n.o.ble and Brandt making excuses for him, lying for him. Quinn asking thedefinitive question: Were they protecting him for his sake or for theirown?

Time pa.s.sed as he sat in the chair, thinking back, reliving all of itfrom Jillian's birth, on through his every devastating mistake, to thismoment and beyond. He stared out the window, not seeing the news vans,the reporters waiting for an appearance by him, a sound bite from him.He hugged the duffel bag and rocked from side to side, coming to theonly conclusion that made sense to him.

Then he checked his watch, and waited.

KATE STARED AT the fax, a chill running from the top of her head downher entire body. Her brain picked out key words: burning deaths, mother,stepfather, drinking, drugs, foster care, juvenile records, history ofabuse.

"What's wrong with you?" Angie asked.

"Nothing," Kate said automatically, tearing her gaze from the article.

"I just felt a little dizzy for a minute there."

"I thought maybe you were in the Zone." She smiled like a pixie.

"Wouldn't that be funny?"

"I don't know. What's the Zone like?"

The smile vanished. "It's dark and empty and it swallows you whole andyou feel like you'll never get out, and no one will ever come to getyou," she said, her eyes bleak again. Not empty but bleak, afraid, fullof pain-which meant there was still somethingng in her to save. Whateverhad happened to her in a childhood that culminated with the suspiciousdeaths of her parents, some sc.r.a.p of humanity had survived. And it hadsurvived the last days in "the Devil's bas.e.m.e.nt," wherever that was.

"But sometimes it's a safe place too," she said softly, staring at theblood that ran in rivulets all over her left hand, back and front andaround her wrist. "I can hide there .. . if I dare,"

"Angie? Will you let me get a cold cloth for your hand?" Kate asked.

"Don't you like to see my blood? I do."

"I'd rather not see it dripping on my carpet," Kate said with a hint ofher usual wry tone, more to spark some fire in Angie than out of anyreal concern for the rug, Angie stared at her palm for a moment, thenraised it to her face and wiped the blood down her cheek in a loving caress.

Kate eased away from the desk and backed toward the door.

The girl looked up at her. "Are you going to leave me?"

"No, honey, I'm not going to leave you. I'm just going to get that wet

cloth." And call 911, Kate thought, moving another step toward the door, afraid now to leave the girl for fear of what she might do to herself.

The doorbell rang as she stepped into the hall, and she froze for a

second. A face appeared at one of the sidelights, a round head above apuffed-up down jacket, trying to peer in through the sheer curtain.

Rob.

"Kate, I know you're home," he said, petulant, knocking, his face still pressed to the window. "I can see you standing there."

"What are you doing here?" Kate asked in a harsh whisper, pulling the

door open.

"I heard from the office you weren't going in. We need to talk about this-"

"You can't pick up a telephone?" she started, then caught herself and waved off the argument. "This isn't the time-" Rob looked stubborn.

He moved a little closer. "Kate, we need to talk."

Kate clamped her teeth against a sigh of exasperation. "Could you lower your voice?"

"Why? Is it a neighborhood secret you're trying to avoid me?"

"Don't be an a.s.s. I'm not avoiding you. I've got a situation here.

Angie's shown up and she's in a very fragile mental state."

His little pig eyes rounded. "She's here? What is she doing here?

Have you called the police?"

"Not yet. I don't want to make things worse. She's got a knife and she's

willing to use it--on herself."

"My G.o.d. And you haven't taken it away from her, Ms.

Superwoman?" he said sarcastically as he pushed past her into the hall.

"I'd rather keep all my appendages attached, thanks."

"Has she hurt herself?"

:"So far, it's just surface cuts, but one will need st.i.tches."

"Where is she?"

Kate motioned to the den. "Maybe you can distract her while I call "Has

she told you where she's been? Who took her?"

"Not exactly."

"If she goes to a hospital, she'll clam up out of resentment. It couldbe hours or days before we get the information out of her," he said inan urgent tone. "The police have made an arrest. The press conference isstarting soon. If we can get her to tell us what happened, we can callSabin before it's over."

Kate crossed her arms and considered. She could see Angie still sittingon the couch, drawing patterns with her fingertip on the palm of herb.l.o.o.d.y hand. If paramedics came and hauled her away, she would reactbadly, that was a sure bet. On the other hand, what would they be doingto her?

Trying to drag what they wanted out of her while she sat bleeding andvulnerable.

Trying to catch a killer.

She heaved a sigh. "All right. We try, but if she gets serious with thatknife, I'm calling."

Rob squinted at her. The toothache smile. "I know it pains you, Kate,but sometimes I am right. You'll see this is one of those times. I knowexactly what I'm doing."

WHAT IS HE DOING here?" Angie blurted out the words as if they gave hera bad taste in her mouth.

Rob gave her the toothache smile too. "I'm just here to help, Angie," hesaid, sitting back against the desk.

She gave him a long, hard stare. "I doubt it."

"It looks like you've had a little trouble since we saw you last. Canyou tell us about that?"

"You want to hear about it?" she asked, eyes narrowed, her hoa.r.s.e voicesounding almost seductive. She raised her hand and slowly licked theblood from her palm again, her gaze locked on his. "You want to know whodid this to me? Or do you just want to hear about the s.e.x?"

"Whatever you want to tell us about, Angie," he said evenly. "It'simportant for you to talk about it. We're here to listen."

"I'm sure you are. You like to hear about other people's pain andsuffering. You're a sick little f.u.c.k, aren't you?"

A muscle ticked in Rob's cheek. He held on to his excuse for a smile,but it looked more like he was biting a bullet.

"You're trying my patience, Angie," he said tightly. "I'm sure that'snot what you really want to do. Is it?"

The girl looked away toward the fire for so long that Kate thought shewould never speak again. Maybe she'd gone to the Zone she'd talkedabout.

She held the utility knife in her right hand, pressing the fingertipsagainst the blade.

"Angie," Kate said, moving behind the couch, casually picking up the chenille throw from the back of it as she went. "We're trying to help

you."

She sat on the arm of the unoccupied end, holding the blanket loosely in her lap.

Tears gleamed in Angie's eyes and she shook her head. "No, you're not.

I wanted you to, but you're not. You just want what I can tell you."

Her swollen mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "The funny thing is, you

think you're getting what you want, but you are so wrong."

"Tell us what happened that night at the Phoenix," Rob prompted, trying

to draw her attention back to him. "Kate dropped you off. You went upstairs to take a shower .. . Did someone interrupt you?"

Angie stared at him, slowly scratching the tip of the blade along her

thigh over and over.

"Who came to take you, Angie?" Rob pressed.

"No," she said.

"Who came to take you?" he asked again, enunciating with emphasis.

"No," she said, glaring at him. "I won't do it."

The blade of the knife bit deeper. Sweat glistened on her pale face in

the firelight. The denim shredded. Blood bloomed bright red in the tears.

Kate felt ill at the sight. "Rob, stop it."

"She needs to do this, Kate," he said. "Angie, who came to take you?"

"No." Tears streaked down Angie's battered face. "You can't make me.

"Let her alone." Kate moved off her perch. Christ, she had to do something before the girl cut herself to ribbons.