Daniel frowned. “I would’ve thought Alex would have mentioned that right away. I’ll ask her.”

“Did you tell her about the hair?” Chase asked.

“Yeah, I did. On the way to the scene this morning I asked her what happened to all of Alicia’s stuff. She said her aunt Kim had it shipped to Ohio and the boxes have been in storage ever since. But she also said that she and Bailey and Alicia shared clothes and makeup and hairbrushes, and Bailey and Alicia were sharing a bedroom at the time because Alicia was mad at Alex about something. That hair could still have come from Bailey’s house recently.”

“I don’t think so,” Ed said. “If it had been tangled in a brush all this time, it would be kinked, but it’s straight-and free of dust. It’s been kept sealed up.”

“A souvenir of the rape,” Chase said slowly. “Damn.”

“And, uh, there is one other thing.” Ed put a plastic bag on the table.

Daniel held it up to the light. “A ring with a blue stone. Where did you find this?”

“In the bedroom Alex told us used to be hers, right under the window.”

“She stared at her hands when Gary Fulmore talked about the ring Alicia wore,” Daniel said quietly. “Gary said it was on Alicia’s hand when he wrapped her up, but Wanda in the sheriff’s office said they found it in Fulmore’s pocket.”

“If the ring was on her finger when she was discovered, the Dutton sheriff’s office tampered with evidence,” Chase said, just as quietly.

Daniel sighed. “I know. We need to know if that ring was on her finger when she was found or not. I’m going down to Dutton this morning to talk to Garth and his uncle about Sean Romney’s death. I’ll stop by and talk to the Porter boys while I’m there. They found Alicia. I’ll see if I can find out if they remember a ring. Luke, will you process all the names Leigh got from the yearbooks?”

Luke looked at the printouts their clerk had produced the day before with a grimace. “Where do you want me to start?”

“For now, focus on the public school where Simon, Wade, and Rhett graduated and the private school where Garth and I graduated. See if any of them have records or histories of violent behavior. See if any of them have been… I don’t know, involved in anything weird.”

Luke gave him a dubious look. “Weird. Okay.”

“And I’ll finish calling all the potential targets I didn’t talk to yesterday,” Chase said with a sigh. “Maybe we can head him off at the pass before he bags another one.”

Dutton, Thursday, February 1, 8:35 a.m.

He stepped onto his front porch, bone-tired after another night of watching over Kate. He’d actually fallen asleep sometime after 4:00 a.m. When he’d woken, the sun was shining and Kate was pulling out of her driveway to go to work. She’d nearly seen him, and then he would have had to explain. Given the three dead women, he could probably just say he was worried, but Kate was too smart for that. She’d suspect more.

This had to be over soon. One way or the other. His wife met him at the door, her eyes red from weeping, and his heart started to race. “What happened?”

“Your uncle Rob’s here. He’s been waiting for you since six. Sean’s dead.”

“What? Sean’s dead? When? How?”

She looked at him, her lips trembling. “Who did you expect to be dead?”

He hung his head, too exhausted to think. “Kate.”

She let out a quiet breath. “Rob’s in the library.”

His uncle sat by the window, his face gray and haggard. “Where have you been?”

He took the chair next to Rob. “Watching over Kate. What happened?”

“They found him in an alley.” His voice broke. “They couldn’t even identify him at first. There was too much blood on his face. The police said they’d been looking for Sean, that they’d put his picture on the news. My grandson, on the news.”

“Why were they looking for him?”

Rob’s eyes filled with rage. “Because,” he gritted out, “they said they had proof he was helping the person who killed Claudia Silva and Janet Bowie and Gemma Martin.”

“And Lisa Woolf,” his wife added from the library doorway. “I just saw it on CNN.”

Rob turned to him, bitterness in every line of his face. “And Lisa Woolf. So you tell me what you know. And you tell me now.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know anything.”

Rob lurched to his feet. “You lie! I know you lie.” He pointed a trembling finger. “You wire a hundred thousand dollars to an offshore account Tuesday night. Then yesterday I get a visitor in the bank, checking out Rhett Porter’s safe-deposit box.”

He felt the color drain from his face. Still, he lifted his chin. “So?”

“So, when he left he said, ‘Tell Garth I have it.’ What does he mean?”

“You paid someone a hundred thousand dollars?” His wife’s expression was one of stunned shock. “We don’t have that kind of money, Garth.”

“He took it from the kids’ college fund,” Rob said coldly.

His wife’s mouth dropped open. “You sonofabitch. I have taken a lot from you over the years, but now you steal from your own children?”

It was unraveling. All of it. “He threatened Kate.”

“Who?” Rob demanded.

“Whoever’s killing all these women. He threatened Kate and Rhett. So I paid to keep Kate alive. The next morning Rhett was dead.” He tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. “And to keep Kate safe, I’ll pay again.”

“You will not,” his wife screeched. “My God, Garth, are you crazy?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I’m not crazy. Rhett is dead.”

“And you think this guy killed him,” Rob said calmly. “Like he killed Sean.”

“I didn’t know about Sean,” he said. “I swear. He didn’t send Sean’s picture.”

Rob lowered himself to the chair. “He sent you pictures,” he said thinly.

“Yes. Of Kate. And Rhett.” He hesitated. “And of others.”

His wife slowly sat on the loveseat. “We have to tell the police,” she said.

He laughed bitterly. “That we definitely will not do.”

“He could come after our children. Have you considered that?”

“In the last five minutes? Yes. Before I heard about Sean, no.”

“You know why this killer is doing all this,” Rob said coldly. “You will tell me and you will tell me now.”

He shook his head. “No, I won’t.”

Rob’s eyes narrowed. “And why not?”

“Because I don’t know who killed Rhett.”

“Garth, what’s going on here?” his wife whispered. “Why can’t we go to the police?”

“I’m not going to tell you. Believe me, you’re safer not knowing.”

“You don’t care about our safety. You’ve gotten yourself sucked into some mess that involves us. Me and your children. So don’t give me that… bullshit. Tell me or I’m walking out of here and going to the police right now.”

She was serious. She would go to the police. “Do you remember Jared O’Brien?”

“He disappeared,” Rob said, his voice flat and detached.

“Well, yeah. He probably got drunk and ran himself off a road one night and…” She went pale. “Like Rhett. Oh my God. Garth, what have you done?”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer.

“Whatever it was, someone’s coming after you because of it,” Rob said. “If it was only you, I’d let them. But by God, this is destroying my family. We all know Sean wasn’t as bright as the rest of you. He used him, used him and killed him to send you a message.” He stood. “No more, Garth.”

He looked up at his uncle. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Are you going to the police?” his wife asked, crying now.

Rob scoffed. “Not in this town.”

Garth stood. Looked his uncle in the eye. “I wouldn’t say anything if I were you, Rob.”

Rob’s eyes narrowed to slits. “And why not?”

“You have a few hours? Actually, it would only take me a few minutes. A few well-placed calls and you’ll have a bank examiner down your shorts so fast…”