Lisa Jackson's Bentz And Montoya Bundle

Renew：Part 274
Author：Lisa Jackson
Update：08-15-2023
Tags：Other Books
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Chapter List

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter Three.
Chapter Four.
Chapter Five.
Chapter Six.
Chapter Seven.
Chapter 8
Chapter Eight.
Chapter 10
Chapter Ten.
Chapter Eleven.
Chapter Twelve.
Chapter Thirteen.
Chapter 15
Chapter Fourteen.
Chapter Fifteen.
Chapter SeventeenSam nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the man on her porch. Then she realized it was Ty. She hadn"t expected to see anyone, but smiled to herself. There was something right about him reclining on the front-porch swing, jean-clad legs outstretched, a bottle of beer cradled between his hands, his face cast in shadow where the weak light of the single bulb on the porch didn"t quite reach. He seemed at home there. Calm. Rocking gently to the music of the wind chimes and cicadas. And yet there was a restless quality to him, a darkness she didn"t understand, a danger that lured her as much as it frightened her."Don"t make more of it than it is," she muttered to herself, but her heartbeat kicked up a notch as she pressed the electronic opener and nosed the Mustang into the garage.So what does he want, she wondered as she switched off the ignition and tossed her keys into her purse. she wondered as she switched off the ignition and tossed her keys into her purse. Why is he here? What does he expect? Why is he here? What does he expect?No, Sam, what do you expect?Her throat went dry and for the briefest of seconds she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. To touch him. To...Don"t go there. You don"t know him well enough. There"s something he"s not telling you, something he"s hiding, something dark. It"s the middle of the night, for crying out loud. Why is he waiting for you alone? This is no good.No good! But a drip of antic.i.p.ation ran through her blood.Silently arguing with herself, she slid out of the car, walked through the breezeway and into house, where Charon greeted her by crying and rubbing against her legs. "I missed you, too," she said to the black cat as she tossed her purse onto the counter and quickly disengaged the security alarm. Carrying the cat, she walked to the front door and slid the bolt.Ty was still on the swing, eyes in shadow. He glanced up at her, and she felt a tingle-like the cold breath of winter-against the back of her neck. "You"re beginning to make a habit of this," she said, as Charon, sensing freedom, scrambled from her arms and dashed across the porch."Is that bad?" he drawled."Could be."The swing creaked as he pushed himself to his feet. Intense hazel eyes caught in the pale light. "Maybe I find you irresistible.""And maybe that"s a line out of a bad movie.""Is it?" One dark, nearly sinful eyebrow raised. He finished his beer in one swallow as the wind chimes tinkled softly."I think you can do better," she said."Maybe you give me too much credit.""I"m sure I do.""That could be a mistake.""Probably."Leaving his empty bottle on the rail he walked to the door where Sam stood, arms folded over her chest, one shoulder propped against the jamb. The faint odor of musk tickled her nostrils. Night-darkened eyes regarded her slowly and she felt a nervous sheen of perspiration on her skin. He leaned closer, placed his bent arm over the top of hers on the doorframe. His nose was nearly touching hers, his breath warm against her face. "You know, I just thought I"d make sure you got home safely. Most women would want to thank me.""I"m not most women," she reminded him, but her heartbeat skyrocketed."No, Sam, you"re not." He was close enough that she could feel his heat. Her heart pounded wildly, and she read the dangerous promises in his eyes. His gaze fell to the open collar of her blouse, as if he could see her pulse jumping in the hollow of her throat. "That"s probably why I"m here.""A knight in shining armor-is that what you"d have me believe."His chuckle was low and s.e.xy. "Never.""So your intentions aren"t chivalrous?"He snorted. "Who says I have intentions?"It was her turn to c.o.c.k a disbelieving eyebrow. "Peddle that to someone who believes it. What would you have done if I hadn"t shown up here?""I would have checked with someone.""Who?" she asked, and noticed his smile grow slowly from one side of his beard-shadowed jaw to the other. "Whoever I had to."Was it the night with its full moon and hot breeze, or was it something else, something more primal, something within, that made her wonder how it would feel to have his skin rub against hers, how she would respond to the feel of his hands on her body? Or was it because she needed to escape the craziness that had become her life, the fear and tension that had become her companions in the last few weeks. Or...was it more basic? Was it simply that she"d been without a man for a long time, and she craved a man"s touch? Or that something deep within her, something she didn"t want to examine too closely, was attracted to secretive men with an edge?"The least you could do is invite me in," he suggested, his voice low."I"m considering it." She was aware that he was the barest of inches from her, too d.a.m.ned close. "If you behave.""Sorry, darlin", but that"s a promise I just can"t make," he drawled, and deep inside she quivered. What would it be like to make love to this man, to lie in his arms, to wake up with morning dancing in his eyes and desire running through his veins? Her throat caught."I think I owe you a gla.s.s of wine. It only seems fair to open the bottle and share it with you since you brought it over.""I"m all for fairness."She stepped out of the doorway, and he followed her to the kitchen, where she found the unopened bottle of Riesling in the refrigerator."Need help?" he asked, as she kicked off her shoes and snagged the corkscrew from a drawer."Not me, I was a Girl Scout.""Where they taught you to uncork a bottle of wine.""And I"ve got the merit badge to prove it.""I think you"re mixed up. Boy Scouts get merit badges. Girls get brownie points.""A lot you know," she grumbled. She pulled hard. The cork and corkscrew released from the bottle with a soft pop. She twirled the corkscrew in her hand, blew across the end and tucked it into her belt as if it were a six-gun."Very funny.""I thought so," she said over her shoulder as she stretchedto reach the winegla.s.ses in a tall cupboard. One gla.s.s, just have one gla.s.s, One gla.s.s, just have one gla.s.s, she told herself as she poured, all the while aware of Ty standing behind her, one shoulder propped against the door to the breezeway. "Here." She handed him one of the stemmed gla.s.ses and took the other for herself. she told herself as she poured, all the while aware of Ty standing behind her, one shoulder propped against the door to the breezeway. "Here." She handed him one of the stemmed gla.s.ses and took the other for herself."What should we toast to?" he asked, one dark brow lifting."Better days," she suggested."And nights."Her breath caught in her throat. "And nights." She touched the rim of her gla.s.s to his. She sipped her wine and watched as he took a swallow from his gla.s.s, noticed the way his Adam"s apple worked over the open collar of his shirt, remembered all too vividly the sinewy muscles of his arms and chest.What was she thinking? Why was her mind running to thoughts of hot kisses and hotter caresses? She didn"t know this man. Couldn"t trust him. Shouldn"t be thinking about making love to him, for G.o.d"s sake. And yet as she finished her wine, she knew that he cared enough to wait up for her, he cared enough to show up at the station and drive her home safely, he cared enough to risk his own life.If he"d wanted to harm her, he"d already had plenty of opportunities."This is all getting to you," he said as if reading her mind."I suppose.""It would get to anyone." Hazel eyes held hers, and she noticed the striations of green and brown in their depths. "Come on," he said, removing the corkscrew from her belt. "Let"s forget this for a while." Linking his fingers through hers, he grabbed the neck of the bottle with the hand holding his gla.s.s and propelled her through the living room."Hey, wait...where are we going?" she asked."You"ll see. Hold this." He handed her the bottle and gla.s.ses, unlocked the French doors and led her outside to the backyard.Moonlight spangled the dark water of the lake and cast a silver glow on the gra.s.s, shrubs, trees and the masts of Ty"s sailboat. Of course. His car hadn"t been parked in the driveway and Sam had thought he"d walked to the house. Instead, he"d used the boat."Wait a minute, what have you got in mind?" she asked, as he took hold of her hand again and pulled her toward the dock."You took a rain check, remember?" he said, jogging. Barefoot, she had to run to keep up with him. "I think it"s time I collected."The Bright Angel Bright Angel loomed before them. "And I think you"re nuts." loomed before them. "And I think you"re nuts.""Your professional opinion, no doubt," he said, as they reached the dock, and he helped her onto the sloop."No doubt." This was just plain crazy. And wonderful. As she clutched the gla.s.ses and bottle to her chest, he untied the moorings, started the engine, switched on the running lights and pulled away from the dock. In deeper water he unfurled the sails."Isn"t this illegal?" she asked, as the sails snapped and billowed in the wind. The sloop cut through the water, and the sh.o.r.e slipped away, blending into the darkness, a few spa.r.s.e houselights glowing warm and bright."What? Isn"t what illegal?" He was squinting into the darkness, hands on the wheel, legs braced on the deck."Sailing at night.""Don"t know. But if it is, it shouldn"t be."She inched forward and was standing next to him at the helm, the breeze fingering through her hair as the prow of the boat cut through the dark water. It was exhilarating and freeing after all the nights alone, the hours she"d spent worrying and tense. Stars winked bright in the blackened heavens, and the water stretched endlessly as Ty worked the wheel, making sure the sails caught the wind, the boom moving as he constantly