"Yes. The FBI wanted everything I did on the case to be top secret. I had to pa.s.s all kinds of background checks and basically go through everything you guys do when you first apply to become agents. Anyway, I pa.s.sed. So now, when the FBI needs something pertaining to a case and they need it top secret, they come to me. I'm an FBI consultant."

Admiration glowed. "You're amazing."

Serena let out a self-conscious laugh. "Not really. It's just the way things worked out."

"Then you really could help me out here. I won't have to be too careful what I say around you."

"I can help."

"Great. You want to follow me?"

"Where?"

"Back to my office. I'll pull everything I can find on Drake Lindell and we'll go through it."

Serena bit her lip. She would love the excuse to spend more time with him, but she had two more autopsies to do before she went home. "I said I can help. And I can, but I really need to get back to work. How about you pull the info and call me. I'll meet you somewhere."

"Deal."

He placed a hand on his door handle, then turned back. Serena waited, wondering at the frown he wore.

"Be careful," he said. "There's no proof that the message was for you or anyone else a.s.sociated with the crime scene, but I do find it odd that someone broke into your house last week and now you're a victim of a purse s.n.a.t.c.hing gone wrong. And you're the ME for this death?" He shook his head. "That's just too many things in a short period of time to be a coincidence. And I'm not a big believer in coincidences."

"I know. I'm not either." She paused. "Although, I have to say that the more I think about it, the more I think the purse s.n.a.t.c.hing was just a purse s.n.a.t.c.hing gone wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I remember I felt the tug on my purse, but I had a good grip and reacted reflexively by pulling against the tug-" she licked her lips and said- "and then I was in front of the bus, so now I'm doubting whether the person was really trying to hurt me. I think he was just trying to grab my purse and when I resisted, he let go and I ended up falling in front of the bus."

Dominic frowned. "That's a reasonable argument, but we don't know that for sure, and I have to admit I'm still a little hesitant to leave you alone."

A puff of air escaped her in a humorless laugh. "Well, there's not much we can do about that. We both need to work."

Still, his hand hovered above the handle of his car door. "Just . . . be on your guard."

He was truly worried about her.

"I will be, I promise." A shiver shuddered through her. The doll's oval face and pink jogging suit danced at the forefront of her mind. She would definitely be careful. And she wouldn't be jogging through the park again anytime soon.

"You have my number," he reminded her. "Promise you'll call if you need anything at all?"

"Promise."

He gave her a warm smile, his eyes lingered on hers a moment longer, then he was in the driver's seat and backing out of the parking s.p.a.ce.

Serena climbed into her Suburban and cranked it.

On the drive back to the morgue, she considered everything that had happened to her in the last week. Receiving the package, the break-in, the dead cla.s.smate, the attempted purse s.n.a.t.c.hing-and now a possible serial killer copycat with a victim who was found on her watch. Something was going on in this town and it seemed to be revolving around her.

She still didn't understand how the man had managed to get into her house without setting off her alarm.

And Yoda hadn't barked, but she wasn't exactly a watchdog. If someone paid her the slightest attention, she was a friend for life. All her intruder had to do was bring her a treat, and if she could have, Yoda would have thrown the door open with a welcoming lick.

Chewie, her cat, would have found a place to hide.

No, getting past her animals wouldn't have been an issue.

Before she had a chance to think about it further, she arrived back at the hospital. She pulled around to the back and parked in her reserved spot.

She thought of spending more time with Dominic, and liked the thought. The man had gotten under her skin before she was old enough to realize what the phrase meant. Now, as an adult, she got it. She was attracted to him. And she wanted to explore that attraction.

Maybe.

As she walked into the morgue, she waved to Dorie. "What time do you get off today?"

"I leave at five." Today Dorie's hair was a light brown, and she had it pulled back with two pins on either side of her temples.

"Meant to tell you this morning, nice hair color."

"Thanks. I was ready for a change."

"You're ready for a change about once a week, aren't you?"

Dorie laughed and shrugged in agreement, then rolled her cart toward the office at the end of the hall.

Serena stuck her head in her boss's office. "Hey, Daniel, I'm back."

"What's up with the girl you brought in?" He consulted his notes. "Leslie Stanton?"

Serena filled him in on the murder and the doll. She didn't bother to mention the doll's resemblance to herself. "Now I've got that cardiac patient, Gary Hanson. The family still insists someone at the hospital was responsible for his death."

