A Killer Smile.

LAURA KENNER.

To my family--Mum, the real Kenner;

Dad, the real Ernest; the Bama Doctor and our clones, Katie and Scott.

Also to Deb Stover, Pam McCutcheon and Karen Fox, who have proven that friendship, like E-mail, knows no state boundaries.

Prologue "And what did the defendant say to you, Miss Coster?"

The sound of clicking knitting needles distracted Ellen, causing her to

hesitate. The noise wasn't loud, but it irritated her nonetheless.She cleared her throat."Hank said if he couldn't ... have me, no one could. Shortly after that, I began to smell the smoke.""That will be all. You may step down."A jolt rocketed up Ellen's frayed nerves."But what about the call I just got?"A muscle teased in the prosecutor's jaw."That will be a//, Miss Coster."Ellen turned to the judge."But Hank, the defendant, threatened me again. During the last break, I was paged to the public phone and,"

The defense attorney rose from his seat.

"Your Honor' The judge cut him off with a wave.

"No need to object. Will both counsel please approach the bench?"

Ellen knotted her hands into fists and hid them in the folds of her

skirt.

"But he" -- "Don't say anything more, Miss Coster." The judge reached

up and covered the microphone, then turned to the A Killer Smile A Killer Smile prosecut'rag attorney.

"Frank, you know anything about this?"

The lawyer shrugged.

"I told her we couldn't bring this up now. Maybe during the sentencing

hearing, but not now." ' The judge turned back to Ellen."Are you saying the defendant threatened you today?""Yes, Your Honor." Ellen tried not to look toward the defense table where Hank sat. She couldn't stand any glimpse at what her friends had

innocently called his "killer smile." In the months since their initial meeting, the description had taken on an ominous meaning.

The black robe rustled as the judge shifted in his chair. "I think we'd better take this to my chambers. Genfi men? Miss Coster?"

Ellen and the two attorneys followed the judge into his anteroom.

Before he closed the door, he motioned for the bailiff to join theminside. Ellen sank into the soft leather chair, feeling more like aguilty student facing the principal than a key witness in a criminaltrial.

The judge perched on the corner of his desk.

"Norm, did the defendant leave the courtroom area at any time during therecess?"

The bailiff nodded.

"Yes, sir. The defendant asked to use the restroom during the morningbreak. He was corted to the facility door by two guards who remainedoutside, then brought back to the 'courtroom. There's no way he couldhave gotten to a phone. There aren't any in that area."

The defense attorney shook his head.

"I don't see how" -- Ellen turned to the judge, pleating herhandkerchief between nervous fingers.

"Sir, I'm positive it was his voice."

The robed man crossed his arms.

"Miss Coster, is there any way you could be mistaken? Could it have been someone else who only identified himself as the defendant, HankBartholomew?"

Ellen tightened her grip on the handkerchief until her knuckleswhitened.

"I'm positive it was Hank, not someone else. I recognized his voice...and his threats."

The defense attorney shook his head.

"This is preposterous, Your Honor. There's no way my client could havemade that call. L/kc the bailiff said, there's no phone in or near themen's restroom on this floor."

Ellen remained calm as a revelation rocked her, making her knees growwatery and her heart wedge in her throat. "I know exactly how he couldhave done it!" She glanced at the prosecuting attorney, who shrugged,then made a gesture for her to continue.

She took a deep breath.

"Hank'sfather always carries a cellular telephone in his briefcase. He could have entered the bathroom shortly before Hank and hidden the phonefor his son to use."

"That sounds plausible .... " The judge turned to the bailiff. "0o back into the courtroom and see if the defendant's father brought a briefcasewith him,"

"Yes, sir." The man slpped out and returned a few minutes later,shaking his head.

"Mr. Bartholomew doesn't have a briefcase with him today, although oneof the guards said he. brought one on the other days of testimony."

The prosecuting attorney turned to the judge.

"What now? If we can't prove" -- Ellen held up a shaky hand.

"Please." Inspiration arrived in the form of cold shivers sliding downher back, and she fumbled with the purse in her lap. Removing herwallet, she pawed through its contents until she pulled out A KillerSmile A Killer Smile a wrinkled piece of cardboard and held it out tothe judge. "Can't we use this?"

The judge took the business card and studied it. A small smile flitted across his face.

"Very good, Miss Coster. Let's go out there and test this theory. If it. works I want to see the looks on their faces." He gestured to theattorneys, who both released puzzled sighs but followed him back intothe courtroom.

Once everyone took their place, the judge reached for the telephone onhis bench and punched in the numbers printed on. the worn business card. Ellen watched the courtroom observers strain to hear his end of the conversation.

Instead they heard a muffled electronic beeping sound. The 'senior Bartholomew paled.

Mrs. Bartholomew jumped, pushing away the bag that held her knitting.The noise continued even when the bag hit the floor with a heavy,resounding thud.

"You bitch!"

Hank Bartholomew rose, shaking off the reit raining hand his attorneyplaced on him.

