Catherine relayed in detail the brief conversation. Her memory was excellent, honed from years of retaining an entire hours session with clients. Rebecca and Watts each took notes.

Rebecca stiffened when Catherine clinically stated the callers sexual intimations. She felt a rage she rarely experienced despite all her encounters with brutality and perversions. This time it was Catherine who was threatened. When Catherine finished, Rebecca was wordless, struggling with her emotions.

She started slightly as Watts asked, "Did you recognize the voice, Doctor?" Rebecca had forgotten he was there.

Catherine shook her head, a look of faint surprise on her face. "No," she said, "of course not."

Watts gave a non-committal shrug. "Never know. Could be someone you knowor maybe someone you treated?"

Catherine regarded the blank face of the man seated beside Rebecca contemplatively. She sensed a clever mind behind the facade of apparent disinterest. Her curiosity was piqued, and she wondered where his train of thought was leading. Without consciously realizing it, she slipped into her professional mind set and began to view the events objectively, as if they had happened to someone else.

"I would recognize the voice, Im sure of that. He was casual, and yet, so intimate." She didnt notice Rebeccas slight flinch at her choice of words. Watts gave no sign of noticing it either.

"Hes trying to make contact. He wants someone to share his experience with," she mused aloud.

"What do you mean?" Rebecca asked, trying to keep her voice even.Goddamn him to hell for involving Catherine in this.

She didnt want to interrupt Catherines assessment of what had occurred by allowing her own reactions to interfere. She forced down the rage that threatened her objectivity, and she tried to view Catherine as the critical component she had become in this case. Nevertheless, she was aware of a faint nausea that made it difficult for her to swallow. Watts glanced at her nonchalantly, giving no sign he had noticed the strain in her voice or the rigid way she held her body.

"Hes pleased with himself," Catherine said, her eyes turning toward Rebecca. Her gaze was slightly unfocused as her thoughts continued to form. "Hes performed an important act, you see, and hes established himself, done something powerful -- won a little victory. And he wants to be sure someone appreciates this."

"So why call you?" Watts said.

Catherine shrugged. "I dont know"

"Catherine," Rebecca began urgently, "this is very important. Are you sure he isnt a patient -- someone you know?"

Catherine shook her head. "I dont treat many men. Im certain I would know."

"How about pulling your files on all the men youve seen -- say in the last five years," Watts said. "Maybe we can find something there that jogs your memory."

Catherine straightened in her chair with a start.

"Absolutely not, Detective. Its out of the question."

"Look, Doc," Watts suddenly interrupted. "This guy picksyou-- you of all the people in the city -- to have a little talk with. He calls you to share a few `intimate details of his latest fuck. Now I gotta think thats not a coincidence. Like maybe hes got a little thing for you or something?"

"Back off, Watts," Rebecca ordered, fighting to control her temper. Wattss crude interrogation of Catherine incensed her, and had Catherine not been present, she would have told him to shut his fat fucking mouth. As it was, it was all she could do to keep her hands off him. "If Dr. Rawlings says hes not a patient, then he isnt."

Watts settled back in his chair apparently unperturbed. "Yeah, if you say so."

"Ill review all my files, Detective," Catherine offered. "If theres anything there at all I think may be relevant, Ill look into it."

"Absolutely not!" Rebecca exploded. "You are not to pursue any contact with anyone you think may be involved with this case! For gods sake, Catherine, this man is a psych -- hes already killed two women, and a third may die!"

"Oh, I dont know, Frye," Watts mused softly. "Might not be a bad idea. Maybe the doc can come up with something for us. We aint got shit now."

"Leave it alone, Watts," Rebecca said, cold fury in her voice. She looked at Catherine, her blue eyes dark with a mixture of anger and a fear she couldnt quite hide.

"Promise me, Catherine," she said urgently, not caring that Watts was sitting beside her.

Catherine despaired at the anguish in Rebeccas eyes, and she hated the conflict her involvement had created for Rebecca. The last thing she wanted was to make Rebeccas already overwhelmingly difficult job any harder. "Yes, of course," she answered quickly. She was rewarded by the slight easing of Rebeccas stiff shoulders.

