Karen Rose - Have You Seen Her?

Steven's gut seethed, picturing her scared and hurt and crawling through her own house like a wounded animal. For that alone, whoever did this to her would pay.

Kent reappeared, a question on his face. "Jenna, was there a blanket on your bed?"

She stared up at him dully and for a minute Steven didn't think she could answer. Then she licked her lips, chewed on her lower lip. "He pulled it off me. Onto the floor."

Steven's eyes flicked to the paramedic in a panic. "Did he-"

The paramedic shook his head. "She says no and I didn't see anything to the contrary."

"He started to," Jenna said unevenly. "He… touched me. He was wearing gloves. Then he stopped and opened a case." She paused and her eyes focused. "It sounded just like yours," she said, pointing to the paramedic's case. "The way you seated the buckle, then snapped it closed. Except he was opening his. Then Jean-Luc was there. They fought and he screamed. Then Jean-Luc…" She winced and looked away.

"If he can be saved, Wendy's the one who can do it," Kent said matter-of-factly and Jenna looked up at him, gratitude in her eyes.

"Thank you."

"There's no blanket there now, Steven," Kent said, dropping his voice. "I think the dog may have gotten him good enough to draw blood. He probably used the blanket to stem the flow. Wendy's checking the dog's teeth."

Unbelievably Steven felt his lips curve. "You'll be paying royalties to Law and Order before all this is over."

Kent grasped his shoulder and squeezed. "She's okay, Steven." He looked over at the paramedic who was now standing, watching with interest. "Does she need to go to the hospital?"

"No. I closed the wound and gave her an antibiotic injec-tion. She should have it looked at by her doctor, but she can do that tomorrow morning."

Kent looked back at Steven. "Then take her home and have a drink to settle your nerves. Get some sleep. We can manage without you for one morning meeting."

Steven squeezed Jenna's hand. "I'll pack you a bag."

Monday, October 10, 8:00 A.M.

His team frowned when ne came in the next morning. They started talking at once, his boss leading the pack. "We thought you'd be staying home today, Steven," Lennie said reproachfully.

"What the hell are you doing here, Steven?" Sandra demanded.

"Ste-ven," Nancy sighed.

"I told you we could manage," Kent said, looking a little hurt.

"You're an idiot, Steven," Harry muttered.

"You should be home," Liz ceclared.

Meg just looked at him, exasperated but unsurprised.

Davies sat at the end of the table watching.

Steven took his seat and looked at his team, his boss, his visiting "associate."

And thought about the night before. Jenna's terrified face. the blood on her shirt. Her two wounded animals. The blood on her bed. Next to the vicious rip in the mattress. He closed his eyes and shuddered. The rip that could have just as easily been in her. He would have lost her.

He opened his eyes to find everyone watching him, concerned. "I want him," he said simply. "I want him put away. I want to throw the key into the middle of the ocean so he never sees the light of day again." He looked at Liz. "Legally, of course."

She raised a brow. "Of course."

"So," he said, sitting back in his chair, "where are we, people?"

Monday, October 10, 8:00 A.M.

He eased himself into the only chair in the barn. "Damn dogs."

He winced as he pulled the watting from his leg and dabbed the torn flesh on his thigh with a ninety-nine-cent bottle of peroxide he'd bought at an all-night drugstore over the Virginia border. He couldn't waltz into a hospital with a bite like this. He simply wasn't willing to give Thatcher that big a handicap.

He knew from experience that he'd be all right in a week or so. Once, years ago, he'd been bitten by a dog he hadn't quite immobilized well enough before initiating a slice across his belly. He'd taken care of that bite himself, too, so he knew the drill. Key learnings from that experience had been to keep the wound clean, keep it dry, and use lots of antibiotic cream. And never, ever cut open a dog if he hadn't thoroughly tested the strength of his restraints.

After tonight he could add two more jewels of wisdom to the list. Never assume there is only one dog just because you've only seen one. And never, ever make house calls.

Next time, he'd bring Miss Marshall here. Where he had all his things about him.

He limped over to where pretty Alev lay huddled on his table in a fetal position. She was starting to get dehydrated and she hadn't eaten in a few days. She wouldn't last much longer, so he'd have to make the best of the time he had left.

He pushed aside the residual anger over the events at Miss Marshall's apartment.

Don't worry , he told himself. Consider it a practice run. There's always next time .

Monday, October 10, 8:15 A.M.

Steven massaged his throbbing temples. "Both Rudy and his father have alibis for last night?"

"By none other than our own unmarked cars," Lennie said dryly. "How's that for irony?"

"It sucks," Steven said. "So where does that leave us?"

"Somebody else was in Jenna's apartment last night," Harry said. "One of Lutz's football buddies most likely. We have the names Pullman questioned about the cut brakes. We'll pull 'em all in for questioning."

"Whoever it was will have a nasty dog bite," Kent said with satisfaction.

Steven looked over at him. " Please tell me you found something in Jean-Luc's teeth."

His eyes sparkling behind his thick lenses, Kent nodded. "Wendy took the swab and it's perfect. DNA lab says we'll get a good print."

Thank you , Steven prayed silently to heaven. To Kent he said, "Good work. Tell Wendy I said the same."

"But we're no closer to having enough to bring Lutz in for questioning on either angle," Lennie said, bringing them all back to the subject at hand.

Steven sighed. "Nope."

"And now Lutz knows we're watching him," Lennie added.

Steven cringed as he remembered the unpleasant conversation with the mayor the day before. And he was grateful he'd assigned the surveillance anyway. At least they knew who hadn't tried to kill Jenna seven hours before. "But for the cut brakes, he thinks," Steven said.

"And if I'm William Parker posing as Rudy Lutz, I'll think someone's on to me," Meg said thoughtfully. "It will change how he functions."

"How?" Davies said, uttering his first word of the day.

"Depends on how sure he is of himself. He'll either stop or turn up the heat a notch."

Davies rolled his eyes. "That's helpful."

Meg narrowed hers. "Well, he's your boy, Neil, why don't you offer some ideas?"

Davies stood up and walked to the bulletin board and stared at the photo of Samantha Eggleston. "Back in Seattle, when he was fifteen, he was different. He picked cheerleaders, shaved their heads, stabbed them fifteen times, but he didn't have the same sense of style.''

"Style." Lennie repeated the word in annoyed bewilderment.

"Yeah, style. I mean, look at the way he's got her laid out. Hands tied together to look like they're folded in prayer. The tattoo." He smacked the bulletin board next to the photo. "The sign, for God's sake. He"s playing a damn game. In Seattle, he didn't keep them for days on end. We found them within forty-eight hours of fix ir going missing. The locations weren't forest clearings that you needed aerial photos to find. They were shopping mall parking lots and soccer fields."

"But he stillwanted the victims to be found," Meg observed. "He still wanted everyone to know someone had killed them. But I see your point. Not only is he escalating in rate, he's escalating in panache. Not only does he want them to be found, but he's going to decide how and when. He sends a letter, leaves a sign. Harry, how did you feel when you found the sign?"