Stop fighting it. Listen to what he says. He knows the truth. She is evil. They're all evil. Once you've killed every one of them, the voice will stop. He won't ever say those things again. There will be no reason for him to make you listen.

He closed his eyes and dropped his hands from his ears. The voice softened to a whisper.

Look at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Full and round and lush. Her nipples are tight and berry pink and begging to be sucked. Watch the way she spreads her legs, unashamed to reveal the most secret part of her body to those men and to every man who watches her. Listen to the way she moans and sighs as they do all manner of unspeakable things to her.

As the voice spoke to him, the movie played inside his mind as vividly as if he was watching the newly released DVD. He had seen Midnight Masquerade Midnight Masquerade so many times that the images were seared into his brain. so many times that the images were seared into his brain.

By daybreak, a dozen deputies, along with two bloodhounds and their trainer, were scouring the woods behind Lorie's house. Mike had a.s.signed two deputies to stay behind and guard Lorie and Cathy and keep the back porch cordoned off as a crime scene, while he and Jack joined the search party. He had spoken to Wade Ballard less than half an hour ago and the chief had offered Mike however many Dunmore police officers he needed.

"If we don't find Sh.e.l.ley Gilbert within an hour, I'll contact you again and you can send your people to help us widen the search."

While he'd been on the phone with the police chief, Jack had called Maleah to inform her that Sh.e.l.ley was missing and they felt certain foul play was involved.

"Maleah is going to contact Nicole Powell," Jack said. "I expect the agency will send in some people, even if we find Sh.e.l.ley alive and well."

"What are the odds of that happening?" It had been a rhetorical question. Mike knew that the odds were not in their favor. If that was Sh.e.l.ley Gilbert's blood on Lorie's back porch, then more than likely the Powell agent was dead.

"Do you think the Midnight Killer overpowered Sh.e.l.ley?" Jack asked as they entered the woods.

"h.e.l.l if I know," Mike replied. "If he did kill her, then why did he drag her off into the woods? Why didn't he just leave her on the back porch? And why didn't he kill Lorie when he had the chance, the way he did the others?"

They heard the bloodhounds' mournful wails off in the distance.

"They've picked up the scent," Jack said.

"I don't think the Midnight Killer is involved in Sh.e.l.ley Gilbert's disappearance. It doesn't fit his MO."

"Yeah, I agree, but who else would want her out of the way?"

Mike shook his head. "I've got no idea."

The deeper they treaded into Jernigan's Woods, stomping across knee-high gra.s.s in the open areas and through damp sludge and over mossy tree roots, the more distinctly they heard the dogs. Their barking continued nonstop as Mike and Jack caught up with the deputies who were following the hounds. As they approached the circle of uniformed officers surrounding the dogs that had stopped near the riverbank, Mike and Jack slowed their pace.

"They must have found something," Mike said to Jack, and then called out to Buddy Pounders, who had accompanied the hounds' trainer. "What is it? Have they found something?"

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid they have," Buddy said.

Mike and Jack exchanged this-can't-be-good glances and moved forward to join the others. Buddy and another deputy stepped aside to allow Mike and Jack an un.o.bstructed view. Mike halted, closed his eyes for half a second, and mumbled an obscenity. Jack stared at the body, then leaned down and inspected it more closely.

Mike dropped to his haunches and surveyed the woman's butchered remains. Salty bile rose up his esophagus and lodged in his throat. Although Jack didn't seem fazed by the gruesome sight, Mike suspected that this type of b.l.o.o.d.y mutilation disturbed even a seasoned soldier such as Jack. It sure as h.e.l.l disturbed Mike.

"Call Andy." Mike barked out orders, demanding the site be secured and sending all but a handful of deputies to regulate the flow of foot traffic into and out of the woods. It was only a matter of time before word of the grisly murder spread throughout the county. Reporters would eventually arrive, as would curious neighbors. Buddy Pounders and Ronnie Gipson would remain at the scene with Mike until Coroner Andy Gamble and his two-person crew arrived.

"Whoever did this didn't put a mark on her face," Mike said. "He wanted us to be able to identify her."

"Cut up the way she is, there's no way to tell for sure what actually killed her," Jack said, studying Sh.e.l.ley's body. "But my guess is that he slit her throat to finish the job."

Mike nodded. "Jack, I need you to go back to the house and talk to Lorie. Tell her that we found Sh.e.l.ley and she's dead, but leave out the details."

"Yeah, sure. And I'll contact Maleah. The Powell Agency needs to know. But G.o.d help us, they're going to descend on us like a swarm of killer bees."

"Tell Maleah to have Mr. or Mrs. Powell contact me directly. And I need for you to call Hicks Wainwright and let him know what's happened. My gut tells me that this has nothing to do with the Midnight Killer, but I'm no expert by any means." Mike took a deep breath. "As soon as you can, get back here."

"Want me to call Wade Ballard, too?"

