Joe got up from the table, grabbed the box of Rice Krispies from the cabinet, got the skim milk out of the refrigerator, and then reached for a tablespoon and the biggest bowl he could find. "This Brenner guy increased his offer by twenty percent to buy the woman’s bakery, huh?"

Laurant gave him a surprised look.

"I listened to your messages," he stated. "And it sounded to me like Margaret’s close to folding. The deal could be too good to pass up, especially if she’s as old as she sounded over the phone."

"She isn’t that old, but you’re right. The money would be her retirement."

"You’re trying to save the town, aren’t you?" Joe asked.

She shook her head. "No, I’m only trying to save the town square. I don’t understand why people think progress means tearing down beautiful old buildings to put up slick new ones. It doesn’t make any sense to me. The town will be fine with or without the square, but the charm… the history… that will be lost."

Nick watched her stir the tea. She’d been doing that for the last couple of minutes, but she hadn’t taken a drink yet. She sat motionless, staring pensively at the swirling liquid in the cup. The sound of the spoon clinking against Joe’s empty bowl eventually drew her attention.

Laurant noticed that he glanced at his wrist as he carried the dish to the sink.

"Joe, why do you keep looking at your watch?" she asked.

"’Cause I’ve got it wired," he answered. "If the red light goes off on the panel I’ve hooked up in the guest room, it will trigger the alarm on my watch."

Thunder cracked close by, and it began to rain. Joe was thrilled by the sound. "Mother Nature’s going to help us out tonight. Let’s just hope the storm’s a bad one."

"You want a bad storm?"

"I sure do," he answered. "Because Nick wants to disable the camera after you two have put on your little performance for our unsub. I’m gonna make the lights flicker a couple of times, and then I’m gonna turn everything off. I’ll hit the main switch," he explained. "When the lights come back on, the camera won’t."

"I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep with the camera watching you," Nick said.

"No, I wouldn’t. Thank you," she said, relieved.

"The camera’s plugged into an outlet up in the attic," Joe told her. "We’re hoping he’ll come inside to turn it back on, thinking that the breaker just needs to be reset."

She nodded. "And you’ll be waiting for him."

She propped her elbow on the table, rested her chin in the palm of her hand, and stared at the back window with its blinds closed.

Was he out there now, watching and waiting for his opportunity? How would he come at her? While she was sleeping? Or would he wait until she was outside and try to grab her then?

Rain began to pelt the windows.

"You guys ready to go upstairs?" Joe asked. "The storm could slow down any time, and I want to take advantage of this opportunity while it lasts. I’ll go down to the basement and mess with the circuits. You two wait here until after I’ve turned the lights off and flipped them back on. Then you go upstairs and do your thing. I’ll give you five minutes and then I’ll turn everything off again. Nick, you dismantle the camera and when you’ve done that, shout down to me, and I’ll turn the lights back on."

"Got it," he agreed.

"There’s a flashlight on the hallway chest," he said. "So you’ll be able to see what you’re doing." Joe pushed the chair back and stood. "Okay, just sit tight until the lights come back on. I’m going to keep flickering them every couple of seconds. I’ll yell when you can go up."

He hurried around the corner into the back hall and down the basement steps. Nick stood in the doorway, waiting.

"You didn’t drink any of your tea. I figured out why you made it."

She glanced up at him. "What’s there to figure out?"

The lights flickered twice, then went completely out. It was suddenly pitch black in the kitchen.

"Don’t get spooked." His voice was a soothing whisper in the darkness.

"I won’t," she assured him.

A flash of lightning lit the room for the briefest of seconds, and Laurant half expected to see a face looming in the gray light. She was getting spooked, sitting in that tiny room where he had made himself at home. God, how she wished she could jump in the car and run away. Why oh why had she come back?

Nick’s voice eased her budding panic. "Making tea is how you cope, isn’t it?"

She turned in his direction and tried to see him in the darkness.

"What did you say?"

"When you get stressed, you stop everything you’re doing and make yourself a cup of hot tea. You did that a couple of times in Kansas City while we were at the rectory. You never drink it though, do you?"

Before she could answer, the lights came back on and Joe shouted, "Let’s do it."

Nick took Laurant’s hand and gently pulled her from the chair. He didn’t let go of her as they went through the house and up the stairs. With each step she took toward the bedroom, her heartbeat escalated until it felt like it was slamming against her rib cage. The linen closet door was open, but she couldn’t see the camera.

Nick paused with his hand on the doorknob. "This has to look real. You understand what I mean? We want to provoke him, remember? That means we’ve got to get hot and heavy in there, and you’ve got to act like you’re enjoying it."

"You’re going to have to act like you’re enjoying it too," she pointed out. Lord, she was suddenly so nervous her voice cracked.

"Nah, I’m not going to have any trouble at all. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you for a long time. Ready?"

"Just try to keep up with me."

He wanted a seductress, and by God, that’s what he was going to get. She was determined to give the performance of a lifetime. They had the same goal in mind, to make the madman so jealous he would forget caution and come after her. They hoped his fury would drive him to do something careless. It was too late for second thoughts.

"Hey," Nick whispered. "Smile." He grinned as he added, "Maybe we ought to practice a little first. How long has it been since you’ve been tossed in the hay and mauled."

"A couple of days," she lied. "How about you?"

"Longer than that. Any surprises inside?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don’t know. The usual stuff all young ladies keep at their disposal. Chains and whips on the walls. The standard equipment handed down from mother to daughter."

She kept a straight face. "What kind of girls have you been hanging out with?"

"Good girls," he assured her. "Real good girls."

Laurant knew that Nick was trying to get her to laugh so she wouldn’t have stage fright.

As she pushed past him, she said, "Sorry, no surprises inside. Every girl has mirrors on her ceiling, doesn’t she?"

He was laughing when she opened the door. She went in first flipped on the lights, and headed for the bed.

It turned out to be easier than she’d expected. She simply pretended she was modeling again. In her mind, the bed was the end of the runway, and it was her job to get there using every part of her body. She moved with easy grace, her hips swaying to the music she could hear in her mind, a pouty look on her face.

Nick watched from the doorway, stunned by the swift change in Laurant. She tossed her long thick curls provocatively over her shoulder as she glanced back at him with a sultry come-and-get-me look. When she reached the foot of the double bed, she turned and beckoned him forward with the crook of her finger. He had to remind himself that it was all an act. If eyes could smolder with passion, hers could burn down the house.

He walked toward his temptress, but she wasn’t quite finished shocking the hell out of him. As he reached for her, she shook her head, took a step back away from him and then slowly began to unbutton her blouse. She never took her gaze off him, staring directly into his eyes, waiting, teasing, beckoning.