"A woman with a dog approaching. Cute dog," Catherine noted.

That, Rebecca knew, would be Diane Thompson and Cleo. Cleo was a narc dog. They had decided to risk putting one officer on Catherines direct route if they could, and the tiny Yorkshire terrier seemed like the perfect cover.

Diane shook her head almost imperceptibly as she passed Rebecca a minute later. "Nothing," she whispered with disappointment.

Rebecca hadnt expected much. Obviously he wasnt going to reveal himself. What she couldnt figure was how he intended to get away, especially with Catherine. Could he be so psychotic he didnt believe they would be following him? He had set this up so well, and this glaring flaw perplexed her.

"There are some fallen trees up ahead," Catherine reported. "Im going to have to go around them."

"No!" Rebecca cried silently, breaking into a run. If Catherine were off the trail, not only was she more vulnerable, she was easier to lose. Seconds later Rebecca heard Catherine gasp and then recognized the harsh voice in her ear that froze her heart.

"Where is the wire? Tell me!"

Rebecca heard the rending of cloth before total silence as Catherines transmitter went dead.

"Jesus, Watts! Hes got her! Move, move!" Rebecca screamed into her mike as she tore up the trail. She saw the downed trees ahead, and slowed as she approached, her gun in hand. Carefully, she stepped off the path toward the water, searching for some sign. They couldnt be far ahead! It was evident from some trampled bushes that he had waited here for her. Rebeccas eye caught a faint flash of color in the grass. She stifled a moan as her fingers closed over one of the cream-colored buttons from Catherines blouse. Moving automatically, the tiny connection to Catherine clenched in her hand, she searched for a trail. Through the trees she could see the ever present scullers on the river. Life went on normally around her, while her own life condensed into the sensation of a tiny button pressed into her palm.

She heard footsteps behind her, and turned, her gun poised. It was Watts.

"What happened?" he said breathlessly.

"He was waiting here, just like we knew he would be. I was only a minute behind, but they seemed to have vanished," Rebecca recounted in a flat, empty voice.

Watts would almost rather she panicked. Right now she looked like a loose grenade with the pin pulled, ready to go off at any second.

"They cant get out of the park, Frye. Thats one thing we did right."

"What if he doesnt take her out of the park? What if he just rapes and murders her, fifty yards from us, just like the others?"

"Too dangerous. Weve got people all over here now. And besides, this guy is not stupid. He got her here for a reason, and it wasnt just to hump her."

Rebecca lunged at him. "Shut your fucking mouth, Watts!" She had her hands on his throat before she realized what she was doing. Just as quickly, she dropped her hands and shook her head to clear it.

"God, I lost it," she said, stepping back. "Im sorry."

Watts regarded her impassively, waving away her apology. Color returned to her face and her eyes grew sharp and intent.

"Theyre not here, Watts. Which means they went somewhere, right?"

Watts nodded in puzzled agreement.

"So where the hell did they go? For that matter, how does he always disappear so easily? They didnt go up that path, Watts, because two of them would have left quite a trail. And they didnt go back past me. So where did they go?"

They both turned at the same time. Towards the water.

"Son of a bitch," Watts said, hurrying after Rebecca. "Are we dumb fucks or what? Its been right in front of our noses the whole time. The goddamned water!"

Their eyes scanned the crew teams and solitary rowers on the river, a sight so familiar it had failed to register in anyones mind.

"Janet Ryan stopped to watch the regatta," Rebecca mused out loud, "and I bet if we checked the dates of the other rapes wed find there was a regatta each time. Perfect cover." She rounded on Watts, her voice sharp with purpose.

"Hes got to be headed for the boathouses! Get the car and follow me. And for Gods sake, keep this quiet. I dont want Catherine to end up in a hostage situation. Let me go ahead on foot. He wont be expecting it. He thinks hes outsmarted us."

"Ill keep a lid on it for as long as I can, Frye. That means Im your only backup."

She met his eyes for a moment and was reassured by their unwavering solidity.

"Thats enough."

