Ravenwood by Fletcher, Linda Ellen -- Read -- Imperial Library of Trantor

Index

Ravenwood About the Author About the Book Dedication Copyright Information © Prologue

June 1997

Twenty Years Later

Within minutes of receiving the 911 call, patrol cars arrived at the park entrance, and Ed Carpenter approached Jillian and Charlotte. He was in his mid-thirties, average height, with a brawny physique and thinning hair combed to one side. Jillian immediately sensed the detective’s arrogance and while she was accustomed to men noticing her, Detective Carpenter was ogling. “Ladies, where did you find the body?” he asked authoritatively. “Charlotte, why don’t you stay here with Chip while I show Detective Carpenter?” Jillian suggested. She would have preferred Charlotte come along, but knew it was best if she stayed behind with Chip. “Thanks. Chip will start the awful howling again if I go back there.” When they neared the crime scene, Jillian pointed and said, “Over there, under that tree.” “Wait here,” Detective Carpenter said sternly. Jillian didn’t appreciate his overbearing attitude. “Don’t worry, I have no wish to view the murdered woman again,” she replied with a hint of sarcasm. After securing the crime scene, Detective Carpenter escorted Jillian back to the park entrance and leered at her again. “So, Miss Spencer, do you live alone?” “Yes.” “I can stop by and make certain you’re OK. We can spend time together and see where it goes from there.” “That’s unnecessary,” she said coldly and could tell from his facial expression that her reply angered him. “Have it your way,” he retorted. They reached the park entrance and Detective Carpenter’s manner was brusque when he questioned Charlotte and Jillian. After jotting down a few notes, he flipped the notebook shut and said, “That’s all the questions for now. You’re free to go, but be available for more questioning.” He turned his back on them and walked away. Charlotte looked at Jillian. “Since we’re dismissed, do you want to stop at my house for coffee before going home?” “Yes, coffee sounds good.” As soon as they reached Charlotte’s house, she called her husband and told him about the park murder, then joined Jillian on the patio. Trying to appear calm, Charlotte said, “Stan offered to come home, but I told him to stay at work and finish his construction contract.” She stirred cream in her cup and forced a smile. “Do you like the coffee? It’s a blend of cinnamon and hazelnut. I wanted to try something different.” “It has a nice flavor; I’ll pick up a bag.” After a few minutes of silence, Charlotte said, “I’m sure neither of us wants to think about what we witnessed this morning, but I hope whoever committed this heinous crime doesn’t get off on an insanity plea. That poor woman.” “The murderer may not be insane according to the legal definition. A person can be insane, yet still know right from wrong. Whoever committed the murder enjoys inflicting pain.” Jillian shuddered at the thought of such a despicable act. Charlotte studied Jillian momentarily before speaking. “What you just said is very insightful; I didn’t consider the part about inflicting pain for the fun of it. Why don’t you stay with me and Stan so you’re not alone at night? I remember hearing of another park murder a couple months ago involving a young woman.” Suddenly becoming aware of the content of her stream of consciousness banter, Charlotte quickly added, “Of course, the murders may be unrelated.” “Thanks for the invitation, but I’ll be OK. I have a high-tech security system and a handgun, and even though Marcus may not fight off intruders, he’s good company.” Charlotte grinned. “If you change your mind, the invitation is open to both of you.” Jillian looked at the gray flagstones under her feet. “I just realized you redid the patio, and it’s much larger than the old one.” “Stan’s carpentry skills come in handy. Are you sure I can’t get you another cup of coffee?” “No, I’m good.” “That Detective Carpenter is a conceited jerk. Did you notice how he strutted? He was downright rude and seemed mad about something.” “On the walk back to the entrance gate, he asked if I lived alone and offered to stop by and check on me. On the surface that sounds reasonable, but then he added that we could spend time together and see what happens. And the way he looked at me when he offered his services was repulsive.” Charlotte’s eyes widened. “What did you say?” “I said it wasn’t necessary, but he didn’t like my answer and acted surly after that.” “I’m glad you set him straight. He must have an enormous ego to think you’d give him a second glance.” Jillian glanced at her wristwatch. “I need to pick up a couple items from the market. Want to come along, and we can eat lunch in the village afterward? Staying busy may keep our minds off what we saw this morning.” “It’s enough to give anyone nightmares. I’d offer to drive, but Stan took my car to the dealership yesterday. Something about the transmission making a noise when switching gears.” “I’ll go get my car and come back.” “Let me get my purse, and I’ll walk with you.”

He was investigating the Crystal Lake homicide and another park murder that occurred two months before. Based on the similarities of the crime scenes, the FBI determined they were dealing with a serial killer.

Sheriff Cooper stood and extended his hand. “Good afternoon, Agent Reynolds. Thank you for coming. Can I offer you coffee or a Coke?” “No, thanks.” Mike sat in the chair opposite the sheriff’s desk. "My partner, Jim Miller, isn’t able to be here now, but will join me in a few days. Sheriff, the Bureau has reason to believe the same person committed this murder as another one two months ago in a Maryland state park. The crime scenes are identical, and we know it’s not a copycat because of the one detail from the first murder that isn’t public information. Namely, the ‘Now You See Me’ typed note left behind with each victim.’’ The sheriff nodded slowly. “Does the FBI have a theory?” Mike explained, “The profile indicates a male, between thirty-five and forty-five years of age; a sociopath with sexual inhibitions, who’s inept around women. The victim’s eyes being taped wide open is like she’s staring at the predator, so he’s getting that attention—being seen.” Sighing, the sheriff commented, “Our crime rate is usually low in Crystal Lake, and crimes of this caliber are nonexistent, or rather were before this. Detective Carpenter spoke with the parents and friends of the victim and the women who discovered the body in the park. My officers have been on high alert since the murder and will patrol the area day and night. Any suspects?” “Nothing solid. Did the victim report a break-in before the murder?” “Yes, and lingerie was stolen. Is this somehow connected to the murder?” “Someone broke into the first victim’s house, ransacked the bedroom, and stole undergarments. Apparently, the guy steals a personal item before committing the murder.” Sheriff Cooper shook his head sadly. “I guess it takes all kinds. If you have the time, I can drive you to the crime scene now.” “Yes, thank you, Sheriff. Working together, we might just get lucky and catch the guy before he kills again.” No longer feeling territorial, Sheriff Cooper assured Mike of his department’s full cooperation.

After verifying his ID, she said, “Please come inside, Agent Reynolds; we can sit in the den.” Chip followed them and sprawled out on the area rug in front of the fireplace. Mike sat on the sofa, thinking it was a cozy room where you could prop your feet and not worry about messing something up. “Mrs. Mitchell, I need to ask you a few questions about the recent park murder. You told Detective Carpenter you’re not acquainted with the victim, Sherrie Allen. Any involvement with family members?” Charlotte wrinkled her nose at the mention of Detective Carpenter. “No involvement.” Mike raised a brow. “You made a face when I mentioned Detective Carpenter. Do you have something to tell me?” “It doesn’t pertain to the case, but since you ask, Detective Carpenter sets a poor example for the police force. He made a pass at Jillian Spencer, and when she rejected his advances, he acted like an arrogant jerk.” “I haven’t met Detective Carpenter yet, but I’ll report this to his superior. Do you customarily walk in the park so early?” “Occasionally, but since this happened, I don’t intend to go back there at all.” “Did anything seem unusual that morning?” “I didn’t notice other visitors, not even joggers, but it was still early. Is this murder connected to that other one in the state park a few months ago?” “That’s a separate issue that I’m not at liberty to discuss.” “I understand. In addition to our security system, Chip warns us when someone comes in the yard. Trust me, when Chip starts howling, it’s enough to wake up everyone in the neighborhood.” Mike grinned. “A barking dog is a good deterrent, and the police are patrolling this area around the clock.” Mike closed his notebook and said, “That’s all the questions I have for today. You can reach me at this number should you recall anything else.” He handed her his business card and stood up to leave. “Jillian Spencer’s house is a half mile down the road,” Charlotte volunteered. “The yellow cottage on the left.” “Thank you, Mrs. Mitchell.” Just as Mike stepped up on the front porch of Jillian’s house, a young woman opened the door and said, “Please come inside, Agent Reynolds.” As he followed her to the living room across from the foyer, she asked, “Would you like something to drink?” “No, I’m good.” He sat in a leather chair beside the fireplace and admired the architectural detail of the house. “Do you live alone?” “No. My cat, Marcus, lives with me.” Mike smiled slightly. "That’s a rather unusual name for a pet.’’ “It seems to suit him. I understand from Charlotte Mitchell that another murder involving a young woman occurred a short while back. Do you suspect a serial killer?” Word gets around in this town. “Sorry, I can’t discuss specifics of the case. Did you notice anything unusual that morning in the park?” Jillian took his response as a yes to her question about a serial killing. “Nothing seemed odd that morning. I don’t know the victim or family members.” Mike studied her for a minute. How did she know my next question? Has to be coincidence. “Agent Reynolds, what do you suggest I do to better protect myself? I’m in the same age group as those women.” “First off, you should ask for identification before letting a stranger into your house, no matter who you think they are.” Jillian smiled inwardly, but didn’t respond to his statement. Charlotte had phoned ahead to let her know he was on the way, and besides, she could tell he was trustworthy by looking at him. Of course, he had no way of knowing she was clairvoyant. He continued, “Can you stay with someone?” “Charlotte Mitchell extended an invitation, but I prefer to stay in my home. My security alarm is monitored, and I own a handgun.” She quickly added, “I’m licensed to carry.” A gutsy lady. “Can someone stay with you, then?” “There isn’t anyone.” His question was a painful reminder she had no family, since her stepfather died three years ago from heart disease and her mother a year later from a fast spreading cancer. He nodded sympathetically. “Well, then take normal safety precautions and stay aware of your surroundings at all times. Lock your deadbolts, keep your cell phone with you, and leave a light on inside and outside at night. Don’t answer the door to strangers, and in the event, you receive any strange calls or see anyone hanging around you don’t recognize, call the police. They’re patrolling the area day and night.” “That’s reassuring,” she said. “Thank you for your time today, Miss Spencer. I can be reached at the number on this card should you recall anything else.” Jillian took his card and locked the deadbolt after he left. Her mere presence in any room would get a man’s attention, Mike thought as he drove back to the hotel.

“Thanks, but you don’t need my help. Your home is attractive, and I always feel relaxed there.” “My place might be a little too casual, but we’re comfortable. So how did your meeting go with the hunky FBI agent yesterday?” Jillian shrugged off the question. “He asked a few questions and left.” “And…” Charlotte urged. “OK, he’s really handsome, but all business.” “And tall.” Jillian grinned. “Do you want to check out the new candle shop in Village Square that just opened today?” “Sounds like fun, but you’re trying to change the subject. I’m good at reading people.” “Yes, Charlotte, you are.” Jillian had never told Charlotte about her own intuitive skills. Jillian drove around the parking lot until she found a space vacated by another customer. The sign above the shop’s door read ‘Clarissa’s Candles – Grand Opening’, and it was brimming with customers on the first official day of business. Browsing through the shop, Jillian selected some beeswax candles, and Charlotte chose scented room fresheners. The young, blonde-haired woman behind the cash register greeted them with a welcoming smile. She totaled their purchases and gave them a discount coupon to use on their next visit. As they exited the shop, a chill swept through Jillian, and she sensed someone was watching her. “A lot of people showed up for the grand opening today,” Charlotte commented. She started to say more, but stopped. “Jillian, are you OK? You’re awfully pale.” “I’m getting a headache is all.” “Why don’t we head home? I need to get started on preparing dinner anyway.” “Yes, all right.” Back home, Jillian entered the alarm code and rechecked the locks on the windows and doors. When she sat next to Marcus on the sofa in the den, he opened his eyes just into tiny slits, then went back to sleep. Although the police were patrolling the area, the recent murder and eerie sensation she’d experienced at the candle shop made her uneasy. She retrieved a gun from the bedroom closet, and thinking it was too quiet, turned on the television.

Ian put the photo back in the suitcase and removed the gun cleaning kit he always carried with him. His father had taught him to hunt at an early age, and he always enjoyed the kill. At thirteen, he shot his first deer, and by age sixteen, he was an expert hunter with strong survival skills in the wilderness. But as he matured, he soon grew tired of chasing after game and began stalking unsuspecting young women. Removing a cloth and lubricant from his cleaning kit, he readied his pistol for cleaning.

She tried to sound serious when she said, “Good morning. Please show me your identification before entering.” He grinned and flashed his ID. “Please come in Agent Reynolds. I just finished brewing a pot of coffee. Would you like a cup?” “Sure would. I stayed up late and can use a caffeine boost,” he said, following her to the kitchen. “Cream and sugar?” “Black is fine.” Jillian poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him. “Cinnamon rolls and napkins are on the table. This is my cheat day of the week, when I eat what I want with no guilt.” Mike bit into a roll and wiped the excess glaze from his mouth with a napkin. “Messy, but tasty.” She grinned. “I’ll get you a fork.” “It’s OK, the napkin will suffice. This is a big improvement over hotel food.” Jillian smiled and stirred some cream into her cup. “Thank you. I’m not much of a cook, but the recipe is fairly simple.” He glanced around the room and tried to make small talk. “This is a nice kitchen. Did you remodel?” “The previous owners remodeled, and I added the stainless steel appliances. I was looking to buy an older home near the lake when I found this cottage. Lake property in this area is scarce, but fortunately, I bought it before someone else did.” “I prefer older homes myself, because they have more character. When did you move to Crystal Lake?” “A couple of months ago. According to my neighbor, Charlotte Mitchell, Crystal Lake was a safe place to live. But that was before the park murder.” Mike drank the last bit of coffee and set the cup on the table. He hated to leave this alluring woman’s company, but didn’t want to seem awkward. “I just stopped by to check on you, but won’t take up more of your time. Thanks for the coffee and roll.” “I’m between work assignments, so I’m not all that busy.” Mike started to say more, but something rubbed against his pant leg. “Well, what do we have here?” He leaned over and petted the cat’s head. “Presumably, this big guy is Marcus.” Jillian laughed. “Oh yes, and you should feel honored that Marcus let you pet him. He hisses at most people.” “Marcus senses I’m an animal lover. Since you’re not busy, would you care to join me for lunch? Hotel food gets really tiring.” “Yes, thanks. The Lakeview Cafe in the village has great burgers and fries; also, full meals.” “That sounds like my kind of diner. I’ll be back around noon.” The doorbell rang as Jillian walked with him to the front door, and she opened it to Detective Carpenter, whom she was not pleased to see. Mike noticed the way Jillian flinched, and stood back to watch their interaction. “Detective Carpenter, what brings you here today?” “Stopped by to check on your welfare like I said I would.” She was more than agitated. “Detective, I thought I made myself clear at the park, it’s unnecessary for you to do that.” “Come on, you didn’t mean it.” “Yes, I did, but be assured that if I need help, I won’t be calling you.” “You little bitch.” Mike moved up next to Jillian and opened the door wide. “Detective, why don’t you come inside and repeat those words?” Detective Carpenter stepped inside, flashed his badge and said, “Who the hell are you?” Mike showed him his ID. “I’m the special agent in charge of this murder case. Now, let’s step outside.” Jillian refrained from reacting to Detective Carpenter’s surprised expression, but once the men went outside, she snickered. A few minutes later, Mike came back in and said, “Detective Carpenter is gone and won’t be back. I called Sheriff Cooper and updated him on the detective’s behavior.” “How did someone like him ever become a detective?” “Sheriff Cooper said he’s related to someone in law enforcement, and that’s the only reason he’s on the force. But he won’t be much longer. This isn’t the first time they’ve had issues with him.” “Thank you for taking care of that,” she said, genuinely grateful. Mike smiled warmly. “I’ll be back to take you to lunch, but call me if you have any problems in the meantime.” Jillian sat at the kitchen table, cupping a hand around the still warm cup. Agent Reynolds was not at all as stuffy as he seemed when she’d first met him. She was glad he’d been there when the jerk detective arrived. On the drive back to the hotel, Mike reminded himself that agents shouldn’t mix work and romance; it complicates matters. I’ll make certain things stay on a professional level, so no harm done, he thought. Lunch carried over to dinner, and Jillian forgot about the murdered woman until Mike drove her home and walked her to the front door. She was suddenly apprehensive and just stood there, not moving. “Jillian, is something wrong?” “Do you mind checking inside before you leave?” “Not at all. I planned to do that anyway.” She entered the security code and slowly opened the door. They checked the rooms together, but when they reached the master bedroom, it became clear someone had been there, as evidenced by opened dresser drawers and items strewn around the room. Mike promptly withdrew his gun from the shoulder holster and checked the bedroom closet. When he was satisfied there was no one in the house, he put his gun back in the holster and said, “Whoever was here is gone now. Do you keep anything in your closet that a burglar would want to steal?” “No, just clothing and suitcases.” “Whoever broke into your house was searching for something in this room. I need you to check for missing items.” “Wait, I haven’t seen Marcus since we got back, and the bedroom is his usual hiding place when he gets upset.” Frantically, she searched the bedroom, calling to him. Cautiously, Marcus emerged from under the bed, and when she squatted and rubbed his ear, he purred with pleasure. Lucky cat, Mike thought. Jillian opened the jewelry box on the dresser, then searched through the drawers. When she finished, she turned to Mike and said, “Sleepwear is missing from the middle dresser drawer, but nothing else.” “Can you be more specific?” “Specifically, a black lacy nightgown my mother got me. She said I needed something more than my oversized T-shirt.” Why am I telling him this? He doesn’t care about the reason. His grin came slow and easy. It’s not difficult to know what he’s thinking. “Why would a burglar leave the jewelry my mother gave me, the only thing in the house of real value?” She paused before finishing the statement. “He’s not a burglar, but a stalker, who steals personal items like lingerie from the woman he’s stalking.” A chill ran down Jillian’s spine, causing her to shiver. “Are you cold?” “No, it’s just an eerie sensation.” “Why don’t we sit and sort through this?” “OK, I’ll make coffee.” She ground the beans and stood at the kitchen counter, waiting for the coffee to brew. Meanwhile, Mike reported the break-in to local police. When he finished with his phone call, she said, “Could this break-in be related to the park murder?” “I have to consider all possibilities, but it’s too early in the investigation to speculate.” There’s no point in scaring her even more by telling her a stalker broke into the homes of the first two murder victims. Within minutes, two policemen arrived at Jillian’s house, and Mike spoke to one officer while the other dusted for fingerprints. After they left, he returned to the kitchen and saw Jillian sitting at the kitchen table, staring out the window. “Jillian, the officers are gone.” She jerked at the sound of Mike’s voice and turned around to face him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” “I’m usually more aware of my surroundings, but I didn’t hear you come in. I was thinking how naïve I was to believe a security system would keep me safe from intruders. Apparently, this person had no problem bypassing the code. I called my security company while you spoke with the officers, and they’re sending a tech over tomorrow to check the wiring.” “Regardless of how sophisticated a home security system is, someone adept at overriding codes will find a way. It’s unwise for you to be alone tonight, so I’ll camp out here, and we’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.” She studied Mike for a minute. “If I stayed with Charlotte and Stan, whoever broke into my house might follow me, and that would endanger them.” Mike arched a brow. How did she know my thoughts? “Jillian, at this point, we have unanswered questions, so my prime objective now is keeping you safe.” “Thank you for staying here tonight and taking me to lunch and dinner today. I still wish you would let me split the cost for our meals.” “It was my pleasure, and I’ve got the cost of the food covered. You’re probably worn out from everything going on, so why don’t we call it a night.” “My bedroom is downstairs, and the other two are upstairs.” “That’s too much distance between us, so I’ll sleep downstairs.” “The portable cot is rickety, but will support my weight, so I’ll use it, and you can take the bed. Just so you know, I don’t invite men I barely know into my bedroom, but I’m making an exception. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re a few feet away.” Mike looked her over and said, “What do you weigh, maybe 115 pounds?” Jillian laughed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but 125 pounds.” He grinned. “Show me where the cot is kept, but I’m not taking your bed.” “Why are men so stubborn? The cot is in the hall closet.” After showing him where she stored the portable bed, Jillian went to retrieve linens. When she returned to the bedroom, the cot mattress lay on the floor, but the metal bedframe stood against the wall. She refrained from saying, I told you it wouldn’t hold your weight, and helped him make his bed.

