„Is it true that the killer has sent you personal letters, offering the murders as a gift?“

Mayhew stopped abruptly, her mouth drawn in a tight line. „No comment.“ But the abrupt halt had said it all. She darted up the steps and Zoe let her go with one last jab, shouting her final question at Mayhew’s retreating back.

„He signed the notes to Ramey’s victims ‘Your Humble Servant.’ Is that how your letters were signed, ASA Mayhew?“

Kristen stopped and turned, now completely composed. „Perhaps you didn’t comprehend me the first three times. No comment, Miss Richardson.“

„Keep rolling,“ Zoe commanded, and Scott kept rolling until Kristen had disappeared inside the courthouse.

Scott lowered the camera. „How did you know she personally got letters?“

Zoe smiled serenely. „I’m good, Scottie. And don’t you forget it.“

Friday, February 20,

1:30 p.m.

The words on the pages in front of her blurred. She hadn’t read a single word.

It just wasn’t fair.

Kristen bit her lip. How many times had she heard that phrase in the five years since she’d joined the State’s Attorney’s Office? Too many times from too many victims, which most of the time didn’t make it any less true. How many times had she said it herself? Not recently, she had to admit. At least not when it came to her own life.

Which right now well and truly sucked.

But her life had been worse. A couple of times. Seriously worse. Even so, she wasn’t one to complain. She kept her personal life personal. So why today? Damn. She clenched her teeth, dabbing at her lip with the tissue. Whatever possessed her to say that to Reagan? They never, ever forget. Am I freaking insane? She closed her eyes, looked away from her desk as if that would erase the image of Reagan’s shocked eyes from her mind. Of the sound of his voice when he called her name. Like he knew. Or the look later, after the Restons’ house. He’d looked at her with those blue eyes, bright as the center of a gas flame.

He’d called her a nice person.

God. If he only knew. Really, truly knew.

He’d wanted more. The way his gaze had heated, the way the air had grown so charged it chased goosebumps up and down her arms, shivers up and down her back.

She’d been called a number of things, but naive generally wasn’t one of them. Frigid, yes. Ice Queen, yes. Naive, not lately. Reagan had considered kissing her. Right there in front of the Restons’ house.

She huffed an empty, mirthless chuckle. If he only knew. He’d run so fast – He’d thought about kissing her. And for one insane moment, she’d wondered how it would feel having him touch her, wondered if his lips were hard or soft, wondered how it would feel to put her arms around his strong neck and hold on. Tight.

For that one insane moment, she’d considered kissing him back. Perhaps that was what had her so shaken.

„Kristen, you have a visitor.“

She jerked around to find Lois standing in her doorway, looking concerned. Kristen drew a careful breath and glanced down at her Day Timer. Her calendar was free for another fifteen minutes.

„Can you have them come back later this afternoon?“ After the press conference. After Richardson blew the roof off their case in front of every microphone in Chicago. I should’ve told Reagan, she thought. I should’ve prepared him. It was the least she could do for the man who thought she was a nice person. Hah. „I’m kind of busy now.“

„No, it can’t wait.“ Owen stepped around Lois holding a large paper bag. „You didn’t come by for lunch.“

Kristen sat back in her chair in weary relief. She gestured to the stack of folders on her desk. „Too much paperwork.“

Owen frowned his displeasure. „Paperwork is no reason to skip lunch, Kristen. I brought you some beef stew.“ He put the bag on her desk and lifted his bushy brows. „With some cherry pie for dessert.“

She looked up at him with a smile. „You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.“

He looked stern. „What trouble? I dished some stew in a plastic bowl and walked a few blocks. Besides, I had a few other orders here in the building.“ From the bag he pulled a plastic bowl, placing it in front of her. „I saw that Richardson woman on the news last night.“

She sighed. „Yeah, I caught the end of it.“

Owen frowned. „Is it true, what she said? That there’s a vigilante killer out there?“

Kristen pulled the lid from the bowl. It smelled wonderful. „Now, Owen, you know I couldn’t tell you anything whether I knew anything or not.“ She looked up, tried for a grin that fell miserably flat. „Can I still eat the stew?“

He didn’t smile back. „I’ve been watching the news all morning, Kristen. There’s been a lot of talk about vigilantes because of that Richardson woman’s account last night.“

Terrific. „So what’s the word on the street?“

His lips thinned. „That finally somebody’s taking a stand against crime in this town.“

Kristen winced. „So much for all this.“ She gestured at the pile of reports. „I’ll have to remember that when ten o’clock rolls around tonight and I’m still here.“

„Things could get ugly, Kristen.“ Owen zipped up his coat. „Me and Vincent are worried. We just want you to be careful.“

Just wait until Zoe airs her next report, Kristen thought.

Ugly will take on a whole new meaning. „I always am, Owen. Thanks for lunch.“

Friday, February 20,

1:50 p.m.

Abe set a bag on his desk. „You hungry?“

Mia looked up, sniffing deeply. „Depends. What is it?“

„Gyros and burgers.“ He peered into the bag. „And baklava.“

Mia licked her lips. „I take back every bad thing I said about you.“

Abe chuckled. „I doubt that.“

She chose a burger. „Did you get anything from the cabbie?“

„He said he saw a white van with a big flower on the side right after he dropped off Littleton early yesterday morning.“

Mia’s brows jumped. „A florist delivery van? Any name?“

„Said it had ‘flowers’ in the name,“ Abe said dryly, unwrapping his gyro. He took a deep appreciative breath. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was.

„Well, that oughta narrow it down.“

„To 460 places in Greater Chicago. I already checked.“

„Did Jack find anything floral on the stuff from Kristen’s car?“

„Nope, and it bothered him. Jack thought that if the killer used a flower delivery van to transport the bodies or the crates, we would have found something on the clothes at least. Pollen or something.“ He pointed to the faxed lists of Chicago area customers who’d purchased sandblasting equipment. „How’s it coming?“

Irritably, she pushed the papers away. „It would help if I knew what the hell I was looking for. There are hundreds of names here. I’ve got Todd Murphy helping run names for priors, but somehow I don’t think our guy’s been in trouble before.“

Abe was inclined to agree with her. „Well, let’s see if any of these people work in one of the florists in Chicago with ‘flower’ in the name. Give me a couple pages.“

She handed him a handful of paper, wincing when a loud shout came from Spinnelli’s office. „He’s not happy.“

Abe glanced over, saw Spinnelli pacing, holding a telephone to his ear and gesturing wildly. „What, stage fright over his press conference?“ It was scheduled for three o’clock.

„Hell, no. He’s trying to explain to the captain how Richardson got the scoop.“ She tilted her head, frowning when he just looked at her. „Oh, boy. I thought you knew.“

He felt a spear of sharp heat in his neck, a sure sign of stress. „Knew what?“

„Richardson knows that Kristen got letters, too, and that we’ve got five bodies in the morgue and their names. Apparently Richardson ambushed her going into the courthouse. Kristen called Spinnelli right after that. I thought she’d told you, too.“