'I wish I hadn't lost the guy tailing me earlier,' JD said, annoyed with himself. 'It was probably him and I let him get away.'

'You didn't know,' Hyatt said grudgingly, surprising him. 'Elizabeth, get the woman's picture ready for me to give to the press at six. We'll get some extra staff to man the phone lines. I'd rather announce it than make it look like we're hiding something.'

'What about the PI?' Stevie asked. She'd already updated Hyatt with the news of Nicki Fields's death. 'Will you include her in the press conference?'

'No, I won't include the PI,' Hyatt said. 'Not yet. Laurel PD's handed the investigation over to us. I debriefed the two detectives assigned the case. They've tried to track the PI's movements, but hit a roadblock. Her cell was prepaid. There are no files anywhere in her apartment or office and somebody took her computer.'

'Could have been our guy,' Stevie said.

'Or her own co-workers,' Hyatt said. 'The Laurel detectives said her partner who called 911 was very non-specific about everything. They also talked to the secretary who says she just answered phones and got coffee. Laurel PD thinks they're both lying, but they don't know why. Could be nerves or could be that they're covering up. I'll have Debbie send you their info, Stevie. Check them out. The partner is Clay Maynard and the secretary is Alyssa Moore.'

'Will do.'

'Skinner, what do we have on the big-ass flash freezer?' Hyatt asked.

'Nothing yet,' Detective Skinner said. 'I've got a list of places that have gone out of business in the last few years that might have one. I'll start on those tomorrow.'

'We've spent most of the day on the alibis for the club personnel,' Elizabeth Morton said. 'Unfortunately, only two people don't have alibis for all the murders. Both are women, and Ryan Agar was definitely abducted by a man.'

'Any progress on getting the club's client list from Thorne?' JD asked.

Lucy looked up, a frown on her face. JD shrugged.

'I've got the warrant written,' Daphne said. 'Grayson is reviewing it. I do have news, though. I talked to Russ Bennett's partner. I mentioned the American Medical Association might have some issues with that cheek implant switcheroo. You know, his implanting Bennett with that other guy's cheeks. I told him a little cooperation with me certainly couldn't hurt him if he gets investigated. He was . . . persuaded to give me Bennett's financials for one patient Janet Gordon.'

'And?' JD asked, wishing he could have witnessed Daphne's 'persuasion'.

'Janet got two procedures from Bennett. A facelift and a breast augmentation. She was scheduled for a tummy tuck next month. She didn't pay him a single dime.'

'Bennett did Gordon's surgery for free?' JD asked, astonished.

'That doesn't sound like the Russ Bennett we've heard about,' Stevie said. 'Why?'

'The super said Bennett didn't like her, so it wasn't altruism. Could have been blackmail,' JD said. 'I wonder what Janet knew?'

'Same thing her son knows, I'm betting,' Stevie said.

'It'll be "knew" if we don't figure out who's got him before he ends up slumped over a chess table,' Hyatt said grouchily. 'Drew?'

'We processed prints on the cars parked around the Mercedes where Janet Gordon was found. The prints on Thorne's vehicles belong to him, Dr Trask, and the dead valet. There are at least twenty individual prints on Gwyn Weaver's car. Still processing. So far nothing's popped. Her apartment was also clean.'

'There's a boyfriend,' JD said. 'He's probably one set of prints. I'll get his name.'

'Royce Kendall,' Lucy said and JD passed it on.

'Get him in to give elimination prints,' Hyatt said. 'Fitzpatrick, keep digging. Find out what happened to the Bryan family. Especially the son. Stevie, you take the PI and the secretary. I want to know what they're hiding. Elizabeth, you get the hooker. Find out where she's been and her client list. Somewhere the hooker, the PI and Ileanna intersect. And Skinner, I want that freezer. Yesterday.' He paused. 'And I still want the warrant for Thorne's client list.'

'Why?' Daphne drawled. 'Because Thorne's a prick or because you think one of his clients is guilty?'

'Yes,' Hyatt snapped. 'Both. Just do it. Keep me updated day or night. I want updates from everyone by eleven p.m. and everyone back here at oh-eight tomorrow. Agar's life depends on how fast we move.'

Lucy tapped JD's sleeve. 'Can you ask when I can go back into my apartment?'

He asked and there was murmuring. 'Drew says she can go back tonight,' Hyatt said. 'The suitcase from last night's scene is still being processed, as is her car.'

'I can deal with that. At least I'll have some routine back. Thank you,' Lucy said.

'She says thanks,' JD said. 'Are we done?'

'No,' Stevie said, and something in the slow way she said it had the hair raising on the back of JD's neck. 'Look, this guy has killed five people in Baltimore alone. Seven if we assume Edwards and his wife are victims too, and eight if we don't find Agar in time. I think we need to draw him out.'

'No,' JD said, knowing now where she was going.

'Say more,' Hyatt said and JD ground his teeth.

Lucy turned to study him warily, but said nothing.

'He wants Lucy,' Stevie said. 'We need him to come out of hiding and try to get her.'

'No,' JD said, more forcefully.

'Detective, that's enough,' Hyatt snapped. 'What did you have in mind, Stevie?'

'First, we make sure she's protected at all times. But this guy knows her routine. He has access to personal details. She's going back to her apartment, a part of that routine. Let's make sure she does everything she did before. The morning run, the club, driving herself to work. All of it. JD, we knew right away that this was all about Lucy.'

He glanced at Lucy from the corner of his eye. She'd turned in her seat, her arms crossed over her chest, watching him. 'What?' she asked. 'What do they want?'

