Silent Killer Part 46

Jack stood several feet behind Seth and Missy, keeping his presence unknown for the time being. He had already called for backup and instructed headquarters that emergency vehicles should silence their sirens when approaching the church. An ambulance had been dispatched, along with units from the Dunmore Fire Department.

As he moved in closer, he drew his Smith & Wesson. When he reached the doorway, he slipped to one side, his presence s.h.i.+elded by the wall. Seth glanced over his shoulder, and his gaze met Jack's. Jack pressed his left index finger over his lips, issuing Seth a warning not to give him away. He knew how scared his son must be. h.e.l.l, he was scared out of his mind. He had to stop this pitiful young girl from harming anyone else. The thought of how close Cathy was to being set on fire frightened him more than anything ever had. He had faced down his stepfather's wrath and taken his punishment. Often he had faced death on a daily basis as an Army Ranger. But if anything happened to Cathy, if she were badly hurt, if she died...

"Charity, please don't do this," Seth said, his voice quivering slightly.

That's it, Son, keep talking to her. Keep her distracted.

Jack hated the thought of shooting a young girl, but he had to stop thinking of her as anything other than a threat to the woman he loved. He had been listening to the girl's ravings and had come to the conclusion that Charity Harper was mentally unbalanced. Anyone capable of such brutal murders had to be either crazy or pure evil or a combination of both.

"Don't try to stop me," Charity told Seth. "I don't want to hurt you. G.o.d doesn't want any innocent souls harmed, but I must do His bidding."

"G.o.d doesn't want you to kill my mother," Seth said. "She's a good person, a good mother."

"She's a liar and a fornicator!"

Using both hands Charity flicked open the lighter. The flame burned high and bright, a red-orange golden glow. She quickly activated the flame lock mechanism.

Jack stared at the tiny oval flame s.h.i.+mmering at the tip of the lighter Charity held tightly as she waved it back and forth, first over John Earl and then over Cathy.

"Please, Charity, please..." Seth took a tentative step toward her.

"Don't come any closer!" she screamed as she lowered the lighter toward her father.

Jack had hoped that it wouldn't come to this, but he had no choice.

He lifted his weapon and zeroed in on Charity. When Missy saw him, she gasped silently, then eased up beside Seth, tugged on his arm and pulled him aside. When Jack shot Charity, she might drop the lighter, and there was a d.a.m.n good chance it would set Reverend Harper on fire. There was only one chance to prevent that from happening.

Jack aimed and fired. "Seth, grab the lighter!"

The bullet hit its target-the center of Charity's chest. She fell backward from the impact. Her eyes widened in shock as her body rebelled against the a.s.sault. She dropped to her knees, still clutching the lighter. She stared sightlessly at her father, then tossed the lighter toward Cathy as she crumpled to the floor, face down.

The lighter sailed straight toward Cathy.

Seth dove forward, his arm outstretched, his palm open.

Jack held his breath.

Realizing the lighter was a hairsbreadth from igniting the gasoline soaking her hair, skin and clothes, Cathy rolled backward against the desk.

Seth caught the lighter in his palm, then quickly snapped it shut and closed his fist around it.

Jack rushed into the room and clamped his hand down on Seth's shoulder. When his son turned to him, he hugged the boy. Seth hugged him, and then they both knelt beside Cathy. Jack jerked the gag out of her mouth and untied her wrists as Seth untied her ankles.

"Charity?" Cathy asked.

"Dead," Jack replied. He knew he had hit her in the heart. There was no way she could have survived.

"Help John Earl," Cathy said to Seth as Jack lifted her to her feet.

Jack slid his arm around Cathy's waist and held her against him as Seth and Missy untied John Earl. As soon as he was free, he rushed to his daughter, knelt down and pulled her lifeless body into his arms.

When the emergency crews arrived a few minutes later, they found John Earl still holding Charity, his face ashen with grief and his eyes filled with tears. Missy was clutching Seth's hand tightly, and Jack held a gasoline-soaked Cathy in his arms.

Chapter Thirty-five

Almost everyone in Dunmore had shown up during the visitation hours at the Baptist church on the day of Charity Harper's funeral. The funeral itself had been a private event attended only by Charity's family and a handful of close friends. Cathy had stayed at Seth's side during the service and afterward had taken him home, where Jack had been waiting for them. No one, not even John Earl and Ruth Ann, had blamed Jack, but Cathy knew better than anyone how he agonized over having had to kill Charity in order to save two other lives. What had transpired that afternoon in the church bas.e.m.e.nt had brought Seth and Jack together in a way only a shared tragedy could have. They had bonded as comrades, as Cathy's protectors, and the trauma they had shared had helped speed up the healing process for all three of them Two months later, the Harpers, along with their foster daughter, Missy Hovater, moved away from Dunmore. John Earl had been a.s.signed to a church in Louisiana. No one ever mentioned that Charity had accused her grandmother of having set her husband on fire all those years ago. Somehow, in the grand scheme of things, it really didn't seem all that important. Ruth Ann had told Lorie that the family's only hope of ever having any chance at a somewhat normal life was to move as far away from Dunmore as possible.

