"I need you to come over to my house. The killer's been in my garage."

"What!" His shout stung her ear and she grimaced. Before she had time to explain, he said, "I just left there two hours ago. I'm on my way."

"I'm calling Rick. Then I've got to call Alexia and tell her. She was here when the killer was, she needs to watch her back."

"I'll get everyone else."

Hands shaking, she dialed and lifted the phone to her ear once more.

Rick answered on the second ring. "You need something?"

"Yes, I need you to process the evidence sitting in my car."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean bring your kit and come on over to my house."

"Okay, see you in a few." Rick sounded puzzled, but it would all clear up for him once he got over here.

Ten minutes later, Dominic pulled into her driveway, jaw tight, eyes flashing.

"Show me."

Dominic stared at the doll sitting in Serena's car. She looked completely different than the other ones. Straight light brown hair, hazel eyes, two little hoop earrings pierced through the ears. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt.

And the 4 6 note card with the cryptic little message.

Serena read aloud,"'Eenie meenie miney moe, now you see her, now you don't. The game is close but the clock ticks on. King me, checkmate, or are you just a con? Look close, look near, she's calling your name. It's your move, it's your play in this cat-and-mouse game.'" She licked her lips and repeated, "Look close, look near, she's calling your name."

Dominic grunted. "He references checkers with the 'king me' thing. And chess with the checkmate statement." Pursing his lips, Dominic blew a disgusted raspberry. "He's a really bad poet."

Serena shook her head. "He may be a bad poet, but he's good at confusing me. There's no dead body again, just the note."

"Yeah, no package either, just the doll." Dominic pursed his lips and looked at the doll again. Then he met Serena's gaze. "Was your car locked?"

"No, it was in my closed garage. I didn't even think about locking it in here."

For the next ten minutes, they bounced ideas off one another as to how the person who had left the doll had gained access to her garage.

"I was here all night," he muttered and paced. "The windows are tight. Locked," Dominic noted as he looked around the area. "I tested them the other day and it doesn't look like they've been touched."

He nodded to a door. "I a.s.sume that leads to a storage area?"

"Yes, but I keep it locked." She walked over and tested the k.n.o.b. "Still locked."

He nodded. "All right."

"Hey guys, what do you have for me?" Rick called as he walked up the drive.

Serena waved him over. Mickey trailed behind him, camera ready for action.

Rick looked in the car and let out a low whistle. "Well, this makes things even more personal, doesn't it?"

"Just a little," she agreed, not bothering to filter the sarcasm.

Rick examined the door. "I'll see if I can get some prints off the handle, but if you've already touched it, I'm not sure what I'll get."

"I touched it to open it. I didn't see the doll sitting there until I was already in the car."

"Well, the doll's in the pa.s.senger seat, maybe he used the other door."

Colton walked up. Serena greeted him. He said, "Dom filled me in when he called. Hunter's got someone tailing Alexia today." He looked at Serena. "I'm sure he would be grateful if you wouldn't mention that to her."

Serena shook her head. "I won't say a word. Whatever works to keep her safe."

Colton nodded, then jerked his head at the doll. "Does she look familiar to you?"

"She could be anyone." Serena paused. "If the dolls are actually supposed to represent real people. And it's beginning to look like that's the intent."

"All right," Rick said. He walked around to the back of the vehicle. "Can you pop the back?"

She clicked the b.u.t.ton on the remote and the back hatch lifted as though in slow motion.

"Um, Serena? I think I know what the message means."

She walked around to the back and sucked in a deep breath. A young woman stared up at her with dead milky hazel eyes. The bullet hole in her forehead gaped.

Serena looked at Rick, then Dominic. "He's not wasting any time upping the body count, is he?"

"Do you recognize her?"

"No, but that doesn't mean she's not in my yearbook." She swallowed hard. "Is the task force making any headway on contacting the cla.s.s?"

"Yeah," he said, sounding subdued, "but this one obviously didn't get the message soon enough."

An hour and a half later, Serena slipped off her gloves and blew a stray hair from her face. Sorrow snagged her and wouldn't let go. Three women dead now. Plus Howard.

Because of what?

What was this all about?

"We've got the pictures, so let's get this stuff bagged. We'll need to keep your car, Serena."

Serena grimaced. "I don't like it, but all right."

"You'll like it if we get a print or two that gives us a hit and leads us to the killer."

"True," she sighed.

"Need a ride to the rental car place?" Dominic asked.

She looked into his eyes. His kind, concerned, bright green eyes. "Looks like I do."

"I'll be happy to volunteer for taxi duty." Those eyes crinkled at the corners as he offered a sympathetic smile.

"And I'll let you." Exhaustion swept over her and she realized how long they'd been diligently working the area. It felt like she'd been up twenty-four hours straight. But it was only 11:00 in the morning. This case and being stalked by a serial killer was wearing her down.

Serena stood. "Why is this sicko leaving a doll and a dead body in my car?"

"He left a package on my front porch, a dead body in my shed, a doll and a dead body in your car. He's leaving messages all over the place," Dominic murmured.

"Yes, but what do they mean?" she asked. "I don't understand what his messages mean other than I'm-we're-targets." She sliced her hand through the air to emphasize her point. "Okay, I get that. I'm tired of his games."

Dominic nodded. "I am too, but we can't stop now. He's already planning his next move."

Serena allowed Dominic to usher her out onto the driveway. The sun still beat down and she broke into an instant sweat.

