The tickertape running across the bottom of the screen read: Fourth Midnight Killer victim murdered at fiance's downtown Atlanta nightclub.

Sh.e.l.ley dropped her spoon into the almost empty bowl. Metal against ceramic clanged loudly in the quiet room.

"Was Shontee Thomas one of the actors in the p.o.r.no movie Midnight Masquerade Midnight Masquerade?" a TV reporter asked the special agent in charge.

Wainwright looked downright uncomfortable, as if trying to decide just how truthful he should be in answering the question. Apparently deciding that the info was easily accessible to anyone with an Internet connection, he replied, "Yes, Ms. Thomas did have a small part in the movie."

"Then isn't it obvious that she's the Midnight Killer's fourth victim?" another reporter asked while others clamored to be recognized.

"After we receive the medical examiner's report, I'll make an official announcement."

Wainwright was bombarded by a barrage of questions as he ended the brief interview and walked away from the microphone. "Do you believe all the actors from that particular movie are in danger?" "Do you have any suspects at this time?" "What can you tell us about the killer's MO?" "Is there anything, other than the fact the four victims were former p.o.r.no actors, that link these murders?" "Is it true that Ms. Thomas had a personal bodyguard and that he was also killed?"

The camera swept over the slew of reporters outside the Rough Diamond nightclub and then panned out to show the crowd of curiosity seekers already congregated, even at this early hour.

Lorie set her coffee mug on the table and laid the remote down alongside the mug. "Shontee had a bodyguard."

Sh.e.l.ley's confident gaze collided with Lorie's nervous stare. "I know what you're thinking. Don't. Just because the killer got past Shontee Thomas's bodyguard does not mean that he'll get past me."

"I don't doubt your ability to protect me," Lorie said. "But you're only human, as was Shontee's highly trained bodyguard. They just said that the killer murdered her bodyguard, too."

"You not only have me, but you have the sheriff's department keeping a close watch and you have yourself, too. You own a gun and know how to use it. But if you'll feel safer with more protection, I'm sure we can arrange to add a second bodyguard to this detail."

"A second bodyguard?" For half a minute, Lorie actually considered the suggestion. "No. I feel like a charity case as it is. I can't ask the Powell Agency to provide two bodyguards when I can't afford one."

A lull in their conversation allowed them to hear the morning show anchorman's next statement. "And now to Joelle Piette, a reporter from our local affiliate in Atlanta. Joelle is speaking to Calvin James, the head of security at the nightclub where Shontee Thomas and her bodyguard, Tyrell Fuqua, were murdered last night."

The camera zoomed in on a young, attractive black woman with striking green eyes, her expression serious and concerned as she turned to the man at her side. The six-foot-plus black man with linebacker shoulders and neck stood at rigid attention, his dark suit jacket open to reveal a bloodstained white shirt.

"What can you tell us about the murders that took place inside the Rough Diamond last night?" Joelle asked.

"It came down around midnight," Calvin told her, his gaze riveted to hers and not the camera. "We've got surveillance throughout the building. An unknown man was seen with Ms. Thomas shortly before midnight, upstairs in the hallway leading to Mr. Johnson's private suite."

"Mr. Johnson is Anthony Trice Johnson, the owner of Rough Diamond and several other nightclubs throughout the South." Joelle looked into the camera as she spoke. "Shontee Thomas was his fiancee."

"That's right," Calvin said, as if Joelle's comments had been questions. "As soon as I was informed about the intruder, I took two of my men and headed for the elevator." He shook his head as if still not quite able to believe what he'd seen. "We found Tyrell and some redheaded woman in the elevator, both of them dead."

"And what did you do then?" Joelle asked.

"We took the stairs to the third floor."

"Is that where you found Ms. Thomas's body?"

Calvin nodded. "She was lying there, all shot up and b.l.o.o.d.y."

Four uniformed policemen appeared as if from out of nowhere and two flanked Calvin while one spoke to Joelle and the fourth motioned for the cameraman to end filming.

