The question was so incongruous with reality that Taylor almost laughed aloud. "The weather was gorgeous," she answered truthfully. "But I spent most of the time indoors, unwinding."

"Good. You needed it."

Dennis came forward, then pumped her hand warmly. "It's really good to have you back."

"Yeah, and not only because we missed you," Kevin called out. "Dennis has some hot news of his own he's been dying to share."

Taylor turned to Dennis, her brows knitting quizzically. "That sounds important."

"It is," Kevin a.s.sured her.

An unwelcome prospect dawned on Taylor, and she gave Dennis a pleading look. "Please don't tell me you're leaving, that you found some high-paying job at another station."

"Would I be smiling if that was the case?" Kevin asked with a grunt. "I'm already too overworked as it is."

"That's true," Taylor conceded. "Okay, so don't keep me in suspense. What's your news?"

Her engineer grinned shyly. "Ally and I got married the other day."

"Married?" Taylor's eyes widened. "Oh, Dennis, that's wonderful. Congratulations." She gave him an enthusiastic hug. "The other day?" she repeated as that part sank in. "Then what are you doing at work? You're a newly wed."

"I gave Dennis the rest of the week off," Jack a.s.sured her. "He hasn't been in since Wednesday. But he wanted to be here for your welcome back party. So he popped in an hour ago, and then he's popping out till Monday."

Taylor felt a rush of grat.i.tude. "Thank you. That means a lot to me. Please tell Ally I'm sorry I pulled you away from her, even for a couple of hours."

"Coming in tonight wasn't exactly a hardship," Dennis replied. "Blackout cake's my favorite. And Jack said I could bring a piece home for Ally."

"Of course." Taylor's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Although you're not getting off the hook that easily. Because we want to meet Ally."

Dennis grinned back, this time more easily. He looked happy, even giddy, like a newlywed should be.

"Thank you, everyone," Taylor called after the staff as Jack shooed them back to work. "This was an amazing surprise."

Jack achieved his objective, pausing in the doorway when only Kevin, Dennis, and Laura remained in the studio with Taylor. "You're sure you're up for this?"

"Positive," she a.s.sured him.

"Because if you're not ready, you can put this off."

"I realize that. But I am ready. And I don't want to put it off."

"Is your PI outside the building?"

"Right there, with his beeper and cell phone on."

A tight nod. "Well, stay only as long as you're up to it. Don't overdo." He looked like he wanted to say more, then changed his mind. "Have a good show. And welcome back."

Taylor shot Kevin a questioning look as the door shut behind Jack. "What was that all about?"

No reply.

"Yoo-hoo." She glanced from one of them to the other. "I asked a question."

Dennis gave in first. "Jack was kind of freaked out by your PI," he offered hesitantly.

"Freaked out?" Taylor frowned. Mitch was one of the most decent, straightforward guys she'd ever met--certainly not the type to intimidate people. "Why? Was he rude to him?"

"No, nothing like that," Kevin supplied, shaking his head. "But you know how protective Jack is of WVNY. When word spread that your PI was here and that some of us were being questioned, a couple of staff members got nervous. Mitch explained--loud and clear--that no one here was in danger or was a suspect, that he was only trying to determine if anyone might have, inadvertently, mentioned your whereabouts."

Taylor's spirits sagged again. "Maybe I should take a sabbatical."

Dennis's black brows shot up. "You just got back."

"I know. But I don't want to cause any trouble, not for you guys, and not for Jack. You've been my lifeline through all this."

"Jack will settle down," Kevin said. "Give him time."

Time.

The word tasted bitter on Taylor's tongue. Everything was moving in slow motion. Yet, she had the eerie sensation the sand in her hourgla.s.s was running out.

11:30 P.M.

She was back.

She'd gone to the radio station. She'd just left.

He watched her walk toward the waiting car.

d.a.m.n, she was s.e.xy. He'd forgotten how hot he got just looking at her. The anger that had been building inside him just made him hotter. Rage and s.e.x. It didn't get any better than that. Not for what he had in mind.

He was tempted to follow her. But he couldn't. It wasn't time yet.

CHAPTER 32.

11:50 P.M.

EAST SIXTY-EIGHTH STREET.

Reed was scribbling down notes at the kitchen counter when Mitch and Taylor arrived.

He strode over and pulled open the door, feeling the now-familiar sense of relief that swept through him when Taylor showed up at his place safe and sound. "Hey. How'd it feel to be back?"

"Mixed reviews. Good and bad. And a little like the main attraction at a freak show. But, hey, at least they threw me a party." Taylor shrugged off her coat and turned to Mitch. "Thanks, as always."

"You're welcome, as always," he replied. "Get some rest. I'm going home to do some catch-up reading on Gordon Mallory. Jake's been doing an extensive search: old articles, announcements, that kind of stuff. Maybe it'll give us a hint about where Mallory's laying low--if he's alive."

"I'm reading similar literature, only mine's about a boat explosion and a physical a.s.sault," Reed said wearily.

"You got your hands on the files?" Taylor jumped on that.

"Yup." Reed jerked his thumb in the direction of the kitchen. "Both are right in there. Hadman was very cooperative, especially after Mitch spoke with him. He and Olin insisted on knowing why we wanted the files, so we had to fill them in. No hardship there. They'll keep it quiet. They think we're grasping at straws. But they're good detectives."

"Sure are," Mitch concurred. "Anyway, happy reading. We'll compare notes tomorrow, see whose stuff was more interesting." He shot a wave in their direction." 'Night."

Reed closed and locked the door behind him, then turned to Taylor. "I tuned in to part of your show tonight. You sound as cool and composed--"

"--as you do when you're in court," Taylor finished for him. "That's my job. My callers depend on me. I've got to keep it together when I'm on the air. That doesn't mean--" She broke off, sinking down on the sofa and pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes. "Reed, I'm sorry. I'm tired and strung out.

