“Rushdie was right,” Hayes muttered, “our lives do teach us who we are. Even better, your life will teach me who you are, Dani Gwynne. Once it has, I’ll end it.”
For a moment his temper had almost gotten away from him when his contact inside the police department had let him know too late for him to get Gwynne at Ryan’s house. He would have enjoyed doing her in the suburbs. He had always hated his parent’s milieu. Lucky for his snitch the Feds had gone away empty-handed, too.
What would she do next, he wondered, fingering his knife in anticipation. It was an interesting problem. Absently he tested the blade, leaving a beaded, red trail along the edge of his finger. He sucked the cut as he read a photocopy of Gwynne’s file detailing her interest, among many others, in the Internet.
The f
