“Let’s get this third victim identified,” said Ava. “It’ll bring us a giant step closer to stopping that hunter and figuring out why these deaths are personal to him.”

Ava was still in her car, about to get out and head to her office, when her personal phone rang. She studied the unfamiliar number and went against her better judgment, answering the call.

Jayne sobbed at her voice.

After a few moments of Jayne’s unintelligible ranting and tears, Ava drew some coherent words out of her twin.

“He thinks they’re going to kill him,” Jayne blurted.

Ava’s bullshit meter shot up, but she managed to calmly ask, “Who? Who are you talking about?”

“Derrick. Derrick says they’re going to kill him.”

The name rang a faint bell. The other set of fingerprints in Mason’s home had belonged to a Derrick. “The guy you’re with?” she asked.

“Yes! You’ve got to do something! Is there a safe house you can hide us in? I know we can’t come stay with you!”

Damn right.

“Jayne, why are you hanging around with this man? It sounds like it’s dangerous.” She spoke with a measured cadence, trying to get her sister to slow down her own words.

“I love him! And he needs someone to help him!”

Ava closed her eyes. Jayne was either high or drunk. Ava was wasting time trying to have a logical conversation. “Jayne, you need to find a place where you’re safe. He doesn’t need your help.”

“Oh, Ava. You don’t understand. Someone followed him last night, and he only got away because he knew where to hide. He says the guy had a gun.”

“Jayne,” Ava said firmly. “Tell him to go to the police.”

“He can’t.”

“Why not?” Because of his long record?

“The police won’t help him. They never help him. He doesn’t know what to do.”

“Is it because he’s wanted by the police? For break-ins? Like stealing a TV and our mother’s necklace?”

Jayne sucked in a ragged breath.

“Where’s Mom’s ring on the chain, Jayne? If you sold it for a measly five dollars so you could buy something to drink, I’m never speaking to you again.” Ava’s voice cracked and tears burned at the corners of her eyes. “You two broke into Mason’s home and stole! And we know it was you. There are fingerprints everywhere.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“You don’t under—”

“What makes theft okay for you? What has dragged you so low that you would steal from me and my friends?”

“I didn’t know you were living with him.” Jayne fumbled for words.

“Of course you did. You followed me to see where I was going. You knew full well I was living there, because you took Mom’s necklace out of the drawer! Where is it?”

“I still have it,” she whispered. “I couldn’t sell it.”

Relief swept over Ava. She could be lying. “If I find out you’re lying—”

“I’m not,” Jayne cried. “I’m wearing it right now. It’s all I have left. I had to move out of my apartment because you wouldn’t help me and all my stuff is gone!”

“Where are you living?”

“I can’t tell you. Derrick says—”

“Jayne. Derrick is bad news. You need to get away from him. I can help you find a place, but first you have to let him go,” Ava pleaded, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. How many times had she had this conversation where she begged Jayne to change her behavior?

It never worked.

“I can’t leave him. He needs me.”

“He needs you for what? Sex? To whore yourself for money for both of you?”

Jayne was silent, and Ava wanted to scream.

“I’ve always said I’ll help people I see trying to help themselves. What you’re doing doesn’t remotely resemble helping yourself, Jayne. You’re digging your hole deeper and deeper.”

“He’s afraid they’re going to kill him and hang him off a bridge. Like those other guys,” Jayne whispered.

A drug user’s paranoia. Ava wanted to bang her head on the steering wheel. “Why does he think that, Jayne?”

“He won’t tell me. He’s terrified and says we have to hide.”

“Jayne, I don’t know what kinds of drugs you’ve been doing with Derrick, but you know that no one thinks clearly when their brain is messed up. I know you’ve heard this a thousand times. And the two of you are using, right?”

She didn’t answer.

“What are you on, Jayne?”

“It’s just a little pot.”

Right. “Derrick is paranoid. Even a little pot causes that. Do you know there are warrants out for his arrest? No wonder he’s paranoid, Jayne. He’s constantly looking over his shoulder for the police.”

“He says he didn’t—”

“Jayne, I don’t care what he says. He lies. You lie. Nothing ever changes.” Ava’s head throbbed with the pain radiating from her clenched jaw. “Maybe I can find you a spot in a women’s shelter. Do you have a safe place right now?” In the background Ava heard the sounds of cars, people, and what she suspected was the MAX light rail line. It sounded like Jayne was in downtown Portland.