"KEEP BEHIND THE YELLOW tape," the policeman said roughly. "If you're that curious about forensic procedures, watch CSI or Bones."
"I'm sorry, sir," Miguel Vicente said sympathetically. "I heard the victim was a sheriff? One of your own. I can understand how you'd be upset. I was in the military and the bond is much the same."
"You don't look old enough to have been in the military. You can't be more than nineteen or twenty." The officer's gaze traveled over Miguel's slender body and lingered on his thickly bandaged hands. "Iraq?"
"Not all wars are in Iraq. But I've had friends die fighting beside me. I know how you must feel."
"Jim Jedroth was a damn fine officer and a great guy. We'll get the pervert who killed him. We're hunting the woods for him now." He turned and walked back toward the forensic team, who were making a chalk mark around the body. "Stay behind that tape, kid."
"Yes, sir. Whatever you say." Miguel pushed his way back through the crowd cordoned off from the crime scene. He didn't pull out his phone until he was on his way to his rental car parked down the street. He slowly dialed Montalvo's number, wincing with pain as he tried to make his fingers work. "We're too late, Colonel," he told Montalvo when he picked up the phone. "I think Kistle's on the run."
Montalvo muttered a curse. "You're sure?"
"There's a dead sheriff outside Kistle's flat and a deputy who's swearing vengeance on the pervert who killed him. He said they were hunting the woods for him now. I'd say that was a pretty good indication. I'll find out more, but I thought you'd want a report."
"Dammit, I thought we'd be able to rope Kistle in and hand him to Eve on a plate. We were so close."
"Evidently so were the local police. He must have been under suspicion."
"Why? Kistle is smart as hell. I'd bet they were alerted to watch him."
"Joe Quinn?"
"Probably. We knew he was doing his own investigation. I just didn't think he'd get there before we did."
"And you wanted to be first."
"I always want to be first."
"Particularly where Eve Duncan is concerned," Miguel said softly.
"I made her a promise."
"And she told you to forget it. Could it be you just want to be her hero? My, under the same circumstances I believe you'd accuse me of being sickeningly sentimental, Colonel."
"I keep my promises, you scamp. Now back off."
"Yes, sir." Miguel recognized by the thread of steel in Montalvo's voice it was time to change the subject. He had served under him since he was a young boy in the military compound Montalvo had run in Colombia and he would serve him again anywhere, anytime, for the rest of his life. That didn't mean he didn't know how tough Montalvo could be if he stepped beyond the allowed limitations. "Just an observation. What do you want me to do next?"
"Find out all you can about the sheriff's investigation into Kistle. I'll get a flight out tonight."
"Do you want me to go into the woods after Kistle? I may still be able to rope him in for Eve if I can keep from stumbling over the sheriff's deputies."
"Hell, no. I spent a small fortune on those operations on your hands. You're not even supposed to open a book, much less try guerrilla warfare."
"I'm bored. My hands are fine." He amended, "Well, not fine, but functional. An ingenious man like me can compensate."
"An ingenious man like you could end up with gangrene. Stay there, keep watching, and stay out of those woods."
"YOU THINK IT'S BONNIE'S killer?" Jane gazed down into the coffee in her cup. "You told me once that you had dozens of crank calls confessing to Bonnie's killing right after she disappeared. Could this be another one?"
"Yes." Eve leaned wearily back in her chair. "The investigators Montalvo hired tapped a lot of prison inmates, who gave them information about friends or acquaintances who had actually told them they had killed Bonnie. They came up with three possible suspects. Maybe they were like the creeps who called me at the time. They could have wanted some sick glory among their peers."
"But you think it's possible?"
She nodded jerkily. "He called her a burning arrow in the darkness. Bonnie was- He sounded like he knew her."
"Or a clever sadist who wanted to make sure he'd hurt you."
"Yes, he definitely wanted to do that." She lifted her cup to her lips. "He didn't like Joe setting the police on him, and I was the nearest target." She thought about it. "No, it was more than that. He sounded… exhilarated."
"What do you know about Kistle?"
"Not as much as I'd like. The report Montalvo gave me was pretty scanty. There were three possible suspects his investigators turned up. Kistle was one of them. They traced Kistle from the time he was running drugs in Atlanta at the time of Bonnie's death to last year when he was living in Detroit. There were big gaps in the report. He must have moved around a lot and been smart enough to be able to change identities and obtain false documents whenever he liked. He just disappeared from view for long periods. We don't know where in the country he was living. Though he mentioned Colorado to me on the telephone."
