"I just got a report on that ring you called me about," Charley said. "You're right. It was stolen. Are you sitting down?"

He wasn't.

"A seventeen-year-old girl by the name of Tara French was wearing that ring the night she disappeared from Bigfork seven years ago," Charley said. "The ring had belonged to her grandmother. It was made especially for her, so it's very distinctive-and valuable. Mackenzie, Tara French was one of eleven young women who've disappeared in that area over the past twenty years. Where the h.e.l.l did you get this ring?"

Mac dropped into a chair, all the ramifications knocking the wind out of him. "I've got a human skull that might go with it. But I need this kept under wraps until we're sure. If I get the skull to you-"

Charley let out a curse. "We can't sit on this with a serial killer out there running loose and you with important evidence."

"If I'm right, the killer is dead, Charley," Mac said. "Just give me forty-eight hours. I'll get the skull to you this morning. How long do you think it will take for an ID?"

Silence. "It will probably take me that long to get dental records on the eleven victims. d.a.m.n, I hope you're right about the killer being dead."

When Mac hung up, he thought about Jill and how she would take the news, if he was right about Trevor. Trevor had given her a ring that had belonged to a girl who'd been missing for seven years.

Mac uttered a vicious curse. To think that Jill had been engaged to a serial killer! Was it possible the other bodies were buried out there? Is that why Trevor had been "developing" Inspiration Island?

So what had he been doing out there? Reburying the bodies? Or moving them? But moving them where?

To the south end of the island, Mac thought with a start. To the swampy part where the mud was like quicksand.

The cell phone rang again, making him jump. "h.e.l.lo?"

"I heard you were looking for a guy named Shane?" a young male voice asked.

Mac's pulse took off. "Yes, I am."

"You a cop?"

"No. A relative." Sometimes that was worse.

"He was living at Curtis Lakeview Apartments with a bunch of guys. Unit number seven. Does that help?"

"Thanks. I'll leave something for you at the Beach Bar. Just tell the bartender you're a friend of mine." He hung up. Curtis Lakeview Apartments. He felt as if the clock was ticking faster as he got into his pickup and drove north.

Curtis Lakeview Apartments had no view of the lake. Had no view at all. It was seven units stuck back in the pines, hastily thrown up and now quickly coming down.

The place was dead quiet. Either everyone was still asleep at this time of the morning, or some actually had jobs. Mac guessed that more than likely most of the units were empty. The building looked as if it could be condemned at any moment.

He wasn't expecting to find Shane here. By now Shane would have heard about Trevor Forester's murder. His nephew might not have the good sense to skip town, but he would be smart enough to change his address.

At least Mac hoped so. If Pierce was right about the collection being more valuable as a set than split up, then Trevor would have been trying to find a buyer. It made sense, given what he'd heard about Trevor Forester-that Trevor needed money and would even steal for it. Trevor must have been planning to skip town for some time now.

But now he was dead, and Mac feared Shane had the coins. It was how the kid had come to have the coins that worried him, since someone else was frantically looking for them. The shadowy figure on the videotape?

Mac groaned, wondering what plan Shane had to sell the coins. Shane wouldn't have the contacts or the patience to try to sell the coins as a set. He would try to dump the coins quickly, any way he could, and he'd leave a trail the other thief could follow. Shane was going to get himself killed, sure as h.e.l.l.

The only hope Mac had of saving his nephew was to find him before he got rid of the coins.

Mac tried the door to the apartment. It was locked. He pulled out a credit card, inserted it between the door and jamb, and heard the click as the lock opened. Cautiously, he turned the k.n.o.b. The door swung inward.

It was a studio apartment with only two pieces of furniture: a lawn chair and a card table.

It appeared his nephew had left in a hurry. There were stinky fast-food containers on the table, the chair was overturned and dirty clothing lay on the floor, along with a couple of magazines and newspapers and some junk mail.

Shane was definitely not getting his cleaning deposit back.

One small pale-green square of paper on the floor caught Mac's eye. He stooped to pick it up. It was a paycheck stub with Shane's name on it and Inspiration Island Enterprises. Made sense. Shane had worked for Trevor Forester on the island.

Mac pocketed the stub and checked his watch. He had a funeral to go to. Maybe he'd get lucky. Maybe Shane would show up at Trevor's funeral. It was something the kid was dumb enough to do.

DRESSED IN A PLAIN black dress and a hat with a veil that had belonged to her mother, Jill slipped quietly into the back of the church at Trevor's funeral. She didn't want her presence to upset Heddy.

Alistair was right. Heddy had opened the service to the entire town. The church was packed. Jill didn't have to worry about being seen.

From behind the veil, she looked for the other Scarlett and Mackenzie Cooper. Jill wasn't sure how much of what he'd told her the previous night she could believe. One thing she was sure of: there was a lot more going on with him-and Trevor's murder.

