“I’m the trump card,” she said. “The perfect bait.”

Mark and Steve chimed in at the same time. “Oh, no.”

“No way,” Mark insisted. “Not even considering this option.”

“It makes sense,” Lindsey said firmly, refusing to have her idea dismissed. “I can’t sit around and wait to be attacked.” She glared at both men. “Correction, I won’t.”

Mark took a deep breath, his tension evident. “No way, Lindsey. We are not using you as bait.”

Steve cleared his throat. “Both of you, please, hear me out.” Dropping his leg off his knee to the floor, Steve leaned forward. “I called and spoke to a profiler on my way over here. I figured we are dealing with different circumstances than what we thought in the past. So I thought maybe some new insight was needed. The guy I talked to didn’t know the case, so I explained the general points.” Steve sighed. “He gave me his off-the-record opinion.” He hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure he should continue.

“Well?” Lindsey prodded, suddenly feeling more anxious than before.

Steve’s face was grim. “He called this guy a ‘lust killer.’”

Lindsey wasn’t getting the point. “We knew that. He kills for the sexual high.”

“Right,” Steve said, “but you didn’t think that fit Hudson. At the time he wasn’t a killer.”

Lindsey nodded. “True.”

“The profiler said lust killers start out small, like Hudson raped and didn’t murder, but once they crossed the line, they get off on the thrill of the kill and can’t stop.”

“Which fits if we are dealing with one man,” Mark offered.

“We are,” Lindsey said with confidence.

“Okay, here’s where this gets sticky,” Steve said, eyeing Lindsey. “I asked about this fixation on you.”

“I wouldn’t call it a fixation,” she argued.

“It is,” Steve said, dismissing her words. “The profiler said it is common for the killer want to get involved with one of the investigators, often even giving them tips.”

“Because deep down they want to get caught, right?” Mark asked.

“Exactly,” Steve agreed. “The fact that Lindsey resembles the victims complicates matters. He may actually be confused about what he wants from her, using her as his link to the investigation and hunting her at the same time.”

“Hunting . . . do you have to use that word?” Lindsey asked.

“Candy-coating isn’t going to get us anywhere. I think you’re a target.”

Steve looked at Mark. “You won’t like this, but as I talk this through, I think using Lindsey as bait is an option. She’s already a walking, talking victim. Better to take this bull by the horns.”

“There has to be another way,” Mark said, his face etched with stress.

“Mark, this is a great opportunity to catch this guy before he kills again. God, every time I think about this thing being pushed under the rug and an innocent man being jailed, I get more and more livid.”

Steve eyed Lindsey. “You think it was Greg’s famous hunt for the U.S. District Attorney’s seat?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lindsey said firmly. “To think I almost married the man.”

Steve sighed. “Figures. Anyone who cares about his political career more than catching a killer has a dark side himself.”

* * * * *

Her apartment had smelled like her, all soft and sweet. He’d needed to feel close to her. But it just hadn’t been enough. He needed more. He needed her. He couldn’t wait much longer. It had been far too long, this time they had spent apart.

She was the only perfect one. Her ivory skin, her green eyes. Ah, her eyes. He couldn’t wait to stare into them, and see her respond to him. And respond she would. She would be the only one who saw him for what he was. Who knew he was special. Because she was his everything.

No. He couldn’t wait. The darkness was too intense, too consuming. He had to have her. She would make him better. Right. Even alive.

It was time.

* * * * *

It had been a long, sleepless night.

Lindsey stepped into her office dressed in a black skirt and a sheer floral pink shirt with a matching pink belt. Far more casual than usual, she didn’t have many options considering most of her clothes were dirty, and crammed in her suitcase. Work attire was out of the question since she hadn’t taken any professional clothes with her to Vegas.

Mark had meetings all morning, and Lindsey resigned herself to do phone work rather than her preferred method of hitting the pavement. Midmorning Steve called and confirmed her suspicions. The Hudson DNA had indeed been hair.

Hanging up with Steve, she struggled with a deep feeling of anger. So many dead women. Two innocent men punished for horrendous crimes they didn’t commit. Publicly these men had been annihilated, labeled as killers. Shoving her chair back, she pushed to her feet. She was going to see Greg, damn him and all of his political agendas. In her book, he was a killer himself. People died because of his greed.

Grabbing her purse, she rushed through her door and bumped smack into Maggie. “Oh, sorry,” Lindsey said. “I didn’t see you.”

“I’m fine, dear.” She glanced at Lindsey’s purse.

Lindsey followed her gaze. “I’m going out for a while.”

Maggie’s expression filled with a combination of surprise and concern. “Is that wise?”

Lindsey rolled her eyes. Mark had been wagging his tongue. “I’ll be fine. If Mark asks, tell him I went to see Greg.”

Not giving her time to say another word, Lindsey made fast tracks to the elevator. Once she was in the lobby, she waited impatiently for a taxi. The doorman was struggling. Fearful Mark might come chasing after her, Lindsey took off on foot, with her destination the subway. Once there, she found herself more nervous than she wanted to be. She sat in a corner, searching the other riders’ faces, looking for signs they might be the killer. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

“Damn it,” she mumbled under her breath. Mark was making her crazy. He was so damn nervous, he had her on edge. She’d end up afraid of her own shadow if she wasn’t careful. She’d dealt with plenty of criminals.

The car screeched to a halt, and Lindsey hopped to her feet, eager to escape confinement. She walked through the subway station, refusing to give into the urge to glance over her shoulder. Pausing as she stepped onto the street, she let out a sigh of relief. The sun was bright, blinding in fact, but its warmth signaled wide open space, and her escape from below.

Determination in her steps, she walked towards Greg’s office. She wanted the truth and she intended to get it.

* * * * *

Mark ran a hand through his already-tousled hair as he approached Maggie’s desk and handed her the documents he’d edited. “I’m sorry Maggie, but I made more changes.”

Maggie smiled with her normal good nature. “Not a problem.”

Mark gave her a half smile, stress etched in his features. Being away for several days had loaded him down. But it was well worth it. “Thanks Maggie. You’re a doll.” He started to turn away.

“Mark,” Maggie said, her voice a bit hesitant.

Mark registered the oddness of her voice and turned to face her again. She was wringing her hands together, looking everywhere but in his eyes. “What is it, Maggie?” he encouraged gently. “You know you can tell me anything.”

She nodded. “I know. I just hate to get the middle of things. Lindsey—”

Mark stiffened. “Lindsey what?”

She let out a long breath. “She went out—”

“What?” Mark demanded, suddenly so tense he thought he might explode.

She gulped. “Yes, and she told me to tell you if you asked, but I didn’t think I should wait.”

“Where?”

“To see Greg.”

Mark said a choice curse word under his breath. It took him several seconds to calm down enough to think straight. Damn, he didn’t have time to chase her all over town. But she could be in danger. He cursed again and focused on Maggie, his mind made up. “Cancel my appointments.”