Mike was at the sink and turned when Jillian entered the room. “Good morning. I hope my snoring didn’t keep you awake.” “You know perfectly well you don’t snore.” “Wow, you’re good. That was my best poker face.” What was I thinking? He’s testing my intuitiveness, and I fell for the bait. Did I give something away to make him wonder if I’m clairvoyant? Usually it was easy for her to conceal that fact from others, so the possibility he had figured it out was disconcerting. “What smells so good?” “Veggie omelets and toast. I didn’t find meat in the fridge, so I improvised, but we can pick up a few groceries after breakfast. Afterward, I need to stop by the hotel and get my clothes.” “Ordinarily, my breakfast consists of a shake made from veggies and fruit.” “That sounds revolting, and no wonder you’re so tiny.” She laughed. “It’s healthy and better than it sounds. The fruit camouflages the taste of the kale and vegetables.” Marcus lay by the window watching Mike’s every move and got up when he set plates of food on the table. Mike noticed the cat’s reaction and spooned some of the omelet into his food dish; Marcus quickly devoured it. Jillian sampled the omelet. “I understand why Marcus likes your cooking; it’s delicious.” “I’m glad you both like it.” “We can do it together.” “Just relax and finish your coffee. I need to move around and shake off this food.” She went to get a trash bag and cried out in shock when she opened the pantry door, “No, it can’t be!” Terror swept through her, and she trembled. Mike rushed to her side and saw a snapshot of the murdered woman from the park taped to the pantry shelf. “I saw you in the park” was scribbled on the photo. He put his arm around Jillian’s shoulders and steered her to a kitchen chair. “Do you have anything stronger to drink than coffee?” “Wine, in the middle cupboard above the stove,” she muttered. Sorry bastard, Mike thought. After uncorking the wine bottle, he poured the Zinfandel into a glass and handed it to her. Then he called his partner and Sheriff Cooper. Jillian’s hands shook as she sipped the wine, trying to calm her nerves. After Mike concluded his calls, he sat next to Jillian and held her hand. “Sheriff Cooper will be here soon.” “The murderer followed me from the park, so this means he saw Charlotte, too. I need to call her right away.” “I’ll speak with Charlotte and her husband in a little while.” “Why would a killer take pictures of the murder scene? Some kind of sick thrill?” “Some murderers are adrenaline junkies and crave the rush they get from taking risks.” The warmth from his hand was comforting. “What frightens you, Mike?” “Tornadoes, earthquakes; things we can’t control. People frighten me the most, and I know firsthand evil exists, having witnessed it more than once in my line of work.” Her eyes are so penetrating, like she’s reading my mind. “My partner, Jim Miller, is flying in tomorrow, so one of us will be with you at all times while we arrange for a safe house.” “Thank you so much for doing this, but I can’t leave Marcus behind.” “I promise we’ll take Marcus with us.” “Mike, there’s something I need to tell you. I think you already figured out I’m intuitive, but it’s more than that. I’m clairvoyant, and while ESP can be developed to some degree, I’ve always been psychic, as was my grandmother. Prior to discovering the murdered woman, I sensed a dark presence in the park. And yesterday, when Charlotte and I were at Clarissa’s Candle Shop, it felt as though someone was watching me, but I saw no one.” “After your reluctance to go in the house last night and some other things you picked up on, I suspected something like that. Especially when you saw through my pretense of snoring. A few years back, Jim and I worked with a psychic on another murder case. Her insight proved helpful in solving the crime,” he said appreciatively. Somewhat chagrined, Jillian confessed, “I was mad at myself for falling for your bait about the snoring and realized afterward you were testing me. I’m usually better at keeping my psychic ability concealed, but for some reason, I blab everything to you.” “Do you have visions?” “As a rule, I don’t have visions, but perceive things that aren’t apparent to others. When darkness comes in the form of pure evil, I sense it right away, but sometimes it’s more difficult to detect because of other factors. For example, someone could be involved with something we consider wrong, but the person believes it’s for a higher purpose, so doesn’t view it as bad. In that scenario, my perception may be clouded, and it takes longer to discern the truth. I sense you’re loyal and trustworthy, and that’s why I confided in you.” Jillian began telling Mike about her other psychic experiences, and afterward, felt drained. “Jillian, thank you for confiding in me, and I promise not to say anything about your psychic ability without your permission.” The doorbell interrupted their conversation. “Wait here while I answer the door. We’ll figure this out afterward.” Mike opened the door to Sheriff Cooper, and they stood in the foyer for several minutes discussing the break-in and burglary. “After breaking into the house, the psycho takes a piece of lingerie and leaves a calling card,” Mike said. "A picture of the recent murder victim with the message ‘I saw you in the park’. Jillian found the photo taped to a pantry shelf this morning, which is what the sadistic bastard planned. The biggest mistake criminals make is being overconfident, and this guy’s getting bolder by leaving clues before the next murder. My partner is flying in tomorrow, and we’ll arrange for her to stay at a safe house.’’ “One crazy SOB,” Sheriff Cooper said. “I’ll run the photo for fingerprints, but anyone smart enough to bypass a sophisticated security system is not likely to leave that kind of evidence.” Mike nodded in agreement.

10 11 12

The two of them had spent the morning surveying the expansive perimeter of Ravenwood through field binoculars, searching for the best entry point. Afterward, they determined it was an insurmountable task. “Too many armed men for us to sneak onto the grounds, but they’ll come out at some point, and we’ll be ready,” Ian said. “Let’s head back to the motel and regroup,” Collier replied.

“Coffee, please. Can I help with anything?” “Not at the moment; cups are on the table with the cream and sugar.” Within a few minutes, the others trailed in as well, and Ellie dished up the food. Jillian sampled the ham first and loved the smoky flavor, then she spread peach preserves on a buttermilk biscuit. “Ellie, everything tastes wonderful. Being single, I usually make a sandwich, or go out to eat, but there’s no comparison to this food. I’m thinking I should get a cookbook and learn how to prepare a hot meal.” “You can help with dinner, and we can begin with simple dishes,” Ellie offered. “Cooking isn’t difficult once you know the basics.” “Thank you, Ellie. I look forward to it.” Mike glanced over at Jim, who hadn’t said much. “You’re unusually quiet this morning.” “I’ll converse after I finish eating, but presently, I’m having a religious experience with the food.” Everyone at the table burst into laughter. Right after breakfast, Ron conducted a tour of the farm as promised, and while everything was familiar to Mike, Jim commended the group’s accomplishments. The residents produced their own food, raised livestock, and everyone worked together and shared as an extended family. The settlement sold wares through their farmer’s catalog, and during the holidays, marketed baskets filled with seasonal items. As a result of their combined efforts, the group had created a profitable catalog business for Ravenwood. Jillian had dismissed the bothersome thoughts she’d had the night before, but they resurfaced after breakfast. She was helping with the cleanup, and Ellie critiqued her every move. What does it matter if cups are placed next to glasses in the dishwasher as long as they’re on the top rack? Canned goods are alphabetized and stacked in perfect order on pantry shelves, and condiments are arranged in a specific order in the refrigerator. Ellie seems obsessive-compulsive with anything relating to her home. It’s good of Ron and Ellie to let me stay here, though, so I’ll have to make the best of the situation. Jillian’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Ellie’s voice. "The catalog committee is meeting here tomorrow afternoon to discuss the fall design. You’re welcome to join us." She closed the door of the dishwasher and sat at the table with Ellie. “Thanks, that sounds like fun.” Marcus meowed, so she bent over to pet him. “Is Greta Thompson on the committee? Mike mentioned she suggested the name Ravenwood for the settlement in memory of her pet raven.” “Greta will be here and is entertaining with her colorful stories, but she gossips and exaggerates. It’s best not to take what she says too seriously.” The following afternoon, Ellie greeted committee members upon arrival and introduced Jillian as a friend of Mike’s. Once every member was present, they went to the dining room, and opened the meeting with a committee report. Jillian listened as Nancy Jarvis read from the minutes of the previous gathering. While Nancy appeared much younger than the other women, like them, her style was simple with little makeup, and her clothing consisted of a cotton blouse and cotton skirt. None of the women wore jeans like Jillian, making her feel somewhat out of place. The next topic was the fall catalog design and following that discussion, Ellie delegated projects to each committee member. Greta Thomas glanced at Jillian off and on during the meeting and approached her afterward. Snow-white hair, twisted in a bun, and a bright smile best described Greta. She peered over her bifocals and said, “Jillian, do you care to join me tomorrow for lunch, around noon? Mike can show you the way.” Jillian smiled genuinely at Greta. “Why yes, thank you.” Greta patted Jillian’s hand. “Good.” That evening, Jim left with Ron to check on the livestock, and Ellie took part in a quilting bee at the community center. Mike and Jillian sat outside on the patio enjoying the milder weather, and the evening breeze was a welcome respite from the afternoon heat. “Ellie invited me to the catalog committee meeting today, and I met several of the women here. Afterward, Greta Thompson invited me to lunch tomorrow, at noon.” “Greta’s cabin isn’t far; I’ll show you the way. You should know that only special people get invited to Greta’s home.” Jillian smiled. “If you’re trying to charm me, your plan is working.” Mike grinned. “Perhaps a little, but I meant every word.” He swatted at an insect landing on his forearm. “Let’s go back in the house. I wanted to sit outside longer, but the mosquitoes are out in droves.”

When Mike and Jillian arrived, she said, “Mike, you’re welcome to join us for lunch.” “Thanks Greta, but I have to be elsewhere this afternoon.” “Don’t get caught in the rain.” “The sky is clear; what makes you think it will rain?” “My right knee is throbbing, so that means rain.” “Well then, I’d better get going.” As Mike was leaving, he turned to Jillian and murmured, “I won’t be far away.” The interior of Greta’s cabin was warm and inviting with comfortable furnishings and a red brick open hearth fireplace in the center of the room. “Greta, your home is charming,” Jillian remarked. “Thank you. During winter months, the fireplace comes in real handy, and electric wall heaters add more heat when needed. There’s nothing like a burning fireplace on a cold winter day. My great-grandson, Abe, makes certain I have plenty of logs to burn, and he’s such a blessing in my life. His parents died in a car wreck when he was a toddler, and since I was his nearest kin, he came to live with me. When he was old enough, he built his own cabin at Ravenwood, not far from mine.” Jillian glanced at the calico cat resting on a padded rocker, and a black one stretched out on the windowsill. Neither cat seemed bothered by her presence. For lunch, Greta served wild rice, fruit salad, and vegetable soup. “Greta, the blend of herbs and spices are perfect. I’d love your recipe for the soup.” “I’ll tell you the ingredients, and you can adjust the amounts to suit your taste. Being vegetarian, I can’t stomach the idea of killing something for food.” “When did you move to Ravenwood?” “Soon after my husband’s tour in Vietnam ended. Andrew and I built our homestead and never left. We had one child, our daughter, Denise. My husband and daughter are both gone now, and that’s the downside to living so long, you outlive loved ones. Since we’re done eating, why don’t we sit outside on the porch?” Greta suggested. Greta pointed straight ahead to where a herd of goats were grazing. “I’ve had my goats for many years, mainly because I prefer goat milk over cow’s milk, and I like goat cheese. Do you eat goat cheese?” “Yes, it’s one of my favorite cheeses.” Jillian spied some puppies playing with their mother in a field nearby. “Those puppies are so cute.” “They’re border collies, and this is Casey’s third and final litter. I don’t overbreed my animals. The pups will soon have homes with their new families. The breed is popular because border collies are easy to train, protective with families, and good with children.” A few minutes later, a raccoon came up to greet Greta. “This little fella is Ricky,” she explained. “I cared for him last year after finding him injured in the woods. He can survive on his own, but still visits me often.” Greta removed a treat from her skirt pocket and held it out to the raccoon. “Here you go, Ricky.” The raccoon gently took the food from her palm and left. Jillian was impressed by the connection Greta had with animals. “He seems so tame,” she commented. “Not with most people, actually. He usually won’t come around when I have company. So, Jillian, what do you think of our settlement at Ravenwood?” “Aside from the beautiful setting, the people seem friendly.” “What else?” Greta prodded. Jillian hedged. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” “Yes, you do. Tell me what you see.” “The communal farm model works well, and residents appear to get along, but Ravenwood is evolving.” Greta looked satisfied. “Ah, you have the gift of sight—embrace it and trust your instincts. Things are different now at Ravenwood, and residents are cliquish and close-mouthed. We’re supposed to care for each other, not keep secrets. I can’t give you specifics, but I believe something is very wrong in the settlement. You’ll recognize the truth when the time is right.” Surprised, Jillian looked at Greta and said, “So you’re clairvoyant, too, but in a different way than me.” “Yes, but your gift is stronger. I recognized it right away when I saw your eyes.” “My mother used to say I have my grandmother’s eyes.” “Often, psychic ability passes down to descendants. Years ago, people feared what they didn’t understand, but thankfully, over time, that attitude has changed.” Without warning, the clear sky grew dark and it started raining, just like Greta had said it would. Jillian looked at her and asked, “Can you always predict rain?” “Most of the time. It’s just light rain today, and then it will be clear.” Jillian was intrigued. “How are you able to predict the weather?” “By the way it affects my joints and from studying the signs and other things my father taught me. For many years, farmers have relied on their own almanacs for planting crops.” Mike returned at 2.00 p.m. to escort Jillian back to his aunt and uncle’s home. “Greta, your weather prediction was spot on,” he remarked. Greta had a self-satisfied look. “I’m glad to see you didn’t get too wet.” Mike grinned. “Thanks to your forecast. Jillian, are you ready to head back?” “Yes, I’m ready, and thank you Greta for inviting me to lunch. I had a really nice time today.” “I’m glad. I hope you visit me again.” Jillian smiled at Greta warmly and said, “I’d like that.” During the walk back, Mike said, “Sounds like your luncheon well went.” “The meal was wonderful, and we sat outside on the porch afterward. Ricky the raccoon came up for a treat.” Mike laughed and shook his head. “Greta names any critter that comes on her land. She has a special way of communicating with animals, and it’s been said she knows what the animals are thinking. Of course, folklore is fairly common in this part of the country.” “Mike, Greta said something today that surprised me. She suspects something is wrong at Ravenwood and said residents have become cliquish and secretive. She’s worried about the changes taking place here.” “Ellie mentioned earlier today that Greta is showing signs of dementia. Abe took her to see Dr. Adams at the medical clinic recently, and he confirmed the diagnosis. It’s too bad, but I don’t think you can take what Greta says too seriously. Ellie said sometimes her talk of secrets and conspiracy borders on paranoia.” Jillian was suspicious. “Your aunt said something similar to me, but omitted the part about dementia and paranoia. She said Greta likes to gossip and exaggerates. Quite frankly, that description doesn’t fit the woman I ate lunch with today. Greta is a kind and wise soul, and her mind is sharp. I’m sure Dr. Adams is well qualified, but maybe he’s wrong in this case.” Greta walked to her great-grandson’s house after lunch and entered through the back door, but stopped when she heard male voices coming from the living room. “Abe, things are reaching a head, and we can’t wait much longer.” “I know, but we’re almost ready, and no one suspects anything.” When they stopped talking, Greta slipped out the back door and walked home as fast as her legs would allow.

Two Days Later

Mike and Jim arrived at Beckman’s Art Supplies that morning to pick up brushes for Ellie and afterward stopped for coffee to go. As they exited the local café, a truck sped by, and the driver fired a shot, hitting Mike in the chest. Jim dropped his coffee and pulled his gun from the holster, but the shooter was driving too fast for him to get a clear shot. Still, he managed to get a partial tag number. Immediately, Jim placed an emergency call on his cell phone, and the café owner and a male customer rushed out to offer aid. “I called for an ambulance, but need a towel,” Jim said. When the owner returned with the towel, Jim held it against Mike’s wound to slow the bleeding. “Hold on buddy,” he told Mike. Within minutes, the police and medics arrived and rushed Mike to Norris Hospital. At the hospital, Ron leafed through a magazine while Ellie stared at the television screen in the waiting room, not really listening to the program. Jim wanted to be there, but knew he should stay with Jillian, so he’d driven back to Ron and Ellie’s place. The wait seemed interminable, but finally, Dr. Myers approached Ron and Ellie and updated them on Mike’s condition. “Mike’s surgery went well, and he should make a full recovery, but will remain hospitalized for several days. The bullet barely missed his heart, and if it had gone an inch either way, we’d have had a much worse conversation. Since he’ll be in ICU overnight, you should go home and try to get some rest.” “Not until we see our nephew,” Ellie said. “I promise we won’t stay but a minute.” “My wife’s a former RN,” Ron explained. “Mike is sedated and won’t know you’re here, but a nurse will notify you when he’s out of recovery,” Dr. Myers assured them. While they waited, Ron called Jim and told him Mike’s surgery had been successful. An hour later, Mike was transferred to ICU, and Ron and Ellie were permitted a brief visit. “Dr. Myers seems young to be a surgeon, but did a good job of patching up Mike, and that’s what matters,” Ron said during the drive home. Ellie wiped a tear from her eye. “When I worked as a nurse years ago, I got used to seeing patients in recovery and ICU, but it’s different when your own family members are involved.” Ron patted her hand. “Mike will be fine; try not to worry. Besides, you’ll care for him when he comes home, and no one does that as well as you.”

“What in the world is Ian doing?” Collier pushed the off button on the remote control and angrily tossed the device on the bed. He took a couple of deep breaths before calling his partner because losing his temper with Ian only made the other man even more stubborn. Ian had a tendency to get obsessed with people and certain subjects, and as a result, made unwise decisions. Collier picked up the cell phone and made the call. The phone rang five times, and he was getting ready to disconnect when Ian answered. “Ian, an FBI agent getting shot in Norris is all over the news. I’m guessing you’re the one responsible?” he said with traces of sarcasm. “Yeah, that’s right. I just returned to the hotel and planned to call. You keep saying you’re tired of waiting, so I tried hurrying things along. I figured by taking out the agents, the Feds will move her to a new location—a place besides the fortress she’s in now. The damn gun malfunctioned, so I only got off one shot before the other agent pulled his weapon.” “Why didn’t you say something beforehand? Shooting at FBI agents in the open is too risky, and it’s a wonder you didn’t get shot.” “Don’t lecture me, Collier. I never planned on the stupid gun misfiring and had everything under control until that happened.” “Ian, I get what you’re saying, but we agreed to check out other targets. I know you’d like to see this through, but you can’t be sure she has special ability. Even if she does, it’s not worth going back to the joint or getting killed. The police are searching for a dark blue Ford truck. Did you ditch it yet?” “It’s over a cliff, and the tag is phony. I hate giving up, but things have gotten too complicated. I’m staying at the Riverside Motel outside Norris and need a ride.” “It’s good we agree on this; I’ll be there in an hour.” After completing the call with Collier, Ian opened the suitcase and caressed a lacy black nightgown. No matter what Collier thinks, I know she’s psychic. He snapped the top shut on the luggage and waited for Collier to arrive.

The next day, Mike politely suggested that Ellie quit hovering, so she relented a little, but continued keeping a close watch. By mid-morning, Ellie allowed Mike to have visitors, but only briefly. Jillian sat in the chair next to the bed and held Mike’s hand. “I’ve been so worried about you.” “Ellie means well, but has a tendency to be overprotective.” “Yes, but it’s understandable, considering what happened. Ellie is timing the visits, so I can’t stay very long.” Mike grinned. “That’s my aunt, always on a time schedule.” Several minutes later, Jim stuck his head inside the door. “Feel like more company?” “Hey, pal, come in and take a seat,” Mike said. Jillian got up to leave, but Mike held onto her hand. “Don’t go.” “I’ll be back later. You and Jim should spend time together.” Mike reluctantly let go of her hand. My partner has fallen hard for her; even if he isn’t ready to admit it, Jim thought. He sat in the chair Jillian had just vacated. “You look better than expected.” “I’m doing better. Any leads on the shooter?” “I got a partial tag number from the truck, but nothing else. Don’t worry about any of this, just rest and do as your doctor advises.” “Jim, I’ve been wondering if the shooter and the person stalking Jillian are the same. If that’s true, he followed us here.” “The same thought crossed my mind, so I’m driving to headquarters tomorrow and getting the rental vehicle checked for tracking devices. Mike, you need to let me take over the case until you’re stronger.” “Ellie is guarding me like a watchdog, and she’s not going to let me do much anyway.” Jim chuckled. “I’d better leave before Ellie comes looking for me.” Three weeks later, Jillian was outside on the patio when Greta paid her an unexpected visit. “Greta, what a nice surprise!” “I stopped by to visit for a spell, if you don’t mind.” “Of course not. I’m always glad to see you,” Jillian replied genuinely. “I’m so glad Mike is OK,” Greta said. “But it’s hard to believe he got shot coming out of a coffee shop in Norris.” “It was definitely a shock.” “Jillian, there’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you privately. I waited until today because Ron and Ellie go to the town meeting that’s held the first Saturday of each month.” “This sounds serious.” “After our luncheon, I walked to Abe’s house and went in through the back door as usual. I recognized John Carpenter’s voice, and he was saying they couldn’t wait much longer. Abe replied that they were almost ready and no one suspected anything. Abe hasn’t been acting like himself lately, and I’m worried he’s mixed up in something dangerous. When I tried discussing it with him the next day, he got close-mouthed and said I was imagining things. Despite his denials, I can tell Abe is worried. This goes along with my concerns about Ravenwood and people keeping secrets. What do you make of this?” “I think all you can do at this point is be patient, because Abe won’t discuss it until he’s ready.” “That’s good advice, but I hope he lets me know something soon. I have a bad feeling.” Greta stopped talking when she saw Ron and Ellie approaching, clearly surprised at seeing them. Ellie greeted the older woman. “Why, Greta, how are you doing? The monthly meeting didn’t last long today; otherwise, we would have missed seeing you.” “Ellie, I’ll be out in the barn finishing up with work. Greta, it’s nice to see you,” Ron turned and headed to his workshop. Greta’s smile seemed forced when she said, “I stopped by to check on Mike, but I should go now.” “Are you sure you can’t stay and visit?” Ellie asked. “I have garden work, but we’ll catch up at the next committee meeting.” As soon as Greta left, Jillian went inside to see Mike.

