Only Jed Braden had been on the outside, Christina thought. A year older than Michael, two years older than Dan. And somehow different, set apart. Maybe it had been his determination to go into the service. Not because he longed to go to war, but because he wanted the benefits to get through college. Hed been gone a lot once he joined up, and then hed gotten married in a beautiful ceremony to the gorgeous, gentle Margaritte. Hed drawn even further away from them after that, shouldering increasing responsibility by becoming a cop and then a detective.
And then a widower and famous but semireclusive writer.
She shook off thoughts of Jed. It felt slightly uncomfortable somehow, seeing him again.
Maybe because they seemed to meet all too frequently at funerals.
Hey, she said cheerfully, realizing that her cousins were staring at her, waiting for her to speak. She offered a huge smile. I admit I hadnt really planned to entertain strangers tonight, but you guys could have brought the current loves of your lives, Christina told them.
I have no love in my life, Dan said with a feigned mourning note in his voice.
I want no love in my life, Mike said, and his tone was sharper. Hed been married once, and his divorce hadnt been a pleasant one, though he had dated since.
Well, Tony from next door is coming, and hes bringing Ilona, the girl we met at the funeral. They live together, Christina told them. So come on. The menus barbecue and beer. Ill get the plates out as soon as I get some of the boxes off the chairs so we can use the parlor.
Ill help, Ana said as they all walked deeper into the house. Suddenly she let out an exclamation as she pulled something out of a box. Look, its a Ouija board.
I never throw anything away, Christina admitted sheepishly.
Why would you even consider throwing this away? Ana demanded. Picking up the Ouija board, she walked over and sat in a wing chair and stared at it raptly. Oh, my God, remember? We used to have so much fun with this thing.
Christina found herself feeling strangely irritated, wishing shed thought to stick the damn thing somewhere out of sight, or, that shed gotten rid of it altogether.
She groaned aloud. We had fun because we were kids who knew the answers we wanted to hear, so we pushed it around to get them, she said.
Weve got to play with this sucker again, Ana said, entranced, and obviously unaware that Christina was nowhere near as anxious as she was to dredge up past fun and games. Dont you remember? We had so much fun. Sometimes youd wrap a towel around your head like a turban and call yourself Madame Zee, and wed have a séance. It was so much fun. But this guy She patted the Ouija board affectionately. We asked it so many questions. It was great. We have to play with it again.
Why? I know what Im going to be when I grow up, Christina said. And we are all grown up, in case you havent noticed.
Supposedly, Mike threw in skeptically.
Grown upnot dead, Ana said with mock impatience. Lets ask it something.
I dont want any answers to any questionsprophecies can be self-fulfilling, Christina said.
Maybe you dont want any answers, Dan said. But I want to know if Im going to have to be a fluffy all my life.
Fluffy? Ana giggled. Dont you mean fluffer? And dont you have to be a girl for that? Or maybe not, these days.
Cute, shorty, very cute, Dan said dryly.
A lot of the entertainers at the parks call playing a character being a fluffy, Christina explained, unable to hide a smile. Dan is in the running to play Zeus in a new show, but in the meantime
In the meantime, Im Raccoon Ralph, Dan said.
Raccoon Ralph? Ana said, and burst into gales of laughter.
If we were still kids, Id be bopping you on the head right now, Dan said.
Thank God were not kids, then, Ana said.
Enough of that, Mike said, suddenly serious. You two need to be careful, he said.
Were just teasing each other, Ana told him, frowning.
Mike shook his head impatiently. I wasnt talking about you and Dan. Im talking about you and Christie. I was watching the news earlier, he said. They were warning women to be careful. Theres been a murder.
A murder? Christina asked.
Are you talking about the woman they found along the highway? Ana asked.
Mike nodded. You must have heard about it, even down in Miami, he said to Christina.
I did. But it was just one woman, right? Christina asked.
Yeah, but its got a lot of people around here worried. The killer is a copycat of the Interstate Killer, Mike told them.
I saw it on the news earlier, too, Ana said. It sounded like they dont know if they really got the right guy to begin with, right?