"You don't have the right to stop me from talking to the press," Calvin told the policemen. "Mr. Johnson wants people to know what happened to his fiancee. He wants to send a message to the killer."

Suddenly, the screen blurred and then went blank before the morning news anchor reappeared and hurriedly said, "We seem to have lost our live feed. But we will continue with this breaking story when we return from our regularly scheduled commercial break."

Standing in the back of the crowd a.s.sembled outside the Rough Diamond, he watched as the police escorted Calvin James away from newswoman, Joelle Piette. No one-not the police, the FBI, the press, or Tony Johnson's security team-suspected that the person who had killed three people inside the nightclub only hours ago was now watching the media circus at close range.

When he had finished with Ebony O around midnight, he had gone back to his hotel. After he had put the fatal shot directly into her head, he had removed her clothes and then taken the mask from the briefcase he had brought with him. He had hidden the case on the third floor until he needed what was inside. Once he'd fitted the mask over her face, he had stuffed her clothes into the briefcase and made his way down the hall to a window that led to the fire escape. He had barely made it down the metal ladder to the alleyway behind the club before he'd heard someone shouting about the open window. He should have taken time to close the window, but he had known that every second counted. Clutching the briefcase, he had run up the alley for two city blocks and then entered his hotel through the back entrance.

After carefully removing the fake mustache, nose, chin, and hairpiece, he had taken off the theatrical makeup and showered. A few hours of restful sleep had been more than enough to revitalize him. On the way back to the Rough Diamond, he'd stopped at a fast-food place for coffee and a biscuit. Initially, he had intended to simply walk by, check out the scene, and circle back to his hotel. His flight home left at 11:55 A.M A.M. But when he saw that a crowd had gathered, he joined them, acting like nothing more than an interested bystander.

Before he left Atlanta, he would mail the new batch of letters, one each to Puff Raven, Cherry Sweets, Sonny s.h.a.g Deguzman, Lacey b.u.t.ts, and Candy Ruff. Four down, five to go.

When Jack and Cathy showed up at her back door a little before nine, Lorie knew that they had probably seen Special Agent Wainwright's interview on the morning news.

Sh.e.l.ley unlocked and opened the door for the couple. Cathy rushed to Lorie and hugged her. Neither said anything for a couple of minutes; they just gave and accepted comfort.

"We'll keep Treasures closed today," Cathy said as she glanced at her husband. "Jack's going to stay here with you and Ms. Gilbert for a while this morning."

"Look, there's no reason for me not to go to work," Lorie a.s.sured her best friend. "If I stay at home, I'll go stir crazy. Besides, staying home today won't change anything. It won't change the fact that Shontee is dead and that I could be next on the killer's list."

"Show her the newspaper," Cathy told Jack.

Grimacing, Jack handed Lorie her morning newspaper. She eyed it as if it were a wriggling snake. "Is this my paper?"

"Nope, yours is still in the box. This is our copy of today's Huntsville Times Huntsville Times," Jack said. "Page B-1, on the front page of the Region section."

Cathy stared at the newspaper as Lorie pulled out the Region section and discarded the rest, letting the pages fall haphazardly to the floor. The headline read: p.o.r.nO STAR ON KILLER's. .h.i.t LIST p.o.r.nO STAR ON KILLER's. .h.i.t LIST. The cropped photo accompanying the article had been taken from an eleven-year-old publicity photo. In this particular shot, she'd been wearing a thong and a come-hither expression and nothing more. The picture had been altered to make it acceptable for the north Alabama readership.

"Oh, Lorie, I'm so sorry," Cathy said.

"Half the town gets the Huntsville Times. Huntsville Times." Lorie quickly scanned the article, then read one brief paragraph aloud. "Ms. Hammonds, co-owner of Treasures of the Past, a Dunmore antique shop, is the former fiancee of county sheriff Michael Birkett. The sheriff's department has taken a special interest in protecting Ms. Hammonds, at taxpayers' expense, even though a private female bodyguard has been provided to protect Ms. Hammonds twenty-four/seven."

