“Then don’t pick up the morning edition,” Gabriel retorted. “The daily edition comes out tomorrow. Headline on the ABC Murders.”

“I’ll slap you with an injunction.”

Gabriel snorted. “I’ll meet you in court.”

Sanchez knew it was an empty threat. He’d been filled in on the particulars of the ABC Murders by Sylvie late yesterday when Harmon Turner’s daughter turned up in the morgue. The Ledger had been feeding the story for a while, and his detective swore the man they had in custody was the likely culprit. Though he hated being last on the bus, he was along for the ride.

He couldn’t lose, he thought. If the serial killer turned out to be a hoax, he’d fire the detective with mixed loyalties and a poor sense of humor. If they found it to be true, he’d be spotlighted on news magazines from around the country.

But he couldn’t make the upstart newsman’s job too simple. “I don’t like a word I read and I go straight to the Chronicle. Give them exclusive access to autopsy reports and case files. Maybe take them on a tour of the murder sites with the detectives on the case.”

“You son of a bitch.” Gabriel had to admire the cold-blooded threat. “You know I don’t write trash. Can you say the same about the Chronicle?”

“No comment.” Because Sanchez remembered similar fights with Lincoln Moss, his dark eyes softened, though his tone remained cool. “I’m not as convinced as Detective Iberville.” He cut his gaze to Erin, who stood up in solidarity with Gabriel. Grudging respect tugged at the corner of his unsmiling mouth. He didn’t give in. “I don’t trust you, lady. But you did come to us with this first. That counts for something.”

“It counts for everything. She risked a lot coming here.” Gabriel clasped her shoulder. “We want this man as badly as you do. Worse. We’ll work with Detective Iberville to stop him.”

Sanchez looked around the dim, cramped office and at the motley gang crowded inside. He harrumphed loudly. “You’ll work with me, too. Let’s go to my office and see what we can coordinate.” Without a backward glance, he stalked out.

Sylvie circled from behind her desk to follow.

Gabriel stopped Erin and tilted her face up to his. “You up for this? If not, say the word and I’ll take you home. I can handle it from here.” He searched the shadowed eyes, trying to read what lay deep inside.

Erin straightened. His protective arm fell away. One more loss, but she would hold. “I can do this. I have to.”

“You have a choice.” He carefully kept his voice devoid of inflection. He wanted her to understand that it was her decision. To know he’d always give her one. She smiled at him, if the tremulous curve could be called a smile.