Eden's Baby
by
Adrianne Lee

Other novels by Adrianne Lee

Something Borrowed, Something Blue Midnight Cowboy

Adrianne Lee

Eden's Baby is talented Addanne Lee's third book for Intrigue TM When
asked about why she wanted to write romantic fiction, Adrianne had this
to say: "I wanted to be Doris Day when I grew up.  You know, singing my
way through one wonderful romance after another.  And I did.  I fell in
love with and married my school sweetheart and became the mother of
three beautiful daughters.  Family and love are very important to me
and I hope you enjoy the way I weave them through my stories.  I love
hearing from readers."  If you want a response or an autographed
bookmark from Adrianne Lee, please send a self-addressed envelope and
postage to P.O. Box 3838, Sequim, WA 98382, United States of America.

ADRIANNE LEE

DID YOU PURCHASE THIS BOOK WITHOUT A COVER?

If you did, you should be aware it is stolen property as it was
reported unsold and destroyed by a retailer.  Neither the author nor
the publisher has received any payment for this book.

All the characters in this book hove no existence outside the
imagination of the author, and hove no relation whatsoever to anyone
bearing the same name or names.  They are not even distantly inspired
by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents
are pure invention.

All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in
part in any form.  This edition is published by arrangement with
Harlequin Enterprises H B. V. The text of this publication or any part
thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechonical, including photocopying, recording,
storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the
written permission of the publisher.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of
trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated
without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or
cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar
condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent
purchaser.

Silhouette and Colophon are registered trademarks of Harlequin Books
SJL, used under licence.

First published in Great Britain 1997

Silhouette Books, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey

TW9

I SR

Adrianne Lee Undsderfer 1996

ISBN 0 373 22383 8

46-9704

Printed and bound in Great Britain by Mackays of Chotham PLC, Chatham

Mlical Center

David's

House

Mercer

Eden's

Island 1-90

House

In loving memory of Amie and Kate.

Special thanks to: Clint Cresawn, Ruth Craven, Sheila Keener and
Stephanie K. Steppe of University of Washington Medical Centre; Miriam
S. Cressman of Virginia Mason Medical Centre;

Captain Ron Brothers of the Issaquah Police

Prologue

Life imprisonment.  Dr.  David Coulter felt no sense of justice as he
watched from the back of the Seattle courtroom.  Rose Hatcher, wearing
an abnormally bland dress, her carrot red hair hanging to her waist in
a limp braid, stood as the verdict was read.

David swallowed his disgust.  Rose could spend eternity in jail.  It
wouldn't bring back Marianne DePaul, his most promising psychiatry
student in years.

Wouldn't console her family.

Or ease his guilt.

How could he come to terms with the knowledge that someone's obsession
with him had led to the death of an innocent young woman?  He jammed
his trembling hands into the pockets of his jacket, unable to shake the
certainty that Marianne's murder was preordained, her fate sealed, the
moment he'd shown a special interest in her.  Singled her out in
class.

Rage boiled inside him, rage against the woman being sentenced, a rage
to take her life as she'd taken Marianne's, a rage that defiled
everything he had ever believed in.

He wheeled around and left the courtroom.  Why hadn't he realized
Rose's affection for him bordered on psychotic?  His throat
constricted.  This was the second time he'd wrongly diagnosed
someone--been tricked into taking things at face value.  The first time
had only humiliated him, left him distrustful of his professional and
personal abilities to assess patients' and friends: motives.

This time someone innocent had died.

How could he have misjudged her so badly?  He stepped aboard the
elevator and punched the button with the force of his anger.  His
license should be revolted.  He'd taken Rose's affection as
transference dependency, a "crush" that patients, and sometimes
students, developed for their doctors or teachers.  A daily hazard to
psychiatrists.

The elevator stopped, and an elderly couple boarded.  Why hadn't he
suspected the truth--that Rose had an antisocial personality disorder?
He let out a ragg breath.  At least there was no doubt of her guilt.
Not only had they found physical evidence in her apartment-some of it
personal items stolen from his house--but Rose had also confessed.

A clammy chill swept him.  Feel it, David.  All of it All the pain and
anger.  Acceptance was at the other end of this nightmarish tunnel. How
many times had he told his patients that?  What worthless advice! Would
acceptance ease his guilt?  Restore his trust in his own judgment of
people?

He stepped from the elevator and started across the lobby.  It would
certainly not reassure his secretary, his dentist's receptionist, his
new student assistant, an ex-patient and an old girlfriend, all of
whose names were on an apparent hit list investigators had found in
Rose Hatcher's apartment.  He shuddered to think they might all have
been intended future victims because of their association with him.

He left the King County Courthouse, emerging into the crisp February
afternoon.  Exhaust smoke fouled the air, but David hardly noticed the
vehicles moving along the street as he joined the few pedestrians
sharing the sidewalk.  He crossed Fourth Avenue and headed up the hill
to the parking lot.

At the next co ruer he encountered a street vendor selling flowers.

The man poked a flower in his direction.  "Last chance to remember your
Valentine."

A familiar fragrance reached David, freezing him in place and
unsettling his stomach.  His gaze riveted on the single white rose the
man held toward him.  It was just like the one Rose had left on his
doorstep after killing Marianne.

Chapter One

Five months later

A rare July thunderstorm battered David Coulter's Mercer Island home as
he set the telephone receiver back in its cradle.  An open bottle of
wine was breathing on the counter, and salad and steaks waited in the
fridge.  He'd planned on sharing dinner with an old friend.  It seemed
she'd gotten a better offer.  Good for her.  Bad for him.

"At least Shannon won't be lonely tonight."  He wished he could find
someone to share his life with.  Friends were nice, but their company
only eased the emptiness inside him; he needed someone to fill it.  A
vision of Eden Prescott flashed into his mind, and he pondered the
tender glances they'd exchanged lately.  Had he imagined a longing in
her eyes?  He shook his head at his foolishness.  Eden was the most
loyal woman he'd ever met--and her loyalties belonged to her husband.

Even if she felt as he felt about her, she'd never act on those
feelings.

Wind seemed to steal into the old house, brushing a chill over his
naked body.  Banishing Eden from his thoughts, David hurried back to
the warm bathroom, snatched up a small towel, wiped steam off the
mirror, then draped the towel around his neck.

His damp hair stood on end, and the shadow of a beard darkened his
jawline.  He reached for his comb.  It was gone.  Not another one.  He
groaned.  How many did that make in the last two months?  Three?  A
shiver skittered along his spine.  If Rose Hatcher weren't still behind
bars... "Whoa, old man.  Talk about classic paranoia."  He chuckled at
him selL No obsessed students were getting in here and taking his
combs.  He lathered his face and shaved.  More likely he'd simply put a
comb down somewhere, then gotten busy with something else and forgotten
where he'd put it.  It would turn up where least expected.  Probably in
the fridge.

The doorbell rang, its merry chime chasing off the concern.  Who the
hell could that be?  He grabbed his robe off the hook on the bathroom
door, straggled into it and cinched the belt as he hurried to the
foyer.  He peered through the peephole.

In the eerie yellow glow cast by the porch light, he saw a bedraggled
and wet-looking woman, petite in stature, her short black hair
plastered to her head.  His heart 'jumped.  "Eden."

He yanked the door open, oblivious to the fact that he wore nothing
more than his short terry-cloth robe, that his cocoa brown hair was
damp and mussed and that a towel still draped his neck and a dab of
shaving cream adorned one earlobe.

"Hello, David."

Her husky voice held him rooted in place, eliciting an unbidden,
decidedly warm stirring in his belly.  His mouth was suddenly as dry as
the night was wet.  "Eden?"

Her cornflower blue eyes widened as she took in his appearance.  "I've
caught you at a bad time."

"No, you haven't, but what are you doing out in this storm?"  David
kept her standing outside, his manners lost in the surprise of finding
her on his doorstep.  He noticed the mascara smudges underscoring her
eyes.  Had she been crying?  Had something happened to her sister?  "Is
it Beth?"

"Well... no.  Maybe."-She looked confused, desperate, about to bolt.
"I--I have no right to barge in on you.  I--I should have called."

"Nonsense."  She wasn't even wearing a coat or boots.  Had no umbrella.
Water dripped from the tips of her haft.  Something was damned wrong.
"Please, come in."

Her hand was icy cold and wet as he caught it and gently, firmly,
pulled her inside and led her into the living room to the marble
fireplace, where a roaring fire burned.

The rain blinds were closed against the storm, but the downpour drummed
overhead, muffling the soft sounds of classical music issuing from the
stereo against the far wall.

The room was massive, in perfect proportion to the house, and offered a
grand view of Lake Washington when the blinds were open.  But other
than the stereo, the only furniture was a creamy leather sofa centered
near the hearth with a single brass floor lamp at its side.

He saw Eden frown and assumed she was wondering at the lack of personal
items.  Not wanting to discuss that, he said, "I'll get you a towel."

"Thank you."  She stepped out of red flats that looked as if she'd
waded through a puddle, and hunched toward the flames, chafing her
hands together.  "I am rather chilled."

David hastened to the linen closet and grabbed a thick blue towel that
was almost as large as Eden, then veered into the kitchen and filled
two glasses from the open wine bottle.  Eden was shaken.  Maybe in
shock.  Whatever had brought her here could just as easily send her
back out into the night.  He'd seen the misgivings in her eyes, in her
hesitancy at coming inside.  The last thing she needed was to tear back
out into this storm.

But she might.

He hurried back to the living room, brbathing a sigh of relief the
moment he saw her still standing at the fireplace.  Thunder rumbled
overhead.  David slowed his step and let his gaze roam from Eden's
sleek raven hair, to the delicate paleness of her neck, over every
petite curve, past the shapely arch of her calves, to her graceful bare
feet.  A tightness jabbed his groin and made him suddenly aware of his
lack of clothing.

She spun around, and their gazes met and held.  "Peter has filed for
divorce."

Peter was her husband.  Whatever David had expected, it wasn't this.
He'd been certain it was Beth.  His patient.  The link that had brought
them together months ago.  Although they'd grown friendly during their
association, Eden seldom mentioned her marriage.  "Tm sorry.  I can see
it has shaken you."

"Oh, yes.  And I really need to talk to someone about it.  Was I wrong
to come here?"

"No, of course not."  Dear God, he should have said yes.  How could he
bear to hear her despair over her husband?  How could he control
feelings for her that defied anything he'd ever felt for other women?

The thought was like a cold splash of.  reality Even if what he felt
for Eden was the genuine, once-in-a-lifetime thing, he had no right to
act on it.  She was destroyed by the failure of her marriage.  She
loved another.

"Here.  Some cabernet will help warm your insides."  He handed her the
towel and one of the wineglasses.

"Would you like to sit on the sofa?"

"No.  I'd rather stay by the fire."

"Sure."  He remained standing also, keeping a good three feet between
them, terrified that the least encouragement from her would shred his
already shaky professional detachment, that he would reach out to help
her and be lost in the need she exuded, in the need coursing his own
veins.

Be strong, be strong, he chanted silently, painfully.  "What
happened?"

"It seems my... husband has found someone else he wants to marry."

Oddly there was no pain in her eyes, just anger and fear.  What did
that mean?  "I'm sorry."

The words felt so inadequate.

"Don't be."  She gazed into his eyes.  "The marriage was over long
ago."

David felt the invisible, intangible, irresistible allure of her
emotional and physical hunger... for him?

"It was?"  He swallowed hard.  No.  He was misreading her.  She didn't
want him as he wanted her.  His gaze snagged on her movements with the
blue towel--a blue that matched the cornflower of her eyes--as she
dabbed it delicately against the sides of her heart-shaped face, her
dripping hair.  He ached to take the towel from her.  Perform the task
himself.  He fought the urge.  "Are you saying you don't love your
husband?"

The question made her laugh.  "I despise him."  "You do?"  Why had he
said that?  He should have said, Isee.  No one was more aware than he
was of that fine line between love and hate.  He could not take her
declaration at face value.  It might not mean she actually despised her
husband.

David took a swallow of wine.  It wasn't necessarily that she'd come
here because she felt something for him, either.  She might just be
lashing out--a normal response from someone betrayed by a lover.
"Then--forgive my rudeness-why are you so upset?"

"I won't judge you, Eden.  Surely you know me well enough by now to
know that."  She looked like a star-tied deer about to bolt.  David
respected her instincts.  He should let her leave.  Dear God, he had to
let her leave.  "I'm a good listener."

"Yes, I know."  He was a wonderful listener.  A sliver of guilt stabbed
Eden.  If only counsel were all that she longed for from David.  "I
didn't know where else to turn.  But I've changed my mind."

She took a gulp of wine, then spun away from him, set her glass on the
hearth and lifted one foot toward a wet.  shoe "Coming here was not a
good idea."

"Why?"  David swore under his breath.  What had he been thinking?
DOing?  She'd arrived undeniably upset, and here he was plying her with
alcohol and fighting his desire for her which he was obviously doing a
lousy job of hiding.

"Because what I want from you is too much to ask."  Eden's shoe was too
damp.  Her bare foot stuck on the wet leather.  She jerked her hand to
her mouth, but not before a small cry slipped out and into the room
like the helpless wail of a wounded animal.

"Oh, Eden."  David's will shattered into a thousand pieces at the
neediness in the small sob.  He closed the gap between them, set his
glass on the hearth, grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her
around.  "Good Lord, you're soaked."

"It's raining," she said lamely.  Her wide blue eyes were awash with
tears.

"You should get out of those clothes ... let me..."  His voice choked
with desire.  "Let me throw them in the dryer."

"No.  I'll be fine."  Her gaze stole to the dab of shaving cream still
nestling his earlobe, and without thinking, she snagged a corner of the
towel at his neck and blotted it away.

David groaned in sweet agony.  He hadn't been with a woman since...
since he'd met Eden.  Surely, after all these months of celibacy, he
could find the strength to suppress the need that was tearing through
his veins, burning his restraint as efficiently as the fire was burning
the logs.  He yanked the towel from around his neck, tossed it aside
and struggled to keep his voice level.  "Eden, I--"

"Oh, David."  The desire in his soft green eyes plucked at the unplayed
strings of her heart and filled her soul with a mesmerizing melody,
promising love and untold joys.  "Is it so wrong of me to need you,
David, as protector, confidant, friend?  To want you as I want you now,
in every way a woman wants a man?"

He caught her hand and kissed her palm.  The contact sent a fris son up
her arm and straight into her heart.  She ought to pull away, resist.
"Tell me it's not my imagination.  You do feel something for me, don't
you?"

David couldn't believe he had heard correctly.  He tried speaking but
could only nod.  Had Eden just admitted that she had tender feelings
for him?  He wanted to shout his love for her, but she stiffened
suddenly.  He hesitated.

A look of distress captured her features.  "I can't do this.  I'm
putting you on the spot, ethically and professionally and personally.
You deserve better from me."

"Let me be the judge of that."  His voice rasped over the words, the
loneliness in his soul reaching out to her.

Eden blinked, tried forcing down the lump in her throat, tried catching
her breath.  But all of it was impossible... with him standing so
close, his hands infusing her damp shoulders with heat, his ragged
breath caressing her face, his head lowering.

She raised her face to his and closed her eyes as David's mouth claimed
hers, sweeping her into a whirlwind of passion that seemed to go on and
on, stealing her senses and wrapping her in a velvet cocoon.

She was not conscious of peeling off her wet clothes, only of standing
naked before David, brazenly, as she had never done with another man.
The awe in his eyes thrilled her, humbled hers sent her passion
spiraling higher and higher, and she welcomed his hesitant touches as
he gently buffed her damp skin with the fluffy blue towel.

Then he was kissing her again, on her mouth, on her face, on her neck.
"Oh, David, I've longed for this, longed for you," she murmured,
holding his head in both hands, her fingers luxuriating in the velvety
texture of his thick brown hair.  He lifted his head; the mossy green
of his eyes had darkened to jade with his desire for her.

He murmured, "I can't believe this is happening.  That you're really
here.  Like this."

Her heart drummed in rhythm to the rain striking the windows, a beat
that was savage and wild and beautiful.

"Neither can I."  It was a million dreams come true.  Eden shoved the
terry robe down David's back, her fingertips playing over the muscled
flesh of his broad shoulders and defined arms, across the crisp brown
hair of his wide chest, and she savored each delicious new sensation.

With a honeyed groan, David lifted her against his chest, bringing his
naked need against her own, pulling a breathless gasp from her and
lowering her to the floor beneath him, gazing at her with SUch want in
his eyes she knew that until this moment she had never understood what
it meant to be a woman.

She welcomed his passionate invasion of her most intimate stronghold,
reveled in the taut, silken friction of his sensual thrusts, meeting
his rhythm with equal fervor, their joining like a match struck against
slate, the explosion fast and hard, rocketing through her every vein,
every nerve, every limb, aftershocks tingling-her toes and fingertips,
the soles.  of her feet, the roots of her hair.

Never in her twenty-eight years had she experienced anything close to
this mind-boggling pleasure, this achingly sweet joy.  "I didn't know
making love could feel so... good."

David gave her a lopsided grin, then lifted her hand and kissed her
fingers.  "I dreamed it could."

"Did you, David?"  Eden trailed her fingertips tentatively over his
chest and gazed into his moss green eyes.

"Night and day."

Her heart gave a happy leap.  If he'd thought about it night and day,
it meant he'd wanted to be with her as much as she had wanted to be
with him.  Everything seemed suddenly less bleak.  She felt as if she'd
come home, home to the one man who would always make her feel safe
and... loved.

Loved?  She realized with a jolt that she was fooling herself.  She was
neither safe nor loved.  What David had said was dear, but he'd made no
real declarations.  No promises.  Why should he?  Dismayed, Eden shoved
herself to a sitting position, grabbed up the blue towel and wrapped it
around herself like a toga, closing her eyes against the anxious knot
that once again filled her stomach.  The fire seemed suddenly too hot
against her backside.

"What have I done?  I'm no better than Peter."  And when David lea rued
the whole story, he'd feel as if she'd just used him.

"Don't say that.  You never cheated on Peter while the marriage was
intact.  He's set you free."  David touched her shoulder.  Eden
flinched as if he'd burned her.  What had he done to her?  Shaking his
head, he grabbed his robe and scooted onto the couch.  The thought of
the misery he was causing her ate a hole through the afterglow he'd
been feeling.

He'd compromised her, compromised his ethics .... Why in hall had he
acted so rashly, been so quick to believe that Eden might love him as
much as he loved her?

He clenched his hands in his lap to keep from reaching out to her
again.  "I'm the one who let things get out of hand."

"No.  I wanted this as much as you did."  Afraid her feelings would be
crushed, afraid David didn't love her as she loved him, Eden borrowed a
phrase she'd read in a women's magazine.  "Please, can we just let it
be what it was--a wonderful reaffirmation of life?"

"Sum."  His heart dropped like a deflated balloon.  Was that all it had
meant to her?  A validation of her desirability?  It had meant so very
much more to him.

Eden read the confusion and hurt on David's face and wondered if she'd
misjudged the depth of his feeling for her.  But what would he feel
when he heard the whole truth?  She had held it in long enough.  She
lurched to her feet, awkward in the mammoth towel.  "I haven't told you
the worst."

Frowning, David shrugged on his robe,

Her confidence faltered.  She drew a bracing breath and blurted, "Peter
is dropping Beth from his insurance."

Concern grabbed his handsome face.  He was acutely aware of Beth's dire
condition, her long wait for a kidney donor.  "But that would knock her
down the waiting list.  Maybe off of it completely.  Doesn't he know
that?"

"Of course he does.  He doesn't care.  As far as Peter is concerned,
Beth is the main reason for our marriage falling apart."

"Her illness, you mean?"

"That's quite common.  I deal every week with families struggling to
stay together after a serious illness or injury has befallen one of
them."

Eden gave a bitter laugh.  "Peter resents the time demands she places
on me."

David knew he was too close to this to be impartial; he'd abandoned his
objectivity the moment he'd touched her.  But he could understand how a
husband would resent a lack of attention from his wife, especially a
wife like Eden, especially a man like Peter Prescott, whom David
suspected was a selfish bastard.  "Beth didn't wish the disease on
herself."

"Exactly."  Eden was gripping the towel with white knuckles.  "But I
can't let him take away her insurance.  It's a death sentence for her.
What am I going to do?"

So help him God, he wants!  to fold her into his arms again.  He
clenched his fists.  "Have you seen a lawyer yet?"

She shook her head.  "I'm not sure it will do me any good."

"Why?  This is a community-property state.  Aclever attorney might be
able to finagle a settlement that keeps Beth's insurance coverage in
lieu of other concessions to Peter."

He didn't doubt for a moment that Eden would agree to such a
settlement--even if it meant a substantial financial loss for her -
with Beth's life at stake.  So why had she paled at the suggestion?

She didn't keep him in the dark.  "I signed a prenuptial agreement."

Of course.  He should have realized.  A man of Prescott's wealth would
insist on a prenuptial agreement.  '61 take it the document doesn't
serve your best interests."

A terse laugh burst from her, and she grimaced.  "Not unless Peter
conveniently dies before the divorce is final."

"What?"

Eden brought her hand to her mouth, realizing belatedly how heartless
she sounded.  "I didn't mean that.  I'm not wishing Peter dead."  Nor
was she explaining this coherently.  She took another breath.  "The
terms of the agreement state that if he dies before me, the estate will
be divided between his sister and me.  But if we divorce, I'll get
nothing."  She began to tremble.  "Without the insurance, Beth will
die."

"No.  You won't allow that."  And neither would he.  There were a few
sources he would investigate first thing tomorrow.  But until he had,
he wouldn't mention them, wouldn't give her false hope.  But he could
offer real hope.  "Eden, there has to be something you can do.  Talk to
an attorney about it.  I know you'll find a way."

"Find a way?"  Desperation nipped at her.  Since she'd learned last
year that Beth's kidneys were failing and that she was not a possible
donor, Eden had dedicated every waking hour to her sister's welfare. It
had been a horror watching the lively twenty-two-year-old college
student transform into a walking ghost, so tired most days she did
little more than sleep.  Damn Peter Prescott's cold heart.  If she
didn't stop him from going through with the divorce, Beth would die.
"The only 'way' I'll-find is to stop Peter."

She gathered her clothes and rushed down the hall to the bathroom.
Minutes later she was dressed, damp fabric sticking to her warmed
flesh, chilling her again.  But her mind was so full, she ignored the
physical discomfort.  She wanted to avoid David, to leave without
trying to deal with the further complication in her life that their
lovemaking had created.

But he was waiting outside the bathroom door.  He had donned jeans and
a T-shirt.  "Eden, please don't leave like this."

"I have to."  She brushed past him.

He followed her to the foyer.  "Let me help.  I'll do anything it
takes.  Stay and talk about it."

"Not now.  I just can't .... "Still, she appreciated his offer.  She
paused at the open door, rose up on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on
the lips.  "I'll call you later."

"I'll hold you to that."  David hated letting her go.  "You need to
change into dry clothes.  Promise me you'll go straight home."

"I promise."

But for the next few hours, Eden drove aimlessly through the
rain-washed streets of Seattle, crossed the 520 floating bridge into
Bellevue, then drove down 405 to 1-90 and back into Seattle, repeating
the route several times, hardly noticing either the cities' night
lights or the demands of the heavy traffic.

Her mind puzzled over the dilemmas of Peter and the insurance, of David
and the wonderful way he'd made her feel, the awful way she'd left
things between them.  In her mind's eye, she recalled his glorious
naked body, remembered how brazen she'd been in the'tr lovemaking, how
abandoned.  Heat stole through her.

With Peter she always held something back, never even permitted the
lights on.  She had been his possession, his showpiece, the prettiest
wife in a room full of pretty wives, something to make other men
envious of him--a role she detested.

A role that ended when Beth's illness began taking its toll on her
energy.  Her looks.

Then Peter had made certain she knew just how Undesirable she'd become,
demanding his marital rights but twice in the past year.  She shuddered
as she thought of the last time, only two weeks ago.  Peter had been
drunk and in a vicious mood.  She'd gritted her teeth until he'd
finished.

But with David everything had been so different.  Did he love her? Just
a little?  The delicious warmth rushed through her again.  He hadn't
seemed to notice the circles under her eyes, the weight she'd lost. 
He'd made her feel special, alluring, and in turn she'd trusted him
with her every vulnerability, knowing he'd neither ridicule nor scorn
her.

Eden stretched.  If she trusted David to this degree, shouldn't she
trust his advice?  Maybe there was some other way to cover the cost of
Beth's transplant surgery and recovery.  Making up her mind to call an
attorney first thing in the morning, she left the freeway behind and
headed for the Issaquah Plateau.

A mile from home, she stopped for gas.  It was nearly 2:00 a.m. when
she arrived home and pulled into the five-car garage.  Peter's Porsche
was still gone.  He hadn't told her to move out yet, but he would soon
enough.  Well, she'd deal with that when the time came.

She entered the kitchen.  The phone was ringing.  Fearing it might
awaken Beth or Ariel Bell, her nurse, both of whom slept on this floor,
or Peter's sister, Valerie, who slept in the room directly above the
kitchen, she grabbed the receiver.  "Hello."

An unfamiliar voice said, "Mrs.  Peter Prescott, please."

"Speaking."

"Mrs.  Prescott, this is Detective Kollecki with the Issaquah Police
Department.  I'd like to come over and speak with you."

"Now?"  At this hour?  Eden's heartbeat accelerated.  "What about?"

"About your husband."

Eden gripped the phone tighter.  "H-has Peter been in an accident?"  He
always drove his car too fast.  "I'd rather not say over the phone."

An odd queasiness washed over Eden.  It had been a horrendous day.
Apparently it wasn't over.  Then again, was this really the police? She
insisted on phoning the caller back to verify his identity.  A moment
later, after looking up the phone number, she had the Issaquah police
on the line and was put through to Detective Kollecki, who still
insisted on telling her about Peter in person.  Her queasiness
worsened.  "You'd better come right over."

They arrived fifteen minutes later.  Two of them, dressed in
plainclothes.  Kollecki was a stockily built man with bright red hair
and Santa cheeks.  Eden didn't catch the other officer's name. "Please,
just tell me what's happened to Peter."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we found your husband earlier this evening. He's
dead."  Kollecki grimaced.  "It looks like murder."

Chapter Two

"M-murder?"  Eden stared at Kollecki with disbelieving eyes, but the
shock of his words was sinking in, stepping up her already thudding
heartbeat.  "How--how could that be?"

Kollecki seemed to be reading her reactions, measuring her responses as
if she was taking an oral.  test he would later grade.  "There's no
question about it, ma'am.  The medical examiner was definite."

Definite.  Peter was dead.  Murdered.  Her hand flew to her mouth.  It
was unbelievable.  She noticed Kol-lecki's intense dark eyes sweeping
her, taking in every detail of her, from her rumpled clothing to the
mascara she knew was smudged beneath her eyes.  But whatever he deduced
from this she could not guess.

"May we come in, ma'am?  There are a few questions we'd like to ask."

Eden led them into the formal living room, switching on lamps before
perching on the edge of the sofa.  Her mind reeled, her body felt hot
and cold at the same time and the glare from the table lamps seemed as
harshly bright as if their shades were missing.

Kollecki sat across from her, dwarfing the delicate Queen Anne chair,
his dun-colored raincoat dull against the gold-striped brocade
cushions.  He glanced at a tablet nestled in his thick hand.  "Do you
know a... Shannon Smalley?"

The question startled her.  A rush of heat beat a path up her spine and
into her face.  Did she know Peter's new love?  Oh, yes.  Only too
well.  But why was he asking her this?  Her brows tugged together. "Ms.
Smalley is Dr.  Dayton, er, our dentist's receptionist."  "Do you know
where she lives?"  Eden stiffened.  "Why?"  "Then you don't?"

"Really, Officer Kollecki, I don't how you found out about Peter's--"
Eden stopped herself.

But it was all Kollecki needed to hear.  "So you knew about them.  For
how long?"

A huge sigh pushed through her lips.  "About eight hours... I
suppose."

"I see."  He jotted something on the tablet.

The emotional tide she'd staved off during the past several hours
threatened to overwhelm her.  Tears stung her eyes.  She struggled
against them; she would not cry in front of these men.  She cleared her
throat and somehow kept her voice level.  "Look, I'll cooperate fully,
but it's nearly 3:00 a.m. It's been a hell of a day and it isn't over
yet.  Could your questions wait until morning?"

The two men exchanged a secret glance, then Kol-lecki folded his tablet
into his pocket.  "Sure.  Call me around ten."

Moments later the two policemen were back in their car.  Kollecki gazed
out at the huge house as his partner started the engine.  "What did you
make of her?"

"Cool.  Like ice."  His partner smirked.  "Her old man's offed and she
don't even ask how."

Kollecki nodded.  "Or where."

PATCHES OF BLUE in the cloudy sky gave David hope that the day would be
a good one--even though he was off to a late start.  He'd tossed and
turned throughout the long night, dreaming of Eden, of making love to
her, worrying about her state of mind.  All he wanted to do was call
her, just hear her voice, just talk to her.  She'd promised to call.
Why hadn't she?  He'd give her until noon.  If he hadn't heard by then,
he'd drive to her house.

He hauled his briefcase to his side, pulled open his front door and
stepped onto the porch.  He felt something under his right foot.
Glancing down, he saw he'd crushed a flower.  The moisture left his
mouth, and a chill like icy water sluiced down his spine.  It was a
rose.  A single white rose.

Was this someone's idea of a sick joke?  Staggering back, he jerked his
head up.  The only people around were his neighbors going about their
morning routines.  He drew a shaky breath, then squatted and examined
the flower.  It had stopped raining sometime near midnight.  The rose
was dry.

Should he call the police?  And... what?  Ask if any of his friends or
students were missing?  Had been found dead?  His pulse raced, and
David willed himself to call down.  He was being paranoid.  Unnerved
for no reason.

Besides, whom would he call about it?  That unpleasant detective who'd
handled Marianne DePaul's case?  He gave a bitter laugh.  He sure as
hell didn't want to open that can of worms.

Not without just cause.

He hurried back inside and brought out a Ziploc bag, then, using a
pencil, he lifted the crushed flower and deposited it within. Kollecki.
That was the police officer's name, David recalled with accompanying
distaste.  The cop had actually suspected him of killing Marianne.  If
Rose Hatcher hadn't confessed... It didn't bear thinking about.  Yet on
the drive to work, old fears and guilts pecked at him. Was the rose
significant in another crime?  Or had it been placed on his porch as a
symbol of love?  Maybe by Eden?  No.  It had still been raining when
Eden left.  She wouldn't have returned.

However, just thinking about Eden eased the tension gripping him.  He
hummed along with a CD the rest of the way to the University of
Washington Medical Center.  He ocx:upied a two-room office on the
sixteenth floor of the BB Tower, a seventeen-story structure attached
to the east side of the hospital.

He hurried through the busy halls, certain Colleen MacLaine, his
secretary of the past year, had beaten him in, a rare occurrence.  The
aroma of fresh coffee greeted him, confirming his assumption as he
entered the main door and giving him the first sense of normalcy he'd
had since last night.

Colleen looked up from her desk, her large, cobalt blue eyes lighting
at the sight of him.  "Get held up in traffic?"

"Slept through the alarm."  It was a wonder he'd slept at all.

"You probably needed the extra rest."  Colleen's fawn brown hair was
twined in a French braid with a forest green ribbon at its tip that
matched the color of her severely cut suit.  Her face was pretty, her
manner de mute, emphasized by the crisp white blouse she wore buttoned
to her chin.

He set his briefcase, with the Ziploc bag tucked inside, on the floor
beside Colleen's desk, strode to the coffeemaker and snatched up his
regular cup.  He never should have allowed Eden to run out last night.
Who knew what was going on in that beautiful head of hers this morning?
Maybe he should call her now.

He noticed Colleen was grimacing as she did when she had something to
tell him she knew he wouldn't like.  "What?"

"Uh, Ms.  Prescott arrived about ten minutes ago.  She insisted on
waiting in your office."

It was his strict policy that no one wait unattended in his private
office.  David pulled his mouth into a flat line, and in justification
of herself, Colleen added, "She was so very upset."

He nodded.  "It's all right."

Colleen's shoulders sagged in relief.  "I gave her some coffee."

"Good."  Anxious to see Eden, he finished filling his own cup, then
swung open his office door, speaking her name before he saw her.
"Eden?"

But it wasn't Eden waiting in the high-backed chair across from his
desk.  Peter Prescott's sister, Valerie, rose to her full five feet
nine inches and whirled around to face him.  One vivid ginger eyebrow
arched like an arrow toward her slicked-back auburn hair.  "Eden?
Surely you aren't expecting her this morning?"

David flinched.  No, he supposed he wasn't expecting Eden ths morning.
Drawing in the scent of Valerie's perfume--an aroma that brought to
mind again the white rose on his doorstep--David wondered anew who'd
left it and why.

His office, as all the windowed offices on this floor, had three glass
panels, separated by chrome frames, set high in the end wall above a
chest-high heating system that ran the length of the wall.  Only the
middle window could be opened, and that could only be opened with a
special key kept by security.

Besides his desk and two high-backed leather chairs, his own
contributions to the decor, there were built-in bookshelves, two
shoulder-height metal filing cabinets and an easy chair in the corner.
Colleen had contributed two jade plants that reposed atop the heating
unit and thrived with her cate.

Distracted, David skirted his desk and set his cup on its satiny walnut
finish, and it occurred to him that he had not expected Valerie this
morning, either.  She was no longer his patient hadn't been since about
a month or mote before she'd recommended Eden and Beth to him.

But Colleen was right; something had Valerie terribly upset.  Her hazel
eyes were red-streaked and puffy as if from crying.  Usually only her
beloved brother, Peter, reduced her to tears.  He couldn't help
wondering if Prescott had burned Valerie with that acid tongue of his
in the wake of asking Eden for a divorce.  "Did we have an appointment,
Valerie?"

"No.  But--" She choked on a sob.  Tears sprang to her eyes and spilled
down her cheeks.  "I--I thought you'd understand."

David instantly regretted the brusque tone in his voice.  Surely he
could spare her a few minutes.  "Understand what?"

"That I'd need to talk to you.  H-how am I going to go on... now that
he's been killed?"

David's confusion deepened.  His mind was too crammed with his own
worries to decipher what Valerie was saying.  He schooled his patience
and said gently, "Perhaps you should start from the beginning.  Who's
been killed?"

"Why, Peter, of course.  Haven't you listened to a radio?  Read a
newspaper?  He was murdered last night by that--that ungrateful wife of
his."

"What?"  David's mouth dropped onto his chest and hung open like a
sprung door.  "How?"

Valerie withdrew a lace hankie from the sleeve of her black dress and
waved it at him, wafting her rosy scent across the expanse of the desk,
before she brought it to her nose and sniffled.  "Shot him... probably
with my little gun... it's missing, you know.  And that rude policeman
said Peter was killed with a small-caliber weapon."

David felt as if a bullet had pierced his own heart.  Eden?  Never. 
She wasn't capable of murder.  He gripped the arms of his chair.  But
he dare not contradict Valerie.  Their years of therapy had unmasked
her jealousy of Eden, a resentment that had started the moment Peter
proposed marriage.

Dear God, when had Prescott been killed?  Where?  At home?  A sheet of
ice spread through his belly, and he couldn't bring himself to ask. Had
the police arrested Eden?  "Wh-where is Eden now?"

Valerie sat straighter, obviously affronted by the concern in his
voice.  "Home, with Beth.  Hasn't even shed a single tear.  But dear
Beth hasn't taken the news much better than I. She's so fragile, you
know.  Like me, I suppose."  She cleared her throat, and fresh tears
trickled down her cheeks.  "Could you possibly give me some more of
those little mood pills?  I can't seem to quit shaking or crying."

If Peter had been murdered at the home, the police would surely have
declared it a crime scene and required the women to move out during the
investigation.  He breathed slightly easier.

"Dr.  Coulter?"  Valerie snuffled.

David gave her a sympathetic smile.  "I'm sorry, Valerie.  Sorry about
your loss and that I can't help you with a prescription.  You're no
longer my patient.  I suggest you see your M.D."

LYzY ANDEKS, David's student assistant, was conferring with Colleen
over the morning newspaper when he came out of his office minutes after
Valerie left.  Colleen turned back to her typewriter.

But his student assistant made no pretense of working.  She shoved her
shoulder-length, straight, dark brown hair away from her oval face. The
young woman's appearance was all what-you-see-is-what-you-get.  But
something in the depths of her coffee brown eyes had long made him
wonder at the sensitivity hidden behind her normally friendly-clown
attitude.  She poked the newspaper.  "Have you seen this?"

Still reeling from the news, he moved closer and peered over her
shoulder at the front page of the Seattle Times.  Peter Prescott's
photo stood out beneath the headline Local Businessman Murdered.  "No.
But it seems I'm the only one in town who hasn't."

"Not Prescott," Lynzy said, annoyed impatience in her tone.  "The woman
who was killed with him."

Valerie hadn't mentioned any woman being killed with Prescott.  His gut
clenched.  Peter's new lady?

Lynzy tapped the article, arching her neck to look back and up at him.
"Shannon Smalley."

"Shannon was with Peter Prescott?"  Stunned disbelief jackknifed his
knees, and David dropped onto the chair beside his seeretary's desk.
Shannon was supposed to have had dinner with him last night, but she'd
called to say she was spending the night with... Pete."  Peter
Prescott?  Shannon was the woman Prescott had left Eden for?  He
muttered, "Not Shannon and Peter Prescott?"

"Yes."  Lynzy nodded with macabre relish.  "They were murdered at her
house in Klahanie--one of those housing developments in the Issaquah
Plateau."

Colleen stopped typing and twisted in her swivel chair.  Her eyes
seemed as round as cue balls.  "I don't understand what a rich guy who
rubbed elbows with the movers and shakers of the world was even doing
with someone like her."

"Come on, girl."  Lynzy rolled her eyes.  "It's so obvious.  Read
between the lines."

The secretary blushed crimson.  "But how would he even know her?  She
was a dental receptionist."

"My dentist's receptionist," David answered in a flat voice, adding
almost to himself, "I think the Preseotts are also Dr.  Dayton's
patients... probably where Prescott met her."

He scanned the article, seeking details, needing explanations for the
unexplainable.  The words seemed to blur.  Shock waves rocked David,
pitching him back in time, dredging up his own connection to Shannon...
and her older sister--a friend of Colleen's, who also happened to be a
nurse in the transplant wing of this very hospital.

Lynzy scooted one miniskirted hip onto Colleen's desk, revealing the
edge of a small rose tattoo just above her knee.  Swinging a long,
boot-clad leg to some beat of her own, she said, "You do remember...
her name was on Rose Hatcher's hit list."

He hadn't forgotten.  He doubted Lynzy or Colleen had forgotten,
either.

Colleen fingered her high collar as if it were choking her.  "Your name
and mine were also on that list, Lynzy."

"Yeah, it gives me goose bumps just remembering.  Hey, Doc, you haven't
gotten any more white roses, have you?"

David felt the heat drain from his face.

"I was just kidding, Doc."  Lynzy's nervous laugh died.  "Hey, are you
all right?  You're kind of green."

But David didn't hear her; his mind was on the crushed rose.  What did
it mean?  Why had it been left on his doorstep?  Was someone trying to
make him think Shannon was dead because of him?  All he'd done was
recommend her for the reeeptionist's job.  David rubbed his eyes with
the flat of his hand.  No.  This time had nothing to do with that time.
Rose Hatcher was locked away.  She couldn't have killed Shannon.