"That d.a.m.n little weasel." Lorie glared at the byline. Ryan Bonner. "Mike is going to be furious when he sees this."

"He's seen it," Cathy said. "Jack has spoken to him twice this morning. First to tell him about seeing Special Agent Wainwright's interview and then to tell him about the article in the Times. Times."

"It's not fair that Mike will be judged guilty by a.s.sociation." Lorie crushed the newspaper in her hands.

"It's not as if most folks didn't already know that you and Mike were once engaged," Cathy told her.

"But that was old news, dead and buried in the past," Lorie said. "Ryan Bonner has made it current news. How is something like this going to affect Hannah and M.J.? Don't you think some of the other kids at school are going to ask them about it? And you've got to know that there will be at least one smart-mouthed kid who'll ask what they think about their dad having nearly married a Playboy Playboy centerfold." centerfold."

"You let Mike worry about his kids," Cathy said. "You have enough to worry about as it is without-"

The phone rang. Four sets of eyes stared at the cordless telephone on the kitchen counter. Sh.e.l.ley picked up the phone and checked caller ID.

"It's a local number." She hit the On b.u.t.ton. "Hammonds residence." She frowned. "Do not call again or I'll report you to the authorities." She laid the phone back on the counter and faced the others. "It's started again. I'll have to disconnect all the land lines so we don't have to deal with the phone ringing all day long. If the security system didn't require a landline phone, I'd leave them disconnected."

"Let them ring," Lorie said. "I won't be here. I'm getting ready and going to work."

"I don't recommend your doing that," Jack told her.

"Are you my keeper now?" she asked. "Did Mike turn me over to you?"

"He placed me in charge of your case."

"Fine. I knew he planned to..." Lorie paused to take a deep, calming breath and quickly rethought her decision to rush off to work. "How long do you think we'll have to keep Treasures closed?"

"I don't know," Jack said honestly. "A few days, maybe longer. It depends on whether or not there are more articles about you in the newspaper."

"And if there are?"

"Then the best course of action is to keep Treasures closed indefinitely."

Maleah and Derek had been brought back to Knoxville via the Powell jet at the crack of dawn that morning and had arrived at Griffin's Rest in time for breakfast. Although Griff and Nic were dealing with the murder of Powell secretary Kristi Arians, they had set up a meeting for all the top agents involved in the Midnight Killer case. The agency had been hired by the next of kin of two of the victims and they expected a call from Anthony Johnson or his representative before the end of the day. And they were representing, pro bono, Charlie Wong's family. The facts that Lorie Hammonds was Maleah's sister-in-law's best friend and Griff counted Jared Wilson among his close acquaintances changed the dynamics of the case for the agency. This case was personal.

The Powell Agency's main headquarters was housed in downtown Knoxville, in a renovated building Griff had purchased a number of years ago. The structure had been renamed the Powell Building in honor of its billionaire owner. A small group of administrative a.s.sistants, including the office manager, ran the day-to-day operations of the agency and reported directly to Griff and/or Nic. Fifty people, counting the in-the-field agents, were employed by Powell's. The computer experts worked in various capacities, but mainly doing research. The bookkeepers handled the finances, including taxes, accounts payable and receivable, and payroll. Griff kept former FBI profiler Derek Lawrence on retainer, as he did Camden Hendrix's law firm and a local psychologist.

Then there was Dr. Yvette Meng and her students. Maleah had no concrete proof, but she suspected that Griff was on the verge of utilizing Dr. Meng's special talents and those of her small conclave housed at Griffin's Rest to help with certain seemingly unsolvable cases. Personally, Maleah wasn't into all that woo-woo stuff, but she tried to keep an open mind. She knew one thing for sure-Dr. Meng was extraordinarily perceptive. Whether Griff's old friend and her pupils were actually psychic, she couldn't say. Maybe they were.

