Chapter 16

Eden awoke with a start. “Oh my God.” She bolted up, shoved her hair out of her face. Bare threads of sunlight filtered in through the collection of small circular windows above the bed. “It was a van.”

“No. It’s a boat. In fact, it’s a Craftsman 280,” Cole groaned and rolled over onto his side. “Eden, some things you’ll just have to accept.”

“Funny. But no, I meant in the parking lot. That shiny white image I couldn’t make out the night he took me.” She slapped at Cole’s roaming hands before climbing over him and out of bed. “It was one of those big blood donor vans that travel around. And there was this enormous blood drop on the back end.” She searched the floor for something to wear, grabbed his T-shirt because it was closest and tugged it on. “White and red. Glossy, almost wet looking. I need to find that logo.”

“Eden, it’s...” He picked up his phone. “It’s not even six yet.”

“Think about that next time you go for round three.” She planted her hands on the mattress and looked down at him. She’d never seen a sexier sight in her life than Cole Delaney the morning after. She kissed him quickly, avoiding his hands as they reached for her again. “If we catch the Iceman, we’ll have more time for play.”

“There’s a bit of motivation I hadn’t considered.” He dragged himself up. “Can I at least have a shower and some coffee first?”

“You shower. I’ll get your coffee.”

She darted out of the room and went straight to the kitchen.

While his coffee brewed, she booted up her computer, doing everything she could to stop herself from dwelling on Cole’s admission last night. He loved her. Loved. Her.

The idea shouldn’t paralyze her, shouldn’t make her shiver as if the grim reaper himself had draped her in his chilly cloak. Eden pressed her fingers into her temples. Love wasn’t supposed to be a part of this. It couldn’t be.

Eden had spent most of her life avoiding the word, not to mention the feeling. She didn’t say it; she’d spent years learning not to even think it.

Love was important for Cole. The word, the emotion, the expression, were vital to his life. And while part of her thrilled at the idea of being loved by him, how could she take the chance? Everyone she’d ever loved was dead. First Chloe, then her parents, then Logan.

In her experience love was never the beginning; it was always the end. The second she thought it, the second she felt it, she’d lose. They’d lose. But how could she say no to Cole?

How could she deny to herself what she was feeling?

“You’re thinking overtime again, I see.”

Eden glanced over her shoulder as he joined her in the galley. Stark naked. She couldn’t help it. She grinned. “Nice outfit.”

“Thought you might appreciate it.” He pulled his mug free. “Besides, I couldn’t find my pants.” He sipped and reached out for her with his free hand. “Come here.” He tugged her close and kissed her to the point she’d forgotten what she’d been worrying over. “Join me in the shower?”

“It’s not very big.” She pressed her hand flat over his heart.

“Neither is the water heater.” He nibbled his way down the side of her neck. “I’ve always wanted to test just how long it would take to run out.”

“Cole—” Wow, when had she become so...wanton?

“I bet some steam would help you remember more about that van you saw.” He stepped back, set his mug down and wrapped his arms around her, pressed his mouth to hers. “Let’s get that mind of yours all nice and scrubbed, shall we?”

“It’s not my mind you’re interested in at the moment.” She laughed and set the mounting doubts and fear aside. And then they were in the bathroom and he was pulling her shirt off. “Okay, you win.” She stepped into the shower with him as he turned on the water. “Scrub away.”

* * *

Half-dressed, Eden dug through her suitcase and searched for her zip-front sweatshirt. One of the valley’s unpredictable temperature drops meant they were in for a cooler-than-usual spring day. Shirts were tossed aside, jeans, errant socks, underwear scattered over the guest room floor.

A gentle metal clink, followed by the tinny notes of Swan Lake, echoed from her bag.

Eden’s throat tightened, and the memory of her friend’s face when she’d opened that birthday gift flashed behind her tightly closed eyes. Steeling herself, she lifted the music box out of the bag, watched the tines pluck against the wheel. Twenty years. It seemed like just yesterday they were mere kids. Logan, Allie... Cole. When the tune wore down, she clicked the box shut.

Only then did she see the small folded card that had fallen out.

She stopped in her tracks. It was then the smell caught her nose. Sweet. Sickly sweet. Cotton candy.

Cole arrived with another cup of coffee. “Here. Thought you could use—”

“It wasn’t the Iceman.” Eden struggled to make every syllable count. The last few days shifted in her mind as she struggled to comprehend.

“It wasn’t the Iceman what? Come on, Eden, you’re white as a sheet.” He set the mug down and walked over to her, but she pointed to her bag.

“In there. The note card.” The same stationery as the one that had been delivered with the flowers.

The same one Allie had received at her office.

Cole unfolded the paper. She watched his jaw clench as he read the contents. “‘Happy Anniversary.’”

“It wasn’t him. The Iceman didn’t break into my home the other night,” Eden breathed even as she fought for oxygen. “The candle in the basement, the way nothing else seemed to have been touched. He wanted me to know he’d been there. This wasn’t about the Iceman murders. This was about Chloe.”

“You don’t know—”

“I keep that box next to my bed, Cole.” She gripped his arm and willed him to understand. “Wherever I’ve lived since she was killed, it goes by my bed. I play it when I can’t sleep. When I need to remind myself why I do what I do. But the other day, after I got home from the hospital, it was on my dresser. I thought maybe Allie had moved it or even you had.” She held her breath, waiting for the familiar argument to begin, but it never happened. “You believe me, don’t you?”

“I do.” He held the card by the edges and used his free hand to touch her cheek. “I do, Eden. I’m going to get this to evidence. Have them compare it to the one Allie was sent. And Simone.”

“It’ll match.”

He wrapped his arm around her, drew her in, and for a second she let herself lean on him, draw strength from him. Need him.

She clung to him, surrendered again, because she was safe. Because he had been and always would be her one constant. She squeezed her eyes shut, ordering herself not to be greedy; not to take too much, too soon.

Needing anyone—needing him—would only mean pain for both of them in the long run. Being with him last night and again this morning, waking up in his bed, looking into his eyes first thing showed her what was possible.

And just how much more she had to lose.

“We’ll get him, Eden.” He brushed a kiss against her temple. “He won’t hurt you or Simone or Allie. I promise.”

But for the first time, Eden wasn’t sure she believed him.

* * *

“You okay?” Cole asked as he parked the car and plugged his phone into the charger.

“I’m fine.” What else could she say? Besides, it wasn’t as if Eden St. Claire ever admitted fear. Or defeat. “Hopefully we’ll have better luck with this group.”

“We should,” Cole agreed. “This support group was at the top of Dr. Tanner’s list. Largest number of members, and it’s been around for almost a decade.”

Eden walked beside him, down the narrow hallway of the community center just off Q and Twenty-Third. “Jack’s investigating the other two?”

“Supposedly. I’d hoped to check in with him earlier, but someone distracted me.”

Just as he was trying to do for her now.

“You’re the one who wanted to buddy up to save water.” Humor, she told herself, would see her through despite whatever doubts crept in. Back on the case now, where she didn’t have to think about Chloe’s killer or Cole and her feelings...well, Cole.

Since seeing Mr. Sexy Cop mussed and tousled in bed wasn’t enough, she’d watched him shave clad in nothing but a low-riding towel. And it wasn’t even her birthday. Her brain wasn’t large enough to compartmentalize all this. “On the bright side, we can now confirm it takes well over a half hour to drain the hot water tank dry.”

Cole chuckled. “Meeting room’s up here. I’ll call when we get back to the car.” He poked his head in the open doorway and knocked on the frame. “Jenna Batsakis?”

“Yes?” The whir of a mechanized wheelchair buzzed as a young woman spun to face them. Slight, frail even, with a spring-yellow dress, matching sweater and tumbling dark curls, she smiled wide and looked doll-like. “May I help you?”

Eden glanced around the outdated yet neat and clean room. Two young men arranged cushioned folding chairs into a large circle in the center, while another set up coffee cups and a coffeemaker on a table by the window.

“Detective Cole Delaney.” He showed Jenna his badge. “This is Eden St. Claire. We’d like to ask you some questions about the support group you run here at the center?”

“Oh?” She glanced at Eden as if she was trying to remember her from somewhere. “Professionally or has one of you been diagnosed with a blood disorder?”

“No, I’m afraid this is in reference to a case we’re working on.”

“A case? Eden on Ice?” Jenna flipped the toggle on her chair and she shot forward. “I thought I recognized your name.” She extended her hand. “I’m a bit of a crime junkie. Spending as much time as I do in and out of the hospital, I’m always looking for interesting reading. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise. Are we interrupting?”

“No, no. Our next meeting isn’t until this afternoon. I’ve been cooped up for the last couple of weeks, so when I’m set free, I don’t let grass grow under my wheels. Please, have a seat. Thanks, guys!” she called out to her helpers as they headed out. “I can’t imagine I’ll be of any assistance to you, but I’m happy to try.” She folded her thin hands in her lap.

“Dr. Tanner at the Sanguinem Clinic suggested we speak with you. She said you’ve dealt with a number of patients and their family members over the years.”

“Avery, of course. Yes. I was a patient of theirs once upon a time.”

“You aren’t any longer?” Eden asked.

“No.” Her smile never even dipped. “They’d exhausted all treatment options for my condition. I’m afraid the only hope for me now is a bone marrow transplant, and despite having a donor, that isn’t looking promising. My current doctors agree I seem to be past the point of being able to tolerate such a severe procedure.”

“Forgive me, but you don’t seem too upset by that,” Cole said. Eden marveled. He had such a way with people; he put them at ease almost immediately. How she envied that.

“Why would I be?” Jenna looked truly baffled at the notion. “I’m twenty-six years old, Detective. I was diagnosed with paroxysmal nocturnal hemoglobinuria shortly after I was born. Truth be told, I wasn’t supposed to see my fifth birthday, so I’m not about to complain now that I’ve had twenty-plus more of them.”

Eden shifted uncomfortably. And she was whining about her problems? What right did she have to be afraid of a little four-letter word compared with what this young woman was going through?

“When did you form Aima? That’s Greek for blood, isn’t it?” Cole asked.

“Yes, it is. My mother’s idea, actually.” She gestured to three framed photographs hanging about a small desk in the corner. “After years of volunteering at St. Augustus, she understood how a group like this could work. I took it over after she died. She called Aima her silver lining.”

“Do any of these names look familiar to you?” Cole pulled out the list he’d written and handed it to her.

Jenna scanned the names. “One or two. But I can’t be certain if it’s from the group or from one of the other facilities I’ve been treated at. I meet a lot of people.”

“That’s kind of what we’re counting on,” Eden said. “What type of people come to your meetings?”

“Anyone who’s dealing with their own health issues or those of a loved one. Having a support system when dealing with any chronic illness is vital, especially if that patient is a child. It’s not pretty.” She tugged the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands. “Do you mind me asking which case you’re working on?”

“The Iceman,” Eden said before Cole could decide. “We’re exploring the theory the killings are somehow connected to his victims’ blood.”

