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When Lisa dropped Jennie off at nearly five thirty at the medical examiner's office, Irene was already waiting for her in front of the building. The sky had lightened to a foggy gray, but the morning was still dark enough that Jennie was very glad she didn't have to walk inside alone. From the easy wave Irene gave her as she approached, Jennie knew they were about to play the everything's-fine game and pretend they hadn't just argued at the crime scene.

That worked for Jennie.

"How in the world did you beat me here?" Jennie said lightly as she carded them into the building. "I saw you standing on the sidewalk as we pulled away."

"I drive like a cop." Irene chuckled lightly as they walked down the still-deserted hallway to Jennie's lab. Their shoes squeaked on the tiled floor, so loud that Jennie couldn't help searching every dark, empty doorway they passed for fear they were announcing their presence to some unseen enemy. "Remember?"

"We did go on some pretty wild rides together." Stopping in front of her lab, Jennie willed her hand not to shake as she swiped her card through the reader, then opened the door. She stepped into her sanctuary with a sigh of relief. For whatever reason, she felt as safe in her lab as she did at home. Probably because, for a workaholic like her, the lab was her second home. "Is the body en route?"

"It is." Irene held up a zippered plastic evidence bag that contained a cell phone, and another smaller bag that contained the victim's jewelry. "I brought the rest of the evidence."

"That's all she had on her?" Jennie sat at her desk, watching silently as Irene pulled over a chair to sit at her side. Regardless of their personal history and their current tension over Lisa, she and Irene had always made a good team. She didn't know anybody she'd rather have by her side on this case, anybody she trusted more to help find this killer before he could hurt anyone else.

"That's it. No wallet or purse, unfortunately."

"He likes to take their purses," Jennie said softly. He'd taken hers, hadn't he? "Maybe he keeps them as trophies."

"Or else he's just trying to slow down the identification process." Irene shrugged, pulling two latex gloves from a cardboard box on Jennie's desk. She slipped them on and dumped the cell phone out of the bag.

"At least he left the phone behind. Maybe we can find her name in here."

Jennie watched Irene power on the phone and flip through menus with a flick of her thumb. What bothered Jennie most about this murder was where it had happened. Not only the proximity to her apartment, but the open, public nature of the kill site. From her cursory examination of the body, she estimated that the murder had taken place between twelve thirty and one thirty in the morning. While her street certainly wasn't the most heavily traveled in San Francisco, it was close enough to a few popular bars that it attracted moderate foot traffic even in the middle of the week. That traffic wouldn't make it impossible to kill a woman in that alley without being detected, but taking the risk indicated a killer with real confidence.

Was that confidence earned or merely foolish?

Irene gasped sharply, eyes shooting up to meet Jennie's in a way that turned Jennie's stomach to stone. "That woman. Did you recognize her? Did you know her?"

Jennie had stared at the woman's face long enough to know the answer without thinking. "No, of course not. Why?"

Biting down hard on her lip, Irene held the phone so Jennie could read the on-screen text. It was the call log. The last recorded outgoing call was at the top of the list, made just after one o'clock in the morning.

To Jennie's cell phone.

Jennie felt the blood drain from her face, leaving her light-headed and dizzy. "Oh, my God."

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