"Sarah..." He placed the pretzels and bottle on the coffee table.

She held up a hand. "It's not your fault I felt that way. You weren't the reason I was on that floor-I was. I'm to blame for everything that's happened in my life."

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way." He rubbed his hands together. "And don't be too hard on yourself. You're not to blame for anything that went wrong with the investigation. And for the record, the only way I've ever seen you is as the strongest woman I've ever known."

"Thank you," she murmured, feeling almost vindicated by his words.

He glanced at her. "You've changed your appearance. Does that mean you're feeling better about yourself?"

"Yes. That night at the hospital when you said I hadn't dealt with what had happened to me, it made me angry. Then Brooke asked me if she would ever lose the bad feelings she was experiencing. I should have been able to say yes without a pause, but I couldn't. I realized then that you were right and I had to do something. I decided I wasn't going to be a victim anymore."

His eyes held hers. "Your strength continues to amaze me. I noticed that from the start. Most women would be falling apart right about now."

The pretzel she'd been playing with crumbled in her hand and she brushed its remnants onto the coffee table. "I-I want to, but I have all these people who love me. I realized that for the first time tonight and that love empowers me. When I was small, it was just Celia and me and we moved a lot. It was difficult to make friends so I hardened myself to deal with the disappointments and the loneliness. I never let anyone get too close to me."

She paused and Daniel let her talk. It was obvious she needed to do that, to avoid thinking about what had happened.

"We didn't have a lot of money, but I was determined to get an education. I went to college during the day and worked as a waitress at night. Working my way through college took me longer than most people to get my degree. I met Greg at the restaurant where I worked and it was love at first sight. With Greg I was able to open up and to let myself love and it was wonderful. But...but...when Boyd touched me, all that ended. I couldn't feel anymore. I was frozen inside. Once again I hardened myself against the harsh realities of life. I hated it when a man would look at me and if one accidentally touched me I felt as if I was coming apart at the seams. I'm a counselor and I know how unhealthy that is, but I was powerless to change it-until this weekend. And now..."

"Sarah..."

"I took a tiny step forward, but I'm spiraling back to where I was. I'm trying to fight it, but I don't want to. It's easier to be Colder Than Ice."

Daniel inhaled a hard breath. "You know what they call you?"

"Yes, and it's true. I wanted it that way. I didn't want any of the officers to look at me as a desirable woman. I couldn't handle it. The thought of being touched in that way is repulsive to me."

He moved closer, wanting to hold her, but he was careful not to touch her.

She ran her hands up her arms. "I'm not going back into that deep freeze of emotions. I will not do that to myself or my family."

He could see she was fighting the destructive feelings with everything in her and he admired her resilience and spirit. She was a remarkable woman. "Think about Serena and Ja.s.sy," he suggested.

"Yeah." She rested her head against the sofa, her eyes closing. "Ja.s.sy gave me your kiss, but I knew it was for Serena."

In my dreams it's always for you. He wanted to say the words, but she was drifting off to sleep and he let her. It was where she needed to be, away from the nightmare.

He sat for a long time just watching her sleep, enchanted with the freckles sprinkled across her nose. He'd never dreamed she was so starved for love. Maybe that's what pulled him toward her-that need for love, a feeling he knew very well. Growing up in a wealthy family, he'd never had that feeling of being loved. He and Drew had spent their youth in private schools away from home. In the summers, they'd attended summer camps. The holidays were the worst. They were in the Caribbean, France or wherever their parents planned to be with friends. Christmases were never at home. Daniel didn't know what it was like to be a part of a big, loving family. Sarah didn't, either.

He knew that kind of pain-that's why he was so protective of Drew. He wanted Drew to know he had a brother who cared. The good thing that had come out of Drew's drug addiction was that it had pulled them together as a family, for a short amount of time. Muriel, their mother, had tried to take care of Drew, but soon the nurses, therapists and caretakers were brought in and Muriel was off with Dan, their father, on his many business trips.

Daniel thought that Sarah would sleep better in the bed and he was unsure of what to do. He didn't want to wake her up and he didn't know how she'd react if he touched her. Finally he scooped her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. She nestled against him and he held her longer than he probably should have. He laid her gently on the bed and pulled the sheet and blanket over her, resisting the urge to kiss her.

She stirred. "Daniel," she whispered.

"I'm right here. Go back to sleep." I'll never leave you. He meant it.

He returned to the other room, removed his shoulder holster and gun and placed them on the coffee table, within easy reach. Sitting, he took off his shoes and stretched out on the sofa.

He was tired. Every part of him was drained and exhausted, but Daniel knew he wouldn't sleep tonight, wouldn't fully rest until the b.a.s.t.a.r.d threatening Sarah was caught. He turned onto his side and stared at the door and window. There was only one way in and one way out. That was good. It made guarding Sarah that much easier.

Tomorrow he'd see Boyd and hopefully find a connection that would solve this case. He had to solve it and soon. For Sarah.

AT FIVE-THIRTY in the morning, he got up and put his shoes and gun back on, then checked on Sarah. She was still sleeping so he didn't wake her. He had a honey bun and water for breakfast. He wouldn't have time to eat later.

A little before six there was a tap on the door. "It's Chad," he heard and quickly opened the door.

Chad came in with a bag. "I brought breakfast tacos and some other stuff."

"I hope it's something she likes."

Chad shrugged. "I don't know what women like."

"Fruit and green stuff I think."

Chad smiled. "I got apples and bananas."

Daniel slipped into his jacket. "Good. Is there anything I have to go over with you?"

"No, sir," Chad replied. "I won't let anyone in the room under any circ.u.mstances, not even if the building's on fire."

Daniel nodded. "Just let her sleep. It's what she needs."