I didn't mean to snap at you."

"No apology necessary." He sat down beside her, ma.s.saging the tension from her shoulders.

"How did the arraignment at supreme court go?"

A shrug. "As expected. The judge didn't revoke bail. That's all Jonathan was afraid of. I, on the other hand, was half hoping he would."

Taylor twisted around and shot Reed a startled look. "Why?"

"Purely selfish reasons. If Jonathan's locked up, Gordon can't masquerade as him--not without getting caught."

"Oh." She blew out a tired breath. "I see your point. But something tells me Gordon's too smart to get caught. If Jonathan were locked up, Gordon would somehow find out about it, and crawl back into the sewer like the rat that he is." A humorless laugh. "And, like that same cunning rat, he'd emerge only when he knew it was safe."

"He's never going to be safe," Reed returned in a hard, determined tone. "Not with me gunning for him."

Taylor gave him a weak, grateful smile. "Have you read through the police reports yet? Anything new?"

"Nothing that jumped out at me. Except for the fact that none of the partial human remains found at the scene of the boat explosion were Gordon's. Just his monogrammed life preserver."

"He could have tossed that overboard to make it look convincing."

"Exactly. On the other hand, it could have been propelled by the force of the explosion, and his whole body could have been blown to bits. So let's just say that the lack of physical remains raises a red flag--for us. For the police and the prosecution--well, under the circ.u.mstances, our red flag is weak.

And it's certainly not enough to build a credible case that Gordon's alive."

"He's out there, Reed. I know it. I don't need proof. He's circling me like a hawk. Who knows when he'll swoop down? I don't have the luxury of time that you do. Any day, any minute, he could--"

Taylor broke off, hopeless and frustrated, and terribly ashamed of what she was implying. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "That was completely uncalled for."

Reed pressed her head against his chest. "Taylor, listen to me. I know you feel like you're coming apart at the seams. And I know you're scared. But we both knew that getting our hands on Gordon wasn't going to be a cakewalk. He's smart. He's meticulous. And his intentions are not to be caught. That's not the way it's going to go down. We will catch him. I promise you that. In the meantime, never doubt my priorities. You and I have the exact same timetable. Jonathan is my client. You're ..." He swallowed.

"I love you. Your life and your safety are the most important things to me. I'm working on this Gordon angle round-the-clock. I've got Mitch doing the same. That's for you, not Jonathan."

"I know." She leaned into him. "I just want this whole thing to be over."

"Amen."

"Anything new on the DNA front?" Taylor asked. "That was pretty fascinating stuff you showed me last night."

"I did some more reading on the DNA profiles of identical twins," Reed answered reluctantly. "Without getting into too much scientific detail, there are two genetic terms involved here: phenotype and genotype. Genotype is the makeup of our genes--in other words, our DNA. Phenotype is the external stuff--our physical characteristics, which result from the interaction of our genes with the developmental environment inside the uterus. The last part's the relevant part. Since each fetus interacts differently with its environment, identical twins have identical genotypes but different phenotypes."

"What physical traits does that affect?"

"The operative ones in a criminal case are fingerprints and teeth marks. Both those characteristics differ slightly in identical twins. Unfortunately, the killer was smart enough not to leave any fingerprints. But Adrienne did have teeth marks on her left breast. I read a precedent case where the defense attorney elicited the expert testimony of a dentist who displayed dental casts, Styrofoam impressions, and CAT scans of the casts of the defendant's teeth, which the court overlaid on the actual wounds to compare them. They were different. If necessary, I can try that tactic in court. It's not foolproof, but it might create reasonable doubt."

He ma.s.saged his temples. "What makes me crazy is that it's sure as h.e.l.l not enough to get Hadman and Olin's cooperation on your stalker case."

"Nothing's going to do that, short of Gordon showing himself," Taylor said quietly. A long pause as she contemplated her own words. "Reed, maybe we should use that fact to our advantage."

"Meaning?"

"Let's get Gordon to show himself."

"And how do you propose we do that?"

Reed wasn't going to like this. Taylor herself didn't like it. But it might be their quickest solution.

Maybe even their only solution.

"My new lease starts tomorrow," she explained. "I'm sure Gordon knows that. I'm sure he also knows where I'm moving. He seems to know everything about me. So why don't I oblige him and move? Without anyone's a.s.sistance but the moving company. Once they're gone, it'll just be me. That should give Gordon a clean shot."

"Forget it." Reed's entire body had gone rigid. "You're talking about making yourself a target."

"If it'll ferret Gordon out, I'm willing to risk it."

"Well, I'm not. The idea's crazy. You'd be leaving yourself wide open to a psychopath. The subject's closed. We'll find Gordon through less radical means."

"Whatever those are." She blew out her breath. "It just occurred to me that sometime between yesterday and today we both stopped saying 'if when we refer to Gordon as my stalker. We're now both sure, hard evidence or not."

"Yeah," Reed concurred. "We are."

MARCH 1.

1:15 A.M.

D-day.

Her new lease had started seventy-five minutes ago.

He eyed the apartment that would soon be hers, wondering when she'd be moving in. Her old place was in chaos, and had been for days, as moving preparations were under way.

The boxes would be sent over on schedule. Her old place would be vacated. But as for when she joined them, that was still iffy.

She was staying with Reed Weston. She had been since she returned from Florida.

A few weeks ago, that would have been enough to make him wild with rage. Picturing her with another guy. Knowing she was in his bed. He'd been furious enough when he realized she was turning off her cell phone every night so he couldn't contact her. Stupid b.i.t.c.h. Didn't she know that if he wanted to reach her, he could?

Anyway, none of it mattered now. His plan had entered its final stage.