“Assholes. You know it won’t stick. What’s the matter? You got a bunch of murders you can’t solve, so you figured you’d do some one-stop shopping and pin them all on me?” Luke looked totally undisturbed, and almost amused, but his eyes were like steel, and an evil shade of blue.

Jack wasn’t fooled by the bravado. Luke was slick. They had evidence that he had committed two murders, and they were almost sure of two others. And if Jack’s guess was right, Luke Quentin had killed over a dozen women in two years, maybe more. They were waiting for a more conclusive DNA report on the dirt from his shoes that Charlie had gotten out of the shag carpet in Quentin’s hotel room. If the dirt was a match, as Charlie hoped it would be, Quentin had just been on the streets for the last time in his life.

“What a crock of shit,” Luke mumbled as he shuffled away. “You know you won’t make it stick. You’re just fishing. I have an alibi for every night. I hardly left my hotel room in the last two weeks. I’ve been sick.” Yeah, Jack thought to himself, very sick. They all were, guys like him, sociopaths who didn’t bat an eye after they killed their victims, dumped them somewhere, and then went out to lunch. Luke Quentin was handsome and looked as though he could be charming. He was the perfect type to spot some innocent young girl, and lure her to a secluded spot where he could rape her and then kill her. Jack had seen guys like him before, although if the stories were true about this one, he was one of the worst. Or the worst they’d had in a long time anyway. Jack knew there would be a lot of press on this, and every last detail had to be handled right, or Quentin would get a mistrial on some finicky detail. Charlie knew it too, which was why he had let Jack handle the booking, and after Luke was taken away to be searched and get his mug shot done, Jack called the DA himself.

“We got him,” Jack said proudly. “All our hunches paid off, and luck was on our side. That and Charlie McAvoy, who ran his ass off and caught him. If I’d had to run down all those alleys and hit all those fences, he’d have been halfway to Brooklyn before I got over the first one.” Jack was in good shape, but he was forty-nine years old, and he and the DA teased each other about their weight. They were the same age. The DA congratulated him for his good work, and told him he’d see him in the morning. He wanted to meet with the arresting officers to decide how they were going to handle the press.

By the time Jack left the station half an hour later, Luke was already in a cell. They had decided to put him in a cell alone. He was being scheduled for arraignment the following afternoon, and Jack knew the press would be all over them by then. Arresting the man who may have killed a dozen women or more in seven states was going to be big news. And if nothing else, it was going to make the NYPD look extremely good at what they did. Now it was up to the DA’s office, the prosecutor, and the investigators they used to do the rest.

He drove home with Charlie that night, after they made the arrest. It had been a long day watching the hotel all afternoon. They had seen Luke when he left, and Charlie had wanted to grab him then, but Jack told him to wait. Since he didn’t suspect they were on to him, they knew he’d be back. And there were too many people around then, Jack didn’t want anyone in the hotel to get hurt. It had worked out just right for them in the end. And not so well for Luke.

Luke Quentin was sitting in his cell then, staring at the wall. He could hear all the familiar sounds of jail. In an odd way it was like coming home. And he knew that if he lost, this time he was home for good. His face gave away nothing, as he stared down at his shoes, and then he lay on his bunk and closed his eyes. He looked totally at peace.

Chapter 2

“Hurry! Hurry, hurry!” Alexa Hamilton said to her daughter as she shoved a box of cereal and a carton of milk at her. “I’m sorry for the lousy breakfast, but I’m late for work.” She had to force herself to sit down and glance at the paper, and not stand there and tap her foot. Her seventeen-year-old daughter Savannah Beaumont had miles of pale blond hair. She wore it straight down her back, and she had a figure that had made men whistle at her in the street since she was fourteen. She was the hub of her mother’s life. Alexa looked up from the paper with a smile. “You’re wearing lipstick. Someone cute at school?” It was Savannah’s senior year in a good private New York school. Savannah was working on her applications to Stanford, Brown, Princeton, and Harvard. Her mother hated the thought of her going away to school. But she had fantastic grades and was as smart as she was beautiful. So was Alexa, but she had a different look. Alexa had a long lean body and a model’s looks, except she was healthier and prettier. She pulled her hair back tightly in a bun, and never wore makeup to work. She had no need or desire to distract anyone with her looks. She was an assistant DA and was thirty-nine, turning forty later that year. She had gone to the DA’s office straight out of law school, and had worked there for seven years.

