“He may not be trying to communicate with you at all, Detective Kelton.” Garrett’s voice sounded deeply troubled. “It’s entirely possible the killer is leaving these messages for himself.”

* * *

“How’d it go at the morgue?” Sean asked Danny, who had beat him back to the office.

“We got a positive ID, so at least now we can start checking for a connection between Amber Gleason and Holly Jessup.”

“Well, that’s progress. Don’t you want to know how it went with the shrink?”

“Yeah, but I need to tell you something first.”

For the first time, Sean noticed Danny’s worried expression. “What’s going on?”

“Do you know a guy named Clovis Tenney?”

“He’s married to a friend of Cat’s. Why?”

“Morales says he called here while you were out. He was pretty anxious to talk to you. He says his wife’s gone missing. Says she went out on Saturday night and he hasn’t seen her since.”

“Did he file a missing persons?”

Danny nodded. “A patrol officer located her car parked on a side street just off North Rampart.” He handed Sean a piece of paper with the address. “That’s a bad location these days.”

“Any sign of foul play?”

“One of the officers noticed a small amount of blood on the driver’s side door.” Danny paused. “That’s not all. Tenney says he thinks Cat was with his wife on Saturday night.”

* * *

Sean stood on the street and watched as the crime-scene unit went over the car. Once they were finished, a crowbar was used to pop open the trunk, but nothing was found inside. Except for the blood on the door, the car appeared to be clean.

But that spot of blood worried Sean a great deal, as did the location of the car—less than a block from Sarah’s house. He remembered what Danny had told him the other day about Cat’s intention to confront Sarah and he was starting to get worried.

Sean had been at Sarah’s house on Saturday night. If Cat had seen him there, she would have probably jumped to the wrong conclusion. And it was very possible she’d showed up at Sarah’s door to have it out with her before Sarah left for Arkansas. If that were the case, Sarah might well have been the last one to see Cat.

While he waited for the car to be searched, Sean called Sarah’s cell phone and left a message when she didn’t answer. He had a feeling, though, that voice mail from him would go unopened.

He called anyone else he could think of who might know of Cat’s whereabouts. One of her friends had seen her with Ginette early Saturday evening, so it seemed that Clovis Tenney was right. The two women had been together. And now they were both missing.

After the wrecker hauled the car to the impound and the scene was cleared, Sean walked up the street to Sarah’s house. He still had his key and he let himself in.

Standing just inside the door, he glanced around. He didn’t know what he expected to find. It was entirely possible that Cat and Ginette had gone off with someone else. They both loved Biloxi. For all he knew, they could be having a high old time in one of the casinos. Danny was right. This was New Orleans. Erratic and impulsive behavior was not only expected, but encouraged, and Sean knew better than to jump to any conclusions.

But that spot of blood on the car door... He didn’t want to be married to Cat, but he sure as hell didn’t want anything to happen to her.

He had no right entering Sarah’s house without her permission, but she was miles away, refusing to take his calls, and time was crucial. In missing-person cases, minutes—let alone hours—could make all the difference, and he needed to know if Cat had been there.

Slowly, he walked from room to room until the only place he hadn’t searched was the bedroom. His skin prickled as he opened the door and looked inside.

He’d shared this room and that bed with Sarah for over two years. He knew the space like the back of his hand. Every corner, every crevice. He had no reason to suddenly feel so unnerved. No reason to feel the need to draw his gun before pulling back the closet door.

Something moved inside, and Sean jumped back, then laughed nervously when he realized he’d spotted himself in the mirror.

No one was there.

The house was empty, and he could find no sign that Cat had ever been there. Yet Sean knew something was wrong. Something kept tugging at him.

Then it came to him. The room had recently been cleaned. The air smelled faintly of lemon oil and ammonia. And now, as he glanced around, he realized the space was spotless. Sarah was neat, but she wasn’t anal about it. She stacked clothes on the dresser, draped her robe over the back of a chair. Had books lying around everywhere.

Nothing was out of place.

Even the bed was painstakingly made up with fresh linens, but the comforter was missing.

Something else was missing, too. He just couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

He walked over to the mirror. Spotless.

Glanced down at the dresser. Spotless.

As he moved toward the bed, something crunched beneath his shoe. Kneeling, he pulled on a pair of latex gloves, then picked up a glittering piece of glass and held it up to the light.

Traces of what looked like blood clung to the creases of the cut crystal.

Chapter 24

Sarah was having a second cup of coffee the next morning when she looked out and saw a squad car pull into the drive. She watched as Lukas Clay got out and strode up the walkway. A moment later, the doorbell rang.

“This is a surprise,” she said when she opened the door. “I’d planned to call you later to set up a time when I could come in and look at those files.”

“That may have to wait.” He shifted nervously and cleared his throat. “I have something I need to tell you. I’m afraid it’s bad news.”

“Maybe you’d better come in then.” Sarah stepped back so he could enter, and then closed the door behind him. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, but...your father is dead.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “When?”

“Early this morning. The nurse went in to give him a shot and she found him.”

“He must have died in his sleep then.” Sarah supposed that was the best way to go. And he’d told her on Sunday that he was ready. That he didn’t want to linger. So this was for the best.

