“It’ll work out,” he said, because it was better than nothing.

He didn’t know what to say to her. Yes, he did.

Stay.

* * * * *

The minute Lindsey walked into her apartment she knew someone had been in it. She stopped dead in her tracks just inside the foyer, making Mark run into the back of her.

“Hey, what are you doing?” His hands went to her shoulders to keep from knocking her down.

“Someone has been in here.” The phone calls were back in her mind. Was it the same person who had been in her house? Worse, could it . . . She cut off the thought, afraid to even think it in her head. No. It wasn’t. This was New York. Anyone could have broken into her place.

“What?” he asked in amazement. “How can you know?”

Lindsey shot him a look. “I make my living knowing things like this.”

Mark held his hands up. “Sorry,” he said. “Let me rephrase.” But he didn’t. “How do you know?”

“One, I smell cologne.” She shivered. The thought of someone being in her apartment made her hair stand on end. She moved to the table a few steps away and pulled out the drawer, removing her gun, which she had left behind. She hadn’t wanted to deal with it at the airport.

“Shit,” Mark said. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Checking it out,” she said shooting him a reproachful look.

“Give me the damn gun and stand outside,” he ordered.

“No, Mark—”

He glared at her. She glared at him. “This is not up for discussion, Lindsey. Give me the damn gun, and don’t you dare ask if I know how to use it.”

Lindsey stared at him and then finally handed him the gun. She didn’t doubt he could handle the weapon. She just didn’t like having to let him. If he had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have. “I’m not happy about this.”

Mark took the gun. “I’ll be back. Don’t move.”

“You’re two seconds from me taking the gun back.”

He turned without saying another word, walking towards the other room. Lindsey could barely stand waiting on him, and was about a second from going after him, when he returned. “Well?”

“It’s all clear,” he said, “but you’re right, someone was in your bedroom. Better call the police.”

Lindsey stared at him. “What does that mean?” He looked like he didn’t want to tell her, appearing to stall as he handed her back her gun. She put it in her purse. Something told her she wanted it near. “Mark? Are you going to answer me?”

He let out a loud breath. “Your sheets are rumpled and lingerie is flung everywhere.”

Lindsey could feel the color drain out of her cheeks. “What?” she gasped.

Mark’s tone was grim. “You said you smelled cologne? Is it familiar?”

Lindsey nodded, still trying to make this all seem real in her mind. “But I can’t place it.”

Mark put his hand on her back and urged her to step into the apartment. “Call Steve and have him come over.” Then he had a better thought. “Why don’t I call him and you sit down and get your bearings back.”

“I’m fine really. This doesn’t seem real.” On second thought, “But yeah, okay, you call Steve.”

She followed Mark into the living room and sat down. She was thankful she had let Mark search her place. Finding the bed a mess firsthand might have been too much. Something inside her was certain this wasn’t some freak break-in. This was about the phone calls . . . . and about Hudson.

She knew it was him, the killer, the rapist: the crazy man who had invaded her life in far too many ways.

The realization hit her like a two by four. Her insides felt like they started to shake, and she felt a coldness creep into her limbs, taking over her mind. She hardly remembered giving Mark the number to call Steve. The deep rumble of Mark’s voice as he spoke to Steve barely registered.

“He’s on his way.” Lindsey heard the words, but somehow they seemed to be in a tunnel, muffled and far away. Mark’s hand was on her leg, warm and comforting. “Lindsey?”

Jarring herself back to reality she blinked twice and then cleared her throat. “Ye . . .” She couldn’t quite get her voice back. “Yes?”

“Why do I know you’re not telling me something?” He was searching her face, his eyes probing.

Her mouth and lips were dry. She swallowed. “It’s just a feeling I have.”

“Talk to me. What feeling?”

She could barely get the words out. “It’s him.”

His response was to sit down beside her and pull her close. He held her, not saying a word, and she was so glad. Talking wouldn’t have helped right now. She needed to calm down first. They sat there for several long minutes before Mark spoke. “It’s not safe for you to stay alone.”

Lindsey looked up at him. “I was going home with you anyway.”

He looked down at her with concern etched in his every feature. His brown eyes burned with emotions so intense Lindsey could feel them like a touch of his hand. “Yes, but you can’t stay here alone until this guy is caught.”

Painfully, she accepted the truth. She was going to be under lock and key until this guy was caught. Between Mark and Steve, they would watch her like hawks. “I know.”

He took her hand in his and pressed her palm against his mouth. “I know how difficult this is for you. I want you to stay with me where I know I can keep you safe. On the other hand, I don’t want you to feel pressured—but you have to stay somewhere safe.”

Lindsey forced a smile. There was no question she wanted to be with him. “I’ll stay with you.”

A knock on the door had Mark pushing to his feet. Lindsey followed, eager to see Steve and start solving this. Just moving, getting into action, was helping her get herself pulled back together again.

Lindsey answered the door while Mark hung back a little. Steve greeted her with a strong hug that almost squeezed the air out of her chest. He was worried. With him was his partner Garth, and Lindsey waved to him over Steve’s shoulder.

“Hi Garth.” He had soft gray eyes, understanding and calm. She liked that about Garth. He was a good match for Steve. Both were good guys but with opposite demeanors. Garth tended to take things in, silent for the most part. Steve on the other hand was a jump-in and make-a-splash kind of guy. Not as extreme as Lindsey, but enough so that even when he complained about her off-the-wall tactics, he didn’t refuse to go along for the ride.

Steve pulled back. “You okay?”

Nodding, Lindsey said, “I’m fine.”

Mark had moved to stand directly behind Lindsey. He quickly introduced himself to Steve and Garth, sparing no time before getting down to business, filling them in on what he’d found. Within half an hour, Lindsey’s apartment had turned into a madhouse of activity.

Lindsey stood back, watching as items were dusted for prints and bagged.

Watching had her on edge. She felt as if her life was one big whirlwind she couldn’t control. When Steve and Mark asked her to go have coffee with them, she agreed. They needed to talk, and it would be easier someplace else. Garth was more than capable of seeing things through at her place.

Once they were at the coffee shop, she settled into a chair between Mark and Steve. Funny how Steve had once been the only man she trusted. Now she included Mark on her trust list.

“I just got assigned the Williams case,” Steve said, resting his foot on his knee. “The FBI was called in some time back, but it was considered a slam-dunk. The agent involved is heavy into another case right now. I asked some questions, got permission to look at the case a bit closer. So let’s compare notes.”

Lindsey told them about her field visits. “I think the owner of the Pink Panther is a good suspect.”

“Not the boyfriend?” Steve asked.

“Ex-boyfriend,” Lindsey amended, “and I’m not ruling him out. At this point, how can we rule anyone out?” She had an idea. “Seems to me we are in a position of power.”

Both men perked up. “How so?” Mark asked.