But he was the natural leader for CASKU just the same. He was theresident expert the rest of the team would turn to. He was the controlfreak who believed no job could be handled as effectively without himbeing in charge of it. No, Quinn wouldn't relinquish his field dutiesfor the unit chiefs post. Instead, he would essentially do both jobs.The perfect answer for the man obsessed with his work and with his needto save humanity from its darker side.

"What kind of caseload are you carrying?" Kate asked.

He shrugged it off. "The usual."

Which was more than anyone else in the unit. More than any one personcould humanly deal with, unless he had no other life. There had beentimes she had labeled his obsession ambition, and other times she hadlooked past the obvious and caught a glimpse of him standing at the edgeof a deep, dark internal abyss. Dangerous thinking, because her instinctive response was to want to pull him back from that edge. Hislife was his own. She didn't even want him here.

"I have to get back to Angie," she said. "She won't be happy I abandonedher. I don't know why I care so much," she grumbled.

"You always liked a challenge," he said, offering her a hint of a smile.

"I ought to have my head examined."

"Can't help there, but how about dinner?"

Kate almost laughed, out of incredulity rather than humor, Just likethat--how about dinner? Two minutes ago they'd been sniping at eachother.

Five years and a load of emotional baggage between them, and .. . andwhat? He's over it and I'm not?

"I don't think so. Thanks anyway."

"We'll talk about the case," he said, back pedaling. "I've got someideas I'd like to bounce off you."

"That's not my job. I'm not with the BSU anymore," she said, movingtoward the door into victim/witness services. The need to escape was sostrong, it was embarra.s.sing. "The BCA has an agent who's taken thebehavioral a.n.a.lysis course and-" -is currently in Quantico for eightweeks at the National Academy."

"You can bring in another agent if you want. You've got all of CASKU tocall on for backup, to say nothing of every expert and pioneer in thefield. You don't need me."

With quick fingers she punched the code into the key panel beside thedoor.

"You were an expert in the field," he reminded her. "It's victima.n.a.lysis-"

"Thanks for helping out with Sabin," she said as the lock relinquishedits grip and she turned the k.n.o.b. "I've got to get back to my officebefore my witness steals all my good pens."

ANGIE MOVED AROUND Kate's office, restless, curious, jumpy.

Kate was p.i.s.sed off about the sketch. She'd hardly said a word all theway back from the police department.

Guilt p.r.i.c.ked Angie like so many tiny needles. Kate was trying to helpher, but she had to look out for herself The two. didn't necessarily gotogether. How was she supposed to know what to do? How was she supposedto know what was right?

You're nothing but a f.u.c.kup! You never do anything right!

"I'm trying," she whispered.

Stupid little b.i.t.c.h. You never listen.

"I'm trying."

Scared was what she was, but she would never speak the word, not even inher mind. The Voice would feed on her fear. The fear would feed on the Voice. She could feel both forces gaining strength inside her.

I'll give you something to be scared of She clamped her hands over herears, as if she might be able to shut out the voice that echoed only inher mind. She rocked herself for a minute, eyes wide open, because ifshe closed them she would see things she didn't want to see again. Herpast was like a bad movie playing over and over and over in her mind,always right there, ready to pull to the surface emotions better leftburied deep.

Hate and love, violent anger, violent need. Hate and love, hate andlove, hateandlove -all one word for her. Feelings so intertwined theywere inseparable, like the tangled limbs of two animals attacking eachother.

The fear swelled a little larger. The Zone was zooming in.

You're afraid of everything, aren't you, crazy little b.i.t.c.h?

Trembling, she stared at the fliers tacked to Kate's bulletin board.

She read the t.i.tles, trying to focus on something before the Zone couldsweep in and suffocate her. Community Resources for Clime Victims, RapeCrisis Center, The Phoen": Women Rising to a New Beginning. Then thet.i.tles blurred and she sat down, breathing just a little too hard.

What the h.e.l.l was taking Kate so long? She'd left with no explanation,said nothing more than that she'd be back in a few minutes, whichwas-how many minutes ago? Angie looked around for a clock, found it,then couldn't remember what time it had been when Kate had left her. Hadn't she looked at the clock then? Why couldn't she remember?

Because you're stupid, that's why. Stupid and crazy.

She began to shiver. It felt like her throat was closing. There was noair in this stupid little room. The walls were pressing in on her. Shetried to swallow as tears flooded her eyes. The Zone was zooming in.

She could feel it coming, could feel the change in the air pressurearound her. She wanted to run, but she couldn't outrun the Zone or theVoice.