Jenna blinked, her already pale face going gray. “I don’t understand. How could they be?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Cole said, brushing his fingers lightly against Eden’s knee as if to tell her to ease off. “Have you had any newcomers to the group lately? Or someone drop out all of a sudden?”

“Ah.” Jenna clutched the collar of her sweater at her throat. “I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you. As I said, I’ve been in the hospital for almost a month. Blood clots.” She stretched her frail legs out. “Completely unpredictable. I was reading up on your blog, actually, Ms. St. Claire. Did...?” Jenna drew in a shuddering breath. “Did he take your blood, as well?”

“Some of it,” Eden said. “My doctors seem to think I didn’t have what he’s looking for.”

“And what would that be?” A blind person would have been able to tell Jenna was shaking. Eden’s heart began to pound.

“Iron.” Now it was Cole’s turn to surprise Eden. “Are you all right, Jenna? You seem a little nervous all of a sudden.”

“Fine. I’m fine. Iron, you say?” Her voice trembled.

“Yes. All the victims had been treated for varying degrees of DIOS.”

“I see.” Jenna swallowed and nodded. “I assume many of them also donated blood frequently. That’s one of the recommended treatments normally.”

“According to their medical records, yes.” Cole angled a glance at Eden.

“Is there someone who oversees the Aima meetings when you aren’t able to, Jenna?” Eden reached out and touched the young woman’s shoulder. “A friend or family member?”

“Um, no.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “No. We haven’t been having them while I’ve been ill. I’m afraid it’s just me.”

Eden didn’t buy it. It was obvious how much this group meant to Jenna. She wouldn’t take a chance and let it flounder without her. She’d have a contingency in place.

“And how do you let your members know a meeting’s been canceled?” Cole asked.

“We post it on the community center’s website and the staff puts a notice on the board. Most of my regulars know to double-check before making the drive downtown. I’m sorry—is there anything else? I’m suddenly not feeling very well.”

“That’ll be all for now. Would you like us to call someone for you?” Cole asked as she pushed her chair forward and around.

“I’m just going to lie down in the spare room for a while.” She was almost to the door when she spun back around. “D-do you know why he’s taking their blood, Detective?”

“We’d only be speculating, Jenna. We think he could be experimenting with it. Looking for a cure for himself.”

“Or for someone he loves,” Eden added.

Jenna’s gaze flew to hers. “That would still make what he’s doing wrong,” she whispered, and in that instant, Eden knew.

“Yes,” Eden said. “It would.”

Jenna nodded and zoomed away.

Eden tugged Cole from the room and they exited the building. Fast.

“Um, Cole? Did we just hit the jackpot?”

“So much so our next stop should be Vegas. Give me your phone.” He held out his hand as they hurried to the car. He dialed. “Yeah, Jack, it’s me,” he said into the cell and skidded to a stop. He signaled to Eden. “Wait—what?” Now it was his turn to grab hold of her. He listened, and as Eden watched him, she saw the pulse in his neck throb heavily. “No, yeah, my phone died. We’re heading in now. I want you to get everything you can on a Jenna Batsakis. She runs a blood disease support group downtown called Aima. Dig deep, Jack. We’re getting close.” He hung up and tossed Eden her phone. “Get in.”

“What’s happened?” Eden cried over the hood of the car.

“Missing person’s report just came in. Jeff Cottswold. Medical student. His girlfriend came home early from a girls’ trip to Mexico. She talked to him yesterday morning, so he hasn’t been gone long.”

“We’re sure it’s the Iceman?” Eden hopped into the car as Cole flipped his visor down and hit the siren.

“He was headed home from a doctor’s appointment when he called her. At the Sanguinem Clinic.”

Eden whooped.

“Yeah,” Cole said. “We wanted a break in the case. Looks like we’ve got one.”

* * *

“Somebody tell me where we are!” Cole yelled as he and Eden hurried through the double glass doors. He dodged uniformed officers scrambling for phones and computers, the din of determination echoing in his ears. “Jack?”

His partner jumped to his feet from behind his desk, phone tucked under his ear. “Give me five!”

“I’ll be in the conference room.” Eden brushed a hand over his arm and raced off.

“Lieutenant?” Cole caught up with his boss, who had his nose buried in a file.

“I recruited Missing Persons,” Lieutenant Santos told him. “They’re on board with whatever we want to do until we get a result on this.”

Cole heard the silent or don’t get one loud and clear.

“Who’s this Jenna Batsakis you told McTavish about?” Santos asked. “Bowie! Where’s that updated license registry on medical vehicles?”

“Coming through now, Lieutenant.”

“Batsakis runs a support group for patients with blood disorders out of a community center downtown.” Cole caught sight of a haggard-looking Agent Simmons waving Eden over to him through the glass window of the conference room. “Progress?”

“We’ll see. Simmons has a contact with the state medical board. He’s gotten us a list of all approved medical transports operating in Northern California. We’re looking into Nevada and Oregon, as well, just in case the guy got clever and tried to stay off the radar.” Lieutenant Santos finally glanced up at Cole. “This Batsakis woman? She a viable suspect?”

“She’s not physically capable. Not on her own, anyway.”

“But you’re not ruling her out as far as being involved.”

“Anything’s possible.” An award-winning actress couldn’t have been more convincing. “Nobody gets that nervous that quick if they don’t have something to hide. She knows more than she’s saying. I’d bet my pension on it.”

“I doubt you’ll have to.” Jack hung up and flipped through his antiquated notebook. “Jenna Batsakis, born February 20, 1989, to Helena and Aristos Batsakis, both deceased. In and out of medical facilities since the age of four, when she was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder that resulted in something I won’t even try to pronounce. Attended St. Augustus Parochial School until grade five, then was homeschooled. She earned a degree in social work and family therapy through a reputable online college, after which she got a two-year degree in biology. She’s been running Aima for the last three years. No police record. No DMV record. What she does have is a brother. Hector Batsakis. Same birth date, five minutes older. We’re running him through the system now.”

“A twin,” Cole said. “Allie said he’d be a caretaker, a protector.”

“I want Dr. Hollister brought in on this,” Lieutenant Santos said. “Call her, then fill in the rest of the team. I want our focus on these two.”

“Yes, sir.” Cole went to his desk and made the call before joining Eden and the rest of the team in the conference room. Laptops, paperwork and scattered remnants of fast-food wrappers and paper cups littered the table. “We’ve got a name. Hector Batsakis.”

“Jenna has a brother.” The flash of sympathy he saw in Eden’s eyes registered with him.

“A twin.”

“Cole...you don’t think she knows about this?”

“She knows something. First, I want to talk to Jenna’s doctors and find out exactly what her condition is.”

“And if what we think the Iceman is honing in on can connect to Jenna’s condition,” Eden finished. “That’s a strong connection, being a twin. Not a lot one wouldn’t do for the other.”

“You can only break doctor-patient privilege once the patient is deceased,” Agent Simmons said. “Or unless the closest family member agrees. I ran into that issue after Denise died.”

“Wait a minute.” Eden snapped her fingers. “Didn’t Jenna say she was a former patient of Dr. Tanner’s?”

“It still wouldn’t allow her to break confidentiality.” Agent Simmons shook his head.

“No, but it might allow her to talk in hypotheticals,” Cole offered. “Allie’s on her way in to consult now that we have a suspect.”

“Go talk to Dr. Tanner again,” Eden said. “We’ll try to track down that medical logo on the vehicle I saw.”

He didn’t like the idea of leaving her behind. His hesitation must have showed.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Agent Simmons promised and earned an exaggerated eye roll from Eden. “I won’t let her out of my sight.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” He jogged out of the conference room and tagged Jack. “Let’s go, partner. We’ve got a doctor to question.”

* * *

“I’m sorry, Detective Delaney, but there’s nothing I can tell you about Jenna and her treatment. Her records are confidential.” Dr. Tanner’s earlier friendliness had been replaced with stoic jaw-locked determination.

“I’m not asking you to divulge her current medical status,” Cole said, taking a different route. “What I do need to know is why she’s no longer being treated at your facility.”

Dr. Tanner’s lips tightened. She shoved her hands in her pockets and looked between him and Jack, who had taken up his casual-looking stance in the doorway. Casual, yeah right. That was Jack’s pre-pounce position.

“Work with us, Doc,” Jack said. “Theoretically, what treatment options are left for her?”

Cole kept his expression passive as his partner looked to confirm Jenna’s story.

“In theory?” Dr. Tanner said. “Nothing. Her body can’t tolerate—”

“Tolerate what? If there’s nothing, that is?” Jack asked. “Look, we get it. You’ve got a lot to protect here. Believe me, the last thing we want to do is interfere with your work or jeopardize your other patients, but that’s what you’re doing by not answering our questions. This isn’t just about Jenna. It’s about the victims, including one we’re trying to find now.”

Dr. Tanner turned shocked eyes on Cole. “Someone else is missing?”

“Jeff Cottswold,” Cole told her. “He disappeared sometime after his appointment here yesterday afternoon.”

“Jeff?” Dr. Tanner shook her head. “Oh, no. That can’t be right.”

“His girlfriend reported him missing after she came home unexpectedly from a trip. When our detectives with Missing Persons asked about his health, she admitted he’s been a patient here for the last six months. What is he being treated for? DIOS?” Cole tried to keep his voice even-tempered. Scaring her into cooperating wasn’t going to work. “Are his iron levels well above normal?”

“I can’t—”

“Can you blink?” Jack asked.

“I’m sorry?” Dr. Tanner snapped.

Jack explained, “Blink once for yes. You won’t have said a word.”

Dr. Tanner took a deep breath, folded her hands on her desk. And blinked.

“And his suggested course of treatment was...what?” Cole pressed harder. “Medication?” No blink. “Transfusion?” Not a twitch.

“Blood donation?” Jack asked.

She blinked.

“Would that donation have been done at this facility?” Cole wondered.

“It could be, but no. Jeff was on his way to class. He said there’s a mobile blood unit he’d seen driving around campus and the surrounding neighborhoods the last few months. He could fit that into his schedule more easily.”

Cole leaned forward and looked Dr. Tanner directly in her skittish eyes. “Answer a hypothetical for me, Doctor. If blood that contained an overload of iron were to be transfused into someone with, say, PNH...”

Dr. Tanner’s mouth twisted as her eyes sharpened.

“We’re just talking theory here, Doc,” Jack added. “Could a transfusion of that kind connect in any way to whatever treatment a patient like Jenna needs but can’t tolerate?”

“I don’t see—” Dr. Tanner broke off, but then said, as if choosing her words carefully, “For someone in Jenna’s position, the only option remaining would be a bone marrow transplant. But as I said—”

“Jenna isn’t a candidate for that procedure. Because...?” Cole refused to back down. Come on. Surely she had to see this was bigger than one patient’s medical files.

“A patient like Jenna,” Dr. Tanner clarified, “would need to pass certain medical tests, including stabilized iron levels, to make sure she’s a viable candidate. The toll a transplant takes on the body, the recovery period... We have to give them the best chance.”

“And people with PNH tend to have very low iron levels, don’t they?” Jack asked.

