Sam showered quickly, then grabbed fresh jeans, a T-shirt, and his phone to call Paige. Again, he thought of her as he'd last seen her. He rubbed a hand down his face, then called her.

"h.e.l.lo?"

She sounded as wide awake as he was. "Paige, it's Sam." He could all but feel her stiffen across the airwaves. She was closed up tight. Again, he felt at a loss about how to reach her, but he had to put that aside for now. That wasn't why he'd called her. "We've been called in to investigate a suspicious death in Kirk County Park. I'll tell you what I know when I see you. I can be at your place in twenty minutes."

There was a pause, then she said, "I'll be waiting."

He made his way to Jonah's room. Sam called his son's name softly and placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder, but Jonah didn't stir. In Sam's experience, once Jonah was asleep, he slept deeply. Sam watched Jonah, just watched his son sleeping. The simple act of watching Jonah sleep was particularly comforting tonight when Sam was on his way to a crime scene.

He didn't try to wake Jonah again. Sam wrapped his son in the blue comforter with the race car pattern that Jonah had kicked to the end of the bed, then scooped the boy into his arms. Jonah was still asleep, buckled in the backseat, when Sam pulled into Ginny's driveway. A sedan was parked there. The sedan didn't belong to Ginny, who had a compact she parked in the single-car garage. Sam figured the sedan was Herb's.

An instant later, Sam's suspicion was confirmed. With Jonah in his arms, Sam left the truck and headed for the house. As he did, a man came out of the back door, taking careful steps that minimized the sound of his shoes on the walkway. In the back porch light, Sam recognized Herb.

Herb drew back. "Sam."

"Herb."

"I'd planned to be gone before you got here." Herb rubbed his hand across his mouth. "This is awkward."

"Not for me."

Herb moved his stooped shoulders in a show of discomfort. "Well, I'd better skedaddle."

As Herb scooted by Sam, he reached out and gave Jonah a soft pat on the shoulder. Sam gritted his teeth at the gesture. Herb's affection for Jonah grated.

As promised, Ginny was standing at the back door in a cinched blue robe. She held the door open while Sam entered the house. "I'll take him up," Sam said.

With Ginny trailing him, Sam set Jonah in his bed. Jonah mumbled something but didn't move. Sam kissed the top of Jonah's tousled, dark head, then, with a nod to Ginny, left the house.

Paige was waiting by the door when Sam pulled up in front of her apartment building. After being in his arms yesterday, she'd gone through all manner of emotions. The most upsetting of all was the sense of rightness that she felt being there.

But that was yesterday. In the cold light of a new day, Thames was still part of her life. After Sam's phone call, the words she'd said to him about having nothing to give him were never as true.

Since he'd told her a woman had died a "suspicious" death in Kirk County Park, Paige's nerves had spiked. Her mind was whirling like a hamster on a wheel, the thought racing through her brain that the person responsible for this woman's death might be Thames.

Since Thames's release, Paige had expanded her search of the databases to include new cases. She continued to come up empty. Was that because Thames had chosen to start a new trail of bread crumbs in Kirk County?

If Thames had chosen Kirk, Paige did not believe it was a coincidence. That of all places, he'd chosen this one. No, just as he'd revealed to her at his murder trial that he knew her New York address, murdering this woman would be his way of letting Paige know that he was here. A woman would have died because of Paige, just so Thames could leave Paige his calling card. A coldness seeped through Paige right down to her bones.

Paige climbed into Sam's truck. The overhead light flashed on, then off, and she caught Sam's grim expression. Fearing her own expression was too readable just now, for so many reasons, she looked away from him. "What do we know so far?"

Across the dark interior, she could feel his gaze burning into her, but all he said was, "The woman is Janet Glaxton Lambert, a prominent figure in Kirk. Her husband, Hugh Lambert, owns several companies across the United States. She was the sister of Georgia senator Richard Glaxton and was found on a trail."

It was clear Sam did not yet have answers for the other questions that had Paige's nerves vibrating like tuning forks, and she said nothing more.

Due to the lateness of the hour, traffic was largely nonexistent. They reached Kirk County Park quickly. The park hadn't fully recovered from the sunny spring weekend, when families flocked there, or the fund raiser the previous weekend. Gra.s.s was trampled, and trashcans were overfilled and in some cases had spilled over. Paper cups, napkins, and other a.s.sorted debris littered the ground.

Lights had been set up, and the park was as bright as day. Sam parked the truck, and Paige was out of the vehicle before it had fully stopped. She scanned the area. The crime scene unit van was parked in the lot. A squad of male and female agents wearing vests emblazoned with FBI pulled up in another van. Sam acknowledged the agents. Paige tuned him out as he had a word with them.

Harry, Dom, Mike, and Riley were also on the scene. Sam went to speak with them next. Paige did not accompany him but continued to take in her surroundings. Yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the slight breeze. Strung from tree to tree, it cordoned off the body that had been found at the head of one of the jogging trails. Located close to the entrance of the park, the trail was impossible to miss. It was the one Paige had been on herself.

Sam came up beside her. "Whoever left the body wasn't looking to hide it."

