It was just after two in the afternoon when Maria Sanchez opened the door of her apartment and hugged Katherine without a word. "Hello, detective," she said over Katherine's shoulder to Elizabeth, tears in her eyes.

"Mrs. Sanchez," Elizabeth greeted her warmly.

Maria invited them in, closed the door, and led the two women into the living room.

"How are the children, Maria?" asked Katherine, not wanting to upset the grieving woman by asking how she was feeling herself. All you had to do was look at her anyway. With her dark circles under her watery eyes, she gave the impression that she hadn't slept in a week. The woman was a wreck.

"They miss their mama," Maria said. "And I'm very careful around them, but it's getting harder. Every time they ask about Rosa, I'm close to telling them the truth. Sometime soon I'm sure it will slip out."

But as fixated as Maria might be, Katherine immediately noticed that the apartment was even tidier than the last time they had visited. The toys that were lying around then were gone now. She also noticed that the coffee table was an improvised shrine: the framed picture of a smiling Rosa flanked by two candles.

Maria saw that Katherine was looking at it. "I'll put it away before the kids get home from school," she explained.

"I'll call the morgue later and see when you can bury Rosa," Elizabeth said suddenly.

"Thanks, but the doctor already called this morning and told me she needs Rosa for a while. So you can save it." Mary looked the detective straight in the eye. "Do you have any news for me?"

"I wish we did," Katherine forestalled her sister and stepped to Maria's side. "But if we do, you'll be the first to know." She took Maria's hand in hers. "We're here today because we need your help."

"I told you I'd do everything I could to help you." She motioned for the two of them to take their seats. "But we have to hurry. I have to pick up the kids soon."

"We wanted to ask you about the days and weeks leading up to Rosa's disappearance."

Maria looked at the two women long and hard. "Why is that important?"

"Because we're pretty sure the man who did this to Rosa either knew her or at least had been following her, maybe even spying on her," Katherine replied, letting go of Maria's hand again.

"My God," Maria muttered now. "You don't think the children are in danger, do you?"

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. "No, but if we ever believe it, your grandchildren will be watched by the police at every turn, and we will post a patrol car outside the house for your protection. I promise you that will happen at the slightest suspicion." Her gaze flitted briefly to her sister before she continued. "What I have to ask you, Maria ... I may call you Maria, mayn't I?"

"Of course, detective."

"Okay, Maria," Elizabeth continued. "We're going to spend many hours together, and I want you to be as comfortable with me as I am with you. So please call me Liz, okay?"

Katherine could already see Mary letting her guard down. She understood what her sister was doing and that it was because of years of experience dealing with victims. It's one thing for a patient to go to a psychiatrist like her for help. But it's another thing entirely when a cop comes knocking on the door. Even if they are victims, most people fear the police. Liz is depending on Maria to trust her.

"Yes ... Liz," Maria said hesitantly.

"I'll give you my cell phone number," the detective said, taking out one of her business cards and a pen from her pants pocket and writing her cell phone number on the back. "If you ever have a question, don't understand something, or need my help with anything, and of course, if you think of anything that can help us find your daughter's kidnapper, you can call me day or night. And I mean that exactly. Even if you just need to talk. Okay, Maria?"

A smile hinted around the corner of Maria's mouth. "Yes," she said, recognizably taken by Elizabeth's kindness. She grasped the detective's hand in thanks. "What exactly do you want to ask me?"

Elizabeth placed her second hand on Maria's. "Do you remember anything in the days leading up to Rosa's disappearance that struck you as a little strange, a little unusual?"

"Strange in what way?"

"In every way," Elizabeth replied, gently withdrawing her hand. "Perhaps you noticed someone outside the building who seemed suspicious, someone who didn't belong there, who was watching you, Rosa, or the children a little too closely. Or phone calls where someone dialed the wrong number or hung up again. Someone who rang downstairs at the entrance, and then no one answered when you asked who there was. Mail from an unknown sender. Something."

Maria didn't hesitate for a moment. "I've been thinking about that since the day Rosa left," she replied. "And other than the phone call from the man who said Rosa went to Connecticut, I don't remember anything that struck me as odd."

"Good," said Elizabeth, who remained positive even as she wished Maria could help her further. "And what about Rosa? Did she tell you anything about strange happenings in the days before she disappeared?"

"No, nothing," Maria replied with a shake of her head. "She was happy, actually. Happier than I've seen her in a long time." She looked to Katherine. "She said you helped her. She talked about you all the time, how much you meant to her."

Maria's chin began to tremble, and Katherine had to use all her control not to do the same. She would have liked to tell Maria that Rosa was special to her, but she limited herself to a nod. Elizabeth knew what to ask next, but Katherine found her voice again and beat her sister to it. "Maria," she said, "if it's okay with you, Liz and I would like to look at Rosa's things."

"Of course," the older woman replied. "But what are you looking for? I've already searched her bedroom. I thought maybe I'd find a note or something that would tell me where she went. But I haven't found anything."

"That was good thinking, Maria," the detective now commented. "It may be a terrible idea for you now, but I will always be honest with you: We have to consider the possibility that Rosa knew the man who kidnapped her. And there might be something in her room that doesn't tell you anything, but has great significance for us."