"I failed the first time, but ! won't mess up again.

I'll kill you yet, you bitch. " An evil smile creased his all-American features, the same face she'd once thought of as handsome, " You won'tknow how I'll do it! "

He straight-armed the defense lawyer, who was trying desperately topreserve the last shreds of a carefully planned defense.

"You won't know when!"

Hank lunged toward the witness stand only to be intercepted by an alertbailiff.

The judge pounded on the bench with his gavel, mimicking the sound ofEllen's heart.

"Bailiff, e-move the. defendant from the court."

Several guards struggled with Hank, slapped handcuffs on him and pulledhim toward the door. His father bellowed in outrage, and his motherbegan to cry hysterically.

"You won't even know who," Hank yelled from the rear of the court.

"When I get through, you won't even recognize me, Ellen. Then I'll getyou when, where and how you least expect. Because I can become anybody!"

His malevolent shout echoed down the corridor as they pulled him away.

"Anybody!"

Chapter One.

Most of the birds were gone for the season, leaving only fearlessmagpies to rule the skies. Ellen glanced up at the squawking blackflock, flying below the ominous dark clouds that built overhead. At herfeet an uneven breeze created small whirlwinds of amber leaves that rose, then drifted back to the forest floor.

She hoisted the camera to her eye and focused the zoom lens on asquirrel.

Its black ears twitched as Ellen shifted aga. st a tree trunk to steadyherself. After a moment the animal returned its attention to/he dinnerclasped between its paws. Tufts of fur flicked once more when thecamera's shut made its fkst click She took several more close-up shotsof the squirrel until her subject scampered into the dense undergrowth.

"Going to snow ..." Ellen's voice echoed through the silent forest.

She seldom spoke aloud while photographing the beauties of nature. Infact, she rarely talked at all. Her long-suffering companion, Hermitt,posse. a Labrador retriever's uncanny way of interpreting wordlessgestures and facial expressions, freeing her from the chore of verbalcommunication. Actually, she wasn't sure whether to credit lgs abilitiesto his breed or to the fact he had lost so much of his hearing over the years.

A Killer Smile No matter which, sometimes she'd go an entire weekwithout speaking a word. On those occasions when she longed for thesound of a human voice, she played a cas-sere in her batty-powered taperecorder or read aloud to herself while sitting in her favorite rockingchair. In the Rocky Mountains, radio reception was sporadic at best andnonexistent the rest of the time.

Dark, heavy clouds released their threat in a thin, lacy curtain of snow.

Ellen blinked away a stray flake that landed in her eye.

Snowflakes continued to cling to her eyelashes with annoying persistenceas she trudged up the path leading back to her cab' to She shuffled downthe leaf-strewn trail, acutely aware of how rapidly it was becoming asnow-covered trail. The first heavy snowfall of the season invariablycaught her off guard.

I'll have to carry in some more firewood . She looked down, riveted bythe sight of a pale red splotch, marring the snow by her boot.

Blood. Ellen identified the stain With a forced detachment. She knew all too well that sometimes the survival of the fittest wasn't a prettysight,.

She glanced at/he tracks being masked by a filmy layer of snow.

A big animal. Playing connect-the-dots from one spot to the next, shefelt her stomach chum as the blotches grew brighter and fresher. Andheaded toward her cabin.

Hermitt! Panic overwhelmed her for a moment, and she began to run downthe trail. Did Hermitt get out? She looked up in dismay at the opendoor. Or did something try to get in? No animal could have turned theknob. The answer was obvious, A human. Hank!

Ellen spun around, half expecting the man to jump out from behind thelow scrub oak, then she realized the biggest danger facing her was mostlikely inside her cabin.

A Killer Smile The quiet snow continued to drift down, forming a thick,but un protective barrier between her and the cabin. A chill ofapprehension stiffened the muscles in her face.

I'll freeze to death ill stay here. She looked around for a weapon, foranything she could use to defend herself. She remembered the largeknife, resting safely in the kitchen Inside the cabin.

Could she make it to the drawer before-- Before my imagination attacksme?

C'mon, Ellen, she chided herself. Get a grip/ Hank isn't here--hecouldn't find me. She took a deep breath and expelled it in a frostycloud.

"Hermitt? Where are you, boy?" She stepped onto the wooden porch,nois'dy stamping the snow from her boots. The one thing a nearly deafdog would react to was vibrations in the floor. Nudging the door open,she called again, "Hermitt?"

A wet trail of leaves and dirt crossed the room and disappeared beyondthe bed. Ellen glanced around, letting her eyes adjust to the shadows.There were only a few places in her one-room cabin where someone couldhide: the shadows near the corner pantry, the tiny curtalned-offbathroom. Or by the fire.

Just beyond the iron bed frame, a dark, anonymous mass huddled on thestone hearth. When the lump moved, Ellen released the breath she'd held.Her dog, Hermitt, peered into the shadows closest to the bed and saw asplotch of red.

Not blood.