But someone had.  Eden's words rang through his head.  The only way is
to stop Peter.  Not; His stomach roiled.  He clenched his fists.

Lynzy touched his arm.  "Doc, maybe you should lie down in your office
for a while."

David shook his head.  "No.  I--I have an errand to run."

Afraid and shell-shocked, torn between rushing to Eden and taking the
rose to the police, he snatched up his briefcase, which he'd forgotten
beside Colleen's desk.  "Reschedule this morning's appointments.  I can
be reached on my car phone if the need arises."

He darted out into a day that now promised to be anything but a good
one, and five minutes later telephoned Eden's house.  Her recorded
voice asked him to leave a message after the beep.  Frustrated, he
punched the Off button and dropped the phone on the seat beside his
briefcase, which contained the crushed rose.  Eden could be screening
calls, but he wasn't about to leave a message that anyone might
overhear.

Say, Valerie.  Or the police.

The heavy freeway traffic tried his patience, and by the time he
reached Issaquah, his nerves were frayed.  Front Street traffic was
even worse: stop-and-go.  The half-mile drive to Sunset Way took ten
minutes.  He drew a ragged breath as he finally pulled into a parking
space at the Issaquah police station.  Staring at the building, he felt
as if the whole awful nightmare had started again.  Or that it had
never ended.

AT THE ISSAQUAH police station, Eden sat in a windowless room that
smelled of stale cigarette smoke and depression.  The overhead light
was glaringly bright, and the headache she'd had all night had worsened
into a steady, thumping pain, like a sledgehammer slamming against her
temples.

With her back to the open door, she waited on an uncomfortable chair,
her shaking hands clenched in her lap as she tried blocking out the
memory of h w Peter had looked when she'd gone to identify his body an
hour earlier.  How could someone be so alive one moment and so ...
so--?  She jammed her hand against her belly.  There was no associating
the vital man she'd lived with for seven years with that cold object
lying on a slab in the King County Morgue.

Voices filtered in from an open door down the hallway, bits and pieces
of conversation.  Desperate for a distraction, she listened.  "Shannon
Sinalley... why do I... connect her with... shrink Coulter?"

Eden's spine stiffened.  Were they talking about David?  She craned to
hear better.

"Her name ... the hit list that deranged student of the doc's who
murdered--"

Eden lost the last few words, but then the louder of the two Voices
boomed clearly.  "Hah!  I remember now.  Man, I don't like
coincidences."

A door banged shut, cutting off the rest of the conversation.  The
stagnant air in the small room seemed thicker than ever, and Eden felt
as if her lungs couldn't draw in enough oxygen to keep her alive.  Of
course, David knew Shannon Smalley from Dr.  Dayton's office, but if
she'd understood correctly, Shannon had somehow been involved in the
death of that student of his a while back.  But how?

Footsteps behind her sent the thought scurrying.  Every nerve in her
body felt pinched as Kollecki entered and kicked the door shut.  His
dark red hair was slicked off his high forehead as if he'd just
showered and hadn't bothered to dry it.  He carded two disposable cups
of steaming liquid.  "Thought you'd like some coffee."

"Thank you."  The words came out raspy.  Her mouth was too dry, but the
taste of bile at the back of her throat kept her from reaching for the
coffee cup he set near her hand.

He scraped back a chair and sat opposite her, pulled a tablet and pen
from his suit pocket, flipped through a few pages, then lifted his
dark, intense gaze to her.  "Now, Mrs.  Prescott, what time did you
last see your husband?"

"Yesterday, around 6:00 p.m."  She focused on that image of Peter,
shoving the other vile one away, shoving the word some thoughts of
David further yet.

"Would that be the same time he told you about his affair with Miss
Sinalley?"

As if reaching for a lifeline, Eden curled her small, trembling hands
around the cup.  Last night she'd wished for someone to discuss her
problems with, but never in her wildest imaginings had she envisioned
it would be a police detective.  But it was, and under the
circumstances, she decided, honesty was probably the best policy.  "My
husband wasn't just having an affair with Ms.  Smalley, he intended to
marry her."

Kollecki,s eyebrows twitched.  "So he wanted a divorce?  '

Eden nodded, suspecting he already knew that.  "Did you argue the
point?"

"No."  She shook her head.  "No one argued with Peter."

"So a divorce was okay with you?"

Eden took a gulp of coffee.  Hot and acrid, it rolled over her tongue
and landed in her queasy stomach like a fiery ball of oil.  Yesterday
at this time, the answer to that question would likely have been a
resounding no.

But by the time she'd arrived home last night, determined to find a
lawyer who'd stave off Peter's intention of dropping Beth from his
insurance, she could honestly say she'd come to terms with the idea.

Of course, a good deal of the credit was David's He'd helped her
rediscover her self-respect and shown her that there were marvelous
experiences awaiting her in this life.  She stared at the dark coffee.
"I wasn't sorry the marriage was over, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh, really?"  Kollecki studied her, then checked his notepad.
"According to your sister-in-law, you signed an ironclad prenuptial
agreement."

Eden glanced at the wall behind him.  What could she say?  There was no
justifying being young and naive, being just plain stupid, being so
desperate for a better life she'd jumped at the first offer.  "Yes, I
did."

"Ms.  Prescott says you inherit half of your deceased husband's estate
now."

Ice threaded her heart.  "That's a term of the agreement."

"How fortunate for you that he was killed before he could get his
divorce."

She gasped, jerking her gaze hack to Kollecki's.  "What a vicious thing
to say!  Lots of people have lousy marriages, Peter and I included. But
I never wished him dead."

She glared at him but could no longer keep at bay the awful image from
the morgue.  The coffee churned in her stomach.  She was going to be
sick.  "I couldn't kill anyone."

"Your sister-in-law seems to have a different opinion" '

"She's high-strung.  She became hysterical at the news and accused
everyone whose name popped into her head, including poor Beth."  Eden
had paid little attention.  Surely the police weren't giving Valerie's
ravings credence?  Fear crawled through her.  "valerie was very
attached to her brother."

"I heard he didn't treat her well."

Eden's eyebrows shot up.  Who would have told him a thing like that?
Not Valerie, not Beth and not her.

Beth's nurse?  Ariel Bell might have overheard conversations and
related tales of, or perhaps been the victim of, Peter's sharp tongue.
It would certainly explain Ariel's dislike of him.

"I need to know where you were last night between nine and midnight."

Eden shoved the coffee to one side.  The ache inside her head vied with
the pain in her stomach.  She'd left David's around nine.  She massaged
her temples with her fingertips.  If only she'd gone directly home,
then Beth or her nurse might still have been awake and could have
verified her whereabouts.  Then perhaps telling Kollecki she'd been at
David's would help.  But now... If the police discovered she was in
love with David, had made love to David... Shivers raced over her flesh
as she recalled the things she'd said to David, realizing how they must
sound to him now, how her words could be used against her.  Motive. She
had it in spades.

And what about David and his declaration that he'd do anything he could
to help her?  What about his con-ncction to Shannon Smalley?  The fear
inside her leapt another three notches.  She decided not to mention
David-unless it became absolutely necessary.  "I ... just drove
around... for hours."

"Can anyone verify that?"

The only thing anyone could verify was that she'd stopped for gas
sometime around 2:00 am.  "I was alone."

"Too bad."

There was no mistaking the threat in his gently spoken words.  Eden's
pulse stepped up a beat.

"After Peter's declaration... I needed to think."  Even though she
spoke the truth, she heard how desperate and lame it sounded.  There
was an odd, tinny taste on her tongue.

Kollecki referred to his notebook, flipped a page, then another. Slowly
his gaze lifted.  "I'1i ask you the same question I asked last night. 
Do you know where Shannon Smalley lived?"

"Yes."  Last night she hadn't known the significance of this question.
Now she did.  Bile climbed her throat.  She swallowed hard.  "Do I need
a lawyer?"

His eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.  "That's up to you."

Eden felt like a cornered mouse about to be eaten by the sly cat.  Her
fear escalated to terror2 Somehow she managed to sound calmer than
she'd thought possible.  "I think I'd better call my attorney."

"All right."  He stood and gathered his tablet and pen.

"Am--am I free to go?"

The look in Kollecki's dark eyes chilled Eden almost as much as his
words.  "For now."

Chapter Three

As David locked his car, he glanced around the parking lot; just behind
Front Street, it was shaped like a long salmon and accommodated the
police station, the library, a small park and several businesses. There
was an erratic flow of automobile and foot traffic.

A petite woman hurrying from the police station grabbed his attention.
Eden.  He caught up with her as she reached her minivan.  "Eden, I just
heard."

She spun around, blinking at him.  "David?"

"I--" Her appearance eclipsed the rest of his thought; she looked as if
she were on the verge of collapse.  Dark circles underscored her eyes,
a sure sign that she'd slept little, if at all.  He longed to pull her
into his arms but resisted.  This parking lot was too public and too
close to the very department investigating her husband's murder.

"Why are you here?"  She took a step closer to him.  "NOt to see
Kollecki?"  So Ko!!ecki Was in charge of this case, too.  His stomach
clenched.  "I, ah, yes, I am."

Apprehension leapt into her eyes.  "I didn't tell him I was with you
last night.  I was hoping you wouldn't mention it, either--at least
until we could talk."

"I'm not seeing Kollecki about you."  David's grip on his briefcase had
his knuckles aching and his imagination working overtime, conjuring
visions of the briefcase being transparent, the rose exposed to view.
"It's another matter altogether."

God, he prayed that was the truth.

Eden's eyes narrowed, and a frown furrowed her smooth forehead.
"Shannon Sinalley?"

The moisture left his mouth.  "How did you know?"  She seemed about to
say something, but a patrol car arrived and stole her attention.
Apprehension reappeared in her eyes, and when she spoke, it was almost
a whisper.  "Not here."

"Where, when?"  David lowered his own voice.  "Name it."

Yet again her attention was diverted by a car pulling into a reserved
police space.  David glanced over his shoulder.  The man who sat behind
the wheel was staring at them.  There was something familiar about him.
"who's that?"

"The detective who came to the house last night with Kollecki," Eden
whispered, then raised her voice loudly enough for anyone within
earshot to hear.  "Thank you for your condolences, Dr.  Coulter.  Beth
is expecting me for lunch."

With that, she wheeled around and climbed into her vail.

He wanted to snatch her back, to kiss away her pain, her apprehension.
Instead, feeling the same cold panic he'd felt at finding the rose,
David stepped away from the van.  The engine roared to life.  He fell
into step four paces behind the detective who'd been staring at Eden
and him, recalling now that he'd been the other investigator on
Marianne DePaul's case.

Detective Ron Tagg.  That was his name.  He was medium height with a
reed-thin body, gray hair and, as David remembered, a reasonable
disposition.  Maybe he could talk to Tagg about the rose instead of
Kollecki.

But Kollecki insisted on being included.  The three men sat around the
oblong table in the windowless interrogation room.  The rose, in its
Ziploc bag, reposed on the table.  Kollecki wrote David a receipt for
it, then, handing it to him, leveled his cold, dark eyes at him.

David hated the crawling feeling dealing with Kol.  cki gave him.  "So,
what do you think?"

Kollecki's gaze grew measured.  "It may or may not be a piece of the
puzzle."

"I thought it might be someone's idea of a sick joke."  David tugged on
his ear.  The truth was, a part of him still clung to that idea.  He
wanted it to be a disgusting coincidence, wanted Kollecki and Tagg to
confirm it.

"Could be we've got us a copycat killer."  Tagg had the gravelly voice
of a heavy smoker.

"Copycat?"  A sinking feeling dragged the bottom from David's stomach.
"You mean that Shannon, not Prescott, could have been the main
target?"

Tagg shrugged.  "Could be someone just wants us to think copycat."

"Could be someone closer to home killed these people."  Kollecki puffed
out his Santa cheeks.  "How well did you know Shannon Smalley?"

"Pretty well--as I told you last winter."  David squirmed uncomfortably
on the straight-backed seat.  Had Kollecki just questioned Eden in this
drab room?  "Shannon is ... was the kid sister of a nurse who works in
the U-Dub's transplant wing.  Denise Smalley is a friend of my
secretary's.  That's how I came to recommend her for the job with Dr.
Dayton, and subsequently Shannon and I became friends."

Kollecki glanced at his tablet, then lifted his shrewd gaze.  "My
sources say you were more than friends.  Any truth to that?"

"None."  What sources?  Disquiet twined David's heart.  "We were only
friends.  We had dinner together occasionally, but it was strictly
platonic.  In fact, I was supposed to dine with her last night, but she
canceled at the last minute to be with Pete.  I had no idea "Pete' was
Peter Prescott."

"You knew Prescott?"

"No.  His sister is my former patient, and his sister-in law is
presently a patient, but I'd never met the man."  "But you do know the
beautiful widow."

It was not a question, and David disliked the implications.  "You make
it sound like I have a harem of women, Detective.  I don't.  I do know
a lot of women.  Most of them professionally.  But I seldom date.  As
to Mrs.  Preseott--I just told you, her sister, Beth, is my patient."

Kollecki lifted a hand in an innocent gesture.  "Hey,

I didn't mean to push any buttons, Doctor."

Like hell he didn't.

David guessed Kollecki had heard about Eden and him talking in the
parking lot.  Kollecki might not yet know how intimately Eden and he
knew one another, but David feared it was only a matter of time before
he found out.

"If that's all--" David tucked the receipt for the rose into his suit
pocket and stood "--I have patients to see this afternoon."

"Of course."  Kollecki shoved up and out of his own chair.  "And let's
not mention the rose to anyone else for now."

"All right," David agreed.

"But if any more of these show up--" Tagg grasped the Ziploc bag and
shook it at him "--or if you recall anything else..."

"I'll let you know immediately."

Kollecki let him out the lodced door that to the parking lot.  David
wanted to go straight to Eden and figure out what was going on.  But as
h startl toward the parking area, he encountered Dni Sinalley standing
outside the double glass doors that accessod the waiting room; she was
lemning against the brick wall, smoking.

Her hair, a mix of bleached and natural ash blond, was chopped in a
longish crew cut that surprisingly flattered her pert face.  Skintight
jeans and a baggy sweatshirt covered her compact body, and dark smudges
stood out under her thick-lashed, sky blue eyes.

"David?"  Her voice cracked as she spotted him.  "Why have they dragged
you down here?"

"I came of my own accord."  He wanted to snatch the words back the
second the5' left his mouth.  Kollecki had warned him not to discuss
the rose with anyone, and here he was blurting out that he'd come to
the police station of his own volition.  He blw out a flustered breath
and lied.  "To see if I could find out anything more than was in the
newspaper."

"I'm waiting to see Detective Tagg."  Denise took another drag on her
cigarette.  "Did they tell you anything?"

"Nope."

She blew out the smoke, blinking furiously, something another woman
might do to keep tears at bay.  But Denise claimed she didn't possess
"fluffy female frailties."  Like crying.  He suspected the truth was
that instead of acknowledging her feelings, she stifled them, a
dangerous kind of repression that too often found negative outlets.

"You expect people to die."  If she felt any pain, her voice didn't
betray it.  "It's part of life.  I deal with it week in and week out.
But someone you know being murdered is so... "Twilight Zone.""

More than you know.  David had a lump in his throat as big as the rose
that now resided in Kollecki's property room.

The ash on the cigarette grew long as she leveled an odd gaze at him.
"I didn't even know she was seeing this Prescott guy.  Or that they
were engaged.  The only man Shah ever talked to me about was you."

He stiffened.  "Then you know we were only friends."  David pressed his
lips together, his expression defying her to challenge his claim.  Had
Denise told Kollecki differently?  Was she his source?  "Have you
spoken to Detective Kollecki?"

"Oh, him!  Wouldn't tell me squat.  But between you and me, my money's
on that wife of Prescott's,"

Without thought of the fallout it might incur, David leapt to Eden's
defense.  "Eden isn't capable of committing murder."

Denise glanced sharply at him.  "Sounds like she's got a champion."

"Not really."  David felt his face redden at the lie.  "I've gotten to
know her because of her sister.  Beth Montgomery."

"I know whose sister she is.  Friend of mine is Beth's live-in nurse."
She lifted one eyebrow pointedly at him.  "Has the widow Prescott ever
rented your couch?"

"No."  A nerve jumped in David's temple.  "Eden's never been my
patient."

Denise dropped her cigarette and ground it out with her boot.  "Well
then, maybe you don't know her as well as you think you do, David."

David curbed his rising temper, offered Denise his condolences, then
excused himself and headed to his car.  She was overcome with grief,
frantic for answers, talking nonsense.  He did know Eden.  Knew her
well.  But what if Denise had spouted her slanted views to Kollecki?

He started his car engine and pulled out of his parking space.  Too
often in murder cases, the police had only to look to the victim's
spouse for their perpetrator.  Was that what had panicked Eden?  The
fear that she might soon be arrested?

He could only hope the rose had made a difference.  Perhaps thrown
another light on the evidence, diverted the focus from Eden, given the
detectives something else to think about, someone else to look at.

Had-he just sacrificed himself in the name of love?  Fear filtered
through his thoughts and pulled a realization from some dark, hidden
corner: what if this really wasn't about Peter Prescott but about
Shannon?  About some "source" who was under the misapprehension that
she had been "special" to him?  Was he crazy to think that?
Egomaniacal?  Given his experiences last February, he didn't think
so.

He wished he'd told Eden about the rose before he'd handed it over to
Kollecki, but he'd wanted to spare her extra worry.  On the other hand,
it might have eased her mind to know there was more going on than met
the eye.  And now the detective had cautioned him not to tell anyone
about the rose.  Well, the hell with Kollecki.

Eden and he needed to compare notes.  Mayhe with pooled information,
they could figure out what was going on.  Driving back to Seattle, he
dialed her number and again got the answering machine.  He kept phoning
all afternoon, between classes and sessions with patients, and later at
home.  Finally after eight that evening, someone answered.

"Hello?"  The voice was very like Eden's but without the strength.

"Beth?"  he asked.

"Yeah... ?"  Wariness laced her tone.  "Dr.  Coulter?"

"Yes.  How are you feeling, Beth?"

"Sad."  To his trained ear, she sounded exhausted, but he knew part of
that was the anemia.  She asked, "Are you coming over?"

"Maybe.  Is Eden there?"

"Sure.  Eden!  Telephone."

He heard Eden in the background.  "Beth, I thought we agreed to let the
machine pick up calls.  I don't want to talk to any reporter--"

"It, s not a reporter.  It's Dr.  Coulter."

There was a rustle of movement, then a long pause.  "Eden?"

"Yes?"  She sounded as if he'd startled her.

"Are you all right?"  His grip tightened on the receiver.

"I've been better."  She gave a nervous laugh.  "Beth sounds anxious...
and exhausted."

"Right on both counts."  Eden glanced at her sister.  Beth's face, a
younger version of her own, was ghostly white and pinched with strain.
Her raven hair brushed her shoulders, limp and lackluster, and her
cornflower blue eyes looked sunken.

"Would you like me to come over?"  David asked, Eden's pulse quickened.
The memory of his gentle lovemaking sent delicious shudders through
her, and two seconds passed before she regained her composure.  She did
want to talk to him, but not under Valerie's watchful eye.  "That's
not... a good idea."

"Is Valerie home?"

Another long pause ensued.

"Eden, about our talk... where and when?"

"I'm not sure."  If only she could unload her conscience now, over the
phone.  Make him understand she hadn't really wished Peter would drop
dead, hadn't meant she'd orchestrate any such an action.  She wanted to
tell him what she'd decided after she'd left his house--before she'd
found out about Peter--and question him about Shannon, warn him that
the police might consider him a suspect.

The knot in her stomach tightened.  But just how wise was their meeting
somewhere?  What if the police were watching her at this very minute,
or having her followed, or tapping her telephone?

"Why not here?"  David sounded impatient at her silence.  "Tonight?"

Beth moved closer, her look of eagerness dissolving into one of
curiosity.  The palms of Eden's hands were damp, slick on the receiver
She turned away and lowered her voice.  "I just don't know."

"I'll be home all night."

Valerie walked into the kitchen.  Eden's uneasiness bounced with new
life.  "I have to go."

She hung up.  Beth asked, "Is he coming over?"  "He, who?"  Valerie
inquired.

Eden cringed, certain her sister would blurt out David's name, but
Beth's nurse, Ariel Bell, saved the moment.

"It's nearly eight-thirty, Beth."  Ariel was nearing her thirtieth
birthday but had the kind of face that would always look ten years
younger--not as much pretty as it was precious.  She wore her sandy
blond hair mid-length in an unkempt style, her large gray eyes barely
visible through a tangle of uneven bangs.  A hot-pink uniform pantsuit
accented her slender legs, hugged her voluptuous breasts.  "I've got
your bath ready."

Beth took a warm bath before bed each night.  She nodded at Ariel. "You
won't get any complaints from me tonight.  I'm beat."

The second Beth and Ariel were gone, Valerie turned back to Eden.  She
seemed about to pursue the "He, who?"  issue again, but the doorbell
rang.  Eden started.  Valerie jerked around, the phone conversation
forgotten.  Annoyance colored her pale cheeks, and a curse formed on
her pinched lips.  "If that's another reporter--"

The press had been relentless.  Valerie's nerves had to be as ragged as
her own.  Eden took a calming breath as the ringing became more
insistent.  "Maybe we should let it ring, Val."

"Humph."  Valerie spun on her heel and, taking long strides, headed for
the door.  Rolling her eyes, Eden followed her into the foyer.  Valerie
peered through the peephole.  "For the love of--it's that horrid
policeman again."

"Kollecki?"  Eden's stomach crawled into her throat.  What did he want
now?

Valerie yanked open the door and addressed the man in clipped tones.
"Detective.  Have you figured out who killed my brother yet?"  She
glanced over her shoulder at Eden.  "Or perhaps you've come to arrest
one of us?"  Eden held her temper and her tongue.  "Not yet, ma'am,"
Kollecki said.

Valerie's chin came up.  "Then what do you want?"

"We'd like to have a look around your house, if you wouldn't mind."

"Look around my--?  You mean search it?"  Incredulity rang in her
voice.  Valerie stepped back, her body as stiff as a pole.  "But Peter
wasn't killed here."

"Just the same..."  Kollecki's words had an oily quality, slick and
persistent.

A chill raced across Eden.  Once, when she was thirteen, someone had
broken into their apartment and gone through all the drawers, leaving
her feeling violated.  Even now, the thought of someone pawing through
her clothing appalled her, but what it would do to Beth was worse.  She
moved into the detective's view.  He nodded in greeting, but there was
nothing friendly in the hard set of his mouth.

She felt as if he were pushing her into a corner.  Irked, she lifted
her chin and returned his measured gaze.  "Do you have a search
warrant?"

"Do I need one?"  Kollecki asked evenly, but there was ice in his
tone.

Tension hung like a pall between them.

"Oh, really."  Valerie shook her head, lifting her hands in a
dismissive gesture.  "That isn't necessary, Eden."

"Yes, it is: This is my home, too, Val.  I don't want Beth upset
unnecessarily.  And strangers in the house digging through drawers and
cupboards will make her more anxious than she already is tonight."

Valerie shrugged, lifting her ginger-colored brows in concession.
"She's right, Detective.  Beths fragile and she's terribly anxious
today.  She's about to go to bed.  Perhaps you could come tomorrow?
That would give us time to prepare the poor dear."

Kollecki glanced at Eden, one brow arched as he awaited her answer to
this suggestion.  She sighed.  "All right.  Tomorrow morning.  But not
before ten."

"Have it your way."  A muscle twitched in his jaw, and the look in his
eyes sent a dagger of fear through Eden's heart.  Once again she saw
that he thought she had killed Peter and Shannon Sinalley.

The second Kollecki left, Eden fled to her bedroom.  But a hot bath did
nothing to ease her distress.  With pressure tightening her chest, she
donned jeans, a lightweight sweater and loafers, grabbed her keys,
and--vaguely noting Valerie's Mercedes was gone from the garage--got
behind the wheel of her minivan.

THE WOMAN PARKED her car one house away from David's.  Excitement and
anticipation heated her blood and filled her senses, almost blocking
out the aroma wafting from the sacks of Chinese takeout on the
passenger seat.  If the way to a man's heart was through his stomach,
David's heart was all but hers.  She'd bought his favorites.  Including
the cabernet he loved.

And one single red rose.  Red was for love.  And she did love David.

Poor man.  He'd been terribly upset today.  Not that she'd have
expected otherwise.  A smile parted her lips.  She'd caused his
distress; it was only fair she ease it.  Of course, he'd be glad to see
her.  He needed her comfort.

And with Shannon out of the way, he'd start seeing how much he needed
her love.  How much they belonged together.

For they did belong together.

They shared the same taste for many things.  Like combs.  She reached
into the glove box and lifted one free; it still contained strands of
his chocolate brown hair.  Precious strands.  She kissed the comb, then
set it back in the glove box beside the others she'd taken out of his
bathroom over the past two months.  Had he missed them?  Just in case,
she'd take something different tonight.

She reached for the sacks of food.  There remained a few minor
obstacles to overcome, but soon she'd have won David's love and secured
their future.  A happy sigh escaped her.  They were going to have the
most beautiful children together.  Lots of children.

She gripped the door handle, glanced toward his house and froze.  F.
xlen was knocking on David's door.  With shock and disbelief, the woman
watched David open the door, watched him pull Eden into his arms.

Stunned, the woman flopped back against the seat.  What was going on?
When had she started making moves on David?  She'd only lost her
husband last night.  Anger, red and hot as lava, spurted through the
woman's veins.

Has this been going on for a while now?  Right under my nose?  She
could think of no other explanation.  Her sob of outrage and pain
resounded inside the car.  Another adversary.  She dropped the sacks of
food to the seat beside the bottle of wine, smashing the rose as flat
as her hopes.

But her depression was short-lived.  She spotted Eden's minivan across
the street, and an idea struck her.

An idea with great potential.  Her confidence surged with new energy.
She was getting quite expert at annihilating her competition for
David's affection.  The woman got out of the car and went around to her
trunk.  Eden was all but gone.

Chapter Four

David ushered Eden into his kitchen.  It was a square shaped room with
a center island that held the stove and sink on one side and an eating
counter opposite.  Black and white tiles checkered the floor and
countertops, softened by the white appliances and warmed by the
chili-pepper red bar stools, miniblinds and hanging light fixtures.

Eden scrambled onto one of the stools.  "Something smells wonderful."

"Heating cinnamon rolls and fresh Starbucks coffee."  David could feel
the tension issuing from her, and before he brought up the murders, he
wanted to put her at ease.  "The rolls will be ready soon.  Coffee?"

Eden nodded.  He poured them each a cup and slid onto the bar stool
beside hers, leaning his elbow on the counter.

She reached for the mug.  "Do you serve hot cinnamon rolls to all your
guests?"

"I find an occasional shot of sugar is good for the soul."  Grinning
wryly, he gazed into her eyes, and the memory of their lovemaking swept
through his head, a whispery shadow on the edges of his mind, teasing
him,

haunting him, stirring renewed need.  "I'm glad you changed your mind
about coming over."

Eden took a gulp of coffee and set the mug down shakily.  "Kollecki
changed my mind."

David straightened in his seat but checked the alarm he felt before it
could reveal itself in his expression.  "How did he do that?"

"He showed up shortly after we spoke."

"Why?"  David sipped his coffee.  "What did he want?"

"To search the house."  She gazed up at him.  "He thinks I killed
Shannon Sinalley and Peter."

"No."  Heating his greatest fear put into words sent a bolt of panic
through David.  "I hoped after I took him the rose, he'd--"

"The rose?"

"Let's take our coffee into the living room and get comfortable."  He
stood.  "We have some information to share."

Eden lurched off the stool.  Her heel caught in the rung, and she
pitched against David, her nose coming to rest inches from his solid
chest.  She drew a quavery breath, pulling in the clean smell of him.
His heart was thudding against her palms.

Slowly she lifted her gaze and found herself staring into his moss
green eyes.  Blood burned through her veins, speeding heat to every
pore, to every sensitive nerve ending.

Levering the heels of her hands against his flat, muscled midriff, she
attempted to tight herself," but she couldn't pull loose from the
smoldering look in David's eyes.  He grasped her elbows and drew her up
and against him, his head lowering until his mouth hovered a breath
away from hers.

"Oh, David, I'm so scared."

"I know, my love."  He claimed her mouth in a kiss that was fierce and
feverish and feral, the kiss of a man who had finally found the woman
he'd longed for, a kiss that curled tendrils of pleasure through Eden
and stole the fear from her thoughts.

The smoke alarm bleated.  They jerked apart.  Smoke stole from the
closed oven door.

David shouted, "The rolls!"

Eden tossed him an oven mitt and stood back as he threw open the oven
door.  Smoke billowed out and into the room, racing toward the ceiling.
David extracted the cookie sheet and deposited it in the sink.  The
thick, gooey rolls he had put in the oven were now small, blackened
pinwheels.

Laughing for the first time in days, Eden yelled above the alarm, "I
think you'd better stick to psychiatry."

Also laughing, David turned off the oven and opened the window.  "As
opposed to being an arsonist?"

"Being a chef."  She ran cold water over the cookie sheet, sending a
curtain of steam to join the smoke near the ceiling.

David deactivated the annoying alarm, then stepped behind her and
kissed the nape of her neck.  "How about if I stick to being your
lover?"

Eden spun slowly.in his arms.  "Now, there's a plan."  She pulled his
head to hers, and their lips met, tentatively, then with confidence and
need.  David lifted her and carried her to his bed.  The room was like
David, soft greens and browns, with a rumpled kind of warmth and an
innate cleanliness.

His pillows smelled of his spicy after-shave, and the moment he joined
her on the bed, Eden was lost in the joy of his touch, in the joy of
touching.  This time there was no hurry to their lovemaking, but a
languid exploring, a sweet acquainting of bodies, a honeyed pleasuring
a release of feelings long denied.

Afterward David rolled to his side and pulled Eden against him.  "I
wish we could stay like this forever."

"I do, too."  Eden's body felt aglow, the sensation new and prized. She
prop peA herself on one elbow and gazed into David's eyes.  "But I
think Kollecki has a different agenda in mind for me."

A slight trembling stole over her, and she couldn't hide the
apprehension from him.  David scooted up against the headboard and
dragged the sheet over them.  "Kollecki is one of the things I wanted
to discuss."

Eden sat up and hugged her knees, glancing sideways at him.  "Do you
know a good lawyer?  Jacoby and Otterman, Peter's lawyers, are
corporate attorneys.  I need a criminal lawyer."

David wanted to protest, to declare she needed no such thing, but he
knew better.  Kollecki could be ruthless in the pursuit of justice and
if he decided she was the murderer, she'd better have the best legal
counsel she could hire.  "I don't know any personally, but tomorrow
I'll make some discreet inquiries.  Eden, tell me everything you know
about Peter and Shannon's murders."

"Why?"  She looked affronted, as if he were questioning her
innocence.

Deep down, David knew he was.  He'd misjudged people before, trusted
when he shouldn't have.  As much as he wanted to believe Eden, the only
way to silence the niggling doubts was to hear the truth.  He reached
up and gently grazed his knuckles along her jawline.  "Because if this
lawyer is going to get you off, he needs all the information related'
to the case, not just Kollecki's version."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything that happened the day of the murders.  Anything else that
seems pertinent.  I have a few things to tell you, too."  He could see
her trust in him return.  He wished his own trust was as solid.  She
told him every detail she could recall leading up to Peter's storming
out of the house, the few things she'd gleaned from the detectives and
finally what she'd overheard about Shannon and him.

In turn David related the facts of Marianne De-Paul's case as he knew
them, as much as he could recall about Rose Hatcher--including a
physical description-and finally about the rose left for him that
morning.

Her eyes rounded at this last, and she stiffened.  "But if you're
right, you could be in danger."

Realization slammed into David.  "Dear God, if I'm right, you're the
one in danger."

The color left Eden's face, and she clenched her hands together as if
to keep them from trembling.  "The police or a killer... How did my
life come to this awful place?"

David reached for the bedside phone and began dialing.  "I'm telling
Kollecki about us.  He can have you guarded around the dock."

"No!"  Eden lunged across David and aborted the call.  ""Us' only makes
me look more guilty.  Kollecki won't believe anyone is after me.  Even
if he did, he doesn't have the manpower to offer me protection."

He lurched off the bed and began dressing.  "Then I'll hire you a
bodyguard."

"And how would that look to Kollecki?"  Eden donned her underwear and
tugged on her jeans.  "I can hire my own bodyguard."

David stood.  "TII get the phone book.  You can call now."  '

"David, I appreciate your desire to protect me, but nothing is going to
happen to me between here and Issaquah.  I'll call from home."  She
pulled her sweater over her head and glanced at the digital clock on
the nightstand.  "Speaking of which, I'd better get back before Valerie
realizes I'm gone and does something dumb."

At the foyer, she stopped David from going outside with her.  "Except
where Beth is concerned, we can't be seen together until this case is
solved."

David knew she was right.  "But I'm going to walk you to your van."

"No.  Even that could be dangerous.  I didn't catch anyone following me
from home, but I wouldn't put it past Kollecki to have a tail on me."

David shuddered inwardly.  If the rose had any significance, they had
more to worry about than Kollecki.  The fear of losing Eden overwhelmed
him.  "I don't want to let you go."

"I don't want to go, but I must."

She kissed him goodbye before he opened the door, and insisted he turn
off the foyer light and leave the porch light off.  She stepped
gingerly outside, reassured that David watched from the open doorway.

As she hurried across the street to the van, she scanned the road for
any vehicle that seemed occupied or out of place.  Nothing untoward
caught her eye.  It seemed like any other peaceful Northwest
neighborhood on a cool July night.

Breathing easier, she slid the key into the lock.  Alarm chilled her.
The door was not locked.  Her heart picked up speed.  She yanked open
the door.  The interior light blinked on, glaringly bright in her fear.
Hating its prolonged exposure of her, she checked behind the back seat
and into the rear recesses of the van.  No one lurked inside.  Nothing
seemed amiss.  Her breath sputtered out.

She plopped into the driver's seat and hit her door latch.  Hadn't she
locked the van when she'd arrived?  It was something she did
automatically.  Had she been that upset by Kollecki that she'd
forgotten?  That anxious to see David again?

Recalling that he was watching from his doorway and probably wondering
what was causing the delay in her departure, she willed herself to be
calm.  She shoved the key in the ignition.  Would loving David cost her
her life?  It was a gruesome thought.  "She turned the key.  The engine
revved.

Eden spent anxious minutes reaching the Issaquah Plateau, constantly
searching the rearview mirror for signs that someone was following. The
tension gripping her eased as she pulled into her housing development. 
Then she spotted her house.  She'd expected everyone would be in bed,
the house dark.  Instead, every light in the place burned brightly.

A patrol car and an unmarked car she recognized as Kollecki's were
parked out front.  Fear dampened her palms and prickled her scalp.  She
parked in the garage and locked the van, double-checking to be certain
before heading into the house.

In the kitchen, Valerie, Beth and Ariel were seated at the table.  All
were white-faced and anxious.  Valerie explained, "They came back...
with a warrant."

"Pulled Beth right out of a sound sleep.  Not so much as an "I'm
sorry," either," Ariel complained.  "I'm not used to working under
these conditions.  It's not good for my patient."

"It's not good for any of us, Ariel," Eden assured the nurse.  "Are you
okay, Beth?"

Beth nodded but she looked more pale than usual.  Kollecki had some
explaining to do.  Dropping her keys into her purse, Eden searched for
and found him in her bedroom.  Dresser drawers hung open, clothing,
intimate apparel and all, trailing over the edges like loose stuffing
pulled from a chair, her worst nightmare come true.  She tamped down
her anger, but her words came out clipped.  "You promised you'd wait
until tomorrow."

"I promised no such thing."

She started to protest and realized the futility of it.  He hadn't said
he'd wait; he'd said, "Have it your way," which apparently meant that
he'd objected to her resistance and decided to have it his way.  But
what did they expect to find?

She returned to the kitchen, poured herself some coffee, then strode to
the table.  As she was about to sit, Ariel reached out and grabbed at
something that had apparently stuck to the seat of her jeans.  "What's
this?"

Eden frowned at the small white object Ariel held, half expecting it to
be a feather from David's down comforter, but the shape and texture
were wrong, Valerie said, "Looks like part of a flower."  Ariel brought
it to her nose.  "Rose petal."

A chill shot through Eden.  She dropped into the chair, sloshing coffee
onto the tabletop.

"What's wrong, Eden?"  Beth's eyes rounded in alarm.

Eden realized she was scaring her sister even more than the police
were.  She forced a placid expression onto her face.  "Nothing, hon.
Don't worry.  This is just routine in a murder investigation.  They'll
be gone soon, and everything will be back to normal."

Beth seemed to take some comfort in the explanation.  Eden wished she
could, but her mind was racing.  How had a white rose petal gotten
stuck to her jeans?  Had she picked it up from David's house?  Or from
her van?

"Just where have you been the past few hours, Eden?"  Valerie
inquired.

Eden flushed, remembering.  "I was driving."  Kollecki strolled into
the kitchen.  "Seems you have a propensity for driving.  Haven't you
heard about conserving gas?"

Before Eden could respond to that, a uniformed policeman rushed in from
the garage.  He was young and excited and clutched a long, slender tool
that looked like something used to open locked cars.  Eden's skin
prickled.

The young man addressed Kollecki.  "I was just coming to get you, sir.
You'll want to see this."

As they headed back into the garage, Eden noticed 'her van door was
open and that another uniformed policeman was standing near it.  Her
heart jumped to an explosive beat.  She lurched to her feet and hurried
into the garage behind Kollecki.

He bent down, craned his neck sideways, tugged a pencil from his
pocket, poked it beneath the driver's seat and lifted something out.

"What is it?"  Her voice was a breathless rasp.  Kollecki stretched to
his full height and held out the object so she could see it.  A gun.
"I'm betting we just found the murder weapon."

Chapter Five

Six weeks later

In the privacy of her bedroom, the woman laid the Seattle times on her
dresser drawer and read the frontpage article with relish.  Six
wonderful weeks ago, Eden Prescott had been arrested.  The paper
crinkled as the woman folded it to an inside page.  It did her heart
good to' picture Eden sitting in a dingy jail cell.  No bail for her.

She'd been charged and arraigned for first-degree murder.  Satisfaction
wound through the woman.  If all went as it should, prosecutors would'
seek the death penalty.

Talk about fifteen minutes of fame.  Eden had gotten more than her due
so far.  The media had fed on the story like a frenzy of bloodthirsty
sharks.  It was all anyone talked about lately, and everyone had the
same opinion: Eden Prescott was guilty as sin.

The woman laughed gleefully.  Control.  That was where the power was.
Men knew it.  Learned it before kindergarten, she suspected.  Well,
she'd learned it now.  "Oh, yeah.  I am a force to be reckoned with."

The woman glanced up from the paper and across to the brass-framed
photograph of David.  She jammed her hand through her hair as a sigh
rushed from that tiny part of her that felt sorry for him: He was so
obviously distressed about Eden.  The woman laughed again.  Bitterly
this time.  Mostly David deserved every agonizing minute that he
suffered; it was just payment for his involvement with that Jezebel.

He'd even found her a high-clout lawyer--some guy from Arizona whom the
press likened to a young Gerry Spence with his fringed buckskin jacket
and black shirts.  Seemed he was as clever as Mr.  Spence, too.

A tiny worry threatened to push past her confidence.  She shoved it
away.  Clever or not, that lawyer wasn't going to get the case thrown
out at the evidentiary hearing tomorrow.  The evidence was too
strong.

