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"He knew that. He also knew you'd be true to him, but he wanted to be there, just be certain."

"That's just ridiculous," she repeated, then thought back. It made sense. It really did. Adam did hate karate, but he went, every single week. "Maybe it isn't so ridiculous," she amended.

"My son wasn't perfect, Je

Je

"I never wanted you to come to Adam's grave and pine for him. I wanted you to go on and find someone who could make you even one-tenth as happy as my son would have."

He cleared his throat gruffly. "So say good-bye to my son and get on with the job of living. If it's with Steven, then put your grudge aside, because your excuse is a terrible one. If it's not him, then make it somebody else real soon. Dammit, girl, I want more grandchildren and I'm not getting any younger."

Je

"I know you do," he barked, then quieted. "Do you love Steven, Je

Je

"Then go to him and tell him so."

"I will, but I need to say something here, first. Would you give me a minute?"

He smiled. "I'll check the graves over there. Their families don't come often as they should."

And as Je

"I don't think I'd go that far."

Je

Friday, October 14, 6:15 P.M.

"You can't come in here!" Mrs. Lutz stood at her front door, clutching her collar to her throat.

"We can, ma'am, and we will. We have a warrant." Steven pulled it from his pocket and handed it to her. He pushed past her, looking around, knowing he had uniforms covering every exit of the house in case any of the Lutzes decided to bolt. "Where is Josh?"

She clutched her collar tighter around her throat. "He's not here."

"And Rudy?"

"He's not here either. I'm going to call my husband."

"You do that, ma'am," said Sandra, right behind Steven. "Any limits to the warrant, Steven?"

"None," Steven said with satisfaction. Liz had done an exemplary job.

"Good old Liz," Sandra said affectionately. "I'll take Rudy's room."

"And I'll take Josh's," Steven said, then turned when Mrs. Lutz screeched bloody murder. He was just in time to see the woman leap against Davies and pound her fists on his chest. Two uniforms pulled her away, wringing her hands. Probably hurt her fists on Davies's Kevlar vest, Steven thought, again with satisfaction.

"You!" Mrs. Lutz screamed. "You ruined our lives by setting my son up in Seattle!" She leapt again and the uniforms pulled her back as Davies just stood there, impassively.

"I never set up your son," Davies said calmly. "I simply targeted the wrong one."

She went white at that and tugged at the restraining hands of the officers. "You're lying. My Joshua would never do anything wrong. It's all that bitch teacher's fault. She's to blame."

"For what, Mrs. Parker?" Davies asked.

She spluttered, then seemed to calm before their eyes. "For failing my Rudy. Neither of my boys touched her. She's a co

"We're not investigating the school vandalism," Steven said mildly, his hand on the banister. "We're investigating serial murder." He had the unmitigated joy of watching Mrs. Lutz swoon.

Steven trotted up the stairs, Davies close behind him.

"Do you always make such devoted friends?" Steven asked.

Davies shrugged. "What can I say? I'm unforgettable."

They found Josh's room impeccably neat and clean. Davies walked right over to the nightstand and pulled a thick volume from the drawer.

"Please tell me that's not a Gideon Bible," Steven said dryly and Davies smiled.

"No, it's I, Claudius. You ever read it?"

Steven riffled through a drawer of socks. "Does it have comics like Captain Underpants?"

"No," said Davies. "Claudius was about twentieth in line for emperor of Rome. Everybody around him was being killed, so he played dumb so he wouldn't be perceived as a threat." He opened the book and flipped through the pages, then set it aside. "He outlived them all and became emperor. Ruler of the world."

Steven pulled a sketch pad from beneath neatly folded shirts and held it up so Davies could see the pages of sketches of the prep school emblem Josh had tattooed on his victims' heads. "Look."

"He was practicing," Davies commented, then pulled open the closet door and stopped. "Oh, my God. Thatcher."

Steven pushed the drawer shut and came to look.

And found the shrine to Je

Friday, October 14, 6:15 P.M.

Josh took a step closer and Je

And then he smiled. "No." He lifted a brow and she knew something was different today. "Miss Marshall," he added.

It was his eyes. Not blank. Not downcast. No sign of mortification. Sharper, somehow.

It took her a minute. A full minute. Then she gasped. "You. It was you in my apartment."

"It was I," he said silkily and pulled something white from his pocket. "I'd thought to do this relatively painlessly, but you have really left me with no choice."

Je

Now.

She took off toward the main road at a sprint and didn't look back. Then flew forward as something heavy hit her in the middle of her back. She hit the ground on all fours, a split second before she was pushed flat to the ground, his knee in her back. His hand came around to grab her chin, and her head was jerked back and she could hear his heavy breathing.

"Don't make me run, Miss Marshall," he said, his voice rough and… uncontrolled. It was different than the night in her apartment, because that night he'd had icy control. She could only hope she could use that fact to escape. To get help. Seth. Oh, God, Seth. Please hang on.