The Burying Place

Maggie jerked her head toward the front of the house. 'Come on.'

As they walked, Kasey said, 'I don't know if it makes a difference right now, but I handed in my resignation today. Bruce and I talked about it, and we both think this is the way to go. I know I was supposed to call you, but it's been busy with us packing up the truck and all. We're going to leave first thing in the morning.'

'I understand.'

'I feel like I'm bailing on you.'

'You're not bailing on me. If it were me, I might be doing the same thing.'

'Do you think I'm being paranoid?'

Maggie shook her head. 'No, I don't.' At the front door, she added, 'Take your shoes off, and put on some plastic booties. Don't touch anything, OK?'

'Sure.'

The interior of the house smelled like glue from the fume boxes used by the evidence technicians to raise fingerprints. The carpet had been freshly vacuumed to gather trace materials. Maggie led Kasey up the stairs. At the open door of Regan's bedroom, she turned and stopped her with a hand on her chest. 'I'm not trying to be cruel, Kasey. If you don't want to go inside, just tell me, but I think this is something you need to see for yourself. It'll probably make you feel better about getting into your truck tomorrow morning.'

'What's in there?' Kasey asked.

'He left you a message.'

Maggie let Kasey go first. The young cop crossed the threshold, and her eyes flitted around the room. The massive bloodstain attracted her attention, and she inched closer and squatted down, where the smell was strongest. Maggie thought Kasey was about to touch the stain itself, and she prepared to call out a warning, but Kasey pulled her hand back. Then her head twisted, and she saw the writing on the wall.

Two words. A ghastly greeting.

Kasey's hands flew to her mouth.

'I'm sorry,' Maggie said. 'It's not the same to hear about it on the phone. I thought you should know exactly how dangerous this situation has become for you.'

Kasey stumbled to her feet and collided against the wall of the bedroom. Maggie heard the lurching noise of Kasey's stomach turning upside down. Kasey ran for the toilet, but she only made it to the bathroom doorway before sinking to her knees. Vomit spewed through her clenched fingers and splattered on the tile. She fell forward on to all fours, head down, red hair tumbling over her face. Her body shook with dry heaves.

Maggie stood over her and put a hand softly on her back. 'Are you all right?'

Kasey took deep, ragged breaths without speaking. She eased upward on to her heels, and her head fell back. She blinked as she stared at the ceiling.

'Shit, I'm sorry,' she murmured.

'Don't worry about it.'

'How did it come to this?' Kasey asked. 'How did this become my life?'

'It's not your fault.'

'I need to go,' Kasey said. She staggered to her feet and swayed. Maggie put an arm around her waist to steady her. She helped Kasey toward the bedroom door, steering her around the pool of black dried blood.

'I don't want to scare you,' Maggie said, 'but running away may not be enough. For some reason, this guy has become fixated on you. You're special to him. He may not give up just because you leave the area. Wherever you go, watch your back.'

In the door frame, Kasey stopped and stood on her own. She took a few steps closer to the wall, where the message taunted her.

'You're right.'

Maggie saw something unexpected in Kasey's eyes. The fear was gone, as if she had hit bottom and realized there was nowhere else to fall. She looked older, not like an immature kid any more. Her face held a fury so deep that Maggie found it unsettling.

'It's him or me,' Kasey added. 'That's the way it is. Only one of us is coming out of this thing alive.'

Stride recognized the Ford Taurus parked at the end of the road leading to the Glenn house. When he got out of his truck, he found Blair Rowe sitting on top of the white picket fence that bordered the driveway. She kicked her heels back and forth against the wooden beams like a tap dancer. A cigarette hung from her lips. She jumped down when she saw him and bounded across the grass.

'Lieutenant!' Blair sang out.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather coat. The tiny reporter stopped uncomfortably close to him.

'Hey,' she said breathlessly. 'I figured you'd be coming here.'

'Why is that?' Stride asked.

'Oh, I've got an ear to the ground.' She took the cigarette out of her mouth and played with it between her fingers. Ash sprinkled to the street. 'So how's it going?'

'I didn't figure you for a smoker, Blair,' Stride told her.

'It's not just adrenaline that keeps me skinny,' she said, grinning. 'Besides, I'm a reporter. We have to smoke. It's required. That's the first thing they teach you in journalism school.' She tapped the square outline of a cigarette pack in the shoulder pocket of her jacket. 'You want one?'

He did, but he shook his head.

'What about a toasted pecan?' she asked, digging in her side pocket and popping a nut into her mouth. 'My mom makes them. They've got a cinnamon glaze. Really good.'

'Your mom's quite the cook.'

'Well, she's home with my kid a lot, so she has to keep busy when lie's sleeping. She's a stick like me, but we both love to eat.'

'What do you want, Blair?' Stride asked.

She dropped her cigarette on the ground and shoved her glasses up her face with her finger. 'I heard about Regan Conrad. Is it true that Marcus Glenn is under arrest for the murder?' 'No.'

'Really? Word is you caught him red-handed. Someone told me he m i up the crime scene to make it look like that serial killer popped Regan.'

'I'm not in charge of the murder investigation, Blair,' Stride said.

'Yeah, sure, except I can connect the dots. Regan's dead, and you found Marcus pawing through her files. Sounds like she had dirt on him and Callie.'

'We're done here, Blair.'

He walked past her down the circular driveway that led to the Glenns' house. Blair spun and struggled to keep pace with him, her short legs moving quickly. Puffs of steam came out of her mouth and blew away in the wind.

'You're here to see Valerie, huh?' Blair asked, panting. 'You should be thanking me, you know. I'm the one who broke the news about Valerie's affair. You guys didn't know about that, did you?'

'It's not relevant,' Stride snapped.

Blair's glasses slipped again, resting on the tip of her nose so she had to tilt her head back to see him. 'Are you kidding? Come on, it gives Marcus a motive. We both know that. His pretty little wife is banging her brother-in-law? That's not going to sit well with King Marcus. And you know what I think? I think Marcus had Regan run a paternity test that proved he wasn't Callie's father. That's what he was looking for in her medical records. He wouldn't want it coming out that he knew the truth about Callie.'

Stride stopped and looked at her. 'Do you have any evidence of that?'

'Not yet, but I'm looking.'

'Then you have nothing but speculation.'

He continued walking, but Blair tugged on his arm. 'So what's the deal, Lieutenant? When do you start the search out at the cemetery?'

'What did you say?'

Stride was shocked. He had left Micki's trailer less than an hour earlier, and the only person he had called was Denise Sheridan.

Blair smirked, as if she could read his mind. 'Are you going to run the search at night or are you waiting until morning? Snow's coming soon, so that's going to make it harder. My bet is you'll bring in the Klieg lights and go at it tonight.'

'No comment.'

'Hey, the news is coming out, like it or not. You may as well make sure I've got the story right. You're searching in the cemetery where half the Glenn family is buried and Micki Vega is the caretaker. So what did Micki tell you? I said from the beginning that she and Marcus were probably in on this together.'