"Well need to put a tap on your phone," Rebecca said, her mind beginning to function again. "Ill put a man in your office, too."

Catherine sighed deeply, hating the words she had to say. "I cant let you do that, Rebecca."

Rebecca looked up from her notebook, astonishment flooding her face. Watts looked almost amused.

"What?" Rebecca exploded.

"I cant have my line monitored. Its an invasion of my patients privacy. And a man lurking about in my waiting room would be too unsettling for some of my clients. I just cant allow it," Catherine said as gently as possible.

"Catherine," Rebecca began, her tone dark with exasperation.Thiswas too much. She couldnt deal with this professional bullshit any longer -- not when it put Catherine at risk. Confidentiality was one thing, but this was carrying it too damn far. Not only did she need to protect Catherine, but she had to have access to this guy if he called again. Before she could continue, Watts interrupted.

"How bout this, Doc," he suggested. "We put a tape recorder on your phone, and if our boy calls, you record it. And well have somebody watching your office from a car on the street?"

Catherine considered carefully for a moment. "The tape recorder sounds fine, but I cant have someone watch my clients come and go."

"God damn it to hell!" Rebecca barked.

"OK for now," Watts said, slapping his thigh briskly. He turned to Rebecca, his face carefully revealing nothing. "Talk to you outside for a moment, Frye?" He rose and strode deliberately to the office door, leaving Rebecca to follow angrily behind.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Watts?" she roared as soon as the door closed behind her. "Its not up to you how we run this case. I'm in charge here, and Ill say how we handle this surveillance." Her face was two inches from his, and it took all of her control not to punch his already misshapen face in.

Watts reached unperturbedly into his jacket pocket and fumbled for a cigarette. He lit it, took a long drag and exhaled slowly.

"Looks to me like the shrink is one stubborn lady. If were gonna get anything out of her, were gonna have to go real slow and gentle, like a virgin on her first date."

"Jesus Christ," Rebecca murmured. "You are the worst piece of crap Ive come upon in years. If you think I'm going to leave her here like some piece of bait, you're stupider than you look." She was having trouble thinking straight, but she could'nt seem to clear her head. She had been up for nearly three days running with only a few hours of sleep. Jeff was dead, for gods sake, and now some piece of slime had slithered into her world and touched the woman "she-she-what", for Christ's sake? The woman she let hold her when her heart was breaking? The woman who gave her her body for comfort and a few hours peace? Oh god, what was she doing? How could she have let this happen now, in the middle of a case like this? She sagged slightly against the wall and stared numbly at Watts, who continued to puff contentedly on his cigarette.

"Sorry, Watts," she said at length. "You're right. We cant force her to do anything, and even a tape is better than nothing. Probably cant use it as evidence though."

"Doesnt matter if we catch the guy. Well have a DNA match from the semen."

Rebecca stared at him wordlessly. He was right again.

"Lets see if Cathif Dr. Rawlings has anything else to add," she said tiredly, feeling ineffectual and unaccountably defeated.

Watts turned away, saying, "You do it. Not much more there, and I'm ready to call it a day." He strolled away, leaving Rebecca staring at his retreating back

Chapter Twenty

Catherine, already tiredly slumped in her chair, listened to the angry murmur of voices outside her door. The excitement of the last few hours had dissipated, leaving her drained. She knew Rebecca was angry, and she understood, or thought she did as much as anyone could, the frustration and powerlessness the detective must feel right now. To have this man, whose identity had eluded the police so thoroughly, suddenly reveal his presence in such an arrogant and taunting manner was an insult too bitter to contemplate. And, Catherine also knew that her unwilling involvement with him placed a great strain on Rebecca, who now must feel torn between her professional obligation to maintain contact with the perpetrator and her personal desire to shield Catherine from him. Catherines inability to cooperate in the way that Rebecca required certainly did not help ease the situation. She stared uneasily at her office door, wondering what future difficulties the return of the two detectives would bring. Clearly, Rebecca and her associate did not see eye to eye on the best way to proceed. Catherine imagined it must be very hard for Rebecca to deal with a new partner so soon after the Jeffs death, especially since Rebecca had no real opportunity to mourn the loss of her friend.