I impersonated a sheriff once. It was in Fort Collins, Colorado. Children are taught to trust policemen.
The memory brought back the same shock and sickness as when she'd first heard it. She wearily shook her head. "I need to know more. He used the name Kistle again when he showed up in Detroit last year. A few months later he left Detroit and there was no word until now."
"No prior arrests? No school records?"
"Nothing."
"Then Kistle can't be his real name."
Eve nodded. "We were trying to check his background, but we weren't getting very far. And we wanted to know where the bastard was now. Evidently Joe found him." Her lips tightened. "And didn't tell me."
"It was a wrong move," Jane said. "But he only wanted what was best for you. He didn't want you to go through all that pain if Kistle wasn't the right man."
"I know that. It doesn't help. Bonnie is my daughter. He should have shared the-" She broke off as the phone rang. She jumped up to answer it. "It's Deputy Dodsworth," she told Jane as she picked up the handset. "Eve Duncan. Please. Tell me you got Kistle, Deputy."
"Not yet." His voice was grim. "I called the highway patrol and they set up roadblocks, but he drove into Clayborne Forest and abandoned his car. We're searching for him now. We're combing the entire area. We'll find him."
"And Sheriff Jedroth?"
"Dead. I jumped in the patrol car myself and drove over to Kistle's place where Jim was doing surveillance. The bastard stabbed him in the back. I don't know how the hell he did it. Jim was sharp, real sharp. He would have been-" The deputy cleared his throat. "He was a good man."
Eve said gently, "I'm sure he was. I'm sorry, Deputy."
"Yeah, me too. We grew up together." He drew a deep breath before he said, "I have questions to ask you. This telephone number is the same one the sheriff was using for Detective Joe Quinn. I want to speak to him."
"You'll be doing that in person in a few hours. He's on his way there. You can meet him at the airport. There can't be that many flights into Bloomburg."
"And you are Eve Duncan?"
"Yes, I told you that before. I live with Joe Quinn."
"And why should Kistle have-"
"Look, Joe must have told you or your sheriff enough about why we're after Kistle to satisfy you. I'm sorry, but I don't want to talk about it right now. If you need to know anything else, ask Joe. Good-bye, Deputy." She hung up and turned back to Jane. "He got away. They still think they may be able to get him. He's running around in the woods somewhere." She sank back into her chair. "And Sheriff Jedroth was murdered, stabbed in the back while he was doing surveillance on Kistle."
"You're not surprised, are you? It wasn't likely that he'd have picked up the sheriff's cell phone in the lost and found."
"No, I'm not surprised." Eve lifted her cup to her lips. "Kistle was incredibly ugly. If you could have heard-" She broke off. She couldn't talk about it. Not now. She set her cup down and pushed back her chair. "I'm going outside for a walk."
"I'll go with you."
"No, I'll take my cell in case Joe calls me, but I need you to answer the house phone and call me if you hear anything about Kistle."
"And you want to be alone."
She nodded jerkily. "No offense. I'm grateful you were here. I just need-"
"For God's sake, you don't have to explain yourself to me. After all these years I'd think you'd know that. Get out of here. I'll hold down the fort." She nudged Toby with her foot. "Go with her, you lazy lug. Being with Toby is like being alone and yet he's good company."
"If you can get him moving," Eve said as she headed for the door. "I won't be long, Jane."
"I know."
Toby got to his feet, yawned, and trotted after Eve.
Eve took a deep breath of the sharp, clear air as she went out on the porch. That was better. She had needed something to brace her. She had needed to be alone. She didn't want to worry Jane any more than she had already. She was no longer shaking, but the muscles of her stomach were locked and tense and she felt a terrible sense of foreboding. It was stupid. If Kistle had killed Bonnie, there was nothing worse that he could do to her. Taunts were painful, but they paled in the reality of her little girl's death.
She went down the steps and started down the lake path.
A beautiful child.
Like a burning arrow.
Bonnie.
She stopped to look out over the glittering surface of the lake. She had spent so many years here since she had come to live with Joe. So peaceful and lovely. It had never failed to bring her a sense of serenity and inner strength. How Bonnie would have loved to be able to play and run beside this lake. She had missed so many things.
