She unlocked the front door and walked straight through to the kitchen and went right to the refrigerator. She took out two bottles and put them on the counter.

“I’m afraid I can’t offer you anything to snack on with that,” she told him. “I don’t keep much food in the house.”

He was staring at the open refrigerator. “It looks like you don’t keep any food in the house. I haven’t seen a cupboard that bare since I read about Old Mother Hubbard.”

Fiona laughed. “I never know what time I’m going to get home. I did used to try to buy stuff to make for dinner, but it always went bad because I was too tired to cook once I got home. So I started doing takeout.”

“You do takeout every night?”

She nodded. “It works for me.”

“I’m impressed. Most people who do a lot of takeout are overweight. You certainly are not.” He opened both their bottles and handed one back to her. “You look terrific.”

“Let’s go sit out back on the steps,” she suggested, trying not to read anything at all into his comment.

She unlocked the back door and they went outside. There was a landing that could not be considered a porch, but the stairs were wide enough to serve as comfortable seating. They sat side by side on the top step, the distance between them not enough to keep them from bumping arms or shoulders from time to time.

“I sit out here every night,” she told him. “Rain, snow, whatever. I like to watch the trees turn with the seasons.” She pointed to a wooded area at the end of her long narrow back yard. “The deer come out most nights, if I time it right.”

She pointed to a tall pine at the side of her garage. “There’s a pair of hawks who sit up there, watching the bird feeders. I had to take mine down. They were picking off the little ones that came to eat.”

She turned to him. “You must have a lot of wildlife out where you’re from.”

Sam nodded. “Bears, deer, elk, raccoons, prairie dogs, bobcats, mountain lions, coyotes, antelope, big-horned sheep, depending on the part of the state you’re in.”

“Stop.” She laughed. “You had all those animals living near you?”

“Pretty much, yeah. I’m from an area close to the western part of the state. It’s still pretty much the way you might picture the Old West in some places.”

“You ever think of moving back there?”

“Not in this lifetime.” He shook his head. “My family farmed. It isn’t for me. My brother and sister are still there, wouldn’t live anyplace else. They’re always trying to get me to come back. They have families, though, and I understand the appeal of raising your kids in a place like Blackstone.”

“Blackstone?”

“The town where I grew up.” He laughed softly. “Town is a bit of a stretch. We do have a grocery store, a bank, a feed store, a café… that sort of thing. Not much more, though. I guess it’s not as bad with the Internet-you can buy anything and have it shipped to your door, which is great for people who have no stores nearby, but we didn’t have anything like that when I was growing up. If we needed to shop for almost anything, we’d have to go to Henderson Falls. That’s the nearest big town. The regional junior high was there-we only had a grade school in Blackstone.” Sam grinned. “And they have a library. My mom spent a lot of time there in the afternoons. She’d have to come in to pick me up from football practice every day, so she’d meet my sisters at the library every day and they’d do their homework and mom would read all the latest magazines and pick up the latest novels. She loved mysteries, romances, thrillers. She still spends a part of every afternoon reading.”

He paused, as if remembering.

“And Henderson Falls has several streets with houses on them.” When she laughed, he turned and explained why that was worthy of note. “Blackstone was mostly a farm community. There were a few houses in town, but not many. We only had about five different streets.”

He was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. When he turned toward her, they were almost eye to eye. She held his gaze, wondering who was going to look away first. She might still have been wondering if her phone hadn’t started to ring.

“I should get that.” She went inside and looked for her phone, found it at the bottom of her purse.

She listened for a long time, asked a few questions before saying, “All right. We’ll be there.”

Fiona turned off the phone and stood in the kitchen, wondering how she was going to tell Sam what she’d just been told. Moments later she heard the back door open and close, and she looked up to see Sam come into the room.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Fiona cleared her throat. “There’s been another killing. Same MO. There’s no question it’s our guy. We need to go. John’s having a plane sent for us in less than an hour.”

“Where this time?”

“Henderson Falls, Nebraska.”

He stared at her for what seemed to be a long time, the color draining from his face.

“Who’s the victim?”

“They don’t have a name just yet.”

He took his phone from his pocket and speed-dialed a number.

“Kitty. Hey, it’s Sam. Yeah, everything’s fine. Listen, can I speak to Tom…?” He stared out the window, his eyes focused on something she could not see. “Do you know when he’ll be back? Would you have him call me? No, no, nothing’s wrong, Kitty. I just need to ask him something. Just tell him to call… he has the number.”

He hung up the phone and turned his face to Fiona’s. “My brother went into Henderson Falls to pick up a part for his tractor,” he told her. “He isn’t back yet.”

“You don’t think he’s…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

“If this guy’s trying to get to me and thinks he’s failed, what else can he do but make me come to him?”

FIFTEEN

Agent Parrish, what else can I get for you?” Trula stood at the side of the kitchen table, her hands on her hips, and pointedly ignored the glare Robert was sending her way.

He knew she was ignoring him, knew the FBI agent had overstayed his welcome now by about two hours. Two hours the man had spent mostly talking to Susanna.

“Not another thing. You’ve already been way too good to me,” the agent replied. “I haven’t tasted cookies like that since my grandmother stopped baking and took up tennis.”

“How old was she when she did that?” Trula asked as if it really mattered.

“She was into her sixties when she started taking lessons.”

“God bless her,” Trula smiled.

“Let’s wrap this up, can we?” Robert grumbled. He’d had about enough of this good-looking guy monopolizing Susanna’s time. He had a business to run, and Suse was an integral part of it. He glanced at the clock. It was now late in the afternoon, well past the time Suse usually left for home.

“Ms. Jones, I’m just so impressed that you were able to locate the exact place where Mrs. Magellan’s car went off the road, after all that time, and after all those law enforcement agencies had given up.” Luke Parrish’s smile was one of admiration.

“There was no giving up,” Susanna replied. “And call me Susanna.”

“Then call me Luke.” The agent turned to Robert. “You are so lucky to have such a clever investigator on your staff.”

Before Robert could respond, Susanna said, “Oh, I’m not one of the investigators. I’m Robert’s personal assistant.”

Parrish raised an eyebrow and told Robert, “Her talent is being wasted.” To Susanna, he said, “You should think about applying to the FBI. You’d be great in the field.”

“I’m afraid I’m past the age of recruitment.”

“You have to be kidding. You don’t look a day over thirty,” Parrish told her.

Robert could barely believe his eyes. Susanna was blushing.

Susanna never blushed. At least, Robert could not remember a time when she had.

“So tell me what you’re going to do to find my son,” Robert said to bring everyone back on point.