“The old woman won’t keep her mouth shut and keeps poking around in things that don’t concern her. We can’t let it go on any longer, so make it appear that she died in her sleep like the other one. Given her age, no one will question it.” “Consider it handled.” Three days later, Ron asked Mike and Jillian to join him and Ellie in the den. It was apparent from their serious expressions that something was wrong. “We received sad news from Abe a few minutes ago,” Ron said. “Greta died in her sleep during the night.” “She’d had health issues for quite a while,” Ellie added. Jillian was noticeably upset. “I don’t understand. Greta appeared so healthy! What happened?” “Dr. Adams told Abe her heart gave out, but this shouldn’t be a surprise, considering she was almost ninety,” Ron replied. “What about funeral arrangements?” Mike asked. “Greta preferred cremation and didn’t want a memorial service, so the cremation occurred earlier this morning. Abe spread her ashes on the land and will care for the pets and goat herd.” Ellie wiped tears from her eyes. Ron put his arm around Ellie and patted her shoulder. “Ravenwood won’t be the same without Greta.” After dinner, Jillian found an opportunity to speak with Mike privately in the den while Ron and Ellie went to a get together at a neighbor’s home. “Do you remember I told you Greta came to visit me after you returned home from the hospital?” “Yes. Is something wrong?” “I didn’t mention this before, but Greta thought Abe had gotten mixed up in something dangerous. Now I’m wondering if she found out more and it put her in danger.” Mike raised a skeptical eyebrow, reaffirming his belief that Greta was paranoid like Ellie said. “What did Greta say?” Jillian’s voice was edgy when she responded. “I can tell from your facial expression you’re not keeping an open mind, so forget I said anything.” “We’ve had this conversation before, and I know you don’t want to accept Greta had dementia, but a reputable physician made the diagnosis.” Jillian felt her face getting warm, but not from embarrassment; this time, it was from anger. She didn’t care for Mike’s patronizing tone, but reminded herself he was recovering from a gunshot wound and decided to let it go. She got up from the sofa. “Do you want another cup of coffee?” Mike saw the flash of anger in her eyes and grabbed her hand when she started to walk away. “Whoa, wait a minute. Let’s discuss this.” “There’s nothing more to discuss because as you just pointed out, I’m wrong, Greta had dementia, end of story.” “What they say about redheads is true. You’ve got a temper, Jillian Spencer.” She tried pulling her hand from his grasp. “Are you going to turn me loose?” “If you stop being mad at me. I promise to keep an open mind.” Jillian sat back down on the couch. “You get a pass this once because you’re still recovering from your injury. Though no one would guess you’re in a weakened state with that grip like a steel clamp.” Mike laughed. “So, what did Greta say?” “She overheard John Carpenter tell Abe they couldn’t wait much longer, and things were coming to a head. Then Abe said they were almost ready and no one suspected anything. Greta tried to get Abe to discuss it, but he refused, and she could tell he was keeping something from her. This may sound like a senile woman’s conspiracy theory, but I’m telling you Greta was mentally sharp. Doesn’t it seem too coincidental that she tells me about her concerns and dies in her sleep a few days later? Maybe she told the story to someone else, and it got her into trouble! Granted, she was elderly, but when I last saw Greta, she appeared healthy and discussed working in her garden that afternoon. No matter what Dr. Adams said, I don’t believe Greta had dementia, and physicians can make mistakes. She had keen perception and knew I was psychic the first time we met. Her concerns about Abe and the changes occurring at Ravenwood were more than mere ramblings of an old woman. When I put the pieces together, something doesn’t fit.” “Jillian, physicians make mistakes, but Dr. Adams is well qualified, with an excellent medical reputation. Besides having a private practice in Ravenwood, he continues to perform surgeries with full hospital privileges.” “Everything you say makes sense, but I still believe there’s more to the story. First off, they wasted no time with her cremation. Even if Greta didn’t want a formal ceremony, there could have been a gathering to give her friends an opportunity to say their final goodbyes.” Mike looked Jillian squarely in the face. “Promise me you won’t discuss this with anyone else. I don’t know if your suspicions are correct, but if they are, you could put yourself in danger. Unfortunately, since Greta is already cremated, we have no way to confirm whether heart failure caused her death.” “I won’t say anything, and as you point out, it’s impossible to prove anything either way now. Still, it doesn’t keep me from wondering about the circumstances of her death.”

Two Weeks Later

“Any new leads on the shooting?” He was quick to respond no and didn’t elaborate. Why the curt tone? She wondered. “Is something wrong? You’re not very talkative.” “I need to get back to work. Jim is carrying all the case load.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “You can’t return to active duty without the doctor’s release, but it won’t be long now.” “Sorry, I don’t mean to take my sour mood out on you, but there’s nothing to report. The shooting could have been random.” Jillian considered his response and sensed there was something he wasn’t telling her. “Suppose it’s not random, and the person who murdered those women tried to kill you and is waiting to make another move. Only how did he find our location, unless he’s tracking us. What aren’t you telling me?” Mike grinned. “I should stop trying to get anything past you because it doesn’t work. I swear, it seems as if you read my mind at times.” “So, what aren’t you saying?” “Jim and I asked the same questions, so the FBI lab checked for a tracking device on the rental car and found one.” “Why did you say this was a possible random shooting?” “The shooting could be random and not related to the park murders.” Jillian pursed her lips. “What’s the probability of that being the case, especially since someone installed a tracking device on the car?” “Not much. Truthfully, I didn’t want to cause more worry.” Her demeanor softened. “Please don’t shelter me; I can handle the truth.” “Since the first time we met, I’ve been in protective mode, but you’re right, I shouldn’t withhold information.” “What about relocating to a safe house?” “Ravenwood is the safest place for now. This maniac may be waiting to make another move as you suggested. Let’s put this aside and discuss something pleasant.” “What do you want to discuss?” “Tell me about your childhood. You never talk about it.” “OK, but you first.” He gave her a rushed biography. “There’s not that much to tell. Mom was a pretty, slender woman with brown hair and brown eyes. Dad was tall, and everyone who knew us said we looked alike. My parents met at college, fell in love, and married shortly after graduation. I arrived three years later and was an only child. They died in a boating accident when I was fourteen, so I came here to live with Ron and Ellie. After graduating from college, I went to Quantico, and became an FBI agent. Now it’s your turn.” “I had an ideal childhood until my parents separated when I was seven. They divorced several months later. My father married his mistress, Jolene Walker, who I compared to a witch because of her black hair and heavy makeup. After that, he spent most of his free time with Jolene, and I seldom got to see him. I always felt responsible for my parents’ divorce because I told my mother Jolene loved my father. At the time, she wasn’t aware of their affair.” “How did you know Jolene loved your father?” “The way she smiled at him when my mother wasn’t paying attention. She was a supposed friend of my mother and often visited our house. I was too young to know how it would affect my parents’ marriage when I blurted it out to my mother.” “You were just a child, none of it was your fault. Most likely, other things contributed to their divorce, too.” “What I said to my mother made her suspicious of the affair, but you’re right, there were already problems in their marriage. When I was old enough to understand, my grandmother explained that my father had wandering eyes, and Jolene Walker wasn’t his first fling. She said my mother tried to make it work, but my father was incapable of being faithful to one woman. Sometimes people aren’t meant to be together, and I believe that was the case with my parents. However, after that, I wasn’t as outspoken about my perceptions of others.” “Whatever happened with your father and Jolene?” “A year later, they died in an automobile accident coming home from a party, and alcohol was a factor. My mother married Mark Stevens two years later—a successful attorney, wonderful husband, and loving stepfather. He died from a heart attack a few years ago, and my mother died from cancer a year later. And I’m also an only child.” “Do you look like either of your parents?” “I inherited my maternal grandmother’s Irish genes, with the same hair and eye coloring and similar facial features. Mother used to say I’m a carbon copy of Grandmother Kathleen.” “Were you close to your grandparents?” “Yes, very close. They owned a farm, and I had such fun there. My grandfather taught me to ride and gave me a pony on my eighth birthday, and Grandmother let me feed the chickens and help with other farm chores.” Jillian paused when the memory of a cantankerous goose came to mind. “I never cared much, though, for a goose named Matilda. I thought that was a silly name for a goose. Grandmother liked Matilda, and the goose had become a family pet, but for some inexplicable reason, Matilda disliked me. She’d sneak up behind me and peck at the back of my legs every time I went outside. My grandmother told me to swat at Matilda when she did that, but it didn’t stop her from going after me. I learned to keep my distance from that ornery goose and tried to outrun her when she came too close. One day, my grandfather saw what Matilda was doing, so he grabbed a broom and lit out after her, yelling, ‘Leave my granddaughter alone or you’ll be the main course come Thanksgiving!’” Mike burst out laughing. “That’s hilarious, Jillian.” She snickered. “I can laugh about it now, but not then.” “What happened to the farm?” “After my grandparents died, it was sold in an estate sale.” Jillian stretched her arms overhead, linking her fingers together, and a soft breeze ruffled her hair. She changed the subject. “The sky looks as if it might rain. I wonder if rain is predicted for today?” When Mike didn’t respond, she looked at him and said, “You’re not listening to me.” He grinned mischievously, noticing how the T-shirt tugged at her firm, full breasts when she stretched her arms. “Nope, not a word. I could lie and make up a lame reason, but that’s not my style. I’m preoccupied with admiring the view.” Jillian’s cheeks warmed. I’m blushing yet again. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, but I’m only human.” Her eyes, every smile, and every move seduced him, and she was a fire he yearned to touch. He lowered his head slowly, wondering if she would object, but instead she parted her lips slightly, inviting him to kiss her. When their lips touched, the heat burned through him, and the kiss deepened, but then a certain feline jumped up on the chaise and meowed. “Darn cat.” Jillian laughed. “I’m sorry, but Marcus likes you and is being friendly.” The interruption caused Mike to reconsider his actions, and logic won out over impulsiveness. “Jillian, I like you, and it’s not easy keeping my objectivity because you’re so beautiful and sexy. But I can’t get too distracted. My main priority is keeping you safe. Do you understand?” Jillian had never considered herself sexy, and Mike’s remark surprised her. “Yes, and you’ve probably figured out I like you, too. But you’re right, we can’t get carried away.” She smiled at him and her eyes seemed to sparkle. “I should probably go check with Ellie and see if she needs any help.” He gazed after her as she walked away. That night, Jillian lay in bed listening to the sound of rain falling on the tin roof. Usually that lulled her to sleep, but not this time. After a while, the light rain turned into a heavy downpour, and the memory of Mike’s kiss continued to dominate her thoughts. Why am I having so much trouble sleeping tonight? Get a grip, Jillian, it was a kiss, not a proposal. Exasperated, she sat up and turned on the bedside lamp, and noticed the partly drawn shade. She got out of bed to close it and eyed a book Ellie had left on the dresser. She picked it up and read the title: The Corpse in the Attic. The jacket cover described the story as a suspenseful thriller. “A murder mystery,” she mumbled. “I would’ve expected Ellie to read about gardening or cooking, not murder.” Putting the book down, she said, still to no one, “I may as well get up, because I’m not getting back to sleep anytime soon.” Mike glanced up from his reading when Jillian entered the kitchen. “Is everything OK?” A slight blush touched her cheeks. “I wanted a cup of Darjeeling tea. You’re up late too.” Mike drank the last swig of coffee in the cup. “I was reading this book and decided to make coffee.” Jillian opened the tea canister on the countertop and put a small scoop of loose leaf tea in the pot to brew. At that moment, the back door opened and closed, and Mike morphed into FBI mode. “Jillian, I’m taking you back upstairs to your room while I check this out.” Just then, Ron and Ellie walked into the kitchen. “We saw the light on and wondered who was awake,” Ron said. Jillian breathed a sigh of relief. “You gave me a start,” Mike replied. “I thought you were intruders. It’s two in the morning; why are you up so late?” Ron chortled. “I could ask you the same thing. We were sitting on the porch listening to the rain, which we like to do at times.” “The rain cooled things off,” Ellie added. “Well, good night now.” Jillian suspected they had omitted something from their response. She poured tea into a mug thinking, It’s way past Ellie’s bedtime. Then, brushing aside the prickly feeling of suspicion she was getting, rationalized, I guess you never get too old for romance—they were sharing a moment. After Ron and Ellie left the kitchen, Jillian said, “I’ll take the tea to my room so you can get back to your book.” “It can wait until tomorrow.” He flipped the kitchen light off as they headed upstairs.

Three Weeks Later

“Look how bright the moon is tonight,” Jillian said. Mike glanced upward. “Yes, it is. I spoke with Jim earlier today, and provided Dr. Myers releases me tomorrow, we’ll meet up at Crystal Lake to continue the investigation. Since I’ve been off from work, Jim’s been in the field following possible leads, but hasn’t come up with anything new.” Jillian had anticipated Mike would return to work soon and knew she’d be well-guarded during his absence, but staying at Ravenwood without him would not be easy. “Why don’t you and Jim work from my cottage?” “I appreciate the offer, but we’re accustomed to living out of suitcases.” “Please, let me do this for you and Jim.” “Thank you, Jillian. I’m sure Jim will appreciate it too.” Mike suddenly became quiet. “You seem to have something weighing on your mind tonight,” Jillian prodded. “I’ve always kept my professional life separate from my personal life, but I can’t do that with you. To be honest, I care a great deal for you and can only hope you share my feelings.” Jillian’s eyes were moist when she murmured, “I feel the same way.” He lowered his mouth to hers, and the taste of her lips was so enticing, he wanted to linger there forever. “Mike, Jillian, are you outside?” Ellie called to them through the screen door. They quickly pulled apart. “Yes,” Mike uttered. Ellie opened the door and said, “Ron made hand-churned ice cream.” “We’ll be right there.” Mike had a gleam of laughter in his eyes when he leaned over and whispered, “My aunt almost caught us making out.” Jillian snickered as they got up from the porch swing and went inside. The following day, Mike sat in the exam room waiting for Dr. Myers to complete his physical evaluation. After making a note on the medical chart, Dr. Myers said, “Mike, you’re in excellent shape and ready to return to work with no restrictions. Try not to stop any more bullets.” “That’s the plan. Thanks for everything, Dr. Myers.” Mike called Jim from his car. “I’m cleared for work and heading to Crystal Lake as we speak. Jillian suggested we stay at the cottage.” “Good deal; I’ll pick up two steaks to grill for dinner.” “I’ll bring a bottle of wine.” After concluding the call, Mike phoned Jillian.

Jim swallowed the piece of toast in his mouth and said, “We must have overlooked something about the case, but what?” “I’ve been wondering the same thing. How does this guy stay so elusive? Sooner or later, he’s got to make a mistake.” Mike started to say more, but a call came in on his cell phone. “Mike, it’s Sheriff Cooper. We got a break in the case.” “Just a second sheriff while I switch the phone to speaker so Jim can hear.” Mike paused briefly. “OK, go ahead.” “This morning, a woman called and reported a neighbor’s German Shepherd barking nonstop in the backyard. Her neighbor was a young woman who lived alone and usually kept the dog indoors. The caller asked the police to check it out, and when the patrol car approached the house, a man bolted out the front door and took off running. No doubt the dog prevented him from escaping out the back door. Officers cornered him a short distance away, where he’d left his car. Shots were exchanged, and he was killed in the crossfire. His name was Collier Davis, and he got paroled two years ago after serving time for robbery, assault, and attempted murder. Except for the park setting, the crime scene is identical to the other two, including the typed note with the same message. The victim must’ve fought back really hard because he had scratches on his face and bites on his wrist and arm. That’s probably why he murdered the woman in the home instead of transporting her to a park.” “Wow! Jim and I were discussing the lack of progress in the case when you called. I know we’re all glad to wrap up this one. Thanks, sheriff, for your assistance with the case. I’ll be in touch soon.” “Yes, thanks, sheriff,” Jim added. “My department’s glad to help.” “After all the time we’ve spent looking for the park serial killer, a barking dog leads to his capture,” Mike said after he ended the call. “Yeah, the creep picked the wrong house this time. Let’s call headquarters and pack our bags.” “I’m driving back to my uncle’s place to tell Jillian in person. You probably want to head straight home, but you’re welcome to come with me.” “No, thanks. I’m going home to my wife and kids and plan to spend every minute of the next few days with my family. And the first thing I plan to do is unlock my wife’s chastity belt.” Mike laughed. “Tell Jillian I said thanks for her hospitality. Now that the case is over, there’s nothing keeping you from seeing her socially, or whatever,” Jim teased. “My thoughts exactly,” Mike said as they headed out the door.

“Apple pie is one of Mike’s favorite desserts. Too bad he’s not here with us to enjoy it.” Ellie saw how Jillian’s eyes lit up at the mention of Mike’s name. “You’re rather fond of my nephew aren’t you?” “Why yes, I’m appreciative of both Mike and Jim for keeping me safe.” Ellie smiled. “Anything else? Mike gazes at you when you’re not aware, and you do the same thing with him. This seems more than friendship and gratitude.” Jillian wasn’t sure how to respond to Ellie’s comment and hesitated to say anything. Ellie patted her hand. “I don’t mean to embarrass you, but Mike is a good catch. Not only is he handsome, but he’s smart, loyal, and cares for you. He’s totally smitten.” Jillian’s smile said it all, and satisfied with her response, Ellie dropped the subject. In her opinion, Mike and Jillian made a perfect couple, and she wanted her nephew to settle down and marry. She placed the peeled apples in a colander and rinsed them off in the kitchen sink, humming all the while. Jillian remained seated on the back porch, mulling over what Ellie said. An hour later, Mike came bursting into his aunt’s kitchen and greeted Jillian and Ellie with a big smile. Seeing their startled expressions, he announced, “Collier Davis, the man who committed the park murders, is dead. He was killed this morning in a shootout with police.” “I’m speechless,” Jillian said, stunned. “Come with me.” Mike took Jillian’s hand and led her out the back door while Ellie went to find Ron and give him the good news. Once they reached the back porch, Mike enveloped Jillian in his arms and kissed her passionately. Then he pulled back and said, “I love you.” She caught her breath and smiled radiantly. “I love you too. The nightmare has finally ended.” “Yes, and now we can get on with our lives.”