The woman reached into the vase of white roses behind David's
photograph, drew one out and inhaled its delicate fragrance.  Not only
had the police found the murder weapon in Eden's possession, but--as
luck would have it--her fingerprints were also on the gun.

"D,a, tMrr KOLLECKI, I don't care if you did find the murder weapon in
Eden's van!"  David's throat constricted at the anger and frustration
boiling inside him.  "The damned thing belongs to Valerie!  Eden and
she have lived in the same house for seven years.  She could have
touched that gun any time during those years.  You have no way of
telling how old fingerprints are."

"Calm down, Dr.  Coulter."  Kollecki looked up from his position behind
his desk, his dark eyes narrowed like those of a coiled snake.  "Or
this meeting is over."

"How am I supposed to calm down when someone keeps leaving these on my
doorstep?"  With his chest heaving as it did after a five-mile jog,
David slapped another Ziploc bag--with yet another rose inside--down
onto Kollecki's desk.  Just looking at it filled his gut with icy fear.
His first instinct had been to grind it to a pulp, but then he'd
realized the significance of it.  "This was on my doorstep this
morning."

Kollecki's tense demeanor relaxed a modicum.  He contemplated the rose,
then eyed David with suspicion.  "What's that make--two now?"

"Yes!"  Was Kollecki finally getting it?

"So what?  No one died this time."

Impotent rage cracked like a whip inside David.  "You're not a stupid
man."  He struggled to control his temper, but his voice rose an
octave.  "Why do you refuse to see the significance of this?  The
killer thinks she's eliminated Eden as effectively as if she'd murdered
her."

The expression on Kollecki's face reminded David of one he'd often
given to overwrought patients.  It jarred him to his toes.  If he
didn't calm down, Kollecki would listen to nothing he had to say.  But
he hadn't had a calm bone in his body since the day Eden had been
arrested.

Kollecki angled back in his chair, evidently taking David's momentary
silence as an attempt at composure.

"Contrary to some of the crap you see on TV or read in books, Doctor,
we don't arrest people without due cause."  Kollecki planted his elbows
on his desk and began ticking off points with his fingers.  "First
there was the divorce, which legally--thanks to the prenuptial
agreement she signed--would leave Mrs.  Prescott without much more than
the few dollars she had coming into the marriage."

"Eden doesn't care about money."

"Maybe not for herself.  But Prescott was dropping her sister and her
from his medical-insurance policy, and we both know that meant her
sister would not be able to pay for the kidney transplant she so
desperately

David swallowed over the lump in his throat.  "Second, Valerie Prescott
reported her gun missing three weeks before the murders.  Someone in
that house had to have taken it.  Third--"

"You didn't even read the report she filed about the gun, did you?"

Kollecki puffed out his cheeks.

David thumped his desk.  "If you had, you'd know the gun was stolen
from her car.  With the news full of car-jackings, Valerie started
carrying it in her Mercedes' glove box.  She bragged to everyone about
it, including my office staff.  Anyone could have taken it:"

Kollecki didn't even blink.  "Third, Mrs, Prescott cannot account for
her whereabouts at the crucial time.  Motive, means and opportunity.
She did it."

"No.  She didn't," David said in a voice as tight as his hands at his
sides.  Heat climbed his neck.  "I can ac count for her whereabouts at
the crucial time."  Kollecki sighed impatiently.  "I'm listening." 
"She was with me until after nine o'clock."

"Nine o'clock, huh?"  The detective steepled his fingertips.  "That's
interesting.  You live on Mercer Island, right?"

David nodded.

"And Smalley and Prescott were killed at her house--which is what? Max,
some twenty, twenty-five minutes away?"  Kollecki smirked.  "More than
enough time to drive from your place to the murder scene."

David dropped into the chair across from Kollecki.  He was getting
nowhere.  He had always known it was physically possible for Eden to
have committed the crime, had even struggled with doubts over her
guilt, but dammit, she couldn't have left the roses.  Especially the
second one--she was in jail.  And the roses had to mean something.

But shouting would never convince Kollecki of what David knew deep down
inside: no matter what the evidence was, no matter how strong Eden's
motives were, she could not kill another human being.  He took several
deep breaths, reaching into that Part of himself where he'd stowed his
ability to reason in a calm and forthright manner.  At length he said,
"Kollecki, how can I convince you that Eden isn't the kind of person
who commits murder?"

Kollecki's eyes held pity.  "Do you realize, Doctor, you said the exact
same thing about Rose Hatcher?"

Almost word for word, David recalled, feeling sick to his stomach.  Was
he wrong about Eden as he had been about Rose Hatcher?  He considered
Detective Tagg's suggestion about a copycat killer.  Was there one?  Or
was Rose Hatcher actually innocent?  Would an innocent woman confess to
murder?  He gripped the arms of the chair with whitened knuckles.

"It was a nice try, Doe."

David glanced sharply at Kollecki.  "What?"

"You know... the roses.  Trying to raise reasonable doubt for your
girlfriend."

David shook his head.  "No,

"It wouldn't have worked.  She did

No.  The word died in his throaL Why waste the breath?  Kollecki's mind
was set as hard as concrete.  Hell, he pities me.  Well, I don't need
his damned pity.

He bit down his anger.  Maybe he could make use of Kollecki's pity.
"Can you arrange for me to see Eden?"

The detective pressed his lips together, considering.  David heard his
own breath, noisy in the heavy silence.

"It wasn't that tough a question, Kollecki."

"Why don't you cut your losses?"

David's temper rose another notch.  "Today."  "Maybe after the 3.5
hearing."

David guessed a 3.5 hearing was the evidentiary hearing that was set
for the following day at the King County Courthouse in downtown
Seattle.  He intended to be present while lawyers for both' sides
argued the evidence in this case.  Worry nagged him.  Would the judge
decide there was enough hard evidence to go to trial?

"That's tomorrow.  Why make me wait another day?"

"The hearing was rescheduled for this morning."  "What?"  David started
up from the chair.  "When?"  "You'll never make it, Doe.  It started
two hours ago.  Probably over."  Kollecki gestured to someone who was
apparently standing outside his office peering in through the windowed
door, waiting to enter.  "In fact, it must be."

David shifted around as Detective Tagg entered the office, leaving the
door agape.  He was dressed in a suit and tie and wore a dejected look
on his narrow features.  Had Tagg been to the hearing in Seattle?
Kolleeki frowned.  "What's the matter?"

"You aren't going to like it.  The judge threw out our case against the
Prescott woman."

David's heart leapt into his throat.  Did that mean what it sounded
like it meant?

"No!"  Kollecki was on his feet.  "Not because--"

"Yep."

"Damned rookie!"  Kollecki slammed his fist on the desk.  His face was
as red as his hair.  He glared at David.  "Looks like you'll be able to
see your girlfriend at home this afternoon."

David was too stunned to do anything but stare back.  Kollecki stormed
out of the room.  David staggered to his feet, afraid to hope he was
hearing right.  "Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on?  Is
Eden free?"

"Yes."  Tagg sighed.  "The judge ruled her Fourth Amendment rights were
violated in the procurement of the gun ."  '

Free.  Eden was free.  He was afraid to believe it.  "But you had a
search warrant--how were her rights violated?"

Tagg loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt.  "We found
the gun under the driver's seat of her van, but because the van was
locked, we had no right to enter it without permission from her -
unless the warrant so stated, which it didn't."

Kollecki returned, his face still an unhealthy crimson.  "In other
words, since the gun is the primary evidence linking Mrs.  Prescott to
the crime, and since it was procured in an illegal manner, it cannot be
used as evidence against her."

"Accordingly all charges were dropped."  Tagg's bushy gray eyebrows
twitched as he noticed the rose for the first time.  He glanced
questioningly at his partner, then back at David.  But neither
satisfied his unspoken curiosity.

David felt as if the weight of the world had been wrenched from him.
Joy ran through his veins, sang in his ears.  He all but shouted, "I
told you she was innocent."

Kollecki's eyes narrowed into thin black slits.  "Don't misunderstand,
Doctor.  Mrs.  Prescott hasn't been found innocent.  There's no statute
of limitations on murder.  When we discover new evidence, she can and
will be arrested and charged again."

"There's no evidence to find, Kollecki.  Why don't you follow up on the
roses?"

"Roses?  Plural?"  Tagg stepped to the desk and grasped the Ziploc bag.
The rose inside was not crushed as the other had been, He gazed at
David.

"Yes," David confirmed.  "A second one.  I found it this morning. While
Mrs.  Prescott was in custody."  "What's it mean?"  Tagg asked his
partner.  Kollecki scowled at David.  "Nothing."

David growled in frustration.  Kollecki had convinced himself Eden was
guilty, and that was that.  He would stick to this case like a hound
after a rabbit, never believing he was on the wrong scent.  "You're
making a grave mistake, Kollecki."

David started toward the door, hesitated and glanced at the more
reasonable Tagg.  "You've got an open mind.  Try and talk some sense
into your partner... before another innocent woman is murdered."

With that, he left.

At long last, she was free.  But his admonition to the detectives
haunted him.  Eden was the innocent woman he was worried about.  With
the police determined to see her as the killer instead of a possible
next victim, she was in dire jeopardy.  Somehow he had to discover who
was leaving the roses.

But first he had to warn Eden.

EDEN LOWERED her weary body into the bubble-filled bathtub.  She
breathed in the sweet-scented steam rising from the water, relishing
the privacy of her own bathroom, a privacy she thought she'd never know
again.

She had arrived home to news cars and tracks--bearing logos from local
and national newspaper, radio and television stations--camped in front
of the house.  The second she stepped from her attorney's car,
reporters besieged her.  The lawyer hustled her through the maze,
spouting something about him client being innocent and the judge having
the good sense to uphold justice.

Justice?  Eden almost laughed.  But the situation wasn't funny.  The
stress of this ordeal showed in Beth's drawn face and her weakened
condition.  How much more could she take?  Ariel had confided that her
condition was worsening, that Beth was running out of veins for the
dialysis.  If a donor wasn't found sOon... No.  She would not think
negatively.  She was free.  She ought to be celebrating.  That did pull
a laugh from her.  Celebrating indeed.  She'd run straight in here and
heaved up the small amount of food she'd managed to get down this
morning.  Oddly her stomach was still upset, an awful queasiness akin
to the nauseous sensation she felt whenever she attempted boating.

In some distant recess of the house, she could hear the telephone
ringing.  The answering machine would pick it up.  She didn't care who
it was--maybe "Hard Copy" or "Inside Edition" again.  As if she'd talk
to any of those people.  She reached for the bath sponge, lathered it
with perfumed soap and, starting with her feet, scrubbed with all her
might.

The media had already tried and convicted her, smug in their
predictions of the verdict.  They hadn't gotten the outcome they'd
wanted.  Neither had she.  Pulling in a deep breath, she sank
completely beneath the water's surface.  The silence was as blessed as
if she'd stepped into a world free of chaos, as if she were sheathed in
a warm cocoon.

But as she emerged and took in a gulp of air, reality wrapped her in
its chilly cloak.  She was innocent, but the judge hadn't verified that
innocence.  He'd condemned her to being thought of forever as a
murderer.

She turned on the faucet, dipped her head under the clear water, rinsed
the soap from her hair, then shut off the faucet and scraped the
dripping hair back from her eyes.  What was she going to do?  How could
she go on in this community, this state, being scorned, gossiped about,
stared at, thought guilty of the heinous crime of double murder?

She rested her head against the bath pillow and stared at the
burgundy-and-gray mosaic design on the tile above the faucets.  Who had
murdered Peter and Shannon?  Who had planted the gun in her van?  Cold
fear landed like a chunk of ice in her unsettled stomach.  She closed
her eyes and swallowed hard to keep the nausea at bay.

She'd had six long weeks to think about who was the real killer.  Time
and again, these deliberations brought Valerie to mind.  The gun was
hers.  Planting it in the van would have been easy for Val.  But why
would she kill Peter, the brother she loved to distraction?

Eden blew out a wobbly breath.  Just how mentally stable was Val?  Why
had David counseled her?  Had it had something to do with Peter?  Eden
considered.  Val's love for her brother had been a bit overboard.  And
unrequited.  By falling in love with Shannon, Peter had once again
rejected val.  Had that been enough to send her over the brink of
sanity?

Eden set the songe aside.  That such a thought could even occur to her
meant that Beth and she had to leave this house.  But where could they
go?  Out of this town.  This state.  She sat straighter in the tub,
feeling suddenly as trapped as if she were once again behind bars.  The
transplant.  Beth lad to be near the hospital in case a kidney became
available.

Until then, she was trapped.

But the first mo met after surgery that Beth was well enough to travel,
they would disappear, even change their names.

What about David?

The thought hit her like a blow to the chest, an ache so strong it felt
as if a hole the size of a fist had pierced her heart.  She whispered,
"Oh, David.  I do love you."  And right now she oeeded him so.

The soft sound of the bedroom door opening and closing reached through
the open bathroom door, startling Eden out of her reverie.  She jumped.
Water sloshed the edges of the tub.  Goose bumps lifted on her warm
skin.  She'd given Valerie, Ariel and Beth strict instructions not to
disturb her.  No matter what.

Had one of them ignored her orders?  Or had some enterprising reporter
breached their security?  Then again, maybe it was the killer.  Once
more her suspicion of Valerie loomed.  Fear climbed into her throat.
Her gaze riveted on the half-open bathroom door, she reached for a
towel aod started to stand.

"Eden, it's me.  David."

Relief flooded throtgh her, bringing the first pleasant quickening of
her heart in weeks.  She'd never been so glad to hear someone's voice.
She stepped onto the bath mat and wrapped the huge towel around
herself, calling out, "Give me a couple of minutes."

Quickly she dried and dressed in a silk pantsuit, then began combing
her hair.  It needed cutting.  She blanched at the thought of calling
Cher6 for an appointment.  With a sinking heart, Eden realized there
was probably not a salon in town she could patronize without being
recognized.

Anger flared inside her, burn' rag away all the self-pity she'd been
feeling.  Damreit.  She was innocent.  There had to be some way of
proving it.  But every possible course of action that occurred to her
as she smoothed on lipstick seemed dangerous and foolhardy.

If there were only herself to consider, she might try to draw her
nemesis out into the open.  But she couldn't put Beth at risk.  Or
David.  The only thing that made any sense was to reiterate David's and
her decision not to see one another anymore.

With a heavy heart, she left the bathroom.  David, in white Dockers and
a royal blue polo shirt, was a breath of fresh air in this room that
reflected Peter's brooding personality and stilted tastes.  He stood
beside the dark pine dresser gazing at the framed photograph displayed
there--a gathering of the Montgomery clan when she was still a child.
It was all that remained of her family besides Beth and herself.

"Hello, David."  Despite her mind-set, she wanted to run to him and
throw her arms around him and lose herself in the security of his
embrace.  Instead, she strode to the chaise longue and laid her hands
on its arched back.

He lurched around, a jerky, nervous movement.  He looked as tired as
she felt.  Then he smiled, and a joyful light filled his eyes.  "It's
so wonderful to see you here instead..."

The sentence trailed off, and she knew he'd been about to add instead
of in jail.  She shifted from one foot to the other.  "I was going to
call you.  To thank you... for the lawyer."

He made no move toward her, but she could see he wanted to.  "I tried
calling, but you weren't answering your phone.  We have to talk."

Eden was too aware of where they were, of the others in the house.
"Does Valerie know you're in my bedroom?"

He smirked.  "She's not happy about it, but I in-sis teA

Eden winced, imagining the silent rage she would suffer from Valerie
later.

"I figured this was the only way we'd have complete privacy."  David
took three steps toward her, then halted abruptly, as if held back by
an invisible restraint.  "I've just come from Kollecki's office."

"Oh?"  Inexplicably she shivered.

"I found another white rose on my doorstep this morning.,

Eden grasp el the back of the chaise, its wine red brocade fabric
feeling icy beneath her taut fingers.  "I don't understand.  Who is
sending them to you?  And why?"

"I have a theory as to why I received this one, if you'd like to hear
it."

"Please."  She glanced down.  A thread had pulled loose at the seam of
the chaise, unraveling as her life seemed to be unraveling.

David ached to rush to her and fold her against him, but it would be
madness.  Fatal, even.  Swallowing over the lump in his throat that he
suspected might be his breaking heart, he watched Eden pick at the
loose thread.  She'd had enough pain the past six weeks to bring down
the hardiest soul.  She had to be on the edge of coming apart.  It made
what he had to say so much harder.  He kept his voice gentle as he
explained his theory of the woman thinking she'd gotten rid of Eden by
framing her.

"What did Kolleki say about that?"

David shook his head.  "He isn't taking the roses seriously."

Eden searched for the truth on David's face.  "He's going to keep after
me, isn't he?"  Of course he was.  Why should that surprise her?  And
yet somehow it did.  Desperation and fear tangled inside her.  And
she'd been thinking the largest concern she faced in the days ahead was
public scorn.  "You believe Peter died because he was in the wrong
place at the wrong tune?"

"Yes.  The roses confirm for me that Shannon was the real target.  I
think they were both killed because some woman thought Shannon and I
were romantically involved."  David took another step toward her.
"That's why you have to stay as far away from me as possible."

His words hit her like tiny sharp stones.  But hadn't she been going to
say the same thing to him?  Then why did it hurt so?  She shoved away
from the chaise and walked past him to the window.  But she dared not
look out.  She turned and strode back to where he stood beside the
four-poster bed.  "Do you have any idea who this woman is?"

He thought again of Rose Hatcher.  No.  She was tucked safely away in
Purdy, the state prison for women.  "No clue."

A sob climbed Eden's throat.  "This is awful.  We don't even know: who
we're afraid of."

David moved closer.  It was tearing him apart not to hold her.  But he
knew he wouldn't be able to walk out of here if he gave in to the
potent urge.  "Whoever she is, she needs help."

"David, are you sure you're not in danger?"  Eden jammed her hands
against her temples.  Her head ached as if it might explode.  "So much
has happened to me in the past six weeks that I can't even sort out my
feelings about most of it.  But the one thing I'm very clear on is that
I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I'll be fine.  Ducking the dangers of obsessive disorders is something
psychiatrists learn to deal with.  Besides, obsessives usually follow a
pattern."  His tone was reassuring, but passion burned in his
eyes--anger or frustration, perhaps both.  "And her pattern seems to be
eradicating the women from my life who she thinks are close to me.  So
it's damned likely she'll keep coming after you until she finishes what
she started.  You have to stay the hell away from me."

Eden knew she should be afraid.  Deathly afraid.  But she felt as if
her heart were bleeding, pricked by the thorns of the white roses.  She
asked quietly, "Will this be forever?"

"No!"  He closed the gap between them.  "Only until she's caught."

His familiar, beloved scent reached into Eden, and she nearly took the
single step that would bring them together.  But she held herself
rigid.  "What if she's never caught?"

"She will be.  No matter what it takes, I will unmask her."  '

The loathing in his voice surprised Eden.  It was unlike him to express
as much as an unkind thought about someone he considered ill.  Her
voice broke as she said, "I'll never forget what we had, David."

"It's not over, Eden."  He caressed her cheek with his knuckles.." Just
on hold."

But it was over.  She knew it.  Her stomach clenched, and her knees
wobbled.

The bedroom door banged open.  David and Eden started as if they'd been
caught in bed instead of standing beside it.  Valerie stood there,
glaring at them.  "Forgive my intrusion on your tender reunion."

Eden stepped around David, glad to have someone to vent her bottled-up
frustrations on.  "How dare you barge in here without knocking?

Valerie looked affronted and hurt.  "You're so ungrateful, Eden.  I
thought you'd want to know immediately.  Beth's pager just went off.
The hospital has a donor."

Chapter Six

Eden's pulse leapt, her anger at Valerie's intrusion fleeing on the
wings of this wonderful news.  "Is Ariel getting Beth ready to
leave?"

"No."  Valerie was suddenly flustered.  "She doesn't even know about it
yet.  She had some errands that needed tending to, so I told her you
and I would watch over Beth while she was out.  I suppose we could
leave her a note."

Valerie sounded as if she intended on going to the hospital; Eden
wasn't certain she could deal with her in light of the suspicions she
harbored.  But how did she tell her without making an issue of it?

As if he sensed her dilemma, David said, "It isn't necessary for you to
come to the hospital, Valerie.  We won't know for a while whether or
not there will even be any surgery."

It was amazing, Eden mused, how he kept being there for her.  Then
again, she supposed it shouldn't surprise her.  His thoughtfulness had
caused her to take her first good look at him six months ago, and was
now only one of his many qualities she adored.  But dwelling on her
feelings for David would only break her heart.

Returning her attention to the situation, she realized Valerie was not
convinced.  Eden took a firmer stand.  "I'll call you as soon as we
know one way or the other."

Valerie's lips pinched, and her eyes glistened with anger.  She opened
her mouth, presumably to object, but Beth appeared in the doorway.
"Eden, can you get my suitcase?  Stupid thing feels like it weighs a
ton."

Beth's complexion had a greenish gray cast, and her eyes held a mixture
of relief and apprehension.  Eden patted her arm reassuringly.  "Of
course.  I'll meet you in the garage."

Eden brushed past Valerie and left the room.  As she started down the
hall, she heard Beth say, "You're coming with me, aren't you, Dr.
Coulter?"

Despite his insistence that they avoid one another at all costs, Eden
knew David would not abandon any patient in need.  But as glad as she
was at the prospect of not facing this alone, a part of her feared the
killer would see them together and make wrong assumptions.

By the time she joined Beth and David in the kitchen, she felt her
nerves fraying.  Valerie hovered in a corner, resentment stark in her
deep-set eyes.  Was she only angry at being excluded?  Or was she the
woman they both feared?  The thought swept over Eden like a chilly
breed.  Val's love for her brother had been like that of an overly
possessive mother.  Did she love David in a different, yet similarly
possessive way?

If I'm right, Eden realized, the killer is here in this room with us,
already watching, already making wrong assumptions, perhaps already
plotting my demise.

She set Beth's suitcase on the floor and pulled her key ring from her
purse.  It slipped from her trembling hand, falling to the floor with a
jarring jangle.

At the same moment, David and she scrambled after the keys, their hands
reaching out, their fingers colliding and their gazes meeting and
holding.  The warmth of his touch stirred a deep hunger in Eden.

"Hey, you two, can we get a move on?"  Beth groused.

The blunt reminder that they were not alone heated Eden's cheeks.  She
straightened, leaving the keys to David.  He said, "I'll drive."

"Thank you."  She gave him a grateful smile, then she grimaced and
hugged Beth around the shoulders.  "I'm so excited for you, I've got
the heebie-jeebies."

"I know what you mean."  Beth's laugh held no strength and quickly died
as Eden steered her to the garage.

Eden wished she could drive away from this house that held only
unhappiness and fear for her now and never return.  But she didn't want
Beth sensing this negative mood.

She forced gaiety into her voice, spouting small talk to occupy Beth's
mind, to stave off her own concerns that started with her sister's
well-being and ended with a murderer.

Her stomach was still unsettled, but she noticed her gaiety wasn't all
put on.  Hope, she real'l, was giving her a buoyant feeling.  Hope, and
David's presence and support.  She helped Beth into the front passenger
seat, then slid onto the bench seat behind David.

The moment the garage door began opening, they heard it--a swelling
buzz of noise like a swarm of bees gearing up for attack.  The
reporters and camera people converged over the concrete driveway
without heed that the van was rolling toward them.  David honked the
horn and kept backing out of the garage.  Shouted questions reached
inside the van, but the trespassers seemed to get the message that he
was not going to stop.

Just as they pulled onto the street, a camera flashed.  Beth emitted a
startled cry.  "Must they do that?"

"It's their job," Eden said, sounding more forgiving than she felt. She
hated censorship in any form, but this kind of intrusion on a private
family matter was plain bad manners--media insolence at its worst.

She glanced back at the house.  The reporters were leaping into their
cars and trucks.  Her chest squeezed with impotent rage at their
audacity.  Beth didn't need this stress.  Neither did she.  Her gaze
met David's in the rearview mirror, and she saw that he was aware of
the media's intention of pursuing them.

Neither mentioned it to Beth, but Eden felt the van accelerate a notch
and knew if it were at all possible, David would try to lose the
unwanted company.  That warm, fuzzy sensation tripped through her
again, and Eden knew she must curtail it permanently; even if no one
was bent on killing her, she was still the main suspect in a double
murder, and David could not afford personally or professionally to be
linked romantically with her.  She would spare him that at all costs.

They left the housing development well ahead of the press cars and news
trucks and, with a few trick turns, managed to reach 1-90 without any
sign of followers Again her gaze met David's in the rearview mirror,
and he winked at her.  Immediately her body reacted, tingling
sensuously in every intimate recess.

Damn the unfairness of life.  She settled into the seat, unable to keep
from staring at his wonderfully shaped head, from stealing glimpses of
his incredible moss green eyes in the mirror.

"I really hate being a baby, Dr.  Coulter," Beth said.  "But I am
scared."

"That's normal, Beth.  But you'll be fine.  In fact, soon you'll feel
like a whole new you."

Beth was quiet a moment, as if contemplating the possibility that her
life could ever take on any semblance of its old vitality.  But Eden
knew she'd dreamed of this constantly since they'd learned her kidneys
were diseased.

Would any of their lives ever be normal again?

The old helplessness attacked Eden.  She'd gladly have relinquished a
kidney for Beth, but after initial testing, Beth had become sensitized
to Eden's blood, rendering her ineligible as a donor.

Beth intruded on Eden's dismal musings, her voice laced with an
optimistic lilt that hadn't been there for entirely too long.  "Do you
realize I might even be able to return to your class next winter?"

So much had occurred in the past year, Eden had all but forgotten how
much Beth had enjoyed David's psych classes.  She leaned forward and
patted her on the shoulder.  "God willing, sweetie, you'll be able to
pick up all your classes."

"Here, here," David cheered.

For the third time, Eden's gaze met his in the mirror.  She forced
herself to look away.  The early-evening traffic was light on the
floating bridge, and the lowering sun reflected on the waters of Lake
Washington like long, glittering Fourth of July sparklers as they drove
toward Seattle and the university district.

They arrived unaccosted at the University of Washington Medical
Center's Emergency entrance.  Inside, few patients occupied the waiting
area, and those who did cast the newest arrivals cursory glances, then
lost interest.  Still, Eden braced herself, knowing one person's
recognizing her could change that.

The nurse at the admittance desk was round and jolly, her straw-colored
hair pulled to the top of her head like a clown's cap.  She greeted
Beth as if she were expected and began recording cheek-in information.
Only once did Eden suffer an uncomfortable moment, when the nurse
glanced sideways at her as if trying to place where she knew her from.
Beth noticed and frowned.

"Well, Ms.  Montgomery, that's all I need from you."  Setting the chart
aside, the plump nurse lumbered out of her chair.  "Soon as we get you
in a hospital gown,

this dog and pony show can begin."

Beth gripped Eden's hand.

"Will it be all right if I come, too?"  Eden asked.  "It's fine with
me."  The nurse looked at Beth.

Beth pulled Eden aside and spoke in a lowered voice.  "You know a slew
of doctors will be in to see me.  Are you sure you're up to facing
them?"

Less than an hour ago, she'd have said a resounding no.  But at this
crucial moment, she realized it mattered very little what other people
thought of her.  "I'd face a tribe of starving cannibals for you."

"I appreciate that, Eden, but they're just running a bunch more tests.
I can handle that on my own."

David stepped between them, "Eden, why don't you let me buy you a
latte?  I know I could use a jolt of caffeine."

"Yes, go," Beth said.  "Then I won't worry about you."

That Beth should have to worry about anyone but herself at this time
settled the matter.  "Sure, sweetie.  But if you change your mind, I'll
be right out here."  She gestured toward the waiting area, which was
gaining new occupants with each passing minute.

Beth noticed the growing crowd, too, and frowned.  "Just meet me
upstairs later, okay?"

"Count on it."  Eden kissed her sister's cheek, then spun around and
fell into step with David.  "Why do I suddenly feel like she's the
older sister?"

"The loss of her physical strength has reduced her to a child in many
ways this past year, but underneath she's the same, extremely mature
twenty-three-year-old."  David wanted to fold Eden's hand into his, but
they didn't have the corridor to themselves and Beth's emergency hadn't
changed the danger of their being seen together.  Even this was risky.
Still, they couldn't very well sneak around the hospital without
looking absurd and guilty.

The fragrant aroma of espresso wafted through the third-floor entrance
area.  David approached the espresso bar while Eden selected a table in
a secluded corner of the sola rim sat and plopped her purse on the
floor.  She watched David as he ordered lattes, and noticed two women
walk past him and glance back.  It struck her anew what a handsome man
he was.  Head-turningly so.  The great thing was, he didn't seem to
know it.

From out of nowhere, a shiver climbed her spine, an eerie, indefinable
creepiness as if someone's gaze were drilling her back.  Her neck
prickled.  She jerked her head up and glanced around, but the few
couples huddled at neighboring tables seemed lost in conversation, and
those people who were alone were either reading or enjoying the view
out the garden sun windows.

No one was looking at her.

Paranoid.  Stressed.  Anxious for Beth.  Any one or all three could
explain the weird feeling.  No one was watching her.  She had to relax.
She propped her elbows on the table and twined her fingers together.
The sensation skittered over her again.  Damn.  Paranoid or not, she
couldn't stay here.

As David started toward her, she crossed to him and accepted one of the
lattes.  "Is there someplace more private we could enjoy this?"

"Why?"

"Oh, nothing."

He studied her.  "No, something.  What?"

She shrugged.  "I just felt as if someone was watching me.  Silly,
huh?"

"Maybe not."  He scanned the area behind her and up and down the wide
hallway.  "I don't see anyone I recognize."

"It's probably my discomfort at being in public."  "Then let's go to my
office.  It will be a while before Beth is taken upstairs and i should
check my mail and phone messages."

THEY'D BEEN in his office ten minutes when the outer door opened.

"Probably housekeeping."  David left Eden sitting beside his desk and
went to investigate.  "Lynzy.  What are you doing here so late?"

Lynzy gave him a big grin.  She wore a short black skirt and a midriff
top.  Her long brown hair swung loose around her shoulders.  "I forgot
my sunglasses."  She retrieved them from her desk, then seemed to
notice the open office door.  "I didn't interrupt a session, did I?"

"No."

Recognizing the voice, Eden rose and walked toward them.

"Mrs.  Prescott."  There was no hesitancy in Lynzy's grin.  "I heard on
the radio that you'd been released.  Congratulations."

"Thank you."  Eden breathed a little easier.

Lynzy waved the hand holding the sunglasses in a gesture of dismissal.
"I never believed all those horrid stories about you.  Person's
innocent till proven otherwise, I say.  But if I were you, I'd be out
celebrating, not here."  Her dark eyebrows dipped low in a frown.  "You
aren't sick or anything?"

"Beth is down in the transplant wing," David answered.  "Might have a
kidney for her."

"Hooray."  Impossibly Lynzy's face became more animated.  "I'll keep my
fingers crossed.  Well, I'd better get home.  I've got a dinner date."
She started for the door, then spun around.  "Oh, Doc, I passed Colleen
on my way in.  She said she's been trying to reach you on your cell
phone."

"It's in my car, which, I'm afraid, is at the Prescotts'.  I haven't
listened to my voice mail yet, either.  Do you know what Colleen
wanted?"

"Apparently she left some letters on your desk that need signing."

"I've seen them."

"And to know about your schedule for tomorrow."  "If Beth has surgery,
I'll probably be here until she's out of recovery.  Kenneth Levy will
cover my classes, and I've left Colleen a note to reschedule
patients."

Lynzy shrugged.  "Looks like you've thought of everything."

When Lynzy left, her energy seemed to desert the room with her, leaving
Eden spent.  "I wish I had her stamina."

David noticed how worn-out she looked.  "It's been a long day.  Come
and sit down while I check my voice mail."

He led her back into his private office.  As he reached for his
telephone, Eden gladly sank into the thick leather chair across from
his desk.  Her eyelids felt heavy, as if she could close them for a
week.  She was too young to be this bone tired.  Maybe a week in her
own

The thought broke off as she realized she could no more spend another
week in that house than she could willingly go back to jail.  Maybe it
was time she told David about her suspicions concerning Valerie.  She
needed his opinion.

The moment he hung up the telephone, she said,

"There's something I want to discuss with you."  "About Beth?"

"This is about my sister-in-law, your former patient.  I know you can't
divulge the root of her problems--why she was seeing you
professionally--but I suspect it had something to do with Peter.  You
don't have to say yes or no, just hear me out."

She explained the conclusions she'd reached.  He listened thoughtfully.
It was one of those things she adored about him, that wonderful ability
to really listen; his job notwithstanding, few people learned that
talent.  "Do you think Valerie is obsessed with you?"  she concluded.

He looked he mused "As is usual with a lot of patients, I'd say Valerie
suffered some transference de pendency, but she'd worked it out by the
end of our sessions."

"Are you certain?"

The question blindsided him, rousing his self-doubts.  He had thought
he'd read Rose Hatcher correctly and missed by miles.  Could he be
wrong about Valerie?  Dare he dismiss Eden's suspicions out of hand? 
He considered for a long moment, then made up his mind.  "Maybe we
should suspect everyone."

"Maybe we should start compiling a list."

"Yeah."  David liked the idea.  He'd been floundering for some course
of action that might actually lead to unmasking the real killer.
"Colleen has paper and pencils in her desk."

"I've got a tablet and a pen in my purse."  Eden reached beside the
chair for her purse but came away with a handful of air.  She leaned
over and scanned the floor on all sides of the chair and around the
desk.  "David, I can't find my purse."

"Did you leave it in the van?"

She considered.  "No, I had it in Emergency.  I took out my insurance
card to show the nurse when Beth was admitted."

"Where else were we?"

It hit them at the same time.  "The solarium."

"Oh, dear.  I remember now.  I set it down beneath the table while I
waited for you.  Then I had that weird feeling of being watched and I
forgot all about it."

They hurried back to the third floor.  As they approached the
solariuTM, Eden caught sight of a small swatch of tanned leather. "It's
still there.  Shoved against the wall now."

She grabbed the purse and, with her heart thumping, wrenched the clasp
open.  One look inside chilled her to the bone.  Everything seemed in
the same neat order she'd left it, with one exception: on top of her
wallet lay a single white rose.,

She let out a rush of air and dropped the purse as if it contained a
huge spider.

David picked it up gingerly between his fingers.  Spotting the rose, he
swore.  "Who the hell could have done this?"

"Whoever was watching me earlier."

Fear stole through David."  Something dark and evil lurked within this
place that represented life and hope.  "The police--"

"Forget it.  You said Kollecki didn't believe the roses meant anything.
This won't change his mind.  Besides, the hospital is out of his
jurisdiction."  Her mind raced.  "You realize this blows my theory on
Val."

"Not necessarily.  We don't know that she's home."  "Good point."  She
caught his arm and dragged him to the nearest bank of pay phones.
"There's one way of proving it."

A minute and a half later, Eden had dialed and was listening to the
phone ring and ring.  She pressed her lips together and started to
replace the receiver.  Valerie's voice resounded from the earpiece.
"Hello!  Hello?"

Eden didn't speak.  She hung up and turned to David.  "She answered."

"The first one on our list and the first one off.  Don't look so
disappointed.  We'll find others and start a new list."  He ached to
hold her.  With an effort, he curbed the urge and, settling for her
elbow, guided her toward an elevator.  "Beth ought to be upstairs.
She'll be wondering if we've forgotten her."

They emerged on the fourth floor and started down the hall.  Eden
stopped dead in her tracks.  David pulled up short, too.  She couldn't
believe her eyes.  In the designated waiting area outside the
transplant wing, two women reposed on the decorative chairs situated
near the ladies' room.

One of the women was Valerie.  Apparently she was having her calls
forwarded to her cell phone.

David leaned toward Eden and whispered, "The list lives."

She nodded and strode to her sister-in-law's side.  Valerie stood,
wringing her hankie in her fingers.  Eden kept her voice level.  "Val,
I told you I'd call as soon as we knew something."

"Ariel said she might be needed here."

Eden glanced at the woman beside Val.  It was not Ariel Bell.  "That
doesn't explain why you're here."

Valerie drew in a noisy breath, and her voice took on a plaintive tone.
"I couldn't stand waiting alone, so I came with her.  Beth has been in
my care these past weeks, you know, and I'm just as concerned for her
welfare as you are."

The tiny declaration rang with sincerity, shaking Eden's confidence in
Valerie's guilt.  Admittedly Val had always treated Beth decently and
with concern ever since she'd fallen ill.  Was the thought of perhaps
losing Beth so soon after losing Peter tearing Val up inside?  Or was
this just a clever performance by a cold-blooded murderer?

Eden felt the woman next to Val staring at her and, when she glanced at
her again, her stomach dipped to her toes.  She knew this face from'
the local six-o'clock news.

The woman stood and thrust a microphone she'd held out of view beneath
her full skirt toward Eden.  "Mrs.  Prescott, perhaps you'd give me an
exclusive?"

"Go away."  David stepped in front of Eden.  "Or I'll call security and
have you escorted out."

A scruffy-looking female stepped from the ladies' room hefting a news
camera on one shoulder, the lens scanning Eden and David.  Eden turned
back to Val erie.  "How did they know to come here?"

"I guess they followed Ariel and me."

As if she hadn't heard David, the reporter continued.  "Eden, Ms.
Prescott generously shared the good news about the kidney donor for
your sister.  It's been quite a day for you.  Won't you tell our
watchers how you're coping?"

Eden tamped down her anger at Valerie, lifted her chin, squared her
shoulders and said into the camera, "No comment."

She skirted the reporter and moved into the transplant wing.  David
escorted her to the nurses' station, found out which room Beth occupied
and received two isolation masks.  Handing one to Eden, he said,
"Room's halfway down."

As they approached, two doors on opposite sides of the hall opened at
the same time and a nurse wearing a mask emerged from each room.  The
first slipped hers off.  It was Ariel Bell, whom Eden would have
recognized regardless, thanks to her hot-pink pants uniform.

The second nurse stopped Ariel, and as they started chatting, removed
her own mask.  Eden's pulse wobbled.  The second nurse was Denise
Smalley.

Ariel turned and greeted them.  Denise smiled at David, then glared at
Eden.  "Well, isn't this my lucky day?"

Eden let the sarcasm roll over her.  "Ariel probably told you my sister
has been admitted for her transplant."

"So has my patient--the backup recipient."

Eden knew a backup recipient was always notified in case the final
cross-matching showed that the primary recipient, in this case Beth,
had any preformed immunity to the donor, which would make her
ineligible for the donated kidney.

But it was unnecessarily cruel of Denise to remind her.  An intended
spite.  Eden restrained the urge to lash back at her.  Since she'd been
a small child, her mother had always told her the best wars were the
ones walked away from with your dignity intact.  "Don't cast the first
stone, do defend your convictions and always be a lady," her mother had
always said.

"Ariel, how is Beth doing?"  Eden asked, ignoring the scathing look
Denise cast her, but not missing the longing glance she sent David.

Ariel ran her hands through her unkempt hairdo, mussing it worse than
usual, which perversely enhanced her adorable face.  Her gaze shifted
between David and Eden.  "She's optimistic.  But I think she'll be glad
to see you."

David and Eden donned their masks and entered the room.

Beth was stretched out on the bed, her eyes closed.  She had undergone
a second set of testing, seen a secOnd round of doctors and showered
with a special antiseptic soap.  Now she had to wait for the final
Cross-match.  Once the call came that she was going for the transplant,
antibiotics would be given intravenously just before she left for the
operating room.