So do something. Make it stop, Angel. You know how to make it stop.

Frantic, she shoved the sleeves of her jacket and sweater up andscratched a stubby thumbnail along the thin white lines of the scars,turning them pink. She wanted to get at the cut she'd opened yesterday,to make it bleed again, but she couldn't get her sleeve up that high andshe didn't dare take her coat off for fear someone would come in and catch her.

Kate had told her to wait there, that she would be back in a fewminutes.

The minutes were ticking by.

She'll know how crazy you are then, Angel, The Zone was zooming in Youknow what to do.

But Kate was coming back.

Do it.

The shaking started.

Do it.

The Zone was zooming in Do it!

She didn't dare take the box cutter out of her backpack. How would sheexplain it? She could stick it in her pocketthe panic was setting in.She could feel her mind begin to fracture just as her desperate gaze hiton the dish of paper clips on Kate's desk.

Without hesitation, she grabbed one and straightened it, testing the endwith her fingertip. It wasn't as sharp as the razor. It would hurt more.

Coward. Do it!

"I hate you," she muttered, fighting the tears. "I hate you. I hateyou.)@ Do it! Do it!

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" she whispered, the pressure building in herhead until she thought it would burst.

She dragged the piece of wire across an old scar on her wrist where theskin was as thin and white as paper. She cut parallel to a fine bluevein, and waited for her tear-blurred vision to fill with blood. Richand red, a thin liquid line.

The pain was strong and sweet. The relief was immediate. The pressurelifted. She could breathe again. She could think.

She stared at the crimson ribbon for a moment, some lost part of herdeep, deep inside wanting to cry. But the overwhelming sensation wasrelief She set the paper clip aside and wiped the blood away with thebottom of her sweater. The line bloomed again, bringing an extra wave ofcalm.

She drew her thumb down along the cut, then looked at the way the bloodhad smeared into the whorls and between the ridges of the pad.

Her fingerprint, her. blood, her crime. She stared at it for a longtime, then raised her thumb to her mouth and slowly licked it off. Shefelt a kind of release that was almost s.e.xual. She had conquered thedemon and consumed it. She drew her tongue along the cut, taking up thelast few beads of red.

Still slightly weak-kneed and light-headed, she pulled her sleeve intoplace and got up from the chair to move around the office. She took inevery detail and committed it to memory.

Kate's thick wool coat hung on a wall rack with a funky blackcrushed-velvet hat. Kate had cool taste in clothes for a woman her age.

Angie wanted to try the hat on, but there was no mirror to look in to see it.

A small cartoon on the bulletin board showed a lawyer grilling awitness-a groundhog. "So, Mr. Groundhog, you claim you saw your shadowthat day. But isn't it true you have a drinking problem?"

The desk drawers were locked. There was no purse in sight. She tried thefile cabinet, thinking she might find her own file, but that too waslocked.

As she fingered through the papers on the desk, she was struck by howshe had been in such a state of panic just a few minutes ago and now shefelt strong and in control, just as she had slipping out of and backinto Phoenix House undetected. She hated that part of her that let theZone take over. She hated how weak that part of her was. She knew shecould be strong.

I make you strong, Angel. You need me. You love me. You hate me.

The fresh strength let her ignore the Voice.

She flipped through the Rolodex and stopped on the name Conlan.

Frank and Ingrid in Las Vegas. Kate's parents, she guessed. Kate wouldhave normal parents. A father who went to work in a suit. A mother whomade pot roast and baked cookies. Not the kind of mother who did drugsand slept around. Not the kind of father who didn't give a s.h.i.t abouthis kids, who left and left them at the mercy of the jerks their motherbrought home. Kate Conlan's parents loved Kate like normal people lovedtheir kids. Kate Conlan had never been locked in a closet or whippedwith a wire hanger or forced to go down on her stepfather.

Angie pulled the card from the Rolodex, tore it into tiny pieces, andstuffed the pieces into her jacket pocket.

A stack of mail sat unopened in the in basket. Another stack sat in theout basket. Angie picked the envelopes up and sorted through them. Threeofficial pieces of correspondence in Hennepin County Government Centerenvelopes. One bright yellow envelope addressed by hand to someone namedMaggie Hartman, the return address on a gold foil label in the upperleft corner: Kate Conlan.

She memorized the address and put the envelopes back, her attentionmoving on to the collection of tiny angel statues she had spotted thefirst time she'd come into the office. They sat scattered atop th.e.s.h.elving unit on the desk. Each was different: gla.s.s, bra.s.s, silver,pewter, painted.

