Serial killer stalks Manhattan women--in a quick serviceable replay of a familiar formula, more romantic-suspense than police-procedural or psycho-horror. Hannah Wade--attractive, 35, divorced, a ballet teacher--is being harassed by an old high-school friend, Kyle Howard, who swears his undying devotion, sends love letters, and follows Hannah around even after she tells him a final goodbye. In addition, periodically, Hannah gets a dead rose in the mail, with a cryptic message--also from Kyle, Hannah assumes. Meanwhile, a mysterious 35-ish psycho, outwardly normal, has been slashing the throats of single N.Y.C. women. And Det. Richard Marritt (The Beethoven Conspiracy) is having no luck in tracking him down. Could these two parallel plotlines be connected? Of course--though even half-sophisticated readers will figure out early on that the psycho isn't the Obvious Suspect, but Someone Else. And after Hannah realizes that the rose-messages coincide with the killings, it won't be long before she's having that inevitable confrontation with the psycho. . .who now knows that she knows. Predictable, contrived, and flecked throughout with dubious psychology--but a pleasantly derivative, relatively tasteful mini-thriller, for those who prefer Upper West Side breeziness to real psycho-crime impact.