The color slowly drained from her face. "What made me—? Do you think that I—?"

"Never mind," Shane said quickly. "Don't say any more. You shouldn't talk to anyone but your attorney."

Ashley stood there, staring at him. He believed she was guilty. "Why did you come here?"

"Well, I—I hale to do this now, but under—under the circumstances, I—the company—is terminating you. I mean... naturally, we can't afford to be connected with anything like this. It's had enough that the newspapers have already mentioned that you work for Global. You understand, don't you? There's nothing personal in this."

* * *

Driving down to San Jose, David Singer decided what he was going to say to Ashley Patterson. He would find oat what he could from her and then turn the information over to Jesse Quiller, one of the best criminal defense lawyers in the country. If anyone could help Ashley, it was Jesse.

David was ushered into the office of Sheriff Dowling. He handed the sheriff his card. "I'm an attorney. I'm here to see Ashley Patterson and—"

"She's expecting you." David looked at him in surprise. "She is?"

"Yeah." Sheriff Dowling turned to a deputy and nodded.

The deputy said to David, "This way." He led David into the visitors' room, and a few minutes later, Ashley was brought in from her cell.

Ashley Patterson was a complete surprise to David. He had met her once years ago, when he was in law school, chauffeuring her father. She had struck David as being an attractive, intelligent young girl. Now, he found himself looking at a beautiful young woman with frightened eyes. She took a seat across from him. "Hello, Ashley. I'm David Singer."

"My father told me you would be coming." Her voice was shaky.

"I just came to ask a few questions." She nodded.

"Before I do, I want you to know that anything you tell me is privileged. It will just be between the two of us. But I need to know the truth." He hesitated. He had not intended to go this far, but he wanted to be able to give Jesse Quiller all the information he could, to persuade him to take the case. "Did you kill those men?"

"No!" Ashley's voice rang with conviction. "I'm innocent!"

David pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and glanced at it "Were you acquainted with a Jim Cleary?"

"Yes. We—we were going to be married. I would have had no reason to harm Jim. I loved him."

David studied Ashley a moment, then looked at the sheet of paper again. "What about Dennis Tibble?"

"Dennis worked at the company I worked for. I saw him the night he was murdered, but I had nothing to do with that. I was in Chicago." David was watching Ashley's face. "You have to believe me. I—I had no reason to kill him."

David said, "All right." He glanced at the sheet again. "What was your relationship with Jean Claude Parent?"

"The police asked me about him. I had never even heard of him. How could I have killed him when I didn't even know him?" She looked at David pleadingly. "Don't you see? They have the wrong person. They've arrested the wrong person." She began to weep. "I haven't killed anyone."

"Richard Melton?"

"I don't know who he is either."

David waited while Ashley regained control of herself. "What about deputy Blake?"

Ashley shook her head. "Deputy Blake stayed at my apartment that night to watch over me. Someone had been stalking me and threatening me. I slept in my bedroom, and he slept on the couch in the living room. They—they found his body in the alley." Her lips were trembling. "Why would I kill him? He was helping me!"

David was studying Ashley, puzzled. Something's very wrong here, David thought, Either she's telling the truth or she's one hell of an actress. He stood up. "I'll be back. I want to talk to the sheriff." Two minutes later, he was in the sheriff's office. "Well, did you talk to her?" Sheriff Dowling asked. "Yes. I think you've gotten yourself in a box. Sheriff."

"What does that mean. Counselor?"

"It means you might have been too eager to make an arrest Ashley Patterson doesn't even know two of the people you're accusing her of killing."

A small smile touched Sheriff Dowling's lips. "She fooled you, too, hub? She sure as hell fooled us."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'll show you, mister." He opened a file folder on his desk and handed David some papers. "These are copies of coroner's reports, FBI reports, DNA reports and Interpol reports on the five men who were murdered and castrated. Each victim had had sex with a woman before he was murdered. There were vaginal traces and fingerprints at each of the murder scenes. There were supposed to have been three different women involved. Well, the FBI collated all this evidence, and guess what they came up with? The three women turned out to be Ashley Patterson. Her DNA and fingerprints are positive on every one of the murders."

David was staring at him in disbelief. "Are—are you sure?"

"Yeah. Unless you want to believe that Interpol, the FBI and five different coroner's offices are out to frame your client. It's all there, mister. One of the men she killed was my brother-in-law. Ashley Patterson's going to be tried for first-degree murder, and she's going to be convicted. Anything else?"

"Yes." David took a deep breath. "I'd like to see Ashley Patterson again."

They brought her back to the visitors' room. When she walked inside, David asked angrily, "Why did you lie to me?"

"What? I didn't lie to you. I'm innocent. I—"

"They have enough evidence against you to bum you a dozen times over. I told you I wanted the truth."

Ashley looked at him for a full minute, and when she spoke, she said in a quiet voice, "I told you the truth. I have nothing more to say."

Listening to her, David thought. She really believes what she's saying. I'm talking to a nut case. What am I going to tell Jesse Quiller? "Would you talk to a psychiatrist?"

"I don't—Yes. If you want me to."

"I'll arrange it." On his way back to San Francisco, David thought, I kept my end of the bargain. I talked to her. If she really thinks she's telling the truth, then she's crazy. I'll get her to Jesse, who will plead insanity, and that will be the end of it.

His heart went out to Steven Patterson.

At San Francisco Memorial Hospital, Dr. Patterson was receiving the condolences of his fellow doctors.

"It's a damn shame, Steven. You sure don't deserve anything like this...."

"It must be a terrible burden for you. If there's anything I can do..."

"I don't know what gets into kids these days. Ashley always seemed so normal...."

And behind each expression of condolence was the thought: Thank God it's not my kid.

When David returned to the law firm, he hurried in to see Joseph Kincaid.

Kincaid looked up and said, "Well, it's after six o'clock, David, but I waited for you. Did you see Dr. Patterson's daughter?"

"Yes, I did."

"And did you find an attorney to defend her?" David hesitated. "Not yet, Joseph. I'm arranging for a psychiatrist to see her. I'll be going back in the morning to talk to her again."

Joseph Kincaid looked at David, puzzled. "Oh? Frankly, I'm surprised that you're getting this involved. Naturally, we can't have this firm associated with anything as ugly as this trial is going to be."

"I'm not really involved, Joseph. It's just that I owe a great deal to her father. I made him a promise."

"There's nothing in writing, is there?"

"No."

"So it's only a moral obligation?" David studied him a moment, started to say something, then stopped. "Yes. It's only a moral obligation."

"Well, when you're through with Miss Patterson, I come back and we'll talk."

Not a word about the partnership.

When David got home that evening, the apartment was in darkness.

"Sandra?"