Pausing outside the Beachway Diner, she wondered longingly if Brie was working this afternoon. She thought again how much she missed her old friends.

On impulse, she pushed open the door and walked inside.

BRIE WAS STANDING behind the counter, and when she saw Elizabeth, her expression grew wary. Then, a split second later, she smiled and motioned to an empty booth near the windows. Elizabeth nodded and walked over to sit down. After a few minutes. Brie came by with the coffeepot.

"It's been ages!" she said cheerfully. "How've you been, Elizabeth?"

""Well, considering I found two dead students in the last two months, not so good."

Brie gave her a sympathetic smile. "I heard about what happened. It must have been horrible."

Elizabeth nodded, her stomach going hollow at the memory of those bodies put on display. She couldn't help but believe the hanging was somehow symbolic. "It was bad. but I'm more worried about those girls' families."

"You always were strong," Brie said.

Elizabeth stared at her in surprise. "I...was?"

"I don't know who else could have gone through what you did in high school and come out so normal. All that teasing you had to endure just because you were younger and ten times smarter than everyone else. Kids can be so cruel, and all because your intelligence intimidated them. I always admired you for the way you handled yourself."

"You...did?"

Brie smiled. "You always did underestimate yourself, Elizabeth. I guess it's rea.s.suring to know some things haven't changed." She poured Elizabeth a cup of coffee. "So what brings you to this part of town anyway?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Would you believe, I happened to be in the neighborhood?"

Brie glanced at the clock on the wall. "Business is pretty slow. I can take a break in a few minutes if you'll hang around?"

"Sure." It was only two o'clock. Check-in at the inn wasn't for another hour. Until then. Elizabeth had absolutely no place to go or be.

But as if fate decided to take a hand in her plans, the door opened and Kat Ridgemont hurried inside. She waved to Brie, then glancing around, spotted Elizabeth and strode toward her.

Elizabeth had always marveled at the way heads turned when Kat walked by. She was tall and sleekly slender with long, black hair and dark eyes fringed with thick lashes. Dressed in a leather jacket over a T-shirt and jeans, she somehow managed to look tough and graceful at once.

"I thought I saw you walk by my office." she said. "I called out, but I guess you didn't hear me. You looked as if you were a million miles away."

"Sorry." Elizabeth motioned to the empty side of the booth. "Join me for a cup of coffee?"

Kat slid into the booth, folding her hands on the table as she leaned forward. "I've been meaning to call you. Cullen told me you're consulting on the investigation into these murders."

Elizabeth's gaze widened. "Cullen told you that? When?"

Kat shrugged. "The other day. I don't remember when exactly. We've helped each other out on cases from time to time, and we were talking..."

Her voice faded as Elizabeth suddenly became preoccupied with an image of Kat and Cullen...together. It made her feel terrible because Kat was so much more Cullen's type than she would ever be. Elizabeth doubted he would have kicked someone as s.e.xy as Kat out of his bed.

"...keep thinking about Claire," she was saying.

Elizabeth frowned. "What?"

Kat gave her a bemused look. "I said I can't help wondering if the killer is the same psycho who kidnapped poor Claire. If he's the same one who murdered my mother."

Any resentment that might have been building for Kat dissolved like mist in sunlight. "I've wondered the same thing myself," Elizabeth admitted.

"From what I understand, the MO isn't the same, though."

"Not altogether, no," Elizabeth said carefully. Even with a friend, she couldn't go spouting her mouth off about the cases. "But that doesn't necessarily mean anything. After twenty years, the killer could have changed his MO, either deliberately or through a natural evolution of his appet.i.tes."

Kat's gaze turned dark. "What if it is the same guy who kidnapped and tortured Claire? What if the killer's ident.i.ty is locked up somewhere in her tormented mind?"

"Then she could be in danger." Elizabeth said. "But we've always known that. That's why her mother keeps her in Glen Oaks. The security is excellent."

Brie came over then, and Kat slid over in the seat to make room for her. "We were talking about Claire. And about the murders."