None was more than an inch high. Angie singled out the one made ofpainted pottery. She had black hair and dots of turquoise on her dress.

Gold edged her wings and circled her head in a halo.

Angie held the statue close and stared at its round face with black dotsfor eyes and a crooked little smile. She looked happy and innocent,simple and sweet.

Everything you're not, Angel Knowing better than to acknowledge the deepsadness that yawned inside her heart, Angie turned away from the desk,slipping the angel into her coat pocket just as the doork.n.o.b rattled. An instant later Kate came into the room.

"Where the h.e.l.l have you been?" Angie demanded.

Kate looked at her, checking the instant retort before it could get toher tongue. "Damage control" was the most diplomatic thing she could say.

"Sorry it took so long."

Instantly Angie's bravado faded. "I did the best I could!"

Kate doubted that was the truth, but there was nothing to gain in sayingso. What she needed to do was figure out how to get the whole story outof this kid. She dropped into her chair, unlocked the desk, and took abottle of Aleve out of the pencil drawer. She shook out two, downed themwith cold coffee and a grimace, then paused to consider the possibilitythat her charming charge might poison her.

"Don't worry about the sketch," she said, rubbing at the tension in theback of her neck. The tendons stood out like steel rods. She swept hergaze discreetly across the desk. An automatic check that was secondnature after she'd left a client alone in her office. One of her angelswas missing.

Angie settled uneasily on the visitor's chair, leaning her arm on thedesk. "What's going to happen?"

"Nothing. Sabin is frustrated. He needs something big and he was hopingyou'd be it. He talked about cutting you loose, but I talked him out ofit. For now. If he decides you're a scam artist just trying to collectreward money, he'll cut you loose and I won't be able to help you. Ifyou go to a tabloid and try to give them something more than what you'vegiven the cops, Sabin will throw your a.s.s in jail, and no one will beable to help you.

"You're between a rock and a hard place here, Angie. And I know yourfirst instinct is to pull everything inside you and shut the rest of theworld out, but you have to remember one thing: That secret you'reholding, you share it with one other person-and he'll kill you for it."

"I don't need you scaring me."

"G.o.d, I hope not. The man you saw tortures women, kills them, and setstheir bodies on fire. I hope that scares you more than anything I couldsay."

"You don't know what scared is," Angie accused, her voice bitter withmemories. She sprang up out of the chair and began to pace, chewing hardon a thumbnail.

"Then tell me. Tell me something, Angie. Anything I can toss Sabin andthe cops to back them off. What were you doing in the park that night?"

"I told you."

"You were cutting through. From where? From what? If you'd been withsomeone, don't you realize he might have seen this guy too? He mighthave caught a glimpse of a car. He could, at the very least, confirmyour side of things and at the most he could help us catch this monster."

"What do you think?" Angie demanded. "You think I'm a wh.o.r.e?

You think I was there f.u.c.king some john for pocket money? I told youwhat I was doing there. So that means you think I'm a wh.o.r.e and a liar.

f.u.c.k you."

She was out the door that fast, with Kate right behind her.

"Hey! Don't give me that bulls.h.i.t," Kate ordered, catching hold of thegirl's arm, the thinness of it almost startling her.

Angie's expression held as much surprise as anger. This wasn't how itwas supposed to go. This wasn't how the umpteen social workers she'dseen in her young life would have reacted.

"What?" Kate demanded. "You thought I'd go contrite and apologize?

"Oh, gee, I offended Angie! She must never have done anything bad tostay alive on the streets!"' She feigned wide-eyed shock, one hand onher cheek, then dropped the act in a heartbeat. "You think I just rodein on the turnip wagon? I know what goes on in the big bad world, Angie.

I know what women with no homes and no jobs are forced to do to survive.

"Yes, frankly, I do think you were in that park f.u.c.king some john forpocket money. And I know d.a.m.n well you're a liar. You're a thief too.

What I'm telling you is this: I don't care. I'm not judging you. I can'tdo anything about what happened to you before you came into my life,Angie.

I can only help you with what's happening now and with what's going tohappen. You're drowning in this thing and I want to help you. Can youget that through your thick head and quit fighting me?"

The silence was absolute for a second as they stood there in the hall oflegal services, staring at each other-one angry, one wary. Then a phonerang in someone's office, and Kate became aware of Rob Marshall lookingout his door down the hall. She kept her attention on Angie, and prayedto G.o.d Rob would keep his nose out of it. The bleakness in the girl'seyes was enough to break Kate's heart.