“That’s why he’s taking them,” Cole said. “He’s using their blood to boost her numbers.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Dr. Tanner protested. “What you’re talking about is extreme medicine. Unregulated. Unprescribed. Regular transfusions are one thing, but mostly patients who are low in iron get their numbers boosted from supplements and dietary changes. As far as I’m aware, there’s absolutely no evidence...”

“You say that as if we’re dealing with someone in their right mind,” Jack reminded her. “If all those treatments have failed, what would be left other than extremes or even untested theories?”

“Think this through, Doctor,” Cole said sternly, seeking her attention again. “Jenna needs a bone marrow transplant, but you can’t give her one because her tests don’t pass muster. She needs more blood, better blood, iron-saturated blood, to boost those numbers to qualify.”

“There are many factors to take into consideration—”

“She has a twin brother.” Cole switched over to Jack since he didn’t expect to get any more answers from Dr. Tanner. “Doesn’t get much closer than that for bone marrow, does it? Get her iron levels up, she can get her transplant. Except what the good doctor here said is probably right. It’s not working. Not the way he needs it to.”

“Tell me something.” Jack walked over and planted his hands on Dr. Tanner’s desk, angling his chin until the doctor had no choice but to meet his gaze. “When did you deny Jenna’s transplant?”

“I’d have to check our records—”

“I’m guessing three years ago,” Cole said in reference to when the killings had started. “The same time she ceased being your patient.”

“The choice to discontinue her treatment was mutual,” Dr. Tanner said. “She understood we couldn’t help her any longer.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she did.” Cole got to his feet. “But I don’t think her brother agreed with you.”

* * *

“Why do I feel as if I’ve taken my life into my hands by bringing you with me?” Tires ground against gravel as Agent Simmons pulled into Cooper’s Specialty Vehicles off El Camino and parked. He double-checked his holstered weapon under his suit jacket.

“Look at it this way.” Eden eyed the shack-like office surrounded by all sorts of vans, buses and trucks. “You promised Cole you wouldn’t let me out of your sight. You’re just keeping your word. And besides, it’s essentially a used-car lot.”

“One of the only dealerships in Northern California that handles specialty vehicles.”

“Ah, but they’ve sold at least a dozen in the last three years. I’ll take odds our guy bought here.”

“Providing our guy really is Hector Batsakis.” His guarded tone told her he wasn’t getting his hopes up.

“The evidence is mounting,” Eden murmured, glancing down at the file in her lap. “He dropped out of medical school six years ago, citing family issues. Since then he’s become a licensed phlebotomist and works as a substitute lab technician all around Sacramento, Davis and Stockton. He also applied for a class B driver’s license eighteen months ago.” She narrowed her eyes and stared into the face of Jenna Batsakis’s brother. She could see the similarity for sure, with the big, wide eyes and generous smile, though Hector had sandy-blond hair. But Allie had suggested the suspect would look pretty ordinary. Although...something familiar poked at the back of her memory.

“All that is circumstantial, including that he can drive a bus. He could be driving a van, for all we know.”

“See, this is where you and I can part ways. My hands aren’t tied by all those pesky rules and regulations like you and Cole.” She shoved open the door to the car. “And I’ll bet you twenty bucks he bought a bus.”

“Laws aren’t pesky and I’m beginning to see why Delaney worries about you.” He grabbed her arm when she started to get out. “You’re here as a courtesy, Eden. It might just be a used-car lot, but this case is anything but typical. You do what I tell you, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted and jumped out before he could reprimand her. She smelled singed coffee, body odor and gasoline the second they set foot through the cracked glass door that was ajar. Breathing through her mouth, she called, “Hello?”

“Be with ya in a sec!” The telltale sound of a toilet flushing echoed through the thin walls. A paunch-heavy middle-aged man wearing a baseball cap eased through from the back office, wiping his hands. “Help ya?”

“Agent Simmons, FBI.” Simmons flashed his badge as he and Eden approached the counter. “This is my consultant, Eden.”

Eden gave him points for not using her full name.

“No kidding?” The man’s eyes lit up like flares in the road. “FBI, really? Wow, okay. Seth Hammits. Nice to meet you, Agent.” He stuck his hand out, not giving Simmons any choice but to shake it. “How can I help?”

“We’re looking for information on one of your customers.”

“Sure. Which one?”

“We’re hoping you can tell us.” Eden leaned her arms on the counter and, for good measure, flipped her hair over her shoulder as she smiled at him. Seth’s eyes glinted. “We suspect he might have bought a vehicle from you in the last couple of years. A big one.”

“This might help.” Simmons plucked Hector’s photo out of the file and placed it in front of Seth. “Take your time. It’s important.”

“Important, huh? Like reward important?”

“If doing the right thing doesn’t work for you, sure. We can talk reward,” Simmons said before Eden could reach across the counter and smack Seth’s greedy little grin. “Information first.”

“I might have sold to him. I’d have to check my files. Couple of years, you say?”

“Let’s start with three.”

“Okay. Okay.” He lumbered over to the metal shelving unit and hauled down a weathered accordion folder. “Lucky for you we don’t get a lot of business. This one here’s for the last five years total.” He started stacking up piles by year.

Eden grabbed for one stack as Simmons took another.

“Hey, now, I don’t know about—”

“The faster we find what we’re looking for, the sooner we’ll be out of here. And the sooner I can forget your business license expired seven months ago.” Simmons pointed to the crooked framed document on the wall next to the cash register.

“Ah, sure. Help yourself, then.” Clearly the threat had also erased Seth’s willingness to help.

Eden skimmed each sales slip, name, vehicle type, license and registration number. Photocopied drivers’ licenses and proofs of insurance were stapled to the back.

“Why do so many people want old ambulances?” Eden wondered out loud.

“A question for another time, I’m sure.” Simmons was almost as quick as her. “Here’s one for a 2004 customized cargo van medical vehicle. Sold to a G. Ellington. Part cash, part trade.”

“Ellington?” Eden snatched up Hector’s file again. “Ellington was his mother’s maiden name.”

“Glen Ellington,” Simmons said. “An alias?”

“Could be. You don’t by chance know what this Glen Ellington traded in exchange, do you, Seth?” Eden asked as Seth spun himself around in what had to be a very sturdy chair.

“Course I do. That eyesore is still sitting in the back of my lot. Converted catering van. Said he got it from a former boss when the business closed down a few years back.”

“What business?”

“Take a look-see yourself. Make a right and keep going. Can’t miss it. Red-and-pink monstrosity. Only gave him five hundred for it and he seemed grateful.”

“Do you have a copy machine?” Simmons asked.

“Did.” Seth glanced behind him to the dust-covered photocopier. “Broke a few months back.”

“Then we’re keeping this.” Simmons added the sales receipt to Hector’s file and followed Eden outside as she greedily sucked in fresh air.

“Turn right where?” she muttered as they clomped through puddles of what she told herself was rain runoff. Most of the vehicles up front were in fairly decent condition. Clearly Seth hoped to actually sell them. But the farther back they went, the more it felt like a junkyard. “Here it is.”

She jogged over to what indeed was a metal eyesore with an enormous pair of hearts mingling on the side panel. “Hearts Aligned Catering. Wait a minute.” She skimmed her fingers across the small print under the business name on the side of the vehicle. “It lists three locations, but this address.” She pulled out her phone and accessed the notes she kept on the Iceman’s killings. “That’s only a few blocks from where the third victim was found. Didn’t Hector’s file say he worked in food service during high school and part of college?”

“Sure did.”

“And here.” She tapped her finger against the van. “That’s a location we haven’t seen before. How much do you want to bet that building has an industrial-sized freezer.”

“You and your bets.” Simmons pulled out his phone and motioned for her to follow him to the car. “Hello, Lieutenant Santos, it’s Simmons. Eden and I found—” He stopped, closed his eyes and nodded. “Sure. Okay. Just a minute.” He held out his phone. “Cole wants to talk to you.”

Eden scowled and braced herself. “Hey, Cole.”

“I’m not even going to ask how you talked Agent Simmons into taking you with him.”

“Because I told him if he didn’t I’d just Uber it behind him. How did things go with Dr. Tanner?” She jumped into the car beside Simmons.

“Productive. I’ll be happy to fill you in once you’re back at the station.”

“We have a stop to make first.”

“No, we don’t,” Simmons said loud enough for Cole to hear.

“Batsakis used to work for a catering company. Up until a few years ago, there were three different locations servicing the Sacramento area. One off Watt Avenue, which is near where both Elliot Scarbrough’s and Pam Norris’s bodies were discovered. Another was in West Sac—”

“Let me guess,” Cole drawled. “The warehouse where we found you.”

“Right.” She resisted the urge to shiver. “Agent Simmons and I just found a third location off Highway 16 and Sloughhouse. We’re headed out there now.” She swore she could hear him counting to ten.

“Sloughhouse has its own sheriff’s department, Eden,” Cole said. “We’ll need to coordinate with them—”

“Then coordinate,” she interrupted before giving him the address. “We’ll meet you there.”

“Eden, don’t you dare—”

She hung up. “They’re on their way,” Eden told Simmons. “Better get a move on, Agent. We’re losing daylight.”

* * *

“I’m not going in there without backup.” Simmons activated the child-lock button to stop Eden from getting out of the car. “And you’re not going in there at all.”

“What are the chances anyone is in there, anyway?” she asked. What were the chances anyone was anywhere in the Sacramento suburb known for its extensive property lines and low population?

The deserted single-story warehouse—one of half a dozen scattered up and down the road—had been overrun with anemic trees, weeds and the barest idea of shrubbery. Even from where they’d parked across the highway, Eden could see the parking lot cement had cracked, as had the foundation of the poorly roofed structure. Several broken windows hadn’t been boarded up.

Before they’d hit the dead zone that was this section of Sloughhouse, she’d managed to find out on her cell that the property and surrounding buildings had been in foreclosure for almost as long as Hearts Aligned Catering had been out of business. “Seems the perfect place for a serial killer to hole up,” Eden murmured. “We could walk around, just to make sure it’s empty.”

“Could,” Simmons said, glancing down the road to where a large truck had pulled into an auto supply warehouse. “We won’t. Cole warned me you’d try something like this. He said common sense tends to vanish when you’re close to getting an answer—”

“It does not!” She just tended to lose her patience with all the formalities that Cole and his fellow law-enforcement buddies had to put up with.

“Good. Then waiting for Cole and the rest of the team isn’t an issue. Besides, I’m not about to put you in any kind of jeopardy, real or potential. The last thing I need is to get into a knock-down-drag-out with your boyfriend.” He twisted his wedding band in that nervous habit she’d noticed.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Calling Cole that didn’t sit right with her. But not for the reason some might have thought. Because he felt like...more. She chewed on her nearly nonexistent thumbnail. Yeah, she’d much rather stalk a serial killer than discuss...this.

“Please.” Simmons grinned. “The two of you give off more heat than a nuclear reactor. Everyone in the station is talking about it, so get used to it.” He twisted round in his seat to look at her. “He’s your boyfriend.”

