Curses from a man yelling at an arresting officer traveled into the office area. Trevor’s brother, Ethan, leaned over his shoulder and read the plastic encased note from Lara’s intruder out loud.

“You are my new Indian Princess. I’m watching everything you do. I need you alive. You’re my ticket to fame.” He stepped back three feet and sat in his squeaky desk chair. “This creep doesn’t beat around the bush, does he?”

Trevor swiveled around. “No, he doesn’t.” His gut churned.

“From the short, choppy sentences, he knows what he wants. His use of the word, need implies he’s desperate.”

Ethan was right. “The idea that someone’s watching her scares the crap out of me. I’ve asked Phil to do a sweep for bugs at the lab and at Lara’s house. It’s as if he knows where she is and where she’s going.”

“She’s staying at your place for the time being, right?”

“Just for a day or two until I find somewhere else that’s safe. Since she wasn’t harmed or directly threatened, the department wouldn’t spring for a safe house.”

“Better with you than staying alone. How did she react to moving into a one-bedroom apartment with a cop?”

Savvy Ethan. “Not so good. She bucked at first, but Christ, at four a.m. there weren’t many places for her to go. I wasn’t about to dump her off at some hotel. Something will turn up.”

“I hope you slept on the sofa.” His brother winked.

“No. We had wild passionate sex in the shower, on the kitchen counter and finally, in a state of exhaustion, in my bed.” If only. “Of course, I slept on the sofa.”

“You’ve known her what? A week? You’re usually not such a fast mover.” Ethan leaned back in his seat and grinned. The damned chair squeaked again.

His brother was baiting him. “Have you known me to date anyone since I’ve been down here?”

“Since Claire died? No, but she’s been gone two years. You have to move on with your life.”

He didn’t need to discuss that tired subject. “I did move on by quitting Vice, then by leaving New York. At least being in Missing Person’s or Homicide, I won’t piss off the person I’m going after.”

“Other than the killer.” Ethan wrapped his hands behind his head in an obvious attempt to look relaxed. “In truth, I don’t want you to take up so much of Lara’s time that she isn’t able to help me find out who killed those two men in the coffin.”

“So that’s all you care about. Don’t worry. Lara is focused on working your case.”

“Perfect.”

A bit of guilt tackled him. “She did come along to interview Mrs. Jumper, but I know her main concern is working with you.”

Ethan cocked a brow. “Bringing a civilian along is never a good idea, bro.”

“I know, but I needed her expertise.”

“Then we have to make sure this maniac doesn’t harm her.” His gaze shot to the paper, and he cleared his throat. “If I were you, I’d zero in on the Indian Princess part as being our biggest clue.”

He understood. Ethan’s case came first. “I agree. Lara told me there’s a guy, Bernie Laxman, who works in the DNA lab at HOPEFAL who has the hots for her. He calls her his Indian Princess. He’s a thirty-five year old Caucasian.”

“Are you going to talk to him?”

He waved a hand. “Already sent someone to interview him. He has an alibi for last night if we can believe his dad.”

“His dad?”

“Yeah. He lives with him.”

More shouts came from around the corner, and Trevor looked up. A hooker was in custody, and what appeared to be her pimp was following her to lock up.

Ethan waved a hand for Trevor’s attention. “It wouldn’t be the first time a parent lied to protect his son.”

“You got that right. I just got off the phone with Phil before you arrived. The HR department at HOPEFAL does intense background checks before they hire anyone, but if this is Bernie Laxman’s first offense, the lab wouldn’t have anything on him.”

“So where does that leave you?”

Being deaf, Lara was vulnerable enough. She didn’t need a crazy after her. If anything happened to her, he’d never be able to live with himself. She needed his help. “At least he wants her alive.”

“For now.”

His brother’s words tightened every muscle in his chest. “What I don’t get is why send the note? Why warn her to be careful? It makes no sense.”

His brother shrugged. “He needs her as his ticket to fame, whatever that means.”

A hurt, raw and sharp, clawed at Trevor’s gut. “She was careless last night when she went out jogging. She slipped and fell into the road, and a car clipped her hip and sent her sprawling. Maybe he knew about her accident.”

Ethan’s eyes widened. “A car hit her?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“You think the person who hit Lara did so on purpose in order to write the note?”

