“Companies are willing to be serviced by a cleaning crew of former inmates?” Waters asked.

“I don't know how much the companies know. You heard Mr. Sperm Bank. Their contract is with Korporate Klean. Korporate Klean takes care of staffing.”

“Oh great,” Griffin muttered darkly. “So when we ask them for a list of employees with past records, that's going to be their entire damn company.”

“Yeah, but not everyone's cleaning the sperm bank.”

Griffin's cell phone rang. He snatched it up as the elevator hit ground floor and dumped them into the lobby. “Griffin.”

“You saw the news?” Lieutenant Morelli asked.

“I listened to the radio.”

“Sergeant, we'd like you to return to headquarters-”

“We're onto him, Lieutenant. According to Tawnya, Eddie made several donations to a local sperm bank, which just happens to be serviced by a cleaning company comprised of ex-cons. We're on our way to Korporate Klean as we speak. One hour, two hours, we're going to have the perp's name.”

“Sergeant, in light of David Price's involvement…”

“I'm fine, Lieutenant.”

“We appreciate your efforts, and we think it would be best-”

Griffin thrust out his phone to Waters. “Tell the Lieutenant I'm fine.” He probably shouldn't have growled when he said that. Waters took the phone while Griffin rolled out his neck.

“Afternoon, Lieutenant. Uh huh, uh huh. Yeah. Uh huh.”

Waters handed the phone back to Griffin. “She doesn't like you much.”

“I'm telling you, I gotta try a new cologne.” Griffin tucked his phone against his ear and opened the door to his car. “Lieutenant, we're going to get him. Before six o'clock, and without David Price. We're going to nail the son of a bitch.”

And Lieutenant Morelli said quietly, “We're making plans for a three-hour release.”

“What?”

“Target time is six P.M. We're working hand in hand with the department of corrections, the state marshals and SWAT. I'll be leading the team.”

“Lieutenant, don't do it. It's what he wants. Don't do it!”

“Do you think I can't handle the team, Sergeant?”

“It's not about you,” Griffin said, closing his eyes. “It's not about me. It's about David Price. Listen, the rapes started over a year ago. Think about that. That means Price has been in on this for over twelve months, twelve months of thinking, planning and scheming for this day. He's got another agenda. And he's had ample opportunity to get it into play.”

“Do you think I can't handle the team, Sergeant?”

“The Pesaturos will never allow it,” he tried again, more desperate now. “They're not about to have their five-year-old granddaughter serve as bait.”

“The Pesaturos have personally requested the meeting. It was their call to the superintendent, not the other hundreds of calls,” the lieutenant added dryly, “which influenced the final decision.”

“What? How? Why?”

“They found a note in their mail. If David Price doesn't see Molly, they don't get to see Meg. The note came with a picture. Do you understand now how serious this situation has become?”

“He's covering all the bases,” Griffin murmured. “If the public outcry isn't enough, pressure from the victim's parents will definitely get the job done. Oh, and now we can't hurt him either. You can position all the snipers you want at this meeting, but none of them can take a shot. Something happens to David at any time, and we lose Meg. Think about that, Lieutenant. He has already set up a human shield, without the human even being present. It's fucking brilliant. That's what one year of planning can do.”

The lieutenant didn't say anything right away, so she probably agreed. Sometimes, even when you knew you were being manipulated, you couldn't avoid it.

“It's three P.M. now,” Morelli said quietly. “I'm starting preparations for the cover team as we speak.” And then, even more quietly, “Griffin… we know who we're dealing with. I know who we're dealing with. I'm getting the best people, I'm demanding the tightest security. I don't want Price out of prison any more than you do. But if it does happen, if it comes to that, I'll make sure it goes down right.”

“We're going to get the man's name,” Griffin said.

“I look forward to that call. And Sergeant-if you find the College Hill Rapist first, remember what you've spent the last year learning. Remember, we still need Meg.”

Chapter 39

THE MAN ENTERED THE BASEMENT. MEG HEARD THE protesting groan of the old wooden stairs, then his out-of-tune humming. He'd paid her a visit earlier. Skipped down the steps, told her to smile and turned on a bright light right before she heard the whir of an instant camera. She'd still been tilting her head up, trying to peer beneath the bottom edge of her blindfold, when he had summarily clicked the light back off and thumped back up the stairs. She was left alone in the endless dark, her arms pulled painfully over her head, the muscles in her rib cage beginning to protest.

Now she heard him approach once again and unconsciously shrank back against the concrete wall, as if that would save her.

“How is pretty, pretty Meg?” the man whispered. He cupped her cheek. She turned her head and he chuckled, running his fingers down her throat, dipping them beneath the collar of her shirt. “My, my, you've been working up a bit of a sweat.”

With the latex gag cutting into her mouth, she couldn't say anything and didn't bother to try.

“Tsk, tsk,” the man scolded, “I don't think David's going to like that much. Maybe before he comes, I should give you a bath. You, bound and naked in a tub. I haven't tried that before. I think I might like it.”

His hands were inside her shirt, on her lace-covered breasts. He didn't squeeze, didn't stroke. Just let his hands rest on her chest as if to prove his point-he held the power to do anything he wanted to her body. And there was nothing she could do to stop him.

“Well,” the man said briskly, “I have one last chore to attend to. A little present for David, one not even he's expecting. Should be lots of fun for everyone, especially me. Wish me luck, dear. If all goes as planned, I should have a few moments to come back and play.”

Now his fingers did move. She pressed her cheek against the dank wall. She did her best not to vomit.

The man chuckled. “See you soon, Meg.” He kissed her on the neck. Then he resumed his toneless humming as he ascended the stairs.

The moment she heard the door click shut, Meg released her pent-up breath. She sagged against the hard-packed dirt floor, her legs trembling, her arms screaming with savage pain. She cried a little, but her tears were short-lived. He hadn't given her any water since her kidnapping, and she couldn't afford the loss of moisture.

She sniffled, she took a deep breath and then she tilted her head up toward a wall anchor she couldn't see. When she pulled forward, nothing happened. But as she'd twisted away from the man's fingers, she was sure she had detected the slightest wobble. If the anchor moved a little now, then maybe, over time, it would move a lot.

It wasn't much, but it was all she had. Meg, the human pendulum.

David Price was coming. David Price was coming. Meg started swaying.

Lieutenant Morelli sat in the living room of the Pesaturo home. Toppi had whisked Molly upstairs the moment the lieutenant had arrived. Now Lieutenant Morelli spread out a map on the living room floor and went straight to business. She gazed at Tom, Laurie, Jillian and Libby somberly. She told them, “This is what we're going to do. We want the meeting in public, so we can properly monitor it, but we also want it semiprivate to reduce the risk of pedestrian interference.”