She opened her eyes.  "Hi."

"How are you feeling?"

"I hate this waiting."

"Waiting is always the hardest part," David assured her.  "But today
has been a day of miracles for the Montgomery sisters.  Eden's out of
jail, and you're going to get your new kidney."

Eden said a silent prayer that he was right, that this donor would be
the one who saved her sister's life.  She added another prayer for
people who marked their driver's licenses to be a donor, one for the
miracle of modern medicine and one last prayer for the family whose
loved one had lost his or her life.

Beth closed her eyes again.

Eden led David over to the window.  The night pressed down against the
glass, as dark as her thoughts.  "Did you notice the way Denise Smalley
looked at you?"  "Not really."

"Well, you should have.  I think she has some kind of major crush on
you."

David grinned.  "No way."

Eden nodded.  "I think we should add her to the list."  "But Shannon
was her sister."

"Valerie being Peter's sister hasn't exempted her from suspicion."

He sighed.  "Point taken."

"At least consider it.  She and Shannon might have hated each other.
And we should find out how long she's been on duty tonight.  Maybe she
was the one who put the rose into my purse."

"Okay.  I'll meander down to the nurses' station and strike up a
conversation with her."  Above the mask, his green eyes shone with
mischief.  "See what kind of detective I am."

Eden smiled.  "Be discreet, Sherlock."

"Certainly, my dear Watson."  David left Eden sitting beside Beth's
bed.

But Denise was not at the nurses' station.  Valerie lurched out of the
chair beside Ariel and rushed to him, making him wonder if Eden's
prediction that Val still had tender feelings for him held some
validity.  "How's Beth doing?"  Valerie asked.

"I'm sure Ariel told you."  He was not happy to see the reporter still
hanging around and wasn't about to divulge information on Beth's
condition to the press.  He hoped Valerie started using some discretion
in that area.

The news reporter was on him in a wink.  "Dr.  Coulter, could you spare
me a moment?"

He waved her off.  "As I stated earlier, I have nothing to say."

"Not even about Rose Hatcher's escape from prison?"

Chapter Seven

"Escaped?"  David felt a shock jolt through his body with the force of
a lightning bolt.  "When?"

The reporter blinked at his raised voice.  "About a month and a half
ago."

"A month and a... That's not possible.  If there'd been an escape from
Purdy, every news network west of the Cascades would have covered the
story."

Xfsibly regaining her practiced composure, the reporter spoke into her
microphone.  "Rose Hatcher didn't escape from Purdy.  Apparently she
caused some trouble up there in March and again in April, and they
contracted with Oregon Women's Correctional Center in Salem to take
her."

She shifted the microphone under his nose.

David growled, "How long have you known about this?"

"It was brought to my attention last week."

He blanched, suspecting his face was as white as the collar of the
reporter's blouse.  She frowned at him.  "I've also heard rumors that
she was recanting her confession.  What do you think?  Did she kill
Marianne DePaul?"

"I--I have no thoughts about that."  But he did.  God help him, he did.
Hanging on to what little remained of his composure, he wheeled around
and headed back down the hall to Beth's room, but he stayed outside. He
needed to catch his breath, to sort out what it all meant.

He leaned against the wall, disbelief and shock tumbling inside him.
Rose Hatcher had been on the loose since before Peter and Shannon were
murdered.  He didn't know whether to be relieved for Eden's sake or
terrified for all their sakes.  Did Kollecki know about this?  He must.
Must have known for weeks.  Damn his ornery hide.

Anger chased the chill from his blood and slowed his ragged breathing.
David shoved away from the wall, opened the door and stepped into
Beth's room.  Dr.  Ingalls was there, a tall, rangy man with thick,
wavy brown hair, who bore a striking resemblance to Elliott Gould.

He acknowledged.  David with a somber nod, then turned back to his
patient.  "I'm sorry, Beth.  The cross-matching has ruled you
ineligible for the available kidney."  '

A breath shuddered from Beth, shaking her thin body, and her shoulders
slumped as if the doctor's words had stolen the very life from her. The
silence that followed was painful, then Beth lifted her head and tried
giving Eden a brave smile.  It wobbled and died.

Helplessness descended on DaVid like a slab of lead, robbing him of
words and actions; he wanted to go to Beth but couldn't move.  Not even
when tears streamed unchecked down her face.  She emitted a cry of
frustration and yanked the IV tube from her arm.

Dr.  Ingalls lurched forward, alarm widening his eyes.  "Please, Beth,
don't--"

"Leave me alone."  Beth flung herself off the bed with a surprising
strength she hadn't shown in months.  She slammed open the closet,
dragged her clothes off the hanger and began tugging off the hospital
gown.  Eden rushed to assist her.

The hospital gown pooled at Beth's feet, but she showed no sign of
caring that she stood naked before everyone.

David caught Dr.  Ingalls by the arm.  "Let's let them handle this."
The two men left the room.

Beth hauled her sweatshirt over her head, tossing her bra at the
overnight bag, oblivious that it snagged on one of the Velcro fasteners
to dangle on the outside.  Eden said softly, "Hey, slow down, huh?"  "I
can't.  I can't."

Eden leaned over, retrieved and packed the bra.  "I understand the
frustration you're feeling, sweetie... and the fury... and the
injustice."

Beth stopped at that.  She stared long and hard at Eden, then nodded.
She wiped her face on her sleeve, sniffled and exhaled loudly.  "I just
want to get out of here... as far away as possible."

"We can do that."

Beth's surge of energy subsided, and she accepted Eden's help getting
into her sweatpants and loafers.  Eden hoisted the overnight bag and
offered Beth her free arm for support.  As they reached the door, Beth
said, "Oh, don't forget your purse."

Eden glanced at the offending object perched in the visitor's chair,
and her throat constricted.  At least Beth had taken her mind off of
the rose... for a while.  But as she gathered her purse to her side, a
delicate scent lifted from its depths, tickling the air with a noxious
stench reminiscent of funereal flowers.

David waited in the hall for them.  An ashen hue tinged his complexion
as though he were somehow more upset about this than even Beth.  How
could that be?  Granted, he was a caring doctor, but he wasn't the one
whose life hinged on a donor kidney, and although he knew Beth's
condition worsened daily, he believed in the power of positive
thinking.

Yet he had not offered one encouraging maxim.  Anxiety rolled through
Eden's empty stomach.  Something was terribly amiss.  Had he perhaps
discovered Denise Sinalley might be a candidate for their suspect
list?

The walk to the waiting area felt as short as a walk off a gangplank
into a sea of uncertainty, and gazing ahead, Eden saw the waters were
full of predators.  Both Val erie and Ariel wore' concerned expressions
and converged on Beth like a pair of curious crabs plucking at her with
their verbal claws.

Valerie reached for Beth, then stayed her hand "David told us the bad
news."  Her voice was weepy.  "Now, don't you worry, dear.  They'll
find another nor real soon."

Eden wanted to tell Valerie to put a SOCk in it, but she noticed the
reporter and her camera person circling nearby.

Ariel gave Beth a huge smile and snagged the hem of her sweatshirt in
her thin fingers, straightening it.  "Ah, you'll feel better when
you're home in your own bed."

From the corner of her eye, Eden saw the reporter was menacingly close
now, the camera riding her pan ion shoulder Yke a black dorsal fin.
Eden tensed, feeling as though she were about to be devoured by the
great white media.

The reporter spoke into her microphone.  "Mrs.  Prescott, er, Eden.
We've heard the bad news.  How do you feel?"  She shifted toward Beth.
"How do you feel, Ms.  Montgomery?"

As the microphone snaked toward her, Beth wrenched free of Eden.

"No."  Panic filled her eyes, and she lunged at David, grabbing his
shirtfront and burying her head against his chest.  Like a sick child,
she bawled, "Keep her away from me.  Keep her away from me.  Keep her
away."  '

David roared at the newswomen, "Back off!"  "Could you people please
lower your voices?"  Denise Smalley's anger had her face scrunched like
an overripe prune.  "This is not a war zone."

She glared at the reporter and camerawoman.  "I believe Dr.  Coulter
asked you to leave.  Let me second that."

The camera kept rolling.  The reporter kept speaking into her mike.

"Today a judge claimed Eden Prescott's Fourth Amendment rights were
violated in the procurement of the weapon used to murder her husband
and his fiancee.  She was released from prison--all charges dropped. 
In a rare irony of events tonight, the sister of Shannon Sinalley,
Denise Smalley, actually defended Mrs.  Prescott against questioning by
this reporter."  She shoved the microphone at Denise.  "Would you like
to say anything about that, Ms.  Smalley?"

"I never..."  Denise's face was crimson.  She poked a finger at the
reporter.  "That does it.  I'm calling security."

"Don't bother.  We've got enough.  We're leaving."  The newswomen moved
off and boarded an elevator.

Valerie turned on Eden, her face red with fury, her eyes wild with
hate.  "If you hadn't tricked the police into setting you free, the
rest of us wouldn't have been subjected to this media persecution."

Eden clamped her mouth shut, too angry to trust what she might do or
say.

Ariel shook her head, her straw-colored hair shifting like wind through
a haystack.  "Could we please get my patient home?"

Beth's eyes flew wide at the suggestion.  "No.  I can't go back to that
house.  There will just be more reporters there."

Eden gently stroked Beth'S back.  "We aren't going back to that house,
sweetie, not ever."

"What?"  Valerie stiffened as if Eden had struck her.  "What do you
mean, never coming back?  I don't pretend to like it, Eden, but you do
own half of the house."

"Then you can buy my share from me, Val.  Or you can sell it and give
me half of the proceeds.  But I won't live under the same roof with a
woman who thinks I murdered her brother."  A woman I think might be the
real murderer.

Valerie 'stepped back, her face crimson.  But she didn't bother to deny
the accusation.  She turned to Ariel.  "I'm ready to leave now."

As Val stalked to the elevators, Ariel glanced at Eden.  "Are you
terminating me?"

"Oh, no, Ariel."  She softened her expression.  "But I'm not sure yet
where we'll be.  May I call you tomorrow?"

"Of course.  If I'm not at my apartment, leave a message."

David, Beth and Eden waited until they were gone, then withdrew to his
office.  Beth collapsed on the sofa and was soon asleep.

Night draped the windows.  David and Eden stood beside his desk. Inches
separated them.  He studied her face, detecting the pain and
disappointment of the past few hours.  He ached to comfort her, but the
need heating his blood restrained him; he didn't trust himself to offer
her only comfort, and right now her needs were more important than his.
He tore the top page from his desk calendar.  "Have you decided where
you're going yet?"

She let out a weary sigh.  "No."

He swallowed hard.  "I have two guest rooms."

Her gaze met his.  Was it only a few hours ago that he'd demanded she
stay away from him?  Now he was offering to open his home to her and
her sister.  She loved him for it.  His house held a lot of warm
memories for her; however, right now it was the second-to-last place
she would feel safe.  "Don't you think the reporters would figure that
out soon enough?"

He frowned, and that odd glint she'd noticed in his eyes earlier
reappeared.  Uneasiness danced over her skin.  What had happened to
cause that glint?  Before she could ask, he snapped his fingers.  "I
have an idea.  Let me make a call."

He went into the outer office and used Colleen's phone.  Eden settled
her weary body into the leather chair facing his desk.  She strained to
hear his end of the conversation, picking up the sound of his voice but
not what he was saying.  She shut her eyes, opening them minutes later
when she felt his presence.  He stood over her, his gaze filled with
tenderness.  Her heart quickened.

"I just talked my brother, James, into lending us a rental house he has
vacant at the moment.  It's on Lake Retreat, a beautiful old Victorian
with a fence on both sides of the property and a lawn that slopes down
to the lake.  It even has a private dock and a rowboat."

A rowboat?  He'd said it as if he were a Realtor intent on selling her
the place.  Despite the seriousness of the situation, she grinned.

He rounded his desk, dropped into the chair and scrawled something on a
notepad.  "James is meeting us out back in twenty minutes.  We're going
to exchange your van for his car."

Her grin faltered, and she eyed him incredulously.  "Why the extra
Precaution--surely not because someone left a rose in my abandoned
Purse?"

David tensed and glanced away from her as though he couldn't stand her
scrutiny.  He vacated his chair in a jerky movement and strode to the
window, yanking the mini blind cord and staring out into the street
below.  Eden stepped up behind him.  He glanced over his shoulder at
her.

She ached to touch him, to smooth away the twin frown lines between his
eyebrows.  She curled her fingers against her palm.  "What's going
on?"

A sigh slipped from his lips, and he spun away from the window.  But
before he could answer, Beth yawned loudly, grabbing their attention.
She pulled herself into a sitting position.  "Sorry, I guess I drifted
off."

Beth knew nothing of the stalker, and Eden preferred keeping it that
way.  She walked to the sofa and sat down beside her.  "It's all right,
sweetie, you needed the sleep."

"Have you figured out where we're going?"  "Yep.  David has taken care
of that."

As he repeated his description of the lake house, Eden gazed at his
beloved face.  What had him so edgy?  She knew they were still in
danger, but this felt so very immediate.  It had to be more than the
rose.  "What?  Sometime before this night ended, he and she were going
to have a long talk.

Beth had a dozen questions about the house and the lake.  David
answered each one patiently, then glanced at his watch.  "Come on, you
two.  Gather your belongings.  James will be cooling his heels in the
parking lot by now."

Cooling seemed the operative word.  The night air stole through Eden's
silk pantsuit with gelid fingers, embracing her, lifting goose bumps.
In all the excitement over Beth, she had neglected bringing a coat but
she hadn't missed having one--until now.

The only comfort was that no reporters lurked in this parking lot.
She'd bet the same couldn't be said for the parking lot where her van
waited.

She hugged herself against the chill as David introduced them to his
older brother.  James Coulter was a handsome, fortyish Seattle
businessman who looked as if he'd be more at home in a three-piece
business suit than in the Levi's and sweater he wore now.  He was
heavier than David by at least thirty pounds, and gray streaked his
brown hair at the temples.

David insisted Beth and she get into the car while James and he
finished talking.

"Everything you asked for is in the trunk.  The keys to the house are
on the ring here."  james handed the keys of his year-old Cadillac
Seville to David.  "The insurance is paid, but don't make me collect on
it ... if you can help it."

David laughed.  He gave James instructions on where to find Eden's van
and climbed behimd the wheel.  Beth sat in back, nodding off again.

As exhausted as she was, Eden sat rigidly on the front passenger seat
beside David.  The motor purred, and the luxury of the car enfolded her
like nothing had done in ages.  She drew in a deep, tired breath.  The
smell of rich leather invaded her nose and her senses, thankfully
eradicating the cloying, hated scent of the rose.

But not the danger it evoked.

She gazed out at the lighted street, but the tinted car windows
enhanced the ominous feel of the night.  Who had watched her at the
solarium?  Was she watching still?

As they left the university district and got on I-5, Eden saw David
constantly checking the rearview mirror.  Was she following them even
now?  The thought strangled her.  Maybe there was no safe place to
hide.

Traffic on the 1-90 floating bridge was modest.  David alternated
between driving the speed limit and ten miles per hour under it,
keeping alert for anyone who mirrored his actions.  Afraid Beth might
overhear, Eden clutched her hands in anxious silence, wrestling the
physical ache to ask if he saw anyone or anything suspicious.

Thirty minutes passed with the speed of three hours.  He exited the
freeway at Issaquah, drew to a stop at the red light and glanced her
way.  She could see him clearly beneath the streetlight.  He sent her a
reassuring grin and gently shook his head.  She drew a wobbly breath
and swallowed over the lump in her throat.  They took the
Issaquah-Hobart road out of town, proceeded past the access onto
Highway 18, continued on through the town of Hobart and finally stopped
at the light in Ravens-dale.

"Just a few more miles," David said, turning east.  Minutes later they
were on Lake Retreat Drive, a narrow, tree-lined road following the
shoreline of Lake Retreat.  Residences, impossible to define in the
dark with only the flash of the Cadillac's headlights sweeping over
them, embraced the land between water and road.

David slowed, then stopped before a six-foot-tall, moss-stained wooden
fence.  Nothing advertised the pro perry availability for lease.  "I
thought you said the house was for rent."

"James leases it from September to the end of May.  He keeps it
available for his private use during the summer, so he and his family
can get away from the city whenever the mood strikes."  David got out,
unlocked the gate, drove through and closed and secured it from
inside.

Eden eyed the lofty pine trees huddled overhead, swaying and creaking
in the gusty wind as if warning them to leave this private sanctuary.
The Cadillac rolled onward, down the dirt driveway toward a huge black
hulk that could only be the house.

A shiver skittered over Eden at its forbidding appearance "It'll look
better with lights on, right?"  "Definitely."  David chuckled.

He parked the Cadillac at an angle, aiming the headlights at a door
with an oval etched-glass window in its center.  The charm of the
entrance and the wraparound porch shattered Eden's misgivings.  This
would be all right after all.

"Stay here until I get the lights turned on."  David scrambled out of
the car, and minutes later they were all inside the house.

"Wow."  Beth blinked, only half-awake, taking in the living room with
its three sofas, single end table and twin floor lamps, the extent of
its furnishings, all arranged around the Victorian fireplace.  "It's
big."

"And cold."  Eden whirled in a circle, eyeing the naked windows and the
bare oak floor.  Her every footstep emitted an eerie reverberation.

"And it echoes."  David's impression of Bela Lugosi was stereotypically
perfect.

Beth laughed.  Eden gazed her way and grinned.  "Call me a party
pooper, but what heats this place anyway?"

David crossed to a thermostat.  "In a few hours, we'll be nice and
toasty.  Meanwhile I'll start a fire.  We might want to sleep in here.
There's a couch for everyone, and James provided sleeping bags and some
food."

Eden helped him unload the car.  They returned a moment later with
laden arms.  David dropped the sleeping bags in the living room, and
Eden carried the grocery sacks into the kitchen, a large, charming room
done in peach and mint green, with cream-colored tile counters.  The
appliances were modern and included a microwave and a Mr.  Coffee;
obviously James and family liked their comforts.

She pulled a coffee can from one of the sacks.  An hour ago, she'd been
ready to collapse.  Now she doubted she could sleep.  The coffee was
just starting to drip when David came in.

"Finding everything all right?"

"As though I were at home."  She noticed with some surprise that she no
longer tensed at every sound.

"Coffee'll be ready soon, and I've got TV dinners in the microwave."
'

"Smells wonderful.  I've got the fire started.  Why don't you go sit
with Beth and warm up?  I'll bring in the food when it's ready."

For Beth's sake, they kept the conversation light while they ate.  Like
a child who had spent a long and tiring day, she nearly fell asleep
over her fettucini and made no protests about climbing into her
sleeping bag.

Eden cleared away the dirty food containers and refilled David's and
her cups, then returned to the living room.  He sat on the floor, his
back propped against a sofa, his knees drawn to his flat stomach.  Beth
slept, her even breathing vying with the soft hiSS of the burning logs.
Eden settled beside him.  Absently he took the cup she offered, but his
gaze remained fixed on the fire, while a muscle in his jaw twitched to
the rhythm of his thoughts.

Obviously, all-consuming thoughts.

Her patience snapped.  "All right.  What's going on?  You've been
worrying about something for hours now."

He tossed back a healthy swig of coffee, glancing at her only when he
set the cup down again.  "You'd better brace yourself."

He related his encounter with the TV reporter and the bombshell she'd
dropped about Rose Hatcher.

The heat drained from Eden's cheeks.  She scooted up and sat on the
sofa, her gaze flying toward the window, seeing her own reflection
flickering like a ghost in the cold panes.  "Do you think she could
have killed Peter and Shannon?"

"It makes sense.  Shannon's was the second name on that hit list the
cops found in Rose's apartment."

His words filled her ears and screamed through her mind like the shrill
cry of a hungry hyena.  Eden hugged herself.  Neither the fire nor the
coffee could touch the chill swirling inside her.  There was no doubt
in her mind that her name was now at the top of Rose Hatcher's list. 
No doubt that only a fluke had spared her from the deadly trap Rose had
set for her.

But what new trap was Rose setting?

Chapter Eight

The fear on Eden's face shattered David's resolve to keep his distance.
He scooted onto the sofa and took her hands into both of his own.  She
glanced at their entwined fingers, then up into his face.  Tears
shimmered in her beautiful eyes, wetting her thick lashes, but she
jutted her chin as if willing them not to fall.

"I'll always be here for you, Eden.  You don't have to be brave for
me."

She grinned lopsidedly and gently squeezed his hand.  "How easy it
would be to collapse.  God knows, I'm tired enough and frightened
enough, but I won't surrender my life without a fight."

She glanced at Beth with the same tenderness and love in her eyes that
she'd shown for him.  "On a cold summer night very much like this one,
when I was nineteen and living in an apartment with three other girls,
and Beth was fourteen and attending a slumber party, our parents died.
A house fire."

Her voice broke, and she lifted her chin a notch higher.  "A neighbor
managed to save Morn, but she was badly burned.  For two excruciating
weeks, she clung to life through unimaginable pain.  Watching her
struggle, I realized how precious life was to her, how precious it must
always be to me.  So you see, I do need to be brave.  For myself.  It's
the only defense I have against Rose Hatcher."

At first glance, he supposed most people took Eden for a fragile woman
who'd quail at the very thought of personal hardship, but she proved
correct the old adage about not judging a book by its cover.  Petite,
yes.  Fragile, no.  He admired that inner strength.  He glanced at
Beth.  "We're going to have to tell her."."

"I know."  Eden leaned against him.  If only this haven were the
rca!ity of their lives: a safe, normal environment where love could
blossom.  But it was as much a prison as the King County Jarl--only
here, the bars were tall pines, a lake and a moss-stained fence.

Suddenly she felt as if she couldn't breathe.  She shoved up and off
the sofa and stepped to the fireplace, her back to the uncovered window
panes and whatever eyes might be peering in at them.  David came up
behind her, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against
him.  Eden closed her eyes, welcoming the warmth his body sent into
hers, the strength.

Gently, like a couple dancing in place to a much-loved song only they
could hear, she swayed with him, feeling her distress lifting, lifting
as David was lifting her now, cradling her in his arms.  She locked her
hands be hind his neck, lolled her head against his shoulder, her body
snug to his chest.

Holding her like a child, he continued to sway, until Eden gave in to
her exhaustion and fell asleep.  David eased her down on the sofa,
lowered her head to the pillow and pulled the sleeping bag to her chin.
He ached to climb into that bag beside her and hold her all night.  He
settled for brushing his lips across her silken cheek.

Then he rechecked the door and window locks, tossed another log on the
fire, doused the lights and hunkered into his own sleeping bag.

THE PUNGENCY of frying bacon and fresh-brewed coffee filtered into
Eden's consciousness, clearing away the last vestiges of sleep.  She
inhaled deeply.  To her dismay, the action sent a violent lurch through
her stomach-the usually adored aromas inducing nausea.  She stumbled
from the sofa, hurried into the tiny bathroom off the foyer and
retched.

A minute later, with her stomach empty if somewhat unsettled, she
splashed cold water on her face and glanced at her reflection in the
oak-framed oval mirror.  Her complexion was the color of fresh snow.
Her legs felt rubbery.  Her eyes looked bruised.  And she was so
exhausted, she wanted to sleep forever.  "Damn you, Rose Hatcher.
Stalking my dreams.  Haunting my life."

Her words to David about not giving up her life stilled her tirade.
Falling apart was something Valerie would do.  Not her.  But how would
she manage to pull herself together?  If she were home, she'd start
with a shower and clean clothes; feeling physically put together
usually boosted her spirits.

Instead, she was stuck in this awful pantsuit that looked like a cousin
to an accordion and hair that poked up where it ought to lie flat.  She
could do nothing for her clothes, but her hair was another matter.  She
sprinkled water on the offending tresses and finger-combed it into a
semblance of its usual style, then pinched her cheeks.

Not much improvement, she decided, but the best she could manage at the
moment.

She returned to the living room.  Despite its lack of window covering,
despite the sunny day, shadows dominated, creating a gloomy
aura--thanks, Eden realized, to the trees that hugged the high side of
the lot.

In total contrast, the kitchen was as bright as if it were a raft in
the middle of the lake, and David as sunny as its assigned life guard.
He was standing at the stove, juggling pots and pans whose contents
reeked of stomach-churning aromas.  She forced a smile.  "Good morning"
'

He grinned at her.  "Afternoon, actually."

Eden nodded.  She could not look at the food.  Smelling it was
difficult enough.  Her gaze rolled over the oak table to the picture
window and the glorious view of sloping green lawn and lake.  Beth's
frail body and ebony hair caught her attention.  She sat, hugging her
knees, on a sturdy-looking dock watching a fisherman east and reel.

Beside Beth, bobbing in the water, was the much-acclaimed rowboat, but
Eden was instantly concerned about the fisherman not being who or what
he seemed.  "Should Beth be out there in full view of-- ?"

"Don't worry."  David cut her off.  The oven open.  Eden glanced at him
in time to see the platter resting on the oven shelf, a heap of bacon
hugging side, to which he was adding more slices.  "This completely
private, from neighbors and passersby alike."

A beautiful prison, Eden thought, strolling to the table, noticing for
the first time that it was set for three.  Apricot-colored paper
napkins nestled on the muted green stoneware plates.  She stroked the
top of one of the oak chairs.  "I can't believe James rents this house
furnished.  Isn't he afraid someone will steal some of these
antiques?"

"The same couple has rented it for five years.  They have no children
and travel all summer.  It's a perfect situation for both parties."
David placed a pitcher of orange juice on the table.  "It is a great
old house, isn't it?"

Recalling the parallels she'd been drawing between.  this house and
jail, she felt her cheeks heat.  But the truth was, under other
circumstances, she might appreciate the house's attributes, instead of
dwelling on its negative aspects.  "I like this room, but the living
room isn't as warm as I would have done it."

He broke eggs into a bowl.  "Did you decorate your house?"

Picturing the formal decor at "Prescott Manor," Eden laughed.  "Oooh,
nooo.  Peter insisted on hiring professionals.  His house had to
reflect his wealth and his exquisite good taste, His wealthy colleagues
and clients were meant to envy him."

David stirred the eggs, added milk and seasoning, stirred again, then
poured them into a frying pan.  "How would you have decorated it?"

Considering the question, she strode to the toaster and plunked in two
slices of bread.  "I'm not sure.  But certainly in a way that exhibited
something of the personalities of the people who lived there ... the
way your house does."

His neck reddened at the compliment, at the thought it provoked of his
partially furnished living room, and he wanted to drop the subject as
he'd dropped his interest in that project when Marianne DePaul was
murdered.  His preoccupation with searching down the perfect
furnishings had been the very thing distracting his attention from Rose
Hatcher's obsession.

She glanced over her shoulder.  He was dishing the scrambled eggs onto
the platter in the oven.  Her stomach rolled, and she drew a steadying
breath.  "How long have you owned your house?"

"Six years now.  Our great-uncle Harry left James this house and me the
one on Lake Washington."  He lifted the platter toward her.  Eden
backed away.

David headed for the table.  "Brunch is served.  You'd better get
yourself some coffee."

"I'm going to pass on the coffee.  My stomach is protesting all the
acid I've dumped into it lately."  She pulled the bread from the
toaster and added another two slices.  "In fact, at the risk of
offending you, I think I'd better stick to some dry toast."

"Mayhe you're coming down with something."  He placed the platter on a
hot pad, then came to her and felt her forehead.

She chuckled, embarrassed, and brushed at his arm, but the contact
disconcerted her.  Their gazes locked, and she could see he wanted to
pull her into his arms, to kiss her, and more.  God help her, she
wanted that, too.  But they could not afford to get lost in passion
with Beth so near.

With Rose Hatcher perhaps somewhere just as near.  Eden stacked the
toast on the plate and carried it to the table, glancing out the window
again.  The lake was a cool sparkling green, much like David's eyes.
She heard him scrape back a chair and sit.  "I'll get Beth."  But Beth
was already heading toward the house.  "She's on her way."  David
patted the spot to his right.

Keeping her eyes off the food, Eden joined him.  A cellular phone was
lying next to his place setting.  She studied his face.  "Have you
called Kollecki?"

David scooped scrambled eggs onto his plate, then grabbed a bunch of
bacon.  "He didn't believe a stranger put the rose in your purse."

"Big surprise."  Eden reached for a piece of dry toast.  "Hell, he's
convinced--" With his eyes flashing angrily, David snatched up the
pitcher and poured orange juice into three juice glasses, plunking the
last in front of Eden, totally forgetting she was avoiding acid.

"You know what he's convinced of."  David's neck was tinged red.  "He
hasn't warned anyone of Rose's escape.  Said she was spotted in
Southern California two days ago and will soon be back in custody.  To
which he added, "She's not dumb enough to come back to Washington."  So
I called Colleen and Lynzy and warned them my selL

Eden started.  "Their names were on the list?"

He nodded.  "In fact, Rose Hatcher was actually a friend of both Lynzy
and Colleen."

"And me."  Beth walked into the kitchen, her face pink either from
exertion or too much sun.

But Eden was too pro pied to worry about sunburn.  She hadn't realized
the class Beth had taken with David was the same class Rose and
Marianne DePaul were in.  "How well did you know Rose?"

"Fairly well."  Beth sat down, spOOned a small portion of eggs onto her
plate and grabbed one piece of bacon from the stack.  Instead of taking
a bite, she shoved the food around with her fork.  "Well enough to be
shocked that she'd commit a violent act against someone.  It seemed
so... I don't know... out of character."

Eden glanced at David, wondering if he agreed with this assessment of
Rose, but he seemed lost in some thought of his own.  Was it about
Rose, or something else?  She glanced back at Beth.  "Out of
character--how?"

Beth's blue eyes rounded.  "Well, she always struck me as one of those
people who'd... oh, you know... coax a fly out of a room rather than
swat it."

Eden took another bite of toast, hoping her stomach would settle down.
"What was Marianne DePaul like?"

"I didn't care for her."  Beth tried the eggs and grimaced.  "She was
such a suck-up."

David wasn't sure if his teaching ability had just been challenged or
his cooking ability.  He grinned.  "I thought Marianne showed great
promise."

"Yeah, and it went right to her head."  Beth stopped her fork halfway
to her mouth.  "Say, why are we talking about Rose and Marianne?"

Eden had dreaded this moment.  She'd also spent agonizing hours
considering how to best broach the subject without terrifying Beth.
She'd never thought Beth would provide the perfect opening.  "There's
something we need to discuss with you."

Brunch ended abruptly, appetites vanishing with the serious swing of
the conversation.

Beth seemed to take the news with equal doses of shock and outrage and
fear.  She shoved her plate away, the pitiful portion of food she'd
doled herself still clinging to it.  "Lynzy and Colleen must he
freaked."

"They'll take extra precautions and keep their eyes out for Rose."
David stood, gathered dirty dishes and carried them to the sink.

Eden also felt the need for activity.  She collected the remaining
plates and brought them to the counter.  David ran soapy water in the
sink.

Beth's voice sliced through the tension invading the cheery kitchen.
"Eden, what about my dialysis?  I have an appointment in a couple of
hours."

David shut off the water.  "Not to worry.  We'll get you there."  At
Eden's questioning glance, he added, "James will he here soon with your
van."

Eden had a bad feeling about this, but she decided to keep it to
herself.

"I wish I could shower and change my clothes," Beth muttered loudly
enough for them to hear.

"I'll tell you what," David said, with a jovial lilt Eden doubted he
felt.  "While you're at dialysis, Eden and I'll stop by the house. Eden
can pick up some clothes for you both and anything else you want."

Beth'sraven eyebrows dipped in a frown.  "But what if Rose is watching
the house and follows you back here?"

Eden walked to the table and caught Beth's hand.  "We'll he extra
cautious."

"Eden," Beth said, "you don't even know what she looks like."

"David told me, but at any rate, you know."

Beth's eyebrow took a stubborn arch.  "She has bright red hair that
reaches to her waist, and she's petite, about your size."

"I'll keep my eyes peeled for her, but Detective Kol-lecki assures us
that Rose is in California.  So we're probably worrying about
nothing."

Still, Beth frowned.  "What about the reporters?"

David and Eden exchanged glances, then he reached for the cell phone
and dialed.  Eden shrugged and shook her head at Beth; she had no idea
who he was calling.

David said, "Valerie, it's me.  Yes, Beth is fine.  I swear."  He blew
out an exasperated breath, and Eden sat down beside Beth, pitying David
the tirade obviously pouring from her sister-in-law.  His eyes narrowed
in frustration.  "Valerie, are the reporters still hanging around the
house?"

There was a pause.  Then he said, "Go look.  Now."  While he waited, he
rolled his eyes to the ceiling, then gazed at Eden.  "She claims she
told the reporters you were never coming back and they actually
believed her and left.  But I'm having her double-check."

Before Eden could respond, he spoke again into the receiver.  "Yes,
Valerie, I'm still here.  Thank you."  Another pause.  "Just curious,
that's all.  Goodbye."

He hung up and explained, "She wanted to know why I was asking about
the reporters.  I figured it was better to let her speculate.  No el
ling what she'd do if she knew we would be showing up there later."

The reporters were actually gone.  The tension in Eden's stomach eased,
and she felt the first stirring of confidence that the toast would stay
put.

"What about Ariel?"  Beth asked.

"Oh, dear," Eden said.  '"I'd forgotten her."

Eden explained her decision to Beth, then used the phone.  It was
answered on the fifth ring.  "Ariel, it's Eden Prescott."

The nurse greeted her warmly, then promptly asked about her patient.
Eden assured her that Beth was well.

"Good."  Ariel sounded relieved.  "I've worried all morning whether or
not anyone remembered she had dialysis today, but I had no way to
contact you."

"She remembered."

"Would you like me to come and take her?"

"Er, no.  I'll be able to take care of Beth by myself fe the immediate
future, so I'm afraid we won't be neec ing your services for the time
being."

There was a long pause, and Eden could swear she felt a cool wind
whistle down the line.

Then Ariel said, "I see."  Not one speck of war mt remained in her
voice.  "I take it you've found a plac to stay?"

"Yes.  I'll be leaving you a check--which will i elude two weeks'
severance--at Valerie's this afternoon.  You can pick it up anytime
after four today."

"Thank you.  That's very generous.  I'll call M: Prescott this evening,
then."  Her tone was a scant tw degrees less chilly.  '"Tell Beth my
thoughts are wit her ."  '

Later, luck was with them.  Not one reporter lurke near the Prescott
house.  The only problem Eden face was convincing David that she could
handle packing h{ and Beth's suitcases without a bodyguard.  "You ha to
collect your own clothes, plus you have patients t check on.  It will
save hours of time if we do these thinl separately, and we can get back
to the lake house b fore dark."

"I don't know, Eden."  He stared out at the hous, "Valerie--"

' "Valerie's less of a worry now.  I'm not afraid of b now that Rose
Hatcher is on the loose and the too: likely suspect.  And I'll be extra
cautious about being followed."

He didn't like it, but her chin was set as hard as co crete, and if
that weren't enough, David knew she would resent his dogging her like a
police guard, treating he as if she couldn't take care of herself.  He
tucked the cellular phone into her hand.  "I've got another in my car.
If anything odd occurs--anything--call."

He waited until the front door of the house swung open before driving
away.

"EDEN?"  Valerie's ginger eyebrows shot up in surprise, but a smirk
brought them back in a flash.  "I knew you'd change your mind about
moving out.  Where's Beth?"

"Dialysis.  And I haven't changed my mind, Val.  I'm here for our
clothes."  Eden swept through the door and hurried to her room.

"For your clothes?"  Valerie had arrived on her heels, out of breath
and huffing like a disgruntled steam engine.  She hovered in the
doorway.  "I can't believe you're actually doing this to me."

And why not?  Eden wondered.  Valerie was willing to believe worse of
her.  Eden spread her Luis Vuitton luggage, last year's Christmas gift
from Peter, on the bed.  "It was inevitable, Val.  You need to accept
that and decide what you want to do about the house."

"Well, I..."  She humphed, damped her mouth shut and stomped off.

Five minutes later, as Eden piled clothes and toilet articles into the
various bags, she glimpsed Valerie once again standing in the doorway.
She gave an exasperated sigh.  "What's the matter, Val?  Worried I'll
take something that belongs to you?"

"No telling what you're capable of."

"May I remind you that everything in this room belongs to me."

"Not Peter' sthings."

"You know what?  You're more than welcome to any and all of Peter's
belongings."

"That's--that's very generous of you."  For the second time, Valerie
left her alone.

Eden finished packing her clothes, loaded her suitcases into the van,
then started on Beth's room.  Oddly she felt a lit He light-headed.
Probably lifting all the bags with only a single slice of toast for
energy.  She shook her head, trying to shake off the sensation.  It
threw her off balance.

She sat on the bed and emptied Beth's underwear into a suitcase.  Then,
drawing a steadying breath, she crossed the room to tackle the closet.
Without warning, the room lurched, and a pit like a black hole seemed
to open at her feet and drag her down.

From some dark well, Eden swore she heard the high screech of a bird
calling her name.  She opened her eyes in a squint.

Valerie knelt beside her, a wild expression on her face.  "My God, you
scared me half to death.  I came in here to see if I could help and
found you facedown on the floor."  '

Eden struggled to a sitting position.  Had she fainted?  She must
have.

Valerie's face was mottled.  "Aren't you eating?"  "Of course I'm
eating."

"Well, people don't faint without reason.  You should see a doctor."

Using the bed for support, Eden hoisted herself to her feet.  "Why do
you care, Val?  You think I murdered Peter."  '

"I don't care."  Valerie backed away.  "It's no skin off my nose."

"Good, because I'm fine."  She was fine.  Great, in fact.  So she'd
fainted.  It meant nothing--nothing important anyway.  She was just
weak from lack of sleep and too much stress.

"Nevertheless, you did faint."  Valerie crossed to the closet and
gathered Beth's clothes as if they were a fat child she was hugging and
carried them to the bed.  When Eden had finished the packing, Valerie
insisted on helping carry the remaining luggage to the van.

Eden reached for the last bag.  Valerie was glancing at the road,
frowning.  "What's she doing here?"

"Who?"  Eden jerked her head toward the street.  A black compact was
rolling to a stop at the corner, too far away now for her to see more
than the red shine of its taft lights

Valerie's frown deepened, but she lifted her head haughtily.  "I
thought that was--" She bit off the words and shoved the last bag at
Eden, the expression in her eyes unfriendly.  "Never mind.  It wouldn't
be the first time I've been mistaken about something..  or some one."

Eden sighed.  "I'll talk to you later, Val."

Valerie headed back into the house, and Eden was grateful to be alone
again.  She drove to Redmond, still feeling weak.

Maybe she should see a doctor.  She had to admit she hadn't felt
especially well lately, but surely nothing much was wrong.  Then why
had she fainted?  A higgling voice inside her head began adding
disturbing symptoms together, and suddenly Eden realized something
might actually be very wrong.

With time to spare before picking Beth up, she pulled into the parking
lot of a strip mall and entered a drugstore.  She was probably wrong,
but there was an easy way to find out.  Feeling self-conscious, she
located the right aisle and perused the shelves, quickly spotting the
item she sought.  She grasped the package and began reading the back of
the box.

Inexplicably a shiver crept down her spine, the same eerie tingling
she'd had in the hospital solarium... as though someone was once again
spying on her.  She cast a sharp glance around.  Two rows in front of
her, she caught sight of carrot red hair behind the shelves.

She stuffed the box she'd been holding onto the shelf in front of her,
logo side forward, then hurried to where she'd seen the redhead.  The
red hair belonged to a clerk stocking shelves--a woman tall enough to
be seen over the top shelf.  Rose Hatcher was supposedly petite.  Like
her.

