"A girl can't be too careful, Avery."

Chill bumps raced up her arms. Had that been a warning? A threat?

Or nothing at all but small-town gossip?

"It seems that in this case," Avery murmured, "a guy can't be too careful, either."

The woman hesitated, then laughed, the sound lacking warmth. "I've got to go," she said. "See you

around."

Avery watched her walk away, then turned and headed inside. The front desk was empty; she trotted up the stairs, to the end of the hall.

She half expected to find Gwen's door as she had last time- propped open, chaos inside.

It was closed tight. She knocked, waited a moment, then knocked again. "Gwen," she called softly. "It's

Avery."

Still no answer. From downstairs came the sound of the front door opening and closing. She glanced over her shoulder, saw she was alone, then tried the door. And found it locked. Reassured, she took the notepad and pen out of her purse, scrawled a brief note asking Gwen to call her on her cell, ASAP, telling her she had found something important. She wrote the number, bent and slid the note under the door. She turned and found Laurie standing a dozen feet behind her. Avery laughed nervously. "You surprised me, Laurie. I thought you'd left."

"This is a nice place to live, Avery," the woman said. "You don't know, you've been away."

"Pardon me?"

"Folks around here like things the way they are. I thought you should know that."

Avery stared at her old friend, heart thundering. "You're referring to The Seven, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. The Seven. The ones who keep Cypress Springs a nice place to live. By whatever means

necessary."

"Gwen Lancaster is a troublemaker. An outsider." Laurie took a step back. "We take care of our own.

You should know that. You used to be one of us, too."

CHAPTER 47 Hunter!" Avery called, rapping on his door. "It's me. Avery." When he didn't answer after a moment, she called out again, urgency pressing at her. Time was running out. She had found the clues to the past and Sallie Waguespack's murder. She had proof The Seven existed. She had figured out how her father had been killed. She knew from experience that once the pieces of a story began falling into place, anything could happen. And it usually happened fast.

She needed to uncover the killer's identity. Why he had done it.

Before it was too late. Before he killed again.

If he hadn't already, Sarah whined and pawed at the door. Avery peered through the window at the obviously empty kitchen.

Where was Hunter? It had been several hours since they'd spoken; he'd said he would get back to her. Why hadn't he?

She checked her watch, frowning. He could have gone for a run.

To the grocery or out for lunch. He could be over at the Gazette, researching how Dr. Badeaux had died.

Sure, she reassured herself. That was it. He was fine. He-

He'd sounded strange when they spoke. Sarah had been going nuts in the background. Barking.

Growling.

Are you alone?

Not completely.

Panicked, she tried the door. She found it unlocked and stumbled inside. "Hunter," she called. "Hunter!"

She moved her gaze over the kitchen. Nothing appeared out of order and she hurried to the living room.

Hunter's computer was on, a document on the screen. She swung to the right. The puppies slept in the pen Hunter had constructed for them, a heap of soft, golden fur.

Nothing out of place.

Turning, she crossed to Hunter's bedroom. And found it much as she had the rest of the apartment.

Feeling more than a little neurotic, she checked under the bed and in the closet.

Nothing. Thank God.

She laughed to herself and turned. Her gazed landed on Sarah. The dog sat at the closed bathroom door, nose pressed to the crack. She whined, pawed at the door.

The breath hissed past Avery's lips; her knees went weak.

Screwing up her courage, she inched toward the closed door. She reached the dog. Hand visibly

trembling, Avery reached for the knob, grasped it and twisted.

The door eased open. Sarah charged through. Avery stumbled in after. Something brushed against her ankles and a scream flew to her throat.

A puppy, Avery realized. One of Sarah's pups had gotten locked in the bathroom.

Avery crossed to the commode, sank onto it. She dropped her head into her hands. She was losing it.

Going around the bend at the speed of light.

As if sensing her distress, Sarah laid her head in Avery's lap. Avery stroked the dog's silky head and ears, then patted her side. "I bet I look pretty silly to you."

The dog thumped her tail against the tile floor.

"Where'd he go, girl?"

Sarah lifted her head, expression baleful. Avery pressed her forehead to the dog's. "Right. He didn't take

me either. How about we wait together?"

Sarah wagged her tail, collected her wayward pup by the scruff of its neck and carried it back to its brothers and sisters.

Avery followed, thoughts racing. Hunter had left his computer on, document up. She crossed to his desk,

sat and closed the document. She saw that he had last saved at 7:37 that morning. Right about the time she had called. Just before. That meant that he hadn't written since they'd spoken. She glanced at her watch. Five hours ago.

She frowned. Computer on. Document up. Door unlocked. Where could he have gone?

A scrap of paper peeking out from the keyboard caught her eye. She inched it out.

Gwen 's name. Her room number at The Guesthouse.

Avery gazed at the notation. At Hunter's bold print. A tingling sensation started at her fingertips and

spread. Why had he written this? Why would he have needed to know her room number?

Hunter had left before the storm hit. Because of Sarah, he'd said. How did she know he'd even gone home? Maybe he had left her and gone to Gwen's? She had told him about Gwen. Everything. How they had met. About her brother. The gutted cat. That she had interviewed Trudy Pruitt.

He had stopped on that, she recalled. He had looked strange, she remembered. Shaken.

Hunter's voice on the answering machine.

Avery brought a hand to her mouth, thoughts tumbling one over another. Hunter had returned to Cypress

Springs about ten months ago.

About the time the rash of unexpected deaths had started.

No. She shook her head. Not Hunter.

Cherry's words rang in her head. He's come home to hurt us. To punish us.

Someone her father had trusted, someone he would open the door to in the middle of the night.

"Your father and I had become friends. Every time we were together, he talked about you."

Run, Avery. Go as fast as you can.

With a sense of inevitability, Avery reopened the computer document and read: His thoughts settled on vengeance. On the act he had just carried out. Some thought revenge an ugly,

futile endeavor. He fed on it. On thoughts of the pain he could inflict. Punishment deserved- Avery leaped to her feet. The chair went sailing backward. Not Hunter! It couldn 't be true.

She took a deep breath, fighting for calm. A clear head. Her gaze settled on the desk once again, its

drawers. She tried them. And found them locked.