Savannah looked faintly unnerved as she handed it to her mother without comment. It said, “I love you, and I want your body.”

“Well, that certainly makes that clear. Any idea who it’s from?” The note wasn’t signed, and Savannah shook her head.

“That’s weird, Mom. It’s creepy. Kind of like a peeping Tom.”

“Or a secret admirer. I wonder if it’s someone in the building, since it didn’t come through the mail. Just be aware when you go in and out, and don’t get in the elevator alone with a guy you don’t know.” It was good advice.

“Why would someone write me something like that?”

“Because there are a lot of nuts in the world, and you’re a very pretty girl. Just be careful and smart and you’ll be fine.” Alexa tried to treat it lightly and went downstairs to mail the college applications. She didn’t want to admit to her daughter that she was somewhat unnerved herself. She was thinking about her mother’s admonition to be particularly careful during the Quentin case, and her reminder that men like him had friends outside, even when they were safely put away in jail. So far Quentin didn’t seem like a man who had a lot of friends, or any in New York. Some of his pals in prison had told investigators he was a lone wolf.

Alexa asked the doorman if anyone had hand-delivered a letter to them, and he said no one had, which led her to wonder how the sender of the note to Savannah had dropped it off. And more importantly, who would write the letter to her and why. She tried to look less upset about it than she was when she went back upstairs, but she admitted to being concerned. She had quietly put the letter in a plastic bag. Savannah brought it up again as they shared Chinese takeout that was delivered.

“I was thinking about that letter again, Mom. I think it’s really scary, and I don’t think it’s the kind of thing that would be written by a kid,” even though the envelope had looked that way. “Kids just don’t write that kind of thing.”

“Maybe a very repressed kid would. Some boy who admired you in secret from the distance, and disguised his handwriting on the envelope, so you couldn’t guess who it was. I don’t think it’s a big deal. You should be careful anyway, but it isn’t a threat.” Alexa was trying to be cool.

“I guess so,” Savannah said in response, finishing a spring roll. “It still creeps me out.”

“Yeah. Me too. And actually, it’s kind of insulting. I live here too, and nobody’s in love with me or telling me they want my body.” Savannah laughed, but in truth Alexa particularly didn’t like that an anonymous stranger had written a note like that to Savannah. She was far more disturbed than she let on.

Without saying anything to Savannah, Alexa stuffed the letter in its plastic bag into her purse, and took it to the forensic lab the next day. Her favorite technician was on, a young Asian man who always got her fast results and gave her the most minute details.

“Who wrote that?” she asked bluntly, and he laughed when she handed him the plastic bag with the envelope in it.

“You mean hair color and shoe size? Or just what brand his jeans were?”

“I mean man, woman, or child?” She was afraid that it had not been written by a lovesick young boy, and maybe not even by a dirty old man. She had a feeling it had been written to unnerve her, and it had.

He narrowed his eyes as he carefully took the envelope out of the plastic bag, wearing rubber gloves, and looked at it, and then smiled at her. “Give me a few minutes. I have to finish something up, or the guys in narcotics are going to kill me. I’ll call you in an hour. I assume you want me to check it for fingerprints too.” She nodded.

“Thanks.” She smiled back at him and went upstairs to her office. As promised, he called her within the hour.

“Okay, got it.” Jason Yu got right to the point, he always did. “Adult male, steady hand so probably somewhere in his twenties or thirties. American. Possibly Catholic school education, so maybe it’s a priest,” he chuckled.

“Very funny.”

“The handwriting was disguised, clumsily, to look like it was written by a child, but it wasn’t. And there are no prints on the paper. He must have worn rubber gloves. Death threat?” he asked with interest. It wasn’t unusual for cops and assistant DAs or even public defenders to get them. People who went to jail got pissed at lawyers and judges, and the cops who arrested them in the first place. It came with the job.

“No, nothing like that. Kind of a love letter of sorts, not to me, to my daughter.”

“And you want to know who the boyfriend is?”

“She doesn’t have one. It was an anonymous letter written by some guy who says he wants her body. Working on the Quentin case, I’m a little skittish about guys who go after young women. I’m probably just paranoid, and it’s some kid in our building.”

“It never hurts to check it out,” he reassured her. “I’m working on your DNA studies right now. I’ll let you know when I have something new for you.”

“Thanks, Jason,” she thanked him again, and they hung up.

