She doubled over slightly as she moved through the intersection. She was in pain. Her cut must have been deeper than he thought.

He could do this. He could catch her, pierce her pale skin with his blade, and it would be over. He'd be home in time for- His breath suddenly left him. He suddenly felt ... cold. What in the h.e.l.l?

He looked down at his hand and saw that it was covered in blood. His blood, pouring from a wound just below his wrist. His knife had obviously sliced him after the b.i.t.c.h swung her knapsack into it.

No big deal. Never mind, he had a job to finish. Push through the pain. Worry about his wound later.

But she was putting even more distance between them. She'd get no help from the closed businesses, but she was nearing a more-heavily-trafficked area just a block or so ahead.

He couldn't let her get there.

He pushed himself harder, drawing on reserves that had always been there when he needed them. He felt himself moving faster, even if he didn't quite feel connected to the pavement. His legs tingled, and his stomach burned. His vision fogged. But she was feeling the same thing, he realized. It was only a matter of outlasting her. He could do this.

Keep her in your sights.

She staggered into the next intersection. She glanced back. That was always his cue to put on an extra burst of speed. But before his legs could oblige him, a pickup truck roared into the intersection.

Lesley Dunn froze in horror.

The truck struck her, and she flew over the hood and collapsed onto the street.

Rusin ducked into the shadows and watched as the truck stopped. Two men jumped out and ran to examine her.

She was alive and moving.

s.h.i.t. I'll have to eliminate all three of them.

Another car stopped. Another. Then another.

Dammit. Suddenly everyone's a Good Samaritan.

He hated the thought that there was no choice but to retreat. There was no other option.

He would have to finish Lesley Dunn off later.

Rancho Bernardo

11:30 P.M.

"Another blank," Lynch said as he gazed at the plantings beside the man-made lake that formed a part of the children's playground. "I doubt if Jeff was investigating this playground."

"So do I, but you can never tell," Kendra said. She put a question mark beside the location in her notebook. They had asked questions at the Park and Recreation Department earlier in the afternoon and been given a list of the areas where the Pineland Hibiscus had been planted in the city. They couldn't help them with any business parks or hotels, but they had decided to take what they could get. "The next planting area is just outside the city."

"If we can see it," Lynch said dryly. "It's dark, and even if a security guard doesn't go after us, there's a chance that we'll miss it anyway. Don't you ever give up?"

"No," she said absently. "Why should I? That's not the way to get anything done. You have to eliminate-"

Lynch's phone rang, and he quickly accessed the call. "Lynch." He listened for a moment before he said, "We're in Rancho Bernardo. We'll be there as quick as we can." He backed the car out of the parking spot. "Sienna. They've found another victim."

FORTY MINUTES LATER, THEY were walking through the sliding emergency doors of Scripps Mercy Hospital. A rush of cool air hit Kendra's face, and her senses were immediately a.s.saulted by two crying babies, a large man screaming at the admissions clerk, and an overabundance of the hospital deodorizing agent Smelleze.

Sienna Deever, talking on her cell phone, waved to them from the other side of the lobby. Sienna had called her and Lynch less than thirty minutes before but had given them little in the way of details. She finished her call before they reached her.

"So we have another stabbing victim?" Lynch asked.

"Yes. Her name is Lesley Dunn, age thirty-two. She was attacked on Garnet Street just before nine P.M."

Kendra could hear the excitement in Sienna's voice, a different tone than she had heard before. "She fits the profile of the others?"

Sienna nodded. "I came here with my kit just after they brought her in. She has the same mutagen in her system as all the rest. But there's one major difference this time."

Kendra's eyes widened as she murmured, "She's still alive?"

"Alive, but unconscious. She was. .h.i.t by a car at the scene."

"Hit by our killer?" Lynch asked.

"No. Hit by someone else as she was running away from him."

"I'd say she's had a bad night," Lynch said.

"Her injuries from the car accident are relatively minor. A severely bruised hip and a dislocated shoulder. She has a knife wound on her torso, but the killer wasn't able to finish the job this time." Sienna consulted a well-worn leather-bound pocket notebook. "The details are still coming together, but it looks as if the victim is the only person actually to see the attacker. She wasn't entirely coherent, but she spoke to the driver, his pa.s.senger, and at least one other person before she lost consciousness."

"Did she give a physical description?" Lynch asked.

"Afraid not. Not according to the uniformed officer who took their statements."

"Too bad."

Kendra tried to hear herself think over the sound of the screaming babies. "Why is she unconscious? Is she in shock?"

Sienna's face suddenly became grim. "I don't think so."

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure. The doctors aren't sure. They're running tests now. It may have something to do with the chemical in her system."

Kendra nodded. "But whatever it is, it's been there for months, right? Like with the others?"

"Most likely. We'll need to do other tests to be sure."

"Is it life-threatening?"

"Again, there's no way to tell. Sorry. We're in uncharted territory here."

