“He was a good guy. Kind of funny and sweet…” She swallowed. “Mom thought he was the perfect match for me. Nice, solid, and steady. She was hoping he’d be able to persuade me to—” She stopped and drew a shaky breath. “How am I going to tell Mom about this? She thought the world of him, and now he’s—”

Head on a pole.

Headless corpse in a chair.

Mereor.

“You don’t have to tell her yet.” Lynch set the coffee in front of her. “Griffin is trying to keep the details of what happened from the media. You’ll have a few hours at least.”

“No more than that. I can’t risk her hearing it from someone else.” She took a sip of the coffee. It was hot and strong, and she needed it. “I just … don’t know how yet. How can I tell her that Dean Halley died because she arranged a blind date for me with him? Because that’s what happened, isn’t it? Myatt saw him with me at some time or other and decided that he’d be a perfect chess piece in this game he and Colby were playing with me.”

Head on a pole.

Back away. Don’t think of that unspeakable sight.

“Myatt thinks he’s won. He thinks he’s hurt me.”

“And has he?” Lynch asked quietly.

“Yes, he’s hurt me. No, he’s not won.” She took another sip of coffee. “I just have to be able to think again. It may take a while.” Her lips twisted. “But I may not be able to afford that time. He’s closing in on me, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” He took his own cup from the coffeemaker. “But I won’t let him get any closer. I have your back.”

“Do you?” She looked at him over the rim of her cup. “That can be dangerous. Dean wanted to protect me, too.”

“I have your back,” he repeated. “There’s no comparison between Halley and me.” He added bluntly, “If anyone’s going to end up on a pole, it’s not going to be me. Or you.”

Sledgehammer. But she welcomed that roughness at this moment. It soothed the rawness and shock and brought her back to what they were together.

“No, that’s not going to happen again. I’ll be sure—” Her phone rang.

San Quentin. Salazar.

She tensed. “It’s Warden Salazar.” On some layer of consciousness she had been expecting the call, but the night had been so full of horror that she had not been able to process it. Yet she knew that what was going on at San Quentin had been there, hanging over her through everything that had happened tonight. She punched the access button. “Kendra Michaels. Is it over?”

“Yes, Colby was pronounced dead at 12:09 A.M. I’d have called you sooner, but I had to make arrangements to get his body off the prison grounds as soon as possible.” He added sourly, “Those anti-death-penalty demonstrators at the gates were having too much fun mugging for the cameras and burning me in effigy because I obeyed the law.”

“Dead.” She felt weak with relief. “Thank God. I knew it was going to happen, but I was afraid the governor would change his mind and give him life instead.”

“That wasn’t an option he would have chosen,” Salazar said. “The voters would have sent him a clear message of disapproval at the next election.” He paused. “And I admit I’m glad to be done with Colby myself. My duty is not to judge but to enforce the law. But I stared down at that ugly face twisted by evil and death when they were putting him in the bag and I felt that justice truly had been done.”

“Not entirely. He should have died years ago. That’s what the father of one of his victims told me very recently. That I should have killed him instead of just wounding him in that gully where we captured him.”

“That’s between you and your conscience.”

“Yes, it is. But my conscience is screaming that I was wrong. If I’d killed him then, he wouldn’t have been able to influence Myatt, and we wouldn’t have had a whole string of new murders to deal with.” And Dean Halley wouldn’t have been one of them. He’d be riding his motorcycle and joking and living the good life.

“I was hoping your time with Colby would lead you to Myatt. I was sorry to have to ask you to Skype with him yesterday. I know it upset you.”

“You had to do what you had to do. It was my choice. Thank you for phoning and telling me about Colby. I appreciate it.”

“I wanted to bring you closure.” He paused. “I was considering not telling you about Colby’s last statement, but I decided you should know.”

“Statement?”

“Not a verbal statement. He carved it on his chest. Just one word.”

A chill went through her. One word.

“Mereor,” she whispered.

He was silent. “Yes. It seems I made the right decision. Good night, Dr. Michaels.”

She hung up the phone and turned to Lynch. “Colby died at 12:09 A.M.”

“Hallelujah,” he said softly.

She nodded jerkily. “Salazar said he wanted to bring me closure. Nice thought, but there’s no way. Not while Myatt’s out there acting like a Colby Wannabe.”

“We’ve cut off the head of the snake with Colby’s death.”

“Some freaky snakes have two heads. Haven’t you heard?”

“I’ve run into a few.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “One victory at a time. We’ll get Myatt, then I’ll mount that two-headed snake on our living-room wall.”

She smiled shakily. “But then we’d have to displace Ashley. All I want is to have him as dead as Colby.” She added, “But we have to get him soon. He concocted this horrible bloody plan tonight to give his hero a glorious send-off. Or maybe Colby concocted it. The same word was carved on Colby’s chest.” She was feeling a panicky urgency begin to ice through her. “We have to stop Myatt in his tracks. We don’t know who else is being targeted. Maybe I should go back to Dean’s house and go over the forensic evidence. I should probably have done it tonight before I—”

“No,” he said firmly. “Go to bed and get a few hours’ sleep.”

He was right. She was not much better mentally than she had been before.

And she still had to phone her mother and tell her that her good friend, Dean, was dead.

“I’ll be in touch with Griffin,” Lynch said. “If there’s anything new, I’ll wake you.”

She put her cup down on the bar and stood up. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” She moved toward the door. Her smile was bittersweet as she glanced over her shoulder. “Too bad Dean didn’t have an ironclad fortress like this one to keep that bastard out.”

“Yeah, he was probably taken by surprise.” Lynch stood looking at her. “I’m here for you if you need me. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know it,” she said wearily. “Thanks.” She moved down the hall. Rest for a while, then call Mom. It was going to be a terrible conversation. But she wouldn’t tell her right away about that horrible word that kept echoing in her mind.

Mereor.

*   *   *

“DEAR GOD,” DIANE WHISPERED. “I can’t believe it. Dean?”

“I can’t believe it either,” Kendra said. “I’m sick about it. I can imagine how you’re feeling.”

“I don’t know how I’m feeling. I think I’m numb.” She was silent. “No, I’m angry. I’m furious. That son of a bitch.”

“Yes.”

“I want to cut his throat,” Diane said. “Dean was … special.”

Kendra was silent.

“And you’re feeling guilty. I can feel it,” Diane said. “Don’t be stupid. It wasn’t your fault.” She was silent for an instant. “You expect me to ask you to bow out because I’m afraid for you. I’m tempted to do it. But that won’t help Dean, and it won’t help you. Myatt is going to keep going after you because that’s the nature of the vicious bastard. Anyone who would go after a nice guy like Dean just to punish you will just keep on until someone stops him.” Her voice was steel hard. “You stop him, Kendra. And if you can find a way, let me help. I’d like that, and I think Dean would like it, too.”

“You can help by staying safe and far away from Myatt,” she said unsteadily. “Is everything okay up there?”

Diane didn’t answer for a moment. “We’re protected and there have been no signs of Myatt. It appears he’s been busy in other areas.” She paused. “I’m going to hang up now. I’m going to have a good cry, then I’ll call Dean’s father and break the news to him.”