seeking out Nick Fensom as he reappeared in the doorway. Although he had a phone stuck to his ear, his blue eyes narrowed and focused on the petite brunette. She nodded at some unspoken message and turned back to Robin with a businesslike smile. “Unfortunately, the man was an accomplice, cleaning up after the Rose Red Rapist. Our serial rapist still eludes us—as does the woman who hired my attacker.” “A woman?” Stunned by her answer, Robin set the towels on the corner of her desk and laid the ice pack on top. She’d read in the Kansas City Journal about the task force’s suspicion that the serial rapist had an accomplice who helped erase evidence of the crime after each attack. But how could any female want to help a monster like the Rose Red Rapist? “Yes. Before my attacker died, he indicated that he’d been blackmailed into covering up the crimes by a woman.” She paled as she relived what must have been a terrifying experience for her. Nick Fensom disconnected his call and tucked the phone into his pocket as he strode across the room. He curled his fingers around Annie’s and squeezed her hand. The movement was subtle, probably unnoticeable to anyone who wasn’t already curious about the relationship between the two of them. “Everything okay, slugger?” There was no doubt that the two of them cared deeply for each other because Annie Hermann’s cheeks warmed with color at even that simple contact. She summoned a smile to ease his concern. “I’m okay.” Robin wasn’t the only one in the room who’d noticed the trading of comforts between the stocky detective and the CSI. “You two get back to work.” Spencer Montgomery excused his coworkers from the room before stopping across the desk from Robin and handing her one of his business cards. “If you think of anything else, give me a call.” “Wait a minute, Detective. Everything I’ve read about your task force says that the Rose Red Rapist abducts his victims and rapes them at another location.” “That’s right.” “Then why did he...rip my clothes right there in the alley? Like he was going to hurt me there?” “Maybe you foiled the initial attack by fighting back so hard. You messed with his routine. He lost his temper.” She could tell he was only speculating possible explanations. “If that man was trying to rape me...” She breathed through that frightening possibility before voicing her real concern. “Then why endanger my daughter? Why bother cutting up my backseat? He said he didn’t want the car. What did he want?” “I can’t answer that yet.” His cool gray eyes narrowed, as though assessing whether or not she could handle his response. She must look stronger than she was feeling at the moment because he continued. “After the Rose Red Rapist attacks this past year, our task force looks into any type of assault against a woman in this neighborhood. There’s an outside chance your attacker is the man we’ve been looking for, and something you did put him off his game. He could be copycat. He might have targeted you for some other reason. Any information we get that eliminates suspects helps us as much clues that point us to our unsub do.” “Unsub?” “Unknown suspect. Even without the mission of this task force, I’m a cop. We don’t like criminals hurting anyone here in Kansas City. Whether this attack is related to my investigation or not, I intend to look into it thoroughly.” “Good. Because I like answers, too.” Answers to why her business was either missing money or keeping shoddy records in her absence. Answers to why that man had singled her out tonight—was she just a crime of opportunity because she’d stayed late? Or had she been targeted for more personal, more unsettling, reasons? Seeming to appreciate that she was on the same page with him, the red-haired detective extended his hand across the desk. “Be safe, Ms. Carter. I’ll be in touch.” Robin shook his hand.