For several weeks, Seth had nursed a broken heart over Missy's departure, but by Thanksgiving he was dating Bracey Carter, the girl he'd taken to the Homecoming Dance in October. Cathy was thankful that her son's feelings for Missy had been little more than a teenage crush.

Although she had longed for Seth to live with her his junior year in high school, he had opted to live with J.B. and Mona until next summer.

"Granddad and Nana need me more than you do right now," he had told her. "Besides, you and Jack need time to work things out before you have me underfoot all the time."

The holidays-Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's-came and went. Jack moved in with Cathy permanently on New Year's Eve. On Valentine's Day, he proposed. They set their wedding date for mid-March during Seth's spring break and moved into Jack's big, newly renovated Victorian home.

Maleah hadn't meant to eavesdrop, and G.o.d knew she wished she could walk away and pretend she'd never seen Griff and Yvette Meng talking quietly on the patio. Their conversation was none of her business.

But why had they waited until Nic had driven into Knoxville for the day to meet? For the past several months, Nic's marriage had taken a turn for the better, ever since Griff had confided to her about his frequent trips to Europe.

"I can't really explain everything," Nic had told Maleah. "But it seems that someone from Griff's past-the past he shares with Sanders and Yvette-has resurfaced and is posing a threat to them and to me and Barbara Jean. To anyone close to Griff."

She had wanted to question Nic further, but hadn't. If Nic was satisfied with Griff's explanation, who was she to doubt him?

Maleah paused near the open patio doors and pressed herself against the wall to hide herself from view.

"It is not possible," Yvette said, her dark, almond-shaped eyes wide with concern. "Malcolm York is dead. We killed him. Whoever this man is, he is not York."

"I agree," Griff replied as he put his arm around Yvette's slender shoulders. "But he's been seen more than once by those who knew York, and they swear the man is his twin."

Yvette grasped the lapels of Griff's sport coat. "You have to find him, whoever he is. Use whatever means necessary. Take Meredith with you. Go back to France. I cannot relive that nightmare. Do you hear me, Griffin? I will not!"

Griff shook her gently, then wrapped her in his arms and held her. "I have to be totally honest with Nic."

Yvette jerked her head up and stared at Griff. "You cannot. She will not understand. If she knows...She will never forgive you. You will lose her."

"If I continue lying to her, I'll lose her anyway."

"Then tell her, but not yet. Wait as long as possible. Buy yourself some time." Yvette caressed Griff's cheek. "Without Nicole, you cannot be happy, and you deserve to be happy always."

Maleah heard the hum of Barbara Jean's wheelchair. She eased away from the wall and walked across the room, all the while wondering if she should tell Nic about what she'd heard.

How could she tell her best friend, who was just now getting her marriage back on track, that her husband was still keeping secrets from her?

Cathy stood in front of the cheval mirror and studied her reflection. She had chosen a simple, white silk and satin dress with a rounded neckline, a fitted waist and a billowing skirt that skimmed the floor. Today was the happiest day of her life. The early springtime weather had cooperated by giving her a warm, sunny day with the trees budding, flowers blooming and birds singing.

Lorie knocked on the door and stuck her head in. "Ready?"

"Ready." Cathy held up her bouquet of white roses.

Lorie disappeared, and the door opened wide. Seth stood there in his black tuxedo, looking every inch the handsome young man he was. She walked over to him and took his arm. They smiled at each other.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"A little," she admitted. "I've waited a lifetime for this day." She reached out and caressed Seth's cheek. "I love Jack with all my heart."

"He feels the same way about you." Seth grinned. "I know because he told me he did. And I told him he'd better take good care of you or he'd have to answer to me."

Cathy laughed. "What did he say to that?"

"He made me a promise. He said that he'd spend the rest of his life doing everything possible to make you happy."

The organ music began, signaling them that it was time for the wedding to start. Seth led her down the hall and to the doors opening into the Methodist church sanctuary. She watched as Lorie, wearing a spring green silk dress and carrying a yellow rose bouquet, walked down the aisle right behind Jack's sister, Maleah, who wore a spring pink dress and carried pink roses.

When the wedding march sounded, everyone in the church rose to their feet as Seth led her down the aisle. Jack waited at the altar, Mike Birkett at his side. Jack stepped forward and took Cathy's hand.

Seth gave Jack a pat on the back and then kissed Cathy's cheek. "I'm really glad my parents are finally getting married," he whispered so softly that only the three of them could hear. "I love you guys, you know."

"We love you," Cathy told him.

Seth took his place on the first-row pew, and during the ceremony, when Patsy Floyd asked, "Who gives this woman to be married?" Seth replied, "I do."

