for a better one. She darted for the door.
Frank caught up with her in the doorway and jerked her to him. Rose brought her knee up, missing his groin but hitting his thigh. Grunting, he wrapped his fingers in her hair.
“Gotta do better than that,” he growled. His breath stank of black coffee and peppermint. “You all try to run.”
She slumped against him. He shifted to keep from overbalancing, giving her the opening she needed. She brought her knee up again, this time hitting him square between the legs. He grunted, his grip loosening.
She followed with a hard jab of the heel of her hand into his nose. He lost his hold on her, and she ran. He recovered quickly, gaining behind her.
She’d never make the front door, she realized.
But as she reached the door to Tina’s room, she heard Daniel’s voice as clearly as if he were beside her.
She skidded to a stop, grabbed the doorknob and lifted a prayer. Then she slipped inside, slamming the door behind her.
“YOU WANT WHAT?” Captain Green sounded incredulous.
“An A.P.B. on Frank Carter.” Daniel parked at the back of Rose’s house, relieved to see her car in the usual place.
“Just because he’s not answering his phone?”
“The notepaper the killer is using to send notes to Rose is the same notepaper his sister used to use.” Outlining what he’d discovered at his mother’s house, he got out of his car. “I don’t think it can be a coincidence.”
“My God.” Captain Green’s voice came out strangled.
The block was dark; the power was out. He grabbed a flashlight from his trunk. “We can sort it out once we find Frank. Get the A.P.B. issued. I’ll call you back.” He hurried down the steps to the house and tried the back door. It was locked. He knocked hard, hoping Rose was still awake. When she didn’t answer, he tried her cell-phone number again. A moment later, he heard a faint ringing sound behind him.
He rounded the side of the house, following the sound. He caught sight of a pale blue glow a few feet ahead. His heart in his throat, he took another step forward and looked down.
Rose’s cell phone lay in the wet grass, still ringing.
TINA’S DOOR had a push-button privacy lock, but Rose knew it wouldn’t stop Frank for long. She pressed it anyway and dashed to the only window in the room. Daniel had said Tina used to climb through the window to meet him on the wraparound porch. She tried the window. It didn’t budge. On closer inspection, she discovered it had been nailed shut from the outside.
Slumping against the sill, she gazed toward the door. She could hear Frank’s shallow, harsh breathing just outside. But he still hadn’t tried the door.
She surveyed the room. Photos of Tina and friends lined the oval vanity mirror across from the bed. A shelf above the dresser held several awards-cheerleading trophies, certificates of merit, even a small jewel-encrusted tiara sitting atop a folded white sash.
Mama’s little princess, Rose thought, not unkindly.
“Come out of there!” Frank’s sudden angry bark ripped at her nerves.
She remained silent, wondering how long Frank’s fear of his sister’s ghost would keep him at bay. Sooner or later, he’d screw up his courage and burst through the door.
Better be ready.
She looked around for something to use as a weapon. A baton leaned against the closet door, a pitiful excuse for a weapon. A softball bat would have been a big help.
“Why couldn’t you have been a tomboy?” she muttered.
Her gaze settled on an old-fashioned princess phone on the bedside table. It looked heavy enough to hurt. Grabbing the phone, she missed, knocking the receiver from the hook.
And heard a dial tone.
BREAKING THROUGH Rose’s back door was depressingly easy. He turned on the flashlight and surveyed the kitchen. Objects lay scattered on the floor-a lipstick, papers and a billfold. Hands shaking, he opened the billfold with his fingertip. Rose’s driver’s license photo stared back at him from inside.
He pushed to his feet, his chest aching with dread. “Rose, are you in here?” He started searching the house, terrified of what he might find just around the corner. Halfway up the steps to the second floor, his cell phone rang. A local number, no name attached. It looked familiar, so he answered. “Hartman.”
“Daniel, it’s me.” Rose’s voice whispered in his ear.
He grabbed the stair railing to keep from falling backward. “Are you okay? I can barely hear you.”
“I’m in Tina’s room,” she said.
His legs gave out on him and he sat in the middle of the stairs. “Tina’s room?”
“Frank’s outside. I think he’s afraid to come in here.” Her voice broke. “Please come get me.”
Her plea tumbling through his mind, he scrambled to his feet and down the stairs, two at a time. “I’m coming. Just hold on!” He flew through the darkened house to the back door and up the sloping yard to his car. He cranked the engine. “I’m coming, Rose-can you hear me?”
“Frank’s the Southside killer,” she whispered.
“I know.” He peeled out of the alley onto the street.
“Tell me what to do.” Her voice was tight with fear. “He said I looked like her. Can I do something with that?”
Daniel couldn’t think. He should be able to think, damn it! It was his job. He was good at it. But now, when it mattered more than anything in the world, he couldn’t think.
“You said he’s afraid of her ghost.” On Rose’s end, Daniel heard the sound of a door opening.
His heart froze. “Rose?”
“I opened the closet. There are tons of clothes here. I think I can fit into something.”
Daniel took a curve too quickly, the back end of his car fishtailing. He dropped the phone to the seat beside him and steered out of the skid. He grabbed the phone again. “Rose?”
“I’ll call you back.” With a click, the connection ended.
He started to hit the redial button but stopped. The phone ringing might break through Frank’s hesitation. He couldn’t risk it. He punched in Captain Green’s number instead. Tersely outlining the situation, he asked her to send units to Frank’s address. “Approach with care. He has a hostage.”
Hanging up, he weaved through the traffic on Highland Avenue, willing Rose to call him back.
ROSE SMOOTHED the plaid skirt over her hips, checking her reflection in the mirror on the closet door. The tartan skirt and navy cable-knit sweater would give Frank the fright of his life if he decided to break through that door.
“You have to come out sooner or later,” Frank warned. “Mama nailed the window shut.” He laughed, low and harsh. “The window had let her little princess out that night. Bad window.”
Ignoring his taunts, Rose picked up the phone and dialed Daniel’s number.
He answered immediately. “Rose?”
He sounded so frantic, she thought, tears stinging her eyes. “He’s getting angry. He wants me to go out there.”
“Good. He’s still afraid to come in there.”
“Should I be talking to him?”
Daniel was silent.
“Daniel?”
His voice dropped to a growl. “I can’t lose you, Rose.”
She sank onto the bed, her heart contracting. Tears welled in her eyes, painting the room in hazy watercolors. “Daniel,” she whispered, her throat tight with emotion.
Her cleared his throat. “Don’t talk to him unless he comes in before I get there. Then, talk about the murders. He’ll want to tell someone what he’s done. It’ll buy you time.”
A bang on the door made her jump. “I think he’s tired of waiting,” she whispered. “I better hang up-”
“No, don’t hang up! Put the phone down but leave the receiver off the cradle so I can hear what’s going
