A chill skated over Katherine’s spine. “Evelyn?”

A nod. “She won’t be hurting anyone else.”

“You have to tell Mac and Dane.”

“He’ll come for me. He’ll kill me and maybe even Mac.” Her gaze was on the bandages that covered her arms. On her broken wrist. “I don’t want to be on a slab in my own morgue.”

“For three years,” Katherine told her, “I’ve been looking over my shoulder. Wondering when I’d see him again.”

Ronnie glanced back up at her. The ME’s eyes were so big and lost.

“You don’t want to live that way. You don’t want to always be glancing over your shoulder.”

Ronnie pulled her hand away. “In Boston, why did he let you go?”

“That’s the million-dollar question,” Katherine muttered.

“Why did he save me?” Now Ronnie sounded even more confused. “He tortures and kills. Why save me?”

“Because you weren’t the one he wanted.” Marcus had been right. Valentine had found out that Evelyn was copying his crimes. Katherine headed for the door.

“Each time he goes after someone else, you have the guilt, don’t you?”

Katherine froze. “Yes.”

This is why she wanted to see me. She wants someone to understand why she isn’t telling the police. She works with the cops, day in and day out, but she also sees the bodies. She doesn’t want to wind up as a victim in her own morgue.

“How do you live with it?”

“You don’t sleep. You jump at every sound. Then, one day, you walk into a police station and tell the world who you are.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “Because you’ll get to the point where you can’t hold back any longer. You’ll want to stop him more than you want anything else.”

Ronnie gazed helplessly back at her. The struggle was plain to see on her face.

“You have to get to that point,” Katherine told her with a sad smile. “No one can make you do it.” She reached out for the door.

The beeping of the machines finally slowed. “Bring them in,” Ronnie said.

Katherine opened the door and waved in the detectives. Dane and Mac entered, faces grim.

Ronnie pulled in a deep breath. “Evelyn Knight…she was the one who took me. I didn’t even realize it was her at first because she was still distorting her voice, but after the phone call to you—”

“When I heard you scream,” Dane cut in.

Ronnie shook her head. “That wasn’t me. She never took the duct tape off my mouth. That was her scream. She said that she hadn’t let her other victims scream either.”

Savannah. Amy.

“She stopped using the voice distorter after she got off the phone with you. I guess because…it was time for me to die, and she wanted me to know that she was the one killing me.” Ronnie swallowed. Mac eased closer to her. “But then she heard something upstairs. She thought someone else was in her house.” Her voice dropped. “He was there.”

“Valentine? You saw him?” Mac pushed.

“I didn’t look at his face.” It was said with shame. “I didn’t want to see because if I did…I was afraid he’d kill me.”

Dane glanced over at Katherine.

“He wasn’t there to kill me. He was there for Evelyn. He let me go, and I heard her scream.”

Goose bumps had risen on Katherine’s arms.

“He’s got her,” Ronnie said, “and he’s killing her.”

Evelyn was on a table. Her wrists and ankles were still bound with rope. The duct tape was still over her mouth. Evelyn struggled fiercely. If she could just get the duct tape off her mouth, then she could make him understand.

He appeared before her. A bright light had been positioned right over her head, so, beneath that light, she could see him perfectly.

He looked different from all the pictures she’d seen online.

Not what she’d expected at all.

But Evelyn wasn’t disappointed. She could never be disappointed in him.

He had a knife in his hand. He raised that knife, and she should have tensed. Should have tried to cry out.

She just stared up at him.

He won’t hurt me. He’ll see me for what I am. The knowledge was certain and sure within her. She knew him better than anyone else. Better than Katherine could ever hope.

The others had screamed. They’d fought.

He’d fought back.

Her struggles were gone now. Her body lay limp and relaxed on that hard table. She stared up at him, with all of her certainty and love shining in her eyes.

He brought the knife closer. “You should be afraid.”

She shook her head. No.

“Then you’re even more screwed up than I am.”

He took the knife and sliced it along her left arm. When the blood started to flow, she refused to cry.

He smiled down at her, then he asked, “Do you want to die?”

Pain pulsed in her arm. It wasn’t like it was the first time she’d been cut. As a teen, she’d cut herself plenty of times.

She’d felt alive then.

She felt alive now.

“Do you?” He pressed, sounding mildly curious.

She wouldn’t shake her head. Wouldn’t nod. If he wanted her answer, he’d have to let her talk. Take off the tape.

“You think you’re the smart one, don’t you, Dr. Knight?”

He was putting the knife down, so, yes, she rather did think she was smart.

His fingers came up, strong, long, golden, and pulled the tape from her mouth. She barely felt the tug against her lips.

“Got some last words for me?”

“Not…last.” She hated that he’d drugged her. It had been so unnecessary. But at least he hadn’t given her a dose that was too strong. Not like she’d given to Amy and Savannah.

I was helping them. Making their deaths easier.

He frowned down at her. She smiled back up at him. She’d enjoyed the way he looked before, but this was even better. Wonderful. Perfect.

“I know you.” She whispered this secret.

One brow rose. “Do you.” Not a question.

But she responded as if it were. “I know so much about you…your life…your kills.”

He stiffened. “Give someone a fistful of degrees and they think they know everything.”

“Not everything.” She shook her head. Tried to control her smile. It’s him. “Only you.”




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