He grinned. „Hell, no. They want you to join the team.“

She grinned back, then her expression went sly. „So… what about Miss Mayhew?“

Abe went for obtuse even though he knew exactly what she meant. „She got there too late to try the casserole. Mia had eaten everything but the vegetables.“

His mother shook her head. „Not what I meant. She’s pretty. Smart, too.“

He should have known her sharp eyes had missed none of his and Kristen’s exchange. „Yes, she is, Mom.“

„You didn’t like it when she ignored you.“

She knew him so well. „No, I didn’t.“

Her face settled to serene. „Do you want me to fix you a snack?“

He pulled her to her feet. „No, I want you to go to bed.“

She grimaced. „Your father snores.“

„I do not.“ Kyle Reagan appeared, scratching his broadening belly.

„He does, too!“ The scornful shout came from behind Rachel’s closed bedroom door.

„What’re you doing awake this time of night, young lady?“ his father demanded.

Rachel stuck her head out the door and Abe blinked at the sight of his baby sister in nothing but an oversized T-shirt. She had grown up. My God. She’s only thirteen and she looks seventeen. He wondered if his father had cleaned his gun recently. She’d done something different with her dark hair and there were traces of smudged mascara around her blue eyes, which were rolling in a display of great patience. „Like I could sleep with all this noise,“ she said. „Not.“ She eyed Abe carefully. „Hiya, Abe. Good to have you back.“

She wanted something. That much hadn’t changed in the last year. „Hi, Rach.“

„So can you get me an interview or not?“

Abe blinked again. „With who?“

„Whom,“ Rachel corrected archly, and it was Abe’s turn to roll his eyes.

„Whatever. With whom?“

„With Kristen Mayhew. Mom says the two of you are tight“

Abe winced at the idea. „You want to interview Kristen Mayhew, like with a camera?“

„No, not like with a camera. Like with a pencil. We have to do a project on the career we want and interview somebody who’s doing it. I want to be a lawyer. Miss Mayhew is a lawyer.“

„Damn lawyers,“ Kyle grumbled. „Cops arrest ‘em, lawyers in suits let ‘em go.“

Rachel shook her head. „Not this lawyer, Daddy. She has the highest conviction rate in her office.“ She lifted eyebrows that Abe sworn hadn’t been that severely tweezed last time he’d been home. „So? Can you get me an interview or not?“

I can’t even get her to call me by my first name, Abe thought. „I don’t know,“ he answered honestly. „I can ask.“

„She spoke last year at the University of Chicago Law Commencement,“ Rachel said and Kyle disappeared into the kitchen, still grumbling about lawyers.

Abe had trouble picturing that. „She did?“

Rachel nodded vigorously, her dangling earrings dancing wildly. „I did an Internet search and found her speech in one of the university’s newsletters. She said that mentoring young people was one of the greatest things the graduating class could do to keep the pipeline full of diverse talent.“

„She did?“

Rachel rolled her eyes again and Abe caught his mother smothering a grin. „What, is there an echo in here?“ Rachel asked, sounding just like their father. „Yes, she did. So I’ll bet she’d just love to help a young person like me.“ Her face softened into a winsome smile that he’d never been able to deny. „Please, Abe, pretty please?“

Abe exhaled helplessly. „I’ll ask her, Rach. But don’t be disappointed if she says no. She’s a busy lady.“

Rachel tilted her head forward conspiratorially. „I bet you could invite her over for Sunday dinner. Mom’s making a great big ham. Everybody’s got to eat.“

„No. No. No.“ Abe scowled, but not at the thought of looking at Kristen’s face across his mother’s table. That would be no hardship at all. His scowl was for the withering look of disdain she’d give him when she rejected his invitation. „Did I say no?“

Rachel’s face fell. „Well, ask her about the interview. I’d get an A for sure.“

„I’ll ask.“

„I think it’s way past time you were in bed, sweetie,“ Becca said and Rachel frowned, but obeyed, first lifting on her tiptoes to kiss Abe’s cheek.

„I’m glad you came,“ she whispered. „Even if you can’t get me an interview.“

He kissed her forehead. She was a good kid, all in all. „Me too, squirt. Now go to bed. You’re going to fall asleep in school tomorrow.“

His mother slipped her arm around his waist as Rachel’s door closed. „She was so excited to hear you knew Miss Mayhew. I told her to wait to ask you, but you know how she is. The bed in your old room is made up, Abe. If you want to sleep here, I’ll make you waffles for breakfast From scratch, not those disgusting frozen things.“

„You never make me waffles from scratch,“ Kyle complained from the kitchen.

„You don’t need waffles from scratch,“ his mother shot back. „You’re on a diet.“

Abe had to grin at his father’s muffled muttering. „No, Mom, I need to be in the office early tomorrow. I just wanted to see you tonight.“

With a sigh she walked him to the door. „You’re still coming over on Sunday?“

„Unless something really important comes up on this case, I’ll be here.“

Friday, February 20,

1:00 a.m.

„Why?“

It was an agonized cry, and no less than the bastard deserved. He spared a cool glance. „Renee Dexter.“

Skinner twisted his head to follow him as he gathered his tools, eyes widening in terror. „Who?“

He stopped. Turned his full attention on Skinner’s pathetic form, still strapped down. His bleeding had slowed, his Armani suit was soaked. It would be the most expensive clothing he’d packed into a crate up until now. Skinner hovered on the brink of consciousness, holding on with an effort. „You truly don’t remember her, do you?“

„No. Dammit. Where… am I?“ Skinner gasped. „Who are you?“

He turned away, ignoring Skinner’s line of questioning. „Renee Dexter was a college student, driving home from her part-time job at the campus library.“ He opened a drawer, studied its contents. „She had car trouble, and no cell phone to call for help.“ He made his choice and held it up for Skinner to see before placing it on the table next to him, gratified when Skinner’s eyes went glassy with fear. „Do you remember her yet?“

„Oh, God,“ Skinner moaned, twisting, trying to escape. „You’re insane. Insane.“

He considered it. „Perhaps. God will be the judge of that, I suppose.“ He rolled a cart holding a vise across the room, positioning it at Skinner’s head. Adjusted the grips of the vise on either side of Skinner’s skull and twisted the knobs. Skinner moaned.

„Renee Dexter was terrified.“ His voice hardened. „Nineteen years old and terrified. A car stopped and two clean-cut young men got out and she drew an easier breath. She’d been afraid of thugs, of criminals, but fate had been kind and sent two nice young men her way.“ He twisted the knobs once more and Skinner began to sob. „Unfortunately, they were not nice young men, Mr. Skinner. When the police found Renee Dexter the next morning, she was weaving through traffic on foot, her clothes torn. They thought she was drunk, but she wasn’t. Is your memory improving now, Mr. Skinner?“

„Why?“ Skinner sobbed. „Why are you doing this to me?“

His lips twisted grimly. „Ironic. Renee said the very same thing to the two young men as they held her down all night, raping her by turns. She said they laughed and said ‘Because we can.’ The police were able to catch the two men using descriptions Renee gave them from her hospital bed and the State’s Attorney’s Office filed charges.“ He lifted his tool of choice, twisting it in the overhead light, watching it shine. „That’s where you came in, Mr. Skinner.“ He chuckled dryly as Skinner’s eyes flickered in recognition. „I see you remember now.“