Swallowing her emotions, she zipped the bag, stopping at the woman's face. Staring down at the life cut short, she felt sorrow seize her.

"I'm sorry, Leslie," she whispered. "I'm going to find who did this to you."

"Still talking to the dead?"

The quiet voice behind her made her freeze. And her heart gave a startled thud before settling back into a faster than normal rhythm. She finished zipping the bag. "Almost every day."

"Do they ever talk back?" Dominic Allen stepped into her peripheral vision and pushed his sungla.s.ses to the top of the short red curls that lay tight around his head.

"All the time." Serena kept her voice even, hoping the sudden tremor in her hands wasn't noticeable as Dominic took one end of the gurney without her asking. Together, they pushed it to the back of the vehicle where Serena opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I've got two more days of medical leave. Supposed to be recovering from my surgery."

Serena knew from Alexia about Dominic's surgery. He'd been a bone marrow donor for his mother, who suffered from aplastic anemia. "Glad to see you're feeling better."

"Pretty much back to 100 percent." A smile crossed his lips. "I'm not here officially. Hunter knew I've been climbing the walls from sheer boredom, so when he got this call, he sent me a text. I'll fill him in once he gets back in town."

She eyed him. "And that's the only reason you're here?"

He paused. "You got me. He said you'd be here and I need to talk to you."

"About?"

"Jillian Carter." Dominic's smile faded. "He wants me to quietly look into Jillian's disappearance. I have access to resources he doesn't have."

Serena felt the tremor ease, but a ball of ice formed in her gut. "Really? Why?"

"Because we want to find the man who got away. The person behind Alexia's kidnapping is still out there and she's not truly safe until he's caught. His main concern seemed to be finding Jillian. When he had Alexia, he questioned her at length about how to find Jillian. When she finally convinced him she didn't know, he left orders for Lori to kill her. Thankfully, Alexia got away. But . . . we still need to find the person behind everything. So . . . we find Jillian, we find our mystery man."

Serena gave Dominic a wary look and said, "Sounds kind of like setting up a trap for Jillian to walk into."

Dominic rubbed a hand down the side of his face. "Maybe, but we were hoping it would be a trap for the guy who had Alexia kidnapped. Not for Jillian."

Still unsure about that whole plan, she said, "And you think I can help?"

"Alexia said you were the last one to talk to Jillian. Everything that happened to Alexia has something to do with Jillian. We just need to figure out what."

"Jillian called me a couple of months ago," Serena admitted, "but she didn't say much. Asked a few questions, then said she was coming home."

"But she didn't say when?"

"No. She said she had a few things to take care of first."

"You said she asked you questions. I need to know what those were." He gestured to Leslie. "After you get her taken care of, will you meet me for a cup of coffee?"

Dominic asking her out. She'd dreamed of this day since she was twelve. Only it wasn't a date. Not really. "I might be able to do that." Proud of the cool tone she managed to achieve, Serena motioned for help to get Leslie into the back of the vehicle.

Dominic offered his a.s.sistance once again and together they got Leslie situated and the doors shut after her.

Serena pulled off her gloves and disposed of them in the hazardous waste bag. She finally turned and got a good look at Dominic Allen. He still looked as good as he had the last time she'd seen him. She'd been fourteen, he'd been seventeen.

His red hair and emerald green eyes still made her heart flutter. "Give me a couple of hours to get things wrapped up."

Dominic slipped her a card. "My cell number is on here. I'll be waiting."

Standing next to his car, one hand on the open door, the other wrapped around his keys, Dominic paused and watched the very competent Serena speak to the coroner. At five feet nine, she looked exotic with her olive skin, flashing blue eyes, and straight black hair. Right now, she wore it pulled up into a ponytail, but he could envision it flowing around her shoulders.

He blinked and shook his head, remembering the feel of her skin as she'd taken the card from his hand. Her fingers had sc.r.a.ped his palm and his heart had trembled at the contact.

Weird. Very weird. But intriguing. She'd been his kid sister's best friend all through grade school, middle school, and high school. Because of his father's penchant for alcohol and swinging fists, Serena had only been over to the Allen household occasionally.

And he had to admit he'd noticed she was a cute kid, then a pretty preteen. And he also had to admit if she'd been older, he'd have been interested. Then everything had fallen apart and he'd fled, doing his best to leave his memories behind him.

Only now he had a feeling Serena would play a prominent role in his thoughts, and it was a feeling he wasn't sure he was comfortable with.

Serena could very easily become a distraction for him and that was something he couldn't afford right now.

Then she turned and gave him a small wave.

And he decided maybe he could live with one distraction.

Dominic slid into his car and cranked it. He wondered how long he'd have to wait before Serena called him.

The game was off to a rocking good start. Excitement boiled as the killer stood amongst the ma.s.ses, back behind the newly placed yellow tape, taking delight in the chaos caused by the discovery of Leslie. Leslie hadn't wanted to play the game right. She'd cheated and stolen the fun. When the toys broke or weren't fun anymore, they had to be thrown away and replaced with a new one.

Replacing Leslie would be a challenge.

The killer shifted, twisting fingers that had gently washed Leslie's hair only hours before.

Already, antic.i.p.ation for the next name burned inside.

Another call would come.

Two more names would be whispered.

Who would it be? Excitement at the unknown churned even as impatience escalated. Who?

Eenie meenie miney moe.

"She received the package in the mail last week."

"What's in it?" Senator Frank Hoffman tensed as he awaited the answer. He'd been desperate to get his hands on the package they'd discovered was en route.