Two Months Later

Jim’s wife, Sharon, was matron of honor and eye-catching in a lavender gown, which complemented her dark hair and brown eyes. Mike wore a traditional black tuxedo as did Jim, his best man. Ellie styled Jillian’s hair in an upward sweep, and Ron escorted her down the aisle. She looked exquisite in the floor-length, satin wedding gown and lace veil with applique edging. Mike and Jillian included their own words in their vows, and after exchanging wedding rings, Reverend Grove pronounced them husband and wife. Mike kissed Jillian and swept her up in his arms to carry her down the aisle. Once outside, wedding guests threw rice at the bride and groom in celebration of their marriage. Following the ceremony, Ron and Ellie hosted a wedding reception at the Ravenwood Community Center. Ellie had made a traditional four-tier wedding cake with bride and groom figures on top, and several community women helped with decorations. Mike and Jillian danced first to a wedding waltz, after which the music became livelier, and other couples joined them on the dance floor. After the reception, Mike and Jillian drove to Connor’s Inn, a two-story, authentic early American home converted to a bed and breakfast by the current owners. They registered at the front desk as Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds, and a short, wiry-looking man with a bald head carried their bags to the honeymoon suite. The gray-blue walls of their room created a period-appropriate background for the camelback sofa and other antique pieces and accessories. A large, handcrafted poster bed stood center of the room, and a vase of roses sat atop the dresser. Mike spied the champagne on ice, and a tray of cheese and fruit on the coffee table. He handed the gift card to Jillian and uncorked the bottle. She read the message aloud, “Best wishes from your friends, Jim and Sharon. How thoughtful.” Mike filled two glasses with the Dom Perignon, and they toasted to their marriage and future happiness. They sipped the champagne and when their eyes locked, he took the glass from her hand and placed it on the table next to his. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, where he slowly undressed her. He kissed her tenderly at first, and when his mouth demanded more, she could do nothing but surrender. Caught up in wild abandonment and consumed by desire, their bodies melded together in perfect rhythm. They spent the night making love, sipping champagne, and in the early morning hours, they slept, blissfully happy. On the third day of their honeymoon, they decided to tour the general area and take in the sights. Mike drove the scenic route advertised in a brochure while Jillian snapped pictures. Along the way, they went past nineteenth century farms, an old country church, and other historical sights of rural America. At one point, Mike pulled off to the side of the road so Jillian could take pictures of an old covered bridge. “This place looks like it’s taken from a Currier and Ives painting!” she exclaimed. He watched her capture images with the camera, and when she finished, said, “I have a special place to show you that’s just up the road.” Within a few minutes, Mike pulled into the parking lot of the Pickford Gallery. “My parents brought me here once, and it doesn’t seem to have changed much.” A large botanical wreath hung over the entrance of the old log structure with red shutters and a red tin roof. The inside of the gallery was just as inviting and displayed paintings in various mediums on the cream-colored walls. Jillian’s eyes rested on a watercolor of an Irish countryside with a thatched roof cottage surrounded by a field of heather. They walked through the gallery and admired other art, but that one was her favorite. Before exiting, Jillian stopped and admired the Irish countryside watercolor again. “It’s a nice piece,” Mike said. “The painting is lovely.” “We should buy it for the brownstone; the place needs artwork.” Jillian read the price. “Seven thousand dollars seems extravagant.” “It will be our wedding present to each other.” “In that case, it would look nice hung above the fireplace in our bedroom.” Mike smiled at Jillian’s expression, which reminded him of a child unwrapping a present on Christmas morning. “That sounds like the perfect place for our painting,” he replied. ** **

The mahogany front door with etched glass and transom provided an elegant entrance to the circa 1860 home. As they walked into the foyer, skylights drenched the graceful curved staircase in natural light. And in spite of the stateliness, the minute Jillian stepped inside, the brownstone felt like home. Their first night back, they ate Chinese takeout while Marcus kept busy exploring the new accommodations. Jillian sampled the cashew chicken she held between two chopsticks and looked at Mike with curiosity. “You told me about this home you inherited, but waited until after our engagement before mentioning the inheritance from your parents. I hope you realize I married you for your sexy bod, not the money.” A smile curled the corners of Mike’s mouth. “You’re not materialistic in the least, but I’m glad you like my ‘bod’ as you put it. I don’t talk about the money much because people would view me differently. Other than Jim, none of the other agents know about it.” “Mike, you’re anything but pretentious. Even though you don’t need to work, you’re a dedicated FBI agent who hunts criminals to make the world a safer place.” “I’m not as perfect as you make me sound. It’s ironic the way things turn out sometimes. My father was a self-made millionaire and expected me to head the family business one day. If he hadn’t died when he did, that may well have been the case. My aunt and uncle preferred a simpler lifestyle than my parents and time spent at their farm gave me a different perspective on what I wanted from life.” “Do you ever regret not following in your father’s footsteps?” “No regrets. Seriously, though, I promised my aunt not to sell the brownstone, I never agreed to live in it. If you think it’s too much, say the word and we’re gone.” “Who wouldn’t want to live here? It’s beautiful, but not overly imposing. Granted, it’s larger than what we need for now, but the space will be just right once we add to our family. And then there’s the lake cottage for weekends.” “Jillian, are you wanting to start a family right away?” “No, I was referring to someday,” she chuckled. “We agreed to wait awhile before rushing into parenthood.” “Did I say how much I love you today?” “Yes, but you can tell me again.” Mike’s eyes were smoldering. “There’s a better place to discuss this.” Jillian was in a playful mood and her mouth upturned slightly. “I bet there are a lot of places in this house.” She stood and removed her T-shirt, jeans, and sandals, then tossed them on the floor. “But you must catch me first.” She laughed and took off running. Mike caught up to her, swept her up in his arms, and ascended the staircase to their bedroom.

One Month Later

Jillian returned from shopping that morning and found Mike in the den speaking to someone on the phone. From the sound of the conversation, she gathered it was work. Mike ended the call and saw her standing in the doorway. “Babe, I didn’t hear you come home. Did you and Charlotte have fun shopping?” “I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation. We’re good window shoppers, but neither of us bought anything.” She sat beside him on the sofa and propped her feet up on the ottoman. “Jim called to discuss a new assignment that will involve out-of-state travel, but it won’t affect our hiking trip. We’ll leave as planned tomorrow.” “Our first hiking jaunt together, and neither of us have been to Cutter’s Trail. If we have time, I would like to visit the town’s arts and crafts fair. I was reading the travel brochure, and apparently it’s an annual event that draws a lot of tourists.” “We should have plenty of time to do both.” Mike reached over and squeezed Jillian’s hand. “I predict this will be a memorable weekend. Any suggestions for dinner? I’m starting to get hungry.” “I planned on making spaghetti and meatballs, which happens to be one of my edible dishes.” Mike laughed. “You’re a better cook than you realize and getting better all the time.” “Well, thank you. Ellie taught me the basics, but compared to her cooking, I’m average at best. My mother was an excellent cook also, but I never showed any interest in cooking or sewing, so she didn’t pressure me to learn. I was more of a tomboy and preferred climbing trees.” Mike put his arm around her shoulders. “I bet you were the cutest tomboy on the block. Ellie’s been cooking a lot longer, so don’t underestimate your abilities. Come on, I’ll help with dinner. You make the spaghetti, and I’ll prepare the salad.” She smiled brightly. “You’re good for a girl’s ego, Mike Reynolds.” The following morning, they left Marcus with Ron and Ellie and drove to Cutter’s Trail, which was known for spectacular views, but recommended for experienced hikers. Two hours later, they arrived at the Wayfare Inn and registered at the front desk. From the outside, the inn resembled a ski resort, but the interior was more contemporary in design. Mike stood looking out the window of their suite. “Babe, you’ve got to see this; the view is amazing.” Jillian stood next to Mike and gazed at the surrounding scenery. The powder-blue sky with billowy white clouds appeared to touch the top of the mountain and made for a breathtaking vista. “It’s absolutely gorgeous.” “Do you want to drive into town and sample the local cuisine for lunch then check out the festival?” “Yes, that sounds great.” They stopped at a small café for lunch and afterward, walked around the town square looking at the craft booths. Vendors displayed handmade pottery, knives, and many other items. When a crowd of people gathered around a country band playing music in the square, they stopped to listen before driving back to the inn. Jillian awoke the next morning before Mike, which wasn’t often the case. But then, they had stayed up late the previous night. She smiled, remembering how sweet and romantic he had been. Mike opened his eyes and saw Jillian standing at the window. “Hi, beautiful.” She turned toward the bed. “Sorry, I tried to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake you.” “It’s time to get up anyway; we have a busy day ahead.” “Coffee’s ready.” She filled two cups and sat beside him on the bed. “Thanks, baby.” He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “You’re up early.” “I woke a few minutes ago.” Mike picked up his cell phone and clicked on the weather icon. “Moderate temperatures today, overcast, with low humidity, and only a slight chance of showers. Sounds like perfect hiking weather.”

Ian hid behind a cluster of trees and almost dropped the coffee thermos when Mike and Jillian exited the inn dressed like hikers and started toward the trail sign. It doesn’t get any easier than this—they’re climbing Cutter’s Trail. I’ll hang back so she doesn’t sense my presence. He peered through the binoculars at the couple walking side by side and murmured, "Enjoy your time together, because it won’t last long."

Mike pointed to a nearby tree. “That’s a pileated woodpecker, uncommon in these parts. They’re easy to spot by the red crest and exotic-sounding call, similar to a jungle bird.” Jillian snapped pictures as the bird flew off, exposing a large band of white feathers on its otherwise black wings. “I wasn’t aware you knew so much about birds,” she commented. “I’m not all that knowledgeable, but learned a few things from Ellie’s bird book on the Appalachians and other regions.” An hour later, an eagle flew overhead, and Jillian quickly captured its flight on camera. She smiled broadly, pleased with the picture she had just taken of the splendid bird. “What luck, getting that shot!” Mike also grinned. “A perfect day.” Midway through their hike, they stopped to rest, and found a shady spot near a tree. Mike pulled a blanket from his backpack and spread it on the ground while Jillian removed food and bottled water from the other pack. Suddenly, a bee buzzed overhead, causing her to jump. “Be still, and the bee won’t sting,” Mike advised. Despite his warning, Jillian instinctively moved when the bee started for her again, and took off running, then circled back. Mike laughed as he said, “I didn’t know you could run that fast.” She grinned. “I had motivation.” After eating their sandwiches and fruit, they stretched out on the blanket to rest before starting the hike again. “I expected to see a few other hikers, but we haven’t seen one,” Mike observed. “But maybe they’re in town since it’s the last day of the fair.” Suddenly, Jillian experienced a sense of urgency to leave and noticed Mike staring at the sky. “Is something wrong?” she asked. “More clouds are setting in, and the weather around here can change without warning. We should probably head back soon.” Jillian saw tall clouds flattening out on top and started gathering their belongings. “We need to hurry.” “I don’t think there’s reason for concern,” Mike said, but then he saw Jillian’s frightened expression and helped her. Thirty minutes into the walk, the afternoon breeze developed into a stronger wind, and the sky darkened as the storm headed in their direction. “Too bad we didn’t bring umbrellas, because rain is definitely on the way,” Mike joked, hoping to lighten the mood. He started to say something else when lightning streaked across the sky, and strong gusts of wind lashed violently against the trees. “Come on, we have to find cover.” Mike grabbed Jillian’s hand, and the smell of the storm engulfed them as they plodded forward. The high winds eventually subsided, but the rain continued. Mike managed to find a hollow space in the side of the mountain where they could take shelter. “It’s too dangerous to walk on the trail in this weather. We’ll have to camp here tonight.” “It’s a good thing we brought sleeping bags and a change of clothing,” Jillian said, trying to make the best of the situation. “I learned from Ron to be prepared for emergencies in the wilderness. Here it is, our first hiking trip together, and we get caught in typhoon-like weather.” Jillian grinned. “I’m just glad I married a man with good survival skills.” “I will always do my best to protect you, sweetheart.” Exhausted from the hike and fighting their way through the storm, they changed into dry clothes, stretched out in the sleeping bags, and dozed. When they woke, it was completely dark outside, so Mike switched on his flashlight, and they ate the leftovers from lunch. Afterward, Jillian snuggled next to Mike. “I shudder to think what might have happened to us today.” “We’re lucky the storm wasn’t any worse.” She yawned, then remarked, “Even though we napped earlier, I’m still tired.” She checked their canteens and found both empty. “We need to refill these in the morning.” “The creek we found on the trail is close by; I can fill them now,” Mike offered. Jillian stretched her arms out and yawned again. “Thanks, but it’s not necessary. Tomorrow morning is soon enough.” Mike leaned over and kissed her briefly, and they soon fell back to sleep. They awakened in the early hours before dawn to an eerie noise that sounded like a wild cat, but also like screams. Worriedly, Jillian asked, “Mike, what’s making that awful sound?” “A cougar, or mountain lion as they’re also called. They were considered extinct in this region years back, but they’ve returned in recent times. There are Appalachian stories of big cats following their prey for miles before attacking, and people swear the animal sounds like a woman screaming.” “That’s frightening. Does that mean they’re following us?” He pulled her close to comfort her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Cougars aren’t known to attack humans unless they’re threatened or provoked. The cats are most active dusk to dawn, but sometimes travel and hunt during the day. Adult cats prey on deer, elk, and wild sheep, but deer are their preferred prey. Young cougars hunt raccoons, coyotes, and rabbits. We’re not on their menu. Do you think you can go back to sleep now?” "Jillian nodded her head in response. Later in the morning, Jillian woke up feeling parched and decided to walk to the stream and refill their canteens. There’s no point in waking Mike, and besides, it’s no more than five minutes away and right next to the trail, she reasoned. As she neared the stream, she sensed a dark presence close by, and not daring to look back, she quickly headed in the opposite direction. “Stop or I’ll put a bullet in your back,” a loud voice bellowed. Momentarily, she considered running away, but heard the click of a gun and stopped. When she turned around, she saw a man pointing a rifle at her, and his eyes burned through Jillian, causing her to cringe. Right away she recognized the man walking toward her. “If you want to live, do as I tell you.” He grabbed for her arm, and at the same time, Jillian kicked at him and connected near the groin, causing him to drop the gun. However, the kick wasn’t hard enough to do any serious damage and only angered him. When she tried to wrest free from his grip, he swung hard and knocked her out. During the fall, she hit her head on a large jagged rock, and the laceration bled profusely. After the altercation, he slung her over his shoulder and carried her off into the woods, all the while spewing obscenities. Mike woke an hour later, flexed his arms, and looked over at Jillian’s empty sleeping bag. He went outside, expecting to find her, and became concerned when she was nowhere in sight. After searching the general vicinity and calling out to her, he remembered she’d mentioned they needed to refill their canteens. “I bet she’s getting water,” he said aloud and headed to the stream. Near the creek, Mike found their empty canteens on the ground and spied a red stain on a rock a few feet away. Closer inspection confirmed it was blood. Jillian would have stayed on the trail and not wandered into wooded areas, so she can’t be far from here. He quickly searched the area, then went back to the campsite in case she had returned. She was nowhere in sight, and her cell phone was laying on top of a backpack. Mike hiked back down the trail thinking that with luck, he would be able to pick up a signal and call for help. Half an hour later, he placed an emergency call to local police, explained what had happened, and requested a search party. Next, he phoned Jim and Ron. Ron, Jim, and volunteers from Ravenwood arrived two hours later and joined the search party, but they were not alone. A huge cougar paused at the spot where Jillian had cut her head before it continued on its hunt.

After several hours passed, Jillian woke up briefly, but her vision blurred, and her headache was so intense, she closed her eyes and fell back to sleep. The delay in plans irritated Ian, but in the meantime, the cave he’d scouted out the day before provided adequate shelter. Jillian awoke four hours later, still dizzy, and the pain had not lessened. She touched her forehead and felt the bandage, but still disoriented, drifted in and out of sleep. By the following afternoon, she gradually focused on her surroundings, and the pain was now more of a dull ache. As things became clearer, panic rose in her throat, but then she remembered Greta telling her to embrace her psychic gift. She garnered the courage to face her captor, and looking up at the man standing over her, simply said, “Charlie.” Ian’s facial expression showed his surprise, and then a memory circled his mind. “You’re the scrawny kid with the strange eyes who used to live next door.” “My mother said you went to prison.” “Yeah, that’s right. Here, eat this,” Ian ordered, tossing her a sandwich and bottled water. Obsessed with learning more about Jillian’s psychic ability, he wanted her to recover enough to answer his questions. After that, he would have no further use for her. Jillian drank the water and ate the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which helped ease the gnawing sensation caused from hunger and thirst. “Charlie was the alias I used years ago to hide from the cops—Ian Keller is my true name.” His self-satisfied grin switched to a frown. “Why did you make weird faces at me when you were a kid?” “I sensed you did bad things.” Jillian stared at his eyes and thought, A heartless monster incapable of change. Born dark and remained so. She continued staring, and a clear picture came to mind. “You tried to develop psychic ability, but without success.” She also knew had he been successful, he would have used it for dark purposes. Jillian had validated his belief in her. “I told Collier you’re psychic. You knew I was in the candle shop and on the pier. How could you tell?” “Negativity and darkness surrounded both areas.” “What else do you sense about me?” “Your parents provided a stable home life and were always kind, but you didn’t return their affection.” “Sometimes I wondered about that, but realized I’m just this way, always have been. My parents led boring lives, and I never wanted to be like them. Controlling whether someone lives or dies is a powerful thing, and regular people can’t imagine the rush. Collier Davis and I met in prison and recognized each other as kindred spirits because both of us enjoyed the hunt and the kill. Collier got out of prison first, but we reconnected after my parole. We worked as a team and planned the murders together until he went out on his own after our disagreement. I think Collier wanted to prove something to himself, and for whatever reason, murdered that woman in her home instead of a park. His downfall was not sticking to the routine, so when the cops caught up to him, he got killed during a shootout. We considered killing you and the other woman that morning in the park, but the police arrived too soon. I’m the one who broke into your house and left the picture on the pantry shelf while Collier kept lookout. That’s when Collier and I put a tracking device in the rental and SUV. The authorities assumed Collier worked alone in the murders, so after he died, I added a device to your husband’s car and began tracking both of you.” “You shot Mike to draw us out from Ravenwood.” “Yeah, but it didn’t work, so Collier getting caught by the police worked to my advantage. It was assumed there was no longer a threat, so you and your FBI man came out into the open.” Ian’s mouth twisted into an ugly sneer. “Why are you staring at me? Tell me what you see.” Ian’s fate became clear to Jillian, and she no longer feared him. “You could have walked away without being tied to the murders, but your compulsion to kill controls you. I see an empty shell of a man who will soon face his own death.” Stunned by this revelation, Ian rubbed his forehead, trying to rid himself of the brain fog. After a few minutes, he said, “Enough of the mumbo jumbo.” Pulling a switchblade from his pocket, he waved it in the air. Ian planned to torment Jillian before completing the murder, but she didn’t act afraid of him, and that was unnerving. “You seem awfully calm for a woman who’s about to be murdered,” he said. “I have no reason to fear you.” At that same moment, a cougar approached Ian from behind, moving quietly, yet swiftly. Jillian stared at the beautiful golden-brown eyes and sensed the cougar wouldn’t hurt her, because she was never the animal’s prey. “Why do you keep staring like that?” Ian’s voice sounded nervous and his speech became rapid. The cougar sprang onto Ian’s back and bit into his head and neck. The cat continued tearing into him, but he didn’t die right away and screamed in agony. It was a gruesome scene to witness. After Ian died, the cougar roared, triumphant in the hunt, and left. Jillian had felt immobilized while the cougar attacked Ian, and everything appeared surreal. She glimpsed Ian’s mangled corpse on the ground and thought, He murdered people for sport, and like his victims, suffered greatly before dying. Once she could redirect her thoughts to survival, she removed the contents from his backpack. One protein bar, a peanut butter sandwich, and a bottled water was not much, but it would have to do. Jillian turned away from the bloody, lifeless body, and blocked out all emotion and memory of Ian’s death. Still weak, she walked out of the cave and trudged ahead, but after a while, the landscape looked alike. Jillian sat under a tree, intending to rest a few minutes, but gave into exhaustion and slept through the night. When Jillian woke the next day, she wandered in the woods, disoriented, for what seemed like an eternity, trying to find the hiking trail. At one point, she lost her footing, causing her to slide over the side of a cliff onto a ledge. She mustered the strength to climb the short distance back up, but in doing so, spent her remaining energy and collapsed on the ground. Jillian closed her eyes and heard a cougar’s roar in the distance as she drifted off to sleep.

Willow Brook was a small village located three miles from the Wayfare Inn; a scenic area surrounded by dense forest and untouched by pollutants. Like Clyde and Joe, most of its residents were born and raised in the village, worked hard, and led fairly uneventful lives. Nell Fuller, often called the Weed Lady, was well known in the village for medicinal herbs and cures. She was a tall, spindly woman, seventy-eight years old, but spry for her age. She wore her hair in a long braid, and a straw hat covered her head that day while she harvested herbs. Nell looked up from her garden when Clyde and Joe pulled up into the driveway, got out of the vehicle, and approached. Nell stood and wiped the sweat from her brow. “Who do we have here, boys?” she asked, referring to the woman Clyde carried in his arms. “We found her in the woods,” he replied. Nell waved her hand for them to follow. “Bring her into my cabin and take her to the first bedroom down the hall.” After Clyde laid her on the bed, Nell examined the woman and pointed to a swollen red bite on her neck. “A tick is still embedded, so I’ll remove it and check for others. Poor thing’s got a raging fever, most likely mountain fever, and the gash on her head is infected and needs stitching. She looks half starved.” “Can you do anything to help her?” Joe asked. “I’ll do my best, but can’t promise anything. Even if she survives, the fever can cause long-term side effects.” Nell wet a washcloth and wiped the dirt away from the woman’s face, neck, and arms before removing the tick. “She’s in need of a bath, but it will have to wait until I tend to the head wound.” After Clyde and Joe left, Nell cleansed and sutured the wound, then applied a dressing. She retrieved a soothing salve and a special blend of herbal tea from the kitchen and tended to the woman throughout the night. The woman was partially conscious at times, and Nell used an eyedropper to dispense the tea mixture in small amounts. By early morning, the fever broke.