He turned back to face his brother. “I already asked her that. Lara said a teenage girl ran into her, and the kid was very upset.”

“Then we’re back to square one.”

He blew out a breath. “Why Lara? What about her could possibly help someone rise to fame?”

Ethan shrugged. “Could his warning be related to our double skeleton case?”

“I hope to hell not.”

“If the note is related to our case, I’ll be damned to know how stopping the investigation can help him. Besides, he would have warned me too.” Ethan twirled a yellow pencil over his knuckles, a skill Trevor had failed to master.

He squeezed the chair’s arm as his brother continued his twirling act. “Or he wants her to find the identity of the two skeletons. The case might bring the killer notoriety, which might be something he craves.”

The pencil act stopped. “You think this guy wants to get caught?”

“I don’t know. You’re better at profiling than I am.”

Ethan dropped the pencil on his scarred desk and leaned forward. “Tell me this. Let’s assume for the moment that the person who wrote the note killed both men in the coffin. How did he learn Lara was even working the case?”

“The press was all over the gruesome discovery of the coffin. Sixteen-year old girl dies and a coffin is already in her grave. It made for good headlines. The article might have even mentioned HOPEFAL was working the case.”

Ethan picked up the pencil again and waved it at him. “Then how did he know specifically Lara would be analyzing the bones?” He bounced the eraser on the desk.

“The only way he would know is if he had connections in HOPEFAL.” The tap, tap, tap irritated the hell out of Trevor. “Christ, will you stop with the damn eraser?”

Not breaking eye contact, Ethan shoved the pencil in the drawer. “You and I both know it takes a special invitation from the Pope, as well as a personal call from the head of the FBI, to get inside HOPEFAL.” Trevor shot him a look. Ethan bobbled his head and waved a hand. “So I exaggerated.”

“Are you thinking it’s an inside job? It’s happened there before.”

Ethan’s gaze ran up to the ceiling and back. “Quite possibly.”

“Christ. Even though Laxman has an alibi, it could be him.” Trevor rubbed his eyes. His brain was too fogged to think straight. He hadn’t slept a wink last night, waiting for someone to come for Lara. “That worries me more than some random serial killer running around.”

“Maybe Lara leaked information about the case to some newspaper person about what she was investigating.”

He needed time to absorb that concept. “That’s a stretch, but I’ll ask her. From what she told me, she keeps to herself. She admitted she has no close friends and her parents are currently out of town.”

That sounded lame. There were cell phones. She could have spoken to her folks about the case, and they could have told someone, but that possibility didn’t seem likely.

“You follow up with that angle, bro, and I’ll talk to the cemetery owner again to see if one of his people took an interest in my double coffin case.”

Trevor raked a hand through his hair as he tried to piece together what they’d missed. “You’re the homicide detective with the degree in psychology, can’t you figure out a profile for someone who would write that kind of threat?”

Ethan leaned forward. “Sure. What does Lara look like?”

“What does that have to do with profiling the criminal?” His brother grinned. Trevor didn’t like the cocky attitude one bit. “And why haven’t you interviewed her yet? I would have thought she’d be on the top of your list since she studied the bodies.”

Ethan’s smile disappeared. “I received her very thorough report. I didn’t think she’d have much to add at the moment, but I will talk to her later.”

He didn’t like the quick upraised brows and refused to identify his reaction as jealousy. Hell, he’d only known her a week, yet her independent attitude was growing on him.

“Go on,” Ethan said. “Tell me about her.”

Trevor struggled with a way to describe her without his interest coloring his description. If he refused to answer, Ethan would hound him non-stop. “She’s maybe five-seven, five-eight, thin, olive skin, and wears her brown hair in a long braid down her back.” No need to mention those long legs, curves in the right spot, and very nice breasts.

Another smile caught Ethan’s lips. “She pretty?”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?” He turned his head toward the ringing phone four desks away, avoiding Ethan’s probing gaze.

“Your clinical description tells me you like her.”

He’d never been able to fool his older brother. Ever. “I do like her, but how much can you know a person in a week?” A bit relieved he’d admitted he was attracted to her, he waved the note. “So what about this guy?”

Ethan picked up the paper, his gaze focused and his smile a distant memory. “The guy’s careful. You said CSU found no prints anywhere. The typed note implies he doesn’t want his identity known. Handwriting analysis is quite good these days, and I bet he knows that.” He scratched his head. “As I said before, the note writer has a very defined goal, which makes him dangerous.”