Eden grinned at herself.  So she was a lousy detective.

She returned to the aisle she'd occupied earlier, to the box she'd been
reading.  Her mouth went dry.  It was back side out.  She'd left it the
other way around.  Apprehension grabbed her.  This time she scanned the
store in all directions.

But no one seemed to be watching her or in a hurry to depart, and
worse, no one looked vaguely familiar.

Willing herself to calm down, she reached for the box, but the oddest
sensation that her nemesis had just handled it made her select the one
beside it.

The self-conscious feeling she'd had entering the store doubled as she
waited in line to purchase the item; she imagined the other customers'
disapproving eyes, their knowing smirks.  And the clerk offered no
relief, moving with the speed of a snail, then taking forever to find
the brown bag she requested for the package.

She crossed the parking lot, mumbling about the convenience of modern
technology not including some way to purchase such personal items in
complete anonymity.  She poked the key in the van's lock.  Her neck
prickled.  Again she felt those prying eyes drilling into her.  Why
couldn't she spot their source?

Trembling, she hopped into the van, locked the doors and moments later
pulled warily into traffic.  But if someone was following, she couldn't
pinpoint him or her.  She picked Beth up at the clinic.  The dialysis
had drained her of energy, and Eden was just as glad she didn't have to
keep up a conversation with Beth during the ride home.

Although she stopped several times and let all the traffic behind them
pass, she couldn't shake the sensation that someone was following them.
She considered calling David but decided there was no sense worrying
him without better cause.  than a "sensation."  Besides, maybe he was
already at the lake house.

But he wasn't, and even getting safely through the gate didn't steady
her nerves.  Leery, Eden entered the house and did a quick search that
culminated in a second-floor bedroom overlooking the back of the lot,
the fence and the road.  No one had followed them.  No one had entered
the house while they were gone.  Relief spilled through her.  They were
safe here.  At least for one more night.

Beth broke into her thoughts.  "I don't want to sleep on that sofa
tonight.  Do you suppose we could have one of these bedrooms?"

"Since we're going to be here for a while, I'd say that was a good
idea.  We just have to make the beds.  There are sheets and blankets in
the linen closet.  Which one do you w ant ?"  '

"The one that overlooks the lake."

"Great.  I want this one."  She glanced again at the back side of the
lot, the fence and the road.

"David can have the one in between us," Beth said.  "Now, if you won't
miss me, I'm going to make my bed and take a nap."

"Sure, go ahead, sweetie.  I'll check on you later."  Eden made up
David's bed and her own, then returned to the van and unloaded the
luggage, finally bringing in her makeup bag and the brown paper sack
she'd purchased at the drugstore.

She entered the big upstairs bathroom, a room done in more oak with a
color scheme of forest green and deep wine.  "She strolled barefoot
over the fluffy rug, turned on the shower, then read and followed the
in-strnctions on the package she'd purchased.

Minutes later she stood, wrapped in a towel, still dripping wet from
her shower, staring at the plastic tip of the tester.

Blue.

She was pregnant.

She sank to the toilet seat, clutching the towel around her.  At least
six weeks along, she realized.  Shock shivered through her.  She
supposed at some other time she'd feel overjoyed, but how could she
now?

She had no way of knowing whether the child's father was David... or
Peter.

An even worse thought struck her.  Who had been watching her in the
drugstore?  Who else knew she might be pregnant?

Chapter Nine

As David left downtown Seattle, the freeway was heavy with the last of
the rash-hour traffic.  He poked Redial on the cellular phone.  It was
a quarter past six.  He'd tried calling Eden twice since leaving the
hospital ten minutes earlier and he was starting to worry.

She answered on the second ring, her voice sending a rush of relief
through him.  Tapping his brake, he eased into the adjoining lane.
'"Where are you?"

"The lake house."

He breathed easier.  "Everything went smoothly, then?"

"As silk."  Something in her tone belied her words, rekindling his
worry.

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

David wasn't convinced.  "No one followed you home?"

"No.  Believe me, I made triple certain."

"That's my girl."  Why, then, did she sound upset?  Not that knowing
Rose Hatcher was on the loose didn't have his nerves twisted, but Eden
had shown no signs of distress when he'd left her at Valerie's.  Had
Valerie done something to rattle her?

Eden interrupted the thought.  "We've established where I am, what
about you?"

"I'm near my house here in town.  I was longer at the hospital than I'd
anticipated.  But I should be with you in about an hour, hour and a
half at most."

"Will you call me back when you leave there?"

He hesitated.  Was that what had her worried--that something would
happen to him at his house?  It made sense.  "I'll call as soon as I
start out."

Deciding he should heed her concerns, he dropped the phone on the
passenger seat and drove down his street studying every parked car.  He
knew his neighbors' vehicles by sight, and there wasn't one he couldn't
identify.

His attention shifted to his house.  It sprawled on the corner lot like
a sleeping Tyrannosaurus rex, its pale clapboard skin lifeless in the
harsh afternoon sun.  A shiver worked down his spine, and he wondered
at his fanciful thoughts.  It was only a house, not a monster lying in
wait for him.

He parked the car, then headed to his mailbox and scooped out two days'
worth of bills.  Inside, the house smelled stale, closed up.  He
carried the mail to the bedroom he'd set up as a home office and dumped
it on the cluttered desk that he'd arranged in the center of the room
facing the window.  Afternoon sunlight filtered through the ivory
miniblinds, lifting dust motes from the oak floor.

The blinker on his answering.  machine told him he had three calls.
He'd check them later.  Right now he wanted a shower and some clean
clothes.

Minutes later, hot water pouring over his skin, he thought of Eden and
the awful mess h'd dragged her into.  She deserved better.  But guilt
was far from all he felt for Eden.  The long' rag to make love to her
was both an aching physical need and a spiritual desire to con-neet
their souls.  He couldn't do anything about the second need, but the
first was controllable.  He shifted the nozzle until cold water
streamed from the spout, cooling his passion, chilling his body.

Shivering, he turned off the water, dried and dressed.  He gathered his
soiled clothes into a damp towel, carried it to the hamper and dropped
the bundle inside.  It hit the empty bottom with a thump that jarred
loose a memory.  There ought to be a green polo shirt at the bottom of
the hamper.  It wasn't there now.  Had he washed it and forgot tenT

He shook his head, unable to tee all The hell with that now.
More-pressing matters than a dirty shirt deserved his attention.  But
as he shaved and combed his hair, it occurred to him there was
something important that he ought to recall; try as he might, it eluded
him.

In his bedroom, he pulled his gym bag from the closet and plunked it
onto his unmade bed.  Immediately his memories of sharing this bed with
Eden shoved other images and concerns from his head, sp'waling his
desire for her to new heights.  He stood transfixed, recalling every
delicate inch of her, reliving every shattering pleasure she'd given
him, realizing he was seriously in love.

The house creaked.  David jerked, glancing instinctively toward the
open door and into the hallway beyond.  Had he heard a footstep?  Or
just one of the settling groans the house often made?  His heart
hammered against his ribs.  A second passed.  Then two.  No one leapt
out to startle him, and he laughed at himself.  He was frittering away
pr ious time scaring up ghosts that didn't exist and mooning about Eden
when he could be with her.

He stuffed enough clothes in the gym bag for a few days; the lake house
had a washer and dryer if their stay stretched beyond that.  Packed and
ready, he rechecked the house, assuring himself that windows and doors
were locked.

In his home office, he hitched his hip on his desk, caught up the
telephone receiver and called Eden again.  "Hi.  I'm on my way."

"Oh, good."  A relieved sigh rushed down the line and into his ear. "Be
careful."

Her voice still held that shaken quality.  He scram bled for a reason.
"How's Beth?"

"Tired.  She's napping."

Eden had to be exhausted, too.  Perhaps that was producing the quavery
tone in her voice.  "You know, that sounds like a great idea.  Maybe
you should rest awhile, too."

"Maybe I will."

"And don't worry about dinner.  I'll bring something."

He hung up and punched the Rewind button on his answering machine,
absently glancing at the mail he'd brought in.  A plain white,
legal-size envelope with typed lettering and no return address caught
his attention.  He tugged open the top desk drawer and scanned its
contents.  Where was the letter opener Colleen had given him?  The
thing was solid brass and resembled a Spanish dagger in shape and
size.

It was usually easy to spot.

It wasn't there.  Damn.  What had he done with it?  He banged the
drawer shut and picked through the mess on his desk, but a voice
issuing from his answering machine paralyzed his limbs.

"Please, pick up the phone.  Dr.  Coulter, please.  You have to help
me.  I swear I didn't kill Marianne.  Please,

pick up the phone!"

Rose Hatcher.

Cold sweat broke over David's body.  As if in slow motion, he pivoted.
His gaze was riveted on the black box emitting the hated voice.  His
pulse thundered in his ears.

"Please, Dr.  Coulter.  I'm innocent."

Her voice jarred his senses like the keening of a wounded animal,
dredging to memory the reporter claiming that Rose had recanted her
confession.  The machine rolled to the next message.  Also from Rose.
As was the third.  With each her frustration increased... as did her
demands to know where he was.

David rammed his trembling hand through his hair and swore.  When had
she called?  His machine wasn't one that automatically recorded the
time calls were received.

He listened to the tape two more times.  She sounded so sincere.  He
recalled the kind of student she'd been, and his old doubts surfaced.
Was he wrong about her?  Was she innocent?  His faltering confidence in
his ability to judge people niggled him.  Maybe he was a fool to doubt.
Either way, he couldn't risk Eden's life.

He disconnected the answering machine and wound the cord around it. Did
the phone company have records of incoming calls?  He didn't know. But
it was certain Kollecki couldn't dismiss this tape.  It was proof Rose
Hatcher wasn't in California.

As he started out of his office, an awful thought struck him, and he
cursed again.  He'd changed his home phone number after Rose's trial.
How had she gotten his new number?  It was unlisted.

His gut clenched.  The only way she could have gotten his telephone
number was if she'd somehow gotten into his house.  But that was
impossible... wasn't it?

He thought again of the missing polo shirt, and the hair on his nape
lifted.  He darted a glance over his shoulder, suddenly uneasy in his
own home Was he alone?  Had he, after all, heard a footstep earlier?
Hell, why hadn't he changed the locks when he'd changed his phone
number?

EDEN AWAKENED from her nap to find the house dark and the hour nearing
ten.  She sprang up on the bed and immediately went to the windows.
Worry squirmed through her.  Where was David?  His car was not parked
out back beside her van.  Why hadn't he called?

She turned to the telephone lying on the bedside table.  As she started
toward it, it rang.  Eden jumped, then quickly answered it.  "David?"

He assured her it was indeed him, then apologised for not calling
sooner but said that he was okay and would explain what had happened
when he arrived, which should be in the next two minutes.

She was downstairs when his headlights swept across the living-room
windows.  As glad as Eden was that he was safe and sound and here, she
dreaded facing him... armed with the knowledge of her pregnancy.

Not that she intended to tell him.  Not yet, anyway.  It was still too
new to her.  Too unexpected.  She had to get used to the idea herself
before sharing it with anyone.

With his entrance, he brought the sense-tangling fragrance of his
cologne and the mouth-watering aroma of Mexican food.  Her stomach
growled in anticipation, and Eden found she was actually famished.

Further proof of her condition.  Sick in the morning, ravenous at
night--symptoms she'd heard described by mothers-to-be at baby showers
she'd attended in the good old days when she'd had girlfriends.  Before
Peter.  How she longed for a close female friend she could turn to at
times like these, someone who understood her fears and the secret joy
she felt--despite not knowing who the father was or what the future
held--for the new life growing within her.

Fearing that joy would somehow be conveyed in her eyes or her
expression, Eden kept her face averted as she took the bags of food
from him and carried them into the kitchen.

David followed, going to the cupboards and bringing plates and
silverware to the table.  "Beth still asleep?"

"Yes, I'll wake her in a few minutes."  Eden pulled the containers from
the sacks and glanced at the man she loved.  There was an easiness
between them similar to what her parents had shared.  This was the home
life she'd longed for and never had.

His green eyes turned toward her, and she realized she was fooling
herself.  This was a false comfort--as fragile as the containers
holding their food.  "Are you going to tell me what kept you?"

He grew thoughtful, and Eden tensed, knowing instinctively that the
delay had had something to do with Rose.

"I went to see Kollecki."  David expected this news to jar Eden.

Instead, her only visible reaction was a slight lift of her eyebrows...
as if she didn't care.  "What about?"

He disliked the lines of tension around her eyes.  Had she slept?  Or
had something kept her awake?  "Are you sure nothing happened to upset
you today?"

Eden nearly spilled the fried rice she was scooping onto her plate.
Should she tell him about the drugstore stalker?  No.  Then she'd have
to explain what she'd been doing at the drugstore.  "Nothing, I
swear."

Why didn't he believe her?  He arched an eyebrow and studied her
precious face, but she didn't look at him, concentrating instead on
filling her plate as if it were some lifesaving task.

Apparently she had no intention of telling him whatever it was.  Well,
he could be patient.  He filled his own plate, then started again where
he'd left off.  "I went to see Kollecki because after I talked to you,
I played the three messages on my answering machine.  All were from
Rose Hatcher."

Eden's head snapped up, her preoccupation momentarily forgotten.  She
scowled.  "I knew it had something to do with her.  What did she
want?"

Between bites of food, he explained about changing his home phone
number and that he'd concluded Rose could only have gotten his number
by somehow gaining entrance or access to his house and looking at the
telephone.

"Or maybe," Beth began as she strolled into the room.  Although it was
obvious that she wasn't feeling one hundred percent, she did appear
rested.  "Maybe she got the number somehow from your office at the
medical center."

He hadn't thought of that.  "I'd prefer that to images of her wandering
my house."

Eden glanced up from her plate.  "What did Kollecki say when he heard
the tape?"

David grimaced.  "His first reaction was that she could have called
from California.  But when I told him about changing my phone number
after her trial and that she'd have no way of getting my new number if
she were in California, he looked as if he had a mouthful of sour
grapes."  '

Beth laughed.  Eden barely cracked a smile.  David wanted to pull her
close and ease whatever worry had her in its grip.  At least her
appetite seemed to have returned.  He decided now was not the time to
mention that what had probably made Kollecki listen was his missing
shirt and letter opener.

Beth.  insisted on hearing about the answering-machine tape, and as
David repeated his story, Eden caressed her stomach with tenderness.
How long before she would show?  How long before this pregnancy would
no longer be her secret?  She frowned as she chewed her enchilada.  The
most worrisome thought was that Rose already knew about the baby.  Eden
shuddered inside.  What would that knowledge mean to Rose?

Panic seized her.  Maybe she should just leave.  Disappear in the
night.  But how could she?  Rose Hatcher was out there, waiting for her
to make a wrong move.  To panic.  And panic was Eden's enemy as much as
Rose was.

"Eden, are you okay?"  Beth asked.

Eden started from the thoughts and glanced at Beth.  "I'm fine,
sweetie.  Just a little tired."

She didn't want either of them studying her too closely at the moment.
She shifted her gaze to David and made an effort to contribute to the
conversation.  "What's Kollecki going to do?"

"He contacted the King County police, and starting tonight, they'll
watch my house."

"Are they going to protect us, too?"  Beth's appetite was also better
than it had been this morning.  She focused on David for an answer.

He shook his head."  "And admit he was wrong about Eden?"

"Why is he so intractable?  The police are supposed to protect innocent
people."

Eden sighed.  "Tenacity is a good attribute in a cop--unless you're the
target of that tenacity.  And Kollecki doesn't think I'm innocent."

A new fear slithered through Eden.  What would happen to her baby if
Kollecki somehow managed to put her back in jail?  The urge to take off
for parts unknown clutched her anew.  But one glance at her sister and
she knew she'd never try running away.  Until Beth had her new kidney,
she was as trapped as a rat in a laboratory maze.  One wrong turn and
Rose Hatcher would pounce.

David shoved his plate aside.  "Let's look on the bright side.  With
the police watching my house, if Rose shows up, she'll be caught."

Beth's eyes rounded.  "Do you really think she'll be caught that
easily?"

Eden smiled wryly.  "I agree.  Life is seldom that simple."  Besides,
David wasn't taking everything into account.  "You said Rose recanted
her confession."

"Yes."  He nodded, then told her that the reporter at the hospital had
mentioned it to him even before he'd heard it for himself.

"Kollecki says it's a ploy.  According to him, every prisoner claims
they were wrongly convicted."

"I suppose."  Eden wondered.  She was innocent and, above all else, she
had to prove it.  Could Rose Hatcher feel the same?  As farfetched as
it seemed, could Rose also be innocent?  Eden dropped her napkin onto
her plate, stood and began gathering the dirty dishes.

David scooted back in his chair and stretched.  Something in his pants
pocket poked his hipbone.  He withdrew a long white envelope, frowning.
"What the... ?"

Then he recalled.  This was the letter he'd been about to open at his
house when he'd heard the message from Rose.

"What's that?"  Beth peered over his shoulder.  "Don't know.  Came in
the mail.  No return address, but it was mailed in Seattle."  He pried
the flap up at one corner, then jerked his finger through the top of
the envelope, ripping it jaggedly.  It contained a single slip of pink
stationery paper with a white rose embossed along the top edge.

Beth gasped.  Eden turned from the sink, her alarm telescoping across
the room.  David smoothed the paper with tremulous fingers, his mouth
as dry as the torn envelope.

The typewritten message was short and to the point.

David darling,

How can you cast my love aside as though it means nothing to you?  I
beg of you, please, come to your senses.  Give up on Eden... before
it's too late!!!

The heat drained from his face.  Every time he felt as if the woman
would be caught and out of their lives forever, she reappeared like
some evil apparition.

Tm WOMA her car swiftly past the street-lights on the Mercer Island
road.  Had David gotten her note yet?  He was being stubborn.  But she
would give him a little more time.  Not much, though.  A couple of
days.  After that he would have no one to blame but himself.  His life,
his destiny, his future, were in his hands.  If he made the wrong
choice, sadly he would pay the price.

She passed his street and parked one block over.  It was after ten, the
night as warm and dark as her thoughts of David.  She was dressed
entirely in black leather, the clothing sticking to her skin with a
layer of sweat, but she didn't care.  She felt as elusive as a shadow.
Knowing she was nearly undetectable, she slipped silently into the
dense shrubbery and tripped along the shortcut she'd discovered last
year that emerged directly across from David's house.

She left the path and checked the road for prying eyes.  No one seemed
to be nosing about.  Her attention shifted to David's house.  A single
night-light glowed in the kitchen window--a little beacon, inviting.
She grinned, tempted... perhaps if David were home, she would use her
key and go inside, join him in his bed, let him make glorious love to
her.

The sound of a car passing nearby sent her ducking back into the trees.
How could she let herself lose control?  This was not a night for
fantasies.  The car and its occupants pulled into the garage of the
house next to David's.  The moment peace again reigned over the
neighborhood, she zipped across the street, ran to a corner of David's
house, pressed her body against the rough siding.

But she couldn't chase the questions from her head.  Where was David?
With Eden, no doubt.  An image of Eden filled her head, and fury seared
her insides.  What had that witch been doing looking at home pregnancy
tests?

All afternoon she'd had to deal with the awful possibility that Eden
was pregnant with David's child.  Again the horrid thought resounded
through her head.  The woman jammed her gloved palms against her ears
to shut out the awful roaring.

She was going to have David's children.  No one else.  She drew a
ragged breath.  Unless David made a wrong choice.  Then no one would be
having his children.  Tears filled her eyes, and a sob filled her
chest.  No.  That possibility was too sad to consider.  He would come
to his senses.

She would just have to get rid of Eden permanently.  And she knew
exactly how to draw her out of hiding.  A sly grin tugged at the woman
is mouth but quickly fled as she thought how close she'd come to Eden
today.  Too bad that other interfering witch had looked right at her as
she'd cruised the street.

Satisfaction brought the grin back.  Such a small annoyance was no
match for her.  She had taken bigger risks, rid this world of bigger
pests.  The woman shoved the thought aside and crept closer to the
porch, hugging the shadows near the house.

Across the street, a dog began to bark.  She froze.  Her chest squeezed
with fear.

A man shouted, "Shut up!"

The dog's yapping ceased.

Weak in the knees, she closed the gap to the porch.  She pulled the
delicate item from her purse, laid it on the welcome mat and hurried
off the way she'd come.

An hour later, a King County patrolman shone his flashlight across the
front of David's house, caught sight of something on the front stoop
and walked closer.  In the beam of his light was a single white rose.

Chapter Ten

"Warm night."  David approached Eden cautiously.  After cleaning the
kitchen and seeing that Beth made it to bed, she'd been preoccupied.
She'd wandered out to the deck about half an hour ago.  Deciding she
needed to sort out whatever was bothering her, he'd left her alone. But
the night was too inviting to stay indoors.  "Hard to believe September
is only a week away, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh," she murmured, glancing up at the sky.  At half past midnight,
the full moon hovered overhead like a huge spotlight surrounded by
twinkling stars and cast a luminous glow across the water.

Boyhood memories of summers spent swimming in this lake late at night
with James and Great-Uncle Harry stirred in David.  He set his coffee
cup on the picnic table and joined Eden on the wooden bench, sitting
backward so he could look at the lake.

She glanced over at him and smiled.  "It's so quiet here ma person
could almost get lost in the peacefulness of it."

He leaned his elbows on the table, his back pressed to its edge, and
listened to the night sounds, the distant croaking of frogs and the
occasional muted splash of a fish or an otter.  "When Great-Uncle Harry
was alive, James and I used to spend a week or two every summer out
here.  Camping on the lawn.  Skinny-dipping after midnight."

"Lucky you.  My family's idea of a summer holiday was a week or two in
some big city, touring every museum and historical monument we could
pack into our schedule.  The closest we came to nudity was a Gangin."
The regret in her voice tugged at his heart.

He quirked an eyebrow at her.  "You mean to say you've never gone
skinny-dipping?"

Eden looked amused.  ""Fraid not."

"Of course.  That explains your stunted psyche.  Fortunately we can
remedy the problem fight now."  He caught her by the arm, lifting her
to her feet.  "Come on ."  '

"Where?"

"To the lake, of course."

"David," she protested, struggling to free herself from his grasp. "Get
serious."

"I am serious.  Seriously crazy about you."  He stopped and pulled her
against him.

Her head gently collided with his solid midriff.  The warmth of his
body was welcome, reassuring, loving.  She circled her arms around his
narrow waist.  He lowered his head until his lips hovered a breath away
from her ear.  "Come swim with me, my love?"

Awash in the wonderful feel of him, Eden laughed and a titillating
thrill whisked through her, brushing the dark worries from her mind.
Somehow he always made her cares less weighty, always made her smile.
"Won't it be cold?"

"Cold?  Naw, let's say... refreshing."

The thought of actually doing something so decadent, so impulsive, so
freeing, kindled a fire in her, an urge to rebel against the
conventions that heretofore she'd followed her whole life.  And why
not?  Swimming wouldn't hurt the baby, and she had nothing else to
lose... except for some long-lamented inhibitions.  "Last one in is a
dirty duck."

She shoved out of his arms and scurried down the six steps that led off
the deck to the lawn.  They ran to the dock like small children, their
laughter echoing off the lake.  But as David began disrobing, Eden had
second thoughts.  "Does James have any nosy neighbors?"  "None.  You
aren't chickening out, are you?"  "Chicken?  I might be modest, but I'm
no chicken."  She was, however, amazed at the lack of
self-consciousness she felt around David.  She shed her skirt and
blouse, then her bra and lastly her panties.  David did a cannonball
into the lake and came up spitting water, letting out a loud "Yahoo!"

Eden dipped her toe into the water.  It was definitely cool in the warm
night air, but not as bad as she'd thought it would be.  She took a
deep breath and eased off the dock, making a small splash and emitting
a squeal of happiness.

David laughed delightedly, the sound bouncing off the water and into
her heart.  "Did I promise you refreshing?"

"It feels so weird, so wonderful."  Eden laughed and swam toward him,
draping her arms around his neck when she reached him, reveling in the
warmth of his body.  Her tender, taut nipples encountered his solid
chest, and a delicious tingle shot through her, igniting a fierce
hunger deep in her core that sent shards of desire spiraling through
her.

David responded in kind, his own desire sleek and hot and hard against
her belly.  She cupped his face in both of her hands.  His eyes
glistened with passion and tenderness as soft in the moonlight as
iridescent candles.  He bent his mouth to hers, murmuring her name,
holding them afloat with his powerful legs.

His kiss melted her insides, heating her chilled body like a tube of
boiling liquid glass that begged for him to mold her to his whims.  His
hands slicked over her wet skin, driving her passion higher, and when
he reached one hand between her legs, finding the delicate center, his
finger slid easily into her.

She released a small cry of pleasure against his ear.  "Oh, David, I've
missed being with you."

"Me, too, love."  His voice grazed her senses with its huskiness.

He gathered her thighs and lifted her legs over his hips, lowering her
onto his rigid shaft.  She cried out in joy as their bodies became one
and locked her legs behind his back, instantly caught in his wondrous
water ballet, pirouetting, lifting and gliding, weightless and serene,
a ballet whose choreography bespoke legends as old and mystical as
mermaids and mermen.

Their heads dipped below the surface, then broke through the water into
the glorioUS night.  Eden laughed breathlessly.  David laughed, too,
then his mouth was on hers again, and the dance began in earnest.

The water splashed with every lift, with every downward thrust, special
music written just for this moment, played only for their ears.  The
tide era shed and ebbed, harder and faster until at last it burst
across the shores of their souls and spilled their joy into the night
air, echoing sweetly across the lake.

David released her and sank below the surface again, then came slowly
out of the water and grinned at her.  "My God, you're incredible."

"No, my darling, you are the incredible one."  She swam closer and
dragged her fingers slowly from his temple to his jaw.  The wonder in
his eyes humbled her and filled her with the knowledge that this man
loved her as she loved him.  Emotion overwhelmed her, sap-ping her
strength.  "I think we ought to get out of the water.  My stamina is
depleted."

He lifted her onto the dock, then pulled himself up beside her.  They
sat on his slacks, both a bit breathless.

David traced a finger along the edge of her kneecap.  "Well, what do
you think about skinny-dipping?"

Eden covered his hand with hers and grinned up at him.  "If it's always
this wonderful, I'm sorry I took so long to try it."

"Just don't try it like this with anyone else."  He caught her against
him, kissed her lightly on the mouth, then held her a moment longer.
But the air was now cooler than the water and goose bumps rose on her
delicate arms.  "We should probably go inside."

As they started for the house, Eden's mind returned to the baby.  She
should tell David now, while things were so wonderful between them. But
how would he react when she told him she wasn't certain whether or not
he was the father?  She couldn't bear the thought of hurting him.
Disappointing him.  Besides, she wanted this special evening to remain
intact, wanted to hold it in her heart a while longer.  But tomorrow
she would have to tell him.

THE MORNING DAWNED to cloudy skies and the threat of rain.  Eden lifted
her head off the pillow, and her stomach heaved.  She hurried to the
bathroom, realizing she wouldn't have to tell David anything if he
heard her being sick every morning.  If she kept refusing breakfast of
any kind.

She dressed in blue jeans and a cornflower blue fisherman's sweater
that hung to her hips.  She fussed with her hair and covered her pallor
with a light layer of makeup and rouge, then relinquished the bathroom
to Beth.

David was at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and munching toast.  He
wore black Levi's and a forest green sweatshirt that accented the green
of his eyes.  His chocolate hair lay neat against his head, a lock
stealing over his high brow.  He glanced up at her, a smile lighting
his handsome face.

Her heart quickened, and memories of last night swirled through her
mind.  But she reined them in.  She had to tell him about the baby.
Now.  While Beth was showering.  Her palms felt damp.  "Hi, there."

"Hi, there, yourself."  He started to stand.  "Want some coffee?"

"No, thanks."  She motioned him back into his seat and took the one
opposite.  She had to see his face as she told him.  She drew a
steadying breath and folded her hands on the table in front of her.
"David, I--"

The ring' rag of his cellular phone cut her off.  She sank back in the
chair as he answered.

"Dr.  Coulter."  There was a pause.  David heard breathing and for a
tense second wondered if Rose Hatcher had somehow gotten his cell phone
number.

But he was wrong.  "Coulter.  This is Detective Kol-lecki."

The man hadn't needed him to identify himself.  The "Coulter" had been
enough.  David was getting to know and dread that voice.

"What's up, Detective?"  David glanced at Eden, seeing the slight
tensing of her body.  He reached across the table and placed his hand
over hers.

Kollecld said, "I was wondering if you and Mrs.  Prescott could come to
the station this morning."

"Why?"  He sat straighter.  Was this good news?  "Did the King County
cops find Rose at my house?"

"I don't know that they found anything at your house."  Kollecki
sounded as if he didn't know what David was talking about.  "This is
another matter altogether."

David frowned and pulled his hand from Eden's.  What game was Kollecld
playing now?  "Why don't you just tell me what it is now and save us
the hassle?"

"Not over the telephone, sir."  Kollecki paused.  "Could you make it by
eleven?"

An hour from now.  David let out an exasperated breath.  "Fine.  We'll
be there."

He disconnected.  A bad feeling churned through his gut and crept along
his nerves.

"what?"  Eden's mouth stretched thin, her eyes rounding with dread.

Was she responding to his expression?  He shook off his worried scowl,
shifted in his chair and caught her hands again.  "I don't know.  He
wouldn't say.  He wants us in Issaquah by eleven."

But he realized Eden was neither calmed nor fooled by his "bedside
manner."  She knew him too well.  As if her sweater was suddenly
inefficient at abating the chill in the air, she hugged herself. "Maybe
I should call my attorney."

"Whoa.  Let's see what this is about first."  He raised his hands,
palms toward her, in a slow-down gesture.  Her suggestion might inflame
the situation unnecessarily.  "You can always call from the station, if
need be.  But I don't think we should jump to conclusions.  Especially
awful ones.  For all we know, it's nothing more than something about
the tape from my answering machine.

"Unless--" his face brightened "--unless Rose has been captured, and
Kollecki wants to apologize to you in person."

"I don't think I'll hold my breath."  But she had to admit it would be
a sweet ending to the hell Kollccki had put her through the past seven
weeks.

The sound of the shower shutting off upstairs brought home another
concern.

"What about Beth?  I don't want her at the police station, and I don't
like leaving her alone when we aren't sure how long we'll be."

"My darling mother hen, your chick is twenty-three.  We'll leave her
the other cell phone.  She can call if she needs us.  Or if the
hospital contacts her about a donor."  '

Eden nodded, chagrined.  She couldn't help mothering Beth; she'd raised
her since she was fourteen.  Would she ever let Beth grow up all the
way?

But Beth was already halfway there.  And when they told her the news,
Beth was more concerned about what Kollecki wanted with Eden and David
than about staying alone.  David told her he was certain it had to do
with the tape he'd taken to Kollecki yesterday.  That seemed to satisfy
her.

"You'd better get going, then.  And don't frown, Eden.  I'll be fine,"
Beth assured her.  "I have my beeper, and I don't plan to do anything
more strenuous than feeding the ducks and reading my book and resting.
Pretty harmless pastimes."

IF ONLY KOLLECKI WERE harmless, Eden thought as he met them in the
waiting area.  His red hair hadn't its usual sheen, and his dark eyes
seemed lost in the crevices of skin at their edges, as if he'd been up
for hours or hadn't slept at all the night before.  She hoped his
conscience over what he'd done to her was directly responsible for any
loss of sleep the man had suffered.

He ushered them through the locked doors that led to the jail, and Eden
shuddered, recalling the awful nights she'd spent here and at the King
County facility.  They followed him past his office and toward the
interrogation room Eden had been questioned in that first morning after
learning of Peter's murder.

The door bumped open, and Ariel Bell stumbled out into the hallway.
Twin blotches of red stung her otherwise ashen face.  Mascara smudged
both eyes l'fice jagged black bruises.  Seeing David and Eden, she
sobbed, "Oh, God.  She was just lying there.  I thought at first she'd
tripped and spilled coffee... or something.  But when I bent to help
her, I saw--I saw..."  Her fisted hand fluttered to her mouth, and she
slped back, right smack into Detective Tagg.  "It was blood."

"What are you talking about?"  Eden gripped David's arm.

Ron Tagg said, "Please, Ms.  Bell, let us handle this."  "What?  Oh, of
course, I'm sorry."  Ariel's face grew thoughtful, and she dredged up
an apologetic half smile.  "I guess I'm still in shock.  Not that I
haven't seen dead bodies--"

"D-dead--" Eden r'ded.

"Whose body?"  David demanded.

"Please."  Kollecki pointed toward the interrogation room.  "If you and
Mrs.  Prescott would just go inside, I'll explain."

David started to protest, but Kollecki's face was redder than chili
powder, The detective didn't like others stealing his control of a
situation, and Ariel had knocked him momentarily out of the driver's
seat.

Confusion and alarm made Eden's eyes as wide as blue lakes.  David
guided her past the others and into the interrogation room.

Kollecki heaved his large shoulders.  "Tagg, see to it someone takes
Ms.  Bell home."

Kollecki shut the door behind them and released a loud breath.  "Please
sit down."

Eden dropped Onto one of the plastic chairs, but David's patience was
gone.  He grasped the back on the chair next to Eden.  "You tell us
right now what the hell is going on, Kollecki."

The red started rising in the detective's face again.  "Eden reached up
and gripped David's hand.  "Whose body was Ariel talking about?"  Her
voice held none of the strength of her grip.

Detective Tagg stepped quietly into the room.  For the first time,
David realized the creases around Tagg's eyes were as etched as
Kollecki's.  "Does this have something to do with Rose Hatcher?"

Tagg shook his head.  "Not that we're aware of."

"Who, then?"  David's impatience echoed in the concrete-block room.

Kollecki leaned on the table, his palms flat, his gaze settled
studiously on Eden.  "Valerie Prescott.  Ms.  Bell found her around
six-thirty this morning... when she arrived to pick up a check she says
you left there for her."

Eden's chest squeezed.  "Valerie is... ?"

David covered her hand with his and stared at Tagg.  Tagg nodded.  "I'm
afraid she's dead."  Eden gasped.

David shook his head.  "D-dead?"

"But she seemed fine when I left yesterday," Eden whispered, disbelief
spinning through her.  "How?  What happened?"

Kollecki narrowed his eyes at her.  "She was murdered."

Eden's hand went to her mouth.  Suddenly she remembered Ariel ranting
about blood.  "Shot, like Peter?"

"No."  Tagg ran his hand over his silver crew cuL "Stabbed."

"But like your husband's murder, the weapon is once again missing from
the crime scene."  Kollecki shifted his gaze to David.  "The M.E. says
it was something with a blade duller than a knife... but shaped like a
dagger."

David's eyes widened.  "You think she was killed with my letter
opener?"

Kollecki stepped back, adopting an innocent expression that immediately
brought to mind a benevolent Santa.  "I didn't say that, but I have to
wonder why you brought it up."

"You implied it."

Kollecki wiped his whiskered jaw with his hand.  "From where I'm
sitting, it sounds to me as if you'd like me to believe it.  You the
one who claims you had such a letter opener.  The one who claims it's
missing."

"Claims?"

"Well, look at it from my point of view, Doc.  I have no proof that it
was stolen.  Only your word."

"There are far too many coincidences in this case for you to keep
ignoring," David growled between clenched teeth.

"See, that's the thing about coincidences--in my experience, most of
them aren't."

David drew in a steadying breath.  Kollecki wasn't a fool, just dogged.
There had to be some way of convincing him to consider even the
unproved evidence.

"My letter openers missing, but--" David broke off and reappraised the
hard glint in the cop's small, dark eyes.  "Are you accusing me of
killing Valerie Prescott?"

"I'm not charging anyone at this juncture."

Tagg intervened.  "We do need to know where you both were between three
and eight yesterday after noon."

"If you can alibi each other," Kollecki said, his smile cold, "then you
don't have anything to worry about, do you?"

Eden glanced at David, regretting her insistence that they run their
errands separately yesterday.  David could account for his time until
around six.  But although she'd spoken to him after that, he'd called
from his cell phone, and she realized with sickening clarity that he
could have been calling from anywhere.

She had no better alibi.  She could account for her time from
five-thirty on, but earlier she'd been alone, driving and at the
drugstore.  Would that snail of a salesclerk recall her asking for the
brown paper bag?

David patted her arm.  "Don't say another word.  Not without your
attorney."

"You might want to call a lawyer, too, Dr.  Coulter," Tagg said.

Kollecki glared at his partner.  Tagg would likely get a dressing-down
later, but right now David was in the hot seat.

"I checked with King County after I talked to you this morning."
Kollecki's voice was deceptively soft.  "It seems a patrolman found a
white rose on your porch last night."

David blanched.

Kollecki folded his hands over his belly.  "I know you'd have me
believe some woman left it after killing Ms.  Prescott, but I have to
ask myself what proof there is of that.  What proof is there that you
didn't leave it there yourself, Doc?"

David bit down his fury, clamping his mouth shut, knowing Kollecki was
purposefully provoking him, was hoping he'd say something
incriminating.  "I'd like to call my lawyer."

Kollecki didn't like it, but he respected the law too much to deny them
their rights.  Eden called her attorney and then Beth and told her this
would take longer than they'd originally thought, stalling Beth's
questions by promising she'd explain when she got home.

While she waited for her attorney, Eden was kept separated from David.
Her head ached, and her body felt numb.  She hadn't been fond of
Valerie, but her murder shocked and saddened Eden.

She felt better having her lawyer present as she gave her statement and
better yet when she was allowed to leave and was reunited with David.
The dark clouds overhead leaked the first few raindrops as they hurried
hand in hand to his car.

Neither noticed the black compact pull out of the busy parking lot two
cars behind them.

Chapter Eleven

David and Eden left Issaquah in silence, the car's tires slurping over
the rain-bathed road, punctuating the tension inside the vehicle.  The
past few hours had left Eden numb, drained and awash in questions.

"Maybe you should call Beth," David interrupted her thoughts.  "Let her
know we're on our way."

"I should have done that first thing.  She's probably wondering why
we're so late."  She hit the Redial button on the cellular phone and
listened to the beeps as the call was put through.  The phone rang and
rang.  Eden crooked her head at David "That's odd.  She's not
answering.  Where could she be?"

"In the bathroom?  Asleep?"  David grinned wryly and patted her leg.
"Out feeding the ducks?"

"In the rain?"

"It might not be raining at the lake yet."

"That's true."  Eden pursed her lips.  "I'm mother-henning again,
aren't I?"  "Who can blame you?"

She knew he was referring to what they'd just learned about Valerie,
but she appreciated his consideration in not saying it aloud.  She
didn't want to talk about Val.  Didn't want to think about telling
Beth.  Or how devastated Beth would be.  Hell, she didn't want to think
about Val, period.  Not dead.  Murdered.  But she couldn't seem to
stop.  "David, what was all that business about your letter opener?"

"I should have told you last night."  His mouth stretched into a tight
line, and a muscle jumped in his neck.  She knew the possibility that
his letter opener had been used to kill Valerie was eating at him.  He
sighed, then explained how he'd discovered it was missing.  Along with
his shirt.  "Kollecki was right.  I can't prove either was stolen.  I
couldn't even find where anyone had broken into my house."

A chilling idea struck Eden.  "Could Rose have a key?"

"I admit that crossed my mind.  I'm having the locks changed as soon as
possible."  He clicked the windshield wipers from intermittent to
constant.  "In fact, I've given Rose a lot of thought and I can't
understand why she would kill Valerie.  Shannon and Marianne fit a
pattern consistent with her obsession disorder, but Valerie doesn't."

