Lila laid aside the clippings and grasped Terri's hand. "I don't understand why Mr. Tyler brought you these. He told the staff, of course, about the killer and that you were in the same movie as the victims. But we a.s.sumed you were to be kept in the dark so you wouldn't worry. We immediately tightened security to make sure you're kept as safe as possible. I don't know why Mr. Tyler..." Lila huffed. "There was no reason for you to know, no reason for you to worry."

Terri frowned and shook her head frantically.

"If you're concerned about that crazy man getting in here, don't be. You're well protected here, Miss Terri."

A lone tear escaped her left eye and trickled down her cheek. She tried again to speak, but when all that came out was a mumble of moans and groans, she pulled her hand out of Lila's, laid her head back against the pillows, and turned to face the opposite direction.

"Oh, you poor dear." Lila picked up the newspaper clippings and placed them back in the drawer. "I don't know why your son would bring those articles and show them to you, but I'm sure he had a good reason."

Lila walked out of the room, all the while grumbling to herself. "You'd think he'd want to keep his mother from learning that such terrible things had happened to people she knew. The last thing Miss Terri needs while she's recuperating is to find out that she could well be on that crazy man's. .h.i.t list."

Chapter 26.

During the past couple of weeks, Lorie and Mike had fallen into a daily routine oddly resembling that of an old married couple. Minus the s.e.x, of course. They took turns preparing their meals and shared in the household ch.o.r.es. They read the morning newspaper together and considered it a good day if neither Lorie nor the Midnight Killer was mentioned. Although a stray reporter showed up at least once a day, for the most part, the press didn't bother them, nor did nosy neighbors. Of course, Buddy Pounders had caught a couple of teenage boys spying on Lorie's house through binoculars and they admitted they were hoping to catch a glimpse of Lorie naked.

She had overheard Buddy tell Mike, "They had copies of that flyer of Lorie from Playboy Playboy. You can imagine what they've been doing."

She didn't want to imagine, but she knew. Boys and men alike often gazed at photos of naked women while they m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.ed. Just when she thought there was a chance for Mike and her to put the past behind them, her past came back with a vengeance to put her in her place.

And just what was her place?

In h.e.l.l, of course, with all the other wicked women.

Lorie's day-to-day life would be boring if not for Mike's presence. The sizzle sparking between them kept them both on edge, each acutely aware of the other. She lay in bed at night and thought about how close he was, just down the hall, only a short walk away. So close and yet so far away. And it was driving her crazy knowing that all she had to do was go to him, touch him, kiss him, offer herself to him.

Whether she showered or soaked in the tub, fantasies of a naked Mike joining her aroused her unbearably. When she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his big hands caressing her wet, naked body. She could feel his warm breath at her ear, his moist lips sucking at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his tongue stroking her intimately.

If their hands accidentally brushed or their bodies touched even for an instant, she felt a jolt of s.e.xual electricity ignite between them. At odd moments, she sensed him staring at her. When she looked at him, their gazes would lock and each knew what the other was thinking.

Once a day, never at the same time, Mike escorted her outside for a short walk around her house. That morning, she had picked the last of the blooming tulips and daffodils from her flower garden and, once back inside, had trimmed the stems and placed the flowers in a crystal vase filled with water. The arrangement now graced the center of her kitchen table, where she and Mike were eating lunch.

Lorie wanted to return to work, but had agreed with Mike that it was best to wait for a while longer before resuming her normal schedule. Confinement at her home meant safety. It was easier to protect her in that type of controlled environment. At Treasures, she would be dealing with the public, and that public would include not only customers, but curious townsfolk, overeager reporters, and judgmental activists from the Women for Christian Morality organization. The WCM had done everything short of running her out of town on a rail when she'd come back to Dunmore nine years ago. Recently, she had received so many phone calls from reporters, both TV and newspaper, and publicity-seeking leaders of WCM that all her calls were now diverted to Powell's and monitored by the agency. It was a better solution than unplugging all of her phones during the day.