DNA tests indicated the blood on the rag matched Jillian Reynold’s DNA, and forensics confirmed Ian Keller was the person who died from the animal attack. The FBI continued searching for Jillian, but after ten days, called off the search. They concluded that the cat had also attacked Jillian and dragged her body off into the mountains. Mike didn’t accept the FBI’s findings and conclusions and took a personal leave of absence from work to continue searching for his wife. Jim and Ron remained behind to help, but after another week passed, they convinced Mike that Jillian couldn’t survive in the wilderness that long. It was time to let her go. The Ravenwood Chapel held a memorial service for Jillian Spencer Reynolds on a dreary, overcast, Saturday afternoon. Mike sat in the first pew with Ron and Ellie on either side of him, but felt detached, as if someone else was listening to his wife’s eulogy. Family and friends offered words of comfort, but a part of Mike refused to believe Jillian was dead. Lines of grief etched his face, and memories of her washed over him. Come back to me, Jillian, he pleaded silently. Heartbroken, Mike returned to his home in Alexandria following the service. He needed time to himself, time to grieve, and time to heal. He had vowed to keep Jillian safe, and having failed to do that, suffered guilt over her death. Three weeks later, Jim visited Mike at his brownstone, and they spent the afternoon together. Mike refrained from mentioning Jillian’s name even once, and Jim worried he was internalizing the heartbreak and not dealing with his loss. “Mike, I know you’re grieving over losing Jillian, but is there anything you want to discuss?” “Thanks, but nothing will change the fact that I slept when my wife needed me. Jillian trusted me to protect her, but I failed.” “Mike, you want to take care of people and protect them—that’s why you joined the FBI. None of what happened is your fault, and Jillian would never want you to blame yourself. Blaming yourself doesn’t change anything and serves no purpose.” Mike considered what Jim had said for several minutes before replying. “Logically, I know you’re right, but I keep playing the ‘what if’ game in my mind.” “Getting back to work might help.” “I’m not ready to return to work and don’t know if I ever will be.” Jim stood up and patted Mike on the shoulder. “Give yourself some time; you’ll come back when you’re ready. I need to leave now, but we’ll talk again soon. You know Sharon and I want you to stay with us for a while. Sometimes a change in scenery helps.” “I appreciate the invitation, but I can’t do that right now. Thank Sharon for me.” Mike stood at the front door, watching as Jim drove away. Two more weeks passed, and Mike decided it was time to call Jim. He took a deep breath before picking up the phone, as this was one call he dreaded making. Jim answered on the second ring. “Mike, it’s good to hear from you. I hope you’re calling to tell me you’re ready to return to work. I miss my partner.” “Sorry, Jim, I called to let you know I’m still undecided about work. I’ll speak to the captain, and he may think it’s best for the Bureau, and me, if I resign.” “The captain won’t ask for your badge; you’re too good of an agent, and we need you on the team.” “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I wouldn’t be of use to the Bureau right now. I know Jillian wouldn’t want me to blame myself for what happened, and I’m working on moving past the guilt.” “Take whatever time is needed, but I still believe you’ll find your way back to the Bureau.” After concluding the call, Mike looked over at Marcus stretched out on the sofa beside him and petted his head. Jillian’s cat had sat by the front window for weeks following her disappearance, waiting for her to return. Then one day, Marcus realized she wasn’t coming back and quit waiting.

“You’re getting stronger every day,” Nell remarked. “Thanks to your care.” When Nell had tried to discuss the memory loss with her once before, the woman’s eyes had taken on a haunted look, so she didn’t mention it again. She’s eating more and not as skeletal looking. The important thing is she’s safe and getting stronger, but she needs time to heal physically and emotionally. Her memory may return soon, and we’ll understand what happened to cause the amnesia. If she doesn’t remember, I’ll convince her to contact the sheriff’s office.

“We’re going on a trip, big guy.” Mike said, and put Marcus in the cage. Ellie prepared a hearty meal of roast pork and vegetables to celebrate Mike’s visit. Conversation seemed strained when he first arrived because Ron and Ellie were afraid of saying the wrong thing, but then it became easier. After dinner, Ron and Mike sat in the den while Ellie loaded the dishwasher and wiped off countertops. Cleaning the kitchen required a considerable amount of time, and she saw this as a way to give Ron and Mike time alone. He had always confided more to his uncle than her. Ron stoked the embers in the fireplace, but Marcus didn’t budge from his favorite spot in front of the hearth. Ron sat back down in the chair next to Mike and said, “Are you still considering leaving the FBI? Ellie and I wish you worked in a less dangerous field, but the decision is yours to make. We want you to be happy.” “I’m undecided. Along with losing Jillian, I lost a large piece of myself, but she’ll always be in my heart and mind.” “Mike, you’re wise to take time deciding, but remember there are many things you can do. Can you stay longer and help around the farm? I’m not as spry as I used to be and can use the extra help with a new project I’m starting.” Mike considered for a moment, then said, “Sure, Ron, I’ll be glad to help.” The men discussed in detail Ron’s project, and by the time they finished the conversation, Ellie had completed the cleaning. She stood at the doorway listening to their conversation and thought, Project work will be good for Mike. Then she stepped into the den. “Do you fellas want more coffee?” “Bring the pot,” Ron said. Ellie chuckled and retrieved the serving tray. *** ***

Sissy smiled at Nell as she took the cup of herbal tea offered and sat at the pine kitchen table. Nell filled another cup and joined her. Glancing across the table, she thought Sissy resembled a teenager, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She still has memory loss, but there’s something different about her eyes, not just the color. At times, she seems to know what I’m going to say before I speak; I reckon she has the gift. She’s been housebound since the illness, but I’ll remedy that by taking her for a drive soon. A little sun on her face is what she needs. That evening, Nell prepared chicken and dumplings for dinner, and Sissy finished all the food on her plate. She took a sip of herbal tea and said, “Everything is wonderful, Nell, but I ate too much.” “Nonsense, it’s good that your appetite is returning. Do you want to work on our picture puzzle this evening?” Sissy smiled and said, “We almost have it completed, so maybe we’ll finish it tonight.” Nell noticed Sissy smiled more lately, and simple things like working a puzzle seemed to make her happy. She’s improving every day. Hopefully before long, she’ll be ready to face whatever happened that day in the woods. Later that week, in the early morning hours, Sissy dreamed about a featureless man, and terror pierced her heart as she fought to escape from his clutches. She sat up in bed, trembling, and switched on the bedside light. “Just a dream,” she whispered. “I’m safe now.” But by then she was wide awake, so she dressed and started for the front room. Seeing the wall clock, she realized it was only five in the morning, and Nell wouldn’t be up for at least another hour. She put another log in the fireplace and waited. Recently, flashes of memories appeared to her, but they were things she couldn’t identify. She observed the cats curled up in front of the fireplace, and a gray and white cat came to mind, but the image quickly faded. Sissy reflected on the peace and relaxation afforded her while staying with Nell and reached the decision she didn’t want to hide from the truth anymore. She preferred not to think about the recent dream, but sensed it had special meaning and forced herself to concentrate on the featureless man. As the scene unfolded in her mind, the man’s face became clear. Nell rose at six, filled her dog’s water bowl, and went to the front room to listen to the early morning news. She was surprised to see Sissy sitting in a rocker by the fireplace. “You’re up early,” Nell remarked. Sissy turned her head toward Nell and said, “I need to discuss something important.” Nell sat on the sofa. “This sounds serious; what is it?” “I’m getting bits of memory recall, and early this morning, I woke from a disturbing dream that’s tied to what happened in the woods. Afterward, I remembered the face of the man who kidnapped me.” Nell smiled at Sissy and said, “Your memory is returning, like I hoped it would.” “I need to speak with the police.” “We’ll drive to the sheriff’s office this morning. Sissy, I want you to know that no matter how this turns out, you’re always welcome in my home. It’s been nice for this old woman to have company.” Sissy almost cried, and her voice quivered when she spoke. “Thank you, Nell, for your kindness and generosity. This means so much to me.”

When they entered the station, a young male officer at the front desk asked, “How may I help you ladies?” “We need to speak to someone about investigative work,” Nell said. “Wait here, and I’ll speak with Sheriff Grant.” A few minutes later, the officer returned and escorted them to the sheriff’s office. Sheriff Grant stood when Nell and Sissy entered the room. “Please sit,” he said, pointing to two chairs across from his desk. The sheriff fit the image of what Sissy thought a town sheriff would look like. He was average height, middle-aged, hair tinged with gray, and his expression presented a serious, no-nonsense approach to his work. Sheriff Grant put on his reading glasses, opened a writing pad on the desk, and said, “So tell me what you want my office to investigate.” Nell replied, “Two young fellas from my village found this young woman in the woods four months ago and brought her to my cabin. She was in bad shape with a head injury and mountain fever. Anyhow, she lost her memory and needs help finding out who she is.” Sheriff Grant looked in the young woman’s direction. “What did your doctor say about the amnesia?” “She didn’t go to one,” Nell interjected. “City doctors don’t know how to treat this type of fever, and antibiotics don’t get rid of it entirely. A special blend of herbal tea is the way to cure the illness so it doesn’t come back. I’ve known people who saw doctors for the fever, and if they survived, they didn’t fare well afterward.” Folk medicine was popular in that area and engrained in the culture, so Sheriff Grant didn’t question the wisdom of treating the woman at home. He knew from personal experience that natural cures could work better for some illnesses than traditional medicine. And from the sound of things, she was lucky to be alive. Sheriff Grant addressed the young woman again. “Do you remember anything at all?” “This morning, I recalled being in a wooded area and fighting to get away from a man who had kidnapped me.” The sheriff’s expression was sympathetic. “A psychiatrist who specializes in memory loss may be able to help you remember more of the details about that day.” “I plan to meet with a psychiatrist soon, but I can assure you I’m not imagining this.” “We’re hoping you can check your missing persons’ reports,” Nell said. “I will definitely do that.” He started to ask another question, but the young woman interrupted. “Sheriff, I didn’t come forward before now because it’s taken me this long to regain my strength after my ordeal in the woods and the illness. Nell saved my life and cared for me day and night. That’s what you wanted to ask, isn’t it?” A bit disconcerted by her accuracy, Sheriff Grant cleared his throat. “Can you describe this man?” “On the tall side, and thin, light brown hair, blue eyes, and he wears black-framed glasses.” “I’ll check the missing persons’ reports and contact the FBI. Investigations take time, but I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” On the drive back, Nell said, “Sissy, you had an odd expression on your face when the sheriff mentioned the FBI. Did you recall something?” “For some reason, the letter M came to mind.” Nell took a deep breath and decided it was time to speak up. “I didn’t mention this before, but I believe you’re clairvoyant, Sissy. I thought so when you first opened your eyes and spoke to me. That would explain how you knew what the sheriff was going to ask you before he spoke a word.” “Maybe it was just a lucky guess.” “No, it’s more; you just don’t realize it yet. Use your special gift to lead you to the answers you seek.” A faint memory returned of an elderly woman saying something similar, and Jillian pictured a raven in her mind. Why am I thinking of birds?

“I won’t forget,” he yelled back, then went downstairs to the kitchen, poured a glass of milk, and grabbed an oatmeal cookie. Meanwhile, Marcus sat in front of the kitchen window watching his every move. “Hey, boy, want a treat?” Mike retrieved a fish-flavored snack from the pantry and gave it to him. Mike mused out loud, “Aunt Ellie may be a small woman, but she sure is boisterous when it suits her purposes.” Marcus ate the treat, too busy to care about any of that. Every winter and summer, Ravenwood held a community event. The women brought food for the gathering while the men provided music and entertainment; even neighbors outside the settlement were invited to the dance. When Ellie had mentioned the dance a few days ago, Mike couldn’t think of a plausible excuse for refusing the invitation. So not wanting to hurt his aunt’s feelings, he agreed to go. He glanced at the kitchen clock. Five hours before the dance starts. I’ll just stay a couple of hours and leave. Mike arrived at the community center shortly after seven, and a large banner above the entrance read, “The Ravenwood Community Spring Dance.” He went inside and saw his aunt sitting at a banquet table up front with two other women he didn’t recognize. Ellie motioned Mike over and introduced him to Mary Ferguson and her daughter, Caroline. Mary Ferguson was in her mid-fifties with light brown hair, and while not obese, she was somewhat overweight. Caroline’s dyed ash-blonde hair was cut in a chin-length bob that framed her face nicely. She was slender and fairly attractive, but not what would be characterized as pretty. Except for weighing less and the different hair color, Caroline was a younger version of her mother, and Mike guessed her age at around thirty. They sat for a few minutes making small talk, during which Ellie noticed Caroline smiled often and paid attention to everything Mike said. On the other hand, Mike was polite, but nothing more. When the band played the next number, Ellie looked at her nephew and suggested, “Mike, why don’t you and Caroline dance?” To appease his aunt rather than because he truly wanted to, Mike said, “Caroline, do you care to dance?” She smiled sweetly. “Why, yes, thank you.” After dancing to a slow song, Mike escorted Caroline back to the table, and then joined a group of men at the bar. “Well, I should go and find Ron; he owes me a dance,” Ellie said and left. Ellie found Ron sitting at a table eating barbeque. “Here you are,” she said as she pulled a chair out from the table and sat next to him. “You were busy chatting with Mary and Caroline, and I didn’t want to interrupt, so I fixed myself a plate. I’m glad Mike came tonight; it’s good for him to get out more.” “Mike danced once with Caroline. That’s a sign he’s dealing with his loss, don’t you think?” “He’s not ready to start dating yet, but it’s a good start.” Ron took Ellie’s hand and led her to the dance floor. Caroline managed to slip away from her mother and watched Mike from a distance. I’d like to hook up with this sexy hunk, she thought. Mike glimpsed Caroline watching him, and his detective instincts kicked in. He deliberately avoided Caroline the rest of the evening. Something about her bothered him, and he suspected she was a phony and not the shy, sweet young woman she pretended to be. He chatted with the men for another hour before leaving, realizing that other than the weird vibe from Caroline, he had actually enjoyed being in a social setting. Marcus greeted Mike at the front door just like he used to do with Jillian. He followed him to the den and jumped up on the sofa, purring when Mike petted his head. “I should stop giving you so many treats, Marcus, you’re getting fat.” Mike reached over and examined the cat’s collar. “This is getting tight, and it’s already on the last notch. I’ll have to get you a new one.” He undid the collar and held it in his hand, looking at it wistfully. “Jillian told me she bought this fancy collar and name tag for you right after you came to live with her. She loved you, Marcus.” Shaking off the sadness, he put the collar on the coffee table and said, “Let’s go to bed.” The cat rose from his resting place and followed Mike to the bedroom.

“Good morning, Mike. I stopped by to get my mother’s painting. Is Ellie home?” “Ellie and Ron drove into town, but the painting is wrapped and ready to go. I’ll take it out to your car.” “Thanks.” Caroline glanced at the coffee mug in Mike’s hand and smiled seductively. “The coffee smells good. Do you mind if I fix myself a cup?” Mike didn’t really want her to come in, but he also didn’t want to be rude. “Coffee just finished brewing, and berry muffins are on the kitchen counter if you care for one.” After putting the painting in the backseat of Caroline’s car, Mike walked back into the house and joined her in the kitchen. Glancing around the room, Caroline remarked, “Everything is so well put together, especially the little touches like the brick fireplace and high, beamed ceiling.” Then she noticed Marcus lying in the corner. “That’s a big cat. What’s his name?” “Marcus.” Marcus eyed Caroline and Mike could see he took an instant dislike to her. Caroline got up and approached the cat. “I wouldn’t do that,” Mike said. She dismissed the warning with, “It’s OK, animals like me.” But when she tried to pet Marcus on the head, he hissed and swiped at her with his claws before running out of the room. “That’s not a very friendly cat; he tried to scratch me.” “Marcus doesn’t take to strangers.” Half an hour passed, and Caroline continued sitting at the table talking and sipping coffee, apparently in no hurry to leave. Mike tried to find a tactful way to get rid of her. “I don’t mean to rush you, but I have things to handle this morning.” He stood and headed to the dishwasher, mug in hand. Caroline walked over to Mike and handed him her empty cup. She smiled coyly, moved close to him, and played with the top button on his shirt. “Do you want company today? Maybe I can help with your chores.” “I appreciate the offer, but no thanks.” Caroline did not accept his no willingly and leaned in even closer. “Since you don’t need my help with work, I can do something else to make you feel really good.” She started unbuttoning his shirt. He removed her hand and stated flatly, “Caroline, I’m sorry if you’ve gotten the wrong impression, but I’m not on the market.” “Men have needs, same as women, and I’m not proposing anything serious. We can have a good time and satisfy our desires.” When she made a grab for his private stuff, he pushed her hand away and stepped back. “This is not going to happen. I have work to finish, and you should leave.” Caroline blinked, not believing what had just occurred, being unaccustomed to rejection. “What are you, impotent or something?” Icily, Mike insisted, “No, but I don’t care for overly aggressive women. You can show yourself out.” “Well, I never…” She left without finishing the sentence, slamming the front door behind her. “I never either,” Mike mumbled. After Caroline left, Marcus returned and stood next to Mike. “The man-eater is gone and not coming back,” he assured his cat.

“Transfer the call to me, Nancy,” he advised. The phone rang on his desk, and he picked up on the first ring. “Sheriff Grant, I’m Jim Miller, Mike Reynolds’ partner. He’s currently on a leave of absence, but how may I be of help?” “An elderly woman named Nell Fuller and a young woman with amnesia came into the station recently seeking answers about her past. This might be the Jillian Reynolds who went missing on the hiking trail near the Wayfare Inn four months ago. She’s thinner now and frail, but bears a strong resemblance to the woman on the missing person poster. Two brothers found her unconscious in the woods and took her to Nell Fuller, who practices folk medicine nearby. The young woman recently remembered the man who kidnapped her and provided a physical description, but doesn’t recall much else. Illness and a head injury prevented her from coming forward before now.” Then the sheriff added, “I think Nell Fuller is credited with saving the woman’s life.” The sheriff must be mistaken, Jim thought, but replied. “Sheriff Grant, please describe this woman.” “As I said, she’s frail, but a lovely young woman with strawberry-blonde hair and the prettiest blue eyes.” Then, out of the blue, he added, “At one point during our conversation, it felt like she was reading my mind, but I know that’s not possible.” Jim almost dropped the phone. “Sheriff Grant, I knew Jillian Reynolds well and want to meet this woman before Mike Reynolds is notified. I don’t want to get his hopes up if it turns out the woman isn’t Jillian. I’ll schedule a flight and call you back with my arrival information.” “OK. Once I’ve got that information, I’ll contact the other parties and schedule a meeting. Thank you, Agent Miller,” the sheriff replied.

The old-fashioned phone rang loudly, and Nell got up to answer. She was surprised to find it was Sheriff Grant, as she hadn’t expected to hear from him so soon. They spoke briefly, then she placed the receiver down on the phone. Looking at Sissy, she said, “Sheriff Grant wants us to return to his office today at four to discuss the investigation, but he didn’t give any details. We should leave here by three fifteen to allow for traffic.” Seeing the apprehension in Sissy’s eyes, Nell added, “The not knowing makes things difficult. I say we put this worry aside for a spell and discuss the new herbs I’m adding to the garden this year.” “I think that’s a good idea. Tell me about them.” Jim got delayed by airport traffic, but once the congestion cleared, he made good time and managed to arrive fifteen minutes before the meeting. He and Sheriff Grant were just starting to discuss the case when the officer at the front desk announced Nell Fuller and Sissy had arrived. “Bring them to the conference room,” Sheriff Grant instructed. Jim followed Sheriff Grant down the hall to the meeting room, and his jaw dropped when he saw the profile of the woman sitting at the conference table. She was thinner, but still just as beautiful. After Sheriff Grant made the introductions, Nell shook Jim’s hand, but the young woman’s eyes rested on his face. “You seem familiar. Do I know you?” Jim sat next to her. “Yes. I’m Jim Miller, and you’re Jillian Reynolds.” Jillian felt the tears start streaming down her face. Finally, she had an actual name. Nell and Sheriff Grant returned to his office so Jim and Jillian could speak in private. “Sheriff Grant filled me in on what happened and said you remembered the man who kidnapped you.” “I don’t recall much else, a few glimmers here and there. How did I know you?” “Jillian, I think we should check with a professional before I say anything more.” She nodded her head. “I understand and plan to do that. You can refer to the professional as a psychiatrist.” He laughed. “I’m glad to see you’re still good at reading people, but that’s another story. I need to speak with Sheriff Grant, but it won’t take long.” “Please answer one question for me first. I’ve had brief flashbacks of a tall, handsome man with dark hair, and I believe we were close. Am I right?” she asked. He smiled warmly. “Yes.” Jillian sat staring out the conference room window, but turned to face Nell when she entered the room. Nell sat across from Jillian and said, “So you’re Jillian Reynolds—the name suits you. What else did you find out?” “Not much, other than I should consult with a psychiatrist for my memory loss.” “Sissy—I mean Jillian, I predict that before long, you’ll remember everything. I’m so happy for you, I could cry.” She smiled at Jillian with genuine affection. Jillian did cry, then dried her eyes with the hankie Nell handed her. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “This has just been an emotional day.” “After everything you’ve been through, you’re entitled to a good cry, and sometimes we just need to give in to our emotions.” Back in Sheriff Grant’s office, Jim said, “The FBI presumed Ian Keller, an ex-con, kidnapped Jillian Reynolds while on a hiking trip with her husband. The search team found his mauled body in a cave, apparently attacked by a wild cat, and her blood was found at the scene also. The FBI continued searching, but finally concluded the cat killed both of them and dragged her body off into the mountains. I didn’t mention any of this to Jillian.” “I can contact Dr. Miriam Wyatt, a local psychiatrist I worked with on another case. She specializes in treating memory loss.” “Thank you, that will be very helpful.” Sheriff Grant flipped through the index cards on his roller card holder and placed a call to Dr. Miriam Wyatt. He spoke briefly with Dr. Wyatt, jotted something on a notepad, then hung up. “Dr. Wyatt wants to meet with Mrs. Reynolds in her office tomorrow morning at nine, and then she wants to see her husband afterward.” Then, seeing a flicker of concern on Agent Miller’s face, he reassured him, “The case she assisted with two years ago involved an eight-year-old girl who witnessed her father getting shot by a burglar. The child was greatly traumatized afterward, but with Dr. Wyatt’s help, she remembered enough detail to lead to the man’s arrest.” “Thank you for arranging this. I need to call Mike Reynolds now and let him know his wife is alive.” Grant nodded. “You can use my office—I’ll be in the conference room.”

