She handed him his food. "Let me guess. Linebacker?"

"Tight end. But that was a long time ago."

They ate in silence, then Mia folded her wrapper. "So what happened?"

He eyed her over the last bite of his hot dog. "None of your business."

She laughed. "Touche, Solliday. Give me your trash, I'll throw it away." When she climbed back in the cab, he was pocketing his cell phone. "Emergency?"

"No. I just needed to call home."

Mia sighed. "I'm sorry again. You have a family to get home to."

"My hours are as flexible as yours. I have somebody to take care of Beth when I have to work at night. Take something for your shoulder."

So there was no Mrs. Solliday. The sudden thump of her heart was merely interest, Mia told herself, not relief. She popped a few pain relievers, wondering what had happened to his wife, but stopped herself from asking. "So where are we going now?"

"Greek Row."

It would be a while before they got there. "Can I look at your notes again?"

He handed her his notebook. "So what nice thing did you do for Carmichael?"

"Somebody close to her was murdered last year. Abe and I were primary. She was pretty hysterical and I stayed with her until she'd gotten through the worst of it. It was no more than I'd do for any victim's family."

"Obviously more than she expected."

"I guess. Anyway, I've become her personal news source. Every time I turn around that girl is there. But she gave me DuPree. If I get Getts, she'll be on my Christmas list forever." She scanned his notes. "Was the bed made in the spare bedroom?"

He looked surprised. "Yes, why?"

"When I was in school, I studied at the kitchen table. I don't think I would have used somebody else's bedroom, for sure. What was Caitlin doing studying up there?"

"Maybe she got sleepy."

"That's why I asked about the bed. But she could have slept on the couch. Sleeping in somebody else's bed, especially when you've expressly been told not to live in… That's just…" She searched for the word. "Cheeky."

His lips twitched. "Cheeky?"

She shook her head with a smile. "Don't laugh at my adjectives. It's like she was playing Goldilocks, studying and sleeping where she wasn't invited."

"There was a desk in the bedroom. With a computer."

"Ah. We should have it taken in. Check for e-mails and web surfing."

"1 talked to Ben when you were processing DuPree. He said Unger took the computer this afternoon. They'll try to check for e-mails, et cetera, before morning."

"Okay. So walk with me. Caitlin's studying or surfing the web or something. She hears something, comes downstairs and he's there. They struggle in the foyer. Maybe he rapes her. At some point he shoots her. But he doesn't burn her to utterly destroy her. Unless he thought she'd be burnt to ash and he's just a novice. Are we dealing with a novice?"

"I don't know. He had the solid accelerant device down just right. But I've been thinking about the sheer spectacle of the explosion__He went to a lot of trouble to be noticed.

That seems immature, almost childish. But his method was sophisticated. I'd be surprised if he hasn't done it before." He hesitated. "Or if he doesn't do it again."

"Are we talking serial arsonist?"

"It's crossed my mind," he admitted. "His MO was so well planned. So grandiose. I can see him thinking it would be a shame to only use it once."

"Shit. So all we really have is a dead girl and some pieces of a plastic egg."

"And a shoe print. Ben says the lab said it's a size ten, by the way."

"Which makes him no different than thousands of guys in Chicago," she grumbled. "So unless we find something new or he strikes again, we're dead in the water."

"Unless we're wrong and somebody went to the Doughertys' with the express intention of killing Caitlin. Then her sorority sisters may be some help."

"One can only hope," she muttered.

Monday, November 27, 6:00 p.m.

"Oh my God." Judy Walters rocked herself on the edge of her bed.

Mitchell was crouching next to Caitlin's roommate, looking up into her face. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "But I need you to pull yourself together, Judy. I have some questions and you have to help me. Stop crying now."

Her gentle tone softened the implacable demand and had the girl struggling to control her tears. "I'm sorry. Who would shoot her? Who would do that?"

Mitchell sat on the bed next to Judy. "When was the last time you saw Caitlin?"

"Saturday… about seven at night. We had a party and it got loud. I thought she was going to Joel's apartment for the weekend." She looked stricken. "Oh, God. I have to tell him." She tried to get up, but Mitchell laid her hand on her knee.

"Not yet. Caitlin's father said she'd broken up with Joel."

"She just told them she did so they'd get off her back. Her dad didn't like Joel."

"Why not?" Reed asked and was surprised to see the girl's wet eyes flash in anger.

"Because her dad's a control freak cop. He was always telling Caitlin what to do."

Something flickered in Mitchell's eyes, but was quickly controlled. Her dad had been a cop. Reed wondered how much she and Caitlin had in common. "Did she spend the weekend with Joel very often?" Reed asked.

"Yes. But there's no way Joel did this. He loves her."

"Judy, do you remember what Caitlin was wearing that night?"

"Jeans, a sweater. It was red." She started crying. "I gave it to her."

Mitchell patted her shoulder. "We'll see ourselves out." When they'd reached the SUV she spoke. "Did you find any metal rivets or snaps from her jeans near the body?"

Reed opened the door on her side. "Ben said they found metal buttons in the foyer."

She climbed into the cab. then turned, her eyes grim. "Then he raped her, too."

"What next?" he asked.

"Let's go find out how much Joel loved her."

Monday, November 27, 6:40 P.M.

Joel Rebinowitz's roommate was pre-law and proud. Zach Thornton stood between Mia and Solliday and the bathroom door, through which came the sounds of Joel's sobbing. "He's not going to say another word to you without a lawyer," Zach snarled.

Mia sighed. "God save us from baby attorneys. Look, kid, move yourself out of the way, or I'll haul your ass in for obstruction."

"You can't do that," he said belligerently.

"Wanna bet?" Zach's belligerence faltered. "I didn't think so." She rapped on the door. "Joel, come out. We need to talk to you and we're not leaving until we do."

"Go away, dammit." Joel's voice was ragged. "Leave me alone."

Mia looked at Solliday. "You want to go in after him?"

Solliday grimaced. "Not really. But I will."

Thornton changed tactics, his expression gone drastically sincere. "You just told him his girlfriend is dead. Burned beyond recognition. What do you want from him?"

"The truth," Mia responded. "Joel, five seconds or my partner comes in after you."

Joel staggered out of the bath room, his face pale and his eyes swollen from crying. "I'm not talking to you and I'm not going downtown with you."

Zach nodded, back to smug. "You want him, get a warrant."

"Joel, help us clear you so we can focus on the real bad guys."

"The real killer," Zach jeered. "Right."

Mia lifted on her toes, putting herself inches from Thornton's face. "Shut. Up. Or I swear to God you will spend the night in a cell. I am not bluffing. I have had enough of you. Sit down and shut up or you'll find yourself surrounded by bullies named Bubba who want to be your best buddy, if you know what 1 mean."

Solliday whistled softly. "It isn't often they get pretty boys tossed into their cage."