Eden's insides were a mass of jelly.  He'd hit on something that had
also been nagging her for the past hour.  Motive.  What could Rose have
had against Valerie?  Why would anyone murder her?  "I had Val at the
top of our suspect list before we learned about Rose's escape.  I could
see Val as a woman intent on vengeance, a woman obsessed with men she
couldn't have, but not as the victim in this."

"Are we overlooking something?"

"Oh, I don't know."  Eden sighed and leaned against the car seat,
closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

A memory jerked her upright.  Her eyes flew open, and the seat belt dug
into her tender breasts.  "Yester day, when Val helped me carry Beth's
bags to the van, she said something odd."

"What?"  Hope etched the single word.

Eden squeezed her eyes shut, trying to recall exactly.  "She said,
"What is she doing here?""

"And she didn't say who this 'she' was?"

"No.  She dismissed it.  But I followed the direction of her gaze to a
black compact at the corner Stop sign.  It was too far away and the
windows were so darkly tinted, I couldn't see who was driving.  Could
it have been Rose?"  '

"Did Valerie know what Rose looked like?"

Eden thought back.  "Yes.  She went to her trial a couple of times."

The news surprised him.  "I didn't see her there."

"I think she went because it had something to do with you."

He glanced away, uncomfortable with this knowledge.  He was quiet for a
moment, then said, "I can't believe the woman Valerie saw was Rose.
Valerie was present at the hospital when that reporter told me Rose had
escaped from jail.  Val would never have so lightly dismissed spotting
an escaped convict in her neighborhood."

"Never."  The implication chilled Eden.  "Not Valerie."

"If she didn't see Rose, then who?"  He didn't like it.  His doubts of
Rose sprang up like a patch of bothersome weeds he could no longer
ignore.  "If only I could find Rose and talk to her."

The rain suddenly came down from the sky as violently and loudly as
darts hitting the car.  Eden's head pounded in a similar rhythm.  She
stared through the blinding downpour, forcing her mind to focus on the
heavy traffic, on motorists driving slower than the speed limit, on
anything that would keep her from contemplating David seeking out Rose
for a long, possibly fatal chat.

But what if Rose was innocent?  What if someone else was behind all of
this?  Some unknown, unsuspected someone?  Eden's limbs felt as taut as
piano wire, and she ached with impatience to get home and stretch, and
maybe even scream in frustration, or cry for a sister-in-law who'd
never liked her.

The clacking of the wipers grated on her nerves.  She tried phoning
Beth again, thinking she'd feel better if she could touch base with her
sister.  Still no answer.  Her muscles tensed, and she silently berated
herself for conjuring problems where none existed.  Quit
mother-henning.  Beth was probably napping... or feeding ducks.

But like a dozen hungry mallards, disquiet pecked at her brain.

The closer they got to Lake Retreat, the less it rained.  At the house,
only a sprinkle fell.  "Told you so," David said, driving through the
gate.  "All that worry for nothing."

It wasn't until Eden took one look at the lights gleaming from inside
the house that she breathed easier.  They'd find Beth curled on one of
the sofas read-hag her book.

But the house was cold inside, and the sofas showed no signs of recent
occupancy.  Fighting the returning dismay, Eden went through the lower
level quietly, not calling out in case Beth was napping.  She wasn't
downstairs.  Eden took the stairs two at a time.  Beth's bedroom was
vacant, the bed made.  Eden found the bathroom just as empty.  Panic
overtook her dismay.

"David!"  she called out.  "Is Beth down by the dock?"

He glanced out the kitchen window.  "I don't see her."

A moment later, Eden joined him, and they hurried out to the deck, down
the steps, across the lawn and to the lake, calling Beth's name.  She
was nowhere to be found.  Eden's fear clawed her stomach.  "Dear God,
where is she?"

"Don't panic.  Maybe the hospital called."

"Then why didn't she call us?"

"Maybe she did ... when we were being questioned."

"She would have left a note."  "Probably.  But call the hospital
anyway."  "How would she have gotten to the hospital?"

"Beth's resourceful enough to call a cab.  Please phone the
hospital."

At a loss for something better to do, Eden darted back inside.  David
walked the perimeter of the lot and circled the house, shaking his head
at Eden as he passed by the kitchen window.

Precious minutes passed before the fourth-floor desk nurse answered.
Eden tapped her fingers on the counter.  "Hello, yes."  She identified
herself and asked if perhaps Beth had been notified of a donor today.

"I'm just coming on shift, Mrs.  Prescott."  The voice had a flat
quality and didn't belong to anyone she recognized.  "But let me
check."

David came inside.  "She's not outside."

Eden relayed the nurse's message to him, breaking off as the flat voice
once again filled her ear.  "Mrs.  Prescott?  You still there?"

"Well, I'm sorry to say, there was no donor for Beth today.  Mayhe
tomorrow."

Eden hung up.  "She's not at the hospital."

The air pressed from her lungs as if a concrete block had landed on her
chest.  She stared out the window, her gaze transfixed on the dock as
she willed Beth to materialize before her eyes.  It took a second to
register what else was not at the dock.  She caught David's arm.  "The
rowboat is gone."

"Surely Beth wouldn't have gone rowing."  He craned his neck, focusing
on the dock.  "It's too strenuous for her."

"Then give me another explanation for why that boat is missing."

He shook his head.

They raced back out into the rain that now plopped on their heads and
into their eyes in huge, irritating, saturating dollops.  A breeze
churned the water.  David arched his hand over his eyes and scanned the
lake.

"There it is!"  He pointed toward a distant corner where a thick clump
of water lilies grew.

The boat bobbed in the rising wind.  Unmanned.  Looking abandoned.
Adrift.  Terror gripped Eden.  "Oh, David, it looks empty.  Beth."

David caught her by the upper arms, his hold gentle but firm.  "We
don't know that this means anything.  You go back inside, and I'll
borrow the neighbor's skiff."

"No!"  She squinted against the rain.  "I'm coming with you."

"All right.  But go get the phone and some coats."  Minutes later they
were seated in the metal skiff, David at the oars.  Wind and rain blew
against them, slowing their progress.  Five agonizing minutes later
although David rowed as fast as possible--they had only reached the
halfway point.

Eden's gaze never left the rowboat.  It twisted and her heart twisted
with it.  It rocked and her stomach rocked with it.  What would they
find?  Her mind invoked one awful scenario after another.  She gripped
the sides of the boat harder.

David grunted, forcing the oars deeper, the skiff onward.  At last they
were at the lily patch, three feet from the rowboat.

"Beth?"  Eden cried from a throat so tight the word came out
strangled.

Wind howled like a taunting devil.

Eden couldn't breathe.

As David rowed closer, he stretched and peered over the gunwale. "She's
there.  In the bottom of the boat."

Eden saw first the flowered slicker she'd given Beth in her second year
of college, then Beth's raven hair.  She lay curled like a sleeping
dog.  But was she asleep?  Eden's heart was in her throat.  "Beth?"

Beth didn't move.  Fear gripped Eden in a vise.  David shouted,
"Beth!"

Beth jerked, her eyes coming slowly open.  She was alive.  Eden's chest
heaved with relief as Beth lurched to a sitting position, fear
radiating from her rounded eyes.

"Dear God, Beth, what happened?"  Eden cried.  "What are you doing out
here?"

"I--I was down on the dock, feeding the ducks bread, when I heard a
noise near the house.  I thought it was you guys.  But when I called
out, I saw someone in dark clothing dive behind the trees.  I'd left
the telephone in the kitchen and I didn't know what to do, so I got in
the boat and rowed away."

Someone had been snooping around the house?  Eden's muscles ached with
tension.  Whoever it was had not been there when David and she had
arrived home; they'd searched inside and outside and would again as
soon as they were back on shore.  "No one's there now.  Come on,
sweetie.  We'll tow you back and discuss this over some hot cocoa."

"And cinnamon rolls," David added, grinning at Eden, obviously
recalling the last time he'd made them for her and burned them to
crisps.  "Heated cinnamon rolls are my specialty."

HALF AN HOUR LATER, they not only had hot cocoa and thick, gooey,
unburned cinnamon rolls, but a fire blazing in the fireplace.  They
were all wearing dry clothes and enjoying the sweet treat.

David set his cup on the floor and stared at the fire, but he had the
air of a caged tiger.

Beth shoved her hair off her forehead.  "For pity's sake, David.  Just
ask, okay?"

He jerked up at that, then laughed.  "Have you thought of taking that
mind-reading act of yours on the road?"

"Doesn't take the psychic hot line to figure out that you want to know
who and what I saw."

"So spill the beans, kiddo.  Could you tell whether it was a man or a
woman?"

"Woman, I'd say.  Do you think it was Rose?"  Beth shivered.

"Are you catching cold?"  Eden reached over and felt her forehead.  Was
it warmer than normal?  "Maybe we should take you to the hospital,
sweetie, and make sure you're okay."

"Oh, please," Beth lamented.  "David, tell her I'm okay."

"She's okay."  David winked at Eden.  He could see a trip to the
hospital right now might cause Beth more trauma, but Eden's concern was
understandable.  "Let's compromise.  We'll keep close tabs on you, and
if it looks necessary, then we'll make the trip.  Meanwhile I prescribe
bed rest."

"I accept," Beth said.  "But first I want to know what

Kollecki wanted with you two."

Eden tensed.

David silently signaled for her to let him handle this.  Tomorrow was
soon enough to tell Beth about Valerie.  She wouldn't be seeing the
news on television or hearing about it from any outside source.  She
needed a good night's sleep before she was presented more distressing
news.  "One of my neighbors spotted someone at my house last night and
called the police.  But King County didn't know where to reach me and
they didn't contact Kollecki until this morning.

"Kollecki had a few more questions for me about my answering-machine
tapes, then Eden and I met the King County police at my house to make
certain no one had gotten in and nothing was disturbed."

Eden was amazed at how easily he lied.  Amazed and grateful.

"And?  Was anything disturbed?"  Beth asked.  "Not a thing.  False
alarm."

"Good."  Beth yawned and stretched and bade them good-night.  Eden went
up ten minutes later and tucked her in.  She prayed Beth's ordeal
wouldn't bring on nightmares.

Back downstairs, Eden rejoined David, sinking onto the sofa beside him.
The fire crackled and snapped, and she couldn't keep her eyes from
sliding to the windows, couldn't keep from wondering if the person Beth
had seen might still be out there, hiding, watching, plotting against
them.

Reflexively she inched closer to David, ever aware that the last thing
she should do was allow someone obsessed with him to see them together.
"Who do you think Beth saw?"

"Good question."  David leaned back and stretched his arm along the top
of the sofa behind her shoulders, reaching fingers to pluck at the knit
of her sweater.  His gaze was tender.  "A couple of hours ago, I would
have been certain it was Rose.  Now I'm not so sure."

Eden cringed inside, her gaze stealing again to the naked windows and
the black night beyond.  Half expecting to see a woman's face pressed
to the panes, she braced herself against certain, sudden fright.  The
only woman reflected in the glass was herself, a pale-faced apparition
who wouldn't scare a flea.  "Shouldn't we notify the police?"

"I called while you were upstairs.  But they can only come out if
there's been a break-in."

"Even if it might have been an escaped convict?"  "What proof do we
have of that?"  God knew, he'd had the police's need of physical proof
rammed home enough lately to penetrate even his thick skull.  "The word
of an exhausted young woman?"

"Well, she saw something."

"Yeah, something.  But was it a someone?"  "What are you saying?"

He sighed.  "Beth has been under a great deal of stress, waiting for
the kidney while getting weaker every day.  Then there's been Peter's
death.  Your arrest.  The relentless press.  Knowing a stalker may be
after us.  Our hiding out.  All of which must be preying on her mind.
On her imagination.  We can't swear she wasn't spooked by a
neighborhood dog or the wind or shadows or all three."  '

She couldn't dispute that they were all spooked, jumpy.  She drew her
legs tight against her chest and rested her head on her knees,
considering the possibility that Beth had imagined seeing someone
prowling the grounds.  Eden realized, given the mood hovering around
her now, she could probably summon a person or shadow herself.  "I
guess you could be right."

He dropped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.  Eden
nuzzled his chest, staring at the flames glowing red and blue in the
fireplace.  Silence reigned for a full ten seconds, then David pulled
back.  "I've also thought long and hard about something else.  Rose
might have killed Marianne.  She might have killed Valerie.  But
Valerie's gun was stolen from her Mercedes three weeks before Shannon
and Peter were murdered" '

"While Rose was in an Oregon jail," Eden finished for him.  Like an
awakened monster, her uneasiness stretched with new life.

She hated giving up Rose as the star player in the nightmare her life
had become.  It left them at square one.  Frustrated.  Frightened.  And
vulnerable to the sick fancy of an unknown adversary--whose next move
could not be anticipated.  She hugged her knees harder.

"Do you have any idea who it might be, then?"  "I think we need to
figure that out."  "Resurrect our suspect list ?"

"It was a pretty short list to start with, but now that Val--" Her
throat constricted at the thought of how

Val's innocence had been proved.  "Just Denise Smal "There have to be
others."

Pondering the problem, she got up, went to her room and returned with a
tablet and pen.  She sat back down beside David and wrote "Denise
Smalley" at the top of the page.  Then moved the pen to the next line.
"Who else?"

"Hmm..."

Eden tapped the pen on the paper.  "Was Denise's name on that hit list
found in Rose's apartment?"  "No.  Why?"

"Maybe we should include the names of the women who were on that
list."

David's eyebrows arched up.  "Why?"

"Because if Rose didn't kill Shannon, maybe Rose didn't make up that
list herself.  Maybe it was planted--like the gun in my van."

His eyes widened.  "You think our stalker is using the old ploy of
making herself so obvious she'll automatically be eliminated from
suspicion?"

"Can we afford to overlook that possibility?"

"You're suggesting Rose was framed for Marianne's murder?"

"You said she was recanting her confession, and I can't help recalling
Beth's description of Rose as a person who would help a fly escape from
a room rather than swat it.  Was Rose that kind of person?"

David considered.  "She was reticent and tended to-ward--at least I
thought at the time--hero worship.  For me.  For Marianne.  After the
murder, I decided the worship was plain old jealousy."  Had he been
wrong about everything?  Had she merely been shy, maybe docile, pliable
to the point where more-determined minds than her own manipulated her?
Had she been framed?  Every day he was becoming more convinced of it.
He made up his mind.  "We can't afford to overlook the possibility that
she's innocent."

He took the tablet from Eden, and below Denise's name, he wrote two
other names.  Eden had heard of neither woman.  His hand faltered as he
wrote the names of his student assistant, his secretary and Beth's
nurse.  She knew he couldn't comprehend any one of these three women
committing the horrendous crimes that had been done in the guise of
loving him, but he couldn't ignore even the slimmest of chances that
they were.

Not with their own lives on the line.

He relinquished the tablet to her.  "Can you think of anyone else?"

"Just one."

The telephone rang.  David answered.  "Dr.  Coulter."

Eden wrote "Rose Hatcher" on the last line.

David stared at the name, realizing he was heating the voice of that
very woman in his ear.  "Dr.  Coulter, is it really you?"

A chill shot through him.  "R-Rose?"

"Yeah, it's me.  I tried calling you at your house, but you were never
there."

The chill turned to frost.  His gaze flew to the bare windows.  "Where
are you, Rose?  Where are you calling from?"

"Oh, I can't tell you that.  The police are looking for me.  You
probably heard I escaped, but I had to, Dr.  Coulter.  I didn't kill
Marianne."

David snatched the pen from Eden and scrawled across the tablet for her
to get the other telephone and call the police while he kept
Rose-talking.

Where had Beth said she'd left the other cellular phone?  In the
kitchen.  Eden scrambled up from the sofa.

David asked, "Then why did you confess, Rose?"  "I don't know.  I was
just so tired, and they wouldn't let me sleep and I got so confused, I
started to see in my head the way Marianne had died and I thought maybe
I did do it--since I could see it.  But after I got to Purdy and got
some sleep and could reason again, I knew I couldn't have done what
they said.  I'm innocent, Dr.  Coulter."

Eden scanned the kitchen counter.  From the other room, she could hear
David asking Rose about yesterday, about Valerie.  Where was the
blasted cell phone?  Her stomach churned.  She searched the table, the
floor, the top of the microwave, the top of the refrigerator.  She
jerked open cupboards, then drawers.  The other cell phone was not in
the kitchen.

Her panicked mind spit out an answer.  Beth had seen someone.  That
someone had come into the house while Beth was on the lake and taken
the second cell phone.

Alarm pulled her heart into her stomach like an express elevator
descending from the penthouse to the basement.

She ran back to the living room, arriving just as David asked, "Tell me
something, Rose ... how did you get my cellular phone number?"

But Eden feared she already knew.  Rose had gotten the number from the
second cell phone--by pushing Redial.  David's cell phone was the only
number Eden had called.  That meant Rose could be close by.  Right
outside.  Watching them.

She scribbled this onto the tablet.

David frowned, then shook his head.  He scrawled "Forgot," then pointed
to the corner plug.  The second cellular telephone was ensconced in the
battery charger.  Relief nearly buckled her knees.  Rose did not have
the phone.  She was not outside.

Eden hurried to the phone and jerked it from the charger.  Her hands
shook so hard it took two tries to jam the battery in place.

"Never mind," David said, frustration ringing in his voice.  "She hung
up."

"I'm sorry.  Beth said she'd left the phone in the' kitchen and when I
couldn't find it..."  She clamped her hands on the sides of her head.
"God, I actually thought someone had taken it.  I'm losing my
rationality.".

He put his telephone down and closed the gap between them.  "No more so
than I. I actually suggested the police could trace a call from my
cellular phone."  He laughed at himself.

Eden laughed, too, her tension fragmenting.  "Did Rose say where she
got your cellular number?"

"No, but as Beth suggted, she could have gotten into my office at the
hospital at any time that Lynzy or Colleen were out running errands and
found where it's written down."

Eden handed him the cell phone.  "Did Rose say where she was?"

"She wasn't about to divulge that."  He squatted and replaced the phone
in the charger.

Not wanting to give up on locating Rose, Eden asked, "While you were
talking to her, did you hear any background noises?"

His chin jerked up, and his eyes settled on her, amusement in their
mossy depths.  "Like they do on

TV?"

"Well..."

A lazy grin tugged at his sensuous mouth, and he unbent his body,
rising slowly, grazing his fingertips up the sides of her as he stood.
"Good thought, Mrs.  Co-lumbo, but I'm afraid I didn't hear a thing
that would help us locate her whereabouts."

"What did she say?"  Her voice was breathy.

"Same thing as on the tape.  That she was innocent and I had to believe
her.  Help her prove it."  "And... ?"

He shrugged and pulled her against his side, leading her back to the
sofa.  "We know she couldn't have stolen the gun, but how can I be
certain about Marianne?"

"You're a great judge of character.  What's your gut tell you about
that?"

David's sigh was heavy as if from the weight of an onerous burden. "One
of my first patients had me convinced she was suffering schizophrenia. 
It turned out she was an actor hired by an ex-fraternity brother of
mine to play a joke on me."

"That's awful."

"I suppose I deserved it.  I was pretty self-important and cocky at the
time, and the joke served to bring me down a couple of well-deserved
pegs.  It also undermined my confidence in my ability to read
people."

Eden could see what this confession cost him and realized he probably
hadn't told anyone else.  She also sensed he would construe any
sympathy over this matter as pity, so she offered none.  She grabbed
his hand.  "If it makes you feel any better, I've never met Rose, but
I've also wondered if she's innocent.  I can certainly empathize with
her desire to prove it and get her life back."

Snuggled together, they discussed the women on their list for another
hour.  The fire was winding down, and the aura in the room felt mellow.
His head was on her shoulder, his warm breath caressing her neck, the
ambience between them intimate.  There would be no better time to tell
him about the baby.

But she couldn't bear to look at him, couldn't bear to see the possible
rejection in his eyes.  She drew a deep breath, releasing it with a
hesitancy that mirrored her reluctance.  "David, I've been putting off
something that you have every right to know."

She damped her lips together, holding her breath, waiting for his cue
to continue.  Silence.  Then a soft snore.  She crooked her neck and
glanced sideways at him.  He'd fallen asleep.

Disappointed yet oddly relieved, she eased out from under him, and he
sank slowly to the sofa.  She stood staring down at him, wondering if
the baby she carried was his, if it would look like him.  Smiling at
the warm notion, she lifted his legs and covered him with a comforter.
Then she went upstairs to bed.

THE NEXT MORN nx<3 the ram was gone.  The warmer air hitting the damp
ground lifted steamy patches over the grass and soil like an eerie fog.
Eden and Beth were in the kitchen and David was showering when the
front door banged open and a woman called out, "Yoo-hoof Anybody
here?"

Nervous alarm gripped Eden as she made her way to the foyer, with Beth
close on her heels.  A silver-haired woman of ample proportions stood
in the foyer, her arms weighted down with a knitting bag and a huge
purse.  Eden stepped protectively in front of Beth.  "May I help
you?"

Beyond the woman, Eden saw a motor home parked next to her van.  A man
with a leathery face was un-hitching a compact car from the trailer
hitch.

"Well, hello.  I'm Bertha McFadden.  You two must be friends of
James,"

"Y-yes," Eden stammered.

David came down the stairs, capturing the woman's attention.  "Oh, Dr.
David.  How are you?"

"Fine, Bertha.  I trust your summer has been a great one as usual."  He
didn't wait for an answer but introduced Eden and Beth to the woman,
explaining that Bertha and Mac were James's renters.  He said to
Bertha, "James wasn't expecting you for another week."

"Lordy, don't I know it, but Mac's gout was pestering him something'
awful, and he wanted to see his doctor.  But now, don't you go frettin'
about us.  We'll just stay in the motor home until you're gone."

"That's very kind of you."  David and Eden ex.  changed glances.  "We
could use a day or two to figure out where we want to go."

Mac McFadden, his skin as dark as a coffee bean, his hair as silver as
a polished dime, trudged up the steps, carrying a brown grocery sack.
He was built like a Ma-fine.  Bertha spun toward him.  "Mac, put that
stuff back in the Winnebago.  Dr.  David is staying in the house for a
few days."

Mac set the sack on the porch and wiped his forehead with a pristine
white hankie.  "Hey, Doc.  Sorry to show up unannounced."

"It's no problem."  David introduced Beth and Eden to Mac.

Eden said, "Why don't you come in?  We have a fresh pot of coffee
brewed."

"And warm cinnamon rolls," David added.

Mac's face brightened.  "i've had enough coffee this morning to float a
carrier ship, but I can't resist your cinnamon rolls, Doe."

Mac started forward, then stopped and stared down at something hidden
by Bertha's girth on the porch.  "You know better than to go stomping
around without your 'glasses on, Bert."  He glanced up at them.  "She
can't see two feet in front of her without them."

"What are you jawing about, Mac?"  Bertha moved aside, giving them all
a clearer view of the porch.

Mac pointed down.  "There.  You smashed to smithereens the pretty white
rose that was lying on the welcome mat ."  '

Chapter Twelve

Mac scooped up the destroyed rose.  Shunning his grasp, the white
petals fell apart, fluttered through the air and landed at Eden's feet.
She jumped back as if they were a nest of deadly spiders.  Heat drained
from her face.  Her heart thudded.

Bertha squatted and reached for the scattered petals.  "Oh, my, I'm a
clumsy old fool.  Lookit what I've done to your lovely rose.  I can't
blame you for being angry, dear."

She lifted the petals to Eden.

Eden recoiled.

David intervened.  "Don't worry about it.  It's no loss to us.  We
don't know how the flower came to be on the porch."

But they did know, Eden thought.  She put it there.  She'd found
them.

Her expression clouded with uncertainty, Bertha's eyes narrowed at
Eden.  "If you say so, Dr.  David."

Eden shook herself, embarrassed to have treated this jolly woman so
poorly.  Even Mac was frowning at her.  They had been out of town when
she'd been arrested, and hadn't shown the slightest recognition of her,
couldn't know what she'd been through or why a single flower would turn
her insides to mush.  "Please forgive my rudeness.  Lately I've grown
quite allergic to white roses."

Bertha's eyebrows shot up.  "Just the white ones?"

"Yes," Eden answered, gesturing toward the kitchen.  "Come on, the
rolls are getting cold."

"Can't have that."  Mac caught Bertha by the arm and came inside,
shutting the door behind them.

"And we gotta phone Mac's doctor," Bertha said.  The next hour passed
unbearably slowly for Eden.  There wasn't enough coffee and cinnamon
rolls in the world to alleviate the horror at finding yet another rose.
She could no more follow the conversation than she could answer all the
questions somersaulting through her mind.  Had the stalker left the
rose as a warning that she knew where they were?  Or because she'd
killed again?

David grasped her hand under the table, and Eden relished the warm,
reassuring contact.  She knew he was as tense as she was, but he was a
master at getting people to talk, and Bertha and Mac recounted with
glee their summer excursion into Montana and the Dako How Beth was
holding up was a bigger worry.  Eden glanced at her sister.  Finding
the rose had obviously shaken her; she was shredding her napkin into
teeny puffs of paper, and her complexion seemed more sallow than
normal.  The small portion of cinnamon roll Eden had managed to swallow
felt like a glob of petri-fled dough in her stomach.  She had yet to
tell Beth about Valerie.  The kid was already trembling.  Was she
strong enough for all this stress?

The telephone rang.  Eden jumped as if she'd sat on a tack.  So much
for her own nerves.  Was the caller Rose Hatcher again?

But David handed the phone to Mac, stating that it was his doctor's
office calling to confirm the appointment he'd set up.  Mac and Bertha
excused themselves and went back out to the motor home.

The next second, questions popped from Beth like tennis balls from an
electronic server.  "Where are we going to go now?"

"I don't know, sweetie."  Eden gave Beth's hands a reassuring
squeeze.

"We can't stay here."  Beth's voice rose an octave.  "She'll come back.
She'll kill you."

"We'll be long gone before she has the chance."  David scooted out of
his chair.  "The best thing we can do now is let the McFaddens have the
house back today.  I'll make a few calls and arrange a new hiding
place."

He took the cellular phone into the living room, and soon--although
they could not make out the words--they heard the soft modulation of
his soothing tones.

Beth started to stand.  Eden reached a hand toward her.  "Sit with me a
minute longer, Beth."

She waited until Beth was reset tied then drew a bracing breath.
"Yesterday, when David and I went to the Issaquah PD... well... we
didn't tell you the entire truth."

Alarm filled Beth's eyes.  "Is this more bad news?"  "I'm afraid it is,
sweetie."

"What?  Are they going to arrest you again?"

"It's not about me."  Eden tugged at the back edge of her hair.  "It's
Val, sweetie."

"What?"  The word was impatient.  "Just tell me."  "She's dead."

Beth looked as stunned as a rabbit cornered by a pack of hungry
coyotes.  "How?"

Eden swallowed.  "M-murdered."

Beth gasped and tears sprang into her eyes.  "Kollecki told us she'd
been stabbed."  "But... why?"

"David and I are guessing that the stalker feared she might be able to
identify her."

"Why didn't you tell me this last night?"

"After the scare you'd been through?"

"It seems I had good cause to be afraid.  Even more than I realized.
But I'm not a child, Eden.  My life is in as much jeopardy as yours.
Quit keeping me in the dark."

Eden wasn't sure she could make such a promise, not if it meant sparing
Beth more pain.  She said nothing, watching Beth's face crumple in
sorrow.

"Poor, jealous old Val.  She only wanted to be loved for herself."
Tears streamed down Beth's cheeks, and she scrambled from the room. Her
footsteps clattered up the staircase.

Eden's heart ached for her, but she didn't go after her.  Beth neied to
grieve on her own, in her own way.  She cleared the table.  Her gaze
drifted over' the lake as she absently washed the dishes, fretting over
the meaning of this latest rose, wondering if David had found them a
new hideout.

DAVID COULDN'T GET the rose off his mind.  Had the stalker killed
again?  He dialed the Issaquah PD, got Kollecki on the line and told
him about the rose.

"Not another one, Doc."  Kollecki's voice echoed down the line like a
high-pitched, annoying buzz.

"But people unrelated to the case discovered it."

"I don't care if a hundred people witnessed the finding of the damned
thing.  Find me one person who saw it placed there--other than yourself
and Mrs.  Prescott, that is--and you'll catch my attention."

"By then it may be too late," David growled, and slammed the Disconnect
button before realizing he hadn't told the cop they'd be leaving the
area today.

Eden was putting the last dish away as he came into the room.  She
smiled at him, and his insides warmed, his tension ebbing marginally.
He said, "I heard Beth sobbing.  You told her?"

Eden nodded.  "Did you have any luck?"

"Great luck.  A friend of mine has a cabin in a remote area of eastern
Washington.  He keeps the key hidden outside, so all we have to do is
pack and take off."

"Terrific."  Eden folded the dish towel, then stood on tiptoe and
kissed his cheek.  He pulled her closer, folding her to him and kissed
her properly.  She came away breathless.  "We'd better save that for
later."

"You ever made love in a rustic cabin?"

She gave him a mischievous laugh.  "Before you, I never made love
anywhere but in a bed."

"Then, for as long as we're together, we'll avoid a bed whenever
possible."

As long as they were together?  Nothing mentioned about forever.  Hurt
pricked Eden's heart.  Nothing more permanent than this day-to-day
existence.  Was that the stalker's fault?  Or had she misjudged the
depth of David's love for her?  She moved out of his arms.  She'd be
damned if she'd tell him about the baby until she was certain how he
felt.  She wouldn't use the fact that she might be pregnant with his
child to trap any man into a commitment.

"I'll tell Beth," she said.  "The sooner we're away from here the
better."

David nodded.  "And I'll let the McFaddens know they can move back in
when they return from the doctor's."

An hour later they were headed up 1-90 toward Sno-qualmle Pass in
Eden's minivan.  Beth sat in the rear seat monitoring the three and
four lanes of traffic behind them.

Knowing that there was nothing she could do to ease her sister's
anxiety, Eden tried easing her own by concentrating on the passing
hillsides, the breathtaking array of golden, green, and orange-red
leaves, the occasional waterfall and the high, jagged rock formations
The day held the lingering fragrance of summer, but she detected a
promise of autumn spicing the air.  It was her favorite time of year in
the Northwest, a season best spent with good friends and loving some
wonderful place... like a remote cabin in the mountains... enjoying
wholesome activities.

Not running from a killer.

The thought stole what little enjoyment she'd culled from the day.  She
hunched down in the seat, her gaZe scouring the large side mirror as,
like Beth, She kept own vigil on the constantly shifting traffic.  A
tight knot of frustration pained her chest.  How long could they ::
keep running from this woman?  How long before they couldn't take it
anymore?

How long?  Were they supposed to walk away from ?  their former lives
forever?  Would David be forced to miss the opening week of fall
classes at the university?  i5

What would happen to his career if this went on indefinitely?

She rolled her tense neck, knowing as surely as the tires clacked on
the concrete pavement that indefinitely would never come to pass; one
or all of them would break before that time.  Then what?

"David, did you clear our leaving the county with Kollecki?"  she
asked.

David's gaze flicked from mirror to windshield to mirror, scanning the
vehicles on all sides of them, his eyes peeled for a black compact.  "I
meant to, but the obnoxious guy ticked me off and I hung up without
mentioning it."

"Hadn't we better take care of that now?"

"We'll call him from the cabin."

"Knowing Kollecki, he'll order us fight back."  "Well, we aren't going
back," David stated firmly.  "But you can call him now if it will make
you feel better."  '

They rounded the corner, and Snoqualmie Summit came into view, the ski
lifts idle, the grassy mountain-sides snowless.  Three months would
change that.  She reached for the telephone.  A loud beeping startled
her, and she frowned at the cell Phone.  But the sound wasn't coming
from it.  "What is that?"

"Probably my beeper," David said, wondering where he'd put it.

"It's my beeper."  Beth's voice was a falsetto squeak.  Eden spun
around.  "Your beeper!"

Beth's eyes were the size of silver dollars, and her hand trembled as
she tugged the beeper from her jacket pocket.

David eased the van into the outside lane.  Silence vibrated around
them as Beth read the message.  Finally she looked up at Eden.  "It's
the hospital."

"We knew that," David said, pulling onto the shoulder of the road.  He
and Eden exchanged glances.  There was no way they could escape to the
remote cabin now, but this was the best news Beth could have.  He
flipped on his blinker.  "A U-turn isn't legal, but I'll risk the
ticket for you, kiddo."

He waited for a break in traffic, then maneuvered into the westbound
lanes.  Eden reached back and squeezed Beth's knee.  Beth looked as she
had the day Peter and Eden married and it appeared they'd belong to a
close family again, as they had when Mom and Dad were alive; she looked
hopeful yet afraid to hope.  "You'd better call Dr.  Ingalls."

The telephone conversation confirmed that there was indeed a donor
kidney for Beth.  Eden beamed at her sister, but Beth wrung her hands
in her lap.  "What if this one isn't a match, either?"

"Oh, no, you don't.  Sometimes good things happen to good people.  And
we are all going to hang on to positive thoughts, you hear me?"

"Positive thoughts?"  She laughed bitterly.  "What about the stalker?
What if she finds out and comes to the hospital?"

David's gaze met Beth's in the rearview mirror.  "We'll see to it that
security keeps a close watch on you at all times."

"If the hospital can't promise us that, we'll provide private
protection," Eden reassured her.  "The only thing you're to worry about
is getting well."

"I'm not worried about me.  The stalker has no reason to fear me.  It's
David and you who need the protection."

Eden's joy over the possible kidney for Beth dimmed.  A double-edged
razor of fear cut through her.  Beth's operation was a serious one that
might not work, and she was right--by abandoning their plans to hide
out, they were walking into God knew what jeopardy.

But maybe that was for the best.  Hiding wouldn't draw the woman out of
the shadows.  Maybe this would force her hand, and they could put an
end to her tyranny.

The Emergency room was as deserted as a mall at midnight.  The same
jolly nurse who had admitted Beth he day of Eden's release from prison
was behind the desk.  She greeted Beth and David with a toothy smile,
her clown's-cap hairdo bobbing.  Her greeting to Eden vas less cordial,
her attitude bordering on rudeness.

So, Eden thought, she's finally figured out why I looked so familiar.
Her memory was probably jarred by 'the media coverage surrounding
Valerie's death.  Although Eden hadn't seen any newspaper Or television
reports on the murder, she was sure speculation had dragged her name,
and her photograph, back into the limelight.

Well, she didn't care a whit how this woman treated her... as long as
she was kind to Beth.  But Beth didn't miss the disdain in the nurse's
eyes.  She mouthed "I'm sorry" to Eden, then insisted David and she
meet her on the fourth floor later.

"She's in good hands," David assured Eden when they were down the hall
walking away from Emergency.

"I know, but I still want security alerted."

"So do I. I'll c11 from my office."  He checked his watch.  "If we
hurry, we'll catch the head of security before he leaves for lunch."

N DAVID'S OFFICE, Lynzy was making coffee.  She didn't bother glancing
around.  "It's about time you showed up.  I was starting to think you'd
been in an accident or some--" She broke off as she turned toward them
and crooked her hair behind her left ear.  Her brown eyes widened in
surprise.  "Ms.  Prescott.  Dr.  Coulter.  I thought you were
Colleen."

David frowned, his gaze sweeping his secretary's desk.  The typewriter
was still covered, the computer screen black.  "You haven't heard from
her?"

Eden crossed to the coffee machine and helped herself to a cup.

"No, and that's just not Colleen."  Lynzy strode to her desk and set
her mug beside a pile of papers she'd apparently been working on before
they came in.  "She's so particular about details."

"She wasn't expecting me today."  David shrugged.  "Mayhe she's playing
hooky."

"That sounds more like me than Colleen.  She prides herself on job
attendance."

Lynzy was right.  Where the hell was Colleen?  The image of the white
rose they'd found this morning jammed to the front of his brain, and
his stomach did a nosedive.  "Have you tried calling her at home?"

"Half the morning.  But all I get is her machine.  I left a couple of
messages."  She sat down and reached for her mug.  "Say, what are you
two doing here today anyway?"  She paused, and her face brightened.
"Tell me you're going to be here next week after all, Doc."

The expectation in her voice reminded David how difficult Dr.  Kenneth
Levy could be to work with.  Lynzy took her job seriously, but she had
an irrepressible sense that it should also be pleasant.  Pleasant
wasn't Dr.  Levy's long suit.  But Kenneth had been the only one of his
colleagues with ten free days to spare.  He shook his head at Lynzy.
"I'm afraid I'm still on leave."

"Beth is here for a kidney."  Eden set her coffee aside, untasted.  Was
David thinking what she was thinking?  That the white rose they'd been
left this morning meant Colleen was the stalker's latest victim?

Lynzy let out a disappointed sigh, then blushed.  "Oh, don't get me
wrong, Ms.  Prescott.  I'll keep my fingers crossed for your sister,
but this means I'm stuck with Dr.  Levy for ten more days."

Eden gave her a sympathetic smile, but her insides cldmored to get
David alone.  "Don't we have a telephone call to see to?"

They excused themselves and went into David's office.

The second he closed the door, she said, "Where do you think Colleen
is?"

"I'm afraid to guess."  His face was ashen.  "Let me take care of
calling security, then I'll deal with finding her."

He lifted the receiver and poked in the number.  A man with an East
Indian accent answered, "Security."

David identified himself and asked to speak to the head of security.

"So sorry, Dr.  Coulter.  He leaves for lunch five minutes past."

"When will he be back?"

"I am expecting him at one-thirty.  Perhaps could I be of assist?"

David outlined his problem.  The man said, "I see.  I have not the
authorize for this, but I make the note and my boss he be calling you
back when after he returns, please."

"Yes, please."  David thanked the man, gave him his pager number and
hung up.  He turned to Eden.  Worry etched her beautiful blue eyes, and
he strove to reassure her.  "It shouldn't be a problem.  But he can't
authorize the watch.  I should have called from the Emergency desk, but
I didn't want any more gossip circulating about this than necessary."

"It's all fight.  I'm sure Beth will be okay until the man is back from
lunch.  She'll be under constant scrutiny, and besides, like she said,
the stalker has nothing against her.  It's you and I who need to be
cautious."  "And Colleen?"

"David, there's nothing we can do for Beth for several hours.  Would
you feel better if we went to Colleen's house and made sure she
isn't... is... alive and well?"

"You're sure you wouldn't mind?"

"Positive.  In fact, I'd feel better myself."

"I'll try ringing her at home first."  He looked up her phone number
and dialed.  After four rings, Colleen's recorded voice asked him to
leave a message.  He implored her to pick up the phone if she was
there.  The request was ignored.  With a heavy heart, he set the
receiver in the cradle.  He started around his desk.  "She lives in
west Seattle."

Lynzy glanced up as they emerged from his office.  David said, "We're
going to take a drive over to Colleen's.  If she should call or show up
before I check in again, you can reach me on my cell phone."

A sudden wariness came into her eyes.  "You don't think she's been--"

"I have no reason to believe there's any problem,"

David lied.  "And you shouldn't let your fertile imagination run away
with any such notions.  I'm only checking on Colleen because--as you
pointed out--this is unusual behavior for her."  He nodded at Eden.
"Ready?"

As he reached for the doorknob, it was already spinning.  Eden and
David stepped back, and the door swung inward.  A breathless, rumpled
Colleen stood there.  She reared back in surprise.  The tight knot in
David's stomach dissolved in relief.

