Paige went into her room and retrieved both cards. They were both in plastic evidence bags, along with the lab reports. She handed them to him. Sam studied the cards for a few minutes, then stuck them in the back pocket of his jeans.

Paige paced the length of the small living room in quick, tight circles. "I should have stayed in New York, baited Thames, and brought him down, but I'm not the same woman, the same agent I was before that day on the mountain. After that day, I was too afraid."

Sam went cold thinking of her baiting Thames. He put his hands on her shoulders, halting her. "No, you should not have done that. You're alive. You did everything right."

"I didn't do anything right. I didn't do anything at all. I ran. As soon as I knew the first postcard had come from Thames, I transferred to Denver. The one-year anniversary of that day in the Adirondacks was a few weeks ago. I received a second postcard. This postcard also was an image of the Adirondacks. It was sent to my home in Denver. I don't know how he managed to track me there, but he did, and I ran again.

"I came here, but he's found me twice before. No matter where I go, he'll find me. I think he has, Sam. I think he killed Janet Lambert. I know his MO is different this time. I know the victimology is different. Even the postcard image is different.

"I don't know why he would choose Lambert, but I think he did. I'm the only one who would know the significance of the postcards, and I think that's why Thames left it. He wants me to know that he knows where I am, that he can get to me at any time." She made a choked sound. "I have no proof of any of this. It sounds crazy even to me."

Her face lost what little color it had left. She stopped moving and curled into herself, making herself as small as she could. Sam pulled her against his chest. She clung to him, trembling in his arms. Thames was breaking her down, keeping her on the edge, never knowing if today was the day he would strike.

Sam didn't know how she'd withstood the pressure, the torment, for this long. He knew seasoned agents who'd cracked under less. And she'd been on her own. But no longer. Every muscle in Sam's body tensed with rage. Thames would have to go through Sam to get to Paige now.

He drew back just enough to look at her, then nudged up her chin. "You're not alone in this." His eyes bore into hers. "Not anymore."

Paige squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, she stared into his eyes. "You can't know how much that means to me."

But Sam did know. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable. Seeing her anguish, Sam's heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. "We will end this with Thames."

"I need to protect Ivy. I never believed Ivy was in danger from Thames. I was sure she posed no interest to him, but Sam, if I'm right about Janet Lambert and that he chose her to send a message to me, I can't be sure he won't go after Ivy."

"We'll put a man on her."

"Once she's at school, she'll be safe," Paige said. "For student safety, all the doors at the school, except for the front entrance, are kept locked so no one can get in. I don't want her to know about this. I don't want to frighten her when all we have so far is speculation."

"We can do that. Our man can follow the vehicle that drives Ivy to the school, watch the school, then follow the vehicle back here again. How's that?"

Paige gazed up at him. "Thank you."

There was a wealth of emotion behind her words, and the vise around Sam's heart squeezed harder. For far too long, she'd had no one but herself to count on. Again, he thought, That's over now. Sam palmed the back of her head. Gently, he sifted his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. He held her gaze and covered her mouth with his. Protectiveness and possessiveness that he'd never felt for any other woman surged through him, and he crushed her against him.

Paige reached up to where Sam held her face and curled her fingers around his wrist, kissing him with the same intensity.

Sounds came from Ivy's room. Paige drew back and gave him a soft smile.

Sam stared down into those gorgeous eyes and couldn't resist brushing his thumb along her full lower lip, now made fuller by his kiss. "I'll make the call. One of our people will begin tailing Ivy right away. I'm going to go home and grab a shower, then I'll be back. Janet Lambert's autopsy is in a couple of hours in Columbia. We need to be there." He touched her cheek softly. "Be back soon."

When Paige came out of her bedroom, showered but still in her white bathrobe, the apartment intercom buzzed. She glanced at her watch. That would be Sam. When he confirmed it was him, she pressed a b.u.t.ton to unlock the building door.

Sam reached her floor quickly. As soon as he stepped off the elevator, Paige met him. "Ivy?" Paige asked anxiously. Ivy hadn't left for school, and Paige wanted to be sure an agent would be watching her when she did.

