Autumn burst out laughing. They were driving north on Ashland Avenue now, almost at the school. It took several moments for her guffaw to die down.

"Sure, Detective. No problem." She pursed her lips and frowned. "Let's get right to it. Never was a husband, and at this rate there never will be. There's no current anything. And how do you want the others-would alphabetical work for you? Or how about according to the way I got the bad news-E-mail, beeper, voice mail, answering machine, or telepathy!"

She perked up a bit and waved her hand in the air. "Wait! I know! How about I organize the names by the man's neurosis-fear of commitment, fear of boredom, inability to stop lying, unclear sexual orientation, like that?"

Detective Quinn pulled up alongside Lakeview High School and cut the engine. He methodically removed his sunglasses and tucked them inside his jacket pocket. He waited for her to turn to him, and when she did, he saw tears in her eyes.

Despite the attitude, she was scared.

"Someone is threatening to hurt you, Miss Adams. I need to ask questions if I'm going to find him. Do you think we can work together on this?"

Autumn nodded slightly and brushed the tears away with a quick sweep of her hand. "I'm sorry for the snide comments. I'm just so incredibly pissed about this whole thing."

"About the letters or the boyfriends?"

Autumn exhaled sharply and noticed that his uneven grin had returned. "Both, since you asked."

It startled her when he reached inside his jacket and offered her a crisp white handkerchief.

"Thanks." She blew her nose with enthusiasm. "Look, Detective, I don't have a very good track record with men, OK? Nothing ever lasts very long. It's like after seven or eight weeks some green slimy and hairy thing with eleven eyeballs suddenly jumps out of the top of my head and the men start running for the nearest exit."