Protective Confinement. Cassie Miles

and ran out the door. That’s what I should have done.”

      “We figured Russell was already inside,” he said. “He was waiting for you.”

      What had he been doing? How had Russell passed the time while waiting to destroy her life? Revulsion tightened her gut as she imagined him touching her things, lying on her bed, using her toilet. In her mind, she could see him standing at her open closet door, surveying the clothing he’d taken such delight in describing in his e-mails. “When do you think you’ll catch him?”

      “I don’t know.”

      That wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. Dash appeared to be a strong, competent person. He ought to be able to give her some idea of when Russell would be apprehended. “Two days? A week?”

      “I’ll do everything in my power to take him into custody.”

      That wasn’t a direct answer. “Everything in your power, huh? Are you good at what you do?”

      His gaze was steady and confident as he replied, “I’m the best.”

      THOUGH THE DOCTORS SUGGESTED that Cara be hospitalized for observation, her physical condition checked out. She’d managed to eat something solid and had been drinking plenty of water. Apart from the occasional blur of hallucination at the edge of her peripheral vision, she was okay and demanded to be taken home.

      Wearing hospital scrubs and a robe, she slipped into Dash’s rental car. She had no idea how his car had gotten to the hospital since he’d ridden with her in the ambulance. He seemed to be able to make things happen with a few words into his ever-present cell phone, and she had no doubt that it was Dash giving the final nod that caused the doctors to release her.

      He pulled up to the curb outside her house and parked behind her car. Though he’d warned her that she might not like what she found at home, Cara shuddered at the sight of yellow crime-scene tape tangled in her shrubs. Oh, God, this is embarrassing. All her neighbors would know what had happened to her. She’d be the center of gossip and speculation.

      Dash circled the car and opened the door for her. She was determined to walk into her house without leaning on him. If she moved slowly, it wasn’t too painful.

      At the porch, Dash tore off the seal and used a key to open her front door. Inside, she faced the chaos of broken pottery and kachinas—the aftermath of her struggle. Her gaze went from the shelves to the floor where her favorite possessions lay shattered.

      Anger exploded in a red burst behind her eyelids. “I want this to be over. Let’s do the formal interview now. Then I can write out my narrative on my laptop.”

      “We’ve confiscated your computer.”

      “You can’t do that.” She glared at him. “I have a lot of information stored on that laptop. Papers that I’m working on. Research.”

      “We’ll make sure we don’t lose any of your files. Everything will be backed up.”

      “I need my computer.” Though it was the end of the semester, there was still a lot going on at the university. “I have my students’ grades on spreadsheets.”

      “Your laptop is evidence. We used it to trace e-mails from the Judge. That’s how we knew about Russell Graff.”

      “You could trace those e-mails?” She felt incredibly foolish. If she’d reported the threats right away, she would have known Russell’s identity. The authorities would have been alerted. “I could have prevented this whole thing.”

      “Don’t blame yourself. Even if you had known Russell’s identity, you couldn’t guess his intentions.”

      She picked her way carefully through the shards. Her meticulously arranged life was falling apart before her eyes.

      “My mother,” she said suddenly. “Does my mother know what happened?”

      “I spoke to her yesterday,” Dash said.

      Oh, God! “I need to call her right now.”

      WHILE SHE WAS IN THE SHOWER, Dash filled in reports and made arrangements. A chopper would be waiting for them at the airport. All he had to do now was convince Cara to go along with his plans.

      He turned off the ringer on her telephone. Even though he’d warned the other officers, agents and firemen to keep the abduction quiet, it was only a matter of time before the news leaked. The media would be all over Cara. She was an attractive woman—one who would play well on television.

      When she emerged from the bedroom wearing jeans and a soft white tunic, she looked a hundred percent better. In her sneakers, she was even walking with more confidence. The gray of her eyes was less murky.

      Her recovery would have been miraculous…if he believed it. Cara was putting up a damn good facade, pretending that she wasn’t in the least traumatized. Later, he knew, she’d crash. Maybe not today or tomorrow. But soon.

      She beamed a huge smile, but it wasn’t for his benefit. The big orange tomcat had sauntered into the room.

      “Yazzie.” Cara squatted down to his level. “Come here, baby.”

      Whipping his tail, the cat bulldozed his way into her waiting arms and allowed himself to be lifted. When he glanced toward Dash, he bared his sharp teeth and hissed.

      “Stop it,” she chided the cat. “Dash is one of the good guys.”

      Yazzie hissed again.

      “Fine with me,” Dash muttered. Pets were a pain in the rear. “I don’t need to be friends with a furry Jabba the Hutt.”

      Defensively, she said, “He has a healthy appetite.”

      “Obviously.”

      She sat at the end of the dining table with the cat sprawled over her lap. “When I talked to my mother in Denver, I convinced her that everything was fine and she didn’t need to come down here and take care of me.”

      “That must have taken some convincing.” If he’d had a daughter who’d been held captive by a serial killer, he’d walk through fire to be with her. “Are you and your mother close?”

      “Fairly close.” An involuntary grimace tugged at the corner of her mouth. “She was married to my father for only five years. For most of that time, he wasn’t around.”

      “She remarried.”

      She shot him a curious look. “How do you know that?”

      “FBI,” he reminded her. “We know everything.”

      “Well, yes. She remarried. My stepfather is a great guy. A doctor. And I have three half sisters. All blond.”

      Which made Cara the outsider. He was beginning to understand her need to prove herself. “How much did you tell your mother?”

      “Not everything.” She straightened her shoulders and said, “I’m ready to do that formal interview and written report. Let’s get this over with.”

      “There’s something we need to discuss first.” There was no easy way to break this news. “Like I said before, you’re an important witness, and you need to be protected. I want to take you to an FBI safe house.”

      “Is this one of those protected witness programs? Where you give up your identity?” She shook her head, sending ripples through her thick black hair. “That’s unacceptable.”

      “It’s the only way to be sure you’re safe.”

      “I can’t pick up and leave. I have responsibilities.” She stroked Yazzie vigorously. “This is the end of the semester. Next week are final exams. I have a ton of papers to be graded.”

      Denial was one thing. This attitude was insanity. “We’re dealing with a serial killer. Make no mistake, Cara. He’ll come after you again.”

      Her