The triage doors swung open, and Kendra was surprised to see Agent Griffin step through them and walk into the lobby.

Lynch nodded toward him. "Keeping late hours, Griffin."

"Aren't we all?"

While the rest of them were dressed casually, Kendra noticed that Griffin had taken care to put on a nicely pressed suit, crisp white shirt, and an understated silk tie. His att.i.tude appeared businesslike and confident. She was frequently annoyed by him, but he did know how to exude authority even after midnight in the emergency room of a big-city hospital.

"Any change?" Sienna asked.

"None," Griffin said. "But I did impress on the staff the importance of our speaking to her." He paused. "At any cost."

"She's unconscious," Kendra said. "What good would that do?"

Griffin shrugged. "She's our only witness to a ma.s.s murderer. There's a chance she could die without giving us any hint of identifying him. I merely suggested that if there's any way they can stimulate her..."

"Stimulate." Kendra glared at him. "My G.o.d, that's low even for you, Griffin."

Griffin leaned toward her and lowered his voice. "If it was up to her, do you think she would really want to die without helping us bring this son of a b.i.t.c.h down? What if it was you in there?"

"We don't have the right to make that decision for her. She's fighting for her life. Good G.o.d, she's been stabbed and hit by a car. We have no idea what's infecting her inside, and now you're suggesting they pump her full of stimulants to wake her up to help you with your d.a.m.n investigation?" Kendra turned toward Lynch and Sienna. "I don't believe this."

They weren't returning her glance.

Kendra gazed at them, stunned. "Wait a minute. Don't tell me you agree with him?"

Lynch put his hand on her arm. "She saw the killer, Kendra. This might be your only shot at finding Jeff. Who knows if we'll get another chance like this?"

Kendra felt sick. She wanted to lash out at the three of them. She took a deep breath, then spoke in a low, even tone. "That woman deserves every chance that they can give her, without our mucking things up and maybe tipping the scales against her. I feel sorry for all of you if you really think your only hope of cracking this case is to risk her life. Screw the case." She added with sudden fierceness, "And if any of you try to do it, I'll stand over her and blow you away if you so much as touch her."

Griffin raised his hands in surrender. "Before you get too indignant, the doctors in there agree with you. They practically threw me out."

"Good."

"I want a copy of the police report," Lynch said.

"You'll get it as soon as we do. Early tomorrow."

"And around-the-clock protection for Lesley Dunn," Kendra said. "In case the killer comes back to finish the job."

"Already done. San Diego P.D. will be on her twenty-four/seven."

"Then there's no use in our sticking around, is there?" Kendra turned and strode out of the hospital.

Lynch caught up with her as she reached the parking lot.

"Kendra."

"No, Lynch." She got into the pa.s.senger seat and gazed straight ahead. "I don't want to talk right now."

He slipped into the driver's seat and sat there in silence for a long moment. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not backing you up in there."

"It has nothing to do with backing me up. It's about doing what's right. For what it's worth, Jeff probably would have been on your side. But I am surprised at Sienna. She's a doctor."

"Not anymore. Maybe the temperament of an FBI agent is more suited to her."

"Maybe, but I could tell she felt rotten about it. I hope her att.i.tude was due to the fact that she just didn't want to contradict her boss. Though that isn't really a valid excuse."

"It's possible. I know from personal experience that Griffin doesn't like to be challenged."

"So what? I've had the exact same experience, but it never made any difference to me. I don't claim I'm perfect myself. But when you see wrong, you have to challenge it. Oh, I can ignore mistakes occasionally." She made a face. "Well, not often. But when it comes to basic human decency, how could I live with myself if I let that kind of bulls.h.i.t go on?"

He studied her expression for a moment before he said softly, "You couldn't. Not you, Kendra Michaels."

She met his gaze. "And just when did you get to the point where you could do it?"

"A long time ago," he said wearily. "And the sad thing is that I don't even remember when it happened."

She was silent a moment, studying him. "Yes, you do. You just don't want to tell me. Why? Would it make you feel vulnerable? I imagine that would be a worst-case scenario for you."

"You maintain the habit of stomping in where angels fear to tread, don't you?"

"You don't have to answer me. I'm just curious. It's not as if I'm going to blackmail you." She repeated, "When?"

"A long time ago."

"How long?"

"Since I was a little kid, maybe." He shrugged. "My father was a beat cop in Milwaukee. He was one of the good guys, like your Jeff Stedler. He always tried to do the right thing. The problem is that n.o.body else plays by those rules. Not the bad guys, certainly not the bad cops. He spent his entire career beating his head against the wall. He had some wins, but trust me, they were few and far between."

"Still, he sounds like a good man," she said quietly.

"He was."

"What happened to him?"

"Nothing dramatic. He put in his time, retired, and just kind of faded away. All those years, all the frustration, just sapped the life out of him. No one is going to do that to me. I knew there had to be a better way, and there is. If you're smart about it and give people the results they need, they usually don't care how you accomplish what you do."

"Griffin obviously cared."