'They want to make you bait,' he said flatly and watched her eyes narrow.

'Protected bait,' Stevie insisted.

'I don't like this, Peter,' Daphne said forcefully. 'She's a civilian.'

'She's a state employee,' Hyatt returned. 'Still, it would have to be completely voluntary. We'd provide her with a security detail. What does she say, Fitzpatrick?'

'Protected bait,' JD told her, jaw clenched. 'Hyatt wants to know what you say.'

She nodded once. 'Tell him I say okay.'

'I heard her,' Hyatt said grimly. 'Tell her I said thank you.'

'Tell her she's going to need to wear the bracelet,' Stevie added.

'You have to wear the bracelet,' JD told her and watched her flinch.

But she nodded again. 'Okay.' She straightened in her seat. 'Let's do it.'

'Bring her in,' Hyatt said. 'Drew, get a wire together. We want to know where she is at all times. Now I've got to get ready for the damn press. Meeting adjourned.'

Tuesday, May 4, 5.40 P.M.

Lucy was on the move. He stood on the deck of Trask's boat, shading his eyes to better see the tracking screen on his cell phone. She was about to hit the Bay Bridge. That meant she'd be back in Baltimore in an hour. Ron Trask's boat was fine and the winds were good, so Evan, Sonny and the Trasks should arrive at their destination an hour or two after that.

Then it was Ryan Agar's turn at bat. So to speak. How painful it would be for Ryan would depend on the man himself. Edwards had made it very hard on himself by taking the moral high road and refusing to reveal the list. Hypocrite. Fucking hypocrite.

If Edwards had taken the high road when it really mattered, everything would be different. Ileanna would be alive and my life would have been . . . not shit.

James Cannon had fought back, stupidly. He'd been tied up. And I had a bat. And a knife. Like shooting fish in a barrel, except the fish got the last laugh that day. What was left of Cannon must have made them a nice snack.

Now, Bennett . . . He had to laugh. Bennett had tried to negotiate. Negotiate.

Bennett had nothing that would counterbalance what he'd done, anyway. He did provide information on Lucy, so he was useful. Plus he'd delivered the goods on Janet Gordon and several of the other parents who'd known what had happened including Bennett's own father.

Russ Bennett had thought he could buy his freedom, but he had thought wrong. He'd simply added another few names to the list.

The body slumped at his feet stirred. Westcott was regaining consciousness.

'What?' Westcott moaned. 'What happened?'

'You've been abducted,' he said helpfully.

Westcott made a feeble attempt to roll over, only to find he'd been securely bound. 'What the hell?' he gritted through teeth clenched in what had to be agony.

'You got hit in the head, Sonny.'

'By what?'

'By me. Technically, by my bat. I love hi tech, but often low tech is the best weapon. And the most satisfying.'

'Why?' he moaned.

He squatted next to Westcott so that he could clearly see his face. 'Because you're a stinkin' prick, Sonny, and twenty-one years ago you did a very bad thing.'

Westcott struggled briefly, but gave up, closing his eyes. 'I didn't do anything.'

He stood and delivered a vicious kick to Westcott's ribs, making the man cough convulsively. 'Yeah, you did. I wouldn't recommend trying to convince me otherwise. Your fate is in my hands, just like my sister's fate was in yours. If you piss me off, you'll pay the price. Did you read what happened to Russ Bennett?'

Westcott nodded, a small movement. 'You're going to kill me?'

'Absolutely.' He squatted again, glad to see Westcott coughing up blood. 'See, I know what happened that night. I know what you did.'

'Wait,' Westcott said harshly. 'I'll pay you. I have money.'

Evan remained standing. 'I'm listening.'

'I can get a hundred thousand. But it'll take me a few days.'

'You don't have a few days, Sonny.'

'I'm serious.' Westcott managed to move his head for emphasis, then moaned again. 'I have investments, but I'll have to sell some stock.'

'When we get to where we're going, you can tell me where those investments are. You know, account numbers. Passwords. That kind of thing.'

Westcott slumped. 'I don't know them.'

'You were going to buy me off with stolen money? What kind of sheriff are you?'

'They belong to my mother,' he muttered.

'Oh, now that's just plain mean. Stealing from your mama. Shame on you. Bad, bad sheriff. So, did your mama know?'

'About what?'

'About what you and the others did not do?'

Sonny closed his eyes. 'Have you seen it on CNN?'

Evan almost smiled. If Myrna Westcott had known, she never could have kept it to herself. 'No.'

'Then she didn't know. You killed Ryan Agar's mother. Why?'

'I killed her because she did know. And like you, she did nothing. I tortured her because she profited from my loss. As, I suspect, did you.'

Westcott's eyes flew open. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Yes you do. I was wondering how you got to be sheriff. I kept thinking, Sonny? Really? And then I thought the old sheriff would have a lot of say in who followed him.'

'I got elected.'

'That's not what Ron Trask said. He said you threatened to spill the beans on Buck unless he threw his hat into your ring. You want to ask him? He's in the hold.'

Westcott's eyes flickered wildly. 'You have Trask? Here?'

'And his wife.' He had to chuckle at the panicked expression on Westcott's face. 'You thought Trask could save you? Because he's the only one that knew where you went? That's priceless. Nobody knows where you are or who has you. Nobody's going to do anything to help you. Which is justice, don't you agree?'

Chapter Twenty.

Tuesday, May 4, 5.45 P.M.

Fitzpatrick gripped his steering wheel until his knuckles were white. 'This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Bait. Goddammit.'