If she was worried, Catherine Rawlings did not appear so to the room full of police officers. She paid little attention to the logistics and strategies they were planning. Her mind was already fashioning her own plan of action. She wanted to be emotionally prepared to meet the man who most people would consider hopelessly insane. Her training had taught her to reserve such judgment until she had first-hand experience. In this case, she had no idea what form that experience might take, and she knew that being caught off guard could mean her life. Nevertheless, there was a part of her that looked forward to the opportunity that few professionals in her position would ever have. She was actually startled when Rebecca came to her and told her it was time to leave.

"Is the wire comfortable," Rebecca asked as they headed down the corridor to the rear exit.

Catherine smiled. "I wont be sorry to take it off."

"You know Ill be right behind you all the time. If you sense anything at all -- a stranger approaching who looks odd, a noise that seems out of place, just whisper. Ill have a receiver. Ill hear you."

When they reached the car, Catherine turned to Rebecca. "I know youll be there. Thats what makes me feel safe. Dont take any chances. I dont think hell hurt me, at least not right away. He wants to talk to me, to boast of his actions. He doesnt want to kill me. And I dont want you to get hurt."

"I hope youre right," Rebecca said grimly.But Im not giving him the chance to change his mind. As soon as he shows, its over.

Watts was already sitting in the car that would follow Catherine. Rebecca motioned that she would be right there. Now that she was faced with actually letting Catherine go, she wasnt sure she could do it. Every image she had suppressed of his victims flooded her consciousness, and every one had Catherines face. Her arm encircled Catherines waist, as if she could shield her from the unknown with the force of her presence.

"Catherine, I" She wanted to sayI love you, but the words were blocked by the terror of losing her.

Catherine read the mute agony in her lovers face, and softly disengaged herself from Rebeccas embrace. "You can tell me later, darling. Be safe." Quickly she slid into the car and started the engine. She was afraid that if she looked at Rebecca again, her own resolve would weaken. She needed all her strength to do what she felt must be done.

Watts pulled the unmarked police car up beside Rebecca and pushed the passenger door open. "Get in, Frye. Its time to earn our pay. And to nail this prick."

Rebeccas mind held Catherines image with the clarity of a photograph. She felt her fear turn to anger, and her anger focus into a raging fire in the depths of her soul. This was one woman he would not touch. His reign of terror over the women of this city was over. Rebecca took a deep breath, locked her eyes on Catherines car ahead of them, and nodded.

"Right. Lets do it."

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Catherine made steady progress across town in the late rush hour traffic. She searched several times for signs of Rebecca and Watts behind her, but she could see no trace of them. She put it from her mind, reassuring herself with the knowledge that theywerethere somewhere. She was surprised to find her hands were shaking as she lifted the damp envelope from its hiding place. She brought it to the car, as she had been directed, before opening it.

"Walk north on the bike path along the water," she read out loud, wondering if the police could really hear her. She reread the single sentence several times, thinking it was odd that he had chosen that path. The hard-packed dirt path had been nearly abandoned after a wider, paved path had been built nearer to the highway.Of course,she thought, smiling at her own naveté,this route is perfect for someone who doesnt want to be noticed.

Rebecca, however, didnt miss the significance for a second. "Hell," she groaned. "That trail is four miles long and a lot of it is overgrown with brush. He could be anywhere!"

"Well, at least youll have good cover," Watts replied with uncharacteristic optimism.

"There she goes," Rebecca said, reaching for the door handle. She was surprised by Wattss restraining grip on her arm.

"Give her a few minutes, Frye. You know where shes headed. If hes watching and sees you now, the deals off. And I say the lady is safer now than she would be if wedidntknow when he was coming."

Rebecca forced herself to watch Catherines figure blur into the trees at the waters edge before she left the car. Watts would drive slowly along the road that meandered through the park, trying to stay in the same vicinity by the bearings Rebecca transmitted to him by radio. It left Catherine and Rebecca fairly isolated, but it was the best they could do.

"Theres a runner coming this way," Catherines voice announced in her ear, startling Rebecca with its clarity. She couldnt see Catherine, who was several hundred yards ahead of her. The dense foliage near the water made for poor visibility, especially in the rapidly deepening darkness.

"I have contact with her, Watts," Rebecca relayed into her own tiny microphone. "Were about a half mile in along the trail. Nothing yet."

"Hes passing," Catherine continued, a touch of relief in her voice.

Two women runners passed Rebecca from behind. A male cycler followed close thereafter. Rebecca noted his general description, but she didnt see anything suspicious about him. She relayed their general location to Watts again, knowing that he would direct the other officers staked out in the park in tandem with them as much as possible.

"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.