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“You didn’t see what he sent over an hour ago?”

I pulled out to Hwy 321. “Nope. What was in it?”

“The entire file on Denny Rasmussen, and it wasn’t pretty. We're talking things like letters with pictures of her going to work, going home. He had pictures of her in her classroom. Harris determined those were taken about thirty feet away from the school, so he was inside the school’s property. Then there was the woman’s finger he sent to her, with a fake diamond ring on it. He asked her to marry him in that package.”

“He killed a woman?” I shouted.

“According to the police, this finger had been frozen and immersed in formaldehyde. It was taken from a corpse.”

“So why wasn’t he arrested?” I shouted again.

“Couldn’t prove any of this was him. When the finger showed up on her doorstep, he was out of town on a business trip, plenty of witnesses.”

“So what! He had someone else deliver it.”

“There was nothing definitive to prove it was him, but Harris believed it was Rasmussen, so he got the order of protection. He had her re-up it every year when it expired.”

“And that stopped the guy?”

“Not according to Harris. About the time the restraining order went into effect, he started dating someone new. But she broke up with him three months ago.”

I slammed my hand against my steering wheel so hard that it hurt. “Fuck!”

“That’s what I said.”

“And the principal?”

“She’s small potatoes. However, there is something interesting. There is a state senator who is pushing the principal to settle the suit.”

“What does he have to do with Marlowe’s wrongful termination? Is he a friend of Marlowe’s?”

“Don’t know. Need to ask.”

“I will this afternoon.”

“What the hell, Kai? I thought you were going to stay with her.” Simon sounded pissed.

“I didn’t leave her at her house. I left her at the Whispering Pines. Nobody will know she’s there.”

“Hell, Kai, half the town knows you’re dating. If she’s not at her house, the next logical place to look will be at your hotel room.”

“I’m not an idiot. I got her a different room than mine. It’s under the name Randy Dickerson.”

Simon laughed. “Were you channeling a thirteen-year-old boy when you came up with that name?”

I sighed. “It was the first fake name that popped into my head. Give me a break.”

“And here I wanted to talk to you about a job. If that’s the best you can come up with, now I’m not so sure.”

“I told you, I’m only passing through.”

“Seems to me you have a girlfriend who is staying permanently, and you’re doing physical therapy on someone that is going to need it for at least six months according to Doc Evans.”

“Can it, Simon.”

“Have you talked to your brother yet?”

“I should be today.”