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from being a homicide witness to having her old car tampered with?’
    ‘My search yielded more than the throat-slitting incident. Peter Combs, the guy who almost killed her? After he was paroled, he began stalking her. For a year.’
    ‘Did she report it?’
    Vega nodded soberly. ‘Thirty times.’
    Davies’s brows shot up. ‘Holy shit. Did she think she was the target and not Shue?’
    ‘Not at first. Not until she claimed that Combs had tried again.’
    ‘She claimed ? You didn’t believe her?’
    ‘I did, actually, but there was no evidence her stalker had made any attempts on her life other than the one he went to jail for four years ago. I couldn’t even prove he still lives in Miami. There was nothing connecting Peter Combs to the murder of Gordon Shue. Not until now.’
    ‘There’s still nothing connecting Frye’s stalker to Shue’s killer, or the car for that matter,’ Davies pointed out. ‘Even if this tampering was targeted at her, you’re assuming her stalker did it. And even if you’re right, it doesn’t mean that Shue’s bullet had her name on it. But you are right that someone did something to that car for a reason. You’ve found a good place to start with that one. Go ahead.’
    Cat took the photo back. ‘Thanks, sir.’
    He gave her a small nod, then pointed at the cup on his desk. ‘What about the colada ?’
    ‘My gift to you. Salud .’
    Mt Carmel, Ohio, Monday 3 November, 2.45 P.M.
     
    Arianna lay on the table, teeth gritted, every muscle tensed as she waited for the next slice of his knife. He’d come to her whistling. So damn happy. He’d been gone for hours, but now he was back and in high spirits. Whatever had rattled him enough to tell the girl to pack was no longer a threat. Apparently they weren’t leaving. There would be no escape.
    He’d whistled all the time he’d unpacked his knives. Whistled all the time he’d used those knives. On her. Not a single slice deep enough to kill. All deep enough to hurt like hell. Each one slicing away a little bit more of her hope. I’m going to die here. Alone.
    And then, abruptly, he froze, snarling a curse. Through the blindfold Arianna saw the strobing light, just as she had before. And just like he had before, he went ballistic.
    ‘Sonofa bitch ,’ he growled. ‘She can’t be back. The phone didn’t beep. It was supposed to goddamn beep. I should have stayed and watched her.’ She heard the pounding of his feet, then the tapping of computer keys, followed by another vicious curse. ‘Fuck. Fuck her .’
    Hope rose anew. Someone was coming.
    He ran to the door, threw it open. ‘Roza!’ he bellowed. ‘Come here. Now!’
    Shuffling footsteps. ‘Yes?’
    ‘Bandage her. I don’t want her bleeding everywhere. When you’re done, get the bleach and spray down this room. Then put the box of your things at the bottom of the stairs.’
    Yes! They’re leaving after all! Arianna wanted to sing . Somebody had scared him again. He’ll have to untie me when he moves me. That will be my only chance. She flexed her fingers, hoping he wasn’t watching. She’d been tied for so long that her muscles were stiff. But she was stronger than she looked. I can take him. I have to.
    She heard the clinking of glass. ‘Give her this first,’ he ordered. ‘Fill the glass to this line. No more. No less. Make sure she swallows every drop. When you’re done, give the other one the same amount. Don’t fuck it up, girl, or I’ll beat you till you can’t see. I’ll be back.’
    Of course he would, Arianna thought as the door slammed. But I’ll be ready . Whatever he’d told the girl to make her swallow, she’d spit out. She would not let this opportunity to escape slip through her fingers.
    Mt Carmel, Ohio, Monday 3 November, 2.48 P.M.
     
    He ran up the stairs, his happy mood gone. The power company . Faith had called the goddamn power company. A fucking meter reader was standing at the back of the house.
    He burst out of the basement