Colleen and David spoke each other's name in unison.  Then he said,
"Where have you been?  You had us all worried."

She came fully into the room and gestured with her hand that she needed
to catch her breath.  She moved to her desk, giving him time to assess
her appearance.  Wisps of her fawn brown hair poked from her French
braid like snags on a ratty sweater, and beneath her large blue eyes
the skin had a bruised hue as if she hadn't slept in days.  Her makeup,
usually undetectable, was smudged, Her cheeks were crimson, but he knew
that could be from whatever exertion had left her breathless.

Lynzy said, "Why didn't you call?  I've been imagining all sorts of
horrors."

Colleen's cheeks grew redder, and she lifted her shoulders defensively.
"I--I didn't think anyone would be here to take the call.  Dr.  Coulter
was on leave, and you're working with Dr.  Levy."

"Never mind that, Colleen."  David's voice was as soothing as balm.
"Where have you been?"

"In Renton.  The nuts' rag home called me about seven last night."

"Colleen's mother has been in a nursing home since she suffered a
stroke last winter," David explained to Eden.

Eden nodded and Colleen continued.  "She suffered another last night, a
severe one.  They rushed her to the hospital.  That's where I've been.
At Valley General.  All night."

David, Lynzy and Eden each offered Colleen sympathy.  Colleen thanked
them and drew a sad, ragged breath.  "She's doing as well as can be
expected, but she's seventy-five .... "

David patted her shoulder.  "You didn't need to come in today."

"I know, but I didn't want to be alone.  I thought I'd get a book I
left in my desk and eat in the cafeteria."

David had never seen his secretary so shaken.  "Forget the book.  I
could use some lunch, too.  How about it, Eden?  We can't see Beth for
a couple more hours.  Are you hungry?"

Eden realized what he was doing, and she loved him for it.  But to her
surprise, she also realized she was famished.  It had to be after noon.
"That's a great idea."

"Lyuzy?  I'm buying."

"Dr.  Levy?  Or a free lunch?  Hmm."  Lyuzy leapt up.  "I'm
starving."

On the way to the cafeteria, Colleen and Eden commiserated over their
mother and sister respectively.  Eden realized she faced hope today,
while Colleen faced despair, and she counted her blessings.  She had
David and her sister... and her baby to share the bad times and the
good times.  When Colleen's more died, she'd be all alone.

The cafeteria was a hive of buzzing chatter, personnel and visitors
eating, talking, coming and going.  As they grabbed their trays and
joined the food line, Eden noticed a couple of women, strangers, glance
at her, then duck their heads together.  Obviously more media watchers,
she decided, lifting her chin and ignoring them.  She was innocent and
she damned well wouldn't act otherwise.

David paid for their food and began weaving his way through the crowded
tables to a place near the back wall.  Colleen was right behind him,
trailed by Lynzy.  Eden was last in theft little procession.  As she
followed, she felt more eyes on her, but she kept her gaze focused on
David and the table he'd chosen.

A white object rested on the tabletop.  Her heart stopped.  Someone
rammed against her, Eden let out a startled gasp, nearly dropping her
tray.

"Sorry," the grungy teenage boy murmured, momentarily blocking her view
of the table.

Eden stood frozen, unable to respond, unable to move.  Please, God, not
another rose.

"Whatever," the teenage boy said in exasperation, then shouldered past
her.

She could still feel eyes on her and realized she was blocking the
narrow space between tables, making a spectacle of herself.  She pushed
ahead and plunked her tray down opposite David's.  Where had the object
gone?

"Ms.  Prescott?  Eden?"

Recognizing Ariel Bell's voice, Eden jerked around.  She was seated at
the next table with Denise Smalley.  Denise's face was set in a serene
expression, neither friendly nor host' de

Eden ignored her.  "Hello, Ariel."

"Denise tells me Beth is here for her kidney.  Please tell her I'm
delighted for her."

"I will.  Thank you,"

Eden turned back to the table and sat down.  Next to Colleen's tray was
the object she'd thought was a rose.  She almost laughed.  It was only
a white napkin some one had twisted into a shape that resembled the
hated flower.

THE WOMAN TWISTED on her cafeteria chair.  Eden and David had thought
they could run from her, but there was nowhere for them to hide. Didn't
they know that by now?

She ate her salad in silence, wincing inwardly every time she saw Eden
bestow a tender gaze on David.  My David!  The scream resounded inside
her head, echoing off her pounding temples and blistering the blood
that boiled through her veins.

Temper, temper.  She could hear her mother's words whispering through
the anger fogging her brain.  The woman took another bite of salad,
chewing thoughtfully.  Was that witch Eden pregnant?  Had she told
David the child was his?

Pain jabbed her heart, refueled her fury.  But her expression remained
placid, fixed.  It was a technique she'd taught herself at the age of
eight.  As long as she controlled her expressions, Mommy and Daddy
couldn't see her emotions, couldn't tell when she was scared or angry,
wouldn't beat her worse.

Her gaze stole surreptitiously to David.  You are running out of time,
my beloved.  Choose me and you choose life.  Choose Eden and you choose
death.

Chapter Thirteen

leaving David in the waiting area, Eden strode down the transplant wing
to the room assigned to Beth.  A security guard stood outside.  In
deference to David, the head of security had agreed to lend one of his
guards to watch Beth's room until they knew whether or not she'd be
staying for surgery.  After that, they'd have to hire outside
protection.

Eden greeted the guard, donned an isolation mask and entered the
fourth-floor room.  The bed was empty, but she could hear the shower
running, and the sour scent of antiseptic wafted on the steam.

The window shades were drawn against the sun, and as the door closed
behind her, she was pitched into near-darkness for two seconds.  As her
eyes adjusted to the change in light, she realized there was a nurse in
the room.

"This is Beth Montgomery's room?"

"Yes."  The nurse's voice was muffled by her mask, but a shock ran the
length of Eden as she recognized the crew-cut, frosted hair and coolly
assessing sky blue eyes.  Denise Smalley.

Eden stepped closer.  "What are you doing here?"  "Readying your
sister's intravenous setup."

A sliver of fear snaked through Eden.  Would this woman harm Beth?  She
took a step closer.  "Under the circumstances, don't you think it would
he better to remove yourself from Beth's case?"

"If you have a problem with my being here, you may ask to have me
removed."  Denise was as wooden as a tongue depressor.  "But I assure
you, I'll take better care of your sister than you did of mine."

Eden blanched.  "I had nothing to do with your sister's death."

"You got off on a Technicality."  Although she hadn't said it, the tone
of Denise's statement held a save-it-for-someone-who-believes-you
quality.  "That's not the same as being innocent."

Innocence was such a fragile thing, Eden mused, taking a deep breath.
More than half of the Northwest believed she was guilty of double
murder, but at this moment it was only Denise's opinion that mattered
and how 'it could affect Beth.  "I--I didn't even know your sister."

"That makes it all the worse."  Denise sighed.  "She was a great kid,
and I miss her every minute of every day.  Do you understand that?  Do
you know how painful it will he for you if this kidney isn't a match
for Beth and the fight one can't he found in time?"

Oh, dear God, yes.  Eden had lived with the fear of that outcome for
the past year.  "I've had to face the possibility of losing Beth."

"You're luckier than I in that regard.  One day Shannon was healthy, so
excited about her life, the next she was gone.  Snatched from me like
that."  She snapped her fingers, but the rubber gloves she wore reduced
the snap to a snick.  "I loved her so much.  And like some insidious
cancer, it eats at me every day, because it wasn't fair and because I
had no chance to preadjust to the loss."

The heartache in Denise's voice both frightened and confused Eden; she
sympathized with the loss of her sister, but the murder of a loved one
often roused the need for retaliation in grieving relatives.  And if
Denise was the woman obsessed with David, she was already over the
edge.  She watched Denise finish with the IV and walk to the bed. Could
Eden risk placing Beth in her care?

Her stomach was knotted, and her palms felt damp.  It struck her that
she was branding this woman guilty without more than circumstantial
evidence--exactly as she'd been branded by the police and the press.
Her gaze swept over the IV bag, innocently hanging from its metal post.
Would a nurse risk poisoning a patient when she would he the first one
suspected?  No.  Denise was not stupid.  Besides, would a woman who
loved her sister as much as she professed to have loved Shannon be able
to take a gun and shoot her?

Eden couldn't imagine it was possible, and she suspected David and she
would soon erase Denise's name from their suspect list.  But that
didn't mean Beth should be left in her care.

Denise folded the covers back from the bed.  "I understand Beth is all
the blood family you have left."

"Yes."  Her stomach gave another anxious twinge.  What would happen if
she had Dr.  Ingalls remove Denise from this case?  Would she seek
revenge?  Eden decided this topic would best be discussed with David.
The sooner the better.

"Then her death would be doubly hard on you.  Oh, don't look so
distressed.  I wouldn't wish that on anyone.  Not even--"

The unspoken "you" hung between them as the bathroom door clicked open,
emitting the steamy antiseptic scent into the room and grabbing their
attention.  Eden stepped to one side, allowing Denise, who was more
sterile, to assist Beth in fastening her gown.

Forgetting that the mask hid most of her face, Eden smiled at her
sister.  "How are you holding up, sweetie

"I'm tired."

"Of course you are."  Denise helped her into bed.  "But as soon as I
start the IV, you can rest."

Beth's rest was interrupted almost immediately by the arrival of the
first in a series of doctors who would re-examine her.  Eden promised
she'd return in a while and left.  Denise followed her into the hall.
"Are you going to have me removed from this case?"

Eden wasn't sure what she was going to do yet.  She said
noncommittally, "I'm certain you'll handle Beth as you'd wish someone
would handle Shannon if she was in this same situation."

Her pugnacious stance eased marginally.  "We should be hearing soon...
about the cross-match."

With that, Denise turned on her heel and headed down the hall,
disappearing into a supply room.

Eden returned to the waiting area.  David and Ariel occupied adjoining
chairs and were chatting softly.  They glanced up as she approached,
but it was David who stole her attention.  His gaze projected concern
that she knew was as much for her well-being as for Beth's.  A rush of
warmth swirled around her heart, and she longed to fold herself into
his arms, to feel his heat and his love soaking through her, and to let
them wash away her distress.  She glanced self-consciously at Ariel and
pasted on a smile.

David rose.  "Any news yet?"

"No."  She gestured for him to sit, then she took the chair opposite.
"Denise says we should be hearing soon ."  '

"Denise?"  His brows crumpled, and she could see he was having the same
concern she'd had initially.  She ached to talk to him about it.

"Denise is Beth's case nurse?"  Ariel's gray eyes widened beneath her
fringe of sandy bangs.  "Is that a good idea?  Feeling as she does
about..."  Pink colored her cheeks.  "I mean, surely it's no secret how
she feels about you, Eden?"

"No.  It's no secret."  In fact, Eden didn't doubt Aft-el had heard an
earful about it at lunch earlier.  The thought of Denise at the IV
packet bounced into her mind.  She had done the right thing, hadn't
she--let-ting Denise attach the needle to Beth's vein?  "We had a talk
about sisters, and I got the impression she'd give Beth the kind of
care she'd have wanted for Shannon."

Ariel leaned forward, her hot-pink top straining against her ample
bosom.  "What exactly did she say about Shannon?"

Wariness swayed through Eden.  "Only that she loved her and missed her
every day."

Ariel sat back, her bangs lowering over her eyes as she arched her
brows.  "I expect she misses the competition."

"Competition?"  Eden glanced at David.  His lips were pressed in a flat
line, and she had the distinct impression he knew where this was
leading.  "What kind of competition?"

"The usual.  Sisters will fall for the same men .... " Ariel shook her
head.  "I think it's an eleventh commandment or something."

Eden could not fathom the implication.  "Are you saying Denise was in
love with Peter?"

"No, not Peter.  Denise never mentioned him.  She thought Shannon was
interested in... someone else.  I don't think she knew about Peter
before the murders."  "She claims she did," David interjected.

"Does she?  Huh."  Ariel shrugged.  "I was positive she didn't know
about him.  In fact, if Shannon was seriously considering marriage, I
can't imagine her risking Denise's predatory nature."

Eden grimaced.  Although Shannon Sinalley had fit Peter's criteria for
this year's "trophy wife," Denise with her boyish figure and crew-cut
hairstyle did not.  That didn't mean she couldn't have seduced him for
a casual roll in the hay.  "Just how predatory is her nature?"

"She'd put a lioness to shame.  Shannon and she competed for boys like
opposing schools pursuing a state championship all during their teenage
years and after.  Denise claims she won more often than she lost, but
honestly... Shannon had all the looks, and the sweet disposition.  It's
like the old saying, blood tells."

David remained silent, but Eden could see he'd heard this all before
and wasn't going to gossip about a de ceased friend.  She wasn't bound
by that ethic; she hadn't known Shannon.  "Blood tells what?"

"Blood.  Relatives.  You knew they weren't blood sisters, didn't
you?"

David nodded, but Eden shook her head.  Renewed worry for Beth clawed
her stomach.  "StePsisters?"

"Yes.  Shannon's morn came from some fine old family out of Boston.
When she divorced her first husband, the fine old bunch of them yanked
the silver spoon out of her mouth, then permanently grabbed up the rest
of the flat ware when she married Denise's widowed father, a
hard-drinking dockworker."

The image of Denise extolling love for her sister and talking about the
importance of blood relatives ripped across Eden's mind.  It had been a
lie to put her at ease, to keep her from getting Denise dismissed from
Beth's case.

Something dark and ugly slithered through her chest.  She leapt to her
feet, her gaze locked with David's.  "Denise was in Beth's room when I
'arrived.  She was doing something to the IV--"

She couldn't say it, couldn't put her fear into words.  Fortunately he
understood and stood immediately.  "You can't suspect she'd do anything
to the saline solution?"

"Hey, Denise is a good nurse."  Ariel, also abandoning her chair,
sounded offended.  Apparently it was all right for her to bad-mouth her
friend, but not for them to do it.

"Three murders have been committed," Eden reminded them, struggling to
keep the hysteria from her voice.  "The police are no closer to solving
any of them than the day Shannon and Peter died.  We cannot afford to
take unnecessary risks."

Ariel's hands were on her hips, her face red with outrage.  "Denise did
not kill her sister!"

"No one's saying she did," David offered in a lowered voice.

"Maybe not, but Ariel has to admit she just supplied Denise with
motive."  Eden didn't know if she was more afraid that Denise was a
murderer or a revenge-seeking victim.

"Well, I--" Ariel blanched.  "Look, how can I help prove she's
innocent?"

"What's important right now is getting that IV she gave Beth changed."
Eden struggled against the panic nipping her nerves.

David's eyes were rounded.  "Denise wouldn't poison one of her
patients."

"It's doubtful, I agree.  But I'm not willing to risk Beth's life in
case I'm wrong.  Are you?"

He considered, his face turning into an unreadable mask.  It was likely
he was recalling the rose they'd found that morning, recalling that
they still weren't certain why it had been left.  "I'll find Dr.
Ingalls and arrange for a change of nurses."

"Thank you."  Eden gave him a loving smile.  "I'll meet you in Beth's
room."

He headed into the hall ahead of her.  Ariel called out Eden's name.

Anxious to get to Beth, she turned an impatient, questioning glance at
the woman.  Ariel said, "If you don't mind, I'll stick around for a
while.  If Beth is going to have surgery, I'd like the chance to wish
her well.  You see, I'm starting a new case tomorrow--on Bainbridge
Island, a little girl in a body cast--and I don't expect I'll get back
to Seattle for a couple of months."

"I don't mind."  Eden only wanted to get to Beth, but she softened her
expression.  "As soon as we hear something, I'll let you know."

Eden hurried into the transplant corridor.  Striding toward her was
Denise Smalley, her face as dark as a thundercloud.  She glared at
Eden.  "I will pay you back for all the pain you've brought on me."

"Denise?"  Ariel, apparently hearing her friend's raised voice, had
wasted no time reaching the two women.  "You don't want to make the
situation worse."

She started to touch her friend's arm.  Denise snatched her arm out of
reach.  "She had me pulled off this case.  The situation couldn't get
any worse than that... unless this witch accused me of tampering with
the saline solution."

A guilty flush scurried into Eden's face.  She held her breath, hoping
Ariel would have the good sense not to confirm this--at least until
Denise was calmer.

But Denise read the guilt she couldn't hide.

"You did, didn't you?"  Outraged, she poked a finger against Eden's
chest.  "I don't get mad, lady.  I get even," Denise warned between
clenched teeth.  Then she spun away.

Ariel shrugged apologetically at Eden, then hurried after her friend.
Eden drew a steadying breath and turned toward Beth's room again. She'd
weathered worse storms than Hurricane Denise, but the woman's threat
followed her into -Beth's room, sweeping into the darkened space and
swirling through the shadows.

Eden's breath struggled against the isolation mask.  Her eyes were slow
to adjust to the change in light, but finally she saw Beth clearly. Her
body was still.  Too still?  Her eyes were closed, and her face had the
peaceful expression of ... a corpse.  Eden's heart stumbled, and she
gasped out, "Beth?"

Beth's eyelids fluttered open.  "What?  Eden, is that you?"

Relief flushed through Eden, but her voice jammed in her throat.

Beth let out a loud sigh.  "Is there any word yet?"  "Nope." 
Recovering control of her emotions, Eden moved to the bed, still not
convinced that Beth had suffered no ill effects from the contents of
the IV bag. "How are you feeling?"

Beth grimaced.  "What do you think?"

The door swung inward, and a nurse entered, carrying a new intravenous
bag.  She said hello, then set to work exchanging the saline packets,

Beth frowned.  "What are you doing?"

"-Nothing to fret over."  The nurse's eyes crinkled.  "This one just
isn't dripping fast enough."

Eden followed the nurse out of the room and found David and Dr. Ingalls
waiting in the hallway.  Dr.  Ingalls said, "Take that directly down to
the lab.  Felix is expecting it."

"What about Beth's surgery?"  Eden reached for David's hand, glad for
the warmth that flowed up her arm as his fingers laced with hers.

"If that IV bag hasn't been tampered with--" Dr.  Ingalls gave her one
of his rare smiles "--we'll be giving your sister a new kidney
tonight."

Eden wanted to shout with joy.  She settled for hugging David.  But the
unsettling sensation of being watched made her pull away.  At the end
of the hall, she spotted Denise Smalley.  Her eyes were narrowed,
shooting daggers of hatred directly at Eden.  Frissons of ice spiked
down Eden's spine.

"IT WAS SALISOLLrnON," Dr.  Ingalls informed them an hour later.

In that place inside her where she held all the unfairness of being
wrongly accused, Eden despised herself for accusing Denise Smalley just
as unfairly.  But the truth was, Beth's life had to be considered above
anyone's hurt feelings.  "Let's tell Beth."

The look of joy and relief on Beth's face matched the happiness dancing
inside Eden.  The next minutes passed in a swirl of activity and
doctors.  As Beth was finally wheeled into surgery, David caught Eden's
ann.

She glanced up at him, suddenly weary to the bone.  But she was too
keyed up for sleep.  David conjured a deck of cards, and they played
Hearts," which he excelled at, and Crazy Eights, which she couldn't
lose.  Between games, they walked the corridor, stretching their limbs,
burning off pent-up nerves, drinking coffee, re agitating those same
nerves and silently praying... for Beth's well-being, for Dr. Ingalls's
expertise and for the grieving family of the kidney donor.

After what seemed an eternity, Eden asked, "How long has it been?"

"Not long enough, love.  But I can think of a wonderful way to make the
next hour pass in sublime pleasure."  His eyes were the color of a
mossy glade, and she knew she could get lost in them, fall willingly
into his arms and let him take her to the paradise he offered.

"You have no idea how tempting that sounds."  She reached up to touch
his face.  He needed a shave, but it did nothing to mar her attraction
to him.  A tingling heat swished through her.

"Hey, Doc."  Lynzy's voice startled Eden.

She jerked her hand away from David's face, reining in the sweet
feelings he roused in her.

Lynzy projected an energy force that was tangible, overpowering Eden's
waning strength and making her more aware than ever of how strung out
she felt.  Lynzy flipped her long brown hair, her eyes sparkling like
boiling coffee.  "I called the transplant wing.  They told me the great
news."

David smiled at her, his eyes teasing.  "Finished with Dr.  Levy for
the day?"

"No.  But I was looking for you, Doc.  Two things.  First, the security
guard you hired arrived, and I directed him to Transplant to wait for
Beth's arrival."  "Great."  David nodded.  "Thank you," Eden added.

"Second," Lynzy said, "some woman keeps calling and hanging up when I
ask her name.  The last time, I told her to call back in half an hour
and I'd make sure you were there.  It's almost that time now."
Foreboding pricked Eden.

David's smile faded.  "You didn't recognize the voice?"

"I didn't think about it, but now that you mention it, maybe."  She
waved her hand in frustration.  "Oh, I don't know.  It sounded kind of
muffled ... like she had a cold or spoke with a nasal twang."

David shook his head, then gazed at Eden.  "You coming or staying?"

As much as she hated leaving the surgery waiting room, she was not
about to stay there alone.  "Coming."  They arrived in his office with
minutes to spare.  But the phone remained silent past the deadline,
Five minutes.  Ten minutes.  Fifteen minutes.  David's pa-tienee
snapped.  "This is ridiculous.  Let's go back.  If the woman calls
again, Lynzy, transfer her directly to my message center."

Eden and he headed for the door.  The telephone rang, its peal as
jarringly loud in the office as an alarm bell.  David let it ring twice
before snatching up the receiver on Colleen's desk.  "Dr.  Coulter."

Eden felt as if she Were still trying to breathe through the isolation
mask.

"Oh, Dr.  Coulter, I was afraid I'd never reach you."  It was Rose
Hatcher.

He mouthed the name to Eden.  Her heart hitched.  A pulse beat in his
throat, and David strove to keep his excitement and concern out of his
voice.  "What do you want?"

"I need to see-you, Dr.  Coulter.  Please, say you'll help me."

"How can I, Rose?  You say you didn't kill Marianne, but I can't prove
it.  Can you?"

There was a lengthy pause.  "Then you won't help me?"

"I don't see how I can.  I don't know who killed Marianne."

"But I do.  Now."

"What?"  His pulse wobbled.  "Who?"

"No.  Not over the phone.  How do I know she's not there with you
now?"

He glanced at Eden and Lynzy, frowning.  "This is absurd.  If you don't
tell me, I'll hang up."

"If you want to know, meet me at your house tonight.  At midnight. 
I'll be watching... so don't bring the police."

David opened his mouth to respond, then realized he was listening to a
dead line.  She'd hung up.

Chapter Fourteen

David replaced the receiver in its cradle with a jerky motion.  His
face felt hot, his body cold.  Did Rose really know who the murderer
was?  Or was this just an other ploy to make him think she wasn't the
murderer?  Eden touched his arm.

He flinched as if she'd stung him.

Frowning, Eden stepped back.  "What did Rose say?"

"That was Rose Hatcher?"  LynzY looked stunned... and a bit afraid.

David nodded but ignored Eden's question.  His mind was racing.  Rose
had suggested the murderer could be here with him.  He couldn't tell
them that.  Nor did he believe it.  Eden was not a killer, and Lynzy...
she was so candid, the thought was ludicrous.

Granted, people often presented deceptive facades to the world,
guarding their true selves--the reasons they did so were as vast and
complex as the human population.  And, contrarily, those who had the
most-obvious neuroses--like straitlaced Colleen--were usually much
healthier than one imagined.

An ache started at his temples.  Was Lynzy hiding her true self from
the world, or was she what she appeared to be?  She was on their
suspect list, and without some solid proof, he couldn't just rule her
out.  But, so help him, he couldn't believe it of her.

"David, what's wrong?"  Eden intruded on his troubled musing.  "What
did she say?"

Watching Lynzy for a telltale reaction, he said, "Rose claims to know
who the murderer is."

Lynzy's big brown eyes rounded.  "I don't understand.  Isn't she the
murderer?"

The innocence of the question was just what he'd wanted to hear from
Lynzy.  The knot in his stomach loosened.

Eden's stomach clenched.  She drew in a shallow breath.  "Did Rose tell
you who she thinks is guilty?"

"No."  He decided against mentioning Rose's wanting to meet him later
that night.  Eden would have a fit, and Lynzy would wonder why he
didn't immediately call the police.  But somehow his doubts about Rose
were causing him to resist that natural next step.  "When I asked if
she had proof, she hung up.  She was probably lying."

Sensing some kind of distraction vibrating from David, Eden deduced
that he was the one ducking the truth.  A rush of anticipation spurted
through her.  What had Rose told him that he wasn't sharing?  She had
to know.  Now.  "It's getting late.  Beth will he out of surgery
soon."

"Yeah, we'd better get back."  David followed her to the door, then
stopped as though something had just occurred to him.  "It's almost
SIX, Lynzy.  What are you still doing here anyway?"

She pointed to the two neat piles on her desk.  "I'm not making as much
headway as I'd like.  I think I,il work another hour or so."

"See you tomorrow, then."  David ushered Eden from his offices.

As soon as they were ten feet down the hallway, Eden pulled up short.
"You're holding out on me.  What else did Rose have to say?"

David grinned wryly.  "Think you know me pretty well, don't you?"

"I guess I am starting to pick up a few signals."

His face grew serious.  "Rose said she knows who the killer is.  But I
had no luck getting a name out of her."  "And... ?"

His expression went from serious to grim.  "She'll tell me the
murderer's name only if I meet her at my house at midnight tonight."

"No."  Fear clutched Eden's chest.  "You can't do that."

"Don't worry.  I'm not going to meet her.  Not as long as I'm not
positive that she's innocent."

Eden breathed a sigh of relief.  "She's probably just trying to
separate us."

David ushered her onto the elevator.  "Who knows what she's
thinking?"

Eden tried not to show how much she wished she knew that very thing.
She stepped to the back of the elevator and watched him push the
button.  "Shouldn't we call the police and tell them that Rose will be
at your house around midnight?"

"I'll put a call in to them as soon as we know how Beth is."

"Okay."  Her stomach was uneasy.  Were they doing the right thing ...
turning Rose over to the police?  What if she was innocent?  Her neck
muscles felt pinched.  All this stress couldn't be good for her.  Or
for the baby.

With an iron-willed effort, she relegated Rose Hatcher and the stalker
to the furthest recesses of her mind.  If she had to be stressed about
something, it ought be her sister.  "I pray the surgery is going
fight."

It was eight o'clock before Dr.  Ingalls appeared in the surgery
waiting room.  He looked as tired as Eden felt.  But his weary features
shone with the pleasure of a job well done.  "Beth came through like a
trooper.  The rest is in God's hands.  She'll be asleep for hours.  Why
don't you go home and get some shut-eye yourselves?  Come back
tomorrow."  He started to turn away, then hesitated as if he'd recalled
Valerie's murder and the fact that Eden probably wasn't presently
staying at home.  "Just leave a number where you can be reached... in
case..."

In case Beth's body rejects the kidney.  The unspoken words scuttled
through Eden's head like a black cloud.  She shook herself and willed
the tension in her stomach to ease.  Dr.  Ingalls had stated the fact.
Whether or not Beth's body accepted this kidney was in God's hands; she
could do nothing... except pray for a positive outcome.

"Dr.  Ingalls is a wise man," David said.  "Let's take a taxi to the
Four Seasons and order room service."

"That's the second-best suggestion you've made all day."  She gave him
a sensuous grin that started his heart zipping merrily against his
fibs.

"We'll call from my office."

His office was dark when they entered.  The piles on Lynzy's desk
looked the same to Eden as when they'd left two hours earlier.  "Looks
like Lynzy took your advice and went home after all."

"Yeah.  I'm kind of surprised she didn't get more done.  She's usually
a whiz."

David telephoned for a cab, then they returned to the main building of
the medical center.  Visiting hours had recently ended.  They joined
the flow of people streaming through the main corridor toward the
exits, then held back at the front doors to wait for the cab.

"Hey, it's raining."  David spoke softly, but his face shone with
surprise as he pointed at the rain lashing the concrete walkway
outside.

"When did this storm blow in?"  Eden eyed the dark night uneasily,
belatedly realizing the drumming noise she heard was coming from the
rain hitting the Plexiglas windows of the solarium and the covered
walk.

David shrugged.  "Probably started while we were at lunch."

Eden felt an ominous gloom hovering nearby.  Was it the storm?  Or
simply being here, near the solarium?  The last time she'd been here,
someone had left a rose in her purse.  The last time she'd been here
someone had been watching her.

Without warning, the prickly sensation of eyes drilling her back struck
her again.  No.  She would not look around.  Would not give whoever was
doing this to her the satisfaction of knowing they'd frightened her.

Instead, she inched closer to David, needing his warmth, his
strength.

"It's Coming down pretty hard."  David draped his arm around her
shoulders and pulled her to his side.

Headlights swept through the downpour, and a yellow cab appeared on the
tarmac.  They dashed through the torrent and hurried to it, arriving
wet but safe.  Eden wiped the water from her face with her sleeve and
snuggled against David, truly comfortable now that they were out of
sight of prying eyes.

But once they were in their suite with dinner ordered, she wondered if
she should have mentioned her feeling of being watched to David.  What
if the stalker had followed them here?  But David bolted the hotel
door, reviving her sense of security.

The invitation was back in his mossy green eyes.  "How does a long hot
shower sound?"

"Delicious."  He hadn't touched her, and she was already breathless,
already anticipating his hands on her, already parting her lips to meet
his descending mouth.

His hands curled around her upper arms, and he pulled her close,
clasping her sensitive breasts against his firm chest.  Her nipples
sprang taut, achingly responsive to the very brush of his body to hers.
His tongue delved into her mouth, rough against smooth, tasting,
pleasuring, sending sweet, shattering shards of desire spiking through
her, the heat melting her stress, dissolving her tension, liquefying
her insides to something thick and hot like bubbling sugar.

What was this need to feel his naked flesh against her own?  Had she
always had this abandon untapped inside her?  Her mind was glazed with
want, her ability to reason such issues reduced to so much spun
candy.

Why question joy?  Eden tugged his shirt hem free from his pants and
shoved her hands beneath the soft cotton fabric until she connected
with his warm, muscled body.  She groaned his name on a breathy sigh.

Then they were tearing at each other's clothes.  Her sweater dropped to
the floor, then her jeans, his sweat-shirt, his jeans, her bra, her
panties, his shorts, his socks.

She stood back in awe, her gaze skimming every inch of him from his
head to his toes.  "You am the most gorgeous man .... "

"Gorgeous?"  He snagged her wrists, then swept her to him, his grin
adding to his heart-stopping looks.  "You are the beauty, my love."

"If there's any truth in that--" his need pressed hard and hot against
her stomach, and her inner pulse throbbed to have him inside her
"--it's that you make me feel beautiful."

"Let me reaffucm that for you now."  Kissing her, he lifted her into
his arms and carried her into the bathroom.

Eden had the vague impression of tile and glass and brass fixtures as
golden as the paradise that David wrapped her in.

The shower was large enough for four.  Water sprayed from a brass
faucet head, spffiing down on them like some lush spring on a tropical
island.  He lathered his hands, then began soaping Eden's body, gently
massaging her neck, her shoulders, her breasts.

She threw back her head, her eyes closed to the water spilling across
her face, and sighed his name.  Her nipples strained against his touch,
and she arched into his hands, delighting in the friction of their
tender massage.

Then his hands slipped lower, gliding over her belly, and Eden tensed.
Would he notice its new roundness?  She hated not telling him about the
baby.  Hated worse not knowing whether or not he was the father.  But
his words "for as long as we're together" rang inside her head and
reinforced her conviction that she would not use this pregnancy to trap
him into a commitment.

His hands, doing wild things to her body, his mouth pleasuring her,
grabbed her attention and sent her troubled thoughts skittering away.
"Oh, David."

She could no longer resist touching him.  She reached for the fragrant
French milled bar and lathered her hands, then began washing him as he
had washed her, spending long minutes enjoying the senSuous play of her
palms over his sinewy chest and washboard stomach, his lean, taut
buttocks, finally wrapping her fingers around his erection and sliding
soap-slicked strokes up and down that hard, fevered flesh.

"Eden," he cried, pulling back with desire-glazed eyes.

Steam swirled around them, floating, rising.  Warm water sprayed down
over their bodies, sweeping away the soapy suds.  His gaze was hungry
now, his breath as quick and ragged as her own.

Moving behind her, David cupped her breasts and gently pulled her back
to his front, then he slipped inside her.  And as small as she was, she
took all of him as if God had created her especially for him alone.
Need--throbbing, coursing--drove him deeper and faster into those hot,
tight, moist depths.

Lost in the fervor of their joining, Eden felt herself spiraling out of
control, higher and higher, her breath quicker and quicker, her
heartbeat wilder and wilder, until she crested the peak with a shout of
triumph that sliced through the foggy steam and echoed off the bathroom
walls seconds before David's did the same.

THEY ATE DINNER in robes provided by the hotel, then afterward curled
up on the deep-cushioned sofa with cups of coffee.  Eden felt as sleepy
as a sated eat in a sunny window.  The only shadow over her mood was a
stray thought about Rose Hatcher.  "Did you contact the police?"

"I tried getting hold of Tagg but he wasn't in.  I'll be damned if I'd
give Kollecki the information.  I wouldn't sic him on anyone, not even
Rose."

The shadow gained density.  "What if Rose isn't the murderer?  Have you
thought who else might be?"

"No, but she had me considering Lynzy pretty seriously."

Eden lifted her brows in surprise.  "Really?  To me, Lynzy seems the
least suspicious of all our suspects.  She's too obvious to be a liar,
let alone a murderer."

"That's just it."  David took a swallow from his cup.  "In any good
mystery novel, the least suspicious person is usually the guilty
one."

"This isn't fiction."  Eden laughed.  "Besides... Lynzy seemed to
genuinely think that Rose was the murderer.  Do you think she was
faking that?"

"No.  Then again, I believed with all my heart that Rose had killed
Marianne.  Now... well, I have to admit, I've had my doubts."  He
opened his arms, and Eden scooted closer, resting her head against his
shoulder.  He said, "Okay ... for the sake of speculation, let's
suppose Rose is innocent.  Who would you suspect?"

"If not Rose..."  Eden didn't even have to think about that.  "Denise.
If looks could kill, I'd have died on the spot from the one she gave me
when she saw me in your arms at the hospital fight after she was taken
off Beth's case."  She craned her neck sideways and gazed up at him.
"How do you feel about her - could she have murdered her stepsister?"

He rubbed his chin.  "I knew Denise and Shannon carried on a fierce
competition over men.  But Shannon made it clear to me that she cared
too much about Denise to let any man really come between them."

Did Denise feel that same loyalty?  Eden stifled a yawn.  "Ariel hinted
that, too.  But how can we know if Denise felt that way about
Shannon?"

"Maybe there is no way to know.  Hell, maybe we should wonder about
Ariel."  David toyed with a strand of Eden's raven hair, short and
ragged edged, framing her face and emphasizing the cornflower blue of
her eyes.  "Ariel seemed eager enough to accuse Denise of sibling
jealousy, but what about her own motives?"  "What do you mean?"

"Could she have anything against Shannon, or Valerie, or Peter?"

Eden recalled her suspicion that Ariel had told Kol-lecki how Peter
verbally abused the women of his family.  It seemed even more plausible
now that she was the one who'd told the cop.  "She might have resented
the way Peter sometimes talked to Beth... but would that give her
motive?"

"It doesn't seem likely.  Could he have done something specific to
Ariel?  Something we don't know about?"

"Certainly."  She curled her feet beneath her.  She was quiet for a
moment, then it struck her they were looking at this all wrong. "David,
since we believe the murderer is a stalker, shouldn't the real issue be
how all of these women feel about you?"

She was right.  That was the way they should consider all their
suspects.  But, dammit, it was degrading enough even thinking about
being the object of someone's demented obsession; trying to imagine one
of their suspects as that "someone" made him sick.  "I know Ariel was
grateful when I recommended her to you.  But she'd done a super job
nursing James's daughter last summer when Mindy's first attempt at
waterskiing re-suited in a broken pelvis.  And you know how good she's
been with Beth.  As to her feelings for me... I haven't noticed
anything.  But I can't say I was looking, either.  What do you
think?"

"To be honest, I've been so wound up in my own problems, I haven't paid
that kind of attention to any of our suspects."  But she should have.
She grew thoughtful again.  "What about Colleen?  Secretaries often
fall for their bosses."

"She's hard to read.  Plus she's been too tied up with her mother to
have been at the lake house."

"Has she?"  Eden sat straighter.  "Aren't we taking her at her word?"

He frowned and, swore again.  "That's the trouble... we're both so
basically honest that we've been taking everyone at their word.
Colleen's alibi is something we can check out.  I'll call the nursing
home in the morning."

Eden set fled against his shoulder again, and David shut his eyes,
letting his mind roll over his earlier thoughts about neuroses and
people like Colleen.  Was she an obsessive personality?  Lynzy
certainly was.  Even when she had lots to do, her desk was always tidy,
a place for anything and everything .... But Colleen, for all her
prissy attire and prim appearance, was slower and, if he were honest,
less efficient.

Denise had plenty of obsessive behavior, now that he thought of it. She
denied her softer side, keeping her emotions rigidly controlled. Her
hair and clothes were, if nothing else, bother free.

Ariel, on the other hand, seemed a free spirit with her tousled hair
and her hot-pink nursing outfits.  But she was a fanatic about her
patients, keeping precise charts and following exacting routines.

Which if any of them had violent tendencies?

He ought to know.

Which if any of them had an obsession with him?  He ought to know that,
too.  But he didn't.

RAGE BOILED through the woman's veins.  She gripped the letter opener
like the dagger it resembled and slashed its blood-crusted tip across
the photograph of David's face, cutting a jagged tear from ear to
ear.

He had chosen Eden.

Revenge whistled through the hollow pit in her chest where once her
loving heart had pulsed.  Now that organ was but a shriveled black
lump, too dark for a ray of sympathy, too dried-up to provoke tears,
too small to ache at his betrayal.

She stabbed the picture again, digging the tip of the letter opener
into his temple like a pin poked into a voodoo doll.  David had sealed
his own fate.  He wasn't going to die.  But he was going to wish he
had.

IN THE QUEEN-SIZE BED of the hotel suite, Eden fell asleep in David's
arms.  He liked the feel of her nestled against him.  She was so tiny
and so tough.  He smiled to himself, realizing he liked both those
things about this woman.  His woman.  Damn.  He also liked the sound of
that.

But would she?  He blew out a melancholy breath.  Eden was recently
widowed and, unhappy marriage or not, as abandoned as she was in their
lovemaking and as much as she seemed to care for him, he knew better
than to entangle himself with someone on the rebound.  Yet he had
jumped in with both feet.  If she broke his heart, it would serve him
right.

He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the sweet, fragrant scent of
her silky hair.  Would she break his heart?

Thunder boomed overhead as if God were confirming this fear.  He
shuddered and shoved the awful thought away.  But the rain hitting the
window seemed to tap the thought free.  Gingerly he disentangled
himself so as not to wake Eden, then threw off his covers and strolled
into the bathroom.

Whiskers grazed his jaw, and his hair was tousled.  The troubled man
reflected in the mirror brought to mind another rainy night that he'd
stood staring at himself like this.

His gaze fell to the counter, to the complimentary comb provided by the
hotel.  A sudden shiver scurried down his spine as the thing he'd
struggled for days to recall popped clear and whole into his head.
Combs.  Three combs had been taken from his house two months before
Rose Hatcher had escaped from jail.

