The Fifth Victim Part 29

"Yes, of course. What a wonderful idea, since all my things will be here-"

He clutched the back of her neck and drew her to him. "If for any reason the sheriff questions you and Haden, you mustn't reveal the names of the members of your cult."

With fear in her eyes and tension tightening her body, Esther shook her head. "No, of course not. I'd never do that."

He smiled at her; she relaxed and returned his smile.

"Does Haden know you've brought your things here to store them for safekeeping?"

"He was still at the church when I packed everything up and put it in the car," she said. "I left him a note on the refrigerator telling him I was stopping by here. If he came home and found me gone, he'd worry."

"I would prefer for Haden not to know about my helping you. At least not for now. When you return home, destroy the note you left."

"Sure, I'll do that. Unless Haden's already seen it."

He tightened his hold on her neck, yanked her up against him, and put his mouth to hers. She trembled. He laughed.

With their lips just barely touching, he said, "I want to f.u.c.k your mouth."

She sighed deeply.

He released his tenacious hold on her neck. She dropped to her knees in front of him and hurriedly undid his zipper. When she started to reach inside his shorts, he grabbed her hand.

"I'll do the rest," he told her. "Just open your mouth wide."

She did as he requested. Some high priestess she was. His mother would never have allowed a man-any man-to tell her what to do. Mother had been a true high priestess. She gave the orders. She inflicted the pain.

He freed his p.e.n.i.s, cupped the back of Esther's head and slid his s.e.x into her mouth. When the tip reached the back of her throat, she gagged, but he held her in place, withdrew, and repeated the process.

Such an obedient little wh.o.r.e. If she hadn't left her husband that d.a.m.n note, she could become his fourth victim.

The sheriff's big truck was parked in their wide driveway. Esther cursed, wishing d.a.m.nation on the man. What was he doing here? Had his cousin, that Madoc woman, already called him and told him about their telepathic conversation? What if the sheriff asked her if she was a witch?

Oh, G.o.d, what if Haden was entertaining him in the kitchen? What if the sheriff had seen the note?

Esther eased her older model BMW Mini Cooper past the sheriff's truck and parked it beside the church's Sedona minivan that Haden drove. When she tried the back door, she found it still locked. Good. That meant Haden had come in through the front when he'd returned from his church office. She unlocked the door and rushed into the kitchen. She heard voices coming from the living room. Haden and the sheriff. After dumping her shoulder bag and keys on the counter, she looked at the refrigerator. Her note to Haderi was still there. She breathed a sigh of relief.

She lifted the magnet and s.n.a.t.c.hed away the note, then tore it into tiny pieces and threw them into the trash.

His smell was still on her, his taste still in her mouth. She couldn't walk into the living room and greet the sheriff until she'd removed the evidence of her recent s.e.xual encounter. First she rinsed her mouth out with water, then took a bottle of lemon juice from the refrigerator and squirted some into her mouth. After she washed her hands and face with liquid soap, she reached under the sink, took out the Lysol canister and sprayed a heavy mist of the deodorizer all around her. That's as much as she could do without going to the bathroom, and she couldn't go to the bathroom from the kitchen without being seen from the living room.

Esther squared her shoulders, forced a warm, welcoming smile, and went into the living room to greet their guest.

"Esther, my dear," Haden said the moment he saw her. "Come in and say h.e.l.lo to Sheriff Butler."

Esther and the sheriff exchanged pleasant greetings.

"You'll never believe what the sheriff and I have been discussing," Haden said, his nose crinkling as he sniffed. Esther faked a puzzled expression. "He's been telling me that he suspects there's a satanic cult here in Cherokee Pointe. Devil-worshiping witches. Isn't that unbelievable?"

"Yes," she replied. "Quite unbelievable."

"I thought your husband should be aware of our suspicions," Sheriff Butler said. "I'm contacting all the ministers in Cherokee County. I think it's something our G.o.d-fearing preachers should concern themselves with."

"Of course. Of course." Haden nodded.

"We appreciate your sharing this news with us," Esther said. "Do you have any idea who these people are?"

"I'd rather not say, ma'am. But you can be sure we'll do our best to find out. Folks around here won't put up with any more animal sacrifices."

Haden rubbed his hands together nervously. d.a.m.n him! Esther could slap the man. Now wasn't the time to weaken. Earlier today when he'd warned her to get rid of anything that linked them to the coven, he'd been quite masterful. She preferred the harsh, demanding Haden to the simpering, weak creature he often was.

"You-you don't believe there's a connection between the animal sacrifices and the sacrificial murders, do you?" Haden asked, his voice quivering ever so slightly.

The sheriff looked directly at Esther. "We think there's a possibility a member of the coven is our murderer."