“I’m eating as fast as I can.” Savannah grinned and reassured her.

“Don’t make yourself sick. New York’s criminal population can wait.” She had gotten a text message from her boss the night before that he wanted to meet with her that morning, hence the rush, but she could always tell him the subway had been slow. “How did the essay for Princeton go last night? I was going to come in and help, but I fell asleep. You can show it to me tonight.”

“I can’t.” Savannah smiled broadly at her, she was a gorgeous girl. She played varsity volleyball at school. “I have a date,” she announced as she scooped up the last of the cereal, and her mother raised an eyebrow.

“Something new? Or should I say someone new?”

“Just a friend. We’re going out with a bunch of people. There’s a game in Riverdale we all want to see. It’s no big deal. I can finish the application this weekend.”

“You have exactly two weeks to finish all of them,” Alexa said sternly. She and Savannah had been alone for almost eleven years, since Savannah was six. “You’d better not screw around, there’s no give on those dates.”

“Then maybe I’ll just have to take a year off from school before college,” Savannah teased her. They had a good time together, and a loving relationship. Savannah wasn’t embarrassed to tell her friends that her mom was her best friend, and they thought her mother was cool too. Alexa had taken several of them to the office with her for Career Day every year. But Savannah had no desire to go to law school. She wanted to be either a journalist or a psychologist, but hadn’t decided yet. She didn’t have to declare her major for the first two years of college.

“If you take a year off, maybe I’ll do it with you. I’ve had a run of crappy cases for the last month. The holidays bring out the worst in everyone. I think I’ve had every Park Avenue housewife shoplifter in town to prosecute since Thanksgiving,” she complained as they left the apartment together, and got in the elevator. Savannah knew that in October her mother had prosecuted an important rape case, and put the defendant away for good. He had thrown acid in the woman’s face. But since then, work had been slow.

“Why don’t we take a trip when I graduate in June? By the way, Daddy’s taking me to Vermont for ski week,” Savannah said breezily as the elevator headed down. She avoided her mother’s eyes when she said it. She hated the look on her face whenever she mentioned her father to her. It was still a mixture of hurt and anger, even after all these years-nearly eleven. It was the only time her mother looked bitter, although she never said anything overtly rotten about him to her daughter.

Savannah didn’t remember much about the divorce, but she knew it had been a bad time for her mother. Her father was from Charleston, South Carolina, and they had lived there until the divorce, and then she and her mother moved back to New York. Savannah hadn’t been to Charleston since, and didn’t really remember it anymore. Her father came to see her in New York two or three times a year, and when he had time, he took her on trips, although his schedule changed a lot. She loved seeing him, and tried not to feel like a traitor to her mother when she did. Her parents communicated by e-mail, and hadn’t spoken or seen each other since the divorce. It was a little Charlie’s Angels for Savannah’s taste, but that was just the way it was, and she knew it wasn’t going to change. It meant her father wouldn’t come to her high school graduation. Savannah was hoping to work on both of them in the four years before she graduated from college. She really wanted both of them there. But her mother was great, in spite of the animosity between her parents.

“You know he’ll probably cancel at the last minute, don’t you?” Alexa said, looking irritated. She hated it when Tom disappointed their daughter, and he so often did. Savannah always forgave him, but Alexa didn’t. She loathed everything he did and was.

“Mom,” Savannah scolded her, almost sounding like the mother and not the daughter. “You know I don’t like it when you do that. He can’t help it, he’s busy.” Doing what? Alexa wanted to ask, but didn’t. Going to lunch at his club, or playing golf? Visiting his mother between her United Daughters of the Confederacy meetings? Alexa pressed her lips tightly together, as the elevator stopped in the lobby and they got out.

“I’m sorry,” Alexa said with a sigh and kissed her. It wasn’t so bad now, at seventeen, but Alexa had been furious when Savannah was little and he didn’t show up and her big blue eyes filled with tears and she tried so hard to be brave. It broke Alexa’s heart to see it, but Savannah could handle it better now. And Savannah excused her father for nearly everything he did. “If his plans change, we can always go to Miami for the weekend, or skiing. We’ll figure something out.”