Griff worked from Griffin's Rest most of the time and had rarely visited the Knoxville headquarters in the past year. The real heart of the agency was located in a huge, state-of-the-art home office inside Griff and Nic's home. The s.p.a.ce was divided into three areas, one of which was a meeting room equipped with two plasma televisions, DVD and CD players, and a wall lined with books and magazines. Plush leather chairs circled a large rectangular table.

Maleah and Nic had taken a few minutes, just the two of them, to catch up after breakfast. By the time they arrived at the office, Griff was seated at the head of the table and the other agents were milling around the room. Derek sat at the end of the table near Griff and the two were deep in conversation.

"Don't worry, they aren't discussing the Midnight Killer case," Nic told Maleah. "Griff wanted to speak to Derek about Kristi's murder. We're waiting for a report concerning the details that the Knoxville PD are keeping top secret."

Maleah nodded. She never questioned Griff's methods of obtaining whatever information he wanted. Only on rare occasions did the agency come up against that rare human being-the man or woman who couldn't be bought for the right price. She wondered, if push came to shove, exactly what her price would be, because she knew only too well that the price the price wasn't always monetary. wasn't always monetary.

Nic spoke to each agent present and then took her seat at the opposite end of the table from her husband. Maleah surveyed the group. Nic and Griff and Derek were already seated. Holt Keinan, who had been a.s.signed to investigate Hilary Finch Chambless's murder in Memphis, sat down beside Derek. Ben Corbett and Mich.e.l.le Allen spoke to Maleah as they headed for the table, coffee cups in hand.

After everyone was in place, casually seated around the table and still quietly chatting, Sanders entered and took a seat in the corner of the room, away from the others. Griff's right-hand man seldom partic.i.p.ated in the meetings, but he often observed. Maleah didn't know why and had never asked.

Shaughnessy Hood, this month's head of security at Griffin's Rest, closed the door and then stood guard. His actions weren't actually necessary, but she understood the need for protocol. This was a private meeting where the agents would be discussing matters of grave importance and sharing confidential information.

Griffin Powell ended his conversation with Derek and turned in his chair to face the others. His gaze traveled around the table, silently acknowledging each Powell agent present. The room quieted. Everyone focused on Griff.

"Kristi Arians's autopsy will be performed tomorrow," Griff told them. "The funeral is tentatively scheduled for Thursday at noon. A by-invitation-only memorial service will follow that evening, here at Griffin's Rest."

"May I ask if Powell's will be doing an independent investigation?" Mich.e.l.le Allen asked.

"Yes, we will," Griff replied. "Mitch Trahern will be heading that investigation." Griff waited for more questions and when no one else spoke, he continued. "Now, to the business at hand. The Midnight Killer case." He reached to his right and removed the top folder from a stack of thin binders piled in a neat bundle on the table. "Pa.s.s these around and once everyone has a copy, take a few minutes to look over the information."

"These folders contain reports from the six agents working in the field on this case," Nic explained. "Sh.e.l.ley Gilbert is not here because she is on bodyguard duty for a potential victim, Lorie Hammonds. But she filed her report this morning. Derek has put together a rough preliminary profile of the killer, and Maleah has condensed the interviews they've had with possible suspects."

Derek explained, "Once I've gone over your reports, I will rea.s.sess the profile if there is any information that I believe changes my opinion."

"The report I submitted includes information about our interviews with four men we thought could possibly be involved in the murders," Maleah told them. "We have three other names on our list and hope to finish up with those interviews this week."

The agents pa.s.sed around the binders of info and each took the allotted time to skim the reports.

"As you see, there is another report included, one put together by Powell's research team using certain information y'all submitted along with computer and legwork research," Griff said.

Maleah hurried through the report from Holt Keinan on the Hilary Chambless murder and Mich.e.l.le and Ben's report on Dean Wilson's murder, but she took time to thoroughly go over Derek's profile. Even though they were partnered on this case, he hadn't discussed his profile with her and despite being curious, she had not asked him about it.