She made a face at him and tried to deflect. “I’m pretty sure I had this recurring nightmare in high school.” Her cheeks went hot and she willed Cole and the patrol cars to drive faster. “Except I was naked and giving a speech.”

“You know the one thing I miss most since my separation?” Simmons’s wistful tone sank into her. “Being happy. Looking forward to going home. Now all I have are boxes and memories.”

Eden thought back to her own boxes and memories. Funny. The instant she heard the word home spoken, it wasn’t her town house she thought of.

It was Cole’s boat.

That unease she’d been avoiding circled low in her belly. “What happened with your wife?” she asked him.

“Denise’s murder.” It took a moment for him to continue, as if he didn’t want to put it into words. “I couldn’t let it go. Accessed files I shouldn’t have. Pushed where I didn’t have a right to, as you well know. My fellow agents lost faith in me. They stopped wanting to work with me. I ended up on a desk. Then in the bottom of a bottle.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a poker chip. “Six months sober.” He twirled it in his fingers. “Figured I’d give it a full year before I tried to fix things with her. If that’s even possible.” Regret and resignation mingled in his voice.

“What’s her name?”

“Suzanna.”

“Kids?”

“Never seemed to be time.” Simmons glanced over at her. “For me. Biggest mistake I made, giving up. I didn’t even fight when she told me to leave, but I couldn’t stop thinking here I was, an FBI agent, and I couldn’t find the maniac who murdered my baby sister.”

Eden reached over and closed his hand around the chip. “We’ll find him. And then you’ll call Suzanna and go home.”

“It’s too late for me, Eden.”

“You love her. It’s never too late to fight for her. So fight. Speaking of fighting...” Even Cole’s car seemed angry when it pulled up and parked hood to hood with Simmons’s. “Will you let me out now?”

The lock clicked.

“Before you get upset—” Eden called out to Cole as she approached him.

“Why would I be upset?” Cole asked, casting a look as a Sloughhouse sheriff’s vehicle parked behind him. “It’s not like you’re out and about chasing after a murderer who left you strung up in a freezer.”

Allie got out of the passenger seat of his car, dressed in a shade of green that reminded Eden of the moss that grew on her roof during the winter.

Suddenly uncertain, Eden managed, “I had protection.” Which she was thinking she might need from Cole about now.

“Like I promised, she was never out of my sight,” Simmons said as he joined them. Jack brought up the rear as two more patrol cars arrived. “And I locked her in the car until you got here.”

“Nice to know you didn’t let her drive you completely off the rails. Sorry she talked you into this,” Cole said.

“You’d think I was a toddler who escaped the playpen,” Eden scoffed. “Allie, tell them—”

“I’m here to keep track of you while they do their jobs.” Her friend locked her hand around Eden’s wrist. “Should I ask Cole for his handcuffs?”

“Oh, please.” Eden laughed. “It’s not like he’s going to be in there.”

“You don’t know what is going on in there, Eden. We could find a dozen more bodies or I might get creative and lock you in the deep freeze myself.” Cole moved in, loomed over her, and only then did she see the specter of worry hovering in his eyes. She’d scared him. Again. “Now, please get in the car and stay with Allie while we check things out. Do you hear me?”

“Would you like me to bow and kiss your feet before you go?” she snapped.

“In the car,” Allie ordered and moved in between them. Eden couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Allie sound so cold.

“Wait—”

But Allie had already shoved her inside the vehicle. The door slammed and she found herself in complete silence. Allie circled around the SUV and got in on the other side, while Cole, Jack, Simmons and the officers finalized their plan with elaborate hand gestures.

“He cares about you, Eden.” Allie sounded frustrated; her friend never usually sounded that way. “You should have seen the look on his face when he got to the station and you were gone. It didn’t help that you didn’t even tell me where you were going.”

“It was a last-minute idea.” Eden folded her hands in her lap. “And I know he cares about me.” She almost wished she didn’t. “He said he’s in love with me.”

“And?”

“And? And what?” How did Allie not see what a disaster this was? How could she not understand that Cole Delaney loving her was the worst-possible news? “That’s enough, isn’t it? Well, along with the marathon sex session—”

“Do I look like I’m in the mood for girl talk?” Allie’s clipped tone did nothing to erase Eden’s fear. “Let’s pretend for one minute you actually have feelings, shall we? I know I’m usually the touchy-feely one, the one you’re afraid will read too much into things and tell you why you feel and think the way you do. But tough. You’re pretending that this isn’t anything more than a fling with Cole when we both know it’s more. Stop. It’s cruel. He loves you, Eden. He’s in love with you. And you’re treating it as if it’s a joke.”

“I am not.” She just didn’t want it to be real. Because when things got real...people got hurt.

“Tell me you aren’t already thinking of how to drive him away. To convince him what he’s feeling is adrenaline. That you’re not terrified of being happy.”

“How can any of us be happy?” Eden demanded. “We know the evil that’s out there, how fast life can be taken away. Simone couldn’t be happy with Vince and it’s not like you’ve found Prince Charming even with your cartoon-princess aura.”

The silence pressed in on Eden, forcing her heart open in a way she’d tried to prevent for almost two decades. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s not the first time you’ve hurt my feelings. It won’t be the last. And I’m perfectly happy with my cartoon-princess aura, thank you very much.”

Eden shook her head. “Why can’t you ever punch back at me? Why do you have to always be so fair and logical?”

“Because fairness, logic and love don’t always go hand in hand. Something I’m sure Cole is struggling with at the moment. You need to talk to him about this, Eden. You need to tell him what you’re feeling.”

“I can’t. I can’t love him, Allie.” How she hated the tears that burned her throat and eyes. They were a sign of weakness, of a loss of control. And Eden needed to stay in control. “Because if I do...whoever I love...they die.” Her heart jumped into her throat as she watched Cole and his fellow officers surround the building, weapons out. She looked at Allie, silently willing her friend to understand what she couldn’t.

Allie’s expression softened beneath her black crop of hair, as if she’d been pushing for just this reaction.

“People leave me,” Eden whispered. “Chloe. Mom and Dad. Logan. Everyone leaves me. And I’ve just found it’s easier if I leave them first.”

“Easier on whom?” Allie asked. “News flash, Eden. It’s been twenty years and Simone and I are still here, so consider that theory disproved. You can push as hard as you want—we aren’t going anywhere.” She stroked Eden’s hair. “I hate to break it to you, but neither is Cole.” She scooted toward Eden and drew her head onto her shoulder.

“It’s my fault,” Eden said softly.

“What? Antagonizing Cole? Well, yeah.” Allie laughed. “But you do it with such panache.”

“Not Cole.” It took every ounce of air in her body to set the words free. “Chloe. It’s my fault she’s dead.” She squeezed her eyes shut as Allie’s body went stiff. It was too late to stop now. All these years...all this time, the paralyzing guilt had built inside of her, the fear someone was going to learn her secret—that it was her fault a nine-year-old girl was dead. The truth spilled out. “After we all went to bed, after we thought we were so grown-up because we went camping in Simone’s backyard.”

“That backyard was over fifteen acres of wild trees and grass,” Allie said. “Any one of us could have gotten lost. It’s why we had the buddy—”

“I was her buddy, remember? She woke me up so I could go with her to the bathroom, but I told her to go by herself.” The sob erupted deep from Eden’s heart. A sob that she’d been keeping at bay for two decades. “I was so selfish. I told her to stop whining and just go. And I went back to sleep.”

“Oh, Eden.” Allie hugged her. “Why didn’t you ever tell us?”

“How could I? Every night I wish myself back there. I want another chance to be a good friend. I want to go with her, so she’ll come back. So she’ll be alive.” So she and her friends could live a life that wasn’t inundated with killers and darkness.

“We can’t do that,” Allie said. “I know because I’ve tried, too. But it wasn’t your fault, Eden. We were nine years old. And while you might have cornered the market on it, we were all selfish and bratty. Chloe wandered and got lost, and unfortunately, someone found her. I don’t know a lot, Eden, but I am sure of one thing. If you had been with her, Eden, you’d be dead, too.”

“I know.” Eden hesitated. She’d gone this far. What was one more step? “And sometimes I think I should be.”

Bang! Bang, bang!

Eden shoved Allie away. “Cole.”

“No, Eden. Wait!” Allie grabbed for her, but Eden was out of the car before her friend could stop her. It wasn’t until she reached the front door of the warehouse that Eden realized what she’d done. What she’d always done. She’d acted without thinking.

Heart pounding, she pressed her back against the wall. She could see Allie across the road, gesturing madly for her to come back. Eden shook her head. Better to stay where she was, out of the line of fire. She ducked down and scooted along the wall under the large window to the corner of the building. She could hear shouts and muted orders echoing from inside the warehouse.

Eden’s feet crunched in the broken glass strewn with chunks of drywall and concrete. Had they lucked out again? Had they cornered him? Was the Iceman inside? Had they stopped him before he could kill Jeff Cottswold?

Another inch to the left and she’d have cover. Slowly, she gripped the wall and pushed herself up to check around the corner.

Allie screamed her name as an arm locked around Eden’s throat.

The few seconds it took for her to realize what was happening felt like hours. She sucked in a breath, smelled sweat and damp, alcohol and filth. She drew her arm forward, jabbing with her elbow. Ten years of self-defense classes had finally paid off. She made solid contact with his sternum as she kicked back with her left foot, catching him in the shin.

He grunted, gasped for air as he threw her to the ground. Glass gouged into her palms and knees. Another figure then leaped into view, coming to Eden’s defense.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t seem to even shout for help. Suddenly, a glint of metal flashed as her attacker extended his arm at her protector.

Something sprayed across her face. Eden had shut her eyes, but now she swiped at her cheeks and heard the distinctive thud of a body hitting the ground.

The hulking hooded figure darted into the thick brush.

Eden pushed herself up. “No.” Her heart stopped. Agent Simmons clutched a hand against the blood at his throat. “No, no, no.” She scrambled to her feet and ripped her jacket off, pressing it to the gaping wound. She pried his hand free and used all of her weight to stem the streaming flow of blood. “Someone call an ambulance!” she hollered as she spotted people emerging from the building.

“Where did he go?” Jack yelled as he and the others came running.

“There!” Eden jerked her chin over her shoulder as she focused on Simmons.

“Eden?” Cole dropped down beside her, gun drawn, but she didn’t give him more than a glance as she stared into Anthony Simmons’s eyes. “Ah, man. Bowie! EMTs now! Allie! We need you! Hang in there, buddy. Agent Simmons, can you hear me?”

“Don’t you die on me,” Eden ordered, dismissing the glassy, vacant stare that dropped over Anthony’s face. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“Fight.” The raspy gurgle in Simmons’s voice was the sound nightmares were made of. “You. Fight.” He dropped a hand on Cole’s as he added more pressure to Eden’s.

“Suzanna needs you,” Eden sobbed. “Don’t leave her.” Don’t leave me. She couldn’t take another death on her hands. Another life lost...

“Suzanna...” His eyes closed.