loosened and tightened the lines."Is this how you live your life?" she asked, as he turned into the wind."What do you mean?""Not playing by the rules.""Maybe I play by my own.""That"s ducking the question.""Maybe."He swung the wheel around, and the boat shifted, spray flying in the air, Sam nearly losing her balance. His shirt flapped in the breeze, and she was reminded of the night she"d been certain he"d sailed near her house, that he"d been peering through her windows.He found a spot in a dark cove where he dropped anchor and lowered the sails. Stars twinkled brightly, the moon shone a watery blue. Sam reminded herself that they were completely alone. One man, one woman. Practically strangers.No one knows you"re here. No one knows you"re with Ty. Somewhere from the sh.o.r.e an owl hooted over the breeze. "Maybe you should tell me about yourself," she suggested. Somewhere from the sh.o.r.e an owl hooted over the breeze. "Maybe you should tell me about yourself," she suggested."And bore you to tears?""I won"t yawn.""Promise?""Scout"s honor," she said, holding up two fingers as the breeze tugged at her hair."Right. The Girl Scouts." He chuckled. "As I said, it"s a long and boring story.""Something tells me that nothing you"d say would bore me."He laughed and the sound was low and s.e.xy as it echoed across the water. "You just want me to spill my guts so you can psychoa.n.a.lyze me.""No way. I"ve had enough for the night." She leaned against the mast. "It"s your turn. You know a lot about me. Probably more than you should. Let"s even the score.""And I would do that by spilling my guts," he said, sipping from his gla.s.s and gazing at her with those intense eyes."That"s right. Tell me all," she said boldly, grabbing hold of the boom with one hand and leaning closer to him. "Including your deepest, darkest secret."He slid her a glance. "Is this like Truth or Dare?""The kids" game," she said, remembering back to when she was fourteen with Peter and a couple of his friends sleeping outside on the trampoline, a flashlight spinning between them, the unlucky victim having to either tell the truth about a very deep secret or accept a dare from the other players and do something awful the other kids came up with. "Yeah, it"s kind of like that," she said, "so shoot." She twirled her half-empty gla.s.s in the moonlight."I choose "dare.""You can"t.""Sure I can." His gaze held hers. "I chose "dare."She felt a wicked little shiver of antic.i.p.ation as water lapped at the sides of the sloop."Dare me to do something rather than tell the truth." Even in the darkness she saw the challenge in his eyes and despite the rational side of her mind telling her she was making a mistake of monstrous proportions, she took a gulp of her wine, and said, "Okay, I dare you to tell the truth.""Uh-uh-uh. That"s cheating. You lose your turn." He finished his wine and closed the distance between them, the toes of his shoes nudging against her bare feet."Wait a minute, that"s not how we played," she objected, but felt his arm slide around her waist. "I can"t lose a turn.""My boat," he said. "My rules." Through the cotton of her blouse she felt his hand splay over the small of her back. Heat seeped through the fabric, and she was suddenly having trouble drawing a breath. He was too close, his touch far too sensual. She was out in the middle of a vast lake, and no one knew where she was. Yet she couldn"t resist him. "It"s how I used to play the game," he whispered, his lips close to her ear. "So tell me, Samantha. Truth or dare?""I-I don"t know...." Her heart was racing, her blood on fire."Sure you do."She swallowed hard, knew the wine was affecting her. "Okay...dare.""I dare you to kiss me."Oh, G.o.d. The arm around her tightened, pulling her close as the boat rocked gently on the water and the masts creaked overhead. The arm around her tightened, pulling her close as the boat rocked gently on the water and the masts creaked overhead."That"s right, kiss me," he commanded, his breath hot against her neck. "And don"t stop.""Ever?" Sweat collected on her forehead."Until I say.""I don"t know, that could be dangerous.""Definitely," he promised. "I"m counting on it." His mouth was so close it touched her hair. Her knees turned liquid."But-""Shh. No questions. I said "dare," and dare it is." The hand at her back yanked her hard against him, forced her hips to his and she felt his erection hard and straining against his fly, pressed firmly against her mound.She licked her lips and he caught the motion. Though their mouths had not yet touched, she knew that she was going to do just as he asked. "Come on, Sam," he said, and her skin tingled. "I dare you. Kiss me."Water lapped. The wind sighed. Dark desire stole through her veins. She leaned forward. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her fingers around his neck, drew his head down to hers and molded her mouth to his. She parted her lips and he groaned, moved against her, pushing his legs between hers, stretching the seams of her skirt as his tongue plunged past her teeth.He was hard, and hot, his muscles straining as he kissed her.Don"t do this, Sam, don"t go this far...you don"t know him...He found the curve of her neck and nipped.Inside she pulsed, wanting, feeling the b.u.t.tons of her blouse slipping open, the air against her bare skin, the feel of his lips and teeth against her breast as his hands slipped beneath the waistband of her skirt, probing, touching, hot fingertips against her bare skin.She throbbed for him, her fingers sc.r.a.ping off his shirt, her hand on the fly of his jeans as he pulled her onto the deck. He was breathing hard, his hands and lips everywhere, and she couldn"t stop.A dim thought that he could be the person terrorizing her sizzled through her mind, but was quickly gone, lost in his musky scent and the taste of salt upon his skin. His hands were everywhere, stripping, touching, caressing, finding erotic spots on her body she hadn"t known existed."You want me," he said, as her fingers slid down the tense hard muscles of his arms."No..." she could barely get the words out as he unhooked her bra and slid it off her shoulders. "You...you want me.""Mmmm." He kissed her breast, his teeth sc.r.a.ping her nipple. She writhed. Perspiration covered her skin. "You want me.""No-""Yes." He lowered his lips, kissed the other nipple. Harder. Nipping. She arched again, felt the warm moistness between her legs.Squirming beneath him, hot and wanting, she closed her eyes. Her blood thundered, her body ached for him."That"s my girl," he whispered, one hand sliding beneath her skirt to her calf."Oh, G.o.d," she cried, as he kissed her abdomen and his fingers caressed her calf, climbing higher, past her knee, bunching her skirt as his tongue rimmed her navel. She couldn"t breathe, could only arch, antic.i.p.ating, wanting, pulsing for him."Let go, Samantha," he breathed against her skin and tugged at the waistband of her skirt with his teeth.She was so hot...so hot...and his hand crept ever upward, blunt fingertips skimming her inner thigh, hot breath warming her abdomen. The back of her throat was dry as a desert and she moved restlessly beneath him."Let go, I"m here," he promised, his words pressed against her skin, her fingers holding his head fast as he reached the elastic of her panties and pushed them to the side, giving him just enough room to probe with his fingers."Oooh," she whispered, clawing his hair. "Ohhhhh, Ty.""That"s it, Samantha."She moved with him, lifting her hips, gasping for air.Still touching he lifted his head and found her lips, kissing her hard as his fingers worked their magic. Faster. Deeper. Harder."I don"t think...I...I..."She couldn"t breathe, she couldn"t think, and she ached for more...so much more. "Ty...Oh, G.o.d...Ty..." She moved with him, kissing him, clinging to him, her fingers digging into his bare back as the first explosion came in a blinding rush. She convulsed, but he didn"t stop, kept kneading her, didn"t allow her to relax. The heat built again. Hotter."You want me," he whispered into her ear."Yes. d.a.m.n it, yes." She scrabbled at the fly of his jeans, yanked hard. With a series of pops the denim parted. He groaned as her fingers surrounded him. He kicked off his shoes and Levi"s in a swift motion, then pushed her legs apart with his knees."You...you want me..." she said, looking up in the darkness, barely able to make out his face in the starlight."More than you"ll ever know, darlin"." His mouth cut off any other thoughts as he thrust hard into her and held her fast, pinning her to the deck with his body, pushing against her, holding her as if he"d never let go. Heat seared through her again and again.More, she thought wildly, she thought wildly, I want more I want more as the tempo increased. His breathing was as shallow as hers, his body straining, muscled thighs pressing hard. She heard a wild moan echoing through the night, not realizing it was her own voice. She collapsed, drained, and he reached beneath her, rotating until she was atop him, her flushed skin cooling as the wind touched it. as the tempo increased. His breathing was as shallow as hers, his body straining, muscled thighs pressing hard. She heard a wild moan echoing through the night, not realizing it was her own voice. She collapsed, drained, and he reached beneath her, rotating until she was atop him, her flushed skin cooling as the wind touched it.Strong hips moved beneath her. Big hands covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, kneading and moving. She caught his rhythm, pushing down on his shoulders with her palms, breathing in the fresh moist air of the lake, the heat in her building again.The wind tore at her hair and she looked down into the dark, secretive eyes of this man who had become her lover, this man she barely knew, and her fingers clenched in his shoulder muscles.He drew in a quick sharp breath and then stiffened within her, the cords of his neck straining, his mouth drawn back as he released. Samantha spasmed, her entire body convulsing as she fell against him, lost to the night, lost to the world, lost to this man she knew better than to trust.G.o.d help me.
Chapter Nineteen.
Chapter Twenty.
Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-one"That"s a wrap," Melanie said as the strains of "Midnight Confession" faded and an advertis.e.m.e.nt for an e-company started rolling.Shoving her chair away from the desk, Sam let out her breath. She"d been nervous during the show. Edgy. Certain "John" would call again, that he"d only phoned her at the house to prove that he could. To scare her. But he hadn"t called in.But he"d been listening. Waiting. Knowing he was stretching her nerves to the breaking point. After the phone call at her house, she"d decided to bait him. Her program tonight had been about communications, specifically love letters, Dear John letters and even threatening notes though she hadn"t mentioned the card she"d received in her car.Listener response had been hot, but "John" hadn"t phoned in...yet...There was still time. He"d proven that before when he"d called in after her program had aired.Though it was after midnight now. Technically Friday-the day after Annie Seger"s birthday.She turned off her equipment, studied the unlit phone-line b.u.t.tons for a second, then met Melanie and Tiny in the hallway."No weirdos tonight," Tiny observed."So far," Sam agreed.Tiny shoved his gla.s.ses onto the bridge of his nose. "You"re disappointed, aren"t you? You kind of get off when he calls.""Get off?" Sam repeated, her temper sparking. "No...but we can"t find him if he hides." She didn"t add that she wanted to lure him out, hook him, reel him in and then see that he never terrorized anyone again. Yes, in a perverse way, she wanted to know what made him tick, but more than that, she wanted him off the streets, away from the phones and out of her life."Do you think he"d really call in again after hours?" Melanie asked as she searched in her purse and came up with a tiny box of Tic-Tacs. "Wouldn"t that be pushing his luck? I mean, he"s got to have figured that you"ve been to the police by now. He doesn"t know that they aren"t tracing the calls-or that we aren"t." She plopped half a dozen tiny mints into her palm and tossed them into her mouth."Maybe the guy knows what a cheap-a.s.s George Hannah is," Tiny grumbled, then waved his hands in the air. "I didn"t say that, okay? I don"t want to hear about it in the next staff meeting.""It"s what we were all thinking anyway," Melanie said, yawning, as she held up the near-empty plastic box of mints in offering. "Anyone?""I"m good," Tiny said, declining."If you say so."Sam shook her head. "No, thanks."Melanie yawned again. "G.o.d, I"m dead tonight. Anyone want to split a Diet c.o.ke?" She was already heading down the hallway toward the kitchen."I"ve still got some." Tiny turned back to the booth to set up Lights Out. Lights Out.Sam was right behind but had one ear open, listening for the phones. "No caffeine for me," she said to Melanie. It was one o"clock on Friday morning; Sam"s shift was over for the week, and she couldn"t imagine working on the weekends as well."Would you mind loaning me a buck for the machine?" Melanie asked as they rounded a corner and pa.s.sed by a wall lined with pictures of local celebrities who had been interviewed at WSLJ."After you took care of Charon and the house while I was gone? I think I can manage.""Good."Sam found her wallet and handed Melanie a bill as they neared the kitchen. The first strains of soft instrumental music wafted through the hallways. Lights Out Lights Out had begun and the phone hadn"t rung. "Has Eleanor mentioned anything about running had begun and the phone hadn"t rung. "Has Eleanor mentioned anything about running Midnight Confessions Midnight Confessions seven nights instead of five?" Sam asked, trailing after Melanie. seven nights instead of five?" Sam asked, trailing after Melanie."I heard it through the grapevine around her. Gator"s not too happy..." Melanie"s voice faded. "What in the world...Maybe you shouldn"t come in here." Melanie stopped dead center in the doorway and was staring to her left, toward the French doors. The dollar bill that Sam had given her had fallen to the floor."Why not?" Sam craned her neck to look over Melanie"s shoulder.Her blood ran cold at the sight of the cake-iced in white frosting and supporting about two dozen red candles. "Jesus.""This has something to do with that Annie girl," Melanie said, swallowing hard.Sam pushed past her and strode to the table. Her head was pounding, her heart pumping wildly. "Who did this?" she asked. "Who got in here and planted this thing?""I...I...don"t know."HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANNIE blazed across the white icing in red letters while the candles were burning, red wax dripping down the sides of the cake like rivulets of blood, smoke twisting upward from the tiny flames. blazed across the white icing in red letters while the candles were burning, red wax dripping down the sides of the cake like rivulets of blood, smoke twisting upward from the tiny flames."Is this someone"s idea of a joke?" Sam asked, glaring down at the concoction. She counted. Twenty-five candles. One for every year of Annie Seger"s life and death. "Did you do this, Melanie?""Me? Why? Are you nuts?" Melanie shook her head. "I-I"ve been in the booth all night. You know it. You were there..." Her face crumpled in on itself, and she blinked as if she might cry. "...How could you even think-"Sam wasn"t listening. "Tiny!" Sam yelled, storming to the corridor, her blood pumping hard, anger, disgust and shame spurring her to the booth where Tiny was adjusting the volume and the pretaped program. He looked up, saw her and held up a finger to keep her quiet and at bay. Her fists clenched and it was all she could do not to burst into the gla.s.sed-in room and rip him up one side and down the other. By the time he lumbered into the hallway, her fingernails had dug into her palms and she was livid. "You look like you could spit nails.""I can," she bit out furiously. "I found the cake.""The cake," he repeated dully. "What cake?""Annie Seger"s birthday cake.""Her what? The girl who called in the other night? What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?" He seemed genuinely perplexed."Don"t you know?""For G.o.d"s sake, Sam, you"re talking like a lunatic." His face was red now. Anger? Shame? Regret?Melanie had followed Sam halfway down the hall. "I think you"d better see for yourself.""Jesus Christ, now what?" Lips compressed, beads of sweat appearing on his pockmarked skin, Tiny strode through the maze of hallways and into the kitchen. Sam was right on his heels, following him step for step. Around the corner, into the kitchen, to stop dead in his tracks. "What the-s.h.i.t.""My sentiments exactly," Sam said."But who would do this? How could they?" he asked, turning. His skin had paled, leaving the red blotches of his acne even more p.r.o.nounced."My guess is it"s either you or Melanie. No one else is here.""Except the security guard," Melanie put in."He doesn"t even know me." Sam wasn"t buying it, though, for the life of her, she couldn"t figure out why either Melanie or Tiny would want to sabotage her this way. Melanie was her a.s.sistant and friend, a person she"d trusted to look after her job, house and cat while she was away and Tiny was half in love with her from the minute she"d walked into WSLJ. He was too smart to be reduced to schoolboy antics to garner her attention.But then who? who?Melanie said, "The guard could"ve been put up to it."Tiny seemed genuinely disgusted. "Are you accusing me, Sam? You really think I"d do something like this to...to...you?" he asked, a wounded look crossing his eyes behind his thick gla.s.ses."I don"t know." It did seem far-fetched. Irrational. If whoever was behind it had wanted to rattle her...mission accomplished."And Gator was here not an hour ago, and so was Ramblin" Rob. I saw him at the record case looking for some moldy-oldy to play tomorrow," Tiny said."The boss was here earlier, too. I saw George in his office, on the phone," Melanie added."Great." So half the staff could"ve done the job."Don"t you trust me?" Tiny asked. His lips folded in on themselves, and he glared at Sam as if she was named Judas."Of course.""Then knock it off." He looked like a wounded bear."And don"t don"t look at me," Melanie said, backing up, palms outward. "I"ve been with both of you all night." look at me," Melanie said, backing up, palms outward. "I"ve been with both of you all night."Tiny shook his head and held up a finger. "You took a break.""To go to the bathroom, for G.o.d"s sake!" she said. "For the first time in my life I wish George was perverted enough to have some surveillance cameras installed.""You and me both," Sam said, then felt the tickle of a breeze against the back of her neck and noticed the muted sounds of the city filtering into the room-traffic, a solitary trombone, the wind sighing through the palms in Jackson Square. Heart in her throat, she walked to the French doors that opened onto the unused balcony. They were unlocked, just slightly cracked. "Someone was in here," she whispered, goose b.u.mps rising on her skin. "They came through here." She pushed the doors open and the sound of traffic and voices drifted in with the warm breath of the wind. Laughter and the moan of the trombone."They? You think it was more than one guy?" Tiny asked, following her onto the balcony."I wish I knew," she whispered harshly, crooking her neck to see around the corner of the building and searching the night-dark streets of New Orleans. Who had broken into the office and how had he done it? Wrapping her fingers around the decorative railing, she stared across the square to the cathedral, splashed with light, the clock face glowing as bright as a full moon, the tall spires black and jutting toward the dark sky. In front of the cathedral was the park, where palm trees blocked her view of the statue of Andrew Jackson and his rearing horse. The park was supposed to be empty now, pedestrians were locked away from the circular sidewalks at night. Had her tormentor scaled the fence, and was he lurking there, hiding in the shadows, watching her now with hidden eyes?Despite the humidity, she felt cold from the inside out. "You b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she whispered, her eyes scouring the depths of Jackson Square before she swung her gaze south, past the stately old buildings, along the narrow streets to the levee and the dark river beyond. Was he skulking in a doorway, secreting himself on a small terrace such as this, taunting her silently with his presence."I"m calling the security guard," Melanie said from inside the building."Good." Sam"s gaze swept the railing and floor of the never-used balcony. In the weak light she saw nothing other than pigeon droppings and dirt. "I"ll phone Eleanor on another line. If I don"t, she"ll be ticked. You"-she turned and pointed a finger at Tiny"s chest-"phone the police and make sure that Lights Out Lights Out is on track-and that no one else calls in." is on track-and that no one else calls in.""You really think "John"s" gonna call again, don"t you?" he accused hotly. Was there just a hint of jealousy in his voice?She glanced at the table where the cake was still displayed. "No, Tiny," she admitted, walking inside and staring down at the rapidly burning candles. "I think he already did." Bending down, she blew out every one of the twenty-five d.a.m.ning flames just as the phone jangled.Sam jumped."I"ll get it," Melanie said, but Sam was already halfway to the nearest phone available, at the front desk. Line one was blinking wildly.Bracing herself, Sam leaned over Melba"s desk and grabbed the receiver. She punched the b.u.t.ton. "WSLJ.""Samantha?"She nearly wilted at the sound of Ty"s voice. "Hi," she said, rounding the computer extension and falling into Melba"s chair. It was so good to hear from him. "What"s up?""I wanted to see that you were okay," he said. "I listened to the show and wondered if you"d like me to pick you up." At that moment the security guard, a beefy man of about thirty-five, with a shaved head and beginning of a pot belly, walked through the door. "I"ll be fine," she said into the phone. "We did get a little surprise down here, and I was about to call the police." Quickly she told him about the birthday cake."I"ll be there in twenty minutes.""I"m fine." She nodded toward the guard. "I"m sure Wes will walk me to my car.""Wes, my a.s.s. What good was he when someone broke in? Why didn"t he hear it? Why the h.e.l.l didn"t the alarms go off? You wait for me and yeah, call the cops. p.r.o.nto. I"m on my way.""You don"t have to-"He clicked off, and the light for line one died. "You"d better check out the kitchen," she said to Wes as she hung up, and then it hit her. Ty had called on line one. Because that was the number listed in the book or available from Directory a.s.sistance. If line one was in use, the calls automatically switched to line two, then three and four depending upon how busy the lines were. Calls could stack up while waiting for a response.But John had phoned in on line two, even when none of the other lines were busy. Somehow he knew the number. Either he"d been in the building, worked for the phone company, had access to the phone records or he worked at WSLJ.A cold drip of fear slid through her blood. Was it possible? Was someone at the station responsible for the terror? How else would the cake be left in the kitchen? Either John or an accomplice knew the ins and outs of this old building, understood how WSLJ ran, and had a personal vendetta against her.Who?George Hannah?Tiny?Melanie?Eleanor?She trusted every one of them. And those she knew less well, Gator and Ramblin" Rob, some of the technicians and salespeople, even Melba. They were all part of her family here in New Orleans.But one of them hates you, Sam. Enough to scare the liver out of you. She stared at the phone, quiet now, no lights blinking in the semidarkness. The pictures of celebrities, the framed awards, the voodoo dolls and baby alligators all backlit in glowing neon seemed macabre tonight. She stared at the phone, quiet now, no lights blinking in the semidarkness. The pictures of celebrities, the framed awards, the voodoo dolls and baby alligators all backlit in glowing neon seemed macabre tonight.Whoever it was who meant to terrorize her had done a d.a.m.ned good job.Until she found out who was behind the bizarre events of her life in the last few weeks, she"d never feel safe here again.