Midnight Killer's MO: Victims have all been former actors who starred in p.o.r.no movies. Each victim had a part in the movie Midnight Masquerade Midnight Masquerade. Three of the four victims received two or more threatening letters that warned them they were going to die. (It is a.s.sumed that the first victim also received similar letters, but there is no proof that he did.) Each murder occurred sometime around midnight. Each victim was shot several times, with one final fatal shot to the head.Midnight Killer Signature: This killer's "calling card"-he places a fancy mask (possibly the one from the p.o.r.no movie in which the victim starred) on the victim postmortem.The Midnight Killer shows traits of the organized serial killer, which means he is probably highly intelligent, socially and s.e.xually competent, can be charming, is geographically and/or occupationally mobile, follows media coverage of his crimes, and was probably harshly disciplined or abused as a child.Of the four distinct serial killer types, the Midnight Killer would fall under the Missionary-Oriented Motive type. He displays no psychosis to the outside world, but on the inside, he has an overwhelming need to rid the world of what he considers immoral or unworthy people.To our knowledge, our unidentified suspect began killing in January and to date has killed four people. His need to kill has probably been fueled by certain fantasies that he's had and that have been escalating up for quite a while.

Maleah paused to consider the implications of what she had just read. She agreed completely with Derek's professional a.s.sessment of their UNSUB.

Hurriedly, she raced through the remainder of his report, which listed each of the four men they had recently interviewed.

Travis Dillard: Remains on our suspects list. Fits the organized killer profile to some degree. Has the intelligence to plot the murders and the financial ability to hire a professional killer.Duane Hines: Removed from suspects list. Does not fit the profile. Does not have the intelligence to plot and carry out the crimes. Is virtually penniless.Kyle Richey: Placed at the bottom of the suspects list. Partially fits the organized killer profile, has a criminal record, but is the type to commit a crime of pa.s.sion and not premediated murder.Casey Lloyd: Remains on our suspects list. A reformed drug addict and alcoholic who displays pent-up anger. Most likely on the list of suspects to be a Missionary-Oriented Motive type.

"Keep these files, go over them, use them in any way that will help you in your investigation," Griff said, bringing everyone's attention away from the reading material and directly onto him. "We've learned a great deal already, but we're not even close to solving this case. Although there are four victims and more potential victims, this is one case, not several."

"I read where it's been determined that our UNSUB is probably taking a souvenir each time," Holt Keinan said.

"Yes," Nic replied. "The clothing the victim was wearing when he or she was killed disappeared. We believe the killer took the clothing, probably chose one article and discarded the rest. But no b.l.o.o.d.y clothing has been found either at the scene or in nearby garbage bins or Dumpsters."

"And he didn't use the same murder weapon for each killing," Ben Corbett commented.

"That's right," Griff said. "Ballistics reports confirm that each victim was shot with a different gun."

"And he's doing this for what reason?" Mich.e.l.le Allen asked. "He can't think that by using different guns, the authorities won't link the four murders, not when he's gone out of his way to kill in the same manner, uses the mask as a calling card, and warns the victims in advance with identical letters."

"At this point, there's no way to know for sure why he's done this," Griff told the agents. "It could be as simple as him preferring not to pack a gun that goes through the airport's baggage security scanner. For a man with money, picking up a different gun in each city wouldn't be a major problem."

"We believe that our killer is using fake ID to purchase his plane ticket and to register at the hotels where he's staying. And more than likely, he's disguising himself in some way so that he can't be easily identified by anyone on the flights or in the hotels and restaurants. This makes it difficult to figure out if one of our suspects traveled on or near the dates of the murders. And for the same reason, we can't rule out any particular suspect."

"A check of airline pa.s.sengers and hotel registrations the day of and the day before each murder might give us a single name," Holt suggested.

"We've thought of that, but so far, we've come up with nothing. No single name, which leads us to believe that he is possibly using several fake ident.i.ties."

"Our guy is not only smart, but he's financially secure," Derek said. "And he's on a mission to rid the world of evil in the form of ten former p.o.r.no stars."

Chapter 19.