6:25 p.m.

It's Barnett." Grace only said out loud what both she and Pakula were thinking. "And he's been in my fucking backyard."

"We don't know that," he insisted.

"Vince special-ordered those pebbles from some landscape place on the West Coast."

"We don't know it's the exact pebbles. They looked like fish-tank rocks to me. Why don't we wait until you get a sample to Darcy and she checks it out?"

"I know it's him."

"There's no reason for him to do this. And there's no reason to try to hide the victim's identity by blasting her teeth to pieces." Pakula leaned against Grace's SUV, his arms crossed. He wasn't buying her theory, or else he was making her work at convincing him.

"Maybe this time it wasn't to destroy evidence or identity. Maybe this time it was simply to thumb his nose at us. You know, let us know it was him."

"He just got out less than two fuckin' weeks ago."

"You said yourself he got away with murder once. Why wouldn't he be feeling invincible?"

"Invincible, maybe, but stupid? I don't think so." He shook his head, but his eyes were still watching the bodies being brought out.

Grace looked at the sky and glanced at her watch. On the drive here she had heard they were in a severe thunderstorm watch. She wanted to pick up Emily before the lightning show. Her little tomboy had recently declared her fear of lightning. And now Grace had created yet another fear…a shadow man.

"So, why even do it?" Pakula asked, bringing her back. "It looks like they didn't even take any cash."

"Start checking out the victims, and I'll bet you'll find some connection."

He looked at her, meeting her eyes and holding them there as if he wasn't pleased with her telling him what to do. Had she nudged him too far? "Isn't that what you're always telling me?" she defended herself.

"It doesn't usually work with random shooting sprees like this."

"Have you been listening to me at all, Pakula? I'm telling you this wasn't random."

"You sure you don't want a black and white checking on you?"

"I'll be fine. Besides, if it is Barnett he's not going to have much time to be following me in the next few days, is he? I'm a little worried about Emily. Vince said something this morning about me looking for a man in the shadows and Emily overheard. Now she's worried about a shadow man watching our house."

"And now you think he might have been watching your house?"

"I don't know. Emily's imaginary friend, Bitsy, saw someone." She meant it as a joke but she could see from Pakula's frown that he didn't get it.

"Her imaginary friend?"

"Oh, yeah, didn't I tell you about that? Ever since we moved in, Emily has had this imaginary friend who seems to be all knowing. You've got four daughters, Pakula, did any of them have imaginary friends?"

"I wish their friends were imaginary. Angle's dating a kid who has so many body piercings he looks like a fucking pincushion." He rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck as if reminded of a tension in his muscles. Grace noticed his eyes, though, were still taking everything in. For a brief moment she wondered how a daughter of Pakula's thought she could get anything by him. And just when she thought his mind had wandered back to the crime scene, he said, "Why the hell would anybody wanna put a hole in his tongue? Wouldn't that kill your taste buds?"

"It's supposed to enhance your sex life."

This time he looked at Grace as if this warranted his full attention. They didn't usually talk about personal stuff, let alone sex. Whatever they knew about each other's family and personal life came in short sound bites and offhanded remarks.

"Thanks a lot," Pakula finally said, but there was no hint of gratitude in his tone, no smile. "That's just what a father wants to hear, that his daughter's new boyfriend is enhancing himself for sex."

Grace laughed. She couldn't help it. Detective Tommy Pakula was one of the toughest men she knew, yet she could easily imagine him worried sick about his daughters.

Ben Hertz was walking toward them, waiting for a police cruiser to pass. He tapped its trunk with the palm of his hand. Grace recognized the gesture. Hertz was always patting backs, punching shoulders and even tapping hoods and trunks in place of saying "good job." He waved a piece of paper at Pakula as he joined them.

"You're gonna love this. Plates are registered to a Dr. Leon Matese. But it's not a dark blue Saturn. It's a black BMW. And Dr. Matese has been in L. A. since last Tuesday."

"Let me guess," Pakula interrupted him. "His car's been parked at the airport."

"Yep, long-term parking lot. And the Saturn-"

"Stolen," Pakula finished.

"You got it. These boys did some planning. But a Sarpy County deputy sheriff's in pursuit south on 50."