GIBSON SCREECHED, BUT Varón took Kara’s cue seamlessly. He leaned down and gathered a handful of Gibson’s shirt at the back. Started to hoist the man up. “Whatever the lady wants,” he said. Gibson wailed. “Okay, okay,” he said. “His name was Alexander.” Kara’s heart came to a halt. Alexander. Adrenaline washed through her limbs. Her mind raced, trying to match the name to someone who hated her, someone who wanted to terrorize her and was willing to kill to do it. She couldn’t come up with anyone. Alexander. Alexander. “Was that a first name or last name?” Varón asked. “I dunno. I swear. He just said ‘Alexander.’ He only said it once, when he called to tell me where to meet him. He said, ‘This is Alexander,’ and then we set it up.” “What did he look like?” “Big dude. Not so tall, like you, but built wide. Like a gym freak.” “Go on.” “Light. Light hair, but army-short. Almost shaved clean. Always wore long sleeves. I remember that. It was summer, but he was in long sleeves.”