Before they could brainstorm what to do about Lara’s situation, Captain Willard strode out of his office and made a beeline to them. Their boss seemed to move at one speed—fast.

“Ethan, I have a new case for you.”

His brother pressed his lips together. “Another one?”

He could sympathize. All he had were a few missing persons currently on his plate, and he didn’t have the time to do any one of them justice. Ethan had other cases to investigate and was lead on the double coffin case.

His brother swiped a hand across his brow. “Who’d you find?”

“Not sure exactly. A couple fishing at Lake Keystone caught something on their line. When they reeled it in, they’d hooked a fresh arm. Needless to say, they freaked. The cut was clean, so the authorities know it wasn’t the result of a feisty alligator chowing down its dinner.”

“That would spoil your day.” Ethan chuckled and shot a glance at Trevor. “You want to tag along?” His gaze ping-ponged back to the captain. “I could use Trevor’s help. He did Homicide back in New York.”

“I know. I’m fine with it if he can spare the time.”

“I can catch up on my work at the apartment tonight.” He needed to stay home and watch Lara anyway.

Ethan stood. “Lake Keystone isn’t our jurisdiction. Why are we involved, Cap?”

“The sheriff over there called. He doesn’t have the manpower to handle the salvage. The HOPEFAL lab has a dive team on standby, so he called them in, and they called us. We’re there simply to assist. You okay with that?”

“Yup. Do you think this case is related to one of ours?”

“Always possible.”

Captain Willard spun around before either of them had a chance to ask for more details.

Ethan looked down at him. “What are you waiting for?”

“Nothing.” Answers and assurances, two things he wouldn’t get unless he got his ass into the car and saw the scene for himself.

During the thirty-minute ride to the four hundred plus acre lake, he and Ethan batted around possible persons of interest for Lara’s case but came up empty-handed.

Police cars, vans, and cruisers lined the crime scene along the north shore, one of the few areas where houses didn’t butt up against the water. He and Ethan strode over to a clearing, forty feet from the water’s edge. The Medical Examiner had set up a portable table next to a drop cloth that contained his tools of the trade.

His brother patted him on the back. “What do you make of all this?”

“Me?”

“You have a lot more experience as a homicide detective than I do.”

“Four whole years.”

“Still more.”

He shrugged and checked out the Medical Examiner’s badge. The nametag read, Willows.

A CSU tech rushed up and handed the ME a severed arm sticking out of a paper bag that was missing a hand. Before Trevor could ask any questions, a diver shouted from the water. As the two of them rushed to the lake, mud oozed over the top of his shoes. This was definitely not his day.

Three men in scuba gear trudged onto land. Two carried a headless female torso tied down with cement blocks, and the third carried a leg. Trevor’s gut soured.

He and Ethan followed them back up to the ME’s cordoned off area. Trevor stepped up to the diver who looked in charge and flashed his badge. “Where exactly did you find her?”

The divers deposited what was left of the body on the plastic drop cloth. “Everywhere. There’s a swift current at the bottom. We found the torso about twenty-feet from the arm, but the leg was a good hundred yards away. Never did find either hand or the rest of her. The lake’s big.”

Willows looked up at the diver. “So where’s the damn head?”

The diver ripped off his headgear. “With all due respect, with the mud and sludge down there, we were lucky to find what we did. As I told this guy, the current’s a bitch.”

“Bitch or not. I need the head.”

The spokesman turned back to the other two divers. “Let’s go, men.” His voice came out gruff.

Trevor studied the remains. Given the amount of soft tissue still on the body, he guessed the woman had been submerged less than a week.

Ethan spun around and trotted toward the water.

Trevor went after him. “What are you thinking?”

“We’ve got a real psycho on our hands.”

“Ya think?”

Ethan shoved a hand in his pocket and looked out over the lake. “Those divers better find that head.”

“What we really need is for this case to have no relation to mine or yours. I don’t want this sick bastard near Lara.”

“Amen.”

For over ten minutes, they watched the divers surface, motion to each other, and dive again. He turned to his brother. “We’re wasting our time here. Let’s see what the doc has come up with.”

They picked their way back across the soggy path to the ME’s camp. Willows glanced up.

“Do you have a fix on the time of death?” Trevor asked.