Paige had been thinking the same thing. Tight-lipped, she walked by Sam's side. She could feel her posture stiffen as they got closer to the body.

Cops in uniform and in plainclothes stood against trees, some sipping from paper cups, some gathered in pairs or in groups. Others blocked the path to the crime scene. Even dressed casually, as she and Sam were, Paige saw a couple of the officers straighten their posture as she and Sam approached. Paige's ID was in a back pocket of her jeans. She reached for it, but her hands felt as useless as catchers' mitts. Sam held up his own ID and cleared the way for Paige as well.

Sam clipped his ID to his belt, then said, "That's Harmon by the cop car with the roof light flashing."

Paige followed his gaze to a tall man, beanpole thin, his face as lined and cracked as old leather.

"Pete," Sam said when he reached him.

"Sam." Harmon swatted at a mosquito at his temple.

Sam turned to include Paige. "This is Special Agent Carson. Paige, Kirk County Chief of Police Harmon."

Harmon nodded to Paige. She could feel waves of hostility coming off him but didn't spare a thought about the reasons for his chilly reception. She returned his nod absently and honed her gaze on the crime scene unit grouped around what was presumably the body. They'd arrived quickly, and judging by the progress they'd made, they'd been here awhile and would be here longer still. In addition to the crime scene, Paige knew the team would widen their scope to include a good portion of the park.

While Sam spoke with Harmon, Paige separated herself from the men, intent on reaching the body. Her hands were shaking as she dug out her ID. She held it up and, without waiting to see if anyone even glanced at it, made a path for herself through the group until she was standing directly over the dead woman.

The first thing that struck Paige was that Janet Glaxton Lambert was fully clothed-right down to her designer sling-back sandals.

Paige cataloged other characteristics, like the deceased woman's toned figure; her age-roughly early fifties; that she was lying on her side-by chance or design would be determined; and that Janet Glaxton Lambert was a redhead.

Paige hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until it whooshed out. Not Thames. Not Thames.

Then she saw it-a postcard by the body.

Sam claimed a spot over the body beside Paige. His meeting with Harmon had been short. He didn't have time to turn this into a p.i.s.sing contest over jurisdiction. A woman had lost her life.

The photographers were packing up their gear. The crime scene agents had moved in. Sam knew these agents and left his ID on his belt. "Bob," Sam said to one, "what can you tell us?"

Bob squinted at Sam over the blue lenses of rimless gla.s.ses. "Hey, Sam. Pending autopsy, so far it looks like cause of death was a cervical fracture."

A broken neck, Sam thought.

"We won't know how many of the vertebrae were broken until we get her on the table," Bob added. "I'd loosely peg time of death between five and ten hours ago."

"Could a fall or another accident have caused the fracture?"

Bob shook his head. "No way. The bruising on her neck indicates she was grabbed, and grabbed hard. Someone did this to her."

"Walk us through what else we know so far," Sam said.

Bob crouched over the body and began to point with his gloved hand. Nicotine stains on his fingers showed through the transparent gloves. "She was found like this, on her side. Fully dressed as you can see, right down to her shoes. And she's wearing those." He made a gesture with his hand. "What do you call 'em? Those shoes women wear that don't have any straps or anything but that stay on their feet anyway?"

"I call them strapless sandals." Jill, the woman on their team, volunteered the information without looking up from bagging something so small Sam couldn't see it and that had been retrieved with tweezers.

Bob raised an arm in a wave. "Thank you, Jill, we'll go with that. h.e.l.l, the woman is still wearing makeup-all that jazz. Even her hair is undisturbed. Not a strand out of place."

Sam said, "The police chief told me the woman was identified from the personal effects. They were left with the body."

Bob held up a clear plastic bag. "Our unknown subject left her purse with her wallet and all her IDs inside, including credit cards. There's about a grand in cash in her wallet and"-Bob touched the tip of his index finger to the woman's hand-"a rock on her ring finger that goes almost all the way to her first knuckle."

"Not a mugging, then."

"We'll need a closer look, of course, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and tell you what I think: The woman died of a broken neck. Looks like the unsub snapped it." Bob gestured, twisting both hands lightning fast. "My impression? She was killed right where she stood. Our guy came up behind her, did the deed, then just dropped her where he found her."

"Thanks, Bob."

Bob waved.

Sam turned away, but Paige held her ground.

"What about the postcard?" Paige asked.

Sam faced Paige. Her features and voice were strained.

Paige asked her next question on the heels of the first. "Where did you find it exactly?"

Sam's gaze sharpened on her.

Jill held up the now bagged postcard. Sam saw there was a photo of the South Carolina state map on one side, and on the other side there was the typical blank s.p.a.ce for a note and the address. Nothing had been written.

"I didn't move it until the photos were taken. It was near the body." Jill pointed to a spot by the woman's head. "Don't know where it came from at this point. Could have just blown here."

Sam was thinking the same. There was a lot of garbage blowing around after the weekend that would further contaminate the area. "Paige? Something?"

"No." She shook her head once quickly, then wrapped her arms around herself and stepped away from the body.

"You sure?" Sam prodded.

Paige shook her head again, and Sam stepped away as well. But he