But Lukas was staring down at her strangely. “Your father didn’t die in his sleep, Sarah. He was murdered.”

She felt her face drain of color. “Murdered? My God. Are you sure? I mean...of course, you’re sure. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. It’s just...I can’t believe it.”

“Maybe we should go in and sit down,” Lukas said gently. He took her elbow and guided her into the living room. She dropped to the sofa, her legs suddenly too shaky to support her. Lukas sat down beside her.

“I don’t understand.” She turned and searched his face. “Why would someone murder him? He was terminal. Everyone knew he didn’t have much time left. Is it possible someone was trying to spare him?”

“It wasn’t a mercy killing, if that’s what you mean.”

“How do you know?”

He still had that strange look in his eyes. “There’s no easy way to say this. Your father’s throat was cut.”

Sarah felt as if she’d been body-slammed against the floor. Everything inside her went still, and for a moment, she completely lost her breath.

She must have heard wrong, Sarah thought in a daze. Because the idea of someone stealing into her father’s room while he lay weak and helpless...putting a knife to his throat...

“Oh, God.” She pressed a hand to her mouth as a wave of nausea rolled over her.

“I know this is a shock,” he said kindly. “But I have to ask you some questions. Just routine. We can talk on the way to the hospital if you like.”

She nodded. “Would you mind giving me a minute?”

Rising, she hurried from the room before he could answer. Closing the bathroom door, she bent over the sink and splashed cold water on her face. Then she leaned against the counter and stared at her pale face in the mirror. Her father was dead. Murdered. His throat slashed.

Someone had robbed him of his final hours in the same gruesome manner that Rachel’s life had been snuffed. The act was not just senseless, it seemed truly evil to Sarah.

Unless...

She squeezed her eyes closed.

What if her recent suspicions about her father were true? What if he really had abused Rachel? Did that mean he got what he deserved?

That judgment wasn’t hers to make, Sarah thought weakly. Nor had it been the killer’s.

Esme... I have to call Esme.

No, that could wait. She didn’t want to break the news over the phone, and right now, she had to go to the hospital. There were arrangements to be made. Questions to be answered.

If he’d hurt Rachel all those years...

Don’t think about that now. Just get through the next few hours.

But if he had hurt Rachel...

Something glimmered in Sarah’s eyes that she hardly recognized, and she quickly turned away from her reflection. Drying her hands and face, she went back out to join Lukas. He helped her on with her coat, and they walked out to his car together. Sarah’s movements were zombielike, and she knew reality hadn’t set in yet. That would come later, when she was alone with too much time to think. Too much time to ponder the odds of her father and sister dying in the same horrendous fashion.

“Do you know of anyone who would want your father dead?” Lukas asked.

He was wearing the dark glasses again. Sarah couldn’t see his eyes when he glanced at her. She couldn’t tell at all what he was thinking.

Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her middle and shook her head.

“Do you know if he’d ever been threatened, maybe by someone he sent up?”

“No, but I didn’t come home much after my mother died. My father and I didn’t keep in touch.”

“So what brought you back now?” Lukas asked.

Sarah stared out the window. “I heard he was dying. I wanted to make peace before it was too late.”

“That’s not the only reason, is it?”

She turned with a frown.

“You said you wanted to make sense of your sister’s murder. You wanted to put all the pieces together.” Slowly he turned to face her. “Maybe you already have.”

Something in his voice sent a shiver up Sarah’s spine. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“When was the last time you saw your father?”

“Sunday afternoon. I’m not sure of the time.”

“Did any of the pieces fall together during the course of that visit?”

Sarah was starting to get seriously worried. “I still don’t know what you’re getting at,” she said, although she had a bad feeling that she did.

“Someone reported hearing loud voices coming from your father’s room. They said it sounded like an argument.”

“My father was easily upset. Especially when he talked about my mother and sister.”

Lukas was staring at her again. Sarah could feel the intensity of his eyes through the dark lenses. “I have one more question,” he said. “If I don’t ask it, you can bet that the county sheriff will.”

“What is it?”

“Are you the primary heir of James DeLaune’s estate?”

And just like that, reality came crashing in on Sarah. A cold, terrifying reality. “You can’t think I did this! What would be my motive? Even if my father left everything to me, and I very much doubt that he did, he only had a short while to live. Why would I need to kill him?”

“I don’t know, Sarah. Why would anyone kill a dying man?”

She thought about that question all the way to the hospital and all during the long hours that followed. As her father’s apparent heir, she would naturally be the logical suspect. But as she’d pointed out to Lukas, if she’d wanted the money, all she had to do was wait for her father to die. Why take the chance on losing everything?

Unless money wasn’t the motive at all.

And for Sarah, it wouldn’t be. The accusations her father had leveled at her about Rachel’s murder were far more damning. If anyone had overheard his allegations, they might well conclude that Sarah had a very powerful reason for bringing about her father’s premature demise.

And the possibility that someone had overheard those accusations scared Sarah to death.

She wanted more than anything to go back to New Orleans and forget that any of this had ever happened. She thought about what Curtis had said on Sunday, how one moment could change history, one decision could change the course of a person’s whole life.