"It's taken care of."

Paige closed her eyes, overcome for a moment. Sam seemed to notice. He brushed his lips over her hair and just held her.

Paige opened her eyes, then backed into her apartment. "I'm running late. Give me a few minutes to dress. I haven't made coffee, but there's some in the cupboard to the left of the sink if you'd like a cup, and there's breakfast stuff in the fridge."

Sam snagged her hand as she whisked away from him. "I've already eaten. I can make something for you."

Paige stopped moving and went into his arms again. The emotion that welled inside her was far out of proportion to his offer, but it surged and swelled. She was experiencing emotional overload this morning. His arms wrapped around her, and he tucked her head under his chin and held her against him. Paige wound her arms around his waist, holding him as securely.

He cradled her head in his large hands and kissed her as if she were the most precious thing in his life. She'd never felt precious to anyone. Not even to her parents. They hadn't really known what to make of her as she'd made choice after choice that defied their own desires for her. When she'd walked away, out of their lives, they hadn't stopped her.

Sam must have sensed the dark turn her thoughts had taken. He cupped her chin and peered down at her. "Whatever you're thinking, I can see it isn't good."

Now wasn't the time for her revelation. "I'm wondering if you can cook."

Sam raised his brows. "I can make toast."

Feeling ridiculously close to tears, Paige said, "Toast would be great."

Paige left her bedroom for the second time that morning. This time, she was fully dressed and smelled coffee brewing. A toasted English m.u.f.fin sat on a plate with a container of low-fat cream cheese beside it. Sam was speaking on his cell phone. His gaze flicked to her and held.

"I'd appreciate if you could send me that information," Sam said. "Thank you."

She took a step closer to him. "What is it?"

"I've been thinking about what you said about Thames tracking you, if that is indeed what is happening. We need to find out how he's doing that. You mentioned that you think Thames has someone keeping tabs on you. Let's go with that.

"I put in a call to the warden at the penitentiary to have the records of Thames's visitors, phone calls received and made, and any correspondence sent to us. Thames doesn't have any family or close colleagues at the college where he worked. He was a loner. In prison, he wouldn't have had access to any resources he could use to track you. He would need someone outside to do that for him. That person could be his one loose end. We need to find him."

Paige felt hope for the first time. Not only did Sam believe her, but getting the records might actually generate a lead.

Sam spread cream cheese on the m.u.f.fin. "We'll leave for the autopsy as soon as you've eaten."

"I'll take it to go."

Sam studied her. "Have you observed an autopsy before?"

"I was present for the three performed on Thames's victims. I'll be fine in there." Paige glanced at the clock on the microwave. "I'll let Ivy know that I'm leaving."

One hour later, Sam led Paige to an office across from the morgue, which was located in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the building that housed the Columbia Bureau Offices. A woman seated at the polished desk glanced up.

"Been a while, Sam," she said.

"Lindy, how've you been?"

The woman had a round, ruddy-cheeked face that contrasted her dyed emerald-green hair. She peeled her lips back from her teeth and squeezed her eyes in a comical expression. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. Isn't that what you feds say, or maybe that's the spies?"

Sam smiled and turned to Paige. "Lindy, this is Agent Paige Carson from our office. Paige, Dr. Melinda Walden."

Walden came around her desk. "Paige, good to meet you."

"Likewise." Paige returned Walden's robust handshake.

Walden led the way across the hall and through the double doors into the morgue. The autopsy theater was brightly lit and cool, illuminating every corner of the polished surfaces and tiled floor. Like the other morgues Paige had been in, this one smelled of disinfectant and harsh cleaning products. A thin man garbed in a lab coat and wearing surgical gloves stood over the body.

Walden pulled her hair back from her face and secured it with a rubber band at her nape. She made her way to the sinks and began to wash her hands. "Sam, you remember Tom, my a.s.sistant." Without waiting for the men to respond, she went on, "Sam, we've already taken her photos and X-rays." Walden dried her hands, then donned gloves and a lab coat. "Okay, lady and gents, let's get started."