Not again. Not someone else. Not because of her. “Where’s that ambulance?” Eden screamed.

* * *

Eden sat, clutching Allie’s hand in the emergency room’s waiting area. She barely noticed Cole and Lieutenant Santos speaking with a scrubs-clad doctor. Ghostly murmurs and solemn nods robbed her of her words. It didn’t matter how many times she replayed things in her mind, the result was always the same.

“You should let someone take a look at you,” Allie said.

Eden shook her head. The main doors slid open and a flash of white darted toward them.

“I keep telling myself I’m going to get used to getting these calls,” Simone said as she dropped down in front of Eden and rested her hands on her knees. “Are you okay?”

Eden nodded. Blood covered her hands, still streaked her face. She hadn’t let anyone come near her, not when Agent Simmons should be their focus. She didn’t matter.

“It’s my fault,” she whispered as if nobody else knew. “All I could think about was getting to Cole and I didn’t think—”

“You sure didn’t.” Cole’s voice whipped through her.

Eden flinched.

“How’s Agent Simmons?” Allie asked as Simone rotated so she could look at Cole.

“He’s alive. Barely. They asked about next of kin—”

“His wife’s name is Suzanna,” Eden said after clearing her throat. “They’re separated but...” She pressed a fist against her heart. “He was hoping they’d get back together.”

“Let’s hope he gets the opportunity,” Cole said. His tone shifted. “On the bright side, congratulations, Eden. You were one hundred percent right. Batsakis had turned his previous place of employ into some kind of medical facility, right down to the plastic strip curtains fit for a serial killer. Microscopes, blood bags, IVs, you name it. Given what we found, I’m guessing he’s been using it from the beginning.”

“And Batsakis?” Eden tried to ignore the detachment in his voice. “Did you get him?”

“The man at the warehouse wasn’t Hector Batsakis.”

Eden’s head shot up. “Then who—”

“Near as we can tell, he’s a vagrant Batsakis had hired to keep an eye on the place. Not that we can get a coherent statement out of him at the moment. He’s in shock.”

“Eden’s fine, by the way,” Allie said. “In case you were wondering.”

“No surprise. Eden always comes through unscathed, doesn’t she?”

Simone got to her feet, but Eden quickly reached out, took hold of her hand and squeezed. “Leave it,” she whispered.

“What were you thinking?” Cole blasted loud enough to catch the attention of the emergency room staff and waiting patients. “What part of wait in the car did you not understand?”

“I—” She what? She’d barreled into a situation she had no business being a part of because she was scared for Cole? Because she realized she didn’t want anything to happen to him before she had the chance to tell him...before she could admit to herself...

Eden took a shuddering breath. For the longest moment of her life, she thought she’d lost him, but here he was. Standing in front of her. Still alive. Furious, but still alive. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Well, bravo. You finally get it.” Cole’s voice didn’t dim. If anything, it got louder. “But how many people have had to get hurt or die before you figured out you’re not the only person in the world? What was it, Eden? Still chasing your headlines? Needed to get a firsthand look at the connection you’d uncovered? Afraid someone else might get credit for what you shouldn’t be doing in the first place? Whatever it takes to catch your killer, right? No matter who gets hit in the cross fire.”

“That’s enough, Cole.” Now it was Allie rising to her defense, but again, all Eden could do was grip her friends’ hands tighter. “I know you’re angry, but that’s no reason—”

“He’s right.” Eden blinked and sent tears scurrying down her cheeks through Simmons’s blood. “This is my fault.” Eden realized Allie couldn’t argue with her because she knew Eden was right.

“Detective?” Lieutenant Santos called him over as Jack and Bowie entered through the same door Simone had.

“What right does he have to attack you?” Simone dropped into the chair on the other side of Eden and wrapped her arm around Eden’s shoulders. “Doesn’t he see what you’re going—”

“He has every right.” Suddenly, she understood what Simmons had been saying back in the car. Suddenly, she realized how little fight she had left in her. “I put them all at risk because—”

“Because you thought Cole was about to get his head blown off,” Allie said. “I don’t blame you—”

“So I, what? Ran into the line of fire? I ran toward the bullets, Allie. I didn’t even stop to think about any consequences.” What did that say about her? “Well? Is that guy talking yet? The one you did catch,” Eden asked Jack as he headed over to Cole and the lieutenant.

Jack hesitated, cringing slightly as he detoured for her. “Talking, yes. Making sense? Not really. From what we can gather and what we found of his in the warehouse, he’s a vagrant who’d been paid to hang around the building. He was also told the government was staking the place out and he should do whatever was necessary to get away should anyone ever try to enter.”

“The mentally ill often make for convenient scapegoats,” Allie said, as she rubbed Eden’s arm.

“True enough. We’re processing him now, but honestly, he’s not going to give us anything useful. He’s already muttering about his archangel and being on a secret mission from the stars.” Jack brushed a comforting hand over Eden’s shoulders. “Hang in there.”

“Easy for him to say,” Simone said, dropping Eden’s hand. “You want coffee? I need coffee.” She searched the signage. “Where’s the coffee?”

“Uh-huh, caffeine’s what you need,” Allie said. “Cafeteria is that way.” She motioned down the hallway. “Come on. We’ll all go.”

“I want to clean up some,” Eden said, as she stood on wobbly knees and moved toward the bathroom. She wanted—she needed—to wash the blood off her hands. “But I’d appreciate a cup.”

“You got it. Back in five.” Allie and Simone hurried off, but not before, Eden noticed, Simone shot Cole one of the nastiest looks she’d ever seen on her friend’s face.

The creak of the bathroom door felt almost welcoming as she went directly to the sink. She turned on the water, braced her hands on the porcelain and dropped her chin. She couldn’t get the sound of Simmons struggling for breath out of her mind; couldn’t stop seeing, feeling, that spray of his blood as it spilled onto the ground.

Eden pushed a handful of soap from the dispenser, scrubbing her hands so hard they hurt; blood-tinged water circling the drain. She grabbed paper towels and tried to clean her face, saw streaks of thick blood in her hair. Looked in the mirror and saw it spattered on her shirt. A sob caught in her throat.

The door opened and shattered her solitude.

Cole walked in, his face even more stony than before.

Eden felt herself go cold. “Is he—”

“Still in surgery.” Cole pushed the door closed and leaned against it. “I’m sending you home, Eden. There’s a patrol car waiting to take you back to the town house. They’ll park outside, until they’re relieved at midnight, at which time another team will take their place.”

The town house? Not the boat? Not... “I thought maybe I’d go back to the station—”

“You thought wrong.”

“I know I screwed up.” The words erupted before she realized she’d said them. “I know this is all my fault.” He’d been about to leave, but he froze. She’d wanted to explain, to make him understand, but as he turned and looked at her, it took every ounce of courage she possessed to meet his hostile gaze.

“Screwed up? There’s an agent fighting for his life because you couldn’t do the one thing I asked. One thing, Eden! Now on top of trying to find the Iceman before he kills his latest victim, we’ve got the FBI demanding to know why a civilian got one of their agents severely injured, not to mention the start of an internal-affairs investigation once word gets out about the total fiasco at the warehouse. So yeah, you screwed up. And once again, someone else is paying for it.”

“Sequestering me isn’t going to fix any of it.” She’d been wrong earlier. She did have some fight left. If she’d destroyed whatever feelings he’d had for her, fine, but she wasn’t going to let their relationship die in vain. “I didn’t do this on purpose. And I didn’t do it for the fame or for the blog or to even catch the Iceman in flagrante. I got scared for you. I made a mistake. And I didn’t for one second believe Agent Simmons was going to pay for it.” She didn’t think anyone would have to.

“Yeah, well, he’s not the only one. We went out on a limb for you, Eden. Me, the lieutenant, Jack and half a dozen patrol officers. Now we’ll be lucky if they even let us keep the case.”

“Sounds like you’re more worried about that than the case.” Eden scrubbed a wet paper towel over her shirt. “Guess we’re both pretty messed up, then.”

“For once in your life, do as I say and go home. It’s for your own safety.”

“Just because we slept together doesn’t mean you get to control me, Cole. As you said, I’m a private citizen. I can go and do whatever I want.” And what she wanted right now, more than anything, was to put this case to bed and the Iceman behind her.

Cole stalked over to her. His look of fury she’d never seen before. “Do you have any idea what it felt like for me to hear Allie scream your name at that warehouse after I heard those shots? To realize you’d put yourself in the middle of everything yet again? You’re reckless, Eden. You’re dangerous, and after today, I’m convinced you’re out of control. You don’t care about anyone other than yourself, what you want. What Eden needs. You want to do something to help? Then listen to this. You are done with this investigation. You will go home. You will lock your doors. You will bury yourself in that mausoleum of a basement of yours and not poke your head out until I’m convinced it’s safe for you to do so. Do you understand me?” He gripped her shoulders hard for a second before he pushed away and walked out of the bathroom.

Eden looked at herself in the mirror, his words ringing in her ears. Yes, she’d heard him. And yes, she understood.

But she wasn’t done. Not with this case. Not with the Iceman. And she wasn’t about to sit around waiting to hear someone else she did care about—another friend—had died. This wasn’t about ego. There was no pride involved. She’d made a promise when hanging in that freezer—to herself and to the victims and their families.

She was going to do whatever it took to find Hector Batsakis and stop the Iceman once and for all.

* * *

“McTavish here is heading to the station in a few moments,” Lieutenant Santos told Cole when he rejoined them in the hospital waiting room. Cole was wound so tight, one wrong look—from anyone—and he was going to spring apart. “He’s getting statements ready about the warehouse incident. He’ll hand them over to Internal Affairs. And you should go home.”

“I’m staying here.” Cole wasn’t about to leave until he knew one way or the other. “Simmons took on Eden because I asked him to.”

“We all took on Eden,” Jack said. “No one could have predicted what happened out there, Cole.”

“I could have. I should have.” In fact, he never should have agreed to let her on the case, but at the time, he’d needed to keep an eye on her. To stay close to her. Because he’d been terrified of losing her.

Instead an FBI agent could lose his life and the Iceman might claim another victim.

“No wonder you and Eden get on so well. You both suffer the same martyr complex,” Jack said.

Allie and Simone rounded the corner carrying trays with cups of coffee.

“Take your pick—it’s all bad.” Simone started handing out the coffee to the officers keeping vigil. She looked around. “Where’s Eden?”

“I sent her home.” He frowned when Allie snatched his cup away.

“How very gallant of you,” Simone said, in a tone that had him wanting to protect his man parts. “Make it a habit of kicking a girl when she’s down, do you?”

“Maybe if she stayed put we’d have fewer problems like this.” Simone with her claws out. Great. The day just kept getting better.

“Right. I’m going to leave before this turns nasty.” Jack gave them all a salute with his coffee and headed out. “See ya back at the station.”

“Do you think Eden doesn’t know what she’s responsible for, Cole?” Allie asked him. “Or were you not paying attention? She’s devastated by what happened.”

“I can’t care about that right now.” He had to focus on what he could control. His job. The case. His team. Then he’d worry about Eden’s hurt feelings.