Heddy had insinuated that the murder of her son was somehow related to the other Scarlett. Jill knew she wouldn't feel safe until Trevor's murderer was caught. Maybe Mac was right. Maybe these attacks on her had to do with Trevor's misdeeds. But she suspected it was more complicated than that. She had a feeling that Mackenzie Cooper knew what was going on, and that was why he'd tried to warn her off.

If the other Scarlett was the same woman Trevor had supposedly been going to marry and run away with, then the woman would be here at the funeral, if for no other reason than to spit on his grave-a.s.suming she'd found out that Trevor had cashed in her plane ticket.

Or maybe the woman had really loved Trevor and was here sobbing her eyes out. Uh-huh. Or maybe she'd just been after the Forester money to start with.

In any case, there was no way Jill was going to find her here. Too many people. And too quiet. Jill's only hope was to recognize the woman's voice.

She spotted her father and Zoe in the crowd and dozens of other people she knew. But she didn't see Mac.

Jill half listened to the service, thinking about Trevor. He had only dated her to please his father-and for the money. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost. What bothered her most was her own culpability. She'd wanted to believe Trevor. She'd been so busy going to college, getting her business going, making it successful, that she hadn't had time for romance-but her heart must have yearned for it more than she'd known, a discovery she'd made that night in the lake cottage with Mackenzie Cooper. As she stood at the back of the church, she didn't see him, but that didn't mean he wasn't here.

Maybe he'd been telling the truth. Maybe he couldn't care less who killed Trevor. Just like he couldn't care less about her? Or ever making love with her again?

The service, thankfully, was short, since the day was already hot even this early in the morning. She followed all the other cars out to the cemetery. By the time she reached the burial site, cars lined both sides of the narrow cemetery roads. She knew the cemetery well, because she came here weekly to put flowers on her mother's grave, so she parked the bakery delivery van well away from all the other cars and cut across to where the crowd was already twelve deep and others were coming in behind her.

She searched from behind her veil for the other Scarlett, a foolish endeavor since she had no idea what the woman looked like. She sensed someone moving through the crowd toward her and turned to see Arnie. He stood next to her.

"I wanted to apologize," he said quietly without looking at her. "That was really stupid what I did last night."

Yes, she thought, it was. "Let's just forget about it. Just like the night in the cottage," she whispered back.

He glanced at her as if surprised. Had he thought he'd blown it by kissing her? He had, of course, but she'd decided to keep it from him until she found out why he'd lied.

She felt a chill at the notion that the killer could be any of the people surrounding the grave-or standing next to her. Her gaze stopped on one man standing off by a tree a few yards away. Mackenzie Cooper. He'd been watching her, and he didn't look the least bit happy to see Arnie with her. That cheered her.

When her gaze met Mac's, her heart took off like a speedboat. She felt a small thrill and knew he'd felt it, too, as she watched him drag his gaze away first. He seemed to be looking for someone in the crowd.

She looked around, as well. When she couldn't help herself and glanced in his direction again, Mac was gone. But she felt some satisfaction in the fact that he'd attended the funeral. She was more certain than before that he was investigating Trevor's murder. What she didn't understand was why. Unless he felt bad that he hadn't been able to save Trevor.

The pastor finished speaking. Jill caught sight of Heddy through a break in the crowd. She was crying, hanging on to Alistair for support. It was a sight Jill would never forget, the two of them standing beside their only son's grave, both devastated.

With the service over, a murmur of voices moved like a wave through the crowd. One voice carried on the morning air. Jill jerked around as she tried to locate the woman she'd heard speaking behind her. She'd know that voice anywhere. The other Scarlett.

Jill could catch only s.n.a.t.c.hes of the woman's voice.

"Trevor...blame...awful."

Nor could she see the woman's face, only the woman's hat, as the voice moved away from the gravesite and along the row of parked cars.

Jill followed the hat, a floppy black disk of a hat with a red rose on the crown, and the strident voice.

"Heartless...cold...b.i.t.c.h."

Jill wondered who the woman was talking about. The black hat stopped beside one of the cars, then moved toward the other side of the cemetery. Jill spotted the red Saturn parked behind a stand of trees at the far side. The woman had the nerve to drive Jill's car to the funeral!

Jill tried to move through the dispersing crowd of people and cars, but saw that it was going to be impossible to reach the woman before she drove off.

Determined not to let the other Scarlett get away, Jill cut back across the cemetery, hurrying for her van, knowing she'd never be able to catch the woman on foot.

As Jill started the engine of The Best Buns in Town van, the other Scarlett looked back, saw her and rushed to the Saturn. A moment later the Saturn roared toward one of the less-used exits away from the line of cars leaving the cemetery.

Jill raced after the other Scarlett, taking several of the service roads, all the time keeping the red Saturn in sight through the trees and gravestones.

She couldn't let the woman get away. Not this time, she thought, remembering two nights ago at Trevor's condo when the person driving the car had struck her in the head and taken off.

Jill was dying to know what the woman had been doing in Trevor's condo, what she'd been looking for in the bedroom and if she'd found it.

