“Oh, trust me, so would I.” She shook her head slowly. “I have no intentions of ending up in one of his cocoons.”

Beck looked at his watch. It was after midnight already.

“It’s late. I need to get home and get some sleep so I can do it all again tomorrow.” He stood and extended a hand to her. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your cabin.”

“That’s okay. I can walk twenty-five feet by myself.”

“I don’t doubt it. But I want to be able to leave here and know for certain that I’ll be seeing you in the morning.”

She held up the bottle.

“You afraid I’ll polish this off by myself, wake up with a hangover, and be unfit to report in tomorrow?”

“No. I’m afraid I might not be the only person who knows where you’re staying tonight.”

“You mean the killer-”

“You stirred him up, Mia. He may not be able to resist.”

She gathered her things and stood.

“I admit I’m tired. I might as well turn in.”

They walked across the grass to her cabin.

“Did you lock it?” he asked when they reached the door.

“Of course.” She hoisted her bag up higher on her shoulder and dug in her pocket for the key, then unlocked the door. The lights were all still on, just as she had left them. “See? All’s well.”

“Good. Lock the door behind me, then get some sleep. We have miles to go with this case.”

“Agreed. I’ll see you in the morning.” She closed the door halfway. “Thanks, Beck.”

“Any time.”

Mia closed the door and turned off the outside light, then went into the bathroom and caught her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and her eyes were slightly rimmed in red. She stared at herself for a long time before going into the sitting room to find the bottle and the glass.

Returning to the bathroom, she rinsed out the glass, poured what remained of the bottle into the sink, and turned off the light.

Beck stood in the shadows until the only light still visible in the cabin was in the small back room. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked across the grass to the chair in which she’d been sitting and turned it around to face her cabin.

Mia would have a fit if she knew he was there, but he couldn’t walk away knowing she might have set herself up. He knew she was strong and he knew she was capable-and armed. But there was also a chance her reflexes were impaired, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d painted a target on her back. He wasn’t about to let anyone take aim on his watch.

He stretched his long legs out in front of him and eased back into the chair. Overhead the moon was full, and off in the distance a dog barked. He made himself as comfortable as he could in the wooden chair and waited for the sun to rise.

18

Mia poked her head into Beck’s office at eight the next morning.

“Hey, I have some good news,” she told him excitedly. “There was a message on my phone from JoJo.”

“JoJo?” He frowned. Who the hell was JoJo?

“FBI JoJo who works magic with damaged tapes?” Mia sat in the chair closest to the door. “We sent her the tape that was found with the body we believe belongs to Holly Sheridan?”

“Right. JoJo.” He suppressed a yawn. “Got a thing for one of your brothers.”

“Andy, yeah. Anyway, JoJo couldn’t restore all of it, but she’s made a copy of what she has, and overnighted it to us. We should have it in a few hours.” Mia leaned forward. “Beck, she said he called the woman Holly on the tape.”

“Pretty much what we expected.”

“She said it was really gruesome, what she could hear.”

“I’m sure it was. The whole damned thing has been gruesome.” He snapped. “It isn’t likely to get any better.”

“Sounds like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

“You could say that.” He rested an elbow on the edge of the desk.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine. Let me know when you get that tape.”

“Sure.” Feeling as if she’d been dismissed, Mia gave Beck a mock salute and went into the conference room where she’d set up a temporary office.

She’d just hung up the phone from a conference call with the agents who were tracking down the 2000 and 2001 victims when Lisa Singer stuck her head through the doorway. She wore what was apparently her summer uniform: khaki walking shorts accessorized by a holster attached to the front of her belt, and a short-sleeved shirt. Large round tortoise shell sunglasses sat atop her head.

“Morning, Agent Shields,” she said.

“Hi, Lisa. Please, call me Mia. How was your weekend?” Mia asked, then laughed. “Oh. Right. What weekend?”

“Probably as much of one as we’re likely to get until this is over.” Apparently encouraged by Mia’s friendliness, the sergeant came into the room carrying her coffee and a fistful of pink phone messages. “Have you handled a lot of cases like this before?”

“You mean serial killers?”

Lisa nodded.

“More than my share.”

“It’s so hard to understand how someone could be so horrible. So without a soul.” Lisa shivered. “Do you ever get used to it?”

“If I did, it would be time to retire.”

“Everyone in town is so jumpy about this, especially after last night’s meeting.” Lisa leaned on the back of one of the chairs.

“Everyone should be jumpy. We don’t even have a lead on this guy.”

“Well, I did have a thought. I was just on my way in to talk to Beck about it.” She tucked a stand of hair behind her ear.

“Run it past me, too?”

“All of these victims have been young, you know? So I was trying to think of places around here where young people hang out.” She grinned. “It wasn’t that hard. There aren’t many.”

“But you thought of one.”

“Maybe. There’s a new gym out on the highway, in that shopping center? You don’t have to buy a membership to work out there. You can pay by the visit, if you want. Chief Daley says one of his men spoke with them about Colleen Preston. She was a member. Mindy Kenneher was not and neither was Holly Sheridan-I checked-but they could have worked out there from time to time. I’m going to drive out there with their photos and see if anyone recognizes either of them.”

“Great idea.” Mia nodded. “Just make sure you don’t put Chief Meyer’s nose out of joint while you’re at it.”

“God forbid.” Lisa rolled her eyes. “A couple of store fronts down from the gym, there’s one of those gourmet coffee places. It seems to be a pretty popular place. I’m going to run in there, too, see if anyone remembers any one of the victims coming in, and if so, if they were with anyone.”

“You ever think about the FBI, Lisa?” Mia leaned back in her chair and smiled. “We could use a few more like you.”

“To tell you the truth, I used to dream about being in the FBI,” Lisa admitted.

“What stopped you?”

“Oh, life. You know how things go.” Lisa shrugged. “After college, I went through the police academy and did pretty well, got a job here, that was when Hal was still chief. I actually did apply to the FBI, though, back in the nineties. But then I met Todd, and, well, you know how it is. He was my dream man. I fell-he fell-we got married three months later.”

“You met him here in St. Dennis?”

“No, we met in Chestertown. He had a fraternity brother who lived there. We ended up in St. Dennis because he used to summer here as a little boy and inherited some property from a relative. But don’t think I’m complaining, I have no regrets. I’ve been happy here, I love my job. Loved working for Hal, and I love working for Beck. Love my family.”

“That’s great.” Mia smiled again. “Great that you’re happy with the choices you made.”

Lisa smiled back. “I definitely am. I have a great husband, great kids, a great job. When I wanted to come back to work after the kids were born, Hal let me start back part-time on dispatch. When I was ready to go back out on the street, they hired Garland. Hal was great to work for, Beck is, too. He keeps pushing me ahead, you know? Encourages me to take courses, and any time there’s some special extra class, he sends me. Someday, St. Dennis will be in a position to hire it’s first detective, and I want it to be me.”