Something might turn up ... Elizabeth's words reminded Katherine of the strange receipt that had been discovered with Rosa's bones. "Maria," she said quietly, "do the words Emigrant hasta mean anything to you?"

"No," Maria answered without hesitation. "Why do you ask?"

"Because those words were written on a receipt from the deli where Rosa worked. The receipt was found along with her remains."

Maria's eyes snapped open. "Are her killers sending us a message?"

"We don't know," Katherine replied, standing up. Her sister did the same. "But if you think of any connection between the words and Rosa, please let us know."

Maria led them down a short hallway to Rosa's bedroom. "Do what you have to do," she said before sighing loudly. "Look everywhere in the apartment. Come back as often as you need to. But see that justice for my little girl is served."

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He picked up a black Magic Marker and stood in front of his crossword puzzle.

Who's next, he pondered, and a smile came to his lips.

He admired his work. the letters R-O-S-A-C-A-S-T-I-L-L-O fit neatly into their respective boxes. He had rid the world of yet another parasite, and it gave him a sense of complete mastery. He was the master of his universe, and no one would be smart enough to stop him from filling the grid with more names.

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Elizabeth and Katherine entered Rosa's bedroom, which seemed to have changed little since she was a child. Rosa had frilly curtains in front of the window. A white four-poster bed with a matching dresser across from it. The furniture was of cheap make but still in almost perfect condition, a neatly lined up family of stuffed animals filled the bookshelf. She had taken great care of all her belongings.

"This is a very nice place, Maria," Elizabeth said.

"I've lived here a long time," the older woman replied, "and I'm glad I still can. Rent control."

"Rosa has kept her room clean," Katherine remarked.

"Since she was an adult, yes," Maria replied, standing in the doorway. "I left it that way when she got married and moved in with Franco." A half-smile flitted across her lips. "It didn't look like that when she was young, believe me. But when she and the kids moved in here, she wanted to set a good example. That's why she put her stuffed animals -" She fought back the tears that were welling up, it was too much for her, "I guess I'd better leave you to it."

"We won't be long," Elizabeth promised.

Maria went back into the living room. Katherine thought how hard it must be for the woman to live with the constant reminder of the child she had lost. Katherine knew the feeling well. A muffled sound snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see her sister lifting Rosa's mattress. "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for Rosa's diary," the detective replied with furrowed brows, surprised at her little sister's question. "If she had one. Little trick a psychiatrist taught me."

Katherine smiled a little. If only she'd had a diary. She had once suggested to Rosa that she write down her thoughts and feelings. Rosa had replied that she didn't like to write and would rather talk to Katherine about it.

"Well, I guess that was wishful thinking," Elizabeth sighed, lowering the mattress again.

Katherine remained silent. Something bothered her, a thought she couldn't put her finger on. She scanned the room with her eyes: the stuffed animals, the frilly curtains, the childlike appearance of a room occupied by an adult. It looked a lot like her own room at her parents' place. Is that it? I grew up privileged, Rosa almost in poverty. We are so different and yet so much alike. Her eyes went to a framed picture on a bookshelf, Rosa and her daughters. Suddenly it seemed to her as if the room was closing in and slowly spinning around her. Her heart raced, and she could hardly breathe. The smiling faces of the girls seemed to step out of the picture and became young Elizabeth and Katherine.

"Are you all right?" asked Elizabeth anxiously.

Katherine calmed down a little again, and then she perceived that her sister had put an arm around her shoulder and was holding her because the detective was afraid she might faint. "I need air."

"Come with me," Elizabeth said, leading her sister out of the room. "Maria," she called out in the hallway, "we have to go, but we'll be back."

"Sorry, I'm in the bathroom," Maria's voice sounded from behind a closed door.

"No problem," Elizabeth replied. "We'll find our way out on our own."

Katherine was relieved that Maria didn't see her in this state.

Elizabeth led her little sister down the stairs and out into the street, where the muggy air hit them like a wall. "I don't know if you're breathing easier out here," the detective said, leaning the younger woman against her car. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Katherine replied, hanging her head, "but it's better out here. I can breathe again."

Elizabeth was still concerned. "The nearest hospital is only a few minutes away," she said, and it almost sounded like a command.

"I don't need a hospital. Besides, I work in one, remember?" retorted Katherine. "I can go there later if there's a problem. But I'm fine now." But she knew she wasn't fine. And she didn't understand the sudden appearance of her past in her everyday consciousness. Why now?

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Katherine marched down the corridor of her own hospital with a determination that surprised herself. Elizabeth had just dropped her off, and during the ride spent mostly in silence, Katherine had felt increasingly better. She began breathing consciously and mapping out in her mind exactly what she would do.

When she entered Dr. Galloway's anteroom, she hoped to find her mentor and get help.

"Kate," said Galloway's assistant Sara, a friendly African-American woman who was always dressed in bright red and yellow, which cheered Katherine up. "Dr. Galloway is looking for you."

"I'm sure she is. I need to see her as well," Katherine replied in a more urgent tone than intended. "When she has time," she added more temperately.

