“Luke” She sounded odd and, after spending all night with a twisted, sadistic murderer, Luke’s system began tojump.
“Is everythingokay?”
“I need you to come up here. Now,” was all she said before cutting theconnection.
“Shari?” he yelled into his cell, already heading out the door at a run. But the call hadended.
He tore up the stairs faster than he’d ever run in his life, reaching her door in less than a minute from the time she’d called. “Shari?”
He pounded on the door and it opened slightly. His panicked brain realized there was a shoe stuck in the door holding itajar.
He shoved through, wishing he had something other than his bare hands to use as a weapon. Somehow, in his fatigued brain, he’d known the killer would go after the psychiatrist as the surest way to destroy the cop. Luke had to stophim.
It took a second or two for panic to recede and amazement to take itsplace.
Shari Wilson stood in the middle of her apartment living room. There were candles scattered around the place sending dancing flames and some kind of exotic scent into theair.
Soft music played, but all of that registered only in the haziestfashion.
For Shari was spectacularly, gloriously,naked.