“Well, you should.” Allie poked a finger hard into his chest. “You should have seen her face when those shots rang out from inside the warehouse. She thought you were hurt, Cole. You were all she cared about.”

Cole froze. “What shots from the warehouse?”

“Yes, what shots?” Lieutenant Santos moved in, as did Simone. “You said none of you fired your weapons.”

“We didn’t. Bowie? Nelson?” Cole waved the two uniforms over. “Did any officers fire their weapons inside the warehouse?”

“No, sir.” Nelson, ginger hair shining under the hospital lights, held his cap in his hands. “Near as we could tell, they came from outside.”

“That’s where we headed when we heard them,” Bowie confirmed. “Simmons got there first.”

“I want everyone who was on that call to turn their weapons in for testing,” Santos said. “I want this by the book for when IA comes to investigate.”

“Wait a minute.” Simone held up her free hand. “You’re saying that someone outside the warehouse fired shots to make it sound like they were from inside? Who would do that? And why?”

“It doesn’t make any sense. I was there, and if you’d asked, I’d have agreed with Eden. Those shots came from inside. I can’t even remember seeing anyone around. But now...” Allie trailed off.

Every word Cole spewed at Eden slammed back on him with a vengeance. “This wasn’t an accident. And it wasn’t a mistake. Somebody wanted Eden in the line of fire. They wanted her there when we drove Batsakis’s watchman outside. Someone who knows Eden. Knows how she’d react.”

“This wasn’t Eden’s fault,” Allie said. “Not all her fault.”

Simone pointed a finger at him. “We all know what Eden does when someone she cares about is in trouble. She leaps first and worries about the fall later. So I ask again...where’s Eden?”

* * *

“Ma’am, our orders from Detective Delaney were clear. We’re to drive you directly to your house and stay until we’re relieved.”

“Officer Pearson, isn’t it?” Eden scooted forward in the back of the patrol car. She should feel honored. Most officers didn’t have partners, but somehow she’d managed to warrant two escorts. “And, Castillo?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The young woman in the passenger seat gave her partner an uneasy look from beneath the visor of her cap. Her nose had a light dusting of freckles that added to her youthful appearance.

“Tell you what’s going to happen if you do as Cole told you,” Eden said. “You’ll drive me home and I’ll go in the front door. Wait a few minutes and after which, I’ll go out the back door, get into my car and drive to the station myself. At some point, someone in the department is going to notify Detective Delaney that you didn’t do what you were supposed to. So.” She rapped her knuckle on the metal divider. “We can either do this together or me on my own. Your choice.”

“Nothing at the academy prepared us for this,” Castillo muttered. “I say get her to the station and let the detectives in Major Crimes deal with her.”

Pearson gave a curt nod.

“Smart.” Eden sat back and pulled out her phone as it buzzed for the fifth time in as many minutes. Allie again. No, Simone. She flicked through her missed calls. Nope. Not going to happen.

She wasn’t putting anyone else at risk.

Eden turned off her phone and rode the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

“What do you mean she’s not answering her phone?” Cole demanded, as Allie hung up again.

“Gee, I can’t imagine why she might want some alone time,” Allie mused. “It’s not as if the one person she trusts more than anybody embarrassed her in public and then dismissed her.”

Cole shook his head. When was this nightmare going to end? He glanced over to where the lieutenant was on his phone. “She doesn’t—”

“Why do you think she flew out of that car? I swear, Cole, for someone who’s as bright as you are, sometimes you have the brain of a gnat. Because she thought you were hurt. Because she was afraid she wouldn’t get the chance to tell you how she feels about you before you go and die on her. Which is what she thinks everyone she loves is going to do, by the way. And who can blame her, with everyone she’s lost?”

“Hallelujah. You actually got her to talk about it,” Simone said. “That’s going to entail a couple of bottles of the good stuff. So where would she have gone?”

“I had two patrol officers drive her to the town house.”

“Terrific. We’ll head there. You go—” Allie waved her hand in the air “—wherever you think is best.”

“Passive-aggressive,” Simone said. “I’m impressed.”

“I’m not.” Cole frowned. “Look, even Eden isn’t crazy enough to...” Now it was his turn to trail off as her two best friends turned disbelieving expressions on him. “Yeah, never mind.”

“Detective Delaney? Lieutenant Santos?” Dr. Inari, whom they’d spoken with earlier, approached and waved them over. “Agent Simmons has been stabilized for now. He’ll need more surgery, but given the amount of blood he’s lost, we want to wait until he’s stronger before we proceed. We’ve put him into a medically induced coma.”

“He’s going to be okay, then?” Cole felt as if a two-ton boulder had been lifted off his chest.

“He’s done better than we expected. That’s all I’m comfortable saying at this moment.”

“His wife is flying in from New York,” Lieutenant Santos said. “She’ll be here by morning. You.” He pointed at Cole once the doctor left. “Tammy called from the warehouse. She found something she thinks you need to see. Since you’re insisting on not going home, this seems like the perfect option for you to clear your head and deal with whatever anger you’ve got going on. Detectives Sutherland and Ramirez should be on site in the next hour. You can then turn the scene over to them.”

“Yes, sir.” As anxious as Cole was to make things up to Eden, the lieutenant was right. He wasn’t in the best frame of mind. He hoped Allie and Simone would still help him out. “Would you two—”

“We’ll meet you at Eden’s.” Allie nodded.

* * *

Clearing his head involved Cole rolling down the windows and turning the radio’s volume up to full blast. Classic ’70s rock blared through his head like a scouring brush.

He was closing in on the Sloughhouse warehouse off Highway 16 when his phone rang. “Delaney, go.”

“Detective Delaney? It’s Jenna Batsakis.”

“Jenna?” Cole strained to hear her. Stupid dead zones. He made a right turn and sped up. “What’s going on?”

“It’s...out...my...rother.”

His brain filled in the blanks. Even though he knew about the siblings, he said, “Your brother? But you told us you don’t have any relatives, Jenna.” He yelled in case she couldn’t hear him. “I don’t like being lied to.”

“I...sorry. But he’s...family...left. Scared, Detective. Hector’s in...basement, where...told me...treatments...approved. I—I think he has someone with him. I...yelling. Can...come?”

He quickly pulled over so he could make a U-turn. “You’re just off Zinfandel, correct?”

“That...our mother’s house. I moved downtown...closer to the community center. It’s off B Street.” He barely caught the street number.

“I’m on my way, Jenna. Can you get out of the house?”

“He’ll know...wrong if...do. Might leave.”

Who knew what her brother would do if he felt backed into a corner. “Okay, keep your phone on you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He waited until he was back on 16 before he dialed Jack. Flipping the siren on in his car, he barreled through a red light, ignoring the horns and screech of tires as he headed downtown. “Yeah, Jack. It’s me,” Cole shouted into the voice mail. “Jenna Batsakis just called. Said her brother’s in the basement doing something weird. I’m going over to...” He recited the address. “Send a couple of backup units and have an ambulance standing by. I think he’s got Jeff Cottswold with him.”

* * *

“What are you doing here, Eden?” Jack’s exhausted voice bounced off her adrenaline-boosted system. “I thought Cole sent you home.”

“Don’t worry, I kept the bodyguards.” She sorted through stacks and stacks of receipts and paperwork from the various victims. Nothing like having two pairs of eyes watching every move she made. “There has to be something here with that logo I remember seeing on the bus.”

“The logo again?” Jack set his coffee down and circled the table. “You don’t think we’re past that now, since we’ve got Batsakis’s warehouse in lockdown?”

“That’s my point. If you guys have run him to ground, he doesn’t have many places left to hide, does he? And that bus, coach, mobile blood bank thingy he drives around in is the best place to start.”

“I must be getting used to you because that actually made sense. Tell me what you’re looking for.”

Frustrated, Eden smacked the stack of papers on the table. Nothing with Pam Norris’s records. “Medical receipts, vouchers, lab results, something that ties our victims to his mobile unit. I usually just chuck mine into a bin on my desk and sort them later.”

“Castillo, Pearson?” Jack called. “Front and center.”

“Sir?” The two officers moved as one, glancing uncertainly at Eden. “We can explain.”

“You don’t have to,” Jack said. “It’s called the Eden St. Claire effect.” He pointed to the papers and receipts. “Each of you take a stack. We’re looking for any kind of medical paperwork, especially if it has a blood-related logo or any related information.”

They each set their caps down on the table and got to work.

“What’s this?” Eden asked two cups of coffee later, when she still hadn’t found anything. A lone worn cardboard box sat on a chair; there were odd scribbles written on its side.

“The hotel Eric DeFornio was staying in kept that box in their storage room when he didn’t come back. Someone made an inventory list, but that’s as far as we’ve gotten so far,” Jack said. “Might want to wear gloves if you’re going to go through it. Lot of meth heads live in that place.”

“I think we’re beyond tetanus concerns at the moment.” Eden dragged the box over to the table and flipped open the lid. The stench of sweat and other things she didn’t want to think about hit her first. She tossed the clothes to the side after going through the pockets. Next, she reached for the coat underneath... “Hang on.” She pulled out a folded-up piece of paper. Computer printout. “Got it.”

“What?” Jack rounded the table.

She smoothed the printout flat, jabbed her finger at the blood drop with a caduceus through its center. “That’s what I saw on the side of the van.” Now that she saw it again, the image crystallized in her memory. “Aesclepius Blood Donations. This address is near Zinfandel Drive. I know that was listed...” She grabbed Hector Batsakis’s file. “Sure. Here it is. The house belonged to his mother.”

“Hold up.” Pearson snatched a photo off one of the boards. “Elliot Scarbrough had a receipt for a mobile blood unit in his office when they searched it.” He tapped his finger against the image of the receipt on Scarbrough’s desk.

“Search every photo from each victim’s home,” Jack ordered. “I want as many of those receipts noted as possible. Castillo, pull up that house on street view.” He leaned over her chair and watched the image come onto the screen. “Single-story structure, center of a cul-de-sac. At least five homes for sale on the same street. No one around to pay much attention to them. I’m calling the lieutenant.”

“I’m going with you, Jack,” Eden said.

“Did today not teach you anything?” Jack blasted. “Seriously?”

“What was I supposed to do when you guys started shooting? Just sit in that car and—”

“When we started shooting?” Jack’s brow knit. “What are you talking about? Those shots came from outside.”

Eden’s brain slowed. “What?” That didn’t follow.

“Hang on.” He held up a hand as he spoke into his phone. “Sir, I need units over at the following address as soon as possible. If Hector’s not there, it might still give us an idea of where he’s gone. Yeah, I’m going there now.” He hesitated and then winced. “Yes, sir. Eden will remain here at the station.” He hung up. “That was from the top, Eden. You stay put.”

“What about Cole? Have you heard from him?” Eden deflected.

“Right.” He punched up his voice mail and listened, worry and irritation flashing across his face. “I can only make out half of what he’s saying. I swear he finds every dead zone in the city. I’ll try calling him on my way.”

