Karen Rose - Count to Ten

He worked quickly, applying the gel to her body as he'd done to Penny Hill. He placed the egg between her knees, ran the fuse past her feet. There wasn't any gas in this house- only electric, so he'd have to compromise.

He'd already decided to place a second egg at the apartment's front entrance. Just another little hoop for the firemen to jump through. He ran a second fuse and laid that egg next to his knife on the night table. Then pulled out his lighter and leaned down to Brooke's face. "You're like the others. You say you care, but you betray their trust. You say you want to help those boys, but the first chance you get, you give them to the police. You're just as deceitful and just as guilty. When I light this fuse, start counting."

Her eyes flickered, focusing over his shoulder. He turned, a split second before a violin would have come crashing on his head. It struck his shoulder instead, splintering into pieces. A woman stood, eyes wide, breast heaving as she panted. She held the neck of the shattered violin in her fist, then she swung it at him again. He caught her forearm, but she twisted free. He barely dodged the little chair she swung at him.

He grasped his knife from the nightstand and in one fluid motion plunged it into the violinist's gut and ripped, his eyes locked on hers. Her face contorted and she dropped to the floor on top of her splintered instrument. His heart was pounding, his blood rushing. He felt alive. Untouchable. Invincible. He flicked the lighter, lit the fuse at Brooke's feet, then leaned over her ear. "Count to ten, Brooke. And go to hell."

He grabbed his backpack, the knife, and the other egg, and ran from the apartment, down the stairs. He lit the second fuse and placed the egg in the corner of the lobby. The carpet was threadbare, but it would burn quickly. Then he bolted out the front door.

And nearly had heart failure. Two police cruisers were turning into the complex, lights flashing, sirens blaring. The violinist had called the cops. Fucking bitch . He ducked behind the building and ran to the parking lot behind the next row of apartments. At least he'd had the good sense to case the place when he'd first arrived. Keeping to the shadows, he chose the easiest car to steal. A minute later he was driving away.

He'd almost been caught. He struggled to catch his breath and smelled the violinist's blood. It covered his coat, his gloves. She hadn't been in the plan, but… Wow. It was an incredible feeling, taking a life like that, looking into her eyes as he stole her very soul. He chuckled. The English teacher had rubbed off on him.

The he sobered. And wondered how much of him had rubbed off on the English teacher. The fire would be going by now, but without the gas, it might not be enough to destroy everything. He'd used a condom. He'd worn gloves. But he might have dropped a hair. Still, in order to use it against him, they'd have to find him first.

He didn't have much time and he still had to find Laura Dougherty. Then there were four more. They were the worst. They hadn't been merely involved in Shane's death. They'd killed him . One was in Indy. He'd find the other three, then he'd be finished.

He'd roll into a new life just as he'd rolled into this one, make new friends, find another woman to serve his needs at home. He'd have to think about his next job. He'd never thought about doing the one he had now. It had been the right time and place, so he'd snatched the opportunity. But he'd been good at it.

Who needed a college degree? He was the master chameleon. Like in that movie where the guy impersonates a doctor and a lawyer and a pilot . Maybe he'd try his hand at one of those jobs next time around.

Thursday, November 30, 3:50 a.m.

"Holy shit." The words wheezed from Mia's chest as she lay limp and lax and sated.

Beside her Solliday chuckled. "I love your way with words, Mia."

She pushed up on her elbow and smiled down at him. "You know we're going to be wrecks tomorrow. Today," she corrected, glancing at the clock next to her bed.

"I know, but it was worth it. I don't think I realized just how much I needed this."

She slid her palm across his hard belly, feeling the muscles quiver. "How long has it been?" she asked quietly.

His eyes flicked up to hers. "Six years."

Her brows went up. "Holy shit," she said and he laughed. She raked her fingers through the coarse hair on his chest, sobering. "I needed it, too."

He studied her for a long moment. "I want to know why you didn't want to want this."

"And I'll tell you."

"Just not now?" She nodded her eyes solemn. "Tonight?" he pressed and again she nodded wordlessly. "It'd be better if you could come to me, after Beth's in bed. That way I don't have to ask Lauren to watch her like I did tonight."

"Somehow I didn't get the impression that she'd mind," Mia said wryly and his expression changed. He hadn't told Lauren where he was going. His sister thought he'd been called to a fire. The realization stung a little. "You don't want her to know."

"Not yet." He sat up and she rolled to her back. The night was officially over.

"Tomorrow," she started. "Today, I mean. We're colleagues. Nothing more."

The look he sent her was level. "Nothing more." Then he surprised her by leaning down and kissing her with a hunger that stole her breath. "Tonight, though, much more."

He was buckling his belt when his cell phone rang. "Solliday." He got down on one knee to find his socks. "Was there a gas explosion?… Fine then. I'll proceed to 2026 Chablis Court. Thanks, Larry. I should be there in fifteen to twenty."

"It's way past midnight," Mia observed and he threw a look over his shoulder.

"There was no gas explosion, so it's probably not our guy. It's an apartment fire, so they've called four companies to the scene-Larry's is one of them." He slipped his feet in his shoes. "There's no reason for us both to lose sleep. I'll check it out and call you. Can you give me a hand with the buttons on my shirt? It would be faster that way "

She helped him, making quick work of the buttons. "I do hot dogs, too."

He lifted one eyebrow and now she could admit that had turned her on from the beginning. "You are a very bad girl, Mia."

"Mustard, Solliday." She smacked his ass as he walked away. "Think condiments ."

"Very bad girl." He was almost to the front door when it struck her- 2026 Chablis. "Reed, wait ." She ran after him. "Did you say 2026 Chablis Court, like the wine?"

He frowned. "Yeah, why?"

Her heart skipped a beat, visualizing the records check she'd run yesterday. "That's Brooke Adler's address."

His expression went grim. "Meet me there," he said. "Hurry."

Thursday, November 30, 4:15 A.M.

The fire was contained to one apartment building, the end of a row of five. To the untrained eye it might seem chaotic but it was under control. People stood on the edge of the parking lot, huddled in small groups. Many were crying, child and adult alike. The apartment fire he'd worked last year came back and with it the horror for the victims.

And while every one of them was important, one victim was at the front of his mind. Reed found Larry Fletcher and immediately knew it was very bad. "What's happened?"

"We were still en route when you called back, told us about the Adler woman." Larry's voice was flat. "The 186 was doing search and rescue in the building, but Mahoney and Hunter wanted to go in. Wanted to win this time. Chief of the 186 said it was my call, so I let them. Now I wish I'd said no."

"They're hurt?"

"Not physically. They pulled out Adler and her roommate. It was bad, Reed."

Reed looked over his shoulder. Mia was turning in from the main road. "Alive?"

"One was DOA. The other's on her way to County."