"You don't have to go back to the office tonight, do you?"

"No, there's nothing I can do there." His tone was bleak.

"Cassie said the killer wouldn't leave enough evidence to make himself identifiable – was she right about that?" "So far." Despite his earlier words, he looked very tired. "If we can ever get a viable suspect, we might have enough to nail his ass. He didn't wear a condom when he raped the Ramsay girl."

Abby tried hard to match his seeming detachment. "So he might be a – what do you call it? – a secretor?"

"Maybe. But even if he isn't, with all the advances in DNA testing, we should be able to get just about everything except his name and address from the semen." He added, "Not that DNA evidence always convinces a jury, as we well know, but I'm counting on Ben to make damned sure this one doesn't slip through our fingers if we make it that far."

"If?"

Matt sighed heavily. "We might never catch him, Abby. I haven't wanted to admit it even to myself, but the simple truth is that serial killers tend to get caught only if they screw up – and they seldom screw up."

"But this is such a small town, a town where everyone knows his neighbor. How can a – a monster hide here?"

"In plain sight. Going about his business just like the rest of us, and probably with a smile on his face." Matt shook his head. "He won't have two heads, or a forked tail – or anything else to warn the world he's an evil bastard."

Abby was silent for a minute, then said, "Was that FBI agent any help?"

"Some. He knows a bit about serial killers, and more than a bit about murder investigations. I figured he'd just get in my way, but so far he hasn't tried to take over the case. Not really surprising, I guess, since his main interest is Cassie."

"That's what she said. But what is he doing, Matt? I mean, does he want to find some kind of evidence that she's genuine? Or that she isn't?"

"According to Bishop, he's just observing. I can't make out whether he believes in her or not. He says his interest in Cassie goes back a few years, that investigations she gets involved in tend to be – I think the phrase he used was 'unusually interesting.' So he keeps an eye on her in his free time. I did point out that Cassie would most probably have a solid case for harassment if she decided to protest his observing, but he didn't seem too worried."

"How about Cassie?"

"Tense when he's around, but not especially upset, far as I can see."

Abby hesitated. "Do you think that maybe it isn't Cassie's psychic abilities Bishop is interested in?"

Matt sipped his coffee. "I wouldn't be surprised if Ben's afraid it's something like that."

"But what do you think?"

"Bishop doesn't give away much, so I couldn't say what his feelings are. As for Cassie, Ben's the one she watches when he isn't watching her."

"I like her," Abby said.

Matt looked at her with brooding eyes. "Yeah, so dot."

"But?"

He shook his head. "No buts. It's just that I'm wondering what all this is doing to her. To them."

"It can't be easy for either of them."

"No. And even without this situation, I'd say both of them have a few problems to work through."

Abby lifted an eyebrow. "Cassie's problems I can guess. But Ben? He's always seemed very centered, very balanced and emotionally stable."

"He has, hasn't he?" Matt shook his head. "We all have problems. Ben has his. But in one way Cassie may turn out to be the best thing that's ever happened to him. Thanks to her, I think he's finally beginning to figure out the difference between being needed by a woman and having a needy woman hung around his neck."

"You mean Mary?"

"I do. Granted the old judge was a cold fish, but if Mary had been more mature, she wouldn't have clung to Ben all these years trying to get the emotional security she needed. With her hung around his neck, especially since the old judge died, it's no wonder the last thing he wanted from any other woman was even the hint she might need more from him than he was willing to give."

"Makes sense, I guess. And you think Cassie is asking for something he is willing to give?"

Slowly Matt said, "I think.Cassie is asking absolutely nothing of Ben, despite the fact that it's painfully obvious how alone she is in her life. And maybe that's it. Maybe for once Ben's the one who needs more than he's being offered."

"From what she told me, I gather Cassie is trying not to get involved with him."

"Oh, hell, they're already involved. He's over there tonight, just like he was last night – and will be tomorrow night. Watching over her."

"Ben's never struck me as especially protective of the ladies he was interested in."

"You noticed that, huh?"

Abby smiled. "Does he know yet?"

"I don't think so. And I'd bet a year's pay that Cassie isn't sure whether he feels responsible for her or is just trying to get in her panties."

Abby had to laugh.

Matt smiled in response but then sobered. "I think that lady has seen too many monsters up close and personal. And even though yours truly is an open book to her, she says she can't read Ben, and I'm guessing that'll just make it harder for her to let him get close."

"And the longer this killer stays on the loose…"

"The worse it'll be for both of them. Right now, as tenuous and fragile as it is, Cassie's connection to the killer is our best lead." Matt paused. "And the killer knows it."

He wound the music box carefully and let it play, smiling as the two dancers twirled and bobbed around each other in their eternal circle.

He was tired and needed to sleep, because there would be so much to do tomorrow. But not just yet.

First he had to open his treasure box and look at each and every item, just as he always did before bed.

Becky Smith's necklace. Ivy Jameson's peacock pin. Jill Kirkwood's lace-trimmed handkerchief. That was somewhat crumpled, since he had come into it a few nights before, but the sticky evidence of his devotion only made his smile widen.

He held his most recent trophy in his hands and studied it in the lamplight. Deanna Ramsay's panties. He liked the silky feel of them in his fingers. He liked the pretty blue and green flowers printed on the material. He liked the way they smelled.

He held the panties to his nose for a few minutes, eyes closed, breathing in, then put them tenderly into his treasure box with the other items.

He closed the box, then carried it to the dresser and placed it alongside the square of black velvet that occupied the center space beneath the mirror.

There were only two coins left, the dime and the fifty-cent piece.

He frowned down at them for a moment, trying to remember why they were so important.

Oh, yes. Tokens of his affection. He had to leave tokens of his affection with the ladies. That was… important.

He mustn't forget how important.

Two more, then.

He had already selected them. And he knew what he would do to them. It was going to be so much fun. The only question was, which one would be first?

Eeny, meeny, miny, mo… catch a lady by the toe… if she hollers… don't let her go…

He lifted his eyes and gazed into the mirror, sad but unsurprised when nobody looked back.

Cassie woke with a start but had no idea what had jarred her from a blissful sleep. Then, even as Ben rose on an elbow beside her, she remembered.

"Hey." He touched her face with gentle fingers. "Are you all right?"

His hands were always so warm. She loved that. She wanted to purr like a cat whenever he touched her.

She thought she should probably be embarrassed by that.

"I'm fine," she said at last.

"You cried out in your sleep."