“Ma’am?” Castillo started organizing papers once Jack had left. “Can I get you anything?”

Eden sank into the chair, feeling elated at having found the Iceman and possibly saving his latest victim. “I guess I’m stuck here, huh?”

“Or we could take you back to your place,” Pearson offered. “As we were originally ordered.”

“No.” They’d need as much evidence as they could get to use against Batsakis when they finally brought him in. She may as well put her true talents to use and give them a hand with more research. “I’ll help you get all this put into some order, okay? I just want to look up one thing first, though.” She logged in to the nearest laptop and brought up Aesclepius Blood Donations. Then, with a fresh cup of coffee in her hand, she settled in to read every word on their website.

* * *

Cole screeched to a stop in front of the dilapidated house on B Street. Single story, weathered porch, crooked shutters. The lack of activity sent his heartbeat racing. He was used to silence, but this dead-end street held an odd vibe that had every nerve in his body tingling. Why on earth would a young woman like Jenna live here? Keeping his ears open for the sirens—that would be his backup—he got out of the car, unlatched the snap on his holster and headed up the narrow, neglected walk.

The house was old. Creaky, rickety old. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. Something wasn’t right. He didn’t see any sign of a handicapped ramp or railing on the stairs to the porch. Nothing about this house said special needs, and given what he’d seen of Jenna Batsakis, she was in need of help.

Reason battled with concern. He should wait for Jack, but if Jenna was in trouble—

Yeah. Doubt niggled at his mind and he stopped walking.

If she was in trouble. His phone rang.

Cole took a step away. A twig snapped behind him.

He spun, ducking at the last second, as a plank of wood came for his head. It missed. But before he could move again, he felt the smash against his back. He went down, hard and aching, and tried to roll as he caught a glance of a frail young woman in a bright yellow dress. Jenna’s hands trembled around a splintered two-by-four. “Jenna—” he managed before a third swing turned everything black.

* * *

“What’s this?” Eden murmured as she scrolled through the last bit of information on the about page.

“What’s what?” Pearson asked as he finished loading Eric DeFornio’s belongings into the weathered box.

“I pulled up an old newsletter Aesclepius mailed to subscribers...” Her voice trailed off as she opened a new window and typed in the address. “This newsletter has an address I don’t recognize from the case. Huh. It’s an old church.”

“Which one?” Pearson leaned over the back of her chair as Eden clicked through various articles on-screen. “Oh, sure. St. Augustus. One of those full-service churches. Used to have a soup kitchen for the homeless. It was a grammar school at one time, too. Kindergarten through eighth grade. I remember my grandmother talking about it.”

Eden continued to scroll. “According to this article from five years ago, they often hosted blood drives, as well.” That certainly couldn’t be a coincidence.

“St. Augustus closed, what? Three, four years ago?” Castillo wheeled her chair over to them. “There was a rash of assaults in the area. Then a couple of the regulars went missing. City got involved, shut the place down. Wasn’t much holding it together anyway, after Father Gregory passed on.”

Eden and Pearson both looked at the wide-eyed brunette.

“What? I’m Catholic. Churches work as a kind of homing beacon for us.” She grinned. “What’s it got to do with Aesclepius?”

“Don’t know. Did the vehicle Batsakis bought have tracking capability on it?” Eden asked. A coach like that would have a pretty substantial power source.

“Um.” Castillo dug through some documents. “Capable, not activated,” she confirmed.

“Is it something you can activate remotely?”

“Only with a court order through the manufacturer,” Pearson said. “And there’s no one here right now who can call for one.”

“Can you contact Cole and see if he can apply for one? If he needs a DA’s help I can get that.” Eden reached for her phone to call Simone.

“I’ll give him a try,” Pearson agreed.

“Great. Hey, Simone.”

“Where are you?” Simone demanded. “Cole said you were at your house.”

“Change of plans. I’m at the station.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Simone let out a big sigh. “Allie, she’s at the station with Cole. She’s fine.”

“Wait. No.” Eden gripped the edge of the table. “Cole’s not here. I thought he was still at the hospital with you all.”

“We’re not at the hospital. He sent us to your place. Where you’re supposed to be.”

“Then where’s Cole?”

“His lieutenant sent him back to the warehouse to look at some evidence Tammy found. He was going to come by after.” She hesitated. “I have to admit, I thought he’d be here by now.”

Eden’s stomach dropped. She hung up and dialed Tammy, squeezing her eyes shut even as she hoped she was wrong.

“Go for Tammy.” The normally cheery voice had definite dulcet tones.

“Hey, Tam, it’s Eden. Can I talk to Cole? He’s not picking up his cell.” Not that she’d tried to call, given how they’d left things. A problem for another time.

“He’s not with us,” Tammy said. “We’ve got evidence here of a jacked-up electrical system, though. Like Batsakis tried to bypass the regular power source. Maybe he’d hooked up to a portable generator. I wanted Cole to see—”

Eden hung up again, making a mental note to buy the lab tech another bottle of tequila. Or maybe a case. She made one more call. “Jack? Where’s Cole?” she blurted the second he answered. She could barely speak past the catch in her chest.

“Last I saw him he was at the hospital—”

“He’s not. And he’s not at the warehouse, either, and that’s where Simone said he was headed. You can’t decipher the message on your phone?”

“Total loss. Why? What’s going on, Eden?”

“What about the Zinfandel house?”

“We hit an accident on 50. We’re still about five minutes out. I’ll let you know when we—”

Eden shook her head and disconnected.

“You hang up on everyone, or just your friends?” Pearson asked.

“Something’s wrong.” Eden dialed Cole. It went straight to voice mail, as she expected it to. “Even when he’s angry at me he takes the call.” Except this time she’d pushed him too far.

“Now his phone, that I can get a read on,” Castillo said. “We can track all department—”

“Do it,” Eden whispered. Unease gave way to panic. “Where’s Batsakis’s personal file?” She plowed through what was left on the table.

“Here.” Pearson handed the file to her. “I left it on top.”

“Yeah, great.” She flipped the file open and scanned the contents. “Where’s that name...? There.” She jabbed a finger under where it said “education.” “He and his sister attended St. Augustus grammar school on B Street for second through fourth grade. Right before she got pulled for homeschooling.”

“Place is pretty decrepit,” Castillo said. “Street view, here.”

Eden cringed at the crumbling structure. “Is that current?”

“Doubtful,” Pearson replied. “That part of downtown’s pretty dead, so to speak. Can’t imagine they’ve installed cameras.”

“Soup kitchen. Grammar school. Did...?” Eden’s mind raced. “It had a working kitchen, didn’t it? Maybe even a walk-in freezer?”

“I’d imagine so. Not that it would be working now.”

“Hook up a decent generator, though, it wouldn’t be so hard to get it working again,” Castillo said.

“Or you could hook it up to a coach with its own power source,” Eden said. “Tammy told me they suspect he was using a portable power source at the warehouse. Guys, before you say no, I want you to listen to me.”

Castillo and Pearson glanced at each other. Then at her.

“No,” they said in unison.

“Fine,” Eden grumbled as she reached out with her foot to draw her purse closer. “Did you find Cole’s phone yet?”

“No, but if he turned it off, it wouldn’t register anyway.”

“What about his car?”

“He’s been using his personal vehicle the last couple of weeks,” Pearson said. “We don’t track those.”

Eden resisted the urge to scream. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew Cole was in trouble. And there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it, not as long as these two had her under lock and key. An idea caught. A bad—very, very bad—idea. She reached out to grab a bottle of water and twisted off the cap.

“One of you needs to call your lieutenant and tell him about this church. It’s off the radar, it’s abandoned, but it’s the best lead we have. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong.” But she wasn’t. She knew it. “Go!” she said to Pearson and then opened a new document after taking a long drink of water. “I’ll get all my notes down and printed out, so you can add them to the file.”

“O-kay...” Pearson looked uneasy before he turned and walked over to the bull pen to make the call from Cole’s desk.

Eden watched him leave. Her heart pounded in her chest. One down, one to go.

“You know,” Officer Castillo said and scooted her chair closer to the table, “I have to admit, you being a reporter isn’t such a bad thing. You’ve got a good brain. You think like a cop.”

Maybe, Eden considered. But she certainly wasn’t about to act like one. She inched the bottle of water toward the laptop.

“Let’s see if we’re wrong about that street-view camera at the chur— Oh, jeez!” Eden leaped out of her chair as water flooded across the keyboard. “I’m such a klutz!” Sparks exploded from the computer, followed by a hideous pop and sizzle.

“Move!” Officer Castillo pushed Eden out of the way, shoved the bottle across the table and plucked the laptop out of the growing, massive puddle. “Oh, that’s not good.” The smell of smoke permeated the room, making the officer’s eyes water.

“I’ll get paper towels.” Eden scooped up her purse and darted for the door. She scurried the long way around to avoid Pearson in the nearly empty bull pen. She didn’t dare look behind her as she raced for the back exit.

Reckless or not, she wasn’t leaving Cole out there on his own. He had always had her back. Now it was her turn to have his.

* * *

Cole pried open his eyes. His mouth felt dry, his throat raw. His head... Oh, man, he felt as if he had a ten-bottle hangover before the bottles had been smashed over his skull. The distant hum of a generator buzzed in his ears. He felt cold and shivered.

Where the—

He attempted to sit up, but he couldn’t move. Tucking his chin into his chest and straining up, he saw he’d been strapped down onto a gurney with leather restraints. He tried to pull free, but he only managed to rattle the steel railings trapping him. His breath escaped in bright white puffs. He arched his neck, shifted his torso as far as he could, only to realize he’d been hooked up to what he could only describe as a distillery. Blood was being pumped out of his body, through the tube in his arm, faster than he could have liked. A gurgling echoed in the otherwise silent room.

Cole took a long, deep breath. The temperature bit into his skin. He’d been plunged into Eden’s nightmare. And like Eden...he wasn’t alone.

An identical gurney on the opposite side of what looked like a freezer held the prone form of a familiar face.

Jeff Cottswold.

And his container of blood was almost full.

Cole swore and arched again, biting back a scream as pain shot through his head. The door snapped open.

Jenna, along with a male, sandy-haired version of herself, stepped inside.

“Detective,” Jenna said. The friendly, innocent expression of the woman he’d met at the community center had faded behind cold, stark detachment. “I suppose you’re hoping for an explanation.”

Cole shrugged. “Really couldn’t care less right now.” There wasn’t any need to explain bat-crap crazy, and Jenna’s pupils were definitely spinning in that detached-from-reality look.

He glanced at Hector. “I know you.” He searched his memory. He’d seen this guy before. But where?

“Might not recognize me without my tool kit.” The smile did it.

“Glen.” The lab tech who took Eden’s blood in the hospital. He frowned. That made no sense. “Why were you there? Why take the risk?”

“A test,” Jenna said. “When we heard Eden had been found alive, we needed to know how much she remembered. Hector’s worked off and on in that hospital for years. No one pays him any attention.” She smiled. “He’s invisible.”

“And what if Eden had recognized you?”