Mike alternated between working out of her home and going into his office during the day. Even though he was Lorie's bodyguard, he was still the sheriff, and with that t.i.tle came certain responsibilities he couldn't delegate. But by suppertime each evening, he was always there with her and stayed all night. In his absence, the deputy on duty checked on her at regular intervals, and she never went outside.

Her life was in a state of nerve-racking limbo.

And she and Mike had run out of idle chitchat days ago. Now conversation between them was strained to say the least. They both struggled to find something to talk about, often resorting to the weather.

"Looks like it might rain," Mike said.

"Uh-huh. I think the weather forecast on the ten o'clock news last night predicted a fifty percent chance of thunder-showers by this evening."

"We could use some rain."

"We sure could." Lorie picked up the half slice of her grilled cheese sandwich and took a big bite.

Mike scooped up a spoonful of hot tomato soup and brought it to his mouth.

Lorie took a sip of iced tea. "Your mom is bringing supper again tonight when she and the kids come over for a visit."

Mike nodded. "Uh-huh."

"You really should be at home with Hannah and M.J. instead of here babysitting me."

"There's no need to discuss that again," Mike told her.

Lorie voiced a concern that had been tormenting her. "What if I'm not his next victim? What if he's chosen someone else? Do you plan to stay with me indefinitely?"

"If that's what it takes. But I'm counting on Powell's and the FBI finding this guy before he strikes again."

"G.o.d, I hope so."

"It'll happen. I know it will."

She forced a smile and then concentrated on eating lunch.

Mike glanced at his wrist.w.a.tch. "It's nearly one. We can take our apple pie in the living room while we watch As the World Turns As the World Turns and find out what Carly and Jack are up to today." and find out what Carly and Jack are up to today."

Lorie laughed. "You're the only man I know who'll admit he has ever watched a soap opera."

"Hey, I grew up with a mother who never missed an episode of As the World Turns As the World Turns and still doesn't. She records the show if she can't watch it when it airs." and still doesn't. She records the show if she can't watch it when it airs."

"Yeah, I know. She's the one who got me hooked on the show when I was a teenager. Sometimes I catch it on my lunch break, and if not, I watch it on my DVR in the evenings." Lorie sighed.

"You miss work, don't you?"

"G.o.d, yes. I love being at Treasures. And I know my not being there is putting a burden on Cathy, and it's an added expense having to hire extra help."

"You know why you can't go into town yet, why being at Treasures is a really bad idea."

She blew out an exasperated breath. "I know, I know. Reporters and curiosity seekers would descend like a swarm of locusts if they knew I was there. Not to mention all those Bible-spouting, narrow-minded fanatics who think I'm the devil's sp.a.w.n."

Mike looked at her and she knew he wanted to reach across the table and take her hand. But he didn't. He wanted to comfort her. But he didn't.

"It's okay," she told him. "Really. I can be a good girl and follow orders if that's what it takes to keep me alive."

"It won't be forever," he told her.

"I know, but right now it seems..." She paused, brought her hands together in a prayerlike gesture, and lifted them to her lips. After releasing a pent-up breath, she gazed down at the table, avoiding direct eye contact with Mike. "I never realized how much I wanted to live until recently. It changes your perspective on everything when death is staring you in the face. If I..." She emitted a grunting chuckle. "Scratch that thought. Not if I live through this, but when I live through this, I'm not going to waste any more of my life trying to make up for my many sins."

"All the time you've wasted is partly my fault. I couldn't stop punishing you. I could have been a friend to you. Mother and Molly tried to make me see reason. I should have listened to them and-"

"No, you shouldn't have. It wouldn't have worked, our trying to be friends. There was a time when I thought I wanted us to be friends, that friendship would be enough for me. But I was lying to myself." She looked right at him. "That's why our being cooped up together like this is bound to lead to trouble. Please, Mike, for both our sakes, leave and don't come back. Let me hire another Powell agent as my bodyguard."

Mike glanced away, finished off his sandwich, and then stacked his dirty dishes and carried them to the sink.