Sara was not used to seeing Katherine so upset, who was usually calm and collected. With a worried expression, she already had the phone in her hand. "Dr. Isles is here," she reported.

Before Katherine could say another word, the door to Galloway's office opened, and her mentor appeared in a dark blue outfit that was more conservative than most of what she wore.

"Come in, my dear," Galloway said.

"Thank you," Katherine replied, hurrying inside and quickly settling into her favorite spot, a corner of the comfortable sofa.

Galloway closed the door and came to the point unceremoniously and unusually sternly. "You've been gone for days, canceling patient appointments and letting your colleagues take over your rounds," she said, even before taking a seat across from Katherine. "None of this is like you at all, and I expect you to explain what's going on."

Katherine nervously slid back and forth in her seat. Of course, she had expected something like this, she wasn't stupid. But she hadn't thought it would come so soon. She could hardly blame her mentor, though, because Galloway was already more lenient with her than she deserved anyway. "I met my sister again."

Now it was Galloway who seemed uncomfortable. "About Rosa Castillo?" she asked disapprovingly.

"Yes," was all Katherine could get out. She knew the truth was her only chance.

"After I more or less ordered you to leave the matter to the police and stay out of it."

But Katherine wasn't about to go down without a fight. "I was concerned about her welfare, and I felt it was my duty to make sure she was all right. And I was right."

„In which way?"

Katherine knew she had to go all the way. "I'm sorry I went against your wishes, Doctor. But I must ask you to keep what I am about to tell you confidential."

"But of course, my dear," Galloway replied immediately. "I am your therapist. I can't tell anyone what you confide in me."

"She was kidnapped, and I saw it happen," Katherine began, recounting all the events of the past few days to her mentor. When she stopped talking twenty minutes later, Galloway clutched the arm of her chair.

"And your involvement in all of this is with the knowledge of the police this time?"

"They asked me to."

"You should have been honest with me, my dear," Galloway rebuked.

"I know, but I had instructions not to tell anyone -"

"I understand that, but I'm not just anyone," Galloway retorted firmly.

Katherine sat there like a child caught swiping a candy bar. She couldn't argue with Galloway, who was undeniably right.

"Still, you were acting in your patient's best interest," Galloway said suddenly.

It sounded to Katherine like her mentor was trying to find a way to let her get away with it.

"Dr. Galloway," Katherine began, "you have always been understanding and accommodating of my situation. I've asked you for more than I had any right to expect -"

"Stop," Galloway said, raising her hand.

But the young woman couldn't stop talking. "It's like I've been pulled back into the vortex of last year. Only this time there's a new twist -" She paused, thoughts swirling through her head. "I ... I should have told you I called Liz," she brought out with difficulty.

"Kate. I know. It's fine."

"Yes?" asked Katherine finally, hesitantly.

"You went a little past the point where I would have stopped," Galloway continued, sighing, "but the bottom line is you did what Paul Curtin trained you to do. Albeit overzealously."

"Are you going to ask me to stop?" asked Katherine, dreading the answer.

"No," Galloway replied, "because I know you have to do it, for you and Rosa. But you have to keep me in the loop. You have to balance it with your work here. And if I hear that you're ... let's say 'misbehave' like you did last year, I'm going to have to change my mind."

"I didn't take it as 'misbehaving,'" Katherine said, trying hard not to sound too defensive.

"You cut your hair and dyed it a different color to lure a serial killer," Galloway reminded her. "That's the kind of thing the police can do, but not a psychiatrist, not even a forensic psychiatrist."

Katherine pressed her lips together before licking them. "I promise I'll stay back," she said, though she didn't know if she'd be able to keep her promise. "But we're dealing with a real mystery, and we're not overly optimistic that we can solve it."

Galloway shifted her sitting position and crossed her legs. "Maybe fresh eyes at it could beat that," she suggested.

Katherine looked at her mentor and wondered if that was really the woman she knew. Was Galloway so intrigued that she wanted to be part of the investigation into Rosa's murder? "What do you mean by 'fresh eyes'?"

"You're still teaching Walter's class, aren't you?"

"Yes," Katherine said. "I'm on tomorrow morning."

"Then why don't you make it a course project?"

Katherine tried hard to hide her surprise that Galloway would even suggest such a thing. And yet she saw the potential benefit; after all, she and Elizabeth were at a kind of dead heat. But in the next moment, she dismissed it as ridiculous. "That's an interesting idea," she began, "but BPD is so paranoid about leaks that they would never agree. And we certainly don't want the BCU to be responsible if the investigation is damaged."

"How so?" asked Galloway, who was an experienced psychiatrist but new to the field of forensic psychiatry, and only too happy to relinquish the research fellowship program once a suitable candidate was found to succeed Paul Curtins.

"The police will argue they can't risk a group of students learning details about a case that only the perpetrator could know. That could create problems with evidence if the case goes to trial."

"You don't have to tell them everything, just what's in the media anyway," Galloway suggested. Which, of course, wouldn't work.

"But there was nothing in the media about the last murder -" Then Katherine paused and smiled. "I know how it could work."