arlie turned back to the television reporter. “Yes, I’m Marlie Keen,” she said coldly.

“Ms. Keen, have you been working with the Orlando Police Department to help them locate the killer?”

“Yes.” The one word was clipped. She could barely contain her fury, her sense of betrayal.

Dane put his hand out, as if to block the camera, but Marlie knocked it aside. Cheri Vaughn plunged ahead. “In what way have you aided them, Ms. Keen?”

“I gave them the killer’s description.”

“How did you know what he looked like? Did you have a psychic vision?”

Again Dane moved in front of her, his rough face furious. Marlie sidestepped. This was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? She was going to deliver, in spades. “Something like that. I know the killer the way no one else does. He’s not a dream man, unless you’re into nightmares,” she said, borrowing Esther’s words. “He’s a worm, a coward who gets his jollies by attacking women—”

“That’s enough!” Dane roared, pushing the camera down and grabbing Marlie’s arm with his other hand, his fingers biting into her soft flesh. “You people leave this scene, now.”

Cheri Vaughn blinked at him, looking both frightened and elated. Marlie didn’t have to guess how the reporter felt; she knew. She had come here to act a part, with the promise of some news, but she had walked into a sensational gold mine. Her stock at the station had just gone stratospheric.

Still gripping her arm, Dane hustled Marlie to the car, putting her in on the driver’s side and shoving her over to make room for himself. He slammed the door and turned the key in the ignition. “What the hell were you doing?” he said from between clenched teeth.

She could feel the white heat of his rage, but she wasn’t impressed. “What you wanted me to do,” she replied bitterly. “Attracting the killer’s attention. Wasn’t that the whole point of the exercise?”

Dane thought of denying it, but realized there wasn’t any point in it. She wouldn’t believe any denials he could come up with, and he was so angry right now that he wasn’t inclined to try. “Attract his attention, yes, not drive him into a killing rage!”

“But now you can be certain he’ll come after me. He won’t forgive an attack on his ego.” She was facing forward, not even glancing at him as he drove.

Dane took a firm grip on his temper. He had known she wouldn’t like being exposed as a psychic, but he hadn’t expected her to immediately realize he had set up the entire situation, or to react by goading and taunting the killer.

“How did you know?” he asked a moment later, his voice as grim as his face. “Did you read my mind?”

“You can’t get over your fear of that, can you?” she gibed. “You can relax; your head’s too thick for me to get even a glimmer from you. But the reporter was a different story. She might as well have been carrying a sign. Why didn’t you call her anonymously?”

“She knows me, knows my voice. Besides, I owed her a favor for some information she got for me last year. Breaking a story would help her at the station.”

“Then by all means, if it will help her, throw me to the wolves,” she said, her voice flat. Now that the first shock of betrayal and exposure had passed, several likelihoods had presented themselves, none of them pleasant. She had fretted over his lack of commitment, over the way they had never even discussed their relationship, and now she knew why. For Dane, there was no commitment; he had simply been marking time until the killer struck again, so he could put his plan into action. He had played her perfectly, setting her up for that scene. She thought of what it had cost her to go to that house, and got even angrier.

“I haven’t thrown you to the wolves!” he snapped.

“Haven’t you? You’ve set me up as bait.”

“Damn it, he’s not going to get anywhere near you! Do you think I’d take a chance on something like that happening? I’ve arranged for a policewoman to take your place. She’s already at your house. All you have to do is pack some clothes, and I’ll take you to a safe house until it’s over.”

“No,” she said, just as flatly as before.

He slammed his fist onto the steering wheel. “Don’t fight me on this, Marlie. You don’t have a choice.”

“I’m not going to a safe house.” She thought of being confined for days, perhaps weeks, with shifts of officers to guard her, and knew she couldn’t tolerate it. Her nerves were already raw; that would simply be too much.

Very evenly he said, “I can take you into protective custody and lock you in a cell, if you’d prefer. I don’t think you’d like it.”

She whirled on him, incensed by the threat. “I don’t think you would either, Hollister. I can’t stop you from doing it, but I promise you that I’ll make your life miserable if you do.”

“For God’s sake, use your common sense! You can’t stay in your house. Or do you think I’d planned to actually use you as a tethered goat?”

“Why not? Why stop short of that? Using me has been your plan all along, hasn’t it? Personally, I think you carried it a little far by moving in with me, but I suppose you needed to be on hand when I had another vision, so you could get the ball rolling.”

His head snapped around. “Just what you are saying?”

“That if you’d bothered to ask me, Detective, I’d have gone along with your plan if it would help flush out the killer. I hate being exposed by the media, because this will wreck my life again, but I’d have done it. You didn’t have to sacrifice your body for the cause.”