Chapter Thirty

The first thing she noticed was the pounding pain in her jaw. The second was the rhythmic sounds of water rushing past. She tried to turn and found herself wedged uncomfortably into a narrow space at the front of some kind of boat.

"Were almost there, Catherine," he said. "May I call you `Catherine?"

She tried to focus on his face in the near darkness. She wanted to put a face to the voice; she needed that to quiet the rising panic that threatened to immobilize her.

"What may I call you?" she asked, her voice sounding odd to her own ears. She ran her tongue experimentally over the inside of her mouth. Swollen, but nothing broken.

"Raymond."

Her heart raced at this small triumph.

"Where are we going, Raymond?"

"To a private place, where no one will disturb us."

"All right."

Catherine made no attempt to sit up. She couldnt go anywhere, and it was pointless to antagonize him. She became acutely aware of the cold wind on her chest and realized her blouse was open. She remembered him tearing it to pull off the tiny microphone wires that had been taped there. He had not touched her breasts. She tentatively reached up to pull the damaged material closed.

"Whats the matter, does your jaw hurt? I didnt want to hit you, but I couldnt let you make any noise."

"My jaw does hurt, and Im cold."

"Youll be warm soon."

She couldnt judge how long she had been in the boat, which she now recognized as a scull. She knew they were moving quickly, and she wondered if Rebecca would find her.

**********

There were fifteen boathouses on the river, some owned by private universities, some city property, and some no longer in use. Rebecca was betting that he would be using one of the half dozen unoccupied structures. If she bet wrong, it could mean Catherines life. It seemed to take forever for her and Watts to get there. Rebecca would have to check the entire perimeter of each house, and possibly the interiors, in the hope of finding Catherine, and she was racing against the clock.

"Take the street side, Watts. Ill take the water side. When I move to the next house, Ill signal you."

"Right."

She melted quickly into the darkness near the water, praying that she would be in time.

**********

"I cant turn the lights on, Catherine, but we have candles. Candles will be nicer, dont you think?"

He was an average looking man, sandy hair, medium height, and a slender build. It was the voice that captured Catherines attention. It had a dreamy quality, almost as if he were reciting well-practiced words. She had heard it before, and it worried her. She had a feeling he was listening to other voices in his head.

"I have to tie your hands, Catherine. You cant be trusted, and I dont want you to spoil anything."

"What might I spoil?"

"I dont want you to move while Im fucking you. You have to pay attention to what Im doing." As he spoke he wrapped her wrists behind her back with nylon cord. She was aware that her breasts were exposed, but he didnt seem to notice. He stepped behind her to pull a tarp over the bench that ran the length of the wall.

"What do you want to show me?" Catherine was desperately casting about for some way to interrupt his thinking. He was obviously playing out a script already written in his mind, and if she couldnt distract him, she had no hope.

"I want to show you how well I can fuck, and how special it is with me. More than with any of the others." He was kneeling beside her now, emptying the contents of a sports bag on the floor. There were several pairs of shorts, more rope, and a .38 caliber revolver.

"Tell me what it will be like."

He stood up abruptly, and pulled her head back roughly by the hair. His face, previously unnaturally calm, was suddenly contorted with rage.

"Ill do much better than tell you,Doctor. Ill show you. And when Im done youll know just how special I am."

**********

Rebecca had about given up hope when she spied the dim flicker of light through the shutters of the last boathouse in the row. She carefully pried one piece of wood off the boarded up window and peered inside. Moving slowly, she raised the radio to her lips.

"Ive got them, Watts. Rear of the last house, first floor. Im going in. I need you now, Watts."

Her voice sounded strangely hollow in his ear. It spooked him.

"Wait for me, Frye! Youll get yourself killed!"

Rebecca didnt hear his message. It wouldnt have changed her mind.

Chapter Thirty-One

"Hello, Catherine," Rebecca said as she stepped into the room. She could barely make out the shapes of objects at the far end of the room, but she could see Catherine and the man who stood beside her quite clearly in the glow of the candles he had placed in a circle around them. He was staring at her, a look of confusion on his face.

"Who is your friend?" Rebecca asked, stepping forward slowly, her jacket unbuttoned, the safety off on her automatic.