Chapter Twenty-five.
Chapter Twenty-six.
Chapter Twenty-seven.
Chapter Twenty-eight.
Chapter Twenty-nine.
Chapter Thirty.
Chapter 29
Chapter Thirty-one"You know I can"t divulge patient information, Samantha," Dania Erickson said in that well-modulated I-know-better-than-you voice Sam remembered from her days sitting through psych lectures at Tulane. Sam had finally caught up with her old nemesis. Finally, the "doctor was in" at Our Lady of Mercy in California and not happy about being disturbed.Tough, Sam thought as she held the receiver of the phone in the office she shared with the other DJs to her ear and stared at the composite drawing of the killer, a flat image that stared up at her through dark lenses. Music from a prerecorded program, some kind of soft jazz, played through the speakers, and the buzz of conversation drifted in through the open door. Sam thought as she held the receiver of the phone in the office she shared with the other DJs to her ear and stared at the composite drawing of the killer, a flat image that stared up at her through dark lenses. Music from a prerecorded program, some kind of soft jazz, played through the speakers, and the buzz of conversation drifted in through the open door.Dania had always had something to say back in those days at Tulane, had always tried to ingratiate herself with the teachers, including Dr. Jeremy Leeds, who had ended up as Sam"s husband. Sam suspected that her marriage had always rankled Dania, and now Dania wasn"t giving an inch. Sam and Dania had been playing phone tag for nearly a week and had finally connected, not that it was doing any good. "Anything I have is privileged information.""I realize that, but there"s a serial killer on the loose here in New Orleans. The police have linked him to Annie Seger, Kent"s sister. He could be a murderer, Dania.""Doesn"t change anything, you know that. I did treat Kent years ago, after his sister"s suicide, but other than that, I can"t divulge any information. It could cost me my job.""We"re talking about women"s lives.""I"m sorry, Samantha. Truly, but I can"t help you." With that she clicked off and Sam was left holding the receiver of the phone."Great," Sam muttered. It was Thursday afternoon and in less than half an hour she was supposed to attend a special staff meeting. Everyone at the station was on pins and needles. The police had installed taps and tracers on the phones, the staff was warned not to say a word about a link between Dr. Sam"s Midnight Confessions Midnight Confessions and the serial killer, but somehow the word had leaked out. As if she were Pandora and had set Chaos free, the city blamed her for the monster who was stalking its streets. and the serial killer, but somehow the word had leaked out. As if she were Pandora and had set Chaos free, the city blamed her for the monster who was stalking its streets.WSLJ had been besieged with calls. The press wanted interviews. Listeners demanded information. The phone lines never stopped flashing.George Hannah was thrilled. The audience for Midnight Confessions Midnight Confessions had grown seemingly exponentially overnight. It was the one show to listen to, part of daily conversation at Cafe du Monde over beignets and cafe au lait, or the buzz in the bars on and off Bourbon Street, or part of the evening news or water-cooler conversation in the business district. Cab drivers, oil workers, bartenders, accountants, college kids-they all had an interest in had grown seemingly exponentially overnight. It was the one show to listen to, part of daily conversation at Cafe du Monde over beignets and cafe au lait, or the buzz in the bars on and off Bourbon Street, or part of the evening news or water-cooler conversation in the business district. Cab drivers, oil workers, bartenders, accountants, college kids-they all had an interest in Midnight Confessions. Midnight Confessions. Samantha Leeds, AKA Doctor Sam was the Big Easy"s newfound celebrity, more infamous than famous. Yes, George Hannah was beside himself, and the rumors of his selling the station for an obscene sum ran rampant down the "aorta" and raced through the crooked hallways of the station. Samantha Leeds, AKA Doctor Sam was the Big Easy"s newfound celebrity, more infamous than famous. Yes, George Hannah was beside himself, and the rumors of his selling the station for an obscene sum ran rampant down the "aorta" and raced through the crooked hallways of the station.Eleanor was worried sick. She wanted to cancel the show. Popularity was all well and good, but this insanity was too much.Melba couldn"t keep up with the phone lines.Gator was sullen as opposed to Ramblin" Rob"s amus.e.m.e.nt at "the whole darned thing. You"ve created a d.a.m.ned sideshow, Sam, my girl," he"d said early in the week as he"d clapped her on the back and laughed so hard he"d ended up in a coughing fit that sounded as if his lungs were about to explode.Tiny was run ragged and Melanie, looking tired, complained of being overworked, needing a raise and wanting a bigger part of the show-better yet, her own show would be nice.Sam had been offered a job at another radio station in town and some kind of media agent in Atlanta had phoned her, suggesting that there were bigger markets, that she might want to move to New York or LA.Which wouldn"t be a bad idea, considering. If she moved back to the West Coast she could be near her father. And thousands of miles from Ty. And thousands of miles from Ty. That thought made her wince. She"d come to love him, there was just no doubt about it, and in the past couple of weeks he"d become an integral part of her life-him and that big, slow-moving dog of his-had moved in for the most part. She didn"t kid herself that he loved her; no, he was protecting his interests and absolving some of the guilt he felt because he was certain he"d stirred up this whole mess. That thought made her wince. She"d come to love him, there was just no doubt about it, and in the past couple of weeks he"d become an integral part of her life-him and that big, slow-moving dog of his-had moved in for the most part. She didn"t kid herself that he loved her; no, he was protecting his interests and absolving some of the guilt he felt because he was certain he"d stirred up this whole mess.All in all, Sam"s life had become a madhouse.And a killer was stalking the streets.A killer who had remained silent for nearly a week.But he hadn"t gone away, Sam was sure of it. He was biding his time, watching, ever-present, ready to strike again. She sensed it every time she picked up the phone, every instant she pressed one of the blinking lights on her console, every night when the sun went down.It was just a matter of time.Sam had attended Leanne Jaquillard"s funeral, a small event with most of the girls from the Boucher Center in attendance. Leanne"s mother, Marletta, had been in the tiny, hot chapel near the river, and when Sam had tried to give her condolences, Marletta had turned a cold shoulder. Marletta hadn"t been as openly hostile as Estelle Faraday had been years before at Annie Seger"s funeral, but the message was the same: Marletta blamed Samantha for her daughter"s death. In this case Sam couldn"t argue. If Leanne hadn"t known her, chances were she"d be alive today.The police had thought the murderer might attend the funeral and they"d had undercover cops inside the church and hidden cameras taking pictures of the small group of mourners.John hadn"t made an appearance.Or no one saw him.In the meantime Sam spent days poring over her notes, her nights in Ty"s arms. They made love as if each night would be their last, and Sam wouldn"t let herself think where the relationship would lead, if anywhere. It was doomed, started on lies, based on a mutual need to bring the killer to justice.In her waking hours, when not preparing for the show and coming up with topics she hoped would entice John from hiding, she"d read through the information Ty had gathered on his family, inhaled everything she could about serial killers and the psychology of murder, then trying to make sense of the clues she had as to "John"s" ident.i.ty and his motivation. And what was with the dark gla.s.ses? Did he always wear them? Was it part of his disguise? Sam had a theory.She dialed the police station, left a message for Bentz and before she was finished checking her e-mail, received a call back."This is Rick Bentz. You called?" he asked."Yeah," Sam said, "I want to run something by you.""Shoot.""From the minute I received that publicity picture of me, the one with the eyes cut out, I had this feeling that whoever sent it to me was trying to give me a message, not just terrorize me, but I thought there might be some sort of subliminal information that even he might not realize he was pa.s.sing along.""Such as?""That he didn"t want me to see him, or recognize him, that...there was some symbolism with the eyes being mutilated." She picked up the composite picture sitting on the desk. "And both eyewitnesses said the guy was wearing sungla.s.ses, even though it was night, right?""Yep.""At first I thought it was just part of his disguise, but maybe there"s another message here-that he can"t stand to see what he"s done, that he doesn"t want to witness his own act."There was a pause. Bentz was mulling it over."And then he calls and there"s all these religious references, and one of my first thoughts was that he was making reference to John Milton"s Paradise Lost. Paradise Lost. He calls himself John, which could be anything from John Milton to John the Baptist, that part I"m not clear on." She stared at the computer drawing. "I had discarded the idea, but now I"m not so sure. Somehow I think he"s referring to himself as Lucifer, that he was somehow thrown out of heaven or paradise and even though he"s blaming me, I"d guess he"s blaming himself." He calls himself John, which could be anything from John Milton to John the Baptist, that part I"m not clear on." She stared at the computer drawing. "I had discarded the idea, but now I"m not so sure. Somehow I think he"s referring to himself as Lucifer, that he was somehow thrown out of heaven or paradise and even though he"s blaming me, I"d guess he"s blaming himself.""This is your theory?" he said."Part of it, yes. I do have a degree in psychology," she said, bristling. "A doctorate. I"m not your usual dial-a-shrink.""Hey, I