“We’ll leave the windows down on the way home and it’ll air dry. And as for that black stuff”-he looked down at the front of his shirt-“hey, it’s only a shirt.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“You’ve suffered a great loss, Fiona. You’re going to be mourning for a long time.” He leaned back and looked down into her eyes. “You don’t have to be the iron woman all the time, you know.”

“I don’t usually lose control like that.”

“I promise not to tell anyone.” His lips were close to her ear. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She nodded, wanted to tell him that she knew that all of her secrets would be safe with him. She turned her head to catch his mouth with hers, and kissed him, silently begging him to kiss her back with everything he had. She sunk her hands into his hair and held on. His hands skimmed her body, slowly at first, gliding over her breasts over her shirt, and her hips over her skirt in gentle waves. But soon she wanted-needed-to feel his hands on her skin. She pulled her shirt from the waistband and started to unbutton it, her fingers trembling on the buttons, his mouth following the slow exposure of her skin. He lifted her, turning them both around so that her back was against the hard metal of the car, pinning her there with his body while he touched and tasted every bit of her that was exposed.

It wasn’t enough.

She yanked up her skirt and he moved away from her just enough so that she could pull it up to her hips. Her legs freed, she wrapped them around his hips and pulled him as close to her as she could, her brain filling with a foggy darkness in which there was only Sam and his hands and his mouth and his body. Her skin smoldered everywhere he touched and the heat overwhelmed her.

“Sam,” she whispered, needing more. “Sam…”

They moved against each other, with each other, need soon overtaking want.

“Fiona, maybe we should…” Sam gasped.

“… get into the car. Right.” She nodded. “Get into the car…”

He carried her, her legs still wrapped around him, and opened the door to the back seat. He slid her down his body until she hit the seat, then pushed her back. She slid along the seat until her head hit the passenger door, one leg on the floor. Sam eased onto her, his body moving against hers, his hands and lips suddenly everywhere, and she could not get enough. She arched up against his mouth when it covered her breast, and urged him to take more of her, all of her.

“Make love to me, Sam,” she whispered. “I need you to make love to me…”

She shuddered when he entered her, soft moans in the back of her throat when he began to move with a slow rhythm, sending tiny ripples spreading throughout her body. Soon the tempo changed, and they moved together, flying together, lost to everything else except each other. She closed her eyes and rode it out, until they crashed together, and slowly came back down to earth.

She lay beneath him, listening to his breathing as it attempted to return to normal.

“So,” she said, clearing her throat. “I suppose that was how you do ‘after prom’ out here in the heartland o’ America?”

Sam laughed and buried his face in her hair.

“Is that how you celebrated your first prom?” she asked.

“I’m sure I would have jumped at the chance, but no. I went to my first prom with Phyllis Banks. She had three brothers, all of whom played football at Notre Dame. There was no ‘after prom’ that year. Besides, I didn’t have a car. We went with two other couples in Vic’s dad’s ten-year-old station wagon.”

“Whose car is this, anyway?” she asked.

“Luke’s.”

“Arrrgghh.” She buried her face in his chest.

“What?”

“Luke and I go way back.”

“How far back?”

“Like, to the Academy.”

“Were you and he, ahhh…”

“No. But he’s like a brother to me. I can’t believe we just had sex in Luke’s car.”

“Does it help to know it’s a rental?”

She laughed and struggled to sit up, wondering where her clothes were. She looked past Sam and frowned.

“Sam, you left the car door open?”

“My legs are too long, I couldn’t close the door.”

“Didn’t you think about what would happen if someone had come along?”

“I wasn’t exactly in thought mode at the time.” He sat up and looked out the windows and sighed. “Well, that was one hell of a way to greet the dawn, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to get back to the farm. Luke threatened to put out an APB if we weren’t back by the time he got up.”

He glanced at his watch.

“If he’s running on schedule, I’d say we have about ten minutes before he rolls down for breakfast.”

“How far away are we?” She slipped her shirt over her shoulders and began to button it.

“About twenty minutes.” He leaned over and kissed her, then grabbed his clothes and hurried into them. “We’re going to have to make tracks if we’re going to head off the posse.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Drew’s funeral is today at three,” Kitty told Sam when he and Fiona strolled onto the front porch. Sam knew she was dying to know where he’d been since midnight the night before, and why it had taken him a full eight hours to drive to Brightcliffe and back. And why Fiona had what looked suspiciously like whisker burns on both sides of her neck. But he also knew she’d cut out her tongue before she asked.

“Why so soon?” He frowned.

“The Novaks don’t believe in embalming,” Tom replied. “Never did, none of ’em. So since the coroner has released the body to the funeral home, there’s no reason not to bury him, and a very compelling one why they should.”

“That means they’ve established a cause of death,” Sam said. “I’ll give Doc Jensen a call.”

He excused himself and went inside, Fiona following him. It took him only a minute to find out what he wanted to know.

“No surprise there,” Sam told her when he hung up the phone. “Manual strangulation. The stabbing was all postmortem, just like the others.”

“Where the hell have you been?” Luke walked into the kitchen as if on a mission.

“Fiona’s plane was late,” Sam said at the exact moment Fiona told Luke, “We had a flat tire.”

Luke’s eyes shifted from one to the other then back again. He shook his head and put out his hand. Sam tossed him the car keys and Luke grabbed them in midair.

“We need to have a powwow about you going to the funeral this afternoon,” Luke told him.

“There is no way in hell I am not going to Drew’s funeral, so don’t even bother trying to talk me out of it.”

“That’s pretty much what we figured you’d say. So let’s lay down some rules, okay?” Luke pointed to the table. “Have a seat, and let’s talk this out.”

Sam sat with his back against the wall, Fiona across the table from him, her cool façade having returned.

“As duly elected spokesperson for the posse,” Luke began, “we’re thinking that you need to stay in plain sight the entire time. No walking off to have a private word with anyone, no hanging back at the church, no going off alone at the cemetery, understood?”

Sam nodded. “I’m with you so far.”

“We’re all going to be attending, and will be spread out around the church. It goes without saying that we will all be armed. I think you need to be, too.”

“I’m okay with that, too.”

“Good. Now, as far as the other mourners are concerned, you are going to need to be hyperobservant. We will be watching the crowd, but we don’t know these people. You do. You’re going to have to be aware of anyone who’s acting out of character. We all know that it is pretty much a given that our guy is going to be in that church.”

“I’ve already thought of that, Luke.” Sam nodded. “There’s no question in my mind that he’ll be there. For one thing, if we are correct in assuming he is a member of this community, he’s going to have to be there. Everyone around here knew Drew, the killer included, and most people liked him. And yes”-he addressed Fiona-“I have come to the conclusion that you’ve been right all along. This guy is someone I know, probably someone I know well. I don’t know what set him off, but for the record, I agree with your theory. I want to catch this guy, probably more than anyone else does.”