He turned the page around. Realized what he was looking at. And his heart stopped.
“Looks like a page torn out of a book,” the detective said, not noticing Alec’s shock. “Autographed. Maybe we should talk to the person who signed it, the Sam Dalton guy.”
“That’s a good idea,” Alec whispered. “A very good idea.”
Though Alec let her spend a half hour alone with Tricia, Sam knew he needed to question her. She had been loath to leave her poor, bruised, battered friend, but at least knew she’d be in good hands. Still, before she could leave, she’d needed to apologize, to explain as well as she could why she was partially to blame for what had happened.
“Bullshit, girl.” Tricia showed a hint of her usual spirit and her no-nonsense attitude. “Nobody’s to blame for this except the prick who did it.”
“I provoked him.”
“If you hadn’t provoked him, maybe he’d have stayed underground a little longer, slaughtering a few more people along the way before he popped his slimy head up out of his hole.” Tricia’s voice was weak, but her grip pretty strong as she clenched Sam’s hand. “Don’t you regret this. I’m fine. A little banged up, but”-Tricia released her hand and glanced at her own lap-“the doctor says I wasn’t, uh, violated in any way.”
Thank you, God.
“I know that’s all my parents will care about,” Tricia added. “They’ll be here in a couple of hours-they’re driving up from North Carolina.”
Sam bent to kiss her cheek, whispering, “I know you’re all tough and bad, but I also know that your mind was raped even if your body wasn’t.”
Thick tears fell from her friend’s pretty eyes, confirming what Sam had suspected: Tricia wasn’t as okay about this as she was trying to pretend.
“I’ll be there for you,” Sam added. “I promise. As soon as you get out of here, I’m coming over to take care of you, nurse you back to health.”
Tricia’s bruised mouth quirked. “You? Leave your cocoon?”
“No more cocoon for me. This caterpillar has become a butterfly at last.”
“It’s about time. I gotta meet this guy.”
“You’ve met him,” Sam said, not surprised at how well her friend knew her, either.
“Sex on a stick?”
“Uh-huh.”
Tricia’s wan smile and murmured, “You go, girl,” revealed how tired she was.
Regretting keeping her from sleep, Sam stood, kissed her forehead, and left the room. Tricia would be okay; she was a survivor. But oh, God, had it been another close call.
Hearing Alec’s voice, she wandered toward the waiting room. Most of his coworkers were there: Jackie Stokes, Mulrooney, and Taggert. They were huddled together, talking in whispers.
“What is it?” Sam asked.
As if they were being jerked by the same string, all four immediately focused their attention on her. “Sam, I need you to look at something.” Alec lifted a clear plastic Baggie that contained a single sheet of paper.
Seeing a few scrawled words, she swallowed hard and crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that the note?”
“Yes, it is.” He flipped it over, showing her the other side.
She had to look twice before she grasped it. Then she realized what it was. Somehow, she felt no surprise. Nothing this psychotic madman did could surprise her anymore.
“He’s met me,” she said flatly.
“Apparently so.”
The sheet was the inside title page from one of her books. It had been torn out; the top area, where she usually personalized inscriptions, was missing. All that remained was the title, and her cheerily scrawled, Stay safe in cyber land! Below it was her signature.
“I know it will be next to impossible for you to remember whom you signed it to, but if you could give us information on any of your book signings…”
She shook her head. “No.”
“You can’t?”
“I mean, no, it’s not impossible.” A bitter pleasure rose up within her. “That bastard may have made the mistake that will lead you right to him.”
All the other team members listened closely.
“I have a special brand of pen I use for my signings. Very specific, smooth, just the right texture and consistency.” She nodded toward the page. “And it’s not red. Not ever.”
“This is a forgery?” Jackie Stokes asked.
She shook her head. “It’s mine. I did a signing after giving a guest lecture right after my book came out, almost a year ago. My trusty favorite pen sprang a leak and got black ink all over my skirt. Someone stuck a replacement in my hand so I could finish the autographing.”
Alec muttered a triumphant, “Yes! A red pen.”
“It gets better. The event was part of an attendees-only legal symposium at a local college, for the police, lawyers, judges, and the like. Uncle Nate was involved; he brought me in to talk about cyber crime.”
“Excellent.” Mulrooney chortled. “We’ll get hold of the list of attendees.”
“And your unsub’s name should be on it,” Sam said.
“What’s your uncle Nate’s number?” Alec asked. “He can tell us who the organizers were.”
She gave it to him, feeling so confident they’d finally made a breakthrough, she wanted to throw her arms around Alec’s neck and kiss him. She didn’t, of course. His boss might not be here, but it was still inappropriate.
Curious about that, she asked, “Where is Agent Blackstone, anyway?”
“I have no idea,” Alec said, sounding thoughtful. “Strange that he’s been out of touch for this long. Brandon said he was going to keep trying to reach him. Maybe that’s why he’s not here yet.”
The others echoed him, Jackie adding,“I’ve left three or four messages. I couldn’t get in touch with Lily, either.”
Alec frowned. “I hope nothing happened with that other case she was working on.”
The rest of the group appeared curious, but didn’t ask questions. They all had other things to do. Alec got on the phone with Uncle Nate. Jackie interviewed Sam about Tricia’s life and habits. The others talked to the detective.
When they were finished, Sam asked, “Where is the man who brought her in? I want to thank him.”
“He went for coffee,” Jackie said. “He’s a good guy, doesn’t want to leave until he knows she’s okay.”
Remembering what Alec had muttered in the car about the Good Samaritan, she felt the same rush of pleasure, not only because Tricia was okay, but that the Professor had failed. He hadn’t anticipated a good guy, only rapists and killers who might easily have attacked Tricia, or left her for dead.
And while they hadn’t confirmed that the man her mother had intended to meet was the same one who’d attacked Tricia, Sam would lay money it was true. Meaning the bastard had been foiled twice in one night. That made her doubly grateful. Somewhere, someone was watching out for those Sam loved. She only hoped the guardian angel stuck around long enough to ensure she survived, too.
A short time later, as Sam stood in Tricia’s room, watching her repeatedly thank her rescuer, Alec entered. “We’re going to take off now.”
“We?”
“I want you here, safe and sound, with the detective and the officer watching you. Jackie, Kyle, Dean, and I will go to the college.” He frowned. “I hate for all of us to go, but without Wyatt, Brandon, and Lily, we’re a little shorthanded. The professor who organized the symposium sounds very disorganized. There are apparently a bunch of boxes to sort through, and I want to get through them as quickly as possible.”
“You’re sure you don’t need my help?”
“I’m sure. I just want you protected, Sam. Right here, with lots of people-and police officers-around you. I’ll come back here with any lists we can get, copies of credit card slips, whatever, and together we’ll go over the information, okay? You stay here with your friend.”
Her friend was still softly chatting with the big, dangerous-looking man who’d saved her, eyeing him as if he were a cuddly teddy bear. “She’s going to be okay,” Sam whispered, as much to herself as to Alec.