people passing. No, not ignoring the glares—reveling in them, because that’s what it was all about, getting attention, making people scared of you.

I glanced again in the mirror, focused on the young man doing all the bragging and felt a familiar swirling in my gut.

What if he was a target, a hit?

First, I’d have to get him away from the pack. There was always an opportunity. Nature would call. Or he’d decide he needed a Coke. Maybe a cigarette. Or he’d whip out his cell and step outside for better reception.

Once away from his pack, I’d need to be able to identify him from a distance or find him in a crowd, even if he was with twenty guys who could pass for his brothers. Distinguishing features? A puckered scar on his left earlobe, as if he’d pierced it himself, then changed his mind. I noticed the wear pattern on his navy high-tops, the soles worn along the outside of the heels, as if he walked slightly bow-legged. His clothing could always be changed. Yet someone suspecting a tail rarely changes his footwear. Shoes and jewelry. Always make a note.

As he talked, a jangling underscored his words, and I traced it to a chain hanging off his belt. I closed my eyes and memorized the sound. Then I noted the sound of his voice, the inflection, the accent.

My target said something to his buddies, stepped away and headed for the doors.

“You ready?” Jack’s voice startled me. He lifted a tray of coffees and bagels.

One last glance after my target, then I nodded and followed Jack out of the terminal.

We dined on stale bagels and lukewarm coffee, consumed in the ambience of engine thunder and jet fuel fumes.

“So what’s the plan?” I said as I perched on the hood of Jack’s rental car. “Have you met with the other guys? Come up with some theories?”

“Nah. Figured you’d want to do that.”

I stopped licking cream cheese off my fingers. “Meet the others? If I can avoid it, I’d really rather—”

“Not meet them. I agree. Stay under the radar. Work with me. That’s it.”

“So you and I…we’ll be working together?”

He looked over at me. “Thought that was understood. Watch each other’s backs. That a problem?”

“No, I just…I wasn’t sure. I know you work alone, so I thought maybe you’d just set me on a trail or a lead. But working with a partner is how I’m used to doing things—or was, as a cop, so that’s fine by me. How are we going to coordinate this with the others, then? A conference call to toss around theories, come up with a plan of action, divide the work…”

I stopped, glancing over at Jack, who was staring out at the runway, face impassive.

“There’s no meeting, is there? Long distance or otherwise.”

He shook his head. “These guys? Not much for teamwork. Me neither.”

“And I totally get that. But in this case, we need to coordinate our efforts, if only to ensure we cover everything and…” I met his gaze. “And it’s not happening, is it?”

He shook his head. “One guy I tried pulling in? Already in custody. Better keep to ourselves.”

“Well, what’s our game plan, then?”

“Start by filling me in. Who’s he killing? Where? Patterns? Methods?”

“I don’t know a damned thing about these killings, Jack. I’ve told you I’ve been trying to forget that part of my life, stop following the cases.”

“Oh.”

“Ah, you thought I’d just said I’d stopped. I know he’s killed four people in the past week or so, and that the last one was strangled.”

“Four states. Four methods. That’s all I know.”

“Shit, we really are starting from ground zero, aren’t we?”

Once we were on the highway, Jack handed me a bag. I reached in, pulled out a wig and sighed.

“Figures. Get a guy to buy a wig, and he’s going to go blond every time.”

“Small store. Two choices. Blond or red.”

“I like red.”

“Fire-engine red.”

“Cool.”

“Be thankful I didn’t pick clothing. Almost did.”

“What were you going to get? Miniskirt and fishnets?”

I put on the wig, then looked at the rest of my outfit. I wore jeans, a plain white T-shirt and a denim jacket—an all-purpose ensemble that, with the right accessories, could run the gamut from preppy-casual to biker-chick-trashy. Normally, I’d fall somewhere in the middle: the nature-girl look, with wash-and-wear hair, fading summer tan and tinted lip gloss. Given Jack’s choice of disguise, more makeup was a must. I opened my makeup case, applied enough to scare myself, then took a tissue and pared