Jim hesitated briefly, taking a deep breath before just diving in. “Mike, the sheriff of a small town in West Virginia was trying to reach you by phone earlier today. When he couldn’t, he called FBI Headquarters.” Mike was perplexed. “I worked with Ron on the farm all day and didn’t have my cell with me, but there weren’t any messages. What does he want?” Jim had considered the best way to break the news to Mike, but it would be a shock no matter how he handled it. “Mike, I’ve got big news for you, but please hear me out before you ask questions. OK?” This sounded intense, and Mike shifted his position, getting more alert. “Sure, Jim. Go ahead.” “I took the call from Sheriff Grant to headquarters. A young woman had come into his office. She has amnesia, but some of her memory is returning. It turns out that four months ago, two men had found her unconscious in the woods and taken her back to their village, not far from the Wayfare Inn. She had a head wound and mountain fever, but a local elderly woman who practices folk medicine, Nell Fuller, cared for her and saved her life. It took this long for the woman to regain her strength and file a report. She doesn’t recall why she was in the woods the day of her kidnapping, but remembers fighting to get away.” Not wanting to give Mike a chance to interrupt, Jim pressed on with the story. “I flew there this morning and met the young woman. She’s frail, and everything is confusing for her right now, but she knew I looked familiar.” He finally paused. Mike swallowed hard. “Jim, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” “Yes, Mike. Jillian is alive. I didn’t call you before I flew there in case it wasn’t her.” Mike’s voice quivered. “How is this possible? Where is she, Jim? I have to see her!” “She’s been staying with Nell Fuller, not far from the Inn. You can fly in tomorrow morning, and I’ll pick you up at the airport. Sheriff Grant contacted a local psychiatrist who helped in another case involving an amnesiac, Dr. Miriam Wyatt, and she wants to meet with Jillian tomorrow at nine and then with you afterward. Mike, Jillian knows nothing about her past, other than her name. I didn’t want to overwhelm her with information.” Mike’s heart was beating fast and his mind was racing. He took a deep breath. “Thanks for arranging this, Jim. I guess Dr. Wyatt is the expert, so whatever approach she recommends will be in Jillian’s best interest. Where are you staying? I’m at Ron and Ellie’s now, but I’m going to pack a bag and drive there tonight rather than wait to fly in the morning.” Jim glanced at his watch before saying, “Let’s just plan on meeting at the hotel in the morning. It’ll be late when you arrive, and there’s nothing to be done before tomorrow.” “You’re right. I’m not thinking straight at the moment—I guess I’m shell-shocked.” Mike was on the verge of tears, and his voice sounded shaky. “This is truly a miracle.” Jim gave him directions to the hotel before telling Mike to try to get some sleep and that he’d see him in the morning. Overcome with emotion, Mike sat at the kitchen table and shed tears of joy. After a few minutes, he refilled his coffee cup and went to the den to wait for Ron and Ellie to return. He knew he was awake and not dreaming, but the realization that Jillian was alive jolted his senses beyond reason. He desperately hoped she would remember him, but either way, his wife was alive. Sensing the change in Mike’s mood, Marcus jumped up next to him on the sofa and rubbed his head against Mike’s arm. Mike stroked the cat’s fur. “I’ve got a wonderful surprise for you, big guy.” *** Ron and Ellie walked through the front door an hour later and saw Mike sitting on the sofa with a huge smile on his face. “What’s going on?” Ron asked. “You both will want to sit first.” As soon as they were seated on the couch, Mike blurted out, “Jim called, and Jillian is alive! He met with her himself.” Mike went on to recount the story of how the men found Jillian in the woods and what had transpired afterward. Ron’s mouth was agape, and Ellie’s eyes were wide in disbelief. “My word, Mike, such wonderful news,” Ellie exclaimed. “I shudder to think what happened, and it may be a blessing if Jillian never recalls that part.” “I’m meeting with her psychiatrist tomorrow, but we won’t know the details until she regains her memory.” “Jim’s a good friend, making sure it was Jillian before saying anything to you,” Ron commented.

“I keep waiting to wake up from a dream, but as much as I want to bring Jillian home today, I’ll do what Dr. Wyatt recommends. I’m concerned about saying the wrong thing.” “Don’t worry, Dr. Wyatt will be there to help.” Mike looked at the food on his plate and managed to choke down a bite of scrambled eggs and a piece of bacon. Jillian met with Dr. Wyatt at the scheduled time, and her first impression was that the physician had a kind face. She appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties, with short-cropped dark hair and wire-framed glasses. They spent the first half hour discussing everything Jillian had told Sheriff Grant, and then Dr. Wyatt asked several questions. “Jillian, this was a harrowing experience, but the fact that you’re starting to recall things is a positive sign. Have you remembered anything else?” “I have fleeting images of a tall man, with dark hair and blue eyes, and I sense he’s special, an important part of my life. Dr. Wyatt, why can’t I remember more?” The doctor tried to reassure Jillian. “Coping with memory loss is very difficult, and it often takes time to regain lost memories. According to the police report, you sustained a head injury in addition to contracting mountain fever. I want to admit you to the hospital for a complete physical and some tests. Are you agreeable to doing that today?” “Today is fine. Will I have to stay in the hospital overnight?” Dr. Wyatt nodded. “Yes, but just for tonight. The tests take several hours to complete. As soon as the paperwork is ready, one of the medical assistants will be back to check you in at the hospital.” “Nell is in the waiting room; I need to let her know,” Jillian fretted. “We’ll take care of that for you. Do you have any other questions?” “Are you concerned I have permanent brain damage?” Jillian asked. “That doesn’t appear to be the case, but I want to be sure you’re completely recovered from the injury and illness. Once the test results are back, I can decide on the proper treatment for you. Jillian, I promise to do everything possible to help you regain your memory.” Jillian felt good about the doctor, and relieved, said, “Thank you, Dr. Wyatt.” Following Jillian’s appointment, Dr. Wyatt saw Mike in her office. “Mr. Reynolds, I’m encouraged by the earlier meeting with your wife. Jillian is starting to recall things, and she agreed to check into the hospital this morning for tests and a physical. It’s a precautionary measure, but I need to know the type of head injury Jillian sustained and make certain she’s recovered from the illness. Nell Fuller did a remarkable job in caring for her, but these tests are necessary to make an exact diagnosis. I want Jillian to recall things on her own, if possible, without filling in the blanks. She has flashbacks of a tall man with dark hair and blue eyes, so I hope seeing you will help trigger memories.” Mike beamed. “How will you introduce me?” “It will depend on Jillian’s reaction to seeing you, but if she has any recollection, she’ll ask the questions. We’ll keep the visit brief if she gets agitated or upset. The most important thing we can do for Jillian now is not pressure her to remember, as that could cause a setback. She’ll be told you’re married as soon as realistically possible; but again, I want to give her the chance to remember at her own pace.” She looked at Mike to ensure he understood. When he nodded, she continued. “Even though I requested a rush on the test results, they take time, but I will know something by tomorrow. My office will call you to schedule a meeting once the results are available. Where can you be reached?” Mike pulled a notebook from his pocket, jotted his number on a piece of paper, and handed it to her. “Thank you again, Dr. Wyatt,” he said gratefully. “You’re more than welcome, Mr. Reynolds.” “The day is only half over, and I’m exhausted, but encouraged.” Mike sat with Jim in the hotel lounge discussing his meeting with Dr. Wyatt. “Emotional stress can be more taxing than physical work,” Jim commented. “For sure. Jillian is staying over at the hospital tonight for tests, but I can see her tomorrow. Dr. Wyatt said she has a brief memory of a tall man with dark hair and blue eyes. She said how Jillian reacts to seeing me will determine when she’s told we’re married.” “As I recall, Jillian referred to you as a handsome, tall man. Tall, I can understand, but I’m not so sure about the handsome part,” Jim teased. When Mike returned his grin, he went on, “I didn’t say anything about that before because I didn’t want to give you false hope if she didn’t remember right away.” “Thanks, Jim, but I’m prepared for this. Until a day ago, I lived with the heartache of losing my wife, and now miraculously, she’s back. It may take time before Jillian remembers, but after speaking with Dr. Wyatt, I believe it will happen.” Jim smiled. “Sharon and I are thrilled for you and Jillian.” “Thanks for being such a good friend. You said Jillian is thinner now, but did she seem all right otherwise?” “She’s just as gorgeous as ever.” Mike let out a breath. “Jim, you should go home and be with Sharon and the kids. There’s no reason to wait here.” “You’d do the same for me, and Sharon wants me to stay and keep you company. After all, we’re still partners.” “Thanks for the support.” Mike glanced at his wristwatch and saw only two hours had passed since leaving Dr. Wyatt’s office.

“Not much the last two nights, since I heard about Jillian.” “This is a stressful time,” Dr. Wyatt acknowledged. “I can prescribe a mild sedative to help you sleep.” “Thanks, but I’m OK,” Mike replied. “The test results show Jillian suffered a fractured skull, but no permanent damage. She’s underweight, but otherwise healthy. She may be suffering from dissociative amnesia, where someone blocks a traumatic event from memory as an act of self-preservation. The mountain fever could also be a contributing factor, but it’s impossible to determine how much. Repressed memories can be recovered spontaneously, triggered by a familiar face, particular smell, or other identifier. The good news to that is that because dissociative amnesia is due to psychological causes, it may be helped by psychotherapy, including hypnotism. The bad news is that distinguishing a true memory from a false one can be challenging. Sufferers do tend to lose biographical history, like not remembering their name or address, but new memories can be created. This is a lot to grasp at once, but I’m hopeful Jillian will recover most, if not all her memory.” “What happens next?” “Jillian will be released from the hospital today, but she may want to stay with Nell Fuller for now since that’s familiar.” “I understand, and Jillian’s well-being takes priority over my wishes.” Dr. Wyatt smiled at Mike and said, “Let’s head over to the hospital and visit with Jillian.” Mike followed Dr. Wyatt to the lobby, where they got in the elevator. “We’ll get off on the second floor and take the crosswalk to the hospital,” she explained. Jillian lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. The tests are satisfactory, but I’m still so confused. She turned her head when someone entered the room, and her eyes quickly rested on the male visitor. She remembered the strong lines of the handsome face, the tenderness in the eyes, and in a flash, it came rushing back to her. She cried out, “Mike, you’re here!” Mike’s eyes welled with tears and his heart beat wildly. “Yes, Jillian.” “I remember!” she exclaimed. Overcome with emotion, she wept. Mike rushed to the bed and took Jillian in his arms, smoothing the hair away from her face. Dr. Wyatt was astonished. “Jillian, you recognized Mike! Do you remember anything else?” Jillian’s voice trembled. “We’re married…” she said, almost tentatively. She looked into Mike’s eyes and more memories flooded her. “I kept seeing your face, but only briefly, and even though I didn’t remember at first, I carried our love in my heart.” Mike sobbed, “Thank God you’re all right.” Jillian suddenly realized, and gasped, “Oh, Mike, you must have thought I died!” As she caressed his face, he replied, “You’re back with me now and nothing else matters.” Dr. Wyatt wanted to leave them alone, so interrupted. “Jillian, I had hoped seeing Mike would trigger your memory, though I didn’t dare hope it would be this complete and so quick. But I want to warn you, don’t be disappointed if you experience lapses. I want to meet with you again next week to check on your progress. I’ll give you some time alone now while I check on something.” She slipped out the door. Jillian looked at Mike and smiled, saying, “I’m frightfully thin.” He grinned at her with great tenderness. “You are thinner, but still beautiful. Don’t worry, I’ll fatten you up in no time.” Jillian laughed, then bit her lower lip. “Is Marcus all right?” “Sassy as ever. My aunt and uncle are keeping him while I’m away.” “How are Ron and Ellie?” The question just popped out. Mike was amazed. “Do you realize how quickly you’re recalling things?” “I’m so relieved.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. Mike put his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. He decided to make a suggestion. “Sweetheart, this has been an emotionally charged day, so if you prefer, we can wait until tomorrow to return to Alexandria. We need to stop by my aunt and uncle’s place anyway, to get Marcus.” Mike noticed the worried expression on her face, and hastened to add, “You can stay in the car when we get there; Ron and Ellie will understand.” “I want to get Marcus and go home today, but I’m not ready to socialize yet, not even with family,” she explained. Just then, Dr. Wyatt came back into the room. “Jillian, are you ready to check out? A nurse will bring the discharge papers shortly.” “Yes, Dr. Wyatt.” Dr. Wyatt warned, “Friends and family will want to visit, but there will be an adjustment period as your brain processes everything, and memories and feelings can’t be forced. I recommend you give yourself time to get acclimated to being back home before taking that next step.” Mike hurried to reassure the doctor and Jillian both. “I’m on an extended leave from work, so I’ll make certain Jillian isn’t pressured or stressed in any way.” Jillian suddenly exclaimed, “Nell! I have to let her know what’s happened; she’s out in the waiting room. Mike, she took care of me after my injury and literally saved my life.” She looked at her husband pleadingly. “I’m looking forward to meeting Nell,” he replied. “And I need to call Jim at the hotel—he’s waiting to hear back from me.” Jillian said, “I met Jim at the sheriff’s office, and he seemed familiar. He’s your partner at the FBI, isn’t he? And a good friend to both of us.” Mike nodded, smiling. Dr. Wyatt spoke up. “I’ll ask a nurse to bring Nell in so you can speak with her.” “Thank you, Dr. Wyatt.” “You’re very welcome. Call me if you have questions or concerns before our next meeting.” Within five minutes, Nell came into Jillian’s room, and she was surprised to see a man holding Jillian’s hand. Jillian smiled brightly and said, “Nell, this is my husband, Mike Reynolds.” Mike stood and reached to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Fuller. Please take my seat.” “I will, as long as you call me Nell. Miss Fuller sounds too fancy for me.” She looked up at Mike and remarked, “You’re really tall, aren’t you?” “That’s what everyone tells me. Nell, I’m immensely grateful for everything you did for Jillian. Please let me know if ever I can do something for you. I hope you’ll continue to be a part of Jillian’s life.” “Why thank you, young man.” Mike looked at Jillian and said, “I’ll call Jim now, but won’t be long.” Then he let the women have a moment alone. After he left, Nell looked at Jillian. “So he’s your husband. You certainly snared a good-looking one. Just how tall is he?” Jillian laughed. “Six feet, six inches. Mike is an imposing figure.” “Can’t imagine anyone messing with him. How much do you remember now?” “I remember Mike and some other pieces. We were so happy before the man attacked me on the hiking trail, the same man in my dream. There’s still so much I don’t remember though.” “You’re recalling things; the rest will come. When do you get released?” “Today, in just a little while, but I’ll continue treatment with Dr. Wyatt on an outpatient basis. Nell, you are part of my family now, and I hope you will visit us at our home in Alexandria.” Jillian suddenly had a vivid recollection of a cottage overlooking Crystal Lake and her life there with Mike and Marcus. “We also have a lakeside home,” she added brightly. Nell patted Jillian’s hand. “You can count on it, and I want you and your husband to visit me often, too. I consider you my family also.” “We will, I promise. Thank you so much for everything; I wouldn’t be alive today without your care.” “I’m glad I was able to help. You know, Jillian, you and your man will make beautiful babies.” Nell winked and beamed at Jillian. “Well, I should go now.” She hugged Jillian tightly, then left just as Mike returned. “Ready to break out of this place?” he asked. Jillian laughed at his sense of humor. “I am if you are. Do you mind if we drive to our cottage at Crystal Lake instead of Alexandria?” “You remember.” Mike was reluctant to return there, afraid of triggering too many memories for her all at once. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but didn’t need to, because Jillian addressed his concern. “I remember everything that happened there, but the cottage is home, the same as our brownstone in Alexandria. It’s where we first met, and that far outweighs any negatives.” He kissed her hand gently. “I couldn’t agree more and don’t care where we go as long as we’re together.” A nurse entered the room with a wheelchair and reviewed the discharge paperwork with Jillian. When she finished, she said, “Do you have any questions, Mrs. Reynolds?” “No, I don’t think so.” “Mr. Reynolds, you can drive up to the front entrance, and I’ll bring Mrs. Reynolds to your car.” ** **

“I hope I didn’t hurt Ron and Ellie’s feelings by not getting out of the car at their house,” Jillian said. “Not at all. I explained that Dr. Wyatt wants you to take things slowly and promised we’d visit as soon as you’re ready.” Before reaching Crystal Lake, Mike stopped at a fresh food market and purchased a few groceries, and they arrived home at dusk. Once inside, Jillian walked around the rooms, looking at familiar things, and Marcus followed close behind, keeping her within sight. “Mike, you’re living in Alexandria, but everything in the cottage is spotless, not a speck of dust anywhere.” “The maid still comes weekly to clean. I kept her on because it’s not easy finding someone who will do such a good job. Are you getting hungry? I bought fish and vegetables to cook for dinner.” “I am getting hungry, and that sounds great.” “Why don’t you rest on the couch while I make dinner?” he suggested. Jillian nodded her head in agreement. “This has been the most activity I’ve had in a while, and I am rather tired.” She stretched out on the couch and was soon asleep. Marcus jumped up next to her, deciding a nap was a good idea. Mike smiled at Jillian and Marcus sleeping together on the couch. That’s a sight I’ll never tire of. The day had begun with uncertainty, and now his wife was home. He bowed his head and gave heartfelt thanks. After dinner, Mike lit the gas fireplace in the den, and the warmth soon spread throughout the room. “The dinner was wonderful, but then, you always did cook better than me,” Jillian said. “You’re a better cook than you realize.” They relaxed and talked for a long time, until Jillian struggled to stay awake. Mike glanced at the clock. “It’s later than I thought. Are you ready for bed?” “I just remembered that all my clothes are at Nell’s house.” “The clothing you kept at the cottage is still here.” “Mike, I’m so sorry you went through all of this, believing I died.” “Sweetheart, you’ve gone through more.” It felt good to be back home in her own bed. Jillian laid her head on Mike’s shoulder, and they both slept peacefully. ** **