The door thudded open, followed by the click of quick footsteps. The sounds diverted everyone's attention to the man in the three-piece suit and polished shoes who rushed into the room.

Walden gave the newcomer a steely-eyed look. "Mr. Stone, I wasn't sure you were going to make it."

"Sorry I'm late." Stone went to Sam and extended his hand. "Walter Stone, I'm on Senator Glaxton's personal staff. You must be Agent McKade."

"Mr. Stone. Senator Glaxton told us he would be sending a representative to witness the autopsy." Sam shook the man's hand.

Quick introductions were made, then Walden raised one thick eyebrow. "Mr. Stone, you aren't going to puke all over my nice clean floor, are you?"

Stone shook his head. "No, Doctor."

But Paige could see he'd gone a little paler than he'd been when he'd first entered the room.

Walden nodded once briskly. "Once again, then, let's get this show on the road."

She activated the Dictaphone with her foot. She recited the date, time of day, and the victim's name, and identified those in attendance.

Tom inserted a film in the X-ray viewer on the wall and flicked on the light switch. Walden studied the film without blinking and began recording her findings, pausing only to ask Tom to change X-rays.

She cataloged the condition of the body, meticulously charting tissue samples, making sure to observe the vital chain of custody. Paige was reminded that the same carefulness had been missing in the Thames investigation.

After some time pa.s.sed, Sam asked, "Cause of death, Lindy?"

Walden stopped the Dictaphone and went to the X-ray viewer. She touched the screen with her gloved hand. "See here? These breaks show injury to the spinal cord occurred at the C3 to C5 vertebrae. Cervical breaks above the fifth vertebra cut off air. This woman died of asphyxiation resulting from a broken neck."

Sam asked, "Time of death?"

"I'd say between seven and ten o'clock in the evening. I looked at this gal before we cleaned her. She looked like she was ready for a night on the town. Your killer didn't so much as smear her lipstick."

Walden went to the tray containing the instruments she'd been using-probes, slides, measuring tools-and selected one. She gently lifted Lambert's hand and sc.r.a.ped beneath one polished fingernail. Walden dragged the tip of the instrument across a slide, then presented the slide for Sam's inspection.

"Nothing under the nails." Walden said. She clucked her tongue. "Can't say I'm surprised, given the condition of the body." She gave Sam a level look. "I don't understand this killer. How the h.e.l.l are you supposed to catch him if you can't understand him?"

After the autopsy, Sam pulled into a restaurant outside Columbia. It was time for lunch, but once inside, Paige's stomach balked at anything heavy. They settled into one of the deep hunter-green booths, and despite the hot day, Paige ordered plain tomato soup. Sam didn't comment on her choice and ordered his own meal.

While they waited for the food to arrive, Paige said, "Bob at the crime scene called it down to the time of death. It appears Lambert's killer came up behind her, catching her unaware, then snapped her neck."

"He would need to have a certain amount of strength to do that," Sam said, "and he'd have to be able to keep her subdued while he did it. He could have hidden in the trees, lying in wait. But for her specifically, or for anyone? Was she a random pick? Even if Thames did kill her to make some kind of statement to you, of all of the women in Kirk, why her? We keep coming back to that."

Paige licked her now dry lips. "He had to have held her close to his body, but forensics didn't find so much as a stray hair or fiber. No trace evidence on the body at all. No skin, hair, or fibers under her nails, though if he surprised her and got the job done quickly, she likely didn't know what was happening."

Sam gave her a look. "He could be the luckiest son of a b.i.t.c.h we've ever run across, or else-"

Paige voiced her fear. "He's done this before."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. We'll look for similar crimes where victims' necks were broken. We'll cover all angles until we either confirm or eliminate Thames."

Thames had left no trace evidence on his confirmed victims, either. In her lap, Paige clasped her hands tightly together.

"Harry called," Sam added. "Our check on Holt came back clean." Sam drummed his knuckles on the tabletop. "We're missing something." He paused. "Thames or some other unsub didn't hide the body."