didn"t say you were wrong. I"ll give it some thought. And meanwhile, you keep safe. This guy"s not done.""George should have canceled this." Eleanor eyed the crowd packed into the courtyard of the old hotel. Palm trees glittered with thousands of lights, huge pots were filled with fragrant blossoms, and mannequins dressed in differing costumes loitered through the hallways, courtyard and hotel lobby. While waiters served champagne and hors d"oeuvres on large trays, music from a jazz combo positioned on the second of three balconies filtered over the crowd.Champagne flowed from an ice sculpture of the station"s logo and George Hannah, smooth in his tux and practiced smile, was in his element, working the crowd, shaking hands, making small talk, looking, as ever, for investors for WSLJ."He couldn"t have canceled," Sam said, "it was too late. This had been planned for months.""Then he could have done it up right. Found a decent place to have it, even rented one of the plantations for the night. This place is falling down." Eleanor"s dark eyes flashed as she gazed up at the stucco walls and terraced rooms with their green shutters and filigreed railings. There were cracks in the plaster, some of the paint peeling."It"s being renovated," Sam pointed out, searching the crowd for Ty. "I"ve seen work crews coming and going all afternoon while we were setting up.""This hotel should have been demolished fifty years ago.""It"s part of New Orleans history." Sam knew the reasons they"d chosen this smaller hotel. It had character, was situated in the French Quarter and was cheap. George had worked a deal. Which was good for the Boucher Center, who would reap the benefits. Yes, they"d had some complications from the work crews who were restoring and renovating the old rooms, but the hotel staff had bent over backward trying to accommodate the crowd and the workmen had cordoned off the reconstruction areas.Conversation buzzed throughout the courtyard as the music played. Samantha managed to keep her cool, though she caught surrept.i.tious glances cast her way from some of the guests. She understood why. Her name had been in the papers and on the local news, tied to the series of killings and the maniac who called her. She thought of Leanne. How the girl had looked forward to this event and now was dead. Sam"s heart wrenched. Guilt weighed heavily on her mind. If only she"d called Leanne back sooner, if only she"d read her e-mail, if only...John hadn"t known about her. Her jaw set.How had John known how close she"d been to Leanne. Who the h.e.l.l was he? Someone close to her? Who? Who? Someone she considered a friend. Through an arbor, she saw Gator lurking near the bar and tossing back one drink after another. Tiny, looking awkward in a too-small tux standing away from the crowd while nervously smoking a cigarette. Ramblin" Rob was schmoozing with a local television hostess and Melanie, in gold lame and five inch heels, was keeping a close watch on every move George Hannah made. Someone she considered a friend. Through an arbor, she saw Gator lurking near the bar and tossing back one drink after another. Tiny, looking awkward in a too-small tux standing away from the crowd while nervously smoking a cigarette. Ramblin" Rob was schmoozing with a local television hostess and Melanie, in gold lame and five inch heels, was keeping a close watch on every move George Hannah made.Renee and Anisha, dressed up in high heels and long dresses, practically beamed as they, along with the directors of the center, explained about the programs to the guests who inquired.Leanne should be here.Sam tried to ignore the guilt that had been her constant companion since the girl"s death..She"s dead because she knew you. Murdered by a psychotic maniac."Don"t go there," Eleanor advised as if reading her mind. She, too, was looking at the knot of people collecting around the table for the Boucher Center. "I know what you"re thinking. You couldn"t help it.""I don"t know. I think that if I would have responded to her, called her back sooner or did some something different, she would be alive today.""Don"t beat yourself up." Eleanor advised, though she looked nervous and drawn despite her makeup, jewelry and shimmering black dress. She"d insisted upon plain clothes policemen and Bentz had agreed. Hotel security was supposed to be mingling through the crowd and yet Sam had the sinking sensation that if John wanted to be here, he would be. The composite picture in the paper wouldn"t be a deterrent, if anything, she thought, trying to second guess him, the fact that the police had some idea of what he looked like would present a challenge. She spotted Bentz, tugging at the collar of his white shirt, looking uncomfortable standing guard in one doorway. Across the courtyard, Montoya was leaning against a pillar and surveying the crowd."Try to enjoy yourself," Eleanor advised."You, too.""I"ll smile if you will," Eleanor said and managed to do just that as George Hannah approached and introduced her to some parish officials.Sam forced a grin even though she noticed two people she would rather avoid. Her ex-husband was parting the crowd and heading in her direction while Trish LaBelle was holding court near the bar."Samantha!" Jeremy called and she gritted her teeth as he reached her and brushed a familiar kiss across her cheek."Don"t," she warned. "Why not?""Just don"t." She saw a flash of anger in his eyes and something else, something darker. "It makes me uncomfortable." Where the devil was Ty?"A kiss on the cheek? After what"s been going on with you? For the love of Christ, Sam, I would have thought you would take any friend you could get.""I have to draw the line somewhere.""So you start with ex-husbands?""I only have one," she reminded him sharply as he snagged a gla.s.s of champagne from a tray."So far.""Ever.""You know, Sam, in my professional opinion, all this bitterness indicates that you"re still not over me.""Can it, Jeremy. That"s a crock. You and I both know it. Now, what is it you want? Didn"t you say something about there being something going on with me? What"s that?" The combo, joined by a smokey-voiced singer, lit into a slow rendition of "Fever.""You"ve collected a stalker. One who might be a serial killer. It"s been reported on the news and in the papers. Why do you think there"s such a big turn-out tonight?"She felt suddenly sick inside. Maybe because she was too close to her ex-husband, or maybe because she"d thought the same thing herself. The people weren"t here to support the charity event so much as gawk at her.Jeremy sipped from his gla.s.s and waved at someone across the sea of guests. "At least you"ve got what you always wanted," he said. "Fame, or, well infamy and that"s good news not only for you, but the station as well.""Good news? Women are dead, Jeremy. As in never coming back. I don"t know how anyone could construe that as good news." With that she turned and slid through a group of women who were talking local politics. Samantha wasn"t interested but she did want to escape Jeremy."Are you okay?" Melanie"s voice caught up with her. Turning, she found her a.s.sistant staring at her. "You look like you"ve seen a ghost.""Just the ghost of marriage past and believe me, it was hideous," Sam replied."So where"s the new man in your life-Ty?" Melanie asked."Hopefully on his way." From the corner of her eye, Sam caught a glimpse of George Hannah locked in an animated conversation with Trish LaBelle. Melanie was watching the scene as well and her expression hardened just a bit. "What about you? Where"s the new boyfriend?""Busy," Melanie said with a sigh. "As usual.""I"d like to meet him.""You will...sometime," she said vaguely just as Ty appeared beneath the arched entrance and Sam felt her pulse jump just a bit. He spied her and made a bee-line in her direction. Gone were the disreputable jeans and T shirts, in their stead was a black tuxedo."Time for me to disappear," Melanie said with a trace of envy. "The he-man cometh." She slipped past a huge pot overflowing with heady blossoms, then edged around a mannequin dressed in antebellum splendor just as Ty reached Samantha."Sorry I"m late. I got held up. Navarrone. The guy"s timing leaves a lot to be desired, then traffic was a b.i.t.c.h." He caught the stem of a winegla.s.s balanced upon a tray carried by a slim, bored-looking waiter."I managed to survive without you," she teased."Did you? Hmm." His eyes held hers for just an instant. "And here I thought you"d be pining away for me." A slow, s.e.xy smile crawled across his face."Dreamer."The band struck up another song but it faded quickly, as if the speakers had suddenly given out. Few people noticed as conversation droned, but Ty glanced up at the balcony. "Technical problems," he said watching as the ba.s.s player fiddled with the amplifier."Shouldn"t be. Half the people in the station can handle this kind of equipment. Rob, George, Melanie, Tiny, even I know how to work the basic stuff."A few more people seemed to notice that the music had stopped and Eleanor headed toward Tiny, gesturing toward the second story. Tiny turned for the stairs but not before a screeching of a microphone, feedback of some sort, caught all the guests" attention."What the devil?"Music began to play, but not from the band, no it was the first chord of "A Hard Day"s Night.""Oh, no," Sam said, her heart thundering.The music played and faded quickly, then Sam"s voice filled the tightly packed arena. "Good evening, New Orleans and welcome to "Good evening, New Orleans and welcome to Midnight Confessions..." Midnight Confessions...""Did you tape this?" Ty demanded."No." She saw George Hannah stop talking and Eleanor chase after Tiny. The courtyard was instantly quiet. "...tonight we"re going to be discussing...." "...tonight we"re going to be discussing...." then Sam"s voice faded. She felt two hundred pair of eyes upon her. then Sam"s voice faded. She felt two hundred pair of eyes upon her. "...sacrifice and...retribution..." "...sacrifice and...retribution..."He"s taped together some of my shows, she thought, her heart racing wildy, her eyes scanning the crowd. He was here. She knew it. But where? She searched the entrances and balconies...where the h.e.l.l was he? she thought, her heart racing wildy, her eyes scanning the crowd. He was here. She knew it. But where? She searched the entrances and balconies...where the h.e.l.l was he?Tiny was climbing to the balcony and Eleanor had turned her attention toward Sam. Marching through the crowd, she glared at Sam. "Did you know anything about this?""Of course not.""Get her out of here," she ordered Ty."This is Midnight Confessions Midnight Confessions and so I invite you to call in...what"s on your mind, New Orleans? Let me know..." and so I invite you to call in...what"s on your mind, New Orleans? Let me know...""What the h.e.l.l"s going on?" George was looking straight at Eleanor. "Is this someone"s idea of a sick joke?""You tell me," Eleanor shot back as Bentz, talking into a walkie talkie, joined them."Find out where he"s broadcasting from," he said, snapping off the handset and glaring at Eleanor. "We"ll need to get everyone out of here-I"ve got backup coming and we"ll usher everyone into the parking lot across the street."George stepped forward. Got in the detective"s face."You can"t have our guests treated like cattle!""Have you ever sacrificed yourself?""Watch me." Bentz snapped his fingers to a uniformed cop. "I want the names and addresses of everyone who walked into the building in the last week. I"m talking construction crew, hotel staff, guests, delivery men, anyone. Now, let"s get going." Already people were moving toward the doors.Bentz"s radio crackled and he snapped it on. "Okay, I"ll be there." He snapped the handset off and explained. "Looks like we found the source." He started toward a stairwell and Sam was on his heels. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, "Police business. You stay.""No way. This is about me."Bentz whirled. Sweat dotted his brow and his face was florid. "You"ll d.a.m.ned well do what I say. Until I find out that the scene is safe and secure and the crime-scene team has had a chance to check it out, you stay here." He glanced at Ty. "Make sure she obeys."He turned again and left Dr. Sam sputtering. d.a.m.ned fool woman. Didn"t she know how dangerous this was? He took the steps down to a bas.e.m.e.nt room where several cops were standing guard."This it?""Looks like," one of the plainclothes cops said. "An old storage room, had been cleared out for the construction."But it wasn"t empty tonight. A tape player connected to wires running into the walls was on the floor and seated in a folding chair in the middle of the room was a mannequin, stripped naked, wearing only a Mardi Gras mask, a red wig and a rosary knotted around her throat."Jesus," Bentz whispered as he stepped into the dank room. Using gloves he removed the red wig, then the mask. "Holy s.h.i.t." The mannequin"s eyes had been blackened and gouged to resemble the mutilated bills.Bentz was certain Samantha Leeds would be next.
Chapter 31
Chapter One.
Chapter Eight.
Chapter Thirty-Three.
Chapter Thirty-fiveThe headlines were magnificent. The Chosen One had bought copies of all the local papers and now, in his sanctuary, as he clipped them with his pinking shears, he softly sang a Christmas carol and read the bold print."Hark the herald angels sing ..."POLICE STYMIED IN CHURCH MURDER"Glory to the newborn King."ROSARY KILLER RESURRECTED?"Peace on earth and mercy mild."COLLEGE COED SERIAL KILLER BAFFLES NOPD"G.o.d and sinner, reconciled ..."ALTAR BOY SLAIN."Again ..." he paused, then sang to a crescendo, "G.o.d and sinner reconciled." He liked that line in particular.The Chosen One smiled at his work as he tacked the banners of his newly found fame to the calendar where his saints had been displayed. St. Joan of Arc, St. Catherine of Alexandria, beautiful little St. Philomena, St. Mary Magdalen ... such lovelies.But the press didn"t understand him, nor did the public know of his work.The police, of course, were idiots even if the press was giving him his due respect. Finally. Yet there had been not one mention of G.o.d"s work, of the mission. Of course they didn"t know. The police were keeping the members of the Fourth Estate sheltered from the real truth with words like "ritualistic slayings," or "brutal murder," so as not to bring out the copycats or those who would claim to have done the deeds for a few minutes of fame. So the press hadn"t been allowed to understand what was his mission ... unless he corrected them. A letter to a newspaper or a call to a radio station ... all risky, but .... perhaps ... He paused as he considered the disc jockey he would call.Dr. Sam on her show Midnight Confessions.Perfect.Yes ... but first things first.He had to capture his next two victims. First St. Bibiana, then St. Lucy. Time was running short and while the police were busy trying to figure out how that miserable altar boy was connected to the other murders, it was time to make his move. He just needed a little help.Humming to himself, he walked down the stairs to the bas.e.m.e.nt. Opening the door his nostrils were immediately burned with the foul stench of the dogs and fecal matter. The animals were quiet now, but as he opened the door and snapped on the red light they sent up a cacophony of howls. Worse yet, the b.i.t.c.h was in heat ... and the male dog was more interested in breaking into her kennel than snarling at the terrified woman backed against the wall.She looked up at him as he approached and then to the weapon swinging from his cincture, the stun gun at odds with the gold-colored cord holding his alb in place. "Would you like to get out of here, my child?" he asked in soft, dulcet tones.She nodded wildly, her round eyes darting from him to the dogs and back to the gun."Well, I think it"s time. I"ve made my point. You will be obedient, now, won"t you?"Again she nodded and he bent down to release her bonds, but as he did, he clipped a collar around her throat, the same collar that surrounded each mutt"s neck. The collars were the kind used in training dogs, each neck band equipped with metal p.r.o.ngs that pressed into the soft skin of the throat. Activated electronically by a remote control device he kept in his deep pockets the collars would sizzle with electricity, shocking the wearer. Should they be wet, from holy water or sweat, the shock was even more severe. With the press of a b.u.t.ton The Chosen One could zap her or the dogs into submission.To prove his point, he withdrew a control and aimed it at her. She withered away, shrinking into the wall, shaking her head violently and making anxious cries beneath her gag. He smiled, a faint erection beginning beneath his robes. "Trust me," he said and pushed the b.u.t.ton. She squeezed her eyes shut and the b.i.t.c.h in heat squealed and yipped as a shock went through her mangy body.He released the b.u.t.ton and the woman opened her eyes in terror. Tears rained from her face and she looked beyond him to the kennels where the female dog, tail between her legs looked confused and whimpered."Now, will you do as I say?" he asked her and there was no hesitation. He saw complete compliance in her eyes. "Good. Come along then, I have a job for you." He released the shackles on her feet, but kept her hands restrained and helping her to her feet, urged her up the stairs. "If you do anything I don"t like, anything at all, I"ll be forced to activate the collar, and ... yes, the stun gun. Remember that? You didn"t like that, did you?She shook her head vigorously as if she remembered all too vividly how he"d approached her just after she"d returned her rental car and before she could make her way to the airport terminal.Dressed in jeans, sweatshirt and jacket, he"d blended in, then taken out the gun and zapped her, catching her before she hit the ground and half dragging her into the car he"d stolen at the campus ... just like before. It had been raining furiously and he"d used an umbrella to shield them not only from the weather but prying eyes as well. She"d only made one cry-the stun gun and his knife had convinced her to remain quiet as she"d roused. Then he"d gagged and cuffed her and brought her here.She was a fine specimen, could probably be offered as a sacrifice. He watched the muscles of her rump-tight and rounded, as she walked up the steps. Again the pleasantly painful erection ... yes, spilling her blood would be a pleasure. He stopped her in the upper hallway before she reached the entrance. No one was allowed into his sanctuary. Just G.o.d."Here we go." He stood her against a curtained wall and took several pictures with his Polaroid. "Now, if you"re good ... very, very good, next time I"ll let you out; I"ll have a more difficult task for you," he said, thinking of her cell phone. "For now, though, you must go back downstairs."She shook her head."It"s only for a little while," he a.s.sured her as the tears ran again. "And then, I"ll get you out of the bas.e.m.e.nt for good. But you have to promise that you"ll help me." She didn"t hesitate, but nodded violently. Her hands were on his sleeves, clutching at his alb, reaching for his chasuble, trying to wind her fingers into its satiny folds. "I understand," he said. "I know this is difficult, but nothing worthwhile comes easily. There must be pain and suffering and sacrifice involved. Now ... off with you." When she started to shake her head he reached into his pocket and brought out his remote control. "Be a good girl," he warned and she turned quickly and on dirty bare feet scrambled down the stairs. He wanted to give her one little shock, to hustle her along, but resisted.Sarah needed to fully comprehend the difference between reward and punishment."... Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned ..."James felt his knees turn to water. It had been over a week since the last time he"d heard this raspy confession. "What is it, my son?" he said, forgetting all the rules, sitting on the edge of the desk in his apartment. His spine was stiff, his heart pounding with dread."It has been a week since my last confession and these are my sins."James braced himself."I have taken the Lord"s name in vain and I have l.u.s.ted in my heart."So far, so good."For your penance say ten Hail Marys and five Our Fathers." James"s throat was dry and his lungs so tight he couldn"t breathe. Surely the penitent had not killed again ... and then he knew."And I broke the commandment again. I took a life."James"s blood was thundering in his ears. "Another one?" Father O"Hara had been interrogated, but set free as he could prove his whereabouts. The scandal had been horrible of course and he was being scrutinized by the press and the parishioners and the clergy... O"Hara"s name would forever be a.s.sociated with the killing though he was innocent of the murder. However, there were other charges that Mickey"s parents" attorney was making, claims of improper touching, sodomy and rape ... and now this ..."Oh, yes ... I found the sinner in the house of G.o.d.""The sinner?" James felt sick inside."The altar boy who desecrated the church," the voice thundered. "The hooligan who stole wine and had the audacity to drink from the chalice, all in the guise of piety. Yes, I spilled his blood, gladly. Let it be a lesson to all those who defy G.o.d, who do not revere His house, who commit sins."The man was mad. He had it all twisted around."Listen, my son," James begged, though he wanted to somehow strangle the man. Give me strength, Lord, please, let me find a way to stop him. Give me strength, Lord, please, let me find a way to stop him. "I, too, have sought G.o.d"s counsel. He has told me that the killings must stop, that it is not His will. No more lives be taken." "I, too, have sought G.o.d"s counsel. He has told me that the killings must stop, that it is not His will. No more lives be taken.""You?" A haughty sneer was evident in the voice. "You have talked to G.o.d?""Yes, many times.""And you heard Him speak?""I know what He wants and this violence is not His will."There was a snort. "The world is a violent place, Father. Haven"t you noticed? And the atrocities committed in the name of religion have been around since the beginning of time.""Then commit no more. Sin no more.""But I, I I have actually spoken to G.o.d and heard His voice and my mission is clear. I am to make a sacrifice to Him. For the martyred saints. To reaffirm their martyrdom." have actually spoken to G.o.d and heard His voice and my mission is clear. I am to make a sacrifice to Him. For the martyred saints. To reaffirm their martyrdom.""What?" James said, his gut clenching. Bentz had been right."You don"t understand, do you? I knew you had not spoken to the Father." And then he went on and on about his mission, about how he would find the perfect person to sacrifice on the feast days, just as Rick Bentz had surmised. He hardly paused for a breath, as if he were glad for a chance to explain himself. His speech pattern was that of a lecturer ... as if he were used to people listening to him, an orator. A priest? A politician? A CEO? A teacher ... the coeds taken from the local campuses ... a scholar?"Have I a penance?" he finally asked."Of course ... of course ... it is the same as before. You are to say the rosary and confess to the police-""I"ll not be judged by mortals! My confession is only to the Father through you."He clicked off and James was left with the receiver to his ear. He dropped it, didn"t realize that the connection wasn"t severed, that the receiver dangled over the edge of the desk.James sank to his knees and prayed harder than he ever had in his life.Bentz taped the entire conversation. He felt some measure of relief that James wasn"t the killer. But hearing the b.a.s.t.a.r.d"s raspy voice, feeling his presence had made Bentz"s skin crawl. He didn"t waste any time, just popped a couple of Rolaids he found in the desk drawer at home, then dialed up his friend with the phone company. Maybe Larry would have some information for him. Maybe he was about to catch the killer. Maybe he"d get lucky."What the f.u.c.k is this?" Brian Thomas asked as he threw open the door to his studio apartment and found two cops on his doorstep. One had a swarthy complexion and had a don"t-f.u.c.k-with-me att.i.tude stamped across his face, the other guy was older, tough-looking but ... oh, s.h.i.t, he recognized Kristi Bentz"s father from a picture he"d seen in her wallet."We"d just like to talk to you," Bentz explained."I haven"t done anything to your daughter.""So you know who I am?" His smile was cold as death."She said you"d be calling." He stepped back and let them into his one room. It was spa.r.s.ely furnished and messy, but he didn"t really give a rat"s a.s.s. The cops couldn"t bust him on anything. The weed he"d smoked last night was all gone, he didn"t do anything stronger, so he was home free. But he was sweating and no doubt both cops, their gazes sc.r.a.ping over his bookcase and ... oh, s.h.i.t ... the bong. He"d left the bong and a six pack of empties by the bed and sure enough Bentz spied it.His lips compressed. "We need to ask you some questions," he said and pointed to a secondhand recliner near the window. "Why don"t you sit down?"Brian was sweating bullets. What did the cops have on him? He"d been through this before, a long time ago, and memories of being arrested, of having his hands yanked hard behind his back as he was cuffed, of the charges and arrest, the hours of interrogation, being fingerprinted and stripped, thrown in a locked cage with the lowlifes of the world ... Now, he gritted his teeth and tried to think. He"d done nothing wrong. They couldn"t prove anything."Kristi said you"d eventually come by, that anyone who dated her was subjected to some kind of interrogation.""Just a few questions," Montoya said. "No big deal, man. You just stay cool and this"ll be over in a few minutes.""Maybe I should call my lawyer.""You need one?" Bentz asked, thick eyebrows lifting over suspicious gray eyes. What a piece of work."I don"t know, do I?""Not if you haven"t done anything wrong," Montoya said and kicked out a kitchen chair. "Sit down. Relax. It"s just a couple of questions."Bulls.h.i.t, Brian thought, but settled into the recliner and wondered if they smelled the wafts of burnt weed still lingering in the air. Bentz didn"t sit down. He also didn"t hide the fact that he didn"t trust Brian. Not one little bit. Obviously he didn"t like the fact that Brian was dating his daughter and for a second Brian thought about all those movies he"d seen, the bad cops who planted evidence, then threatened charges unless they could squeeze a confession from the guy. He swallowed hard. Even if he beat the charges, his career here at the University would be ruined.It would be smarter to cooperate.They asked him a million questions. Some of them had to do with faculty and students, but a lot of the questions surrounded Dr. Franz and his two wives. Brian had been at All Saints as an undergrad at the time and had done some work for the first wife, Dr. Nancoise Franz. They also asked him about women he"d read about in the papers, Leslie Franz, Cathy Anderson and Stephanie Jane Keller-victims of the serial killer. And they"d stared at the two swords he had mounted over his bed, then asked him about weaponry and what he"d done while in the military. He should call a lawyer; it was obvious they thought he might be connected to the killer stalking the college campuses.Or more likely, Bentz had a hard-on for him because he was dating his precious daughter. Didn"t the cops have more important things to do than intimidate innocent people, for Christ"s sake?They couldn"t think he was really involved? That was crazy. He didn"t know those girls.Bentz asked him about the rape charges and about him spending time in the seminary. They even brought up the names of some of the patron saints-now what the f.u.c.k was that all about? Bentz had done enough homework to bring up the fact that before Brian had transferred to All Saints he"d spent his freshman and soph.o.m.ore years at Tulane and studied psych under Dr. Leeds."That guy, he"s a real p.r.i.c.k," Brian said, wiping the sweat from his palms on his jeans. "Stuck on himself. Between him and Dr. Sutter, here, I gave up on psychology, decided to do my doctorate work in philosophy. I came up with a theory that everyone gets interested in psych because they need it themselves. They have problems, go to a shrink, get off on talking about themselves and decide they could make some money at it..." Brian shut up. Why rattle on? Years ago, when there had been all that trouble with the rape charges his lawyer had told him to answer precisely, give no more information than what was asked.The cops left about an hour and a half after they"d arrived, thank G.o.d. Brian walked to the window and looked through the grimy panes and checked out the parking lot. Within minutes they climbed into a Jeep with Bentz at the wheel. What the h.e.l.l were they doing all the way up here? How serious were they to be talking to him? An uneasy feeling crawled across his skin.He thought about calling Kristi and reading her the riot act, but decided against it. But seeing her tonight would be out. Bentz would probably drop by and visit his daughter and he was the last person Brian wanted to run into again.No, he needed time to think. What the h.e.l.l was he doing with a cop"s daughter anyway?Brian walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. He was just twisting off the top when the doorbell rang again. s.h.i.t. Not the cops again. Please! He took a long swallow and walked to the window. The Jeep was gone. Good.So who was ringing his door? Grinning, he thought he knew the answer.The edge from the detectives" visit had worn off. He"d cooled it a little with Kristi since she"d returned from visiting her d.i.c.k of an old man at Thanksgiving. Not because Brian didn"t want to see her, but because he thought playing a little hard to get wouldn"t be such a bad idea. He sensed she liked a challenge, so he was going to give her one. Maybe then he"d be able to score. How would the old man like that? Huh?The bell rang again and he yelled, "Coming!" then under his breath, "Keep your panties on." Running fingers through his hair, he walked to the door and pulled it open. The smile plastered onto his face slid away when he recognized the guy standing in the hallway. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?" he demanded a second before he saw the stun gun. "Hey-wait!"But it was too late. He felt the blast, fell backward and watched his beer fall to the floor."Is he a suspect, Dad? Are you gonna arrest him?" Kristi demanded, ignoring the hot dog and c.o.ke her dad had bought her. He and Montoya had taken her to a hasty dinner in a little hamburger shack just off campus and he"d dropped the bomb-admitted that he"d been talking to Brian. A few other students were hanging out at the counter and she hid her head, didn"t want to be seen with her dad when he was on duty."Let"s just say he"s a "person of interest." " Her father was seated across the table with its fake wood top. Bentz was all business." "Person of interest." What the h.e.l.l does that mean?""That I"m going to be watching him.""No." She wanted to shake some sense into her old man. "Are you trying to ruin my life? Because you are!" She shot a glance at Montoya. "He"s just ha.s.sling Brian because I"ve been seeing him, right?""No. The dude could be bad." Montoya wasn"t his usual self. Seemed harder, angry. Like the case was getting to him, too."What happened to "innocent until proven guilty?" Huh? Isn"t that what this country is all about. Jesus, Dad, give me some breathing room, okay?""This guy is dangerous.""The killer is dangerous, Dad. Not Brian. I know know him. He"s not a killer." him. He"s not a killer.""Bull. I want you to come home with me. Now." Bentz rose to his full height. "It"s not safe here.""For who? Everyone? Or just me? Are you going to send everyone on campus home just because you think one of the T.A.s might know something about the murderers?"Bentz"s jaw grew tight. "No, I guess I can"t do that, but I can arrest him. There"s enough circ.u.mstantial evidence to hold him for a while," he said, knowing that he was stretching the truth. He didn"t have anything concrete. Just a gut feeling. And the p.r.i.c.k was seeing his daughter. But he had seen the bong and the empties in his apartment. He could bust the guy for drugs, and if he had any underage students in his apartment, for serving alcohol. "Either you come home with me, or I arrest him. What"s it gonna be?""You"re serious.""d.a.m.ned straight.""This is so outrageous. You"d embarra.s.s me?""In a heartbeat if I thought it would keep you alive," he said.Her chin shivered, then she clamped her jaw tight. "If you do this, I will never, never never forgive you." forgive you."He checked his watch. "You"re got one hour to turn in your papers and pack. You can drive up here every day to attend your cla.s.ses. A bodyguard will come with you."" Like h.e.l.l. I"m eighteen. You can"t force me-"The look in his eyes made her clamp her mouth shut. She was supposed to meet Brian at the library in half an hour.Then she could explain everything, but if she capitulated all of a sudden her dad would be suspicious. "So my choice is to leave school or be humiliated to death. Either way Brian will hate me.""You"ll get over it.""You can really be a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, you know that, don"t you?"He checked his watch. "You"ve got fifty-eight minutes."Olivia rang up the sale, quickly wrapped tissue paper around the cranberry-scented candles and handed the bag to a hefty woman with tight gray curls who smiled and wished her a "Merry Christmas." She winked as she tucked her bag under her arm. "Less than a month away, you know. Tomorrow"s the first of December.""That it is, Merry Christmas to you, too." The woman bustled out of the store, jangling the jingle bells that hung from a bright red bow that Tawilda had tacked over the door.Olivia checked her watch ... only an hour until the shop closed. She planned to spend a couple hours in the library on campus and then go home and soak in a long bath. She didn"t relish the thought of Christmas; this year would be the first without Grannie Gin and she was here in Louisiana, alone, instead of in Tucson where she"d made friends.Speaking of which, she was getting irritated with Sarah. It wasn"t unusual not to hear from her friend for a week or two, but it wasn"t Sarah"s style not to call and tell her she"d made it home safely, that she"d really enjoyed staying with Olivia, or that she really loved Leo and couldn"t go through with the divorce. Olivia had called her friend twice, leaving messages each time.Maybe Sarah was overwhelmed. It could be that the thought of the impending divorce coupled with the Christmas season was too much for her.And what about you? What are you going to do for Christmas? Who are you going to spend it with?Rick Bentz? Not hardly. Their conversations had been all business and she was still angry with him for not telling her about Father James McClaren.What about Father James? Oh, G.o.d, she didn"t want to think about that. She"d nearly made love to him, barely a week after she"d done the same thing with his half brother. No, she was better off without a man in her life. She could make it on her own. In fact, she"d probably need years of therapy after the last two men in her life. Bentz had been bad enough, but then to nearly sleep with a priest. How desperate had she been? James McClaren was a good, kind man and she"d almost led him astray ... no, she wouldn"t even go there.Thank G.o.d they"d stopped when they had, that they"d realized before it was too late that they"d come close to making a mistake that would have ruined their lives.The phone rang just as another customer walked through the door, jangling the jingle bells. "The Third Eye," Olivia said, picking up the phone."Hi, Livvie, did you have a nice Thanksgiving?" Bernadette asked."Yeah, I did," Olivia said automatically and tried to keep her cool. He mother was reaching out to her. That was good. Just don"t let her get to you. Just don"t let her get to you. "My friend Sarah, from Tucson, was with me." "My friend Sarah, from Tucson, was with me.""Good.""And you?""It was all right ... well, no, it wasn"t. Jeb and I are splitting up. I decided you were right. I don"t need this. I went to San Antonio, spent a weekend alone, and sorted it all out. I"d already filed papers a while ago, but the divorce was on hold, now ... I don"t think I"ll ever marry again."Olivia almost laughed. "I think you"re the marrying y kind." As opposed to me, As opposed to me, she added silently. "So, you"re okay with the divorce?" she added silently. "So, you"re okay with the divorce?""Yes," Bernadette said firmly. "And I"m hoping that you and me, we can patch things up. I haven"t been a great mother, I know that, but maybe now that you"re grown we could be friends or something." Olivia was stunned. This was her mother talking? Self-centered Bernadette?"That would be nice ..." Olivia said then saw one of the women who had entered the store, a short, slim woman in a navy jacket, pocket a gla.s.s paperweight. "Uh ... I"ve got to run, Mom.""Before you go-"The shoplifter looked over her shoulder as she reached for another item, a crystal reindeer ornament, then, spying Olivia watching her, casually looked over the item and replaced it. Olivia was only half-listening to her mother. "The real reason I called is that I remembered a name a.s.sociated with the adoption of my son.""What?" Olivia asked. Now her attention was dragged from the shoplifter."It was Thomas.""Thomas?""Yes, I"m sure of it. My son was adopted by a couple named Thomas.""Thomas who?""I think it was their last name ... but maybe I"m mistaken ..." Bernadette faltered. "I overheard your grandmother talking once and she said something about the Thomases, I think. I hope this helps.""It does, Mom, thanks," Olivia said, her heart racing as the shoplifter edged toward the door. "Just a minute," she called to the woman and dropped the receiver. "I think you may have taken some merchandise-" The woman was out of the door in a heartbeat. Olivia gave chase, but as soon as she stepped out of the store, she lost the thief in the crowd. It was dark and raining and in her navy jacket she blended into the jostling crowd. Christmas lights illuminated Jackson Square but Olivia didn"t feel the spirit. "Great, "Olivia muttered, unable to leave the shop alone. Tawilda wasn"t due back from her dinner for another fifteen minutes.Olivia started into the store but caught her reflection in the window panes. Her hair was windblown and her face was pale. Taking a step toward the doorway, for the first time in a week, she sensed him ... saw a quicksilver image behind her own.No.The people on the street walking by shrank, the noise of the street seemed to fade and her head began to ache. He was there, staring back at her-blue eyes and dark hair, angular features, not unlike her own, but not Father James no .... and ... then he turned his vision to another spot ... as if someone had called his name. He focused on his quarry and Olivia saw the woman"s face. The dull ache behind Olivia"s eyes banged painfully. A young girl with long auburn hair and an att.i.tude of confidence ... a face Olivia had seen before, not in person, but framed as it was tonight, in a bifold picture sitting squarely in the middle of Detective Rick Bentz"s desk.
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
Chapter 136
Chapter 137
Chapter 138
Chapter 139
Chapter 140
Chapter 141
Chapter 142
Chapter 143
Chapter 144
Chapter 145
Chapter 146
Chapter 147
Chapter 148
Chapter 149
Chapter 150
Chapter 151
Chapter 152
Chapter 153
Chapter 154
Chapter 155
Chapter 156
Chapter 157
Chapter 158
Chapter 159
Chapter 160
Chapter 161
Chapter 162
Chapter 163
Chapter 164
Chapter 165
Chapter 166
Chapter 167
Chapter 168
Chapter 169
Chapter 170
Chapter 171
Chapter 172
Chapter 173
Chapter 174
Chapter 175
Chapter 176
Chapter 177
Chapter 178
Chapter 179
Chapter 180
Chapter 181
Chapter 182
Chapter 183
Chapter 184
Chapter 185
Chapter 186
Chapter 187
Chapter 188
Chapter 189
Chapter 190
Chapter 191
Chapter 192
Chapter 193
Chapter 194
Chapter 195
Chapter 196
Chapter 197
Chapter 198
Chapter 199
Chapter 200
Chapter 201
Chapter 202
Chapter 203
Chapter 204
Chapter 205
Chapter 206
Chapter 207
Chapter 208
Chapter 209
Chapter 210
Chapter 211
Chapter 212
Chapter 213
Chapter 214
Chapter 215
Chapter 216
Chapter 217
Chapter 218
Chapter 219
Chapter 220
Chapter 221
Chapter 222
Chapter 223
Chapter 224
Chapter 225
Chapter 226
Chapter 227
Chapter 228
Chapter 229
Chapter 230
Chapter 231
Chapter 232
Chapter 233
Chapter 234
Chapter 235
Chapter 236
Chapter 237
Chapter 238
Chapter 239
Chapter 240
Chapter 241
Chapter 242
Chapter 243
Chapter 244
Chapter 245
Chapter 246
Chapter 247
Chapter 248
Chapter 249
Chapter 250
Chapter 251
Chapter 252
Chapter 253
Chapter 254
Chapter 255
Chapter 256
Chapter 257
Chapter 258
Chapter 259
Chapter 260
Chapter 261
Chapter 262
Chapter 263
Chapter 264
Chapter 265
Chapter 266
Chapter 267
Chapter 268
Chapter 269
Chapter 270
Chapter 271
Chapter 272
Chapter 273
Chapter 274