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terrier burst into the entryway. The dog snarled and lunged at Greg.
    “Terriers can be so aggressive,” Lynda said after the girl disappeared outside. “She should really get him trained before ... What's wrong?” Greg stared after them, as white as computer paper.
    He blinked and tried a shaky smile. “Nothing. Dogs make me nervous sometimes.”
    Lynda nodded and pushed the door open. While they followed Matt up the stairs, it occurred to Lynda that “nervous” didn't begin to describe Greg's reaction. He'd looked terrified.

Interlude

    HE HID behind a juniper hedge, waiting.
    Light streamed from the auditorium's doors and pooled on the lawn outside. Headlights shattered the street's dark calm; streetlights added their rosy glow. It was dangerously bright, much brighter than the lunar crescent lurking above the treetops.
    A door on the side of the building swung open, and she stepped out. She was beautiful, standing in the doorway with her friends. He raised his head and sifted the breeze for her scent. Make-up. Sweat. Joy. He could almost feel the blood racing through her veins. Only a lifetime of control kept him from running to her.
    Instead, he crept behind the bushes, paralleling her path to the parking lot. He winnowed her voice from the many filling the night and thrilled to the happiness in it. Peering through a break in the foliage, he saw her unlock a small sedan.
    Two girls stood behind her, talking and giggling. Friends. The smaller one smelled of candy and rosebud—he knew her scent well. The other, taller and darker than most, had a musky scent not found in bottles.
    Laughing, the one he followed opened the door and reached back to fold down the front seat. She was turning to her friends when a pair of headlights lit her from behind. Her smile vanished. Her eyes seemed to lock onto his. He froze, praying she didn't see him. An instant later the car turned.
    “Did you see that?” he heard.
    “No,” said her friends. “What?”
    A moment of silence, then, “Nothing. I guess.”
    The breath he'd held whooshed out, but he remained motionless until the car door slammed, cutting off her scent.
    After the car drove out of the lot, he sat back and snorted angrily at himself. Stupid. He'd been stupid to-night, and she'd nearly seen him. Next time she would look harder. The wisest thing would be to stay away. His father had warned him...
    Shaking his heavy head, he lumbered home. His father was always warning him. And he'd already stopped listening.

Chapter 5

    THE WEEKEND the show opened, Lynda picked up Ellen at her mother's townhouse around two o'clock Saturday afternoon and drove west to get Keisha. She thought she'd given herself plenty of time before the matinee, but hadn't figured on missing every light on 55th Street. Screeching into the parking lot behind the auditorium, Lynda checked the time and realized she had less than an hour before the performance started.
    Slamming the car into Park, she threw herself through the door and ran to the shrubs lining the lot.
    Ellen ran after her. “Where are you going? We don't have time to play in the bushes. We're already late.”
    “I'm not playing.” Lynda knelt beside the hedge. “I saw something in these bushes last night, maybe what killed that dog in August.”
    Keisha unfolded herself from the back seat and slam-med the car door. “Was it a raccoon? Grandma Jones caught sight of one in the dumpster a couple of weeks ago. Said it was as big as a pony.”
    Ellen bounced impatiently. “Raccoons don't grow as big as ponies. Come on, Lynda. I'm more afraid of Miss Mendelson than any stupid animal. She's going kill us if we don't get in there.”
    Lynda sifted through the bed of leaves under the plants, but the hard, dry ground showed no sign of being disturbed. “I'm not stopping you,” she said, checking deeper in the evergreen hedge.
    “She'll blame me if you're late. The cast members are my responsibility, remember?”
    A dark tuft caught