I rubbed my temples. Not sure why. Maybe to ease the cotton that seemed to be filling my ears, stuffing my head. Say the word no, I tried to tell myself. But my lips wouldn’t move. No word came out.

I stood there, holding the phone and swaying on my feet. And finally, deep down in the last vestiges of my consciousness, I felt the first prickle of fear. That this was more than greasy pizza and the aftereffects of a trying day.

What I was feeling, what my sister was feeling, was far, far worse. Especially given the Rose Killer’s penchant for attacking unconscious women . . .

A noise from the bathroom. A clatter. Like my sister had suddenly fallen to the floor.

At the last moment, I got it. I looked up to the corner of my bedroom ceiling where the carbon monoxide alarm should’ve been. Except it wasn’t there anymore. It had been removed by the Rose Killer, most likely right after he tampered with my electric heating units and began the process of poisoning me.

Window. If I could get to a window. Crack it open. Get my head out.

But my legs wouldn’t respond. Slowly but surely, I crumpled to the floor.

“Dr. Glen?” Charlie’s voice over the phone, which had landed next to my face.

I stared at it. Willed myself to whisper help. But all that came out was a sigh.

“Are you okay?”

My eyes drifting shut.

“Dr. Glen?”

Call the police, I tried to say. But the words didn’t come out.

I became aware of a new sound.

The bolt lock on my front door sliding smoothly open, by a person who very clearly had a key. Then the knob turning. Door opening.

The police didn’t matter anymore.

The Rose Killer was already here.

Chapter 39

IT TOOK D.D. A BIT to find the building superintendent for Charlie’s apartment. The older man, hunch shouldered, heavyset, worked a long string of keys before selecting the magic implement.

“We’re worried about Charlie’s safety,” D.D. made a big show of telling the man. “We have reason to believe he’s in immediate danger. We just want to ensure he’s okay.”

Judging by the look on the building super’s face, he couldn’t have cared less why they were entering his tenant’s rental and whether or not they had probable cause. But D.D. and Phil went through the motions of laying the groundwork for their case anyway. Just in case.

Once the door was open, the super backed off. Work to do, he informed them gruffly; shut the door behind themselves when they were done. Then he was off, and Phil and D.D. stood alone in the middle of Charlie’s bachelor pad.