"Any chance of that?"

She shrugged. "He had a history of heart problems. He had his first attack at the age of thirty-eight. I'd say he was probably lucky he made it to sixty years old."

Daniel grunted. "Well, glad it's you doing the job. At least I know it'll be done right."

Serena lifted a brow. "Something wrong?"

"Naw." He grimaced and waved her away. "Go do your thing. I'm just ticked about the funding issues that are popping up everywhere I turn."

"Oh." Serena wrinkled her nose. "More cutbacks?"

"Looks like it."

"I'm sorry. Anything I can do?"

He shrugged and sighed. "Nope. Get outta here."

She did, but she couldn't help the ping of anxiety that ran through her. She felt pretty sure her job was secure. But there were those she worked with-the tech, the cleaning staff, and others-whose jobs could be on the line. She prayed as she walked to her office and slipped into a gown.

Just as she released the brakes on Mr. Hanson's gurney, her phone rang. Pausing, she pulled it out and looked at the number.

Camille. One of the girls with Adopt-a-Sis, a program Serena tried to volunteer with at least once a week. Camille had wiggled her way into Serena's heart. Unfortunately, she lived with a father Serena felt sure was emotionally and verbally, if not physically, abusive.

She pressed the b.u.t.ton to answer. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Hi."

Then silence.

"Camille? Are you all right?"

Sniffling.

"Darling, what's wrong?"

A long sigh filtered to her. Then Camille cleared her throat. "My dad kicked me out of the house."

Serena flinched. "I thought you two had kind of worked out your differences in counseling."

"Well . . . um . . . yeah . . . we did. Sort of. But . . . "

"But?"

"That was before he found out that I'm . . . p-pregnant." Loud sobs came from the girl.

"Ohhhh."

"Yes." Camille's sobs faded to a whisper and Serena had to strain to hear her.

"You need a place to stay?" Serena asked.

"No, but . . ."

"You need some money?"

Weeping once again filled Serena's ear. "Okay, honey, it's going to be all right. I have to do an autopsy. It's going to take me about an hour, but I want you to go to the address I'm going to give you and wait for me there. Can you do that?"

More sniffling, a long sigh, then, "Yes."

Serena closed her eyes and gave her the address. "See you there." After Camille hung up, Serena stayed still a moment longer, praying for the girl.

She continued praying even as she rolled Mr. Hanson under the light.

7.

MONDAY, 4:32 P.M.

Dominic sat at his desk and dialed a number he knew by heart. The office hummed with busy agents, but Dominic tuned them out.

Hunter Graham picked up on the third ring. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Any luck on finding my father?" Dominic didn't bother with a formal greeting.

"Nope. The man's gone. If it was him-and we think it was-he left about three hours before we got here."

"b.u.mmer."

"Yeah."

Dominic could hear the weariness in his friend's voice. "So what are you going to do?"

"Head home. We've both got work to do." He paused. "You hear anything about Jillian?"

"No. I've got Terry O'Donnell working on it. I should hear something soon. One way or another."

Hunter grunted. "The woman has disappeared from the face of the earth."

"So it appears." Dominic pushed a paper across his desk searching for his pen that had gone missing. "How does Alexia like working with the Columbia Fire Department? We haven't really talked a lot about it since she got the job." He found the pen under the next set of papers.

"She loves it. Thrilled to be back working fires. I'm not crazy about it. Scares me to death. I live for our days off together so I know she's safe."

"Yeah." Dominic worried about his little sister fighting fires too, but that was what she'd chosen to do, and there wasn't a thing he or Hunter could do about it. Except pray.

Which he found himself doing on a regular basis. For a lot of people. "Bet you can think of better ways of spending those days off than tracking down a deadbeat dad." Silence on the other end. Dominic said, "I'm sorry, shouldn't have said that."

"Dom, you know-"

"I'm working the case now."

The abrupt change of topic didn't faze Hunter. "Which case?"

"The one you talked me into checking out."

"The dead girl in the park? My take-pity-on-Dominic case?"

Dominic allowed himself a small smile. It was more the other way around-Hunter had his hands full to overflowing with all of his cases. "That would be the one. It's now an official FBI case. I think we've got a serial killer running around our city and I aim to catch him before he kills again."

"Fill me in."

Dominic did, and when he finished, Hunter said, "We'll be back before lunch tomorrow. We'll catch up then."