Brie shuddered. "Elizabeth and I were just saying what a horrible thing those girls' families are having to go through."

"Yes," Kat agreed, her gaze clouding. "Murder is horrible. And before another family is put through the same h.e.l.l, I think the three of us should take a ride out to Glen Oaks and see Claire."

"The last time I went, they wouldn't even let me in to see her," Elizabeth warned.

Kat nodded. "I know, but they tell me she's getting better. Maybe if she sees the three of us, it'll trigger something for her. The last time we were all together was that night."

"But Tasha was there, too." Brie reminded them sadly.

For a moment all three fell silent, caught up in the lingering grief over past tragedies, but then Kat shrugged off the melancholy. "Look, I know it's a long shot, but I've always believed if Claire is ever going to remember, if she's ever going to open up to anyone, it'll be us. I say we give it a shot." Kat turned to Brie. "Can you get away?"

Brie hesitated, then nodded. "My shift ends in another hour. I like to spend all my free time with Nicole, but my mother is taking her to a birthday party down the street. I'll call and tell her I'll be late. I think you're right. Kat. We have to talk to Claire. At the very least, we owe it to her to try and help her get her life back."

They clasped hands, and though their mission was a grim one, Elizabeth felt a camaraderie she hadn't experienced since that fateful night in St. John's Cemetery.

GLEN OAKS was a private inst.i.tution located on the outskirts of a tiny village about a hundred miles west of Moriah's Landing. Safely tucked away behind an electronic fence which was artfully disguised by thick hedgerows of hawthorn, the white Colonial-style building was an elegant affair with a wide, sweeping drive lined with red oaks and sugar maples bursting with buds. Beds of winter crocus dotted the manicured lawn, and a stone fountain trickled near the entrance.

A nurse led them down an antiseptic hallway where the clatter of food trays could be heard through open doorways. "You girls came at an opportune time." She lowered her voice as she ushered them into Claire's room. "She's had a good day."

The room was decorated much like a young girl's bedroom, in pink satin and lace with mountains of stuffed animals on the bed. There was a vanity, but no mirror, and the gla.s.s in both the window and the door was doubled-paned and reinforced with wire mesh. Almost impossible to break.

Claire was seated in a rocking chair in front of the window, staring out across the sculpted lawn. She didn't turn when they came inside. She gave no indication whatsoever she was even aware of their presence.

She'd changed so much since that terrible night. She'd always been fragile-looking, with long, gorgeous hair and a pale, delicate complexion. But she was even more frail now. The cotton dress she wore hung like a sack from her lean frame, and her hair, though neat and clean, had lost its glorious l.u.s.ter.

Kat went over and knelt in front of her, placing her hand on Claire's knee. "Claire? It's Kat. Brie and Elizabeth are here, too."

Brie walked over and knelt beside Kat. "Hi, sweetie," she said in a soft, soothing tone, much like the one she undoubtedly used when she spoke to her little daughter. "What a pretty dress you have on!"

For the first time, Claire showed a slight reaction, a hint of emotion. She turned her beautiful blue gaze on Brie, and something that might have been a smile flickered across her features.

The nurse said to Elizabeth. "She loves to have her hair brushed. That might help relax her."

Elizabeth walked over to the vanity and picked up the brush, noting that the bristles were soft and pliant. Nothing that would cause any harm. She went to Claire and began stroking her hair, taking great care to be gentle.

After a moment, Claire's shoulders visibly relaxed. She still said nothing, but at least she wasn't screaming the way she had the last time Elizabeth had seen her. Elizabeth had heard those terrified shrieks all the way down the hallway, all the way home and sometimes in her sleep, she still heard them.

Tears smarted her eyes, but she willed them away.

Kat glanced up at Elizabeth, uncertainty flashing in her dark eyes. Elizabeth knew what she was thinking. How did they approach someone as fragile as Claire about what had happened that night? How. in good conscience, could they make her relive that nightmare?

Because it might save another young girl's life.

It might save Claire's own life.

Still, they would have to be very, very careful.