I dont think anyone is admitting that yet, Mike said.
Can it be the same guy? Christina asked. I mean, Im not an expert, but I always thought that a killer like that escalated until he was killed or caught and locked away. Would a serial killer take a break that long? She felt vaguely uneasy. She knew that the so-called Interstate Killer had plagued the central part of the state a dozen years ago. She also knew that he had supposedly been killed.
And buried.
Maybe he didnt take a break, Dan theorized aloud. Maybe he was gonetraveling from state to state.
Possibly. They say that killers often keep on the move. Thank God for computers. Theyve made a big difference, Mike said.
Jed will know more about it, Ana said confidently.
Thats right. He wrote a book about the killings, Dan said.
Jed wrote a novel, Ana said. Based loosely on real events.
Michael was quiet, frowning at Christina.
What? she demanded.
He shook his head, then pointed a finger at her. Sherri Mason, the woman who was killed, was five feet eight inches tall, about one hundred and thirty pounds. She had blue eyesand long red hair.
They all stood in silence for a long moment.
Wow. Thanks a lot for that, Christina said at last.
Ana slipped a supportive arm around her friends waist. We can handle ourselves. Its the unwary who usually wind up in trouble.
Thats not the point, Michael said, and took a deep breath. Christie, you have to be careful. The last victims, twelve years agothey were all tall. And all had light eyes and
And long red hair, Dan breathed softly.
Just like Sherri Mason, Mike said. Who was killed just the same way. As if shed been killed bya ghost.
2
Jed should have headed straight over to Christinas house, and in fact he had meant to.
But he didnt.
For some reason he found himself traveling down the road that led to one of the largest local cemeteries.
Beau Kidd had been laid to rest there. His parents and his sister, furious that Beau had been labeled a killer without a trial, grieving his death, had ordered a fine tombstone for him. A glorious angel in marble rested atop it, kneeling down in prayer.
It was dusk when he arrived, and the gates were closed, but the cemetery was one of the oldest in the area. Broken tombstones belonging to those who had served in the United States military as far back as the Seminole Wars could be found there. No one had ever spent the money for a high fence, so he was easily able to hop the low wall and enter. He knew this cemetery well. Too well, he thought.
It was dusk when he arrived, and the gates were closed, but the cemetery was one of the oldest in the area. Broken tombstones belonging to those who had served in the United States military as far back as the Seminole Wars could be found there. No one had ever spent the money for a high fence, so he was easily able to hop the low wall and enter. He knew this cemetery well. Too well, he thought.
Margaritte was buried here.
But he hadnt come to mourn at her grave or feel sorry for himself. Not tonight.
He was losing it, he thought. Visiting a cemetery, as if Beau Kidd could talk to him from the grave and offer him help.
No, he told himself. He had simply decided to check on the monument, that was all. In the years after the killings and Kidds own death, the tombstone had been vandalized several times. Then Beau Kidds mother had appeared on television and made such a tearful plea to be let alone that the vandalism had stopped. No requests by law enforcement or even arrests could have put an end to the graffiti and damage the way her softly sobbed plea had done.
He could see the angel as he headed down the path. What surprised him was that he wasnt the only one who had come to check on Beau Kidds grave tonight.
There was a young woman standing there. He frowned, for a moment thinking it might be Christina Hardy. This woman, too, had long red hair, and she was tall, slim and shapely, with elegantly straight posture.
But when she turned as Jed approached, he saw that though she was attractive, her features were quite different from Christinas. For one thing, her eyes were a pale yellow-green color, not a brilliant blue.
He didnt recognize her, but she obviously recognized him.
What are you doing here? she snapped.
Do I know you? he asked bluntly.
Katherine Kidd, Beaus sister, she said.
Weve never met.
No? Sorry, but I know who you are. Youre an opportunist. You wrote a book about my brother. As if the events werent painful enough.
I wrote a work of fiction, he said. Why defend himself? He should just let her lambaste him. That might work out better for both of them.