The red Saturn sped toward the exit, traveling at a right angle to Jill's van. Jill floored the van as she raced down the narrow cemetery road that with luck would connect with the road the other Scarlett was on-before the woman got there.

Jill reached the road, hit the brakes and skidded to a stop in the middle-blocking the exit with the van just seconds before the Saturn got there. Jill braced herself, half expecting the other Scarlett to broadside her.

The woman seemed to consider that option. But at the last minute, hit the brakes, bringing the Saturn to a dust-boiling stop in the middle of the road.

Jill leaped from the van and jerked the Saturn's door open before the other Scarlett had a chance to shift into reverse. Jill grabbed the car keys from the ignition, killing the engine.

"What are you doing?"

"This is my car!" Jill yelled. "Get out."

The woman had taken off her black hat, and Jill noted that the length of their hair was their only resemblance to one another. The woman's hair was a dingy brown and straight as string. Her nose was too big for her face. So was her mouth and her voice- "Trevor gave me this car."

"He borrowed it from me," Jill snapped. "Check the registration and t.i.tle."

"He paid paid for it," the woman shot back defiantly. for it," the woman shot back defiantly.

"He did not!" Jill wanted to drag the woman bodily from the car, but she restrained herself. "He didn't even pay for your airline ticket himself." The woman's surprised reaction confirmed what Jill suspected. "You're Rachel, aren't you. Were you looking for your ticket night before last in his bedroom? I suppose by now you know that he cashed it in."

Once again, the woman's expression confirmed it. "He did it because of you! He told me that you said you'd rather see him dead than with me."

"I didn't even know you existed," Jill said. "Haven't you figured out by now that Trevor lied to us both?"

"None of that matters," Rachel said, looking around nervously as if afraid someone might be listening. But the other mourners were too far away to hear. "Please, just leave me alone. If someone sees us together-"

"Who would care if they saw us together?" Jill asked, remembering that Heddy said she'd seen Scarlett O'Hara get off a boat at the dock a little after nine-thirty-just before Rachel had opened the cottage door. Rachel must have known about Trevor's meeting with Mac.

"That scene at the cottage was just a ruse to make it look as if you thought thought I was in there with Trevor, when all the time you knew better, didn't you?" Jill said in surprise. "You knew Trevor was dead." I was in there with Trevor, when all the time you knew better, didn't you?" Jill said in surprise. "You knew Trevor was dead."

"Stop asking questions about Trevor's murder, or you'll wish you had," Rachel spat.

The woman's words startled Jill. "I couldn't care less about you or who killed Trevor. I just want my car-and you to tell the sheriff you saw me in the cottage that night. Unless there's a reason you don't want to come forward?" The same reason she was far back in the crowd at the funeral hiding under a large black hat. Unless...she not only knew that Trevor was dead that night, she knew who did it-because she herself had put those two slugs in his heart.

The woman glanced around again. "Is that all you want? You can have the car. As for the sheriff-" she dug in her purse on the seat beside her and pulled out her cell phone "-I'll tell them right now. Then I want you to leave me alone. Trevor told me all about you," she said as she dialed 911. "He said you were a cold fish in bed and dangerous. I want nothing to do with you."

A cold fish, indeed. Jill felt her blood boil. It was all she could do not to drag the woman bodily from her car.

She looked down at the key ring in her hand. It was the one she'd given Trevor with her car key and her apartment key on it. Now there was only one key. So who had the old key to her apartment? The man in the black ski mask who'd gotten in the night before last?

"You're the one who sent that man over to take back the gifts Trevor had given me, aren't you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rachel said as she waited for the line to ring.

The emergency number should have answered by now, Jill thought. She started to reach for the phone when the woman said into the phone that she needed help. Her car was being hijacked by a crazy woman.

"Here, he wants to speak with you, Ice Princess," the other Scarlett said, holding out the cell phone.

Jill took it and said, "h.e.l.lo, this is Jill Lawson and-"

In that instant Rachel gave Jill a shove away from the car and slammed the door, locking it. The engine roared to life a moment later, then the tires threw up gravel as the car lurched backward.

Jill jumped clear as Rachel tore up the road in reverse for a few dozen yards to a side road, turned and took off in a cloud of dust.

The woman apparently had a spare key, and she must have taken it from her purse when she'd gotten out the cell phone.

"She's stealing my car!" Jill yelled into the phone before realizing there was no one on the other end of the line. The other Scarlett hadn't called 911.

Jill scrambled to the van, backed it up and turned down the road, hoping to catch up with the Saturn and Rachel. But by the time she reached the cemetery exit, the woman was gone.

Braking hard, Jill slammed her fist down on the steering wheel, then picked up Rachel's cell phone and dialed 911.

"We've already got an all points bulletin out for the car and driver," Deputy Duncan told her after she explained what had happened. "Give me her cell-phone number."

She did and Duncan said, "That's Trevor's cell phone."

"He always had it with him," Jill told the deputy. "How did she get it?"

"Well, she doesn't have it anymore," he said quietly. "You do."