Dear Reader,

Now that you've finished reading SILENT KILLER, I'm sure you're wondering about some loose ends that were not tied up, some relations.h.i.+ps that were left in limbo. I hope you're asking yourself what's going on with Nic and Griff, what's going to happen between Maleah and Derek and will Lorie ever get a second chance with Mike? I asked myself these questions and knew immediately that they had to be answered. So I'm now at work on a new romantic suspense, DEAD BY MIDNIGHT (coming in February 2010), that will tie up a few of those loose ends.

Maleah Perdue will stay on in Dunmore, Alabama, her hometown, after her brother's wedding, to housesit and to keep a close eye on her nephew while Cathy and Jack are away on their honeymoon. During her mini-vacation from the Powell Agency, Maleah is inadvertently drawn into a new murder mystery when Lorie Hammonds comes to her with a secret she's kept to herself for months-a secret that threatens her life. Lorie's past as a Playboy Playboy centerfold and costar in a p.o.r.n movie puts her on a crazed killer's To-Die list. Despite Maleah's intense dislike for Derek Lawrence, the former FBI profiler who is now on retainer for the Powell Agency, she has no choice but to work with him when it becomes obvious they are dealing with a serial killer. And Sheriff Mike Birkett, Lorie's high school sweetheart and first love, is torn between his need to keep Lorie at arm's length and his desire to save her from the clutches of a madman. centerfold and costar in a p.o.r.n movie puts her on a crazed killer's To-Die list. Despite Maleah's intense dislike for Derek Lawrence, the former FBI profiler who is now on retainer for the Powell Agency, she has no choice but to work with him when it becomes obvious they are dealing with a serial killer. And Sheriff Mike Birkett, Lorie's high school sweetheart and first love, is torn between his need to keep Lorie at arm's length and his desire to save her from the clutches of a madman.

Lorie isn't the only one whose past has come back to haunt her. When Griffin Powell reveals more information about his mysterious past to his wife Nicole, one startling truth will threaten to destroy their marriage.

I always enjoy hearing from readers. You may contact me through my Web site at www.beverlybarton.com www.beverlybarton.com or by writing to me in care of Kensington Publis.h.i.+ng. While visiting my Web site, you can enter my contests, sign up for my e-mail newsletter, and check out a list of all my books and my upcoming appearances at book signings, speaking engagements and conferences. or by writing to me in care of Kensington Publis.h.i.+ng. While visiting my Web site, you can enter my contests, sign up for my e-mail newsletter, and check out a list of all my books and my upcoming appearances at book signings, speaking engagements and conferences.

Warmest regards, Beverly Barton

Prologue

There it was again, that odd sound. It must be the wind. What else could it be? Possibly a wild animal, a racc.o.o.n or possum or even a stray dog. Bears are in hibernation this time of year.

Get hold of yourself. You're imagining things. n.o.body's out there. n.o.body is going to show up here in the middle of the woods in the dead of winter just to frighten you.

Dean's bone thin hands trembled as he pulled back the gingham curtain from the dirty window and peered out into the darkness. The quarter moon winked mockingly at him through a thin veil of clouds, as if it knew something he didn't. The cold wind whispered menacingly. Was it issuing him a warning?

Releasing the curtain, he rubbed his hands together, as much to warm them as to control the quivering. He sure as h.e.l.l could use a drink about now. Or something stronger, quicker. But he had learned to settle for strong coffee. A caffeine fix was better than no fix at all. He had been clean and sober for three years and he had no intention of allowing a few stupid letters to destroy his hard won freedom from drugs and alcohol.

Forget the d.a.m.n letters. They're just somebody's idea of a sick joke.

There were things he should be doing-stoking the fire he'd built in the fireplace, checking supplies, preparing the coffeemaker for morning coffee, bringing in more firewood, putting fresh linens on the twin beds. Dean wanted everything to be in order before his brother got here. Jared, who was driving in from Knoxville where he taught biology at the University of Tennessee, would arrive sometime in the morning and if all went as planned, they'd spend the weekend here. This was the first time they'd been together at their family's cabin in the Smoky Mountains since they were teenagers.

G.o.d, that had been a lifetime ago. Jared was forty-eight now, widowed, the father to two adult sons. His brother was successful in a way he would never be. Jared lived a normal life, always had and always would. Dean was a failure. Always had been and probably always would be. He'd been married and divorced four times. But he'd done one thing right-to his knowledge he had never fathered a child.

As he lifted the poker from where it was propped against the rock wall surrounding the fireplace, he glanced at the old mantel clock that had belonged to his grandparents. Eleven forty-seven. He should be sleepy, but he wasn't. He had flown in from LA earlier today and had rented a car at the airport.

Jared had sent him the airline ticket. His brother didn't trust him enough to send him the money. In the past, he would have used the money to buy drugs. He couldn't blame Jared. Dean had done nothing to earn anybody's trust. He might be clean and sober, but even he knew that it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge. If something happened, something he couldn't handle, he just might take the easy way out. He always had in the past.