"NOT SO MANY, Mama."
Eve stopped on the path as she saw Bonnie sitting cross-legged on the ground beneath the oak tree to the right of the path. She was wearing her Bugs Bunny T-shirt and the moonlight was tangled in her curly red hair.
"Of course you did," Eve said. "What do you know? You were only seven when you were taken from me."
"And can you be sure that what I've got now isn't better than those years you're so sorry I missed?"
"Well, if you have it so good now, why are you flitting around haunting me? You must like it here."
Bonnie's smile illuminated her face. "No, I just like being with you, Mama."
Eve felt an aching melting deep within her. "Oh, and I like being with you, baby."
Bonnie suddenly chuckled. "You said I was haunting you. Ghosts haunt. Are you finally admitting that I'm a grade-A, genuine ghost?"
"Not necessarily. I'm sure hallucinations can haunt. Figments of the imagination are-" She shook her head. "I don't want to argue about it now. You're here and that's all I care about."
"You let him hurt you. You shouldn't have done that. Mama. He… likes it."
"Is he the one, baby?"
"I don't know. I don't let myself think of that night. I've told you that before, Mama."
"He wants me to believe he did."
"Truth or lie. He knows it hurts you. He's going to keep on trying to hurt you. Stay away from him." She frowned. "And stay away from the woman too. She can hurt you more than anyone."
"What woman?"
"I don't… know. The box. The woman with the box." She shook her head. "Just stay here where you're safe."
"I can't do that. I have to find Kistle and make him tell me where you are. I have to bring you home."
"I'm home where I am now. You're the one who is lost. That's why I come. I can't let you stay lost. It hurts me when you hurt."
"Is that why you came tonight?"
"Maybe. But it's been a while since I was with you. I was missing you."
"And I always miss you, Bonnie."
"Yes, but you have Joe and Jane. You love them too." She looked back at the lights of the cottage. "Jane is waiting for you to come back. She's worried about you. She wanted to come with you, but she decided to give you your space." She paused. "She knows about me, doesn't she, Mama?"
"Yes. It was accidental. I didn't even know she knew."
"But you've still not told Joe?"
"I will someday. He's a realist. It would be… difficult."
Bonnie smiled. "You're being defensive."
"And you're being pushy. I'll tell him when the time is right."
"Well, this isn't the right time. He'll be getting off that plane in Bloomburg soon and he's not even going to be able to take a breath before he's pulled down into the quicksand." She lifted her head. "Jane's answering the phone. You'd better go back to the cottage."
Eve's gaze followed hers to the cottage. "Quicksand. What do you mean, quick-"
BONNIE WAS GONE.
Eve didn't need to look back at the oak tree to know that that small, beloved figure would no longer be there. She felt the familiar rush of sadness that seemed to fill the world. Yet with the sadness she could feel a sort of serenity and healing that was always present after Bonnie came to her. From the time a year after Bonnie's death when Eve had first begun to dream, or fantasize, or whatever term she could find to use for seeing Bonnie, it had been the same. No matter what she called the experience, it had saved Eve's sanity and perhaps her life. She had been spiraling downward into deep depression and had not been able to fight her way out. Then Bonnie had been there and life had begun to be bearable.
"Good-bye, baby," she whispered. "Come back soon."
Even if it meant dire warnings about a madman and a lethal woman with a box. She didn't care if Bonnie's visits were the outpouring of the mental ramblings of her own mind. She would cling with all her strength to these moments, since she could no longer cling to Bonnie.
She turned and started back up the path. "Come on, Toby." She whistled for the retriever. "Let's go back and see if Jane's heard anything."
JANE HANDED HER A POST-IT note when she walked into the cottage. "Luis Montalvo."
Eve stiffened. "What?"
"I said that he could call you on your cell phone, but he said after consideration it was better that he leave you a message. He wants to talk to you." She paused. "But only if you want to talk to him. He said to tell you he's going to be boarding a plane for Bloomburg in the next thirty minutes."
"Bloomburg," Eve repeated. "Dammit, of course I want to talk to him. He leaves a message like that and he wouldn't expect me to do anything else. Crafty bastard."
"He sounded very… sincere."
"Oh, Montalvo is very sincere." She started to dial the number. "When it suits him. You just have to be careful what he's sincere about. He never gives up. It can be anything from attacking a drug king's stronghold to stealing a skull from a grave." His phone was ringing. Answer me. Don't you dare leave me hanging. He finally picked up. "What the hell do you know about Bloomburg, Montalvo?"
