a few questions about your roommate."

FIFTY-ONE.

Sat.u.r.day, November 8, 2003

11:00 a.m.

Jane awakened to find Stacy gone. She'd left her a message propped up against the coffeepot.

Gone to work. Got my cell. Ranger fed and walked.

Don't push it-or else!

Jane smiled at the bossy, no-nonsense tone of her sister's note. Truth was, it had been a long time since

Stacy had cared enough to be bossy and she was glad to have her big sister back.

They hadn't spoken much the night before. Stacy had returned to the loft late, after Jane had gone to bed.

Stacy had been asleep later, when Jane had tiptoed out to the living room. Unable to sleep for thoughts of Ian and their future. Her miscarriage. Ones of Ted.

Jane had intended to wake her sister. And tell her everything.

Instead, she had stood in the doorway and watched her sleep. Affection swamping her. Grat.i.tude. Pride.

She loved her sister. She had missed her. Having her back in her life was good. The one good thing she

could hang on to now.

Jane had returned to bed without waking her. Morning, she had decided, would be soon enough to talk.

Mercifully, sleep had come.

Jane bent and patted Ranger, then poured herself a cup of the coffee. She sipped and found it still fresh.

She crossed with her coffee to the phone and dialed Ted. She got a busy signal, hung up and tried his cell. It went straight to messaging.

"Ted," she said. "Jane. What happened? Call me." Jane ate, showered and dressed. She recoded the alarm, though she wondered how long it would take to commit the new pa.s.s code to memory. For as long as she could remember, both she and Stacy had used the same one-031387.

March 13, 1987. The date that had changed their lives forever.

That done, she tried Ted again, this time getting his apartment answering machine. She left another

message, concern growing.

Something wasn 't right. He 'd said he would call her.

Ranger seemed to agree. He stood at door that led to her studio, nose pressed to the crack.

She crossed to stand beside him. "What's wrong, boy?"

He growled, low in his throat. Jane glanced back toward the kitchen and the phone lying on the counter.

She could call Stacy.

And tell her what? That Ranger was acting funny?

Feeling more than a little bit ridiculous, she laid her ear against the door. From the studio came the sound

of music. The jazz Ted preferred.

Of course. He often came in on weekends. Sometimes to catch up on work, others to use her computer.

She had been trying to reach him, and he had been in the studio all along.

Jane unlocked the door, Ranger leapt forward, barreling down the stairs, nearly knocking her down in

the process.

"Ranger! Jeez, where's the fire? Ted?" she called, following Ranger down. "I can't wait to hear what happened."

The man didn't answer. The music grew louder. Ranger began to bark, the sound shrill. Frenzied.

The hair on the back of her neck p.r.i.c.kled.

Even as she told herself she should return to the loft and call Stacy, she moved deeper into the studio.

Her heart thundered. Her palms grew damp. She called out to her friend again.

Again, he didn't respond. She stopped at the foot of the staircase and called Ranger. The animal

appeared around the corner that led to the entrance. He whined, the sound high and anxious. She dropped her gaze.

His paws were wet. Red.

Turn around, Jane. Run.

Instead, as if compelled by a force outside herself, she moved forward. Turned the corner. And found

Ted. He lay facedown in a pool of blood, just inside the door. Beside him lay a pretty plant, spilled. Mired in red. Newspapers, soaked. Ranger's pawprints circling the body, obscene on the light-colored tile.

A choked sound slipped past Jane's lips. She took a step backward. Then another.

Whirling around, she ran to her desk, the phone there. She punched in Stacy's cell number.

"Stacy Killi-"

"She killed him!" she cried. "He was following her and...she killed him! She-"

"Jane? Slow down! What are talking about? Who-"

"The woman...from that night. Here. The one he... Dear G.o.d, she killed him!"

"Who, Jane? Who'd she kill-"

"Ted," she sobbed. "She killed Ted!"

"Get upstairs, Jane!" her sister ordered. "I'm on my way. Lock yourself in the loft. With Ranger. Now!"

FIFTY-TWO.

Sat.u.r.day, November 8, 2003 Noon Stacy and Mac arrived within minutes. A squad car swooped in just behind them, sirens screaming. Jane

saw them from the window and ran to meet her sister. She raced down the flight of stairs to street level,

wrenched the door open before Stacy rang the bell.

Jane fell into her sister's arms, sobbing. "It's all my fault! He did it for me. I shouldn't have let him...should have called you...awakened you, but-"

"Slow down, Jane. First off, where is he?"

"The studio. Just inside...the...entrance."

"I've got it," Mac said to Stacy. He motioned one of the uniforms to follow him.

"Is the door unlocked?"

"I don't know. I entered from upstairs-"

Mac and the uniform headed up the stairs, Mac taking them two at a time.

Jane stared after the two, reliving the moment her gaze had landed on Ted's still form, the sea of blood.

She brought the heels of her hands to her eyes, wishing she could blot it out. Return to yesterday. To three weeks ago, when life had been so easy.

Stacy gently caught her wrists. She eased her hands away from her face and looked her in the eyes.

"First off, are you all right?"