“Did you know any of the other victims?” Lindsey asked.

“I knew of one of the other girls. I saw her around a lot. Mandy Gibson. We didn’t hang or anything.”

“Was Ms. Moore seeing anyone?” Mark asked.

“Her and her boyfriend broke up a few months before . . . um,” she paused and looked down at her hands which started to shake, “you know, she died.”

Lindsay’s voice softened. “I’m sorry. I know how difficult reliving all of this can be. We’ll try and hurry.” When Vicky nodded, seeming to pull herself together, she continued, “This guy she was seeing, was the breakup easy, hard . . . ?”

“As good as breakups can go, you know,” she said with a shrug. “He was a nice guy. Elizabeth just wasn’t the same after her mother’s death.”

“What’s his name?” Mark asked.

“Tom, Tom Maloney. He goes to school with us.”

“This Mandy Gibson, you said you saw her around,” Lindsey said. “As in where?”

“School, out,” the girl stated.

Mark frowned. “Out?”

Vicky opened her mouth to answer but Lindsey interrupted, “Ah-choo.” Lindsey covered her mouth and sniffled. “Sorry, again. Go on, you were explaining what ‘out’ means.”

“Parties and stuff.”

“The Pink Panther?” Lindsey asked.

“Yes, actually, I think so. A few times.”

“Do you have an address for this ex-boyfriend?” Mark asked.

Pushing to her feet, Vicky walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a pad. “Yeah, he lives on campus.” She wrote something down, ripped the page off, and walked back towards them. She handed the small piece of paper to Mark. “This is his address.”

Lindsey and Mark exchanged a look, silently agreeing they were through. They both pushed to their feet. “Well, thank you for all of your help,” Mark said offering her his hand. “We may be in touch again.”

Vicky shook Mark’s hand and then Lindsey’s. “I really want him to pay,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself again.

“We know you do,” Lindsey said as they reached the door, and then had another thought. She turned and faced Vicky. “How long had Elizabeth and Tom been dating?”

Vicky gave Lindsey a puzzled look. “Almost a year.”

Lindsey calculated in her head. The dates of the murders, the time frames. Often serial killers had normal lives, including wives or girlfriends. It was an excellent cover.

She wanted to know more about this boyfriend.

Chapter Six

Lindsey sat down on the floor of Mark’s apartment and rested her back against his couch.

She felt comfortable here, and she couldn’t figure out why. It reminded her of the first time she had met Mark, the way she had felt so drawn to him. Something about him just called to her.

Trying to focus on work, she pulled files out of her briefcase, and plopped them on the coffee table. Glancing at the pile of paperwork, she let out a weary sigh. It had been a long day and exhaustion was making a fast sweep through her body.

She wasn’t sure she was up to doing anymore work tonight.

Besides they had accomplished a lot in a relatively short window of time. Her only regret was they hadn’t managed to track down the ex-boyfriend. They had dropped by his house and even called him several times, to no avail. They had made it through a big portion of the students on the tutoring list. Not that it had offered them much to go on.

So far they were just as much in the dark about what had happened to those girls as they were before.

Lindsey had agreed without hesitation to have dinner at Mark’s place while they reviewed the day’s notes, knowing full well what being alone with him meant. Her morning second thoughts were gone. A day with Mark had made her desire abundantly clear. No way was she going to walk around this thing between them for six months.

She would simply make sure she kept things firmly in her control.

* * * * *

Standing behind the bar, Mark pulled out two wine glasses and then froze, his eyes locked on Lindsey. He was still reeling from her easy acceptance of his dinner invitation. Surely she knew his intentions. The closet kiss was a sure tell-all, and man, what a kiss it was. It took Herculean strength not to take her right there in the closet. He had felt her submission like a sweet reward. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

Perched against his couch, she looked completely at ease in his home, a fact that filled him with an odd surge of pleasure. It also made him want to show her how good they could be together. With that thought in mind, he popped the corkscrew from the wine bottle.

Mark stood above her, with glasses in hand, finding himself spellbound by the sight she made. Her long, blonde hair streamed over her shoulders, soft and silky. Her eyes, green as grass, seemed lit with a seductive message. He handed her one of the glasses and enjoyed the openness of the smile she offered in return. His voice came with effort, his mind and body so weighted by the things this woman made him feel.

“Italian take-out okay by you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes, I love Italian.”

“What do you like?” he asked, anxious to get any distraction out of the way.

“Something with chicken. You order for me, will you?”

Mark didn’t say another word. Funny, but the little bit of control she had just given him made him smile. It was only her dinner choice, but somehow he thought it was symbolic of more. She held onto control, especially around men. It was significant that she had given even a little to him. And he wondered if she recognized what she had offered.

He made quick work of ordering the food before joining her on the floor. Lindsey was staring out the window, sipping her wine, ignoring the files on the table.

“Thanks,” she said and tipped her glass at him. “I needed this.” She took another sip before leaning backwards across the couch in a catlike stretch.

The action draped her soft, blond locks across the black leather and Mark couldn’t help but wish it were his chest. Tearing his eyes away from her profile was an impossible task he didn’t even attempt. “Your sneezing seems to have stopped,” he commented softly, barely keeping his hands from reaching for her.

She darted him a quick smile. “Yes, but my eyes are still burning.” She tipped her chin towards the window. “The view here is amazing at night. I had forgotten the appeal of this city.”

Mark turned his head to the view, sharing her love of the Manhattan skyline. It was his solace on many an evening, giving him peace after a tough look into the world of crime. He had taken great pride in moving into his home, and building a successful life. But lately something had been missing, a void in his life. He glanced back at Lindsey, and realized she somehow filled the hole that had been demanding recognition. Why or what that meant, he didn’t know. Or maybe he just wasn’t ready to face it.

There had been plenty of women in his life, but Lindsey somehow seemed different. She needed him, even if she didn’t admit it. But then again, she didn’t depend on him. He found her independence and strength admirable.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I love this view.”

He turned his gaze on her, rubbing his fingers across his jaw, feeling the bristle of one-day-old whiskers. God, she was something. From the first moment he’d seen her, he’d known he was in trouble. She did something to him. He wished he knew what. Then maybe he could control it. But he didn’t, and he couldn’t, and right now it simply didn’t seem to matter. Unable to resist any longer, he moved closer to her, his hand running down the back of her hair and lingering.

He heard her swift intake of breath as she turned to him. Her words surprised him. He’d expected her to shy away, to resist. But she did just the opposite. “Thank you for today,” she whispered, and ever so softly touched his face before dropping her hand.