She felt ill. She struggled to detach herself from her emotions, evaluate what Mac was telling her. To sort

the pieces of the story and decide on their next move.

"Doobie insisted his life went downhill after that. He never could move beyond it. Never get the sound of the girl's screams out of his head, the image of her there, helpless, in the water."

Same as her, Stacy thought. "What was the kid's name?" she demanded. "The one driving the boat."

"I don't know. He wouldn't tell me."

"I want that name."

"I'll ask around. See if I can locate him. He may be long gone, though. Guys like him tend to have a short

shelf life."

"Fair enough."

He gazed at her a moment, a.s.sessingly. "You do acknowledge that the chance of the person who sent the

clipping being the same one who ran your sister down sixteen years ago is d.a.m.n slim? Your comment to

Jane was right on, why would this guy appear after all these years?"

She laughed, the sound hard. "True. But even a d.a.m.n slim chance makes me uncomfortable. She's my sister, Mac."

"The wording on the clipping-'I did it to hear your screams'- how certain are you that those words didn't appear in any of the news stories that ran at the time? Jane, or someone else, could have uttered them. It would have made an attention-grabbing headline."

Stacy could imagine it: Girl insists he did it on purpose.

"I'm not certain," Stacy murmured. "But I will be." She frowned. "The immediate question is, how serious should we take what happened tonight? A sick joke or real threat?" "You want my opinion?" "Of course."

"For now, a sick joke. She hears from him again and I'll reevaluate."

He glanced up at Jane's windows, brow furrowed in thought. "How well do you know Ted?" he asked.

"Ted? Not well, though he's been with my sister for some time. She's quite fond of him. Why?"

"He was here when she arrived home. So was the envelope. Could be a coincidence."

"Or not," she finished. They fell silent a moment. "Maybe I'll run a background check on him."

"Good idea. I'll give my buddies in Vice a call."

He held her gaze. Once again Stacy was struck by the intensity of his. The way she reacted to it.

He glanced at his watch. "I hate to be the first to leave this party, but I'm looking at a h.e.l.l of a day

ahead."

"Go on. I'm out of here, too."

She opened her car door. Before she climbed in, he called her name, stopping her. She turned and met

his eyes once more. "Yeah?"

"Doobie, the snitch. He was still afraid of the guy, after all these years. That's why he wouldn't tell me his name. He said this kid was the scariest son of a b.i.t.c.h he'd ever known."

TWENTY-FIVE Thursday, October 23, 2003 1:15 a.m.

Stacy sat behind the wheel of her SUV, gazing up at Jane's loft for a long time after Mac drove off. She

made no move to start her engine, though she was cold and her hands, curled tightly around the steering wheel, had grown numb.

This kid was the scariest son of a b.i.t.c.h he'd ever known.

I did it on purpose. To hear your screams.

Like Mac's snitch, she had never been able to get the sound of Jane's screams out of her head. She could

recall them now, if she would allow herself.

Stacy leaned her head against the rest and closed her eyes. Her head filled with an image-not of that

horrific day at the lake, not of one of the murder scenes she had processed over the years- but of Mac.

His expression as he had tucked her hair behind her ear. His smile. The intensity in his gaze.

He had looked at her the way a man looked at a woman he was attracted to.

She was more tired than she thought, Stacy decided, sitting up and jamming the key into the ignition. Mac

was not attracted to her. She was not so foolish as to be attracted to him. They were partners. Any kind

of relationship that extended beyond that would be suicide.

In one fell swoop she could destroy the reputation she had worked so hard to build. Sleep with your partner, you became a bimbo. Period. Forget keeping it secret; that kind of news always got out. Forget the relationship becoming permanent; it wouldn't.

Annoyed with her thoughts and with the longing that nibbled at her resolve, she twisted the key and the engine came to life. She shifted into first, glancing up at her sister's window as she did.

Ted Jackman stood at the window, silhouetted against the light, staring down at her.

A chill moved over her.

How well do you know Ted Jackman?

Not well enough to trust him, she realized. Not well enough to leave her sister in his care.

Muttering an oath, she flipped open her cell phone and dialed Jane. Her sister answered immediately.

"Jane, it's Stacy. I'm downstairs." Stacy didn't give her a chance to respond. "You shouldn't be alone tonight. I think I should stay with you."

"I'll be all right," she said stiffly. "Ted's still here. He's offered to stay."

"I'm your sister. Protecting you is my job."

"And here I thought you were a cop."

"I'm family first." As she said it, she realized she meant it. The job be d.a.m.ned; Jane was all the family she

had left. "I didn't have anything to do with what's happened to Ian. And there was nothing I could have done to stop it. In fact, I was reprimanded because of my personal involvement, first by my partner, then my captain.

"Yes," she continued, "I'm a police officer. But I've been your sister a lot longer. And you need me, whether you want to admit it or not. Now, are you going to buzz me up or what?"

For a long moment, Jane remained silent. Just as Stacy opened her mouth to tell Jane just how pigheaded she was being, her sister capitulated. "Give me two minutes."

Stacy climbed out of her vehicle, locked it and crossed the sidewalk to Jane's door. She reached it just as the buzzer announced it unlocked. She pushed it open and stepped inside. Ted was coming down the stairs toward her; Jane stood in the doorway above, silhouetted by the light behind her.

Stacy stepped aside so the man could pa.s.s. He met her eyes as he did. The malevolence in his surprised her.

"Excuse me?" she said.

He stopped, looked back, expression benign. "I didn't say anything."

She frowned. Had she imagined the ill will she'd seen in his eyes? Or had he quickly masked his true feelings? "Thanks for staying," she said.

He stared at her a moment, then nodded. "I love Jane. Of course I stayed."

She heard the indictment in his tone; the accusation: You're Jane's sister, why haven't you been here for her?

Even as guilt licked at her, she watched him go, frowning. The door slammed shut behind him,

automatically locking. She checked it to be certain, then climbed the stairs.

"Interesting guy," she said as she reached the top.

"He's very loyal."

Meaning she wasn't. Stacy made a noncommittal sound. "Where did you find him?"

"He found me, actually."