"Hello to you too, Eve," Montalvo said quietly. "I'm glad you called."
"You knew I would."
"Only if you were aware of what was going on in Bloomburg. There was a possibility that Quinn might not have told you that he'd located Kistle. He's very protective of you." He paused. "But he did tell you?"
She ignored the question. "The deputy said that they would be catching Kistle soon. Why are you going?"
"Why is Quinn going? He is on his way, isn't he?"
"Yes. But how do you know he isn't there already?"
"Miguel would have told me."
"Miguel's in Bloomburg? Is he all right? How are his hands?"
"Not good. He's going to have to have at least one more operation. But I couldn't keep him from going when we found out Kistle had surfaced. He likes you, Eve."
And she liked Miguel. The young man was a law unto himself and she'd had problems with his complete devotion to Montalvo, but no one could help liking him. "You should have told him to stay in that hospital."
"Tell him yourself… when you get to Bloomburg." He paused. "You are going, aren't you?"
"Yes. But you didn't answer me. Why are you going when the sheriff's department is sure he's going to be caught anytime now?"
"My life hasn't given me much faith in anyone but myself. And I've been unearthing some additional information lately about Kistle that's made me uneasy."
Her hand tightened on the phone. "What information?"
"I have to board my plane. We'll get together in Bloomburg."
"I don't want to get together with you. I want to know now."
"But Quinn probably uncovered the same facts and shared them with you." He added, "Just as he told you about Bloomburg."
"Damn you."
"I'll see you soon. I did want to tell you I'm calling Venable with the CIA and asking him to get the FBI on site in Bloomburg. Kistle has been crossing state lines for years and even a suspicion that he's a child murderer should give them an excuse to intervene."
"It won't be easy. There's no evidence yet."
"I can bargain with Venable. I'm a storehouse of information about the underbelly of crime in Colombia. And he owes you, Eve. That should be enough for him to be very persuasive with the FBI."
"Why are you so determined to get the FBI involved?"
"I want all the help I can get. The best, most experienced help."
"You really don't believe the sheriff's men are going to get Kistle, do you?"
"I hope they do. I have to go now. I'll see you in Bloomburg." He paused and then said softly, "I would have told you, Eve. It's your right. I would have taken you with me. I'd take you with me now if you'd come."
"Good-bye, Montalvo." She hung up.
It had been months since she'd seen Montalvo and yet it seemed like only yesterday. Their time together in Colombia had been fraught with danger that had bred a closeness that had dominated her life for that short period. The intimacy that had grown between them while she was working on his wife's skull had been too strong, too sensual, and she'd shut him out of her life.
"My God." Jane's gaze was on her face. "No wonder Joe doesn't like Montalvo."
Eve was jerked back to the present. She should have been more guarded. She hadn't wanted Jane to be aware of the fallout from that reconstruction she had done for Montalvo. "That's putting it mildly."
"Did you have an affair with him?"
Eve felt a ripple of shock. She wanted to back away, change the subject, but she wasn't going to lie to Jane. "No, it wasn't like that."
"It might have been better if it had been. He disturbs the hell out of you."
She couldn't deny that either. "I love Joe. Joe is smart and sexy and we… mesh. We complete each other. I know how lucky I am. He's everything I want." She moistened her lips. "Montalvo is just…" How could she explain it to Jane when she had trouble understanding it herself? "He knows me. Maybe it's because he went through the same pain with his wife that I did with Bonnie. Maybe it's just that there are some people who are instinctively in tune. He said we were mirror images of each other."
"And do you believe it?"
"Sometimes. We shared pain and obsession. No one can actually understand how that feels unless they've been there."
"Joe said Montalvo plays you like a song."
"He tries. And he's good at it." She stared Jane in the eye. "That's why I told him that I didn't want his help finding Bonnie's killer. We made a deal when I did his wife's reconstruction, but now that he's given us a lead, Joe and I can find Kistle by ourselves. I value the life I have with Joe and I won't have it turned upside down."
"You sound determined."
"I couldn't be more determined. As long as Joe wants me, I'll never leave him."
"He'll always want you."
"I hope so. He's put up with a lot from me over the years. Sometimes I think he's getting a little tired."