She shot up out of her chair. "d.a.m.n it, Mike, don't you dare ignore me."

He dumped the dishes into the sink, the silverware clanging against the stainless steel, and then he gripped the edge of the sink with white-knuckled strength.

She came up behind him, determined to make him answer her. "I can't stand this. Having you here is tearing me apart. I want you to go."

He spun around so quickly that he nearly knocked her down. As she wavered unsteadily, he reached out and grabbed her, his hands clutching either side of her head. Staring into his blue-black eyes, she held her breath as he lowered his head and took her mouth in a hungry, devouring kiss.

Heath Leroy despised the devil and all the sinners who worshipped him by committing evil. His father had once been the vilest of sinners and well on his way straight to h.e.l.l, but praise be to G.o.d, Grant Leroy had found Jesus. The Son of G.o.d had spoken personally to his dad and called him to preach the Gospel. Heath counted himself blessed among men that his father had shared that special anointing with him, bringing him also into the glory of the Almighty. He had been a boy of seventeen when he had been reunited with his father, a man he'd seen very little of for most of his life. His parents had divorced when he was seven, and his only memories of his family together were of his mother and father screaming at each other.

Working side by side together, his dad and he had shared G.o.d's message with the people of Kentucky, his father's home state. They had started out small, going from town to town sharing the Good Word with anyone who would listen. Within a year, they had been able to rent a building in Louisville to house the Redeemer Church. His father's charismatic personality combined with the Lord's helping hand had quickly catapulted their small congregation into a group so large that they had been forced to rent a larger meeting place.

His father had sent him to college and two years ago, at twenty-one, he had become an accountant and now managed the Redeemer Church's finances. He was proud to say that their net worth was in the multimillions. With that kind of wealth, they were able to reach so many more people, people who needed to be saved.

Heath knew he had been saved by the grace of G.o.d and not through any action on his part. He himself was not without sin, but he fought the good fight every day of his life. A man could not give in to temptation, especially when that temptation was his own father's wife. Avoiding Renee wasn't possible. As long as he worked with his father, he couldn't escape her or the burning desire he felt whenever she came near.

He treated her with the greatest respect and he understood that her affection for him was that of a stepmother for a stepson. But how he wished she wouldn't hug him or give him sweet kisses on his cheeks or smile at him with such tenderness. Whenever he caught himself staring at her, longing no doubt obvious in his expression, he chastised himself for his evil thoughts and stayed for hours on his knees begging for G.o.d's help.

Just as his father had been able to overcome the evil inside him, the evil that coerced him into a life of depravity, Heath struggled to overcome the wickedness his father had pa.s.sed down to him, an evil born and bred in the p.o.r.nography business. If it were within his power to completely erase such evil from the world, he would. But for now, he had to settle for what he could do to save others from that most vile of all depravities.

Heath entered the Redeemer Church office complex, having come directly from a business lunch where he had interviewed Larry Williamson, a local contractor who had a spotless reputation as a G.o.d-fearing family man. The Redeemer Church had bought land down in LaRue County, five hundred acres on which they planned to build a youth camp. The church's largest contributors had pledged a quarter of a million dollars each for the construction costs. Heath was eager to see his father and discuss his recommendations for hiring Williamson Contractors.

He pa.s.sed through the outer office, pausing only long enough to speak to the two secretaries as he made his way straight to his father's inner sanctum. His father's a.s.sistant, Maggie Stevenson-a plump grandmother of six and a good Christian woman-was nowhere to be seen, which undoubtedly meant that she was still on her lunch break.

In his eagerness to talk to his father, Heath didn't bother to knock before he opened the office door. What he saw stopped him cold before he took one step over the threshold. Completely naked, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s thrust forward and her thighs spread wide apart, Renee sat on the edge of his father's desk, which was positioned so that Heath had a sidelong view from his stance in the doorway. Grant Leroy, his tailor-made slacks hanging loosely on his hips, stood between his wife's legs and was pumping into her like a jackhammer boring into concrete.

