Yes, she leaned toward McCafferty. On paper, he worked. And she firmly believed that whatever happened that March 3 out on the interstate so many years ago started this string of murders. The police responded. Anne Banks—the trauma nurse—had made a difficult decision. The principal? Was there a principal involved in the accident? The cause of the accident? Or maybe in the aftermath, a principal hurt McCafferty in another way.

Catherine sent off the memo to Matt and realized that Chris would be here any minute. She had several files that came late yesterday about unsolved stabbings in the three states involved, plus bordering states. She sensed that there might be something there—that there were no hesitation marks on Anne Banks’s body told her that Banks wasn’t his first victim. He could have been perfecting his style, or just growing comfortable with killing, before he went after his real target.

But it would take her hours to go through these reports and if she started now, they’d be on her mind for the rest of the day, and she wouldn’t be fully engaged with her family.

Two hours. She could turn her back on violence for two hours.

Chris called her from downstairs, right on time. She grabbed her purse and shut the doors of her office, as if shutting a door in her mind. She wished it were that easy.

She slid into the front seat and turned to look at her beautiful daughter, Lizzy. The girl unbuckled her seat belt, leaned forward, and hugged Catherine so tightly it brought tears to her eyes.

“Hi, Mom! I have so much to tell you.”

Catherine kissed her. “I can’t wait to hear.” She turned to Chris. He leaned over and kissed her.

She wanted them back.

She didn’t know how she could make this work.

“I was thinking,” she said as they drove off. “Next weekend we have the party on Saturday. Maybe I should stay over and cook brunch like old times.”

“Really?” Lizzy said, bouncing in her seat.

“It’s your birthday. It’s whatever you want. We can go out, of course—”

“No! No, no, no! I really, really want you to make brunch. Please? That’s all I want for my birthday.”

Catherine said, “Chris, maybe we should return the present if we can get away with just feeding our child.”

“Maybe we should,” he said with a grin.

“You wouldn’t,” Lizzy said, and laughed. “This is going to be great. Can I make the menu?”

“Sure. I’ll go shopping on Friday.”

Friday... Because no matter what, the killer would be captured or gone, and Catherine would have succeeded or failed to stop him.

Damn, she wished she could just put it all aside for two hours! What was wrong with her? Why was she thinking about the Triple Killer when she should be thinking about Lizzy’s birthday and the sheer joy in her daughter’s voice when Catherine said she’d be home next weekend?

Chris reached over and took her hand. He kissed it. The simple affection almost made Catherine cry. “I’m on vacation for a week starting Friday,” he said. “Not on call, no patients to monitor, free and clear.”