Why are you here? Do you want to hammer a stake into my brothers heart? Do you think hes alive and killing again?
Im sorry. Ill leave.
He turned to go.
If youre lost, your wifes grave is nowhere near here, she called after him.
He squared his shoulders and kept walking.
Wait!
He was startled when she ran after him. Her eyes were troubled when she awkwardly touched his arm to get him to turn around. Why are you here? she demanded.
He hesitated. I dont know, exactly. I guessI wanted to think. Honestly, I dont know.
Beau was never the killer, she said.
How can you be so certain? he asked.
He was my brother.
He let out a soft sigh. You do know that every homicidal maniac is some mothers son?
I know you investigated when you wrote your book. I know you were a cop. And I know you have a license now as a private investigator. You came here because youre feeling guilty for what you did to my brothers reputation. You want absolution? Fine. Prove thats not just a copycat out there. Prove Beau was innocent.
He stared at her, unable to think of anything to say.
Ill pay you, she offered suddenly.
He shook his head. No. No, you wont pay me.
You dont really believe in Beaus innocence, do you? Not even now, with the evidence lying in the morgue, she said.
I dont know what I believe right now, he told her honestly.
She shook her head. Ive read every word let out by the police, the newspapers, every single source. No copycat could be so exact.
I dont know yet just how exact he was, he said.
I do. And I know that Beau wasnt a killer, no matter how guilty he looked. And youyou used him.
I used a story, a real-life story, he said quietly. And Im going to investigate, but no one owes me anything. I guess thats why I was here tonight. This one is between the two of us, Beau and me, he told her.
He nodded and walked away again. When he looked back, she was standing where he had left her, looking bereft and alone.
Ill keep you informedwhen I can prove something, he told her.
He thought that she smiled as she lifted a hand to wave goodbye.
There was a low ground fog beginning to rise. Looking up, he saw that the moon was full. Odd night. Most of the time around here, the fog came in the early morning. Between the moon and the fog, the cemetery seemed to be bathed in some kind of eerie glow.
As he headed to his car, he thought about Sherri Mason, lying on the autopsy table. Sherritall, slim, with long red hair.
Before he knew it, he was heading back into the cemetery. Katherine! he shouted, running.
She was standing by her brothers monument again. She looked up, startled.
You need to get out of here, he told her. She stared at him blankly. Its dark, and theres a killer loose. Wheres your car?
Along the street, just past the gate.
Ill see you to it.
All right. She sounded unconvinced, but she didnt argue.
He walked her to the Honda parked by the curb. She must have arrived after the cemetery had officially closed, as well. She slid behind the drivers seat and lowered the window. He ducked down to talk to her, but before he could speak, she said, I know, long red hair. Ill be careful, I promise.
Thanks.
Im twenty-four, but I still live with my folks. Ill be okay.
He nodded as she turned her key in the ignition, and he watched the Hondas lights disappear into the fog.
He stood there for a long moment, feeling a strange sensation of dread grip his spine like an iron claw. Beautiful women with long red hair.
Christina Hardy fell into that category, as well.
He had lost her tonight, thanks to the cop-turned-writer.
But he would prevail. He would behave normally. He was a special person, unique; amazing things went on in his mind. He could walk, talk, smile and act completely normal, and all the while he would be planning his next kill.
But there had been an almost frightening moment when he had felt as if he might combust, the opportunity had been so good.
She had been there, so appetizing.
He made himself breathe, told himself to function. There was his world, his inner world, and then there was the world beyond. Sometimes he could combine them, but it was over now.
Still, there had been those moments when he had almost been able to taste and feel the results of his brilliance. He had come here tonight by happenstance, unable to resist a visit to the grave of the man who had taken the blame for everything he himself had done all those years ago. And thento see Kidds sister
It was too good.
She was such a pretty thing. All that lovely hair
Then hed shown up.
Jed Braden was big and broad-shouldered, clearly capable of holding his own in a fight.
But that didnt matter. The point lay in his own brilliance, not in something as crass as a physical fight. He loved watching the dumb fucks chase their tails while he went gleefully about his business.