Marissa Fordham was dead, she realized. She would never know the woman. There would be no more beautiful artwork to help raise money for charities.

“What happened?”

“Found dead in her home by a neighbor. She and her daughter. The little girl is at Mercy General.”

“How old?”

“Four.”

“Oh my God. What—”

She started to ask the question then caught herself. Did she really want to know what some sick bastard might have done to a four-year-old child?

“It was a bad scene,” Vince conceded. He brushed her hair back again. “I needed to see you as much as you needed to see me. I knew you’d be here.”

“Was it a random thing, or do you think it was someone who knew her?”

Anne wasn’t sure which was worse, really. A random crime put everyone into a state of panic. Better if the killer was someone who had a problem with the victim. Unless that someone turned out to be somebody like Peter Crane. The serial killer next door.

“It seemed personal,” Vince said.

So had Peter Crane’s first murder ... until he committed another, and another.

“I’m on my way to the hospital to see about the little girl,” he said. “I just wanted to stop and see you first.”

To check on her. The victim wasn’t the only one to suffer the aftereffects of crime. What had happened to her had left its mark on Vince, as well. He had shown up at her house within an hour of her abduction. If only he had gotten there earlier. If only he had figured out the puzzle sooner. He was one of the top men in his field in the entire world. How could he not have prevented it from happening?

All these thoughts had plagued him in the year since. As a result, he kept close tabs on her, made sure he knew where she was going and whom she was seeing. He still didn’t like having her out of his sight.

They were both damaged. Fortunately, they had each other to confide in and support as they worked through the aftermath. Not all victims were so lucky to have that shared understanding with someone close to them.

Anne slipped her arms around her husband and hugged him tight for a moment. Vince held her and kissed the top of her head.

“I should go back inside,” she said. “I’m adding to Dennis’s abandonment issues.”

“I have to get on with it too.”

Neither of them moved.

“What’s the rest of your day?” Vince asked.

“I have a class at one thirty, then an appointment with the ADA. I’m meeting Franny for a glass of wine at Piazza Fontana. I’ll be home by six thirty.”