She hesitated for a split second, then came clean, too. “So have I.”

So much for just sex and nothing more. Because there was something else here, whether either one of them was ready to admit it out loud or not.

“How’d your evening with Jared go last night?”

He cracked his first real smile of the day. “Great. I took your suggestion and took him to one of those pizza places with the big dancing puppet dudes and the indoor play place. The kid loved it.”

She rolled her eyes. “How have you lived thirty-four years of your life without ever hearing of Chuck E. Cheese?”

“Hard to believe, huh? Anyway, thanks. I was Dad of the Year last night.”

“I’m glad,” she said softly, her smile slowly fading.

His did, too. They’d finished with the personal stuff, the warmth. Now it was back to the cold darkness of the case both of them desperately wanted to solve.

“Working at home today?”

“I tried doing it at the office this morning, but couldn’t get a moment’s peace. Our esteemed mayor has finally heard about what’s going on and has demanded to be part of the investigation into Lisa’s murder.”

Gawking, he could only stare at her.

“I know, it’s ridiculous, and I told him so. He’s an arrogant blowhard, and I guarantee you what he’s most interested in is getting credit and attention once this thing is solved.”

“Politicians.”

“Yeah. Anyway, he informed me that the only reason he wasn’t actively out there searching with ‘his’ deputies was because he and the first lady are going out of town for a day or two. Must be time for her latest face-lift.”

That told him everything he needed to know about Hope Valley’s mayor and his wife. “Hopefully by the time they get back, this will all be over with.”

“Hear, hear.” She quickly got serious again. “So tell me what’s going on. I didn’t expect you back here in the middle of the day. I could hear it in your voice that something else has happened.”

Something had happened, all right. He filled her in quickly and concisely.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Already?”

“Yes. Have you gotten anywhere with the tapes?”

She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, sending it spilling from its loose bun to fall against her cheeks. Beautiful. “My eyes feel like they’re about to fall out and my head is pounding. Considering all the different vantage points of the cameras, it took me all day and long into the night to get through one twelve-hour period at the mall.”

They had a week’s worth of video to go through. This would never work. “We don’t have enough time to go through them all.”

“You have a plan B?”

He had several, starting with conducting more interviews. But they could take one more shot at the surveillance video first. “I might. Show me.”

“In here.” She led him to the kitchen, where she’d set up her laptop. The picture on the screen had been paused in the middle of a shopping day, with harried, bag-laden shoppers and teenage mall rats armed with Daddy’s credit cards filling the screen.

“Let’s tackle this more effectively. I have the victim’s work schedule. Assuming he had an idea of when she would be there and wanted to keep an eye on her, why don’t we focus in on those times first. She worked only four shifts in the week before her death, ranging from four to six hours.”

She scooted a chair around so they could both easily see the screen, then gestured for him to sit. “There are a dozen views of the mall in these files. We could narrow it further and focus on the ones closest to her store. If he went to the trouble of driving up there, he’d want to actually see her, wouldn’t he?”

“One would think.”

“From what I’ve figured out, you can select which camera views to watch and split the screen. Might be quicker if we include three views: the store, the closest mall entrance, and the nearest parking lot. I’ll have a better shot at recognizing someone, obviously, but you can focus on the exteriors and let me know if a lone man is in the frame.”

“You’re good at this,” he said. Too good to be wasting her time in a little town where the biggest crime she ever dealt with was an occasional red-light runner.

And the occasional serial killer.

Spying the half-empty pot of coffee, he rose and poured himself a cup, then topped off her nearly empty one. He had a feeling they were going to need it.

And over the next two hours, as they watched every second of the tapes, he was proved right.

The longer they watched, the more Dean’s irritation built. He tapped his feet on the floor, his fingers on the table. Doing nothing but staring at a computer monitor while a psychopath was preparing to strike again filled him with impotent frustration. Stacey obviously sensed it; she’d grown very quiet, very intent, scooting closer to the screen so she wouldn’t miss it if a mosquito had flown by one of the security cameras.

“Why don’t we take a quick break?” he finally said. He wasn’t used to this kind of inactivity. Sure, he’d conducted stakeouts that had proved boring and fruitless. But this… hell, it felt as if he were napping while a dragon was scooping up his own son.

“No problem. I’m starving.’

“Me, too.”

“Cold leftover pizza okay?”

They’d ordered it Tuesday night. And had barely touched it, not wanting to consume anything but each other. Damn, it seemed like a lifetime ago.

“That’s fine,” he said. He opened his mouth again, about to say how much better he had liked it in bed the other night, when there was a knock on her front door.

Stacey tensed, her eyes shifting in that direction. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

It was the middle of a sunny afternoon in small-town America. Obviously the stress of this case was putting her on edge if the thought of an unexpected visitor had the woman tensing up as though she expected a home invasion. He wished like hell she’d never had to feel that way about the safe haven she’d been clinging to-burying herself in-for the past two years.

“Maybe some kid selling cookies.”

She didn’t relax. Instead, with quiet, measured steps, she approached the door, her head cocked to the side to peer out through the narrow window beside it.

That was when he realized something was really wrong, and remembered the dog. God, no wonder she was edgy. What an idiot he’d been not to think of it immediately. They hadn’t discussed the incident since the other day in the car. With the insanity of the case, he’d let it leave his mind.

“Stacey, wait!” he insisted. “Let me get it.”

She’d already reached for the knob. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s not for me, anyway. It’s for you.”

She opened the door. On the other side of it stood both Mulrooney and Stokes.

He didn’t question how they’d tracked him to Stacey’s home, or how they’d gotten the address. Because they both wore twin dark frowns. Nearly tangible tension caused Mulrooney’s suit jacket to strain against his stiffened shoulders, and Stokes’s jaw appeared carved of granite.

“What is it?”

Mulrooney answered, “They couldn’t do it.”

“Couldn’t do…” The truth dawned. “Oh, hell.”

Beside him, Stacey brought a shaking hand to her mouth as she figured it out, too.

Mulrooney explained anyway. “Lily and Brandon tried, but they couldn’t bring down the site.”

“No.”

“It’s worse.”

He didn’t ask how it could be worse. He already knew. “The auction?”

“Over.”

Over. Mere hours after it had been announced. Not even one week since the last one. The unsub was either insane, desperate, or suicidal. “Meaning we have about twenty-four hours to find this guy and stop him from killing another woman,” he said.

Jackie Stokes shook her head. For the first time in the several weeks he’d known her, she appeared less than entirely professional. Her mouth quivered the tiniest bit.

This was bad. Very bad.