Harte smiled. "It's just a hunch."
"Tony's hunches," Bishop said neutrally, "are generally pretty reliable."
Alex looked from one to the other, then shook his head. "What I don't get is that there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to how he's picking them. The victims have nothing in common."
"Except that all three were teenagers," Miranda said.
Bishop rose and went to the bulletin board, where he studied the reports and photos.
Miranda watched him for a moment, then turned back to Edwards. "You went over the postmortem on Kerry Ingram?"
Edwards nodded. "Peter was quite thorough, and I agree with his conclusions. She was repeatedly strangled to the point of unconsciousness and then allowed or made to revive, and she was beaten — though with a fist, I believe, and certainly not with the force used on the Grainger girl. A blow to the head finally killed her — a single very powerful blow."
Musing aloud, Harte said, "The first victim stands out because he was male, but Lynet Grainger is the one who really stands out in my mind — because of the way he treated her. I say he knew her, and possibly very well."
Alex sent Miranda a rueful glance, then said to the agent, "Trouble is, most every single adult male in town knew Lynet, if only by association with her mother. Teresa Grainger drinks too much and likes to party — and she isn't real particular who she parties with. To say that she dates a lot is definitely an understatement. And she was in the habit of bringing her dates home for the night. In that kind of environment, Lynet could have gone either way, I guess, but she was apparently pretty straightlaced. Didn't drink, didn't smoke or do drugs, didn't screw around — in fact, I heard it said she was proud of being a virgin."
"She died a virgin," Dr. Edwards said.
"So did Kerry Ingram," Miranda said slowly. "Could that be something?"
"If it were just girls, I'd say maybe," Harte said. "Could be some kind of obsession about sexual purity. But factoring in the male victim makes that less likely. I suppose the killer could be bisexual, attracted to both, but the Ramsay boy—"
"Seems to have led a very active sex life for a boy his age," Miranda finished dryly.
"According to your report." Harte nodded. "So the idea of the killer trying to preserve purity is out, unless he killed the boy for an entirely different reason."
"He did." Bishop spoke finally, turning toward them. "He wasn't tempted by the Ingram girl. Her body was still childlike, undeveloped. He could take his time with her, enjoy what he was doing without the distraction of being attracted to her. But Lynet Grainger tempted him. He wanted her, and his own need frightened him. That's why he killed her so quickly. I think . . . Lynet was a mistake. I think he grabbed her on impulse, maybe just because the opportunity was there, and once he had her he knew he had to go through with it, had to kill her. But he wanted to do other things to her as well, so he drugged her to make sure she couldn't speak to him, and covered her face so that wouldn't tempt him either. The tampon — Sharon, was it inserted postmortem?"
"Hard to say for certain, but I'd guess he did that while she was still alive."
Bishop nodded. "Maybe as soon as he stripped her. Her body tempted him, and he had to do something to prevent himself from giving in to the temptation. Inserting the tampon not only effectively closed her sexual passage, it was also an act of penetration that probably took the edge off his need."
"Why did he take her eyes?" Miranda asked. "Because she knew him?"
Bishop shook his head. "Because she had seen what he did to her, or he thought she had. Maybe her eyes partially opened at some point, and he thought she was looking at him. He took her eyes because . . . they had seen him tempted by her. They had seen his shame."
Alex was staring at Bishop in unconscious fascination. "You say he killed Adam Ramsay for a different reason. What?"
"He needed something from him."
"Other than his blood?"
"Yes."
"And you know this — how?" It wasn't quite a challenge.
Bishop glanced over his shoulder at the pictures behind him, then smiled at Alex. "Call it a hunch."
"A hunch? You wouldn't happen to have anything solid to back that up, would you?"
Bishop's smile remained, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "One or two things, Deputy. People always betray who they are, what their lives are like, and what their motives are, however unconsciously or accidentally. Little things, mostly. For instance, the way you tie your running shoes tells me that you run daily, that you're committed to it. The way you hold that pencil between your fingers tells me you're an ex-smoker, and I know from the way you're sitting that you pulled a muscle in your back fairly recently."
He did not, Miranda noted, quite explain what "signs" had led him to deduce that their killer had wanted something of Adam Ramsay. But the performance had the desired effect of distracting Alex from wondering about it. Not quite under his breath, Alex muttered, "You must be loads of fun at parties."
Miranda felt a flicker of reluctant, rueful amusement, and when she looked at Bishop she saw the same understanding alight in his eyes. For just an instant, they shared the knowledge that they were set apart from others, that their abilities gave them insights into everything from the recent events and habits of an ordinary life to the dark corners of the human mind, where shadows and monsters lurked.
Then Miranda realized whom she was smiling at, and forced herself to look away from him. She met the doctor's calm gaze, and said the first thing that came into her head. "I guess there isn't much hope he left fingerprints on the tampon?"
"No hope at all. I believe he wore latex gloves, probably from the moment he grabbed the kids."
"And since the time of death for Lynet means he was dropping her into that well before dawn, we're unlikely to find anyone who saw anything."
Edwards sighed. "He's careful, I'll say that for him. If Bishop is right and grabbing Lynet was a mistake, then that's the only one he's made, as far as I can see."
"No," Bishop said. "He's made one more. He didn't bury Adam Ramsay deep enough."
"Oh, come on, Bonnie, it'll be fun." Amy kept her voice low even though Mrs. Task was downstairs getting supper ready.
"I don't think Randy would like it," Bonnie protested.
Exasperated, Amy said, "Bon, it's very boring how you always do what your sister wants. I mean, come on — what's the harm? It's just a game."
Bonnie looked at the Ouija board lying on the bed between them. It made her feel very nervous, a reaction she could hardly explain to Amy; there were some secrets even best friends couldn't share. Stalling for time, she said, "I can't believe you sat through church with that in your backpack. Reverend Seaton would call it a tool of the devil, you know he would."
"It was out in Steve's car," Amy said. "Besides, Reverend Seaton isn't going to know. And neither is Miranda, unless you tell her." Amy read the hesitancy in Bonnie's expression and added quickly, "Even if you did tell her, Miranda isn't religious, so why would it bother her? It isn't a tool of the devil, it's just a game. Come on."
"You just want to find out if Steve means to ask you to the prom," Bonnie said dryly.
"No," Amy said, feeling heat rise in her face, "I want to find out if he gives a damn about me."
Bonnie's clear, startlingly blue eyes suddenly turned gentle. "He isn't dating anyone else. You'd know if he was."
"That doesn't mean he cares about me. I give him what he wants, Bonnie. And maybe that's all he wants."
It was a question Bonnie could have answered, but that was a rule she dared not break. She glanced down at the Ouija board, wondering guiltily if just bending the rule was really so bad when her intentions were good.