“Oh, my God,” she whispered.

“There were…eight victims. I worked the case. We never got close to him. Jan…Jan was his last victim. At our house…in our bedroom.”

“Harper…I’m so sorry.” She moved her hand under the covers, finding Harper’s. She squeezed her fingers tightly.

“The victims were all random. Except for Jan. He picked her. Because of me.” Harper turned her head. “He left a note. Said his thirst had been quenched…for now. She was the last one. I guess he moved on.”

“Oh, Harper. I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say.” Harper turned away again, staring at the ceiling. “I couldn’t stay there, so I transferred here about five months after it happened.”

“Do they know? Does Reid know?”

“No. I haven’t told anyone.” Harper gave her fingers a final squeeze, then pulled her hand away, rolling over to her side, her back to Dani.

Dani wasn’t really shocked by her confession. She had sensed it somehow…the heartbreak that Harper had suffered. It was the doll. Not so much the first one at the hotel, but the one left at Detective Springer’s apartment. There had been a look in Harper’s eyes that hinted at something buried deep inside…something that was being called to the surface. Not a Raggedy Ann doll, no, but still…leaving dolls behind as a calling card, she imagined that conjured up all sorts of terrible memories for Harper.

Dani rolled to her side, facing Harper’s back. No, she didn’t know what to say. It made more sense now, though. Harper was still grieving. She was an attractive, single woman still grieving. She had no lover. And if Dani had to guess, she’d say that Harper had no friends either. She’d probably left Tucson—and her friends and family—with the intention of starting over. However, Harper couldn’t leave her memories behind. Those followed her here. And three years, four months and a handful of days later…those memories still haunted her.

She let out a quiet, weary breath and closed her eyes, very sorry that she’d brought her own troubles with her to Dallas…and to Harper.

Chapter Twenty

The breaking of glass had Harper sitting up in bed, wide awake.

“What was that?” Dani asked beside her.

“Stay here.”

Dani sat up. “Was that a window?”

“Sounded like it.” Harper pulled on her jeans, then watched as Dani got out of bed, picking up her jeans as well. “I’ll check it out. You stay here.”

“The hell I will.”

Harper grabbed her gun and her phone, then paused at the bedroom door, listening. All was quiet. She turned to Dani. “Stay close to me.”

“Like glue,” Dani murmured.