"How awful." Esther shook her head in a mock show of sadness.

"I'll be checking in with you from time to time." Sheriff Butler held out his hand to Haden, and the two shared a quick handshake. "I have a few more stops to make, so I need to get going."

Haden walked the sheriff out to the sidewalk, then as soon as he got in his truck, Haden rushed back into the house. The minute the sheriff backed out of the driveway, Haden turned on her.

"See what your insanity has done?" he yelled. "He knows. I tell you, he knows."

"He doesn't know anything except what Genny Madoc told him, and believe me, anything she said isn't something that will hold up in court."

"Court? Do you think being arrested is my only concern? If the truth about your being a witch ever came to light, I'd lose my job. I'd never be allowed to preach ever again."

"I can't say that would be so bad. I hate being a minister's wife. I always have."

"Yes, I know." The look Haden gave her told her that he loathed her every bit as much as she despised him. "We have a great deal to concern us. A great deal. What if Genevieve Madoc tries to contact you again?"

"I hope she does. She's very powerful and she could-"

Haden slapped Esther. She reeled backward, rubbed her cheek, and glared at him.

"I won't allow it," he told her. "Do you hear me? You must know how dangerous that woman is to us."

She laughed at her husband. "I did as you asked. I've made sure all the items that could connect us to the coven are well hidden. I intend to do my part to protect us. But understand this-I'm not afraid of you, Haden. You can't control me." She walked right up to him and smiled. "And no matter what you think, you can't control Genny Madoc. But maybe I can. I can put a curse on her. I can-"

"You're a fool if you think you can cast spells or put curses on people. You don't have any magical powers." He looked at her, running his gaze from her head to her feet. "The only talent you have is using your body to pleasure men. You can't handle Genny Madoc, but I can. I know a way."

Wallace MacKinnon had called late in the afternoon to ask if he should come to work the following day. Dallas had told him he should, unless he heard otherwise from Genny. There was no reason to a.s.sume Genny wouldn't be able to continue her life in a fairly normal way, despite her knowing she was the final target for a madman. Dallas felt reluctant to leave her alone, even if Jacob could provide adequate protection. But as it was, Jacob's deputies were limited in number, and each was needed, so it would cause a hardship to the Sheriff's Department to post one officer to guard Genny. And Dallas wasn't sure if he would trust her safety to anyone else.

While Genny rested, Dallas inspected the greenhouses for her as she had requested when she'd awakened briefly. He'd left Drudwyn at her bedside and had double-checked all the doors and made sure they were locked before he'd gone outside.

The sun had already set, and twilight shadows crept across the hills. Night was fast approaching. Standing near the back porch, Dallas gazed skyward. Overhead storm clouds swirled. Off in the distance, thunder rumbled. They'd probably get rain before morning. And if the temperatures dropped into the low thirties tonight, they might get some fleet.

Dallas entered the screened porch, wiped his feet on the mat, and removed his coat. He should put on water for tea. When Genny woke, she'd want something warm to drink. And he'd fix sandwiches for supper. She probably wouldn't want anything to eat, but he'd encourage her to put a little something in her stomach.

After hanging his coat on the rack on the porch, he went into the kitchen and began preparations for their evening meal. Before the teakettle whistled, he heard Drudwyn yowling and knew Genny was awake and playing with the wolf-dog. Quickly, he prepared a cup of tea. As he carried the mug down the hall, he thought about how unlike him it was to be smothering a woman with tender, loving care. In his relationships, the TLC was usually directed at him. Women tended to chase him, and when they thought they had even the slightest chance of catching him, they'd smother him with attention. This was the first time in his life that he'd been the giver and not the taker.

He grunted as he paused outside Genny's bedroom. Funny thing was, he'd never cared enough about a woman before to concern himself with her needs beyond s.e.xual satisfaction. Genny was different.

G.o.d, what an understatement!

When he entered the bedroom, he found her sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace. She had her arm draped around Drudwyn's neck and was stroking him lovingly.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

She looked up at him and smiled. "I'm feeling fine." She eyed the mug he held. "Is that for me?"

"Hot tea." He brought the mug to her.

"Thank you." She accepted his offering, then lifted the mug to her lips and took several tiny sips.

He reached down and skimmed his hand over her hair, from earlobe to shoulder. "Drink your tea while I go back in the kitchen and put together a couple of sandwiches for us."

"I'm really not very hungry."

"Then you'll eat what you can," he told her. "But you're going to eat."

"Yes, yu ne ga, I will obey," Genny said teasingly.

"What did you call me?" he asked.

Genny laughed. "I called you a white man."

"Well, I am a white man, so I guess that wasn't an insult." He grinned. "What is it that Jacob calls you? I gi go?"