Claire reached a hand and touched Kat's cheek. Then she stroked one finger along Brie's curly red hair. "Pretty hair." She lifted a hand and felt her own limp strands. "I used to have pretty hair."

"Oh, honey, you still do," Brie whispered.

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly. This was so much more difficult than she'd even thought.

"Claire, we want you to know something." Kat said. "We looked for you that night. We would have done anything to find you, to help you. We're so sorry we let you down."

"Hurt me," she whispered.

"Who?" Kat pressed gently. "Can you tell us who hurt you. Claire?"

"Hurt me again," she said more insistently.

"We won't let him hurt you again." Kat's dark eyes flashed with anger. "I promise you that."

"Hurt me."" Then louder. "Hurt me! Hurt me! Hurt me!" A high keening emanated from Claire's lips, and Elizabeth stopped brushing her hair and stepped back. What had they done?

She remembered the awful guilt she'd felt that night when Claire had disappeared, how she'd been so certain it was all her fault because she'd been thinking about Cullen.

G.o.d help her, she was still thinking about Cullen while poor Clairea"

She glanced up and saw him standing in the doorway.

It was as if her thoughts had conjured him from thin air. His gaze went from her to Claire, and a look came over his features that Elizabeth had never seen before. It was a combination of compa.s.sion, disbelief and a harder emotion that might have been determination.

"Get a nurse," Elizabeth said.

He turned, but before he could move, the nurse who had shown them in came bustling into the room. She went over and took Claire's arm. helping her out of the rocking chair. "There, there." she crooned. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

She led Claire to her bed. and Claire lay down, curling herself into the fetal position while she clutched a pink bear to her chest. Her eyes were squeezed tightly closed as she rocked back and forth. The keening had stopped, but Elizabeth thought the silence that followed might even be worse.

"She needs her rest now," the nurse said briskly. "But I hope you'll come back again. It's good for her to have visitors."

"But she got so upset," Brie said worriedly.

"Yes, she did," the nurse agreed. "But any response is better than none at all."

Chapter Fifteen.

It was late by the time they left Glen Oaks. Darkness had fallen in earnest, and as they exited the curving drive and pulled onto the main highway, Elizabeth could see a full moon rising over the treetops.

She rode with Cullen although she hadn't wanted to at first. She still felt awkward with him, but he'd made a point of asking her in front of Brie and Kat, and Elizabeth didn't think she could turn him down without arousing her friends' curiosity. If she'd insisted on riding back with them, they might have asked questions, and she didn't feel like talking tonight.

Earlier, she'd have given anything for someone to confide in, but now all she wanted was some peace and quiet to think about everything that had happened.

She stared silently out the window for the first several miles of the journey. If Cullen spoke to her, she answered in monosyllables. Finally he gave up and put in a Bauhaus CD. The dark, edgy music was the perfect accompaniment to her mood.

When they were almost home, he turned down the sound. "Okay, what's with the silent treatment?"

Elizabeth shrugged.

"Now you're just being childish," he accused. "You can at least answer me."

She turned to face him. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything that's on your mind."

"My mind is a complete blank."

"You don't want to talk about your friend, Claire?"

"No." Which was true. The memory was still too raw.

"Do you want to talk about what happened in my apartment?''

"No!"

"I think we need to," he said softly.

"Well. I don't," Elizabeth folded her arms defensively. "What is there to say? You made your feelings perfectly clear, and for your information, now that I've had time to think about it, I agree with you. You're not the right man for me."

He threw her a startled glance. Then he frowned. "When did you come to that conclusion?"

"When you gave me no other choice." She turned back to the window. "I've been thinking about everything you said, and you're absolutely right. A woman like me needs candles and romance... whatever." She waved her hand absently. "My first time should be special, with a man who knows how to...you know. Someone older, perhaps, and sophisticated. Someone like...like...Lucian LeCroix." She slanted him a glance and saw his features harden.

"What the h.e.l.l does he have to do with this?"

"He seems to fit the criteria you have in mind for me. He and I are both college professors. We come from similar backgrounds. We have a lot in common."