She went into the kitchen for a second cup of coffee and to find out why Dillon had stopped by.

“You make great coffee, sis,” Dillon said, taking a sip. “Too bad it doesn’t extend to your cooking.”

“Tirón,” she mumbled. Jerk.

Dillon grinned.

“Did you stop by just to annoy me?”

“I had breakfast with Mom and Dad and thought I’d stop by and tell you Andrew and I are petitioning Judge DuBois at noon to obtain a warrant for IP addresses that match the ones on the MyJournal list.”

“DuBois? That’s good. She’ll give it to you-wait! Are you saying Patrick had a breakthrough? Why didn’t he call me?”

“Not yet, but he’s close and didn’t want to have to drag a judge out in the middle of the night. He called me because I’m going at it from a psychiatric angle-that the killer is going to strike again based on what we know, and that obtaining the private information of citizens who may not be involved in order to learn the identity of the killer is essential to protecting the public, yada yada. DuBois will give it to us, but we have to jump through the right hoops. If we get the warrant thrown out after an arrest, I don’t have to tell you how screwed we are. We’ll get the warrant, then it’s all up to Patrick.”

“I owe him one. He’s been pulling all-nighters for me.”

Dillon drained his coffee and put the mug in the sink. “I saw Sheriff Thomas over at the house. I’m surprised he’s stayed on.”

“Why?”

“He’s a sheriff, for one. He has a busy job.”

What was she supposed to say? She’d been wondering about the same thing just this morning.

“Have you noticed any physical limitations?”

“You mean his knees.”

Dillon nodded. “You know he had surgery.”

“He told me.”

“Be careful. He’s not Will.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Will has your back, and he’s capable of covering it. Sheriff Thomas isn’t even officially involved in the case, and he’s not your partner.”

“I think you’re worrying about nothing.”

“I hope.”

“What’s all this dumping on Nick?” She put her own mug in the sink. “I get a call from Jim and he’s all uppity about him.”

“Jim’s jealous.”

“He has nothing to be jealous about. We broke up over a year ago.”

“It’s a guy thing.”

“Guy thing. Right.” She took a brush from her purse and pulled it through her hair. “Nick has been an asset on this case. You said so yourself.”

“I agree. He has a sharp mind. He has a theory about the killer that I think is right on the money.”

“Why’d he share it with you and not me?”

“Because I was there and we were bouncing ideas back and forth. I hadn’t intended to talk about the case. He thinks the killer planned to kidnap Jodi on Wednesday night, after he planted the webcam in her kitchen, but she didn’t drink the drugged beverages. He grew angry and grabbed someone else.”

“Becca. Wrong place wrong time?”

“More like he knew her or had seen her and she was easy to subdue.”

“But that makes a connection between him and Becca, if they were in proximity.”

“Exactly. The library. And thinking about it, I think Nick is right.”

“Why?” But already Carina was putting together the pieces.

“Because the killer is immature. He was angry that Jodi messed up his plan. Ruined his fantasy. He had to take a woman that night. He had it all thought out. Probably had all the supplies on hand. Becca was there, she was nice to him, he waited for her.”

“It makes sense. Doesn’t help with figuring out who’s next.”

“Chief Causey said you have a twenty-four/seven watch on Abby and Kayla.”

“If his plan was Jodi all along, and Becca was just convenient, then Abby and Kayla could very well be in danger.”

“I agree. I also think he has other women he’s stalking. Probably connected with where he goes to school or where he works.”

“I have an undercover cop at the library during the hours he is most likely to be there, but now I’ll put one on-site full-time.”

“Good.”

Carina glanced at her watch. “Jodi Carmichael’s autopsy is in an hour. I have to pick up Nick and head over there. Do you want to observe?”

“At the beginning, then I need to meet Andrew at the courthouse. By the way, I like him,” said Dillon.

“Him who? Andrew?” She scrunched up her nose. Though she respected her former brother-in-law as the district attorney, she and her brothers had never liked him.

“The sheriff.”

“You were just lecturing me about what he was doing hanging around the case.”

“Hmm, not quite. I was just curious, mostly.”

Carina playfully hit him.

“Seriously, I like him. He’s one of the good guys.”

Carina shook her head. “Get out of here so I can lock up. I’ll meet you at the morgue.” She didn’t know what to make of Dillon’s pronouncement, but decided not to look too deeply at it. It made her feel, well, like a teenager again when Dillon put his stamp of approval on her boyfriends.

But she was secretly pleased. Dillon’s instincts about the men in her life were usually accurate.

It took less than two minutes to back out of her garage and drive the block to her parents’ house. She ran up the stairs to the garage apartment and pounded on the door. “Hey Nick! You decent?”

No answer.

She ran back down the stairs and through the side door into the kitchen. Nick was standing at the sink rinsing dishes and loading the dishwasher. Nick was a big guy, broader than her dad, built more like her brother Connor, the PI. He looked strange in her mother’s kitchen, but at the same time oddly domestic, almost like he fit.

She shook her head. It was all Dillon’s fault, coming into her house telling her he liked Nick. What was with that? She knew better than to get involved with cops. No matter how sexy they looked doing dishes. Especially since he would be going back to Montana, and that would be that.

But it wasn’t like he worked in the San Diego Police Department, so technically he wasn’t a colleague, so she wouldn’t be breaking her rule.

That’s it. She had to do something to stop thinking about Nick carnally. Right now she was thinking about him doing the dishes naked. Now that was sexy. A man doing the dishes was one thing, doing them sans clothing was just plain fun.

She really needed to get him out of her system.

“Cara, darling.” Her mom came out of the walk-in pantry, a smile on her round face. “Let me get the fruit salad from the refrigerator. Do you want some toast?”

Carina jumped, blushed. Had she ever blushed before? She didn’t think so. But her mom had caught her thinking about sex, and Carina was positive her mother could read minds.

“No, Mama, I’m fine. Really.”

Her mother stared at her closely, eyes narrow. Carina put on a blank face and pushed all thoughts of Nick’s naked body from her mind. “What did you eat this morning? You don’t eat breakfast, so don’t lie to me.”

Food. Her mom’s favorite pastime was feeding her, so maybe she hadn’t seen the lust on her face. “I had coffee.”

“Pshaw! Coffee!”

She opened the refrigerator. Carina glanced at Nick, who’d finished with the dishes. He was grinning, trying to suppress a laugh. For the first time, she saw him relaxed. She wasn’t surprised; her mother had that effect on people.

She caught Nick’s eye, wrinkled her nose at him.

“Mama, we have to go. Duty calls.”

“How can you do anything on an empty stomach?”

“I promise, I’ll have a good lunch.”

“No come bien, míja. Solamente trabája, trabája, trabája. ¡Madre de Dios! ¿Como te ayuda?”

“Mama, stop that.” Carina turned to Nick. “She said I never eat.”

“I know.”

“You speak Spanish?”

“Some. Enough to get by.”

Her mother smiled broadly. “I knew I liked Nicholas the moment he walked into my home.”

“Mama, we have work.”