Five minutes later, Dr. Wyatt arrived and sat at her desk. “Good morning, Mike and Jillian. Do either of you care for coffee or a beverage?” “No, thank you,” Jillian said. “I’ll pass,” Mike replied. Dr. Wyatt opened the medical file and said, “Jillian, when we last spoke, you couldn’t recall the day you disappeared or events leading up to it. Have any of those memories returned?” “I remember everything that happened.” Mike held Jillian’s hand, giving her encouragement. “Yes, I’m ready.” “You can stop any time it becomes too difficult.” “I understand. Mike and I had planned a hiking trip to Cutter’s Trail, and that Saturday afternoon, we drove to the Wayfare Inn and checked in. We spent the rest of the day at the arts and crafts festival in town, and Sunday morning, we hiked on the trail. The day was perfect until we got caught in a terrible storm and had to camp overnight. I woke up thirsty the next morning, and instead of waking Mike, I walked to a nearby stream to refill our canteens. It wasn’t far from our campsite, and since it was along the trail, I didn’t see the harm. I realize what happened is not my fault, but I should have waited for Mike to go with me.” Mike suddenly spoke up. “Excuse the interruption, Dr. Wyatt, but I need to say something to Jillian.” He held Jillian’s hand, and his eyes filled with love when he spoke. “I was sleeping when you left to get water, and I’ve felt guilty about failing to protect you, but Jim reminded me we’re not responsible for someone else’s actions. Guilt won’t change what’s happened and serves no purpose.” Jillian held tight to Mike’s hand and mouthed “I love you” before she continued recounting the details of that day. “A man was at the stream pointing a gun and threatening to shoot me if I didn’t go with him. I recognized him as Charlie, who lived next door to my family in West Virginia when I was young, but later, he said his real name was Ian Keller.” Mike’s expression changed from calm to astonishment at hearing that the neighbor from her childhood and Ian Keller were the same person. “I fought and tried to get away, but he knocked me out, and I injured my head during the fall. I don’t know how long I was out, but when I opened my eyes, he was standing over me, and I called him Charlie. I could tell that triggered a memory for him, and he recognized me as the child who made unpleasant faces at him. That’s when he told me Charlie Unger was the name he’d used all those years ago, but that his real name was Ian Keller.” Jillian stopped and turned to Mike. “Ian Keller had a partner named Collier Davis, and they committed the park murders together until Collier acted on his own and was killed during the shootout.” It was a revelation to learn two serial killers committed the murders, but Mike kept quiet and waited for Jillian to tell the rest of the story. “The men met in prison and became serial killers after getting paroled. Ian is who shot Mike the day he and Jim came out of the coffee shop in Norris.” She hesitated, trying to stay composed, but recounting Ian Keller’s death would be difficult, and her voice quivered when she spoke. “Ian held me captive in a cave, and for whatever reason, he wanted to discuss psychic phenomena. But I guess he got tired of the discussion, and pulled a knife from his pocket, getting ready to murder me. That’s when a cougar with brilliant golden eyes crept up from behind him and pounced. Massive teeth tore into his flesh and Keller died an agonizing death. After the cougar had killed him, it roared and left the cave. I blocked everything out, searched the backpack for food, and walked out of the cave as if nothing had happened. Thinking back, I was in shock from witnessing the cougar’s attack. I tried finding my way back to the trail and wandered in the woods until I lost my footing and fell over the side of a cliff. Luckily, I landed on a ledge not far below and climbed back up the side. But then I collapsed from exhaustion, and when I awoke, the surroundings were unfamiliar, and Nell was sitting beside my bed.” Jillian held her hands up to her face and sobbed. Mike ran his hand gently over her hair while cradling her head, and after a few minutes, she was calmer. She almost whispered, “Ian Keller was an evil man, but watching someone ripped to shreds while still alive is ghastly.” “That’s a frightful story, and a traumatic experience,” Dr. Wyatt said. “It’s understandable that you blocked it from your memory, but you faced the fear today and can move past it. I wonder why Keller wanted to discuss psychic phenomena with you?” she mused. “But then again, the man was insane and didn’t think rationally. Jillian, I want to continue with weekly appointments, but don’t expect you will need these sessions for much longer.” Jillian adjusted her head on Mike’s shoulder, mentally and physically exhausted. “Mike, you should take Jillian home now so she can rest.” “I will, and thanks again, Dr. Wyatt.” “Yes, thank you,” Jillian added weakly. After Mike and Jillian left, Dr. Wyatt sat at her desk and reflected on their session. Jillian will make a full recovery; if only all my cases ended this well. It’s astounding the cougar didn’t attack her too. What are the chances of that happening? She began dictating notes for her patient’s medical record. On the drive home, Jillian said, “Mike, there’s more to the story than what I told Dr. Wyatt. Keller assumed I was psychic after seeing my reaction to his presence in the candle shop and on the pier. He was fanatical about the subject, and I told him things about his past that I had no prior knowledge of. His death was imminent, and I knew it beforehand. As strange as this sounds, I sensed the cougar wouldn’t harm me because Ian had been the cat’s prey all along. Maybe the head injury somehow enhanced my sensitivity that day, but knowing Ian’s Keller’s fate enabled me to deal with the fear.” Mike thought for a moment before replying. “That was such an intense experience, and for whatever reason, you channeled your gift to a higher level when you needed it most. Greta was right when she said your gift of second sight is stronger than even you realize.” “You’ve always been so accepting of my psychic quirkiness. This would bother a lot of men.” “It’s a big part of who you are, and I love everything about you.” Mike called Jim that afternoon and explained how Ian Keller had told Jillian how he and Collier Davis met in prison and began a killing spree after getting paroled, with both men committing the first two murders together, and Davis committing the third murder alone. Jim was stunned to learn of that twist in the serial park murder cases.

She and Mike remained at the cottage, and he continued his indefinite leave of absence from the FBI. Eventually, they would return to their home in Alexandria, but were content for the present to stay at Crystal Lake. They sat at the kitchen table one morning, and Marcus sprawled out on the floor by the window. Jillian took a sip of herbal tea, which she now preferred to coffee, thanks to Nell, and noticed the way Mike was looking at her. “Do I have food stuck between my teeth or something?” she asked. “No. I’m thinking how sexy you are in your oversized T-shirt.” She smiled slightly, knowing he had more on his mind. “And what else?” He set his coffee cup on the table and grinned, a wolfish glint in his eye. “I’m picturing you without the T-shirt.” “Mike Reynolds, you’re such a tease.” He stood up and extended his hand to her. “I never tease when it comes to this.” She took his hand and giggled with delight when he swept her up in his arms. That evening, Mike called his aunt and after hanging up, said, “Ron and Ellie invited us to join them for dinner tomorrow and to spend the night. What do you think?” Jillian looked up from the home and garden program she was watching on TV and hesitated only briefly, but uncertainty showed on her face. “I’ll tell them we can’t come. They’ll understand,” Mike said. “No, we should socialize more; I don’t want to turn into recluses. I also spoke with Nell the other day and promised we would visit soon.” Mike winked at Jillian. “I’ll call and let them know to expect us.” A light dusting of flakes covered the ground, and the air was cold and brisk outside when Mike and Jillian arrived at Ravenwood. Ron had salted the sidewalk earlier to keep it from becoming slippery, and their shoes made sloshy sounds on the walkway. Once inside, Jillian handed Ron the bottle of wine they’d brought, and immediately, Marcus sought his favorite place in front of the fireplace. After exchanging welcomes, Ellie said, “Appetizers are in the den. We’re so glad you came to visit.” The same troubling thought inched its way into Jillian’s consciousness. Everything seems too perfect. “Jillian, you’re positively glowing,” Ellie said. “Thank you. Mike has been feeding me well.” Mike smiled at her affectionately. “Please excuse me now, I need to finish up in the kitchen,” Ellie remarked. “Can I help?” Jillian asked. “That would be nice. It seems like old times with you helping me prepare the meal.” Ron stoked the embers and sat in the chair next to Mike while Marcus lay by the hearth, enjoying the warmth radiating from the burning logs.e “Have you reached a decision yet about returning to the FBI?” Ron asked. “I’m still undecided; Jillian is back with me and everything else is secondary.” “That’s understandable. You and Jillian will want to have a family someday, so maybe you should consider a less dangerous type of work. Just something to keep in mind.” A few minutes later, Ellie stood in the doorway and announced, “Dinner’s ready; we’re eating in the dining room.” They gathered around the large oval table and Ron said, “Jillian, we’re grateful to have you back with us.” “And I feel blessed to be back with my family.” She looked at Mike and her eyes shone with happiness. Conversation was easy and light, and she relaxed, dismissing the uncomfortable feelings she’d experienced when they first arrived. The following afternoon, Ellie and Ron stood at the living room window watching Mike and Jillian drive away. “Jillian is lovely as ever,” Ellie said. Ron put his arm around her shoulders. “They’re perfectly suited to each other, same as us.” Ellie patted his hand. “Yes, they are. So, did Mike mention his job at the FBI?” “Just that he’s still undecided. I pointed out there are other things he can do.” “It would be for the best. Maybe he’ll come to that decision soon.”

With annoyance, Jillian flicked at strands of hair falling in her face. “This hair keeps getting in my eyes; I guess I should get a clip.” She took a sip of tea and said, “The quiet and peacefulness of the cottage is nice, but I like the brownstone equally, with all the old architectural detail. There’s a lot to do in Alexandria, and if I had to choose between them, I’m not sure which one I would pick.” Mike put down his morning newspaper and turned toward her. “Fortunately, we don’t have to choose and can continue to enjoy both homes. That is quite a mop of hair on your head.” He ducked from the cushion she tossed at him from the wicker couch, then his cell phone rang. He answered and spoke with the caller for a few minutes. Jillian gathered from the conversation it concerned work and waited for Mike to tell her the reason for Jim’s call. “The Bureau is investigating a report of arms dealing in the Norris area. Someone is stockpiling artillery, and Jim has the idea I can visit with Ron and Ellie and check out the area at the same time.” “Is that something you want to do?” “I have a family connection and can investigate easier than a stranger. Ron knows everyone in the community and his insight will be beneficial,” he remarked. Then he looked closely at Jillian and frowned. “You’re not saying anything. What’s wrong?” “I’m not sure, but maybe you shouldn’t take the assignment.” “Baby, I won’t do this if it upsets you.” After thinking about it more, Jillian said, “I’m probably overreacting. We’ve been through a lot this past year, so forget it. Can I go too?” “Absolutely. I’ll let Ellie and Ron know we plan to visit for a few days. We’ll leave in the morning.” “You’re back into FBI mode, Mike, same as the first day we met.” “I haven’t worked in a while, but it’s only a small investigative assignment.” Jillian smiled knowingly, pleased to see Mike take interest in work again. “Who would ever guess arms dealers in a remote town like Norris?” “The area is secluded, which makes for good cover.” “I didn’t consider that.” Jillian felt a sudden chill and shivered. Mike noticed her reaction and asked, “Are you OK?” “Yes, just a slight chill. I’m going inside to get a sweater.” “Don’t forget the hair clip.” Jillian leaned over, pretending to kiss him, but tousled his hair instead and went to get the sweater and clip.

Mike grinned. “Yep, the table is big, but it’s a nice patio set. Ron, I need to discuss something important. The FBI has reason to believe someone is involved in arms dealing in Norris and asked me to investigate. Jim and I discussed this and believe you’re our best resource since everyone knows you and are more apt to talk to you. What are your thoughts?” “I wasn’t aware you were back with the FBI,” Ron replied. “It’s just a special assignment. I’m not officially back to active duty.” Ron’s voice sounded angry when he responded. “We won’t stand for this sort of thing in our community. I’d never suspect arms dealing in Norris, just a little marijuana growing occasionally for medicinal use is all. How did the FBI find out?” “Something tipped them off, but I don’t have specifics. Do you ever go on your other piece of land? I mention it because that parcel is in the general vicinity the FBI wants investigated.” “I hunt there occasionally, but for sure, I’d know if anyone was squatting on my property. Can you give me a few days to check around on my own? Like you said, folks are more apt to talk to me.” “Sure, Ron. I’ll stand back and let you take the lead. When do you plan to start?” “Today, but I’d appreciate you doing something for me. Can you drive to the hardware store in town and pick up the paint I ordered for my fence and barn? Ellie has a committee meeting, so we’ll both be busy this afternoon, but you can use my truck to haul the paint.” “I’ll leave in a few minutes. This gives me a chance to show Jillian around town. She’ll enjoy the art displays in the historical district.” “Be assured, the investigation takes top priority,” Ron said. “Thanks, Ron.” No matter how old my uncle gets, he’s always ready for action. Mike wondered sometimes how Ron and his father could have been related. His father had been a sophisticated, educated, self-made millionaire—all the things Ron rejected. Mike’s uncle wasn’t interested in scholarly pursuits, joined the army after graduating high school, and afterward, settled in a remote section of the country. Over time, Ron developed the speech patterns common to the area and blended in with the locals. Once when Mike was visiting his grandparents, he overheard them discussing the differences in their two sons. His grandfather jokingly said there was a mix-up at the hospital with Ron, and someone else was raising their real son. Mike’s grandmother knew he was kidding and laughed about it. In spite of their sons’ different personalities and lifestyle choices, they loved them both equally. Mike pulled off the road and parked the truck. “Jillian, that’s the other piece of acreage I mentioned earlier.” He pointed to a large tract of land on the right. “Ron originally purchased this property to develop, but when the larger tract became available, he and his army buddies developed that land instead.” “I wonder why they never improved this property.” “They don’t need the extra acreage at this time, and it’s costly to develop land that’s so densely wooded. Maybe the younger generation at Ravenwood will do something with it someday.” Jillian looked at Mike and smiled. “I’m glad Ron is helping with the investigation.” “Ron is eager to help and having an uncle with his own private militia can be beneficial. Let’s stop for lunch at the Stars and Stripes Restaurant in town. It isn’t fancy, but the food is good, and then I want to show you the historical district.” Mike and Jillian spent the rest of the afternoon in Norris, returning to Ravenwood around four. They found Ron and Ellie in the den watching television. Marcus was asleep on a chair. “Ron, the paint you ordered is in the back of the truck,” Mike said. Ron looked up from the TV show. “Thanks, Mike. Let’s step outside on the porch for a minute.” Once they were outdoors, Ron said, “Two of the fellas I trust with my life are helping me investigate the arms dealing. They’re upset about this too, and we’ve got a promising lead we need to check out. I’d rather not say anything just yet, though, because we don’t want to accuse anyone falsely.” Mike patted his uncle’s back. “I’m glad to have you on the team, Ron.”

Both men were in their mid-twenties and single. Abe was average height and build, and John was slightly taller, on the skinny side. The residents of Ravenwood and the community as a whole viewed them as nice, hardworking young men. As Abe backed out of the driveway, two other trucks pulled in close behind, blocking the exit. Three men stepped out of their trucks and approached. When asked where they were headed, Abe and John stuck to the story of getting supplies and feed, but Ron picked up on their nervousness. Ron returned home three hours later and found Mike in the den with Ellie and Jillian. He sat in his favorite chair and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I got hot running around all morning.” He looked in Ellie and Jillian’s direction and said, “I need to speak with Mike for a few minutes.” “Jillian and I will be in the kitchen,” Ellie said. “It pains me to admit this, but Greta’s great-grandson, Abe, and his friend, John Carpenter, are flashing money around town, and it’s more than what’s made from farming. When questioned, they hemmed and hawed, not admitting to anything, but I need more time to make sure my suspicions are correct.” “This sounds like a good lead, Ron. In the meantime, I’m calling Jim and getting him involved. That other section of land is so dense with forest, someone could conceivably hide out there without detection. For the time being, I’m asking you and your men to stay clear of that area.” Ron agreed. “We’ll keep away from there, but just wait a couple more days before calling Jim. I expect to have a definite answer by then on our lead.” “I want you to keep investigating, but Jim and I can take aerial shots while you’re doing that,” Mike explained. “We’ll do whatever you feel is best,” Ron said. Then he yelled out, “Ellie, come here a minute.” Ellie stuck her head in the doorway. “What do you need, Ron?” “A glass of the special mint tea and something to eat. I’m starting to get hungry.” “Lunch isn’t quite ready, but I’ll make the tea and a light snack for now.” Ron grinned. “Ellie concocted a new iced tea recipe, and at first, I was skeptical of tea flavored with mint, but it’s really good.” The women reappeared in a few minutes with trays of iced tea and tea biscuits. Ellie handed a drink to everyone, and Jillian placed the biscuits and jam on the coffee table. Ron spread blackberry jam on a biscuit and took a bite. “You can’t beat the taste of my wife’s biscuits.” Jillian took a sip of tea and commented, “The mint taste is refreshing.” “I’m glad you like it,” Ellie replied. “The tea is sweeter than usual, but good,” Mike said. “Thank you, Mike.” Ellie’s eyes seemed to darken when she spoke to Mike, but Jillian tried to dismiss the worrisome thought. “I’m building a greenhouse for Ellie this month,” Ron announced. “A couple of the men are helping.” “I’ve been needing one, and Ron designed the plan himself,” Ellie said proudly. “It shouldn’t take long to build either,” Ron added. Once again, Jillian felt drawn to Ellie’s painting with the gargoyles and raven, and the darkness in the room was overpowering. Suddenly, Greta’s voice pierced her consciousness: You have second sight, child. Embrace your gift, and you’ll know the truth. She spoke up. “Mike, I’m not feeling well, and my stomach’s queasy. I think we should leave.” Mike looked at Jillian’s face. “You are a little pale.” Ellie placed her wrist on Jillian’s forehead, then checked her pulse. “You don’t have a fever, and your heart rate is normal. Rest here on the couch while I get a cool washcloth for your forehead. Ron, I need you to get the soda crackers from the overhead cupboard that’s too tall for me to reach. Crackers help settle an upset stomach.” As soon as Ron and Ellie left the room, Jillian took Mike’s hand and whispered, “We’re in danger and must leave now. Your aunt and uncle are not who you think they are. Please trust me.” “Jillian, what you’re saying makes no sense…” Mike didn’t finish the sentence. Her eyes pleaded for him to believe and while he couldn’t comprehend how Ron and Ellie could be involved, he trusted his wife’s psychic ability. He picked up Marcus and was helping Jillian to her feet just as Ron and Ellie walked back into the room carrying rifles. Ron pointed a rifle at Mike, and Ellie pointed one at Jillian. “Sit down, you’re not going anywhere.” Ron’s voice was harsh when he spoke. “What the hell?! Why are you pointing guns at us?” Mike demanded. “Just do as you’re told and don’t try any fancy moves, or Ellie will shoot Jillian. She’s a crack shot, and I promise, this time your wife will stay dead. Take your gun out of the shoulder holster and kick it over here.” Mike was seething with anger over Ron’s threat to Jillian’s life. But seeing the crazed look in his uncle and aunt’s eyes, he set Marcus on the floor and did as ordered. Sensing danger, Marcus took off and hid elsewhere in the house. “I saw the way Jillian stared at the painting above the fireplace and her reaction to it. Greta was right about her being clairvoyant,” Ellie said. “She mentioned it at the committee meeting the first day they met and said the awareness shows in Jillian’s eyes.” Mike had a somber expression when he addressed his uncle. “You’re involved in the arms dealing, aren’t you? If it’s a matter of money, you could have asked me, and I would have given you however much you needed. We’re family, and you and Ellie have been like my own parents. Don’t do this. Please listen to me before it’s too late.” “It’s already too late, Mike. Yes, we’re involved, but not for the reason you think. We’re doing this to protect our families and make a better future for our children. If we don’t, no one else will, and certainly not our government. Ellie and I care about you and Jillian, but you’re FBI through and through, and that will never change. We knew it could come to this one day, with you being an agent. You wouldn’t leave it alone and wait a couple more days like I asked,” Ron said angrily. “We couldn’t allow you to take aerial shots before we had time to clear everything off the land. Just two more days and the arms would have disappeared. Then everything would be blamed on Abe and John. The FBI would assume they left Ravenwood and search elsewhere. Sacrifices are made to further the cause, and as much as Ellie and I hate doing this, you’ve given us no choice.” Mike tried to reason with them. “You always have a choice, Ron. It’s whether you make the right one or the wrong one, and this choice is definitely the wrong one. How can you murder your own brother’s son and his wife? I understand your frustration with everything going on in the world, but violence won’t change anything. The group has accomplished so much already, and Ravenwood is a productive and self-sufficient haven for your families. What made you and Ellie take such drastic measures? You can bring about change in a less combative way, and I would like to help you accomplish that.” Ron considered what Mike said, and Ellie remained silent during the exchange when Ron replied, “In a perfect society, your approach might work, but not in today’s world, so quit trying to plead your case, Mike. I’ll admit, the FBI trained you well in the art of persuasion, but it doesn’t change what we have to do next.” Mike realized his aunt and uncle were beyond his help and incapable of rational thinking. He had to keep them talking and stall for time. Jillian glared at Ellie and Ron. “What did you do to Greta? I always suspected she didn’t die from natural causes,” she accused. Ellie smirked. “Like Greta, you’re too smart for your own good. We tried keeping her out of our plans because she gossiped, but she sensed something in the works and got too nosy. When she wouldn’t stop talking about her suspicions, we made sure she blabbed nothing more. I overheard her talking to you on the patio that day she came to visit, and that sealed her fate. Let’s just say it was her time to die.” “How could you?!” The sheer meanness of it twisted in Jillian’s stomach, combined with sorrow and fury. “Greta was a sweet old lady and wouldn’t have caused you any harm.” “Anyone who opposes our vision for Ravenwood will meet the same end,” Ron said. Jillian knew it was pointless to say anything else. No one will convince Ron and Ellie to see the truth. They’re consumed by darkness. “What happened to Abe and John?” Mike asked. “We realized Abe was a problem after he reacted the way he did to Greta’s death. I warned him to get her to stop spreading gossip, but he didn’t heed my advice, so what happened is on him. I instructed Ed to smother Greta with a pillow to make it look like she died in her sleep. It should have been an easy task, but she woke up and fought like a tiger, so he strangled her with his bare hands. Ed’s a good soldier, but not the brightest penny, and didn’t consider there would be bruising. When Abe found her the next morning, he saw marks on her throat and knew someone had choked her. I thought he was coming around when I explained there will be sacrifices for our cause and this one was necessary, but Abe just pretended to understand. We don’t enjoy doing this, but there will be hard choices and casualties along the way. Abe and John are buried in the woods with Greta. We caught them trying to sneak away, and they would have gone to the cops. At first, Abe and John denied it, saying they were just going to town for supplies and feed, but they confessed the truth after we used certain military interrogation methods. They’d have saved themselves some pain by coming clean right away. Like all traitors, they had to be punished for their misdeeds.” My crazy uncle is still fighting a war! Conflicting emotions of disbelief, anger, hurt, and betrayal overloaded Mike’s senses. His uncle had lied to him repeatedly, and he wondered if Ron had ever told him the truth about anything. Jillian suddenly felt light-headed and passed out. Mike looked at Ellie with contempt. “What did you give Jillian? I swear—” He passed out before finishing his statement. “I didn’t think the drug you put in their tea would ever kick in!” Ron commented. “They wore me out with all that jawing, especially Mike.” Ellie checked their pulses. “The sedative is mild, but they’ll be out a spell. Poison is cleaner and quicker, but I didn’t know to get any from Doc Adams ahead of time.” Ron sighed. “Everything would have been blamed on Abe and John, but Mike had to go and get impatient and spoil things.” “Ron, any thoughts on how to handle this? Shooting them is messy, but I guess we can take them outdoors first,” Ellie complained. “Don’t worry, we’ll work it out. You improvised well with the tea, Ellie. I never expected Mike to call the FBI today since I’d asked him to wait. He’s a big disappointment, especially after everything we’ve done for him over the years.” “If Mike hadn’t joined the FBI, we may have turned him to our way of thinking. That mint tea came in handy once before with Edna Smith, remember?” Ellie reflected. “Like Greta, she ran her mouth too much. Do you know how the Feds caught onto us?” “Maybe one of the guys sold weed to an undercover agent. There’s no telling how they got wind of the arms dealing, and we don’t know how long they’ve been investigating. Mike warned us though, so having a nephew in the FBI worked in our favor this time.” Just then, two men in black uniforms entered through the back door and stood in the kitchen, arms behind their back, military style, awaiting orders. “Take them to the Sanctuary,” Ron instructed. “Lock them up in the bedroom two doors down from the meeting hall. Ellie and I will be there shortly.” On the way out, Ron said, “Ellie, the day we’ve been waiting for is upon us. We’re expected at the Sanctuary now, but I’ll handle the problem with Mike and Jillian later. What’s done is done, and our mission is too important for us to get sentimental.” “One of the fellas can take care of them, Ron,” Ellie suggested. Ron shook his head. “Mike is family, and it’s only right I handle it. I never shirk my duty.” “You never do, but let me help, and we’ll make it quick. I can get injectable poison from Doc Adams if you don’t want to shoot them.” “Let me ponder on it. Thank you, Ellie, for always being beside me, no matter what comes our way.” “That’s a wife’s place, Ron.”

