She sat on the couch, cradling a cup of herbal tea between her palms as she attempted to distract herself with a late-night television talk show. But the host’s opening monologue failed to make much of an impression. Two minutes into his discussion with his first guest, a vapid blonde with collagen-enhanced lips, she clicked off the remote. She hadn’t heard from Trevor since the previous evening when they’d had dinner together. After Dante’s taunting phone call, he’d waited in tense silence for an officer to relieve him and then he’d gotten into his car and headed to Coliseum Square. Rain had watched his taillights recede into darkness as the wail of police sirens shattered the neighborhood’s quiet. A few hours later, the local news confirmed Dante’s vicious claim. Another girl dead. Rain had to wonder if it was all because of her. Picking at the fringe on the couch’s embroidered pillows, she silently urged Trevor to call and let her know what was going on. The cop downstairs in her kitchen seemed to know little beyond his assignment of keeping guard.
