“The public has a right to know.” Charlie’s voice grew heated. “You’re holding things back. Like, the whole social engineering. And Shana Day having some kind of connection to this new killing machine. Three women are dead in seven weeks. And you don’t even have a suspect.”

“I thought we were supposed to arrest Shana Day,” D.D. said innocently.

“Fuck off!” Charlie informed her. “I realize she’s already behind bars and there’s nothing more you can do to her. But maybe if the killer understands you got the connection, he’ll spook, or drop all contact, or go underground or something. . . .”

“None of which helps us catch him.”

“Well, it might save some lives!”

“Grieve,” Phil ordered the man. “Give yourself a day or two to be Janet Sgarzi’s son. While you do that, we’ll do our jobs. Then we’ll talk again. But giving away our case in the paper—”

“Internet.”

“Whatever. Doesn’t help us. We’re making progress. We’re closing in on a suspect.”

“Can I quote you?” Charlie perked up.

“Nope, because you’re honoring your mother, remember?”

Phil escorted Charlie back to the crowd, which had grown quiet in his absence.

Standing alone with Adeline, D.D. stuck her right hand in her pocket for warmth.

“Still think your sister didn’t kill Donnie Johnson?” she asked Adeline.

The doctor didn’t say a word.

Chapter 30

I RETURNED TO MY CONDO tired and worn-out. What I wanted most was to kick off my shoes, pour a large glass of wine and stare at a blank wall till the whirlwind of fresh revelations and old fears regarding my sister finally quieted in my mind.

What I discovered was my front door, unlocked and slightly ajar.

I froze in the hall, my grip tightening unconsciously on my purse.

I didn’t have friends or associates. No neighbor had an emergency key to my place. No, in Charlie Sgarzi’s lexicon, fuck buddies had ever met me here.

The Rose Killer.

I stepped back, got out my cell phone and dialed the front desk. Mr. Daniels was on duty.

“Did you let anyone up to my unit?” I inquired. “Maybe a deliveryman, or a long-lost friend.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” he assured me. “I got the message loud and clear after the gas company man . . . woman . . . person. All requests should be run by you first. It’s been a busy day, of course, with guests for other units, a new tenant moving in and a couple of prospective buyers. But no one for you, Dr. Glen. I would’ve directly contacted you if that’d been the case. You have my word.”