"Yeah. Let him know that all h.e.l.l's about to break loose."

Mike rubbed the back of his neck as he stood on Abby Sherman's doorstep. It had been a long, difficult day and it wasn't over yet. He hadn't stopped for breakfast or lunch, had drunk too much coffee, and had finally gobbled down a sandwich Jack had brought him around four that afternoon. As his mama would say, he felt like death warmed over.

He had left the crime scene secure. Dozen of officers, from his department and the state boys to the FBI, had gotten in on the act. He just hoped he was doing a halfway decent job of coordinating the various investigators. Andy Gamble, the county coroner, had turned Sh.e.l.ley Gilbert's butchered body over to the state, but not before he had examined the body at the site and taken it away in a body bag.

"We'll know more after the autopsy," Andy had told him. "But I'd say that the person who attacked her came up from behind and stabbed her in the back several times and possibly hit a kidney. The blood on the porch is from those initial stab wounds."

"He left a trail from the house into the woods," Mike had said. "Apparently he dragged her to the riverbank."

Andy had nodded. "And that's where he finished her off. He stabbed her repeatedly and then slit her throat. But even after she bled to death, he wasn't finished with her. He sliced up her arms and legs postmortem. I've never seen anything like it. He carved out little pieces the way you'd carve a pumpkin to make a Halloween jack-o-lantern."

From hip to ankle on both legs and from shoulder to wrist on both arms, the killer had carved pieces of flesh from Sh.e.l.ley Gilbert's body. Thank G.o.d, she'd already been dead when her killer had etched the b.l.o.o.d.y, triangular designs.

Mike had finally left the crime scene once everything that could be done there had been done. Every precaution had been taken to protect both the back porch of Lorie's house and the area surrounding where the body had been found on the riverbank. The porch, back door, steps, and railings had been dusted for fingerprints. Soil samples had been taken from the yard, the path into the woods, and at the riverbank. The entire area had been searched for any sign of the weapon. Shoeprints found near the river had been photographed, and after being sprayed with fixatives to stabilize the loose dirt, the prints had been filled with plaster. Mike hoped that the shoeprints didn't wind up belonging to one of his deputies.

He had left the press conference he'd held in front of the courthouse and had driven straight to Abby's. He hesitated before ringing the doorbell. He needed to be honest with her. He owed her that much.

How can you be honest with Abby when you're not being honest with yourself? Admit the truth!

But that was the problem-he wasn't sure he knew what the truth was.

He rang the doorbell. Abby opened the door instantly, as if she had been standing on the other side waiting for him to make his presence known.

She offered him a fragile smile. "Please, come in."

He stepped over the threshold. She caressed his arm.

"I can only imagine how difficult this day has been for you," she told him, concern in her voice and sympathy in her eyes.

Mike closed the door behind him.

"Have you had supper?" she asked. "I can fix you something. Scramble some eggs. Make a sandwich."

"Nothing, thanks."

"How about some iced tea or coffee or-?"

"Abby." He grasped her hands in his.

She stared at him, wide-eyed with uncertainty. "It's awful about that woman, the bodyguard. But Lorie Hammonds wasn't harmed. That's something to be thankful for."

"Abby, listen to me."

She looked directly at him. "All right."

"My mother is going to be staying at my place with Hannah and M.J. for a while, and I'm temporarily turning over some of my duties as sheriff to my chief deputy."

"Why?"

"When I leave here this evening, I'm going home to see my kids, and then I'm packing a bag and moving in with Lorie until she's no longer in any danger. I'll go into the office during the day, but in the evenings and at night, I'll be with Lorie."

Abby swallowed. "I see. But why, Mike, why does it have to be you? You can a.s.sign around-the-clock deputies or the Powell Agency can send a replacement. This isn't something you have to do personally."

He gave her hands a gentle tug, brought them up to his lips, and kissed her knuckles. "That's just the thing-it is something I have to do myself. I can't leave Lorie's safety in anyone else's hands."

"Why not?" Tears pooled in Abby's eyes.

Mike felt like the biggest jerk on earth. "I'm sorry. G.o.d, I'm so sorry. I never meant to lead you on and then pull the rug out from under you this way. I can't explain it, not really. But this is just something I have to do."

"You're still in love with her, aren't you?"

There it was, the one question he couldn't answer. "I honestly don't know."

"If it was just s.e.x, I might be able to understand. But she has some kind of emotional hold over you. I can see it in your eyes when you look at her." Tears trickled down Abby's cheeks.

"It wouldn't have worked out between us," Mike said, without adding that not only did his kids not like her, but he wasn't in love with her.

"Do you honestly think it will work out with her?"

"This isn't about my expecting to build a future with Lorie. It's about keeping her alive, about my needing to personally protect her."

"And when this is all over, what then?"

"I guess I'll figure it out then."

Abby swiped the tears from her cheeks, tilted her chin staunchly, and looked right at him. "I'd like for you to leave now, please."