Furiously he slammed on the brakes, stopping the car with a force that jerked her forward in her seat. Luckily there was no one behind them or they’d have been rear-ended. He was as infuriated as she. “Getting involved with you has nothing to do with this!”

“Doesn’t it? I’ve been puzzled by the situation from the very beginning. Can you honestly say that you didn’t have this plan in mind before you moved in?”

His jaw worked. “No.” Damn if he’d lie.

“I didn’t think so.”

“Moving in wasn’t part of the plan.”

“It was just too much to resist, wasn’t it?” she taunted.

Roughly he seized her shoulders. “You’re damn right it was. I wanted you, and when I got the opportunity to move in, I took it. Or maybe you think I’ve been faking all those hardons?”

“That doesn’t prove anything. I think you’d get an erection if a fly landed on you.” She tried to jerk away, but he tightened his grip.

Dane took another grip on his temper, the first one hadn’t lasted very long. “Our relationship has nothing to do with this. They’re two totally separate things.”

“If you say so,” she drawled, mimicking his accent.

“Damn it, Marlie—” An angry blast of a horn interrupted him, and he darted a furious glance into the rearview mirror. Several cars were lined up behind him. He stomped the accelerator. “We’ll finish this at the house, while you pack.”

“I’m not going to a safe house.” The words were stony, implacable. “I’m going to work tomorrow just like always. You’ve probably wrecked that, too. They’ll probably fire me, but I’m still going to try.”

“You aren’t going to be fired!”

She stared out the window. So he thought he could just use her to bait his trap, and afterward everything would return to normal? “You can pack, too.”

He slanted a look at her. “What?” He couldn’t stay at the safe house with her.

“I want your stuff out of my house.”

For the first time, the conviction in her voice pierced his impatient anger. Marlie wasn’t just upset; she was deeply, coldly furious, and she hadn’t believed a word he’d said. His stomach knotted. He inhaled deeply, reaching for control. “Okay. Maybe it’s for the best, for now. I’ll see you as often as I can at the safe house—”

“I am not going to a safe house. Can’t you understand English?”

“Maybe you don’t,” he said slowly. “Honey, I’m not giving you a choice in this. You can’t stay in your house.”

“Then I’ll stay in a motel, or rent an apartment. I am not going to be locked up because of your schemes. As much as I can, I’m going to live a normal life. I’m going to work, if I have a job, and I’m going to do normal things, like laundry and shopping and going to movies. I lived like a virtual prisoner for the first twenty-two years of my life. I’ll be damned if I let you lock me up again.”

He thrust his hand through his hair. God Almighty, he hadn’t expected her to dig in her heels like this. This was a Marlie he hadn’t seen since the first week he’d known her, and somehow he had let himself forget about her temper. The woman sitting beside him was seething like a volcano, and wasn’t likely to cooperate with him in anything he suggested. He decided to shut his mouth, for now, and cut his losses.

The remainder of the drive was accomplished in silence. When they reached her house, there was a strange car in her driveway, and Trammell’s sports car was parked out front. Marlie got out and went inside without looking at Dane.

Trammell and Grace were both there, as well as a young policewoman who resembled Marlie in size and general coloring. Trammell stood when Marlie entered, took one look at her face, and said, “Uh-oh.”

Coming in behind her, Dane sharply drew a finger across his throat, silencing any other comments.

Marlie turned in time to see the gesture. She gave Trammell a cool look. “Were you in on it too?”

He shifted uneasily. “Not until yesterday.” He had become accustomed to thinking of Marlie as someone who was vulnerable and needed protecting, but there was a look in those deep blue eyes that suddenly made him wary. Dane had told him about Gleen, but until this moment he really hadn’t seen her as a woman who, tied and helpless, had nevertheless spat defiance at a crazed killer. “I take it you’re unhappy.”

“A mite disturbed,” she said, her tone heavy with irony. “I barely lived through one attack from a maniac with a knife, so it bothers me to be set up as bait for another one.”

Dane flinched. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “You’ll be safe,” he said. “Do you think I’d have done it if there were any risk to you?”

She tilted her head, considering him. “Yes,” she finally said, and went into her bedroom.

Trammell whistled through his teeth. “I sense trouble in paradise.”

Grace gave Dane a dirty look. “I would think so,” she said, and followed Marlie into the bedroom.

The policewoman, Beverly Beaver, sat watching them uncomfortably. “Is the stakeout canceled?”

“No,” Dane answered. “You’re still on. As soon as I get Marlie settled, I’ll be back to help set up everything. We have time; the bit won’t be on until the evening news.”

Beverly said, “How are you going to keep the reporters away? The guy can’t get to me if a hundred reporters and photographers are camped on the front yard.”

“The television station is going to play it as a joke. The department will take a lot of heat for it, and the chief is going to say they’ve investigated Marlie and there isn’t anything to her claims. But the killer will know the truth, and he’ll come after her.” He paused. “Are you sure you want to do this, Bev?”