He let out a pent-up breath.  She couldn't have taken them.  Nor could
she have taken Valerie's gun from her Mercedes.  And Valerie would have
mentioned seeing Rose driving through her neighborhood.  Unless Rose
was disguised.  But that also ruled her out as the woman Valerie had
thought she recognized.

It didn't prove she hadn't killed Marianne, but it meant she was
innocent of the more recent murders.  Did she really know who the
killer was?

Dear God, was she completely innocent as he'd thought when she'd first
been arrested?  Eden had told him to trust his gut.  He decided to do
just that.  What time was it?

He hurried back into the bedroom and found his watch.  Not quite
eleven.  If he left fight away, he could still keep the rendezvous with
her.

He tossed on the clothes he'd left heaped on the floor, scribbled Eden
a note and pinned it to his pillow.  The note was only a precaution. He
doused the lights, confident that Eden would be safe here, that he
would be gone and back before she even woke.

Minutes later he exited the elevator into the lobby.  His attention was
so focused on the coming meeting with Rose Hatcher, he didn't notice
the raincoat-clad woman ducking into a co ruer as he headed for the
front doors.

Chapter Fifteen

Eden's dreams were haunted by the stalker.  She was at the hospital
again, feeling those eyes drilling into her back.  This time she looked
around and scanned the crowd.  There she was.  Standing in the shadows
near the corridor to the Health Sciences Building.  Eden turned to tell
David.

But he was gone.

Eden spun back t the woman.  A man was hurrying toward the shadowy
figure.  David.  No.  She wanted to snatch him back to the safety of
her embrace.  He was too far away.

She set out after him, calling his name.  "He didn't seem to hear.  He
kept on, racing after the shadowy woman, away from the main corridor
into the Health Sciences Building.  She saw them duck into a stairwell
and followed them down two flights to the basement.  Terror ran with
Eden, speeding her heart to a breathless tempo.

The basement was a maze of halls, eerily shadowed.  David and the woman
disappeared through one endless hall, then another and another, each
darker than the last.  Eden tried to quicken her pace, but her legs
were leaden and it seemed to take forever to travel a short distance.

She rounded a corner and stepped into total darkness.  She tensed,
frozen like a snow sculpture.  "David?"

He didn't answer.  Where was he?  Had the woman done something to him?
Eden couldn't breathe at the thought.  Where was the woman?

A disembodied laugh rang from the darkness, and a glowing yellow light
suddenly filled the end of the hall.  The woman was still a shadowy
haze, reflected in the queer light.  But Eden could see David clearly,
and her heart was seized with pain.  He lay at the woman's feet, a
dagger protruding from his chest.

Horror riveted Eden in place for a full second.  She leapt forward,
railing at the woman with all her might.  As she reached David, she
dropped to her knees beside his lifeless body.  The eerie light shrank
from David and skimmed up the woman's body like a false moon.  Despite'
her fear for David, Eden couldn't resist its powerful lure; she lifted
her head and gazed at the woman.  The woman had no face.

Eden jerked awake.  Pitch darkness greeted her, momentarily
disorienting her.  Her body was damp with sweat, her heart pummeled her
chest wall.  It took long seconds to recall she was in a hotel room.
With David.  She sagged in relief and began shaking off the nightmare,
but as her roaring heart quieted, she realized the only breathing in
the room was her own.

She felt across the bed for David.  His place was empty.  Cold to the
touch.  She lurched to a sitting position.  Had he gone into the
bathroom?  "David?"

Silence.  She called out louder.  Still no answer.  She switched on the
bedside light, blinked against the sudden brightness and scrambled out
of the bed.  She searched the suite.  He was gone.  Like in her dream.
Her heart thumped unsteadily.

No.  She was being macabre.  The stalker hadn't gotten David.  But his
bed was cold.  He'd been gone for some time.

Worried and befuddled, she strode back into the bedroom.  A slip of
white paper was stuck to his pillow.  She let out a shuddery breath,
snatched it up and read quickly.  Her relief scurried away, and the
chilling sweat once again flushed her body.  Had he lost his mind?

No.  She forced herself to calm down and reason out his motives.  She
sank onto the bed, clutching the note to her heart.  He wouldn't have
gone to meet Rose unless something had convinced him she was no threat.
What?  She reread the note.  Nothing.  Not one little clue.

A noise from the living room startled her.  Was it the door?  David?
She leapt off the bed to investigate.  The door locks were still
engaged.  Disappointment rattled through her.  What had she heard?  The
storm?

She ambled back into the bedroom, catching sight of the note, now
crumpled on the floor.  Images of her nightmare replayed, and a fear as
chilling and harsh as the wind flailing the windows swept through her.
David might have come up with some reason to trust Rose Hatcher, but
she had no cause to believe the woman wasn't a cold-blooded killer.

What if she meant to kill him?

Eden grabbed the phone and dialed David's number.  After the twentieth
ring, she hung up.  Fear squeezed her chest.  She tried calming
herself.  It wasn't midnight; may he he hadn't reached the house yet.

Good.  She didn't want him meeting Rose alone.  She made two more quick
calls, then dressed and hurried downstairs to meet the taxi she'd
ordered.

THE DOWNPOUR was relentless.  The taxi maneuvered cautiously through
the water-clogged Seattle streets and onto the freeway.  Eden perched
uneasily on the back seat.  Her sense that something was wrong
increased with each mile marker they passed.  "Could you go a little
faster?"

The cabdriver glanced at her in the rearview mirror.  "I'm doing as
good as I can for the conditions, lady."

She knew he was.  He switched lanes, spewing a jet of water at a taxi
parked on the side of the road, jacked up, the driver changing a tire.
Eden gripped the seat with tense fingers.  Things could be worse: she
could be the passenger whose taxi had the flat tire.

They arrived on David's street after midnight.  Streetlights did little
to relieve the gloom.  The taxi pulled to a stop, and Eden peered
through the rain-streaked car window, immediately reminded of another
rainy night that she had sat outside this house.  It had looked
beckoning then.

Now it seemed dark and uninviting.  She glanced again at the
streetlight.  The power wasn't off.  Why weren't the lights on inside
the house?  Her bad feeling doubled.  Where was David?  He should have
been here long before her.  Was it his cab on the freeway?

"You getting' out, lady, or you want to go back to the hotel?"

"Getting out.  But I want you to wait."  She gathered her courage and
raced through the rain to the porch.  She lifted her hand to the door,
but the moment her knuckles connected with it, it swung open.  Her
nerves leapt.  "David?"

Her voice echoed eerily in the house, as if the whole place were devoid
of people.  Fixtures.  Furniture.  Life.  With her heart in her throat,
she stepped into the foyer.  "David?"

The silence brought her nightmare flooding into her mind again, the
vision of his dead body uppermost.  Striving to curb her fear, she
forced herself to move into the house and, starting with the living
room, she searched for him, turning on lights as she went from the
living room to the kitchen, to the office, to the spare bedrooms.

The bathroom door hung open, and there was a smear of something dark
red like fresh blood on the floor.  She drew a sharp breath, retreating
a step.  Fear prickled her neck and tightened her skull.  Was it
David's blood?  Would she find her nightmare had come true?

David's bedroom was at the end of the hall.  She realized a light was
on in there.  She approached with caution.  David's agonized voice cut
through the stillness.  "Eden!"

He was alive.  She scrambled to the bedroom door and froze at the sight
before her.  David was kneeling, gripping a blood-soaked dagger.  Again
he spoke her name in that same agony-choked voice she'd heard a moment
before.

Bt/t he wasn't speaking to her.

His cries were for the woman lying on the floor beside him, her face
turned toward the wall.  Her denim coat had a pool of dark liquid in
the center of her back.  Impossibly Eden felt she was looking at
herself.

"David?"  Her voice cracked.

He jerked as if he'd been struck by a whip.

He shifted toward her, lurching to his feet, rearing back in shock. His
eyes were filled with tears, then disbelief and confusion. "Eden?"

His gaze flicked between Eden and the woman on the floor.  "Then
who?"

The front door crashed open, and footsteps clumped down the hall,
coming closer.  Eden lurched around.

A uniformed police officer appeared in the doorway, gun drawn.
"Freeze."

Behind him, Kollecki materialized, his gun clutched in his beefy hand.
"Put the knife down, Doc."

David shook his head, and Eden thought for a heart-stopping moment that
the uniformed officer might shoot him.  But David held the weapon up
toward Kol-lecki.  "It's not a knife.  It's my letter opener."

"Put it down, Doc," Kollecki repeated more firmly.  David's body seemed
to go limp.  He dropped the letter opener to the floor, and the
uniformed policeman lowered his gun and rushed forward, yanked David's
arms behind him and began snapping on handcuffs.

Numb, Eden took a step toward David, but Kollecki motioned her back,
then went to check on the woman on the floor.  "Too late for this one.
Read him the Miranda, Joe.  Even though we've caught him dead to
rights, I want everything done by the book this time."

With that, Kollecki, who'd been a one-man task force set on making her
life a living hell, smiled down at her as if they were old friends.
"Good thing you called me, Mrs.  Prescott.  Love sure is blind.  Be
glad you wised up in time.  He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Chapter Sixteen

"You called Kollecki?"  David sounded stunned, hurt.

Eden cringed inside.  "Yes.  But I... David, I swear I only called him
because I was afraid for you."

Traces of shock still hovered in his mossy eyes.  He did believe her,
didn't he?

"Quit wasting your time on this guy."  Kollecki stepped between them
and pointed to the body on the floor.  "Don't you get it?  He killed
this woman thinking he was killing you."

Eden felt shock pulling the heat from her body.  She had no doubt
Kollecki was half-right--this woman had been killed because someone
thought it was her.  But David wasn't that someone.

Kollecki's accusation had a more violent effect on David.  He shouted,
"No!  I didn't kill anyone.  I was in the bathroom looking through the
drawers."  Kollecki rolled his eyes.  "For what?"

David's forehead furrowed as if he were trying to recall something.  A
long moment passed before it smoothed.  "Combs."

"Combs?  Hah!"  Kollecki shook his head and glanced at the uniformed
policeman.  "Couldn't make up his mind if he wanted to stab the woman
or comb her haft.  Now I've heard everything."

David scowled at Kollecki but didn't expound on his search for the
combs.  "I heard the board in the hall creak.  It does that if someone
steps on it.  Before I could investigate, something slammed against the
back of my head.  Knocked me out, I guess.  You can feel the lump if
you don't believe me."

Kollecki made no attempt to do so.  "How long were you out?"

"I don't know.  When I came to, I was holding the letter opener.  There
was blood on my shirt and hands."  He glanced down at his stomach, at
the dark splotches despoiling his shfttfront, swallowed hard, then
raised his eyes again to Kollecki.  "At first I thought I'd sustained a
cut of some kind, but I couldn't find a wound.  Then I realized whoever
had hit me might still be in the house.  I staggered in here to use the
telephone and found ... her."  He shuddered.  "I thought it was
Eden."

Eden could see Kollecki didn't believe David.  She knew exactly how
tenacious the detective could be, how he could use the truth against
his suspects.  "Don't say another word.  Not without a lawyer."

David glanced at her, then back at the body.  He shuddered again, but
the color was returning to his face, the shock subsiding.  "Who is
she?"

"You don't know?"  Kollecki asked.

David shook his head.  Kollecki glanced at Eden.  "You know?"

Eden glanced again at the woman on the floor.  "No.  I can't see her
face from this angle."

Kollecki leaned over the woman and, without touching anything, studied
what he could see of her face.  The tension in the room was punctuated
by his silence.  At length, the detective said, "Well, I'll be
damned."

He straightened and grinned at David.  "Unless I miss my guess, it's
the woman you came here to meet tonight, Doc."

"Rose Hatcher?"  David blanched.  "But her hair is waist length.
Red."

"Well, apparently to keep from being captured and returned to prison,
she whacked it off and dyed it black."

Rose Hatcher.  Eden's stomach lurched.  The irony of this made her
sick.  Rose's attempts to hide her identity had inadvertently
contributed to her own murder.  Eden began to shake.

Another uniformed police officer entered the room.  "The M.E. and his
crew are on their way."

"Good."  Kollecki's cheeks were puffed and red.  "The doc's going to
lockup.  Mrs.  Prescott, can one of my men give you a lift
somewhere?"

"No.  I have a taxi waiting."  Eden glanced uncertainly at David.  "Are
you taking David to Issaquah?"

"Yeah, but don't waste your time following.  You won't be able to see
him."

Concern filled David's eyes.  "He's right, Eden.  Please go back to the
hotel.  Keep the doors locked.  You'll be safe there ... and the
hospital might call about Beth.  I'll join you as soon as my lawyer
secures bail."

Kollecki chuckled at that.  "Don't expect the doctor anytime tonight,
ma'am."

EDEN REFUSED to answer the curious taxi driver's questions on the ride
back to the hotel.  Stiffly she stared out the window, feeling as flat
and lifeless as the fine drizzle now coating the streets.  Eventually
the driver took the hint, and the rest of the ride was made in
silence.

Still reeling, Eden entered the hotel lobby, feeling like a wraith
stumbling aimlessly through the graveyard that her life had become. She
checked the desk for messages and was grateful that on this night of
horrors, no one had called to say Beth's body was rejecting the new
kidney.  So far, her sister was alive and well.

It was more than could be said for Rose Hatcher.  Eden waited for an
elevator.  Had Rose been framed for Marianne DePaul's murder?  Had she
been just another pawn in the stalker's cat-and-mouse game?  If so, she
might have died no matter what Eden or David could have done to prevent
it.  Eden stepped onto the elevator.  What was the truth?  Was Rose
murdered because of what she'd known or because she'd resembled Eden
from the back?

Eden trembled.  Instinctively she knew it was the latter.  Cold seemed
to seep from her pores, chilling every inch of her, bringing on an
overwhelming fear.  She was meant to have died on David's bedroom floor
to-night--with David framed for her murder.  The stalker's obsession
had taken a macabre turn from fixated love to malevolent hatred.

The suite no longer seemed like an elegant love nest.  Just an
expensive prison.  She was exhausted.  Wiped out.  Dizzy.  Even though
she didn't expect to sleep, Eden crawled into bed with her clothes on.
But she did sleep, long and restless hours.

The telephone woke her.  Groggily she opened her eyes to the gray
daylight spilling through the room.  The phone rang again, and her
pulse revved.  Was it the hospital?  News of David?  She all but
shouted an anxious "Hello?"

It was David's lawyer.

"How is he?"

"Tired."  The man had a bass voice that conjured an image of someone
middle-aged, tall and snowy haired.  In reality, he was in his
thirties, short and balding.  "Detective Kollecki's been questioning
him all night.  You should know, he's determined to pin this on my
client'

Eden's heart sank.  She sat up.  Finding herself slightly light-headed,
she eased back onto the pillows and shut her eyes, trying to find
reasons to counter Kollecki's dogged determination to railroad David.
Her eyes came open as a memory rushed back.  "But he was hit over the
head.  Surely a doctor will confirm that."

"Already has, but Detective Kollecki's claiming the wound was
self-inflicted.  After the search his men did of Dr.  Coulter's house,
he thinks he has a rock-solid

Disquiet twisted her stomach into a knot.  "What did they find?"

"White rose petals in his refrigerator.  A white rosebush in his
backyard.  A green shirt Dr.  Coulter claims was stolen."  He spoke as
if he was ticking the items off a list.  "The shirt's covered with
dried bloodstains that Detective Kollecki seems to think will tie Dr.
Coulter to another of his unsolved murders."

"Whose?"

"I'm not sure ... but your former sister-in-law's name came up once or
twice."

"Val?"  Her throat was so dry she couldn't swallow.  Kollecki could
accuse David all he wanted, could find a whole greenhouse full of white
roses in David's basement, but she'd never believe for one minute that
he could kill anyone.  "Why?  What reason does Kollecki give for David
killing Valerie?  Or Rose Hatcher?  Or any of the other victims, for
that matter?"

"That's our ace in the hole.  My client has no motive in this or any of
the detective's cases."  He paused.  "Try not to worry.  So far,
they're only questioning Dr.  Coulter.  He hasn't been booked.  The
forensics team is still at his house.  Maybe they'll turn up something
that will point to the real murderer.  I'll call you later when I know
more."

Eden decided to call the hospital to check on Beth.  Denise Smalley's
voice rang familia fly in her ear.  "Fourth floor.  Transplant wing."

Eden considered hanging up, then realized it would gain her nothing.
She'd have to call back and she'd still have to talk to Denise.  "This
is Eden Prescott."

She heard a sharp intake of breath... as if Denise hadn't expected to
speak to her again... ever.  "You!"

"Yes, me."  Eden swallowed hard.  Had Denise thought she was dead? "May
I speak to my sister's nurse?"

After a weighted pause, Denise said, "I'll see if she's available."

There was a click on the line, and music filled Eden's ear.  A minute
passed.  Three minutes.  Five.  Seven.  She reached to press down the
disconnect button but was stopped by a voice issuing through the phone.
"Hello, Mrs.  Prescott."

Eden reset fled the telephone to her ear.  "How is Beth doing?"

"Her signs are good.  No indication of rejection so far, but it's early
days," she cautioned.

Relief skittered through Eden.  But the nurse's warning about "early
days" could not be dismissed.  Right now they had to take it hour by
hour.  It was dangerous to build unrealistic expectations.  At this
point, rejection could occur at any time.  But on a day when so much
seemed desolate, she couldn't help grasping the tiny thread of hope.
"Please tell Beth I'll be in in about an hour."

Eden stood.  Dizziness attacked, dropping her back onto the bed.  She
drew several deep breaths, but starting at the corners of her eyes, a
curtain of black seemed to be slowly drawing together.  She lowered her
head between her knees.

The curtain ebbed away, and soon the room came sharply back in focus.
She gave herself another five minutes, then stood again.  All
light-headedness had gone.  She showered, dressed, then took a cab to
the university medical center.

Her mind was on David.  She knew exactly how he had to be
feeling--trapped by Kollecki's unyielding tenacity.  She had
desperately wanted Shannon and Peter's murderer to be found, to absolve
her, to restore her reputation.  Neither had predicted the murderer
would turn the tables on them, that her vindication would cost David
his freedom.  His life.

The black thought lost some of its terror in the knowledge that the
forensics team was still searching David's house.  There was hope that
something would be found to clear him.  It would even be sweet justice
if that something made Kollecki eat crow.  The idea strengthened her,
and she arrived at the medical center heartened.

The lobby corridor held the expected swarm of activity, visitors and
personnel flitting to and fro.  The tantalizing aroma of espresso
slowed her steps.  She glanced longingly toward the cart set in the
solarium.  Wasn't caffeine bad for pregnant women?  She'd have to ask
her doctor before she indulged in any of her favorite double lattes.

She was about to turn away when she spotted Lynzy at one of the
solarium tables.  She was alone.  Eden hesitated.  Should she tell her
about David, or leave that up to him?  And let Lynzy.find out from a
news broadcast, or from someone who'd heard a news broadcast?  Better
that she tell Lynzy instead.

Lynzy's brown eyes widened, and a warm smile parted her lips as Eden
asked if she could join her for a few minutes.  "Sure.  Sit down. How's
your sister?"  "Fine."

"Don't you want some espresso?"

"Not now, thank you."  Eden didn't know how to begin.  She glanced
around to make certain they wouldn't be overheard.  No One sat near
enough for that.  Still, she leaned closer and lowered her voice.  "I
feel I ought to tell you what has happened so you will be able to
handle things if it becomes necessary."

"What kind of things?"  Lynzy peered over the top of her cup.  "You
look like it must be something pretty harsh."

"Harsh.  Yes, you could call it that.  Rose Hatcher was murdered last
night at Dr.  Coulter's house."

Lynzy gasped, then blushed crimson, obviously embarrassed by the
loudness of her response.  "Sorry.  Oh, not that she's dead.  I'm glad.
I've been scared silly since Doc said she'd escaped from jail.  Who
killed her?"

"We don't know.  But the police have David in for questioning, and it
looks as if they may charge him."

"What?  No way."  Lynzy shook her head like a stubborn child.  "Doc
wouldn't off anybody."

"We know that.  Let's just hope there's some proof."  Eden drew a shaky
breath.  "Lynzy, promise-me you'll keep this under your hat.  Don't
tell anyone."

"Not even Colleen?"

Eden sat back.  Lynzy was the only suspect on their list she trusted.
But if Colleen wasn't the murderer, she also had the right to be told
privately about David.  "Is she coming in today?"

"No.  She left a message that she was going to spend the day with her
mother."

"Then let's do this.  If anyone asks you about David being arrested or
at the police station, then try and reach Colleen and tell her.
Otherwise, it's our secret.  Agreed?"

"You betcha."

"I have to see my sister now."  Eden stood.  "Keep me posted--on Doc
and on Beth, okay?"  "Of course."

With her mind on David, Eden headed down the hall toward the elevators.
Alone in the crowd of people, she felt vulnerable, jumpy, fearful.
Someone had meant to murder her last night.  She'll have quite a shock
when she discovers I'm still alive.  Eden thought again of Denise's
stunned voice when she'd identified herself.  She tensed.  Maybe the
stalker already knew.

She squeezed into the elevator, her discomfort hugging her like a
cloak.  Could she reach Beth's room without seeing Denise?  The
security guard would be there.  The thought of him buoyed her.  But as
the elevator doors slipped open, she realized Denise would probably be
at the desk.  Fear shivered through her.  She couldn't get to Beth's
room quick enough.

Several people exited the elevator with her.  She turned toward the
transplant wing.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a woman lurch
out of one of the waiting-area chairs and rush toward her as if she'd
been waiting for the elevator.

Eden focused on the nurses' station ahead.  Denise was there.  Her gaze
drilled into Eden, and even from this distance, Eden could see she'd
been waiting for her.

Her mouth went dry, and her steps faltered.  Denise was rounding the
end of the counter, coming toward her.

"Eden?"  From behind her, a woman's voice sounded close to her ear,
stopping Eden cold.

She turned around and glanced into the familiar face, surprise darting
through her.  "What are you do' rag here?"

"THIS LITTLE SVATCH of doth doesn't prove a thing, Doc."  Kollecki
stopped pacing and dangled a tiny plastic bag at David.  "If Tagg can't
find anything at her house to verify your story, you're going down for
the murders of Rose Hatcher, Shannon Sinalley and Peter and Valerie
Prescott."

They were in Kollecki's office--had been since the forensics team had
found that bit of fabric under Rose Hatcher's body this morning.  David
watched the swinging plastic bag as if it were a pendant held by a
hypnotist.  His freedom depended on that bit of cloth.  His life.
Eden's life.  But Kollecki refused to warn Eden until they had proof of
the woman's guilt.  "This waiting is hell."

"We'll hear soon."  His lawyer spoke from his spot in a chair against
the wall.

"Even if you're right about this woman," Kollecki continued, "I might
charge you with harboring a fugitive."

David's head jerked up.  "Harboring a fugitive?"  Kollecki's little
black eyes were hot with impatience.  Waiting wasn't his strong suit.
"Suppressing information about an escaped convict's whereabouts--it's
the same thing."

"I called and left a message for Detective Tagg.  He didn't call me
back."

"He wasn't on duty.  Why didn't you ask for me?"  David damped his
mouth shut.  If he told the truth about that, it would only prejudice
Kolleeld against him all the more.

The lawyer said, "How did Miss Hatehe get into Dr.  Coulter's house?"

Kollecki stopped his pacing and lurched around.  "We found a broken
window in the basement."

"Tell Tagg to look for a key to my front door," David interjected.  "It
has to be how the other woman got in to take my combs, my green polo
shirt and the letter opener."

"If Tagg finds anything at all, I'll be sure he checks for that,
too."

The phone rang, sending David's heart into his throat.  He sat on the
edge of his seat.  Kollecki answered and assured them it was Detective
Tagg.

Even hearing only one side of the conversation, it was obvious that
they had the stalker.

David's body flushed cold, then hot.  He leapt from his chair, panic
scurrying through him.  "We need to warn Eden."

Kollecki signaled for him to use Tagg's phone on the opposite desk.

David called the hotel first, and as the clerk informed him Eden had
left for the hospital, his gaze fell on the scrap of fabric in the tiny
plastic bag.  As he'd known the moment he'd seen it, the hot-pink rayon
could only have come from one of Ariel Bell's uniforms.

With anxiety prickling him, he called the transplant wing and told
Denise to have Eden call him on his cell phone the moment she came in.
Then he phoned Lynzy.

"Kollecki!"  David slammed the phone down.  "We've got to get to the
hospital!  My student assistant said she spoke with Eden over half an
hour ago.  Eden told her she was going straight up to see her sister,
but the desk nurse claims she never showed up.  What if she ran into
Ariel?"

"Tvm OttoSTrOM IS, what are you doing still alive?"  Ariel's hand was
in her pocket.  "I've got a gun in here.  It's little but it would make
a nice hole in you."

The heat drained from Eden's body, and she realized she probably
resembled the ghost Ariel had thought she was.

"lVlrs.  Prescott."  Denise Smalley's voice brought Eden jerking
around, grasping at the chance of rescue.

Denise was some twenty feet away.  Eden took a step toward her, but
Ariel snatched her by the upper arm, jerking her back.  Eden felt
herself slam against Ariel's side, felt the hard barrel of the gun
pressing her ribs.  Ariel whispered, "One word and I'll use this." 
Eden doubted Ariel would do that... with Denise as a witness.  But she
knew if she cried out for help, Ariel was.  unstable enough,
unpredictable enough, to o anything.  Eden wouldn't risk endangering
others' lives.

Denise stopped ten feet from them.  A puzzled look crossed her face,
but before she asked the question hovering on her lips, Ariel said,
"It's okay, Denise.  I told her."

"Good."  Denise retreated as if she'd been spared a distasteful
chore.

Eden's heart sank to her toes.

"Come on.  We're going for a walk."  Ariel pivoted again, dragging Eden
with her.

Scrambling to think of some way out of this predicament, Eden offered
no resistance.  Like someone holding up an elderly patient, Ariel
steered her into the hall away from the transplant wing until they
reached the elevators to the BB Tower--the slowest elevators in the
state of Washington.

As the doors lurched closed behind them, Eden felt Ariel's grip on her
slacken.

Eden peered up at her.  "What did Denise think you told me?"

Ariel's grin was nasty.  "They've been trying to reach you at the
hotel.  Beth's body is rejecting the kidney."

Eden jerked as if the words were a fist smacking her.  Dizziness
wobbled her equilibrium.

"None of that!"  Ariel jerked her up, fingers biting into Eden's arms.
She was strong--likely from handling patients, likely from a strain of
madness.

I won't think of Beth.  Not now.  If I do, I might die... and then my
baby will die.  So help her God, she would do everything within her
power to prevent that.  But how?

The elevator slipped past the fifth floor.  The sixth.  Hadn't she read
somewhere that murderers liked to boast about their feats?  Maybe she
could buy some thinking time by getting Ariel talking.  "You've loved
David a long time, haven't you?"

She felt Ariel stiffen, but she remained tight-mouthed.  Eden guessed
she had no intention of answering The elevator rose past the ninth
floor.  Eden scrambled for another tack.

"Ever since I worked with his brother's daughter."  Ariel's voice
slipped out so softly it was nearly inaudible.

The elevator passed the eleventh floor.  Eden swallowed hard.  If she
said the wrong thing, it might set Ariel off.  She chose her words
carefully.  "What attracted you to him?"

"He was the kindest man I'd ever met."

Eden watched the lighted board illuminate floor thirteen.  Then
fourteen.

"He looked at me when he talked to me, you know, really looked at me,
as if he actually saw me.  Not like most men.  They're only after the
package, not the woman inside."

"You're fight.  David isn't that kind of man."

The elevator ground to a halt.  The sixteenth floor.  Ariel gazed down
at Eden, her gray eyes hard, flat stones.  "You'd know that better than
I, wouldn't you?"  The elevator doors joggled open.

Eden cringed, her stomach writhing with fear.  David was the wrong
subject.  She needed to steer clear of Ariel's defeats, concentrate on
what she probably considered her successes.

"Why did you kill Shannon?;' Eden dropped the question like a bomb.
Ariel tensed and glared at her.  Then, as the elevator doors started
closing, she hustled Eden out onto the sixteenth floor.

She steered her left, then left again, and Eden realized they were
going to David's office.  Why?  If Ariel intended to shoot her here, it
wouldn't be to frame him for another murder; David was still in
custody.  A damp chill brushed her skin.  She couldn't afford to waste
time trying to figure out Ariel's motives for anything.

Just keep her talking.  Eden struggled to recall what she'd asked.  Oh,
yes.  Shannon.  "Why did you kill her?  She had no romantic ties to
David."

"I feel bad about that."  Ariel grimaced, but if she actually felt
remorseful, it didn't show.  "Denise is my friend.  But it's her own
fault.  She thought Shannon had the hots for David.  I knew they spent
time together, but he didn't seem enamored of her the way Denise
claimed.  Then Denise told me she'd caught Shannon reading bridal
magazines.  I wasn't about to let the little twit take David from
me."

She said this as if she believed David and she had some kind of special
commitment.  If she weren't so frightened, Eden might have felt sorry
for this woman.  They passed one office, then another and another.  It
was lunchtime, and the corridor was deserted.  "Surely you realized
your mistake when you found her with Peter?"

"Well, that little joke was on me."  She laughed humorlessly "I thought
Shannon was alone.  When he came out of the bathroom and found me
standing over her body--let's just say he scared me as badly as I
scared him."  She laughed again.  "Actually I'd say I scared him
worse."

Eden shoved the awful visions out of her mind.  They stopped outside
David's office.  Ariel tried the knob.  Would Lynzy be there?  Eden
prayed not.  She didn't want the nice young woman harmed.  The door was
locked.

Eden's relief was short-lived, as Ariel produced a set of keys from her
pocket and unlocked it.  She shoved

Eden inside, relocked the door, then forced Eden through the first
office and into David's private one.

The door banged eerily behind them, and desolation settled around Eden
with ugly inevitability, as gray as the clouds outside.  She scanned
the desk and bookshelves for something to use as a weapon.  Her knees
were wobbly.  She spotted a paperweight on the corner of the desk
farthest from the windows.  Could she reach it?  Ariel brought the gun
out of her pocket and pointed it at her stomach.  "Get over by the
windows."

Shrinking away from the gun barrel, Eden walked backward until she
bumped against the heating unit below the windows.  She'd never reach
the paperweight from here.  Panic slithered through her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied the jade plant on top of the
heater.  It was in a weighty-looking ceramic container.  Could she
divert Ariel's attention enough to heft it?  "What was Valerie's
crime?"

"If you must know, she saw me following you.  Asked me about it when I
went to pick up my check.  I couldn't have her telling anyone." Keeping
the gun leveled at her, Ariel moved around David's desk and rummaged
through the top drawer.  She lifted out a pair of sharp-tipped
scissors, then moved toward Eden like a panther stalking her prey.

Eden blanched, eyeing the scissors uncertainly.  What did she mean to
do with them?  "Did you frame Rose Hatcher?"

That stopped Ariel.  With the hand holding the scissors, she ruffled
her wild hair and beamed with pride.  "I went to a lot of trouble
befriending that timid mouse.  Then I just left a few incriminating
items in her apartment."

Her gray eyes suddenly narrowed into slits.  "That sneaky Marianne
DePaul.  She meant to steal David away from me.  She was always hanging
around his office, eating in the lunchroom with him, calling him at his
brother James's house."

She glared at Eden.  "Butyou--you were the worst."  Eden chose that
moment to charge the bigger, taller Ariel.  She slammed into her with
all her might.  Her attack was as effective as a gnat hitting a
cockroach.  And it incensed Ariel further.

She dropped the scissors, grabbed Eden by the forearm and jammed the
gun against her belly.

"No.  Please.  I'm going to have a baby."

Ariel's eyes flashed with hatred.  Eden realized she'd made a miStake
mentioning the baby.  Ariel shoved her back against the heating unit,
then bent to retrieve the scissors.  Eden crossed her hands
protectively over her stomach.

Ariel thrust her body against Eden's, jammed Eden against the heating
unit, holding her there while she reached over Eden's head and poked
the scissor tip into the tiny, square window lock.  A special key was
required to open the windows on this floor, a key kept by security.  To
Eden's horror, the scissors worked just as effectively.  The window
swung open.

Cold stole into the office, cutting through Eden's clothes.  Ariel
stepped back, and Eden slumped, grabbing in a lungful of much-needed
air.  The gun barrel was pushed into her face, and Ariel' pointed to
the top of the heating unit.  "Up you go."

Eden shook her head.

"Now."  Ariel thumbed the hammer.

Eden froze.  "Please don't kill me."

"I'm not going to kill you.  You're going to commit suicide."

"No one will believe that."

"Yes, they will.  Your life is a shambles.  Everyone thinks you killed
your husband and his lover.  You're pregnant with the baby of a man who
will hang for murdering--" Ariel broke off, tilting her head.  "Who did
I stab last night?"

Eden let out a ragged breath.  "Rose Hatcher."

"Rose?"  Ariel shrieked with laughter.  "That's rich.  What was she
doing at David's?"

"She was going to tell David about you.  I think she saw you put the
rose on his porch after you killed Valerie."

"Serves her right, then."  She chortled.  "I can't wait to see
tomorrow's headlines.  Former suspect throws herself out lover's office
window after learning he's a killer, after learning her sister's kidney
transplant fails."

She jabbed the gun in Eden's ribs.  "Now, get on the heater."

Unless she could reach one of the jade plants and hit Ariel with it,
she was going to die.  Eden had never been more sure of anything in her
life.  "I can't get up there without a chair."

"Then drag one over."

Eden stepped to the high-backed leather chair, grasped the arms and
tugged.  Despite the fact she was holding something solid, her balance
wavered.  She swayed, then lost her grip.  The black curtain she'd
experienced earlier that morning slid across her eyes.  Eden crumpled
at Ariel's feet.

Ariel swore.  Then she decided an unconscious Eden was preferable to a
conscious one: no more arguing, no fighting and no screaming.  She set
her gun down,

squatted and scooped Eden up like an unwieldy grocery sack.  As petite
as she was, Eden's deadweight was an armful.

Grunting, Ariel straightened and staggered toward the window.  The
outer office door creaked.  Thenthe door at her back banged open,
galvanizing her.  Kolleckishouted, "Freeze, Ms.  Bell!"  Ariel didn't
even glance over her shoulder.

Kollecki said, "Turn around, real slow, and put Mrs.  Prescott down."

Ariel stood stiff with defiance.

David stepped into his office.  His gaze was riveted on what he could
see of Eden.  What had happened to her?  He spotted the gun on the
floor.  Had Ariel shot her?  Fear raced his heart.  But he knew any
quick movements might set Ariel off.

"Please, Ariel.  Don't hurt her."  David didn't know what else to say.
Before Ariel had tried framing him for murder, he'd have used her
affection for him to reason with her.  Now she hated him.  Nothing he
said would convince her to trust him.

Kollecki repeated his command that Ariel turn around and put Eden
down.

"The only place I'm putting her is out this window."  Ariel took a step
forward.

Kollecki shot her in the knee.

The bang resounded in the confined space.  Ariel screamed and crumpled
backward, tossing Eden free as she fell.  Eden's head cracked against
the desk.  David ran to her.  She was breathing.  But a lump was
forming at her temple, and he couldn't get her to wake up.

Chapter Seventeen

Light prodded Eden awake.  Carnations scented the air, and it took her
a moment to realize she was not in a garden but a hospital bed.  Her
gaze focused on a beloved face, and she smiled.  The effort hurt.
"David..."

He breathed a sigh of relief.  "It's so great to see those gorgeous
eyes of yours."

"Thank you for the flowers."  Dozens of red carnations seemed to occupy
every available space in the room.

"They're from Kollecki.  It's probably the only apology we can expect
from him."

Agreeing that his assessment of the detective was fight on, Eden smiled
wryly.  "Thank God he had the sensibility not to send white roses."

"More likely roses just cost too much."  David smirked, then leaned
over her.  "How are you feeling, love?"

She winced.  "My head hurts like the devil."  "Slight concussion."  He
lifted her hand and kissed the palm.  "It happened when Ariel dropped
you.  But the doctor assures me you'll be up and around by tomorrow."

Fear flushed through her at the sudden rush of memory brought to life
with that one name.  She gripped his hand.  "Ariel?"

"Down the hall.  Under arrest.  Kollecki shot her in the knee."

Eden shuddered and sank back on the pillow.  She' closed her eyes.
Then, as the pain eased, she looked again into the eyes of the man she
loved.  "Ariel told me everything.  She killed them all."

"I know.  The police searched her house and car and turned up enough
evidence to put her away for several lifetimes."  He kissed her
forehead.  "So I don't want you wasting one more minute worrying about
her."

Ariel was a worry Eden gladly relinquished, but her sister's failed
kidney surgery was utmost in her thoughts.  Her throat was dry, her
tongue thick.  "Beth?"

David grinned.  "Beth is great.  The kidney is functioning as well as
if it were an original piece of her anatomy."

Had she heard him right?  Yes.  He was grinning.  The icy cloak around
her heart shattered, and a joyful sob spilled from her.  "Ariel said
her body was rejecting the kidney."

"Ah, love."  His look of sympathy said more than words.  "She lied. Dr.
Ingalls says it is an incredibly good match.  She's already starting
to heal."

Tears of relief and happiness sprang into Eden's eyes, wetting her
lashes.  She swept her hands from her chin up to her eyes and felt a
lump in the general area of her right temple.  Pain spiraled through
her head at the gentle brushing of her fingers over it.  "How did I get
this?"

David edged onto the bed and braced his arms on each side of her body.
He told her as much as he knew of the events.  "You were unconscious
when I arrived.  Did Ariel hit you with something?"

"I fainted."  Eden blanched, recalling with a brand-new fear why she
had fainted.  Had Ariel dropping her harmed her baby?  She placed her
hands over her stomach.  "David, did the doctor check?  Is ...
everything else okay?"

He sighed, then sat straighter and placed his hands over hers.  "If
you're asking about this little baby... yes, everything else is
perfect."

He knew.  Eden's heart climbed her throat.  "The doctor told you?"

He nodded.  His mouth stretched into a thin line.  "Why didn't you tell
me about our baby, Eden?"

Eden's pulse tripped at his assumption that the baby was theirs.  How
could she tell him she didn't know who the baby's father was?  Would he
hate her?  Reject her?

Steeling herself, she spoke softly.  "I knew I couldn't keep it from
you much longer."  Somehow she managed to sound more calm than She
felt.  "But I had two reasons for waiting.  First, you have to know
that I'd never use a child to trap you into a lifelong commitment you
didn't want.  And second, you also need to know... this baby might he
Peter's."

She saw the shock register, then he grew thoughtful.  His eyes changed
from mossy to jade.  "What if the baby is mine?"

She could barely breathe.  "If he or she proves to be yours, I'll make
certain you have a part in your child's life... if that's what you
want."

"Do you love me, Eden?"

Did she love him?  How could he even ask?  She feathered her fingers
along his strong jaw.  "Enough to let you go... if that's what you
want."

He threw back his head and drew in a long breath.  Letting it out
slowly, he sought her gaze.  "I thought you didn't want the commitment
so soon after being widowed, so soon after coming out of a bad
marriage... so I didn't ask you to make any promises that would burden
you."

He kissed her fingertips.  "But me... I want to spend the rest of my
life with you and raise as big a family as we can together."

Gently he placed his palm over her belly again, his gaze hot with the
passion of his words.  "I don't give a damn about biology.  I already
know who the father of this baby is... me.  Is that what you want?"

Despite the ache in her head, she grinned with all the wonder and hope
and love that were filling her heart.  "That is definitely what I want.
For me and for our baby."