Mike nodded, and realizing there was nothing he could say or do to make this easier for Abby, he turned and walked away.

Lorie was thankful that Cathy and Jack were staying in her home with her, at least for tonight. She simply couldn't have forced herself to go beyond the front door. With her inside and the world outside, she felt relatively safe. Her best friend, who had stayed with her all day, gave her the comfort and rea.s.surance she so desperately needed. And her best friend's husband, a sheriff's deputy who had once been an Army Ranger, provided her with personal protection. Also, there was a deputy stationed in the driveway who checked her front and back yards every hour on the hour.

She hadn't seen Mike since early this morning, but he had sent Jack to tell her that they had found Sh.e.l.ley Gilbert's body.

"Mike and I don't think that the Midnight Killer is the one who murdered Sh.e.l.ley," Jack had explained. "This isn't his MO, not even close. Even though he did kill Shontee Thomas's bodyguard, he shot the guy and then killed Shontee. Whoever killed Sh.e.l.ley used a knife." He had paused for a moment, and Lorie had suspected he was considering just how much to tell her. "He slit her throat."

For a second or two, Lorie had thought she'd throw up, but the nausea subsided and she'd managed to say, "And he didn't kill me and we both know he could have."

The day had been endless, each minute seeming like an hour. Investigators of every form and fashion had traipsed through her house, doing G.o.d only knew what to gather evidence. Deputies. Police officers. ABI agents. FBI agents. And when they had finished up inside, they had moved to the back porch, a taped-off crime scene being guarded by one of Mike's deputies. She and Cathy had lost count of how many pots of coffee they had made and how many cups they had filled. They had both been thankful to have something to do. And when Cathy had suggested making sandwiches and having them available for the slew of investigators, Lorie had immediately agreed.

She had watched from the kitchen window when Andy Gamble's team brought Sh.e.l.ley's body, coc.o.o.ned inside a black body bag, out of the woods. Sh.e.l.ley, who only last night had been alive and well. Sh.e.l.ley, the person who had been responsible for keeping her safe. Sh.e.l.ley, whose bodyguard training and possession of a big gun had not protected her.

Mike and Cathy sat together on the sofa in Lorie's living room watching the ten o'clock newscast on Huntsville's CBS Channel 19. One of the countless reporters who had been kept at bay by the roadblocks set up and manned by Alabama state troopers had taped interviews with Lorie's neighbors. Supposedly, no one knew for sure what had happened, other than a woman's body had been found in the woods not far from Lorie's house.

"We heard it was that bodyguard who's been staying with Lorie Hammonds," Irene Shelby told the reporter.

Lorie, who had just taken a shower and put on a pair of lightweight pink sweats and a lacy white T-shirt, came into the living room in time to hear Irene's comment.

Jack picked up the remote.

"No, don't turn it off," Lorie said. "Leave it on."

"Are you sure?" Cathy asked.

"I'm sure."

Jack laid down the remote.

The nighttime anchor appeared appropriately somber when he stared into the camera and said, "Sheriff Mike Birkett held a press conference late this afternoon." The taped interview appeared on the TV screen.

Lorie noticed how haggard Mike looked. His hair was windblown and disheveled and he sported a dark, heavy five o'clock shadow. He spoke calmly and with absolute authority, giving the basic facts and nothing more. The victim was Sh.e.l.ley Gilbert, who was employed by the Powell Private Security and Investigation Agency headquartered in Knoxville, Tennessee. Ms. Gilbert was on a.s.signment in the Dunmore area, working as a private bodyguard. The case was considered a homicide and both the ABI and the FBI were involved in the investigation.

Mike walked off, refusing to answer even one of the dozens of questions bombarding him from every direction.

"I hope he's home in bed and getting some rest," Lorie said. "He looked so tired."

The doorbell rang. Everyone froze. Before Jack got to his feet, a familiar voice called to them through the closed front door.

"It's me, Mike."

Lorie didn't move, could barely breathe. What is he doing here? What is he doing here?

Jack walked across the room, unlocked the door, and opened it. "Everything's okay here. We were just watching the ten o'clock news before going to bed. You could have saved yourself a trip and just called, but I guess you needed to see for yourself that Lorie's all right."

"Yeah, something like that," Mike replied as he entered the living room, removed the navy vinyl carryall from his shoulder, and set it on the floor.

With the length of the room separating them, Lorie and Mike looked at each other. And then Mike turned to Jack. "You and Cathy can go on home. I'll stay with Lorie."

No one uttered a sound for a couple of minutes, and then Jack replied, "Sure thing, if that's what you want. I guess it makes sense for several of us to rotate shifts, but since I'm already here, you could have-"

"We're not rotating shifts," Mike told him. "I'm moving in. I'll be staying here with Lorie until she's no longer in danger. I'll go in to the office during the day, but I'll be here every night."