They spoke in their normal voices, assuming Mike and Jillian were still out. “Why aren’t Mike and Jillian tied?” Ron demanded to know. “Sir, I didn’t have rope and couldn’t abandon my post, but there’s no cause for worry. Everything is under control.” Ron gave the young man a scornful look. “Did you ever consider picking up the phone to let somebody know you needed rope? You’re supposed to keep the door locked when you’re on guard duty; didn’t you learn anything from the training you received? Ellie and I are heading to the meeting now, but I’ll send someone back with twine. I planned to handle this myself later today, but your sloppy work calls for a backup plan. Don’t get trigger-happy, but if Mike wakes before you get him tied, shoot him first, then the woman. He has special training and will overpower you otherwise.” “I’m an ace shot with my rifle, so he’ll never get close to me.” Ron grabbed the front of the man’s shirt and shoved him up against the wall, “Boy, you better pay attention, because I’m not telling you again. It doesn’t matter if you’re a good shot, because my nephew is lethal and quicker than you can imagine. He’ll take the gun away from you before you even know what happened. I saw Mike in action once when we stopped for a beer at a local pub and a big guy challenged him. Like I said, I plan on handling this when I return, but be prepared to take action if he wakes before you get him tied. Understood?” The young man’s eyes opened wide as he listened to what Ron was saying. “Yes, sir, and I promise not to take any chances with your nephew.” Ron let go of his shirt and patted him on the shoulder. “That’s the right attitude; and remember, don’t get overconfident in these situations. Failure is not an option, and our cause comes first, even before family. There are casualties of war, and these sacrifices are necessary for the group to survive.” Mike squinted his eyes open just enough to glimpse the guard turn his back and lock the door after Ron and Ellie left. Before the young man could react, Mike used a choke hold, and the guard was out cold. When a second man knocked a few minutes later, Mike opened the door, stood to the side, and incapacitated him with a blow to the larynx. Next, he picked up the twine dropped on the floor and hog-tied the men. Mike searched their pockets and found a knife, but no cell phones, just two-way radios. He cut the bedsheet and used a piece to gag their mouths. Jillian had awakened and sat watching Mike in action, amazed by what she witnessed. Mike turned and seeing Jillian awake, held a finger to his lips, signaling her not to speak. He walked over to the bed and whispered, “I’ll explain later, but we’re getting out of here now. Can you walk?” She nodded her head. He placed the guard’s rifle over his shoulder and listened at the bedroom door before cracking it open. “Stay close,” he murmured and motioned her to follow him. They crept down the hallway, but stopped when Mike heard voices coming from a room. He pulled Jillian back against the wall, and they stood there momentarily while his uncle’s voice resonated over a microphone. Ron stood at the podium addressing the families gathered in the Sanctuary’s large meeting room. Everyone present wore a black uniform with an embroidered emblem on the shirt that read: New World Regime. “When the boys and I returned from ’Nam, the same people we fought to protect treated us like dirt,” he began. "We weren’t heroes who’d returned home from a war, but freaks, ignored by our government and countrymen, even despised by war protestors. As a nation, we lost the war, and this was a new experience for America. I assumed we would win the war, on some level, until halfway through my own tour. Back then, winning wars is something we took for granted in America, but not anymore. “We built Ravenwood as a refuge for our families—a place that no one could take away from us. Now terrorists attack on our country’s soil, and we’re not safe in our own homes. Fellow patriots, we must protect ourselves and keep the faith. No matter what happens, we’ll do what’s required to secure a better future and the safety of our families. We must persevere. Our path ahead won’t be easy or quick, and there will be casualties. No matter what comes our way, we must remain true to our beliefs.” Ron’s voice was boisterous when he ended his impassioned speech with, “A revolution is about to begin, and we’re disciples of the New World Regime.” Pumped with adrenaline, everyone in the room stood and cheered. “Remember, stay close, no matter what happens,” Mike whispered in Jillian’s ear. He located an exit door at the end of the hall, and they moved quietly outside and headed into the woods. Jillian glanced back at the gothic structure with a raven perched on the roof, and at once recognized the place where they had been held captive. “Mike, this building is the Sanctuary in Ellie’s painting,” she said in a hushed tone. Mike nodded his head, letting Jillian know he recognized it as well. They moved swiftly through the woods until they got a safe distance away, then stopped long enough to catch their breath. “The group is preoccupied with whatever they’re planning, which buys us time. We haven’t got much further to go until we reach Norris.” Jillian offered encouragement. “We’re both good hikers, so that’s in our favor.” During the rest of the trek, they limited conversation and concentrated on reaching Norris as soon as possible. Before reaching the business district in town, Mike smashed the rifle against a tree and ditched it in the woods. He didn’t want a kid finding the gun, and he couldn’t very well brandish an assault rifle around town without drawing attention. Ron and Ellie had taken their cell phones, so after reaching Norris, they went into a gas station to speak with the male employee on duty. “Do you have a phone I can use? I’ll pay for the call.” Mike said. “You can use the phone inside, sir, and there’s no need to pay if the call is local,” the young man replied. Mike called Jim and explained what had transpired, then he took Jillian’s hand and approached the garage attendant again. “It was long distance, but this should cover the charge.” He handed the attendant a hundred-dollar bill. “We need a ride to the airport. If you can manage this, I will pay you well for your time.” “Yes, sir!” the attendant’s eyes lit up. “I’ll be glad to give you a ride.” Forty-five minutes later, they pulled into the airport and Mike and Jillian got out at the front entrance. The garage attendant watched as they walked inside the terminal, then scratched his head and looked at the money in his palm. “Three hundred dollars for a drive to the airport,” he said aloud. “City folk are awfully free with money.” He smiled and drove away. Mike used an airport phone to call Jim, letting him know he and Jillian were waiting in the Orchid Lounge at the airport. After Mike hung up, Jillian asked, “When will Jim arrive?” “It won’t be long, but there’s something I need to discuss with you first. FBI agents are heading here in full force, and Jim and I plan to be there when this goes down, but I won’t leave you unguarded. Mark Lewis, one of our agents, is arriving with Jim and will stay with you at the airport until I return. Because of family ties, I want to be there today to talk Ron and the others into surrendering. I doubt it will do any good, considering Ron’s state of mind, but I have to try again. Whatever these radicals are planning won’t go well. The Feds already knew about the group, but needed to pinpoint the leaders. Jim was as shocked as I was to learn that Ron and Ellie are the ringleaders.” Jillian could hear the heartache in Mike’s voice when he spoke of his aunt and uncle. “Mike, I’m so sorry about all of this. No matter what Ron and Ellie have done, I believe they cared about you in their own twisted way.” “That was probably true once, but now, as far as they’re concerned, we’re casualties of war. My aunt and uncle are both crazy. I could see it in their faces when they pointed rifles at us. They orchestrated the murders of Greta, Abe, and John and had no qualms about sacrificing us for the cause. They definitely planned to murder us today after the group meeting. When I was pretending to be asleep, Ron was irate because the guard didn’t have rope to tie us with. He told the guard to shoot us if I woke up before someone got back with rope,” Mike explained as he poured out the events of the day and his feelings. “I trusted my aunt and uncle; I never suspected they were anything but what they appeared to be. It makes me sick to think I introduced you to them.” Jillian said, “When I woke up and you were beating up the guards, taking them out in a matter of seconds, I realized just how well trained you are. I knew that, but didn’t know to what degree!” She looked at him admiringly, then lovingly said, “Mike, none of what happened is your fault. You saved my life back at the Sanctuary and got us to safety. Remember what you told me? We’re not responsible for the actions of others and blaming ourselves serves no purpose.” Mike gave Jillian a quick kiss. “You’re right, and I can’t argue the point, because I said it first.” “Ron and Ellie fooled many people, and I regret not trusting my instincts,” she added. Jillian’s statement surprised Mike. “You had concerns about my aunt and uncle before today?” “I sensed something odd about them the first time we met. Everything seemed too perfect in their home, and Ellie’s painting of the Sanctuary was pretty, but had a strange aura. Of course, we had no idea the painting depicted an actual place. Ron and Ellie welcomed me into their home and treated me like family, so I kept pushing my doubts aside. I was uneasy again when they invited us for dinner and to stay the night, but kept my suspicions to myself. There was no proof of anything, and I didn’t want to believe anything bad about your aunt and uncle, so I ignored my misgivings. They were an important part of your life, after all. Ellie helped plan our wedding, and Ron gave me away! I’m just sorry it took so long to see through their façade. What started out as a noble cause in Ron and Ellie’s minds turned into something entirely different.” “What caused you to realize we were in danger today?” Mike asked, awed. “First, I noticed the dark look in Ellie’s eyes when you complimented her on the mint tea. Then I felt drawn to the Sanctuary painting over the fireplace, and I sensed overpowering darkness in the room. The thing that did it for me, though, was when I received a message from Greta.” Mike’s jaw dropped. “Greta spoke to you?” “Not in the physical sense, but I heard her words in my mind. Once again, she told me to embrace my gift of second sight, and I would see the truth. That’s what she’d said the day I had lunch with her.” Mike shook his head in regret. “Babe, my crazy aunt and uncle fooled us both, but in the end, you knew the truth. When you told me Greta’s death was suspicious, I should have paid attention.” She hastened to reassure him. “You believed what they set out in the front of you. There was no reason to mistrust what Ron and Ellie said, and there was no evidence to support my suspicions.” “I won’t make the mistake of doubting you again.” Jillian’s voice filled with emotion. “And I promise to hold nothing back from you, no matter how difficult.” She rested her head on his shoulder while they continued waiting for Jim and the other FBI agent to arrive.

The FBI addressed the group using powered megaphones, instructing them to come out and surrender their arms. Mike made a special plea to Ron and Ellie to stop what they were doing before anyone got hurt. The group responded by firing high-powered rifles and assault weapons at the agents, followed by an array of hand grenades. The exchange of firepower continued for hours until a series of loud explosions, like bombs, could be heard within the building housing the artillery. Explosives demolished the building and other structures nearby, including the Sanctuary, ending the standoff. Several agents sustained injuries, but none fatal. The FBI didn’t know whether the explosions went off accidentally from the artillery being fired, or if the group had set them off on purpose, preferring death to incarceration. Mike believed it was an accident because Ron had a stubborn nature and would never surrender. The conflict was finally over and had ended badly, as Mike predicted. After some of the smoke cleared, the agents searched the debris, and Jim conferred with Mike afterward. “I’m sorry, Mike, but everyone inside the structures perished. The team is searching for anyone who stayed behind at Ravenwood.” The fire department arrived on the scene within minutes, but all that was left was a pile of rubble. “Jim, I need a ride back to Ron and Ellie’s place to get my car and pick up Marcus. This will be my final visit to Ravenwood.” Jim patted his partner on the back. “People get caught up in craziness and believe they’re doing the right thing, and that was probably true for Ron and Ellie.” “The Vietnam War was the biggest contributing factor. Give me a little time, and I’ll tell you the whole story. Ron gave a speech to the group today that was very telling.” At the airport, Mike walked toward Jillian, and they embraced. Then he turned to Mark and said, “Thanks for taking care of my wife.” “Anytime. I’m sorry about your aunt and uncle, Mike.” “Thanks, Mark.” Jillian looked at Mike, concerned. “I watched the standoff on the television in the lounge, and I’m heartsick about all of this.” “I know you are, sweetheart. Members of the group perished in the explosions, and all the structures, including the Sanctuary, were destroyed. The elderly and young children who stayed behind at Ravenwood are in custody.” “What will happen to them?” “Child Services will try to find homes for the children with relatives or through adoption. The elderly will likely be placed in an assisted living facility, as they don’t pose a threat to anyone given their age.” “What about the homes at Ravenwood?” “It depends on whether they have surviving relatives. Ron told me once that he and Ellie had put their house and land in a trust for me to inherit, but I want no part of it.” Mike shook his head and changed the subject. “Are you ready to go home? I imagine you’re getting a little tired of waiting at this airport.” “You’re back with me now, and that’s all that matters. How will we get home?” “Jim drove me back to Ravenwood, and I got our car.” “Mike, please tell me Marcus is with you. I know he can take care of himself, but I don’t think I can handle anymore drama today.” Mike smiled at her wanly. “He’s in the car waiting for us.” Jillian beamed. “Let’s go home.”

Epilogue

Crystal Lake was calming for Jillian that morning while she and Mike sat outside on the wicker sofa. The weather was pleasant, and they enjoyed the view from the back deck. Shades of blue and green shimmered on the water like crystal. Mike spoke up. “Jim called earlier this morning when Charlotte stopped by to visit. The Bureau knows I’m no longer interested in field work, so they offered me a transfer to profiling. The position requires occasional travel, but primarily working from an office.” “Are you going to accept the reassignment?” “I’ve been mulling it over before saying anything. I wouldn’t travel constantly or be out in the field tracking psychopaths and murderers. Of course, that is how we met, and you had me from the first time I laid eyes on you.” Jillian smiled brightly at Mike. “It was the same for me. You were incredibly handsome—and tall.” He laughed. “That’s what people tell me.” She poked him in the arm playfully. “You’re so full of yourself.” Mike grinned. Then, turning serious, he said, “Remember the FBI found a journal locked away in Ron’s home safe? Well, Jim conveyed more details today when he called. I don’t like dredging this up, but it answers a lot of our questions about the New World Regime. The group was heavy into the militia for self-protection and sold marijuana to pay for artillery and ammunition. Five years ago, they became obsessed with establishing a militia in every state. Notes in the journal detail strategic moves and the willingness to sacrifice their own lives—or anyone else’s—for the cause. The Bureau also found a log that listed the names and locations of each member. As unrealistic as it sounds, the members believed they’d eventually set up the New World Regime in place of the existing government. But then, revolutions begin this way, with people coming together for a common goal. Ron noted in the journal it could take a long time to achieve their goals, and the younger men would continue what the older generation had begun. What started out as homesteads for a few army buddies grew into a cause that led the members astray and cost them their lives.” Jillian pondered the news for a moment, then said, “Ron and Ellie acted supportive of your career with the FBI, but why weren’t they afraid of being discovered? The Sanctuary was hidden from the outside world, though Ellie’s painting was displayed above the fireplace for anyone to see. And I don’t understand how the men at Ravenwood could have built that sophisticated European structure with the turrets and gargoyles.” Mike smirked a bit as he replied, “There’s a saying about keeping friends close and enemies closer. Ron and Ellie knew I would never suspect them to be involved in anything illegal. So, I unknowingly tipped them off about the FBI investigating arms dealing in the area. As for the Sanctuary, I agree that Ravenwood members would have required help constructing it in the beginning because of the design. Ellie liked European architecture, as you saw in her paintings. Its construction was probably an ongoing project over many years and began before they became radicalized. Ron and Ellie may even have intended to live there in the beginning.” “That makes sense. Their log home was beautiful, but in other ways, they appeared content with a simple life. In actuality, they aspired to goals most people never consider.” “My great-aunt told me years ago that Ron suffered post-traumatic stress syndrome following the war, but she said he’d recovered. He may have led a normal life for years, but at some point, he lost the ability to think rationally. Ellie played a big role in all of this and obviously had a screw loose. You picked up on the obsessive compulsiveness with their home, and it’s clear now there were other mental issues.” Jillian frowned. “Yes, but Ron and Ellie involved with arms dealing is still hard to imagine. Greta lived a long life, but the way she died was horrible. I’ll never understand how they could do that.” “The same with Abe and John, and perhaps others. The group murdered anyone who opposed their ideology.” Jillian shared her thoughts. “People with similar experiences and needs may be more vulnerable to cults. The cult becomes family, and a common goal becomes the focus in life. People lose their grip on reality and can’t distinguish right from wrong anymore. The cause is all that matters.” “Babe, you’d be a good profiler,” Mike said with admiration. “Thanks, but getting back to our earlier topic, are you seriously considering a new profiling position with the FBI?” “Only if we both want this. We’ll be committed to living in Alexandria during the week, but can come back to Crystal Lake on weekends.” Jillian detected excitement in Mike’s voice when he spoke of the new role with the FBI. She smiled at him. “I love our home in Alexandria as much as here, so that’s not a problem. If you return to the Bureau and don’t like profiling, try something else. We’ve got the financial means, so do whatever makes you happy. I’ve been considering getting back into photography, but I don’t want to travel either, which is necessary with freelance work.” “Why not open your own photography studio?” “I considered that once, but didn’t want to spend the money.” “There’s nothing stopping you now; I’m more than happy to finance the business.” “Mike, I would feel awful if the studio didn’t work out, and you lost your investment. If I do this, it will be with the money my mother and stepfather left me.” “Jillian, you should hold on to your inheritance. What’s the point of having money if you won’t let me spend any on you? Besides, you’re a talented photographer, and I don’t believe a studio for you would be a loss. Let’s make a deal that if you do this, I’ll fund the studio until it pays for itself.” “I’ll insist on repaying you.” Jillian was firm on the subject. “We’ll discuss that part later. I’m sure we can work something out for repayment that’s mutually satisfying.” Jillian laughed. “You already have this part figured out.” Mike grinned. “We have three weeks before I’d have to report back to active service. We should take a vacation.” “Where should we go?” “Someplace quiet and relaxing, like a tropical island, and I bet we can leave Marcus with Charlotte.” “A tropical island sounds wonderful. Chip is the only dog Marcus gets along with, and Charlotte has kept him on other occasions.” “We’ll start on the itinerary tonight.” Mike leaned over to kiss her, but Marcus jumped up on the wicker sofa and interrupted. Jillian laughed and rubbed his head. He responded by purring loudly and sprawling out on the wicker sofa between them. He’d developed a close bond with Mike while Jillian was away and belonged to both of them now. “Marcus, you have the worst timing.” Mike stood up and offered Jillian his hand. “Let’s give him our seat for a while since he’s taken most of it anyway. Want to browse through an antique shop in the village and have lunch afterward?” She slipped her arm through his. “Charlotte told me about a new Italian restaurant that opened in the square and said the food is excellent. So, it’s settled, you’re definitely going back to the FBI next month?” “Yes, but you’re not getting me out of the house this easily. I’ll be hanging around a lot,” Mike teased. “I’m counting on it.” Jillian looked over at Marcus as they were leaving and said, “We’ll be back soon, big guy.” Marcus opened his eyes briefly, then took a nice, long nap, basking in the warmth of the sun. The End

← Prev
Back
Next →

← Prev
Back
Next →