Transfixed by the sight, Heath couldn't move. As he watched the intimate act between his father and stepmother, he became aroused, his p.e.n.i.s hardening to the point of pain.

Dear G.o.d in heaven!

Run, you fool, run.

He managed to get his feet to cooperate long enough to turn around, but when he heard Renee's o.r.g.a.s.mic cries, he couldn't stop himself from glancing over his shoulder. When he did, she looked right at him as she panted and sighed and gripped his father's hips, urging him on to achieve his climax.

Swallowing hard, Heath stared at Renee with what he knew was a stricken expression on his face. She had caught him watching them, but did she know that he longed to be there, between her legs, in his father's place?

Behind his father's heaving back, she shooed him away with the backward wave of her hand. She had given him a reprieve, silently telling him to go away before his father caught him.

Heath hurried past Maggie's desk and through the outer office, careful to keep his back to the secretaries so they wouldn't see his erection. Once safely inside his own office, he closed and locked the door. He immediately dropped to his knees and prayed.

Lorie had spent the rest of the day unable to think of anything other than the kiss she and Mike had shared after lunch. Just remembering the kiss sent her pulse rate into overdrive. It had begun pa.s.sionately untamed. Hard. Hot. Deep. But it soon became a sensuously lingering expression of their need for each other.

Long after the kiss ended, they had stood together, Mike's forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling, as he held both of her hands down on either side of their bodies. Neither of them had said a word for several minutes. And then Mike had pulled back and walked out of the kitchen.

She hadn't followed him.

She had cleaned up in the kitchen and then, in the privacy of her bedroom, had called Cathy on her cell phone. After an hour-long heart-to-heart with her best friend, Lorie had ventured into the living room where she found Mike. He had glanced at her, acknowledged her presence, and then promptly ignored her. For the next few hours, they had avoided looking at each other or even talking. He had worked the crossword puzzle in today's newspaper while she had concentrated on sketching the layout for the tearoom she hoped that she and Cathy could open later this year.

If she were alive later this year.

When Mike's cell phone rang, Lorie gasped. She'd been lost in her own world of private thoughts and future plans.

Mike tossed the newspaper aside, got up, answered the phone, and paced the floor. Apparently the caller was doing all the talking because Mike didn't say a word after he identified himself.

Lorie checked her wrist.w.a.tch. 4:40 P.M P.M.

When she heard Mike say, "Thanks for calling. We'll see y'all tomorrow," Lorie shoved her sketch pad into her red leather briefcase and set the case on the floor.

"That was Derek Lawrence," Mike said as he returned the telephone to the holder on his belt. "He and Maleah are back in Knoxville. They got in sometime this morning."

"Did he have any news about-?"

"They've interviewed everyone they could find who was in any way connected to the making of Midnight Masquerade Midnight Masquerade," Mike told her. "There's not a lot more they can do. They've ruled out a few people, but at this point, the possible suspects list includes half a dozen people involved with the movie."

"With the exception of the actors, most of whom are already dead."

Mike frowned. "Derek wanted us to know that Sh.e.l.ley's memorial service is set for tomorrow afternoon at two. I told him we'd be there."

"He didn't happen to mention if they have any idea who killed her and why?"

"I'm afraid not."

"They don't believe it was the Midnight Killer, but they haven't completely ruled him out, have they?"

"You know it's unlikely that it was the Midnight Killer. But no, they haven't ruled out the possibility."

"What time will we need to leave here in the morning to be in Knoxville for the service by two?" Lorie asked.

"I'm not sure. I'll check with Jack tonight and-"

"Don't forget that your mother and the children are coming over later for supper."

"I haven't forgotten. I'll get in touch with Jack after supper. I'm sure Maleah called him to let him know the time and place, just as Derek called me."

Lorie rose from her chair and walked toward Mike, who suddenly got a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face as she approached.

"Didn't Mom say they'd be here around five?" he asked. "That doesn't leave us much time. We should probably go ahead and set the table and-"