"People don't get tired of you, Eve. Joe wouldn't. I wouldn't. Now stop talking nonsense." Jane reached out and touched Eve's cheek. "But if I can help you work it out, let me know."
"There's nothing to work out. That's not what this is about. It's about Kistle… and Bonnie." She turned toward her bedroom. "I'm going to pack. Will you call and make me a reservation to Bloomburg?"
"Two reservations," Jane corrected. "I'm going with you."
"You said you had to start the work for your next show."
"I can paint anywhere. Do you really believe I'd let you go after that son of a bitch without having me in your corner?"
She smiled. "I guess not. Whatever was I thinking? By all means, come along. It seems as if my entire world is flocking to Bloomburg."
"Right, I'll pack a bag. We can drop Toby off at my friend Patty's, so she can take care of him while we're gone."
"Let's hope that won't be long." She closed the bedroom door. It would be good to have Jane with her. They were so much alike in spirit and background that they might well have been mother and daughter. Jane had appeared years after she had lost Bonnie, and her presence had warmed and enriched her. Jane always insisted that she wasn't hurt that Bonnie dominated Eve's life. She said that friendship was enough. Maybe it was, when the friendship was this close. Daughter or friend, Eve had been lucky to have Jane come into her life.
And to have Joe come into her life and choose to stay.
She reached for her phone and dialed Joe again.
Still no answer. The phone was still turned off. Surely the plane must have landed by now.
He's not even going to be able to take a breath before he's pulled down into the quicksand.
She felt a chill go through her as she remembered Bonnie's words.
She moved over to the closet and pulled out her duffel. Pack and then call Joe again. Dammit, answer me this time, Joe.
Quicksand…
QUICKSAND.
Kistle could feel his muscles strain as he pulled himself hand over hand through the trees twenty feet above the bog. Most quicksand wasn't as dangerous as most people thought, but it could slow you down.
And it made an excellent trap.
He'd left a few scraps of his shirt material on the branches of the path leading here as bait. Then he'd covered the first few yards of the bog with branches. Everything was working out splendidly. The sheriff's men had split up and were scouring the entire forest and he hadn't had to isolate them individually. Two of the pricks were heading this way now, trotting like cattle to the slaughter.
"Come on," he whispered as he settled in the crook of a tree and lifted his rifle, checking the silencer and the scope. "Just a little farther. Come and get me."
A minute later a man burst from the shrubbery at a run. The next instant he was followed by a second man. They were three yards from the camouflaged bog.
A few more steps.
He took aim three feet ahead of them.
Into the quicksand!
He didn't wait to watch them flounder helplessly as they sank.
Two shots.
One bullet in the head of the first officer. The other in the throat of the second man…
He was already moving toward them as they fell. He grabbed the two men by the shirts and dragged them out of the bog, dripping with mud and sand. They had been nothing, no challenge at all. Just as he'd thought. Cattle to the slaughterhouse.
He could feel the excitement tingling through him as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the messages he'd scrawled on scraps of paper he'd ripped from his notebook.
It was starting.
"DETECTIVE QUINN?"
Joe looked around to see a uniformed officer coming toward him across the terminal. "Yes."
"Deputy Charlie Dodsworth." He shook his head wearily. "No, that's not right. They've made me acting sheriff until the next election. I talked to an Eve Duncan at your phone number and she told me-"
"Eve? You called Eve? I told Sheriff Jedroth to call me on my cell phone. Why the hell-"
"I didn't call her. She called me," the deputy interrupted. "The sheriff is dead and Kistle had his phone and contacted her." He turned toward the exit. "I'll give you a ride into town. I have some questions to ask you."
"Jedroth's dead? How did-"
"Not now." Dodsworth waved his hand to stop the flow of words. "I've got to have my questions answered first. You'll have your turn. I've had one hell of a night. I lost my friend. And we lost that damned child killer in the woods. Now I've got to find a way to catch the bastard. What you know, I have to know." He went ahead of Joe through the door and out into the parking lot.
Joe hesitated and then followed Dodsworth toward the patrol car. It was clear all hell had broken loose since he had talked to Jedroth earlier tonight. Kistle had called Eve. My God, it was the last thing Joe had wanted to happen. He should call her and ask what that-
"Detective?" Dodsworth had opened the passenger door. "I want to get this over with quick. I have to go and see Maggie Jedroth and try to explain why her husband died tonight."
