“Maybe. To slow me down, distract me.”

“But how did he put us together?”

“Nothing about this guy would surprise me. You notice anybody near your bike?”

“No. I had an errand. Left the bike outside. Only five minutes. I wasn’t paying any attention.” Then Boling was looking her over. “But…what happened to you?”

“Nothing critical. I got banged up getting into an elevator.”

“Well, that must have been quite an entrance.”

She told him about the latest attack. “Nobody hurt badly.”

Then her eyes strayed to what was on her desk in front of him: Stan Prescott’s ASUS computer. Beside it was a portable hard drive. “You cracked it?”

“Well, my partner did.”

“Partner?”

“Lily.”

Dance glanced at him with a playful frown. “Lily. Is this where I start to be jealous?”

“Ah, Lily… My main squeeze. She’s a second-generation Blue Gene/P four-way symmetric multiprocessor supercomputer with node-to-node logic communication. But as sexy as that is, you’ve got a better body.”

At that moment O’Neil walked through the door. He blinked.

This reaction wasn’t—it seemed—in response to Boling’s comment about Dance. He was staring at Boling’s bandages and bruises. “Jon, Jesus. What happened?”

“The dangers of going green. Bike accident. Banged up a little. I was lucky.”

Dance said, “Maybe intentional.”

“So he knows who’s out to stop him,” O’Neil said to Dance. “I’ll order a protective detail to keep an eye on your place.”

Not a bad idea. She’d also make sure the children didn’t go anywhere alone. Certainly Wes couldn’t take any more bike rides with Donnie. Not until the unsub was caught.

O’Neil had his mobile out. He asked Boling, “I’ll order one for you too, if you want.”

There was a pause. Dance said, “Just one. For my house is fine.”

“Sure.” And O’Neil phoned the request in. After a brief conversation he hung up. “There’ll be an undercover out front in the evenings. Random drive-bys too. During the day.” He had ordered one for her parents too.

She thanked him. Then glanced toward Boling. “Jon got into Stan Prescott’s computer. And phone.”

“Great.”

Boling handed her the small USB-powered drive. The computer forensic protocol was that you backed up the suspect’s drive onto an external, because there were often software booby traps in the computer itself.

She plugged it in and nodded at her keyboard. He took over.

“I’ve got access to Prescott’s e-mails and the websites he visited. You should review it yourself but I didn’t see any connection to the Solitude Creek incident or Bay View themselves. No personal connection, I mean. He didn’t correspond with anybody about them—and he didn’t delete anything about them either. I reconstructed the deleted files. All of them. Looks like he downloaded the pictures of Solitude Creek from a pay site.”

“Pay site? What’s that? I thought they were from a TV newscast.”

“They were, originally. But somebody uploaded them to a commercial site where members can watch graphic violence—stills and movies. Do you know about them?”