Rick was just finishing up. He looked at her. "She's on her way to the morgue."

"Thanks."

After getting what she needed, she climbed into the pa.s.senger seat of Dominic's F-150. Once she'd gotten her rental, she said goodbye to Dominic and headed to work.

She'd called Daniel, her boss, and explained that she was going to be late but hadn't told him why. When she walked into her office, she saw Paul on the computer. He looked up at her entrance. "Hey, everything okay?"

"I'll explain later. What'd I miss in the meeting?"

"Nothing. It was postponed. Daniel was called into a meeting with the bigwigs first thing this morning and said we'd meet later."

"So what time are we meeting?"

Paul glanced at the clock on the wall. "In thirty minutes. They're serving us some kind of cheap bag lunch thing from the cafeteria." He stood and nodded toward the body on a nearby table. "Patricia Morris. I'll have her prepped for you before the meeting."

Thirty minutes later, Serena slipped into her lab coat, then into the chair in the conference room for her hour-long meeting. As she munched on the chicken salad sandwich, chips, and apple provided, Daniel discussed cutbacks and what he was doing to try to preserve everyone's job.

Paul leaned over and whispered, "If they'd let us buy our own lunch, that would save a few bucks."

Serena smiled. "I don't think it's going to matter in the long run."

Paul didn't smile back. "If I lose this job, I'm toast."

Patting his arm, she whispered back, "I know, Paul. That's why Daniel's doing everything he can to make sure that doesn't happen."

He gave a slow nod, but the furrows over the bridge of his nose told her he was still worried. Then Daniel called for her report.

She gave an update on the autopsies she'd performed and got her a.s.signments for the rest of the day and tomorrow.

After the meeting, she walked to her office, her mind spinning with everything going on. She had two autopsies today. Patricia Morris and the Jane Doe who'd been placed in the back of Serena's car. She was anxious to get to them and see if she could get some answers that would help the authorities find the killer.

Then she would catch up on her paperwork. And at some point, she really needed to touch base with Camille. Serena sent the girl a text asking her to meet her for an ice cream at the park later this afternoon.

Paul strode along beside her. "We only have two today."

"I know."

"That's not good." At her lifted brow, he hastened to a.s.sure her, "I mean, not that I want people to die, but what if Daniel sees that I'm not very busy? He may think you can handle everything on your own."

Serena walked into her office, motioned Paul inside, and shut the door. "Paul, you're a great a.s.sistant, one of the best I've worked with. You're insightful, smart, and seem to know more about diseases, drugs, and death than I do." His lips quirked at that statement. "In fact, I've often wondered why you haven't gone on and become an ME." He shrugged and looked away. Serena said, "You've had wonderful evaluations and I know for a fact that Daniel thinks very highly of you. We both want you here and we'll fight for you, okay?"

His blue eyes met her gaze once more. Some of the tension left his shoulders and his jaw relaxed. "All right. Good enough. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now, let's go see what Patricia has to tell us."

Unfortunately, Patricia didn't have a lot to say. And so far, neither did Jane Doe. Serena had called Daniel in for help on the autopsies in order to finish them and get the results for the police fast. With his and Paul's help, they'd discovered nothing new, but at least they were finished. Daniel left after telling her to call him if she needed anything else.

Everything Serena had deduced while at the crime scene was just reinforced by Jane Doe's autopsy. Dominic had arrived toward the end, ready to take Serena over to the prison for their meeting with Drake Lindell.

Looking up, she told Dominic, "The bullet in Patricia's forehead killed her. There's no trauma, no defense wounds, no sign of s.e.xual a.s.sault, nothing." Her gaze bounced back and forth between Dominic and Paul. "She's been cleaned up-post-mortem. I haven't even found a stray hair. There was some residue from the shed, of course, but nothing that will lead us to the killer. At least nothing obvious. Maybe the lab will find something more." She sighed and frowned. "Jane Doe's results are pretty much the same. I'm stumped and I don't like it."

"What about the tox screens?"

"I'm waiting on them."

"What about Leslie's tox screen?"

"Still waiting on that too. I called about it before I started Patricia's autopsy and Christine said she'd have it to me ASAP." Serena removed her gloves and threw them in the red hazardous waste bin to her left. She walked to the computer in the corner and with a few clicks saw the information in her inbox. "And Christine was as good as her word. It's back."

Serena pulled up the doc.u.ment and read while Dominic stood behind her, leaning over her shoulder. "She had some alcohol in her system, but it's about the amount you'd have if you had a gla.s.s of wine with dinner. No red flag there." She scrolled down. "But here. Wait a minute. What's this?"

"What?" Dominic moved closer. Crowding her. She inhaled a whiff of his spicy cologne and decided she didn't mind his close proximity. Blinking, she focused back on the screen.

"Scopolamine."

"What is that?"

"A drug." She drew in a deep breath. "Well, that's interesting."

"I know it's a drug. What kind?"

"I don't know a lot about it, but-"

"I can tell you about it," Paul said.

Serena's fingers halted on the keys as she said, "Okay, fill us in."

Paul slipped his gloves off and tossed them in the red biohazard materials bin. "It's used to render victims helpless, docile. And it's not like the common date rape drug, Rohypnol, better known as roofies. With scopolamine, the drug blocks any formation of memories, so victims don't have a memory of anything they do or anything that happens to them while under the influence of it."

"What about hypnosis?" Dominic asked.