"Thames never killed openly like this," Paige said.

"I don't buy that the unsub thought he didn't have time to hide the body. That he just dropped her and made his getaway. The scene looked too staged. The actions seem too calculated. Lambert's killer must have taken into consideration that he might be seen." Sam shook his head. "He made no attempt to muddy the waters by taking her cash or jewelry, to make this look like a mugging. He didn't attempt to make her death look like anything more than it was: a murder. And he left her where she would be found quickly. I'd say he wanted us to find the body."

They'd had this theory since they'd viewed the crime scene. The waitress arrived with their meals. Sam eyed the food on his plate, but Paige didn't think he really saw it. His thoughts were elsewhere.

After a moment, he said quietly, "Once we find out why he wanted the body found, we'll have him."

They finished their meal in silence, lost in thought. On the drive back, Paige called Ivy, who was at lunch in the school cafeteria. Riley, whom Sam had a.s.signed to her, would keep watch until Paige got home. Rather than returning to the office where the activists continued to protest, Sam drove them to his place.

Paige preceded him into the living room. The temperature inside the house should have been comfortably cool, but Paige was cold on the inside and shivered.

Sam's brows lowered, and he raised the temperature inside the house. His tone soft, he said, "I want you to tell me again about Thames."

Another chill went through her as she went over it all again. After she'd completed the retelling, she closed her eyes, willing back the horror that was now all too close to the surface. She felt Sam's hand on her face and opened her eyes.

Sam had listened intently, his hard body growing more rigid with each word she spoke. Fury sparked in his eyes. She wasn't used to anyone feeling anger on her behalf. She didn't know how to handle it.

With the pad of his thumb, he gently caressed her cheek. "I'm sorry I asked you to relive that. If it hadn't been necessary, I wouldn't have. I would do anything to spare you more hurt."

She didn't think anyone could possibly know what it did to her to go over it all again, but the deep emotion in Sam's voice, the fury on her behalf, and his acceptance that she was telling the truth had tears burning her throat.

He saw her reaction and brought her close. "I'm sorry."

Her instinct was to back away. She'd shown Sam more of herself than she had anyone else. Showing so much of herself left her feeling vulnerable.

But when she tried to retreat from him, Sam held on. He went on holding her. The last of her defenses crumbled. Panic made her blurt her next words. "I can't be this way with you."

Sam looked down at her, his eyes burning into hers. "Don't be any way, just be Paige."

No one, not even her family, had ever wanted the real Paige. She pressed her face to his chest and held tight to his words, held tight to him.

"Just be Paige," he murmured against her ear.

He slid his lips from her ear, kissed her hair, her eyes, her cheeks. Then his mouth moved over hers in a tender caress, a soft glancing of his lips over hers. It was an expression of caring unlike any Paige had ever known before. She made a soft mewling sound. It was a sound of emotional need drawn from her very depths.

His lips brushed hers again gently, and this time she kissed him back. She couldn't hold herself from him any longer.

Their mouths fused in a kiss that was hot, wet, hungry. Sam's arms banded around her. She could feel him straining for her. She surged toward him, and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressed against his chest.

"Paige, beautiful Paige," Sam murmured. "I want you. G.o.d, I want you."

She could feel the proof of his raging desire pressing against her belly. Her own body was pulsing for him, a need that stole her breath. Sam was her boss. She didn't need this complication. But she wanted him. Wanted to reach out and take what he could give her. See what they could give each other, even for a little while. They were about to step over a line, one Paige would never have believed she would cross. But the line blurred when it came to Sam. "I want you, too."

Her breathless admission snapped whatever restraint Sam had been exercising. He took her lips and now her tongue as well, devouring her mouth in a heated, carnal kiss. He slid his hands down her spine and cupped her bottom, lifting her. She wrapped her legs around him. The dress she wore beneath a matching jacket hiked up her thighs as Sam walked them up the stairs to the loft. Gently, he deposited her on his bed.