“Once the divers give me the temperature at the bottom of the lake, I’ll have a more precise estimate.”

“A guess is good.”

“I’d say two, three days tops.” Doc Willows lifted a thick rope attached to three cement blocks wound around the woman’s waist. “Algae didn’t have time to grow on the line, which means she hasn’t been down long.”

Trevor squatted to get a different view of the body. Without the head, identification would be hard but not impossible. He hadn’t received any missing persons calls in the last week, but if her chipped, black toenail polish, silver toe ring, and lack of sagging skin were any indication of her age, he’d say she was no more than twenty. What would possess someone to kill like this?

Ethan pointed to the yellow, braided rope. “What do you make of the knot? It’s rather unusual.” His gaze shot between him and the ME.

Dr. Willows leaned closer. “Never was into Boy Scouts, myself.”

Trevor knew. “It’s a bowline. The sucker will secure anything. I use it all the time when I rock climb. I’ll have to hand it to him. The scumbag did his research. He probably calculated the body weight to determine how much cement he needed to keep her submerged. Those blocks weren’t going anywhere. That knot, and this rope, will hold down hundreds of pounds. I guess he thought that if he tucked the severed arm under the body, it would stay submerged.”

Dr. Willows shot him a thumbs up.

He and Ethan stepped back to let the ME complete his examination. As Willows was finishing, the divers returned.

Willow’s jaw tightened. “You didn’t find anything?”

“Sorry, Doc. No luck.” The lead diver glanced at the sky. “A storm’s brewing and the wind’s kicking up. Visibility is getting near zero. We can try again tomorrow if you wish.”

His shoulders relaxed somewhat. “I’d appreciate it.”

Trevor stepped closer to the doc. “You going to send her to HOPEFAL?”

“Those were my instructions. One less body to process suits me just fine.”

He gave the doc some room and turned to Ethan. “Somebody has to be missing her. I want to check back at the office to see if anyone called her in while we were here.”

“You’re the boss.”

After giving the ME his card, he and Ethan headed back. At his desk, Trevor checked his three phone messages. “Shit.”

Ethan leaned back in his squeaky chair and swiveled toward him. “What?”

“I think we may have found her.”

“Who?”

“Our Keystone Lake woman.”

“That was fast. Who is she?”

He glanced down at his pad. “Mary Reed. Her mother called to report her missing. You won’t believe her ethnicity.”

“Don’t tell me she’s Native American?” Ethan reached across his desk and scooped up his coffee mug.

Trevor could use some black sludge right now. “Right on.” He sure as hell hoped this case wasn’t related to his missing Seminoles.

“What’s with you and those Indians? Eight of ten missing people have been from the same tribe.”

“Can we say vendetta?” There must be some clue he wasn’t seeing. Lara’s first impression was that of a hate crime, and maybe she’d been right.

“Our killer must not be a Native American.”

“That would be my guess. I don’t know what good that detail does us.” Trevor studied the name, trying to remember if he’d heard the last name of Reed before.

“What about the note to Lara. Could this be the same guy?”

Part of him wanted there to be a connection to help solve the crime, but another part didn’t want this filth in any way connected to her. “I don’t think so. Referring to Lara as an Indian Princess implies he likes Native Americans.” He leaned forward. “It’s almost as if he reveres them, or her, for some reason.”

Ethan took a sip of his coffee and his face relaxed. “If there is a connection to either case, the part that sickens me the most is the fact our serial killer is now gunning for women.”

His thoughts shot to Lara. Her dark coloring and long hair might fool the killer into thinking she was Seminole. Damn. “You aren’t helping. I’m going over to HOPEFAL to see if I can learn anything from the pathologist.”

Ethan glanced up at the large clock on the opposite wall. “I bet the body’s not even on the slab yet.”

“I’ll take my chances.” It wasn’t the only reason he wanted to go. He wanted, no needed, to make sure Lara was okay. “Mary’s mom told me about some identifying markings I should check out.”

“Did you tell her about the dismemberment?”

He fisted his hands. “Hell, no. I’d never mention the horror until we’re sure it’s her daughter. Do you want to come?”

“I have enough to keep me busy. Have fun.”

