“That so? And what makes you so certain?”

“Dick Danson’s alive. He-”

“Who?”

“Leo’s former partner. He and Leo parted acrimoniously. Supposedly, he committed suicide last year.”

“Ran off a cliff in Carmel, California. It’s all coming back to me. That’s why you were out there. Your hunch.”

“Yes.”

“I thought that hunch had turned out to be gas.”

Quickly, she explained about the suicide and the fact that Danson was identified by his dental records.

“Proof enough for me,” he said, glancing pointedly at his watch.

“Me, too. Until this morning when I found out the dentist who provided those records was murdered not that long after.” She paused. “His killer was never caught.”

For the space of a heartbeat, she thought she had him. Then taking her by the elbow, he led her farther from the other officer. “Ran a little financial check on your buddy Leo Noble. Seems business is good. Very good. Recently did a couple licensing deals. Worth millions, Stacy. Millions.”

“So? What does that have to do with-”

“Kay gets half. Of everything. Past. Present. And future.”

She stared at him, understanding. Greed. One of the oldest motives for murder.

She shook her head. “He loves her. She’s the mother of his child and his best friend.” Even as she said the words, she acknowledged how naive she sounded.

She pressed on, anyway. “There wasn’t a message from the White Rabbit on this one, was there?” She could tell by his expression that there wasn’t. “No message. No body. Doesn’t fit the White Rabbit MO.”

“All the victims had ties to Leo. He was the recipient of the first three notes and the last was found in his office. And, he knows the game better than anyone else alive.”

“Clark Dunbar is having an affair with Kay. Did you know that?”

She saw by his expression that he didn’t.

“I saw them together. Late one night.” She motioned toward her bedroom. “My window faces the guest house entrance.”

He took out his notebook. “When was this?”

“The night before I left for California. Wednesday.”

He noted the fact. “You’re certain it was Dunbar?”

“Absolutely. I couldn’t make out who it was, so I opened my window. I heard his voice.”

Spencer cocked an eyebrow. “Opened the window?”

“My curiosity got the better of me. Have you talked to Dunbar?”

“He’s out of town. Had a long weekend off.”

“And the woman he’s having an affair with disappears, leaving a scene that suggests foul play. Convenient.”

Spencer closed the spiral notebook and tucked it into his breast pocket. “We’ll check it out.”

This time it was she who caught his elbow. “Danson’s alive,” she said. “He’s the White Rabbit. And he’s exacting revenge on Leo and his family.”

“Get a clue, Killian. Noble created this whole White Rabbit thing to get away with killing his wife.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Of course it does. It’s genius. A big, elaborate smoke screen. Even you’re part of the plan, Stacy.” He shook off her hand and walked down the hall.

CHAPTER 49

Friday, March 18, 2005

6:30 p.m.

Stacy watched him walk away, a knot in the pit of her stomach. The past rushed up, so thick and bitter it nearly choked her. This wouldn’t be the first time her judgment had proved faulty. Wouldn’t be the first time she had been deceived. Her good intentions used.

She struggled to breathe evenly. To get a grip on her emotions.

The past was not repeating itself. She wasn’t that woman anymore.

“Stacy?”

She turned. Alice stood just inside her bedroom door. Everything about her body language suggested she might bolt at any moment.

The teenager brought a finger to her lips, pointed to the room where the officers were conducting their search, then motioned her over.

Stacy glanced toward the officers, then strolled past the open doorway, before ducking into Alice’s room.

Alice drew her across the room. Her hands were trembling, clammy. She stopped at the desk and turned on the computer. The device came to life and quickly began loading.

Stacy looked questioningly at Alice and saw that the teenager was near tears.

“I know what the police think. I heard them talking. It’s not true. Dad didn’t do anything to Mom. Or anyone else. I know he didn’t.”

“How, Alice? How do you know?”

She nodded and turned back to the computer terminal. With a few keystrokes, she called up a screen with dated entries. She clicked on the most recent, dated today at 3:00 p.m. It was an e-mail message.

The Mouse, Five and Seven have been eliminated. The Queen is compromised. The Cheshire Cat is making her move; her claws are long, her teeth sharp.

What’s your response?

Stacy knew what she was looking at; a game of White Rabbit in progress.

Not any game, either.

The game.

“I thought I’d better…I wanted you to see this first. Because of Mom. And Dad.”

Her Mom. The Queen of Hearts.

Stacy quelled her excitement, her urge to shake information out of the teenager. “Who’s the White Rabbit, Alice?”

“I don’t know. I met him in an RPG chat room. But he’s my friend, he wouldn’t hurt me or anyone else.”

“Your friend?” Stacy worked to keep her voice low, her tone measured. “People are dying, Alice.”

“I know how it looks, but it can’t-” She clasped her hands together. “It’s just a game. Right?”

The teenager longed to be convinced, reassured. Unfortunately, Stacy couldn’t do that. “Rosie Allen is dead. Her killer left a message by her body-poor little mouse, drowned in a pool of tears. August Wright and Roberto Zapeda are also dead. The killer left a message by their bodies as well-the roses are red now. Judging by the cards and message left in your dad’s office, the pair represented the Five and Seven of Spades.”

She paused to let her words sink in. “Now your mother is missing. And coincidentally, in your game the Queen of Hearts is ‘compromised.’ Is it simply a game, Alice? You tell me.”

The girl broke down. “I di…didn’t know,” she managed to say around sobs. “Until…Mom…then I…then I knew the White Rabbit was using me to…decide-”

“Let’s figure this out,” Stacy said softly. “We’ll do it together. Figure out who he is and stop him.”

Alice wiped her tears and met Stacy’s eyes. “How? Tell me what to do.”

Stacy nodded, proud of the teenager. “First, the Queen is compromised. What does that mean?”

“It’s a game strategy. Incapacitate one of the players, then move on to another. Return later for the…for the kill.”

Return for the kill. Of course.

Kay was still alive.

“You know what this means, Alice. Your mother’s alive.”

The young woman’s eyes widened, filling once more with tears. This time with relief, Stacy suspected.

“Who is he?” Stacy asked again. “You must have some idea.”

“I don’t. Honestly.” She wrung her hands. “We met in an RPG chat room. We became…friends. He asked if I wanted to play.”

“How long ago did you meet?”

“Eight months ago. Maybe a year.”

“Did he ever suggest a meeting?”

“No.” She tilted her chin up. “But I wouldn’t have gone. I’m not that stupid.”

She flushed as if realizing that maybe she was, considering the turn of events.

“I know he’s really smart. We discussed everything from anthropology, to psychology, to art. He was knowledgeable about them all.”

A real Renaissance man.

Stacy glanced up, to the bookshelf above the computer. She took in the eclectic hodgepodge of titles, everything from fiction to law texts and gaming manuals. She even had a copy of the DSM-IV, the clinician’s guide to mental illness. The DPD shrink kept a copy in his office.