Who loves what he sees, but hates what he loves?Who, who? Slater. Slater was who. Despite Jennifer’s theory, Kevin had to be Slater. If so, Slater was the hater of the two.

She sighed. Something common to all three of them triggered this riddle. But what? She had only two hours to win this mad game. And even if she did find them, Slater surely wouldn’t let them all go.

Someone would die in the next two hours. Kevin had saved her from the killer once; he’d risked his life. Now it was her turn.

6:59. And this riddle was only the first clue.

She mumbled through gritted teeth. “Come on, Kevin! Tell me something.”

“Then Slater’s the boy, stalking Sam, but he’s really Kevin’s evil alter ego,” Jennifer said.

“And Kevin doesn’t like the evil boy, so he kills him,” the professor said.

“But isn’t that evil? To kill?”

“God killed a few men in their time. Read the Old Testament. Kevin tries to kill the boy because the boy threatens to kill his childhood friend.”

“But the boy is really Kevin. So Kevin would have killed Samantha if he hadn’t dealt with the boy?”

“Think of it—a personality that embodies only evil would be quite a little monster. Slater, the evil in Kevin, sees that Samantha favored Kevin over him. Slater decides he must kill Sam.”

“And now that monster has come back to life and is stalking Kevin,” Jennifer said. “In this scenario of yours.”

“That monster never died. That would require more than Kevin was capable of on his own. Death to the old self.” Dr. Francis paused and then continued. “As Kevin matured, he recognized Balinda’s folly, but he didn’t recognize his dual nature. He did, however, successfully climb out of his past, leave the house, and embrace the real world.”

“Until three months of seminary and discussions of his one obsession, the natures of man, finally brings Slater back to the surface,” Jennifer finished.

The professor lifted an eyebrow. “It’s possible.”

As a clinical theory the possibilities were interesting, but Jennifer was having difficulty accepting it as reality. Theories abounded in the study of the mind, a new one every month, it seemed. This was a theory. And time was still ticking away, while the real Kevin possibly sat at the real Slater’s gunpoint, praying desperately for someone to burst through the doors and save him.

“But why the game? Why the riddles?”

“I don’t know.” His eyes glimmered mischievously. “Perhaps the whole thing was really Kevin’s idea.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Evil only survives in the dark. This isn’t religious either, by the way. The simplest way to deal with evil is to force it into the light of truth. Expose its secret. Sun on the vampire. Sin thrives in the dungeon, but slap it on the table for all to see, and it withers rather quickly. It was one of Kevin’s greatest complaints about the church, actually. That everyone hides their evil. Their sin. Pastors, deacons, bishops—they perpetuate the very nature they are in business to destroy by covering it up. No confession allowed except in secret.”

“Now you sound like a skeptic.”

“I’m a skeptic of religious systems, not of the faith. Someday I will be happy to discuss the difference with you.”

“How does this make the riddles Kevin’s idea?”

“Perhaps subconsciously Kevin knows that Slater still lurks. What better way to destroy him than to expose him? Kevin could be forcing Slater’s hand, forcing him to reveal himself. Ha! I’m telling you, Kevin is genuine enough to conceive of just such a plan! Slater thinks he has Kevin where he wants him by forcing a confession, when it’s the very confession that will destroy Slater, not Kevin! It’s like the cross all over again.”

Jennifer rubbed her temples. “I can just hear the court case now. This all assumes Slater isn’t framing Kevin.”

“Yes. But either way, we’ve pieced together his framework. At least the logic of it.” Dr. Francis sat and faced her with his fingers touching each other in a tepee. “My goodness. You came here to find out who Kevin really is. I think I’ve just stumbled on it, my dear.”

“Tell me, who is Kevin?”

“Kevin is every man. And woman. He is you; he is me; he is the woman who wears a yellow hat and sits on the third pew every Sunday. Kevin is the natures of humanity personified.”

“Please, you can’t mean that everyone’s a Slater.”

“No, only those who do as Slater does. Only those who hate. Do you hate, Jennifer? Do you gossip?”

Who loves what he sees, but hates what he loves?The simplicity of it hit Sam midstride, as she paced Kevin’s living room, staring at the travel posters. The windows to the world. It wasn’t who;it was the seeing!Who had seen?Slater had seen her and wanted her. But where had he seen her?

The window. Her window! The boy Slater had watched her from the window and seen what he desperately wanted but could not have. And he hated her.

The answer to the riddle was her window!

Sam stood still, stunned, then ran for her car. She fired the engine and roared down the street. 7:23.

Sam punched in Jennifer’s cell number.

“This is—”

“I think I have it! I’m on my way now.”

“What is it?” Jennifer demanded.

Sam hesitated. “This is for me—”

“Just tell me where, for heaven’s sake! I know it’s for you, but time’s running out here!”

“The window.”

“Kevin’s window?”

“My window. That’s where Slater saw me. That’s where he hated me.” She glanced in her rearview mirror. Clear. “I need more time, Jennifer. If Slater even gets a whiff of anyone else snooping around this, he may pull the trigger. You know that.”

No response.

“Please, Jennifer, there’s no other way.”

“We could have a dozen of the best minds on this.”

“Then get them on it. But no one from the investigation and, without question, no locals. We can’t risk a leak. Besides, no one’s going to know these riddles like I do. This is about me now.”

Silence.

“Jennifer—”

“Just hurry, Samantha.”

“I’m doing sixty in a thirty-five as it is.” She hung up.

Hold on, Kevin. Please don’t do anything stupid. Wait for me. I’m coming. I swear I’m coming.

26

Monday

7:25 P.M.

WHETHER THE BOY WAS IMAGINARY OR REAL, he knew Sam and he wants her to come,” Dr. Francis said as Jennifer closed her phone. “He’s luring her in. You see that, don’t you? The riddles are only to continue the game.”

Jennifer sighed. “And if Sam finds them? He’ll kill them all and I’ll have done nothing.”

“What can you do?”

“Something. Anything! If I can’t save him, then I should report this.”

“Then report it. But what can any of your colleagues do?”

He was right, of course, but the idea of sitting here in his living room discussing the natures of man was . . . impossible! Roy had been killed in similar circumstances by the Riddle Killer. True, Slater probably wasn’t the same man who’d killed Roy, but he represented the same kind of man. Unless Kevin was Slater.

Did Slater live in her? Do you hate, Jennifer? Milton?

“Perhaps the most you can do is try to understand, so that if an opportunity does come, you’re better equipped,” the professor said. “I know how frustrating it must be, but now it’s up to Sam. She sounds like someone who can handle herself. If I’m right, Kevin will need her.”

“How so?”

“If Kevin is Slater, he’ll be powerless to overcome Slater on his own.”

Jennifer looked at him and wondered what movies he watched.

“Okay, Professor. We still don’t know if Kevin is Slater or not. Theories are fine, but let’s try the logistics on for size.” She pulled out her notebook and crossed her legs. “Question: From a purely logistical and evidentiary perspective, could one person have done what we know to have happened?”