Stella didn’t doubt that Gianna was depressed. Her life was out of her control and full of physical misery. As much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t rule out the possibility that Gianna was suicidal. They didn’t even know for certain that the killer had taken another woman.

“I have to catch up with Brody.”

Lance nodded. “I’ll get the paperwork started with Ms. Hall.”

“Thanks,” Stella headed for her cubicle where her blazer lay draped over the back of her chair. A yellow clasp envelope sat in her inbox. Her name and the station’s address were printed on the front.

She knew it was from him. Donning gloves, she used a letter opener to slit the top.

A sheet of paper slid out. A single sentence was typed in the center of the eight by ten white sheet.

I HAVE NUMBER 3.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two

“What is the purpose of the notes?” Stella climbed the Spivaks’ front stoop.

Next to her, Brody scanned the street. “He’s taunting you like he did in the interview.”

She pictured Spivak’s smug leer and shivered.

“God, I hope they know where to find him.” Stella rang the doorbell. Another girl’s life depended on it. But did he have Gianna or Janelle?

“Even if they do, they might not be willing to share.” Brody said. “We’re trying to put their son in prison.”

The senior Mr. Spivak was a tall and tidy man. He wore his plaid, short-sleeved shirt tucked in, and a sharp crease bisected the exact center of his jeans. The shriveled woman who stood next to him was colorless, gray from her hair to her eyes to her washed-out housedress.

Stella and Brody showed their badges.

“We already said we’re not talking to the police.” Mrs. Spivak clenched her fingers in front of her sternum. The only parts of her body that moved were her fingers, which worked in a nervous repetition from church to steeple and back again. “Noah’s a grown man. He’s not our responsibility anymore. You can’t hold us accountable for his doings.”

“No one is holding you responsible, ma’am.” Stella peered around their bodies but saw no one behind them. “We just want to ask you a few questions. Are you aware that we’re looking for Noah?”

Mrs. Spivak’s frown sank into the folds of her neck. “I thought you had him in custody?”

“We did,” Stella said. “Someone bailed him out.”

Mrs. Spivak’s open palm pressed just below the hollow of her throat. “Wasn’t us. He belongs in jail. We kicked him out because he threatened to kill us when we wouldn’t give him money to support his cause. We don’t have much. We barely get by, but Noah is obsessed.”

“Does Noah have any other friends who would have bail money?” Stella asked.