Jack frowned. "Yeah. It's the woman Genny was talking to at the bar last night."
"The woman who apparently doesn't exist," she said.
"Now, retrieve the tapes of the building for around the murder time, and show them on a different screen."
The young officer did. A few minutes in, she again found what she was looking for. "Freeze it," she said again, and silently pointed to the image on the screen.
"The old women," Jack said, expression incredulous.
"Walking away when she was supposedly knocked out. What the hell is going on?"
"Grey told me that our killer is a freak even among the freaks. He wouldn't explain it, but I think I now know." Her gaze went back to the screen, studying the woman who was neither old nor a woman. "Our killer is a face shifter, all right, but he's something no one thought could exist—a hermaphrodite. A shifter able to take on both male and female form."
"And he's killing these women because he hates his female half," Jack said flatly.
"At a guess, yes. Why else mutilate these women the way he has?"
Jack scrubbed a hand across his face. "This doesn't exactly help us catch him."
She bit her lip, staring at the frozen image of the dark-
haired woman entering the building. "Maybe it does," she said slowly. "Look at her. Doesn't she rather resemble her—his—
victims? What if that's her true form? What if she's only killing women who look like her?"
"Then we may finally have a picture to circulate. John, get us a good, close shot. And keep playing the second tape. Let's see where the old woman goes." Jack glanced at her. "If Grey was telling the truth about the number of victims, this only leaves us one—you."
She crossed her arms and began watching the tape. The fake old woman toddled up the street. "I was 'volunteered' into this to play bait. I still think that's the way to go."
"Not if you're going to end up dead."
"I have no plans to end up dead."
"I'm sure the other women would have said the same thing."
She gave him a grin. "But I have the advantage of knowing trouble might be headed my way. Besides, Grey seemed convinced that it would happen only if I went to the bar tonight."
"Grey obviously doesn't know everything, else he would have caught the killer long before now."
"True." On the screen, the old woman stepped to the curb and began waving. Soon enough, a yellow cab slid to a stop beside her.
"Get that cab's plate number, and see where he took the old woman," Jack ordered. The second of the two men in the van nodded. Jack glanced back to her. "I'm going to put a watch on your apartment. And you're going to wear tracking and audio tags at all times."
"I think that's going to extremes."
"I don't—" He stopped as his cell phone beeped again.
"What is this, peak hour?" he muttered, as he reached to answer it. He was silent for a few seconds, then his silver brows rose as he glanced at her. "It's for you."
"Me?" she said, surprised. She took the phone and said, "Hello?"
"Eryn? It's Grey. Sorry to contact you via your boss, but I couldn't think of any other way to get hold of you."
Just the sound of his warm, rich voice made her heart race
… and yet, there was something in his tone that made her frown. Some lack that wasn't quite right. "What's the problem?"
"We need to meet."
"Why?"
His chuckle was a low sound of desire that should have sent heat rushing across her skin. It didn't, and that only made her frown all the more.
"Why do you think?" he murmured sexily.
"Even you can't be that insatiable."
"When it comes to you, I'm afraid I am."
She bit her lip. Damn it, something was definitely off kilter, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly what.
She glanced at Jack, silently mouthing "trace the call," then said, "I'm actually not sure if I'm even speaking to you after what you did this morning."
He paused, almost for too long, then said, "I was only trying to protect you."
Her heart began to race, but with fear rather than excitement. "Knocking me out like that wasn't nice."
"But what we did beforehand was damned nice."
"Nothing like a sofa tango," she agreed. Jack gave her the thumbs up, so she added, "Where would you like to meet?"
"How about your place?"
No way in hell. "How about you buy me dinner? I think you owe me that, at least."
"It's a little late, don't you think?"
"Not considering I haven't eaten all day."
He blew out a breath. "I'm afraid I don't know this city well."
He didn't? When his sister lived here? Not likely. "How about the diner where we had breakfast, then?"
He paused, and again it was overly lengthy. "Fine. How about we say in an hour?"
She glanced at her watch. It was nearly eleven-thirty.
"How about we say at one? I've still got work to do."
"Fine. And don't bother to dress too fancy," he added, his husky tone sending chills rather than warmth across her skin, "because I don't plan for you to be wearing clothes for all that long."
"Can't wait," she said, and quickly disconnected.
"What was all that about?" Jack asked, shoving the phone back into his pocket.
"That was Grey, wanting to meet me."
He studied her for a moment, his expression a little confused. "You've said all along you trust him and that he's not the killer, so what's the problem?"
"I don't think it was actually Grey calling me. I think it may have been the killer."
"Why?"
"I'm not exactly sure." She hesitated. "This may sound strange, but I think it was more the lack of reaction inside me rather than anything he actually said."
Jack didn't quibble. "Then I was right—he is after you."
She nodded. "Where did the call come from?"
Jack glanced at the second of his men, who said, "Empty warehouse in the Yanga Park district."
She looked at Jack. "I'll bet he's holding Grey hostage in that warehouse. And I bet that's where he plans to take me after we meet at the diner."
"Again, why?"
"To kill me, of course."
He shook his head. "I mean, why hold Grey?"
"Grey said the killer hated him. He didn't say why."
"Then taking you to that warehouse to kill you is a form of torturing Grey?"
She nodded. It also meant that the killer had read Grey's mind and knew how much he cared for her.
It was a thought that sent both warmth and fear rushing through her veins. God, would fate be such a bitch as to let her glimpse possible paradise in Grey's arms, then snatch it away?
Probably.
Ignoring the chill that ran down her spine, she glanced at her watch. "If we're quick, we might be able to get to that warehouse and rescue Grey before I go to that meet."
Jack didn't move. "You sure you want to do this?"
"You want to catch the killer, don't you?"
"Yeah, but—" "No buts," she said, with a slight smile. "You brought me onto this team to play decoy, and that's exactly what I plan to do. And it might be our one and only chance to stop this person.
Jack stared at her a moment longer, then simply said, "Let's do it."
The wind skated around her bare legs, touching her skin with ice. Eryn shivered and rubbed her arms as she eyed the old building at the bottom of hill. Like most of the buildings around here, it had fallen into disrepair as the council and residents argued over whether this whole area should become park land or more residential space. In the meantime, it was a playground for louts, drug users, and the homeless, as well as being a nice hidey-hole for murderers.
She turned at the sound of footsteps and watched Jack approach.
"The cab let the old women off at The Commodore Hotel," he said, as he stopped.
"Hard to check the register when you have no idea what name she's using."