"I'll guard her with my life, Daniel, and I appreciate you giving me this opportunity. I won't let you down."

"I'll check in several times during the day, but if anything suspicious happens, call me immediately."

"Yes, sir."

Daniel left and called Russ. "Do you have anything?"

"I leaned heavy on Brian Colley and he finally admitted there was an older guy at the party selling heroin. He said he'd seen him at other parties, but doesn't know his name."

"That's c.r.a.p."

"Yeah. That's why I have his a.s.s down at the station. I'm leaning on him until I get a name or Mr. Colley will be spending some time in jail."

"He'll crack eventually," Daniel said. "I'm on my way to the airfield. Lieutenant Tolin has arranged for a helicopter to take me to the prison. I'll call when I get back."

An hour later he crawled out of the helicopter at the Terrell Unit at Livingston. He noticed heavily armed guards in the towers, guards at the entrance and guards on horseback trailed by bloodhounds. The place had an eerie quiet that Daniel tried to shake off as a guard walked up to him and escorted him to the warden. He shook hands with Ted Reson and took in the drab, stark office.

"What can you tell me about Rudy Boyd?" Daniel asked, taking a seat in a vinyl chair.

Ted placed a large folder in front of him. "That's filled with complaints filed by his lawyer."

Daniel flipped through the letters. There were complaints about his cell, his uniform, the roaches, the food, the water and the list went on.

"Evidently, Boyd thought this was going to be a four-star hotel."

"His gall is unbelievable." Daniel shook his head.

"Somehow Mr. Boyd feels he's going to be set free. He's an arrogant son of a b.i.t.c.h, as is his attorney, Arnie Bishop."

"How often does he see Bishop?" Daniel was well-acquainted with Arnie. He was a crooked defense attorney-willing to do anything for money.

"He comes quite often. He was here on Sat.u.r.day."

"Does Boyd see anyone else?"

"No."

Daniel stood. "I'd like to speak with Mr. Boyd."

"The guard will take you, but you have to leave your gun here."

Daniel removed his holster and laid it on the desk.

"Good luck," the warden said as Daniel followed the guard.

They went down long corridors with hollow, echoing sounds. Turning a corner, they walked down a short hall. The guard stopped at a door and spoke into his two-way radio. The door opened electronically.

"They'll bring him through the other door," the guard said. "I'll let you out when you're through."

"Thanks," Daniel said, taking a seat in one of the two metal chairs at a metal table, the only three items in the room. Everything here was steel, solid and secure, housing the dregs of society. Boyd was the lowest. He'd shot Greg in cold blood because he was a police officer. He would have eventually killed Sarah when he was through with her. The man didn't have a conscience or a heart.

Daniel braced himself for a meeting with the devil.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE DOOR CLANGED open and a guard ushered Rudy Boyd into the room. He wore prison white and his arms and feet were shackled, but basically he was the same-same black hair, cold dark eyes and a mocking leer as if he knew something the rest of the world didn't. He hobbled to the empty metal chair and flopped down.

"Well, if it ain't Detective Daniel Garrett," Boyd snickered. "Aren't you a little out of your jurisdiction?"

"Your crimes are in my jurisdiction," Daniel replied with as much calm as he could muster.

Boyd leaned back and stretched his shackled feet as far out as he could. "Crimes? Now that's where you and I disagree. I was just giving people what they wanted, something to make them feel better, something to make them forget their problems."

"Heroin."

"Yeah. The good stuff. I only sell the best."

"And you shot Greg Larson because he was getting too close to nailing you."

Boyd's eyes darkened. "No one puts the screws to me. No one, not even you, Detective Garrett."

"Well, Boyd, I'd say you're pretty well screwed sitting here on death row."

The leer altered for a split second, long enough for Daniel to notice it. He'd hit a nerve.

"How's the lovely Sarah?" Boyd taunted, the leer firmly in place. "You seemed very attached to her during my trial and appeal."

Daniel's heart rate quickened, but he kept his expression blank. "Why are you asking about Sarah Welch?"

"She's a beautiful woman, hard to forget. Long legs, tiny waist, b.r.e.a.s.t.s made for a man to caress, porcelain skin and all that red hair. Mmm, mmm, what a picture. She's like fire and ice. You have to chip through the ice to get to the fire, but it's worth the effort."

"But you never got to the fire," Daniel reminded him, trying not to react, trying to play it cool.

The dark eyes blackened to fever pitch. "Because of you, Garrett, and you will pay for that in ways you can never imagine."

"Really?"

"Yes. You and your Keystone Cops."

"We got you and you're waiting for them to stick a needle in your arm."

Boyd leaned forward. "That will never happen. Never."

There was such confidence in his voice that Daniel had to go further. "Do you know something that I don't?"

"A p.i.s.sant knows more than you, Garrett."

Daniel stood. "I know you're the lowest form of life and I know you have something to do with the young girls being raped and murdered in Dallas."

Boyd didn't deny it, just kept watching Daniel. Then he shook his head. "So sad-those beautiful young girls, their lives gone just like that." There wasn't an ounce of remorse in his voice or on his face.

"The heroin in the arm-that's your calling card."

"That is a bit suspicious, now isn't it?"

The needle in the arm hadn't been released to the press so there was no way Boyd could have known about it unless he'd had firsthand information.

Boyd lumbered to his feet, the chains rattling. "Have the D.A. put something on the table and I might help you."

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d-he was after a deal to save his rotten life. Daniel's stomach churned.

"No deals, Boyd."

"That's a pity, a real pity. Because if I die, a lot of young women in Dallas will, too." He shuffled toward the door. "Guard," he shouted. Then he looked back at Daniel. "Look after Sarah baby, won't you?"

Daniel restrained himself from jumping across the table and strangling the life out of him. That would come soon enough.