“He’d have blamed it on the drug, of course. But we didn’t have to.”

“She never even blinked as far as I was concerned,” Hector said.

“What’s with the IV?” Cole wished the pain in his head would subside. Maybe then he could think clearly enough to see a way out of this mess. Instead his concentrating on the pain was only making things worse. “It’s not like I’m your type.”

Jenna buttoned her thick coat and shivered. “No, you’re not. But you and your team were getting just a little too close. We decided it was time for them to be focused on finding you, instead of us. We’ll let this go another couple of hours. By then, you’ll be too weak to do anything to save yourself and we’ll be out of the state.”

“Don’t suppose you’d like to tell me where you’re headed?” He twisted his wrist one way and then the other, but the restraints weren’t budging. “You know, in case I surprise everyone and live.” Like Eden had. Eden.

“Suffice it to say we’ve found a clinic that’s not nearly as restrictive when it comes to experimental treatments.” Jenna wandered over to Jeff and trailed a finger along the length of tubing.

“Why did you take Eden?” His teeth began to chatter. The cold was sinking into him as quickly as the blood was draining from him.

“She wouldn’t leave us alone. She wasn’t supposed to learn a lesson. She was supposed to die.”

“Then why call me and tell me where to find her?” The band around his left wrist loosened a bit. When neither Jenna nor Hector responded, he craned his neck to look at them. “Finding her alive, along with the other bodies, reopened the case. You have to see that.”

“The cold must be getting to him,” Hector muttered. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Why on earth,” Jenna asked with amazement shining in her eyes, “would we have called the police?”

“Because—” There was no because. It was the one thing in this case that had never made sense and now he knew why.

He and Eden had it wrong. These two weren’t proud of their killings. They didn’t care what anyone else thought about what they were doing. This was all about getting what they wanted: their victims’ blood. Eden was an inconvenience. One they’d attempted to get rid of. “So you’re not show-offs.”

“Do we look like we need a good ego stroking?” Jenna asked. “Eden St. Claire ruined a perfectly fine plan with her endless whining about the victims. They served a greater good. They helped to advance science. They died for a purpose.”

“I’ll be sure to share that with their families,” Cole said with as much sarcasm as he could muster and thought of Agent Simmons’s sister. The agent might end up with closure, if Cole lived, but would an explanation be enough? It wouldn’t be for Cole. Now, as the horror of what these two people had inflicted on their victims was made clear, he began to understand Eden a little bit more. “Your mother would be so proud.”

“Our mother understood the importance of sacrifice,” Hector blasted. “And so did Jenna eventually.”

“So this wasn’t your idea, Jenna?” Cole glanced at her in time to see her flinch. “Weren’t in any rush to become a vampire?” He had to keep talking. Had to stay awake. Had to keep hoping Jack would come bursting through those doors at any minute.

“I admit the idea took some getting used to.” Jenna looked lost in the past. “But I couldn’t deny that the program my mother started gave us the means to find what we needed. It was a sign, you see. From her. She’d provided the avenue to find the right donors. People no one would miss. But then they closed the church and we had to find another way.”

And there Cole followed, around the last bend to insanity.

“Then you really didn’t call the cops so the bodies would be found.” But someone had wanted Eden found. Alive. Someone with a vested interest in her future, someone who knew her every move, knew about Chloe and cotton-candy perfume and flowers...

The return of Chloe’s killer hadn’t started with Simone and the violets.

This had all started with the phone call that led him to Eden.

Which meant Eden—and Simone and Allie—were still in danger.

He pulled harder against the restraints. He had to get out of here. He had to get out of here in one piece; at least long enough to warn Eden.

“Whatever you’re babbling about won’t matter much longer.” Jenna smiled. “You were so understanding, so compassionate.” She walked over and touched his arm. “Thank you for that.”

“Why? Why all of this?” He needed to stall. To let the air in the freezer continue to drain free through the open door. “Why the freezer? Why the cold?”

“We like as pure a donation as possible,” Hector answered. He checked Jeff’s line and gave his sister a nod. “The Propofol is enough to knock you out, but the cold temperatures keep our donors sedated longer without tainting what we need.”

It was like being lectured by Jekyll and Hyde.

“But what about the reason behind it all? I don’t get it.” Cole twisted, trying to keep them both within view.

“Is it so wrong to want to live?” Jenna asked.

“It can’t be that simple.”

“Why can’t it be?” Hector demanded. “We came into this world together. I wasn’t going to let her leave without me.”

“I guess that would have been too much to ask.” Cole imagined the lives that would have been saved.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said I wanted to live,” Jenna spit.

“Your life isn’t worth any more than the lives of your victims,” Cole said. His mind spun again. His vision was going gray, as if he was losing consciousness. Quick—a flash of color. He saw a figure by the freezer’s open door. Of red-tinged blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. Eden.

He closed his eyes. He was seeing things. “What gives you the right to decide who deserves to die?”

“I’m alive,” Jenna said, as if it explained everything. “I should have died when I was a baby, I was so sick. But our mother prayed and prayed and I was saved. And we, or rather Hector, was given the knowledge he needed to keep me alive. I’m only the start, Detective Delaney. Once we prove this treatment works, it’ll help hundreds, thousands of other patients. And they’ll have us to thank for it. All those people won’t have died in vain.”

“No offense, but I’d love to see the faces of the vics’ relatives when you share that theory with them.”

“Yes, well, we don’t always get what we want,” Hector said. “Jenna, step back. I need to crank up this pump and put the good detective out of his misery. It’s time we moved on with our plans.”

* * *

The second Eden entered the broken-down church, she knew she’d found them. There was a charge in the air, an energy, something she could feel surrounding her. That and the fact she’d seen the bus parked out back, motor running.

The various hoses and electrical wires that were connected to the bus led via the rear door of the building into the kitchen, which had been another tip-off.

She held her phone out, record button on as she heard voices drifting through the echoing freezer. She’d made her way quietly around the counters, past the refrigerator and the ancient stove that looked to be housing a family of rats.

The lights were dim, but bright enough for her to see. There were still no sirens. She’d been counting on Castillo and Pearson to raise the alarm sooner rather than later. The fact that she’d boosted a patrol car, with GPS, from the parking lot should have increased their response time. With everything going on, the station was operating with a skeleton crew. Still, now was as good a time as any to put her increased faith in Cole’s fellow officers to the test.

“But I haven’t finished interrogating you yet.” The sound of Cole’s voice surged through her, warming her heart. She exhaled in relief. He was alive.

Eden pulled her stun gun from her waistband as she tried to follow the conversation. She bent down outside the walk-in freezer and set her phone on the floor, microphone aimed toward the occupants.

She peered around the metal door, waiting for Jenna and Hector to turn their backs to her. Eden, stun gun at the ready, waited for her chance.

Out of the blue, she heard car doors slammed outside. Voices yelled. In the distance, sirens blared.

Eden closed her eyes. Worst timing ever.

“Go see who that is!” Jenna ordered her brother.

Eden tensed, thumb on the button. The second she saw Hector’s foot cross the threshold, she stepped out and plunged the prongs into his stomach. The sound of lightning times a thousand crackled in the air.

She counted to five before she dropped her arm, enjoying the smell of ozone as it mingled in the icy air. She shoved Hector hard and sent him sprawling backward into the freezer.

He landed, twitching, at his sister’s feet.

Jenna backed up as Eden moved in. All these months, all the people they’d killed, the terror they’d inflicted...but nothing sent the anger washing over her faster and stronger than seeing Cole—the man she loved—strapped down.

“Eden—” Cole’s voice lacked its normal strength. “Be careful.”

“You won’t hurt me.” In the blink of an eye, Jenna had shifted into some kind of pathetic poor-me character. “I’m sick.”

“You got that right,” Eden replied.

“Get me out of these things.” Cole rattled his restraints against the bars, a mix of fury and humiliation crossing his handsome face. She rushed to his side.

“Careful. You’ll break your wrists,” she said as she unbuckled him and lowered the railing. She looked over her shoulder at a pathetic Jenna, who stood, silently, huddling into herself.

“And here I thought you’d be needing my help.” Cole shook his head, obviously trying to clear his mind. “They pumped me full of that sedative.”

“I know.” She touched his face. “Cole, I’m so sor—”

He kissed her, hard and quick, holding on to the back of her neck with disturbingly weak fingers. Then he stared into her eyes. “I’m the one who’s sorry. Loving you means loving all of you. You wouldn’t be who you are if you hadn’t done what you did.”

Eden grinned. “I should drug you more often. That sounded so nice.”

“Eden! What the...?” Jack arrived first, followed closely by Lieutenant Santos and Pearson.

“I’m thinking about getting my name changed to that.” Eden sighed and backed away from Cole to let the others in. “Eden, what the— has a kind of ring to it. Did Castillo catch on to my ruse, or did you track the car?” she asked.

She locked her eyes on Jenna and amused herself by hitting the Taser’s on button every so often. Funny how she could make the woman twitch without even touching her.

“Give me that.” Jack ripped the stun gun out of her hand. “Both. Honestly, Cole, if you don’t marry this woman we’re going to have to lock her up somewhere. She’s an absolute menace.” But he hugged Eden tight nonetheless.

“Like the state can afford it,” Lieutenant Santos said. He pushed his officers aside to let the EMTs in.

“You want to marry me?” Eden called out to Cole as she was dragged backward out of the freezer and engulfed in two pairs of arms. “Hey, where did you guys come from?”

She would have known Simone and Allie’s embrace anywhere.

“Where we always are,” Allie sob-laughed. “Right behind you.”

“You owe me a case of wine,” Simone said. “For all the years you’ve scared off me this last week. And I want the expensive stuff.”

“Yeah, whatever. Where’s Cole?” Eden craned her neck to peer around them.

“Jeez, one minute they’re on, the next they’re off. It’s like a reality show with these two,” Allie joked.

“Do you think he really would marry me?” Eden found herself falling into a dream she’d given up on decades ago.

“Well, I sure don’t,” Simone said. “But why don’t you find out.” She pushed Eden toward the freezer, Eden’s onetime nightmare. Now a place that held the most promise.

She looked on as Bowie and Pearson hefted Hector off the floor and cuffed him, hauling him out of sight.

The EMTs bandaged Cole’s arm after disconnecting him from the Batsakis siphoning machine. Eden reached for Cole’s hand. “Is he okay?” she asked one of the paramedics.

Jeff Cottswold’s stretcher was being carefully wheeled from the freezer, the monitor they’d hooked up for his vital signs beeping loudly. A good sign.

“He’s got a possible concussion, various contusions and severe loss of blood,” one of the EMTs said. “And he’s definitely been drugged with something. We’ll get him into Emergency.”

“I’ll go with you.” Eden wouldn’t let go of Cole’s hand.

“No.” Cole shook his head, the lack of color in his face more disturbing than she would ever admit. “No, you hate ambulances as much as you do emergency rooms.”

“True.” Eden nodded, but she stepped closer and clutched his uninjured hand against her chest, took a deep breath and embraced the fear. Because Cole would be there to catch her. “But I love you.”