Right. Trevor shoved back his chair and nearly toppled it. On his way out, he made a cup of not-so-hot java to go. Outside, the day had turned both chilly and drizzly, a far cry from the typical Florida spring day. The small storm that had swept through the area had yet to dissipate. He debated calling Lara to let her know he was on the way but decided he’d let her work a little longer before he interrupted her.

Twelve minutes later, he pulled into the HOPEFAL parking lot. He checked the area for anyone who might be waiting for Lara to leave. Everyone looked like they had a purpose.

After signing in with the guard on duty, Trevor took the stairs to the second floor. The elevator was too damned slow. He punched in the key code to her lab and waited for the door to swing open. “Hey, Lara?”

No answer. Trevor looked around. She wasn’t there, but one of the gurneys in the middle of the room held remains. The hair on his neck bristled. Had Bernie done something to her? Trevor rushed out and headed straight for Phil Tedesco’s office. The head honcho might know where to find her, but Phil’s office was also vacant, and the secretary wasn’t at her desk. Damn.

As he strode back into the hallway, he nearly collided with Gina.

She grabbed his arms to stop him from plowing her over. “Hey, Trevor.”

“Do you know where Lara might be? She’s not in her lab.”

“Something wrong?”

Other than he needed to see she was okay? “No.”

Gina blew out a breath. “She’s in pathology. Eric Markowitz is doing the autopsy on the unidentified headless woman Pasco County sent over. We might need her to take a look at her once Eric finishes his examination.” Her eyes widened. “Have you found Lara’s intruder?”

He forced his shoulders to remain strong. “I wish. Where’s the lab?”

Gina told him where to find Lara, and he hightailed it down the stairs. With the butt of his gun, he rapped hard on the heavy steel door. A few moments passed before a thin male dressed in scrubs allowed him access.

“I’m looking for Lara.” As soon as Trevor spotted her, the tension left his body. He flashed his badge and slipped by the attendant.

The lab was set-up similar to hers, except there was no maceration station, and the far wall had more autopsy drawers than Lara’s. The ongoing autopsy also had an officer present.

The pathologist nodded and waved to get Lara’s attention.

Lara turned around, and her bright smile lifted a heavy veil from around his heart—a heart he’d shut down two years ago.

With as much ease as he could muster, he nodded to the officer witnessing the autopsy and stepped toward the work in progress. The gurney was hanging over a blood-filled sink, and containers on the counter held the removed organs.

“Mind suiting up, Mr. Kinsey?” Dr. Markowitz said, a slight smile touching his lips.

“Sure thing.”

“Allan, can you get the detective some gear?”

The lab tech’s lips peeled back into a sneer. He gathered the necessary coverings and tossed the pile at Trevor. What was his problem?

Once gowned, Trevor returned to the gurney. “Did you determine cause of death?” He kept his tone as even as possible as he looked everywhere but at Lara.

“No,” the pathologist said with more swagger than Trevor had expected. “Whoever did this, cut off her head, arms, and legs with a chainsaw. So if she was strangled, beaten about the face or shot in the head, I wouldn’t be able to tell.” His slightly bowed shoulders deflated. “I’ll do a tox screen, but I don’t expect to find much.”

“Chainsaw? Someone’s been watching too many horror movies. Do you have a time of death?”

“In the last forty-eight hours.”

That matched the ME’s estimate, take or give a day. He told them about Mary Reed and the time she’d disappeared. “Her mom said she had her appendix taken out.”

Dr. Markowitz’s cheeks sagged. “Our victim is missing hers, but there are a lot of people who’ve had their appendixes taken out. Did her mother mention a butterfly tattoo?”

Crap. “The first thing I asked about was any markings. She said her daughter didn’t have any tattoos because the dad would have disowned her.”

Eric held up the victim’s arm where a colorful butterfly tattoo was etched on her inner wrist. “Then I guess you need to keep looking for this woman’s identity.”

Christ. He wanted one case to go smoothly. He touched Lara’s shoulder. “Can I talk to you outside for a moment?”

She widened her eyes. “Why?”

Always questioning. “I want you to—”

“I know. This girl could be Native American and I need to be careful.”

How did she read his mind so quickly? “In a nutshell. Yes.” His cell buzzed. He slipped it from his pocket and held up a finger. “It’s Ethan, excuse me.” He pressed the On button. “Yeah.”

“Is the woman in the lab Mary Reed?”

“No.”

“Figured. Another call came in, and you’re never going to believe what I found out.”