"I gi do," Genny corrected. "It means sister in the Cherokee language."

Suddenly Dallas felt a twinge of jealousy that she shared so much with her cousin Jacob, that he even had a pet name for her. "Maybe I should learn the Cherokee language," Dallas told her as he started to leave.

"Do you want to know a name I would like for you to call me?" she asked.

He paused when he reached the doorway, then glanced over his shoulder. "What would you like for me to call you?"

"A qua da li i."

Dallas repeated the words. "What does it mean?"

"I'll tell you...someday."

Genny's smile brightened the whole room. h.e.l.l, it brightened his whole world.

"I could ask Jacob."

"You could. But you won't."

"Drink your tea," he told her. "I'll be back in a little while with your supper."

"I can come to the kitchen."

"All right, if you feel up to it."

"I'll come with you now. I need to put out feed for the birds and other animals. They'll be expecting it."

"Tell me where you keep the feed sacks and-"

"They won't take food if anyone else has touched it."

Dallas grimaced. "I should have known."

When Genny rose to her feet and followed Dallas, Drudwyn galloped after her. Once in the kitchen, Dallas set about preparing their sandwiches while Genny went out onto the back porch. She removed a huge feed sack from a wooden storage box near the stack of firewood; then she filled four bowls and stacked them one on top of the other and set them on the floor. After removing her coat from the wall rack and putting it on, she picked up the bowls.

When she swung open the screen door with her hip, Drudwyn dashed outside. Balancing the bowls with both hands, Genny walked out into the backyard. The screen door flopped shut with a loud bang. Dallas dropped the b.u.t.ter knife he was using to spread mustard on the bread slices and ran after her.

"Genny, wait," he called. "I don't want you-"

The shot rang out in the hushed stillness of twilight. Dallas yelled her name. Suddenly he felt as if heavy weights were attached to his ankles. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. He heard the shot. He heard his own voice echoing inside his head. He saw Genny balk, then grab her shoulder and lean to one side. He saw Drudwyn take off like a rocket, chasing something-or someone.

Genny crumpled into a heap on the ground. When Dallas reached her, she lay still and unmoving. He knelt beside her, saw the blood staining the back of her coat, and was forced to accept the fact that she'd been shot. Someone had shot her. In her own backyard. With a big, brave FBI agent guarding her.

He held her in his arms for several seconds before his training kicked in. He checked her vital signs. Weak. But she was still alive. He had two choices: get Genny to the hospital immediately or follow Drudwyn's lead and chase after the person who had shot her.

Dallas scooped Genny up off the ground. As far as he was concerned there was really only one choice. The only thing that mattered right now was Genny.

Chapter 24.

Jazzy placed her hand on Dallas Sloan's back. He tensed immediately but didn't turn to face her. Ever since she'd arrived at Cherokee County General last night, she hadn't heard Dallas utter a single word. The small waiting room was filled to capacity with people who loved Genny. Jacob. Sally and Ludie. Royce. Wallace. Brian. And dozens of people had come and gone during the long night, offering prayers and a.s.sistance. Numerous Cherokee County folks had telephoned, as had ministers from the Baptist church and the Methodist church, even though Genny wasn't a member of either denomination. The nurse's aides had brought out coffee several times and offered to bring food up from the snack bar. Anyone who knew Genny thought she was special. The entire county cared what happened to her.

And no one, absolutely no one, could understand why anybody would want to harm such a kind, gentle, and loving soul.

When Jacob called her last night, Jazzy had rushed to the ER, but too late to see Genny before they carried her to surgery. She'd found Jacob sitting quietly, his head bowed and his eyes closed, in the surgery waiting area on the second floor. Dallas had been pacing outside in the hall. When she'd spoken to him, he hadn't even noticed her.

Jacob had explained what had happened, at least what little he'd been able to get out of Dallas. "I've got a team up there at the house now searching for evidence all around," he'd said. "This wasn't what we were expecting. There's no way we could have known. Dallas is blaming himself and nothing I've said to him has convinced him otherwise."

After endless hours of waiting and praying, they'd heard good news. Genny had come through surgery with flying colors, and the doctor a.s.sured them she would recover fully. The bullet had entered her back and exited her shoulder, but hadn't struck anything vital. Jazzy had expected Dallas to react the way she and Jacob had-with happy relief. Instead, he'd fled. She didn't know where he'd gone, but she suspected he had sought a place of solitude where he could be alone. The bathroom? The chapel? He'd probably puked. Or cried. Or offered a prayer of thanks. Maybe all three.

Now, at four-fifty in the morning, Jazzy stood behind Dallas at the end of the hallway where he stared out the window into the darkness. She patted his back. "They're going to let us go in to see her in a few minutes."

He nodded, but still didn't turn around.