Haley Summers, a youth organizer for PETA, was snoozing in her Prius on the morning of July 15th, 2002, when her cell phone trilled. Jerry was calling. For sex, probably. Drowsy, she drove to his pre-war townhouse on the waterfront, silently cursing the day she'd met the bastard. Closing his heavy front door, she contemplated tossing the key he'd given her to the foyer rug. Driving out of his life for good. She lost the thought and her breath when she saw him bloody and dead at the foot of hi...