How many times had Joe had to break that news? Whether in a big-city precinct or a sheriff's office in a little town, the life of a cop still sucked sometimes. "Fifteen minutes. Ask your questions. Then I have to ask a few of my own and make a phone call."
"I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING about Kistle's background," Joe said impatiently. "I told you, I traced him by his cell phone he bought in Detroit. If I knew any of his friends or family, I'd be on my way to see them, since you lost the bastard."
"We'll get him back. Why did Kistle call Eve Duncan?"
"My number was the last number on the sheriff's phone."
"But he talked to her. She said he was taunting her, telling her he could never be caught."
"How could I know anything about that? When I call her, I'll ask what he said." And he needed to make that call right now. Find a way to skip over the unessential questions and give the sheriff a quick summary. "Look, the reason that we're after Kistle isn't only that he may be a child killer. He could have killed Eve Duncan's child, Bonnie. That makes it very personal. If he did call to taunt Eve, it may mean that he's the one we're searching for."
"It wasn't hard to figure out that it was personal after we read the report on you. You may be in luck," Dodsworth said. "Because we're not going to let him slip away from us." He parked in front of the sheriff's office. "Now come inside and sign a statement and we'll-"
"No way. I'll do it later. I told you that-"
The deputy's radio blared out. "Charlie. Where are you, Charlie?"
"Dodsworth," he answered. "Have you got him, Pete?"
"No. God, Charlie. It's bad here. You gotta come and-"
"What the hell is going on?"
"Bill Parks and Lenny Brewster. They're dead, Charlie. Shot."
"Kistle?"
"I guess so. You gotta come and see them."
"I'm on my way." Dodsworth was backing out of the parking space. "I should be there in ten minutes."
"Where are we going?" Joe asked.
"Clayborne Forest." Dodsworth pressed the accelerator and put on the siren. "That was Pete Shaw, a deputy, on the radio. Parks and Brewster were in the posse tracking down Kistle."
THE PATROL CAR WAS MET at the edge of the forest by a lanky young deputy whose face was pale enough to show the freckles scattered on his thin cheeks. "They're dead, Charlie. I was talking to them ten minutes before we found them. We split up, but there were two of them and-"
"Take it easy, Pete." Dodsworth got out of the car. "You did the right thing. Where are they?"
"Still at the bog. I called the medical examiner and told him to come take a look."
"Take me there." He glanced at Joe. "Coming?"
Joe was already out of the car and shedding his jacket. "You bet I am." He threw the jacket on the hood of the car. "Let's get out there."
"Pete Shaw, Joe Quinn," Dodsworth said. "He's Atlanta PD, Pete."
But the young deputy was already yards away in the brush ahead of them.
The forest itself was pitch-black, but Joe could see beams of flashlights dotting the darkness as he moved after Dodsworth. "How big is this forest?"
"Over a thousand acres."
"And how many men do you have out here?"
"Twenty, maybe twenty-five. We had a lot of volunteers. Everyone liked Jim Jedroth."
Eager young men like this Pete Shaw who wanted to catch the monster and had no idea what they were up against, Joe thought. "The victims were shot in the bog?"
"We think so." Pete had stopped to wait for them. "But we found them on the bank. It's ugly, Charlie." He pulled aside a bush to reveal an area lit by lanterns and teeming with men, some in uniform and some in camouflage hunting garb. "I don't understand why- See for yourself."
"God," Dodsworth murmured. "What did he do to them?"
The two dead men were propped up against a tree. Their eyes were wide open and staring into nothingness.
"Bill was shot in the head. Lenny has a bullet wound in his throat," Pete said. "But after he killed them he set them up like that and pounded short wooden stakes through their hearts. It looked like he was using them to fasten those messages on their chests." He swallowed hard. "Son of a bitch."
Joe could see the scraps of notebook paper, but they were stained with blood and he was too far away to read what they said. He had to get closer. He shouldn't compromise the crime scene, but it had already been trampled by the ten or twelve searchers at the scene. He'd just be as careful as he could.
He moved toward the victims. "Do the notes both say the same thing?"
"Yeah." Pete followed them. "Same thing."
Joe squatted down a few feet from the dead men. "Give me your flashlight."
He shone the beam on one of the bloodstained notes. Some of the ink had smeared and run, but he could still decipher the letters. It appeared to be three words. The first one started with an F…
He stiffened.
For you, Eve.