He hadn’t solved the mystery of Savannah’s anonymous admirer, but at least they knew now that it was a man and not a child. As Savannah said, it creeped her out. There was no certainty in Alexa’s mind that Luke Quentin was behind it, and there was no reason for him to know she had a child. But someone had written the letter. And if Quentin had somehow managed to look her up, or Google her online from the computer in the jail, and discover she had a daughter, then he had the information he needed, and could have had someone he knew write Savannah a letter to scare her, or follow her to discover she had a daughter. She didn’t know how he could arrange it, but she did know that he had thought the grand jury wouldn’t indict him, and they had. Inevitably, he would blame her for that, and the looks he had given her the few times she saw him had been to throw her off balance as well, to show her who was boss, and that to him she was just a hunk of female flesh like anyone else. There was a smoldering sexual quality to him along with the arrogance that hadn’t gone unnoticed. And Alexa didn’t like it. Not at all. And particularly not directed at her daughter. If he had sent the note, it was to frighten Alexa, and nothing else, to show her how far his reach was, and that he could get to her, even from jail.

“What’s up?” Jack had walked into her office and looked startled at her expression. “Why?”

“You’ve got murder in your eyes.”

“No, I don’t. That would be our defendant. I’m just worried.”

“What about?” He sat down in the chair across from her desk.

“Savannah. We got a stupid anonymous letter this weekend, from some guy who says he wants her body. I’m probably being paranoid, but I wondered if Luke Quentin got someone to drop it off. Do you want to look up his visiting record and see if anyone has come to see him, and let’s check them out.”

“Sure,” Jack reassured her. “But it’s probably not him. He’s not that stupid. I just spent another two hours with him, and he’s a smart guy. What’s the point of lusting after your daughter? Or sending anonymous letters to bug you? He’s in jail, and the last thing he wants to do right now is beat a path to your front door and piss you off. You’re a pretty formidable opponent, and you’ve got the upper hand. I don’t think he’s your guy. It’s more likely just a random thing. She’s a pretty girl. Anyone could have written that letter.”

“I guess you’re right. I’m just edgy. And I don’t like people stalking my daughter.” Alexa looked fierce as she said it, a mother lioness protecting her cub, and Jack smiled.

“Is she scared?”

“Not really. But we were both unnerved.”

“It’s probably just some kid who likes her. Boys do dumb stuff at that age. Come to think of it, at every age.”

“Jason Yu says it’s a guy in his twenties or thirties.”

“You asked him?” Jack looked surprised. Having the handwriting analyzed by forensics seemed like an extreme measure to him. “You are worried,” he said when she nodded.

“I just wanted to be sure, so I know what we’re dealing with. So it’s a man and not a kid. But it’s still probably nothing.”

“I’ll check Quentin’s visiting record. And if it happens again, let me know.” She nodded, and he filled her in on the interrogation that morning. Nothing new had turned up. But they were sending Quentin’s early DNA results to the other states to see if there was any kind of match. And by late that afternoon, he was able to tell Alexa that Quentin had had no visitors at all, so it was unlikely that the letter to Savannah had been instigated by him. Alexa wasn’t sure if she was relieved or not. If it wasn’t Quentin, who was it?

It was two days later when Jack walked into her office again. Alexa was having a bad day. Everything had gone wrong, and she had just spilled her coffee over her desk, drowning her papers, and had ruined a new skirt.

“Shit,” she was muttering to herself when he walked in, beaming.

“Bad time?”

“No, I just spilled my coffee.” She was trying to salvage the papers on her desk. The skirt was a mess. “What’s up?” He tossed a file onto the dry part of her desk.

“Bingo!”

“Bingo? What about?” It had been a busy morning, and her mind was going in a million directions at once.

“We have matches in Iowa and Illinois. Some of Quentin’s hair under three victims’ nails. So now we have seven. I think this is just the beginning.” They had made the matches from the evidence in the rape kits put together by the coroner in each case and meticulously preserved.

“Holy shit!” She was both elated and sorry at the same time. Sorry for the families of the victims, but thrilled that they had the perpetrator behind bars. “Will they let us incorporate their cases and add them to trial here, or do we have to extradite him for trial there after ours?” Their worst fear was that the FBI would take the case away from them since he had crossed state lines. Alexa wanted to keep the case and so did Jack and the DA.