A brief moment of silence echoed over the line. "I don't know, she beat me to it. When she signed for it, all I had time to see was the return address from California. I checked out the name on the package and had a buddy of mine in law enforcement do a facial scan. Investigative Reporter Julie Carson is definitely Jillian Carter." He paused. "And now she's disappeared again. I think the PI I put on her spooked her somehow. He can't find a sign of her anywhere."

Frank slammed his fist onto the desk. His coffee sloshed over the side of his mug. Ignoring it, he leaned forward, fingers gripping the phone he had jammed to his ear.

"We found her, only to lose her? I thought you said you had this covered."

"I do." The voice never changed in pitch or tone, but Frank still shivered. He might think he was calling the shots, but he had to admit-if only to himself-that the person on the other end scared him a little. The voice continued, "I've found someone to take care of the problem. When the time is right, the problem will be resolved."

"What kind of someone?"

"Someone who knows exactly what needs to be done and will do it without hesitation."

"Does Serena know she's a target?"

Another pause. "She may suspect something after the break-in."

"Break-in? What break-in? Did you have something to do with it?"

"I did. We failed to find what we were looking for."

Frank grunted. "We seem to be having a lot of that lately."

"Serena has a gun and knows how to use it. The guy I hired to get the package is now in a coma in the hospital. Fortunately, his prints aren't in the system."

Fear shot through Frank. "Can he be traced back to you in any way?" If he could, he could be traced to Frank.

"No."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I'm sure."

Frank paused, and regained control. "We need to get her out of the picture, to stay out of her house to give us time to search it. And then when we find what we're looking for, get rid of her."

"I know. And I've got it covered." Satisfaction sounded in the voice and Frank felt slightly better. Slightly.

"And how are you going to accomplish that?" he asked.

"I've already set things in motion." A light chuckle graced the line. "It's amazing how contacts you once wished buried forever can come back to save your skin."

Well, that was good to know. Maybe.

"I want to know what's in that package." Frank forced calm into his tone. "It could lead us to Jillian." Or it could land him in prison.

"I'm working on it."

"Work harder."

5.

MONDAY, 11:45 A.M.

Serena straightened and stretched, her back aching, her thoughts whirling. She examined the gunshot wound one more time, content that her findings were correct. "The gunshot in her shoulder didn't kill her. Slowed her down and hurt like crazy, I'm sure, but it didn't kill her. The one to the forehead did the trick."

Paul Hamilton, her a.s.sistant, nodded his agreement. Serena made the Y-cut and they started on the organs. Serena talked as she worked, recording her findings to be sure she didn't forget anything when it came time to write the report.

Paul took the liver from her. He would weigh it, record it, and then move on to the next organ.

They worked in a practiced synchronized harmony that came with doing this many times. When she finished with the internal exam, she did another external one on Leslie's legs. As she did, her thoughts went to the man she'd shot in the head and who now lay in a coma four floors above her.

The 9-1-1 call had confirmed the fact that Serena had acted in self-defense. No action would be taken against her. However, she wanted the man to wake up and tell her why he'd targeted her. It was no random break-in. He'd called Serena by name.

"You okay?" Paul asked.

She glanced at the handsome young man in his late twenties. His dark hair set off his light blue eyes, and the dimple in his left cheek had charmed just about every woman he'd come into contact with at the hospital.

Serena found him to be a top-notch a.s.sistant who'd also become a friend in the year that they'd worked together. At first she thought he might have some romantic feelings toward her, but when she didn't encourage him, he backed off and now seemed content with a good friendship. "I'm fine. Just thinking."

"About the man you shot?" His dimple flashed at her.

She lifted a brow. "You're getting pretty good at that mind reading stuff."

He grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. "It's called spending a lot of time with someone and getting to know her."

"Hmm. I suppose."

"Ready for me yet?"

Paul jumped and Serena gasped, startled at the sudden question that came from behind her. She whirled to see Dorie standing in the doorway.

Dorie laughed, then sobered. "Oops, sorry, didn't mean to sneak up on y'all."

Heart still thumping with the adrenaline surge, Serena placed a hand on her chest and gulped. "It's all right. We're just about finished here."

Dorie King, the morgue janitor, was about fifty pounds overweight, but she moved her pear-shaped body easily, never seeming to tire while she worked. The woman could have been anywhere between thirty and fifty with straight auburn, chin-length hair, and dark brown eyes.

Even though Dorie was a recent hire, Serena had come to appreciate her unique sense of humor and cheery outlook on life. Working a swing shift wasn't easy, but Serena had never heard the woman complain.

Which was a miracle in itself considering what she had to clean up sometimes.

"Can you tell me about her?" Dorie asked, pointing to Leslie.

And Dorie had an insatiable curiosity about all of Serena's patients, as she hoped one day to have Serena's job. A fact Dorie had told her with gleeful satisfaction. Then laughed. "Well, not your job, but I do want to be a medical examiner one day. What better way to get there than from the ground up?"

So Serena did her best to teach Dorie every chance she got.

Looking at the clock, she gasped. There would be no time for teaching today. "Oh Dorie, excuse me, I'm sorry, but I have something I have to do today. Paul can fill you in if he has time." No names would be mentioned and nothing about the crime. When she taught, she kept to the facts of the autopsy. And Dorie knew better than to ask for anything more.

Paul clicked his tongue with regret. "Sorry, Dorie, I'm off to a dentist appointment."