“I’m sure. I’m closest to her in size and coloring, and I’ve had advanced self-defense training. I’m the best choice.” Her voice was philosophical. Dane wasn’t fooled; Beverly had the reputation of being a tiger. She was chomping at the bit to be in on the stakeout, even though she knew she would have to let the killer get far too close for comfort, so they would have enough on him to make the charges stick.

“Okay.” He cast a harried glance toward the bedroom. “She’s refusing to go to a safe house.”

“We already have it set up,” Trammell said.

“Tell it to her. She’s agreed to leave, but she says she’s going to stay in a motel, or rent an apartment. She’s so mad at me that she won’t go along with anything I suggest.”

“I’ve got an idea. Maybe she’ll listen to me.”

“Give it a try.”

Marlie looked up from the bags she was packing when Trammell sauntered lazily into the bedroom. Grace was helping, taking garments out of the closet and placing them on the bed for Marlie to fold and pack in the suitcases. Dane leaned against the doorway, his face like a thundercloud as he watched her.

“Dane says you don’t want to go to a safe house,” Trammell began.

“That’s right.”

Grace gave her a quick, concerned look. “Marlie, it’s the best place for you.”

“Would you like being confined, possibly for weeks? It would drive me crazy. I’ve done whatever I can to help, and I refuse to be punished for it.”

“But it isn’t punishment,” Grace tried to explain. “It’s to keep you safe.”

“The best judge of whether or not something is punishment is the one on the receiving end,” Marlie replied. “I don’t mind being secluded; I even like it. But I can’t bear being confined.”

“A motel won’t be very comfortable,” Trammell said. “I have an idea. You’ll still need protection, so why don’t you move into Dane’s house? I’ve finished with the renovations, and got the furniture delivered yesterday. That way you’ll be more comfortable, and he’ll be with you at night.”

She gave him an icy glare. “That’s not a very good suggestion.”

“It’s the only workable solution.” Trammell countered her glare with a gentle smile. “I know it isn’t ideal, but it’s a compromise that will work, if you’ll let it. Dane won’t take you into protective custody, but I can tell you right now that the chief will order it and not blink an eye.”

Frustrated fury welled up in her, almost choking her. She didn’t want to stay in Dane’s house, didn’t want to be forced into intimacy with him. But Trammell, unfortunately, was right; the chief didn’t know her, and wouldn’t think twice about ordering her detained, for her own good.

“Trammell’s wrong,” Dane said softly, breaking into the silence. He met her angry gaze without blinking. “I will take you into custody. You might hate my guts for it, but I’ll do it if I have to. It’s better than risking your life. So, honey, it’s my house or jail.”

Stated like that, she accepted that she had no choice. The move was swiftly accomplished. Marlie took the time to thank Beverly for the risk she was taking, and to show her around the house, then she was hustled out. She insisted on taking her car, so it was a caravan of three that parked at Dane’s house not long afterward.

Dane had seen the completed changes Trammell had wrought in his house, and considered the money well spent. The new furniture was both comfortable and chic; his living room now felt like a patio, with the same sense of freshness and space. His bed was the one thing in the house that had been fairly new; he’d replaced his grandparents’ standard double with a king-size when he inherited the house. The only reason he had endured the double bed at Marlie’s these past weeks was the fact that she had been in it. For that, he had been content to have his feet hang off the end.

If he had had any hope of sharing that big bed with her now, it disappeared when she resolutely carried her clothes into the second bedroom, which had also received Trammell’s sprucing up. Still he was fiercely elated. She was here; that was what mattered. She obviously wanted to make a complete break with him, but circumstances had conspired against her, and she was forced to stay with him. He would have the chance to break down that wall of anger.

Again Grace helped Marlie with her clothes. They worked quietly together for several minutes before Grace said, “You’re really angry at him, aren’t you?”

“Anger doesn’t begin to describe it. Not only did he set me up, that was his reason from the beginning for getting involved with me.”

Grace looked shocked. “That can’t be so!”

“Can’t it? He didn’t deny planning it before he moved in with me.”

“But Alex has been positively gleeful because Dane is so obviously crazy about you. Surely you know that he loves you!”

“If he does, he’s never even come close to saying it. In fact, we’ve never discussed our relationship at all, except for sex. I’m beginning to think that’s all it ever was, just sex. He had this plan of his, and as a side benefit I happened to be acceptable in bed.”

Grace thought about it. “You’ve never talked about your feelings at all?”

“Not one word. I called him when a vision started, he came over and took care of me, and simply never left. The next thing I knew, he was hanging up his clothes in my closet.”

“I see. Even on our first date, Alex admitted that emotionally he was in deep water,” Grace murmured. “And Alex is the most skittish man in the world.” She thought about it some more, then pronounced: “You’re right. On the evidence, you have to assume that Dane deliberately became involved with you to gain your trust, and moved in with you to stay close to the action, so to speak.”

“In a nutshell, he used me.”

When Grace left the bedroom, she gave Dane a frosty glare. Trammell caught his partner’s eye and shrugged in amusement. Dane didn’t think it was a damn bit funny. He didn’t protest when they left; the sooner he and Marlie were alone, the sooner he could begin mending fences. God, what if he couldn’t change her mind?

At the thought of losing her forever, he felt a cold knot of panic form in the pit of his stomach.

Marlie finally came out of the bedroom to watch the local evening news. As she had expected, she was the lead story.

“WVTM learned today that the Orlando Police Department has been using the services of a local psychic, Marlie Keen, to aid them in their search for the Orlando Slasher. WVTM reporter Cheri Vaughn talked to Ms. Keen earlier today, when she and a city detective were seen leaving the house of the latest victim, Marilyn Elrod, who lived in Wildwood Estates.”

The picture switched from the studio to the tape shot earlier. Marlie watched in silence for a minute, then said, “You played it perfectly. The way you told them to leave, and kept stepping in front of me, looked exactly as if you were trying to keep me under wraps. Do you think I came across as a publicity-hungry kook?”

“Not quite,” he muttered. At least she was talking to him. He had been worried that she would give him the silent treatment for the rest of his life. No, she hadn’t come across as a kook, at least not to anyone with an ounce of perception. There had been too much controlled anger in her face, too much disgust when she had described the killer.

The next scene featured Lieutenant Bonness, sweating in the heat, looking properly embarrassed. Dane had briefed him on how to play it. Bonness wasn’t comfortable with what he was doing, but his discomfort fit in with what he wanted to project. Yes, Marlie Keen had contacted them. They were willing to listen to anyone who might be able to help them with the investigation. Ms. Keen’s allegations hadn’t panned out, though, and the Orlando PD would no longer be working with her.

Back to the studio. The evening anchors had a few pithy remarks to make about the police department wasting tax dollars chasing down wild ideas from the loony fringe. The spot ended with the information that Ms. Keen, the alleged psychic, worked in the accounting department of a local bank, and named the bank.

“There goes my job,” Marlie drawled.

Dane’s hand tightened on the can of beer he was holding. “I told you—”

“I know what you told me. I also know you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His teeth ground together. “For the last time, I didn’t get involved with you just to set you up as bait.”

“No? Just exactly when did you come up with this brilliant plan? And I’m not being sarcastic. It’s a damn good idea. It’ll probably work. But when did you think of it?”

He didn’t have to think, he knew exactly when the plan had occurred to him. Again he chose not to lie. “On the plane coming back from Denver.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You mean right before you came to my house and made a heavy-duty pass?”

“Yes,” he growled.

“The timing’s a mite suspicious, isn’t it?”

“I wanted you before that, damn it!” he yelled. “But you were a suspect, and I couldn’t get involved with you. As soon as I cleared you of all suspicion, I was knocking on your door.”

She smiled. “And it was just pure luck that I could be used in this way, wasn’t it? I don’t mind that part of it, Dane, I really don’t. What I hate is the way you used a personal relationship to set it up—though it wasn’t very personal for you, was it?”

Red mist swam in front of his eyes. He was so angry that he could feel himself losing control. He got up and walked out of the house, to keep himself from doing something he would regret later.

Damn, this wasn’t looking good at all. How could she doubt what they’d had together? He’d never felt like this about any other woman, and she thought it meant less than nothing to him. He walked around the yard, the lingering evening heat making him sweat. When he thought he had himself under control, he went back inside, but Marlie had gone back into the bedroom.

Probably that was for the best. Both their emotions were too raw for them to talk about this sensibly. Tomorrow, when they both had calmed down, would be better.

Carroll Janes watched the evening news telecast. So that was how they had known! A damn psychic. Whoever would have thought? That certainly wasn’t something for which he could have planned.

The cops didn’t seem to have much faith in her, but just looking at her had given him chills. And what she had said; how could she have been so vicious? She had called him a worm and a coward. After a moment of hurt, he began to get angry. So he wasn’t anyone’s dream man, was he? What did that little bitch know?

Actually, he realized, she knew quite a lot. The cops didn’t believe her—for now—but the fact was, she was a real danger to him. As no one else had, she had gotten close to him. The only way she could have seen him was in a psychic vision, and the thought made him feel maddeningly vulnerable.

It was intolerable. How ignominious it would be for his downfall to come about because of some kook psychic! The trouble was that she wasn’t a kook. She was for real. It was the only way she could know what he looked like.

He wasn’t safe as long as she lived.

The solution was obvious. The psychic would have to die.