Along with a few more important items.” She grimaced. “But someone got in Colby’s way and spoiled his little surprise for me. Her lover panicked and gathered them up and took them away.”

“Because he’d killed Sheila Hunter?”

“No, I told you that was Colby.”

“Oh, yes, the ghostly Mr. Colby. Then who stole the things in this bag?”

She shook her head. “I made a deal. In exchange for telling me where he’d hidden the bag, I told him I wouldn’t reveal his name.”

“Which makes you an accomplice to evidence theft.”

“Bullshit. I didn’t steal that bag, I found it. And now I’m giving it to you. It should be easy enough for you to pin down who stole these objects without my telling you. You’ve done checks on all Sheila’s associates. He handled these objects and I’m sure he didn’t do it with gloves on, as Beth and I did. He was too scared.”

He was silent, looking down at the plastic bag. “And all the contents are now present and intact?”

“No.”

His eyes narrowed on her face. “No?”

“But you can have limited access to them.”

“Limited,” he repeated softly. “What the hell do you mean?”

“I turned over several objects to Special Agent Griffin to process.”

“Evidence from my crime scene?”

“Not exactly.” She hesitated, then went for it. “Trophies. There were a number of past victims’ trophies left at the houseboat by Eric Colby. It was done to taunt me, but there’s a possibility they can be verified by the victims’ families and offer proof Colby may still be alive.”

“And then you’d get what you want.”

“It could save lives. Yes, that’s what I want. That’s what you should want.”

“Don’t lecture me on what I should want. I like the idea of bringing the bad guys to justice and protecting the family next door. I’m a cop and a damn good one. At least that’s what I thought until you showed up on my cases.” His eyes were glittering in his taut face. “Since then, I’ve been called on the carpet twice, and I watched my vehicle crash down a hill. What I want is to find Sheila Hunter’s killer and get you out of my life. That’s my job, not to prove your crazy theory is correct. Colby is dead.”

“He’s alive, Stokes. If you don’t believe me, contact Griffin. He had the same doubts, but he doesn’t any longer. Well, that’s not true. But he believes enough to start to feel the situation out. Talk to him, help him.” She paused, gazing at him urgently, with her entire being focused on convincing him. “Look, you helped me that night at the houseboat. Because you knew that I wanted to find Sheila Hunter’s killer. You had some reservations, but you relied on your instincts. Those instincts were right. I’m not guilty of anything but trying to save lives and bring a monster to justice.”

He was silent, his face expressionless. “Are you finished?”

What else could she say? “I guess I am.”

He turned toward the door. “I’m not going to take you in today, but that might come later.” He looked down at the bag in his hands. “You behaved recklessly and without any sense of standard operational procedure. If you destroyed any evidence, you’ll have to face the consequences.”

“Whatever. But will you work with Griffin? Will you let him try to verify those trophies?”

He opened the door. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll let him try to convince me that you’re not crazy, and Colby is still out there. That’s my duty.”

“Thank you, Stokes. You’re an honorable man.”

“Am I? I kind of think you’re honorable, too.” He looked back at her. “But I don’t believe any of this. Colby is stone-cold dead. He can’t do anyone any harm now. You might make your life easier if you accept the truth.”

“I’ve already accepted the truth.”

He shrugged and walked out of the condo.

She stared after him for a moment. Stokes was being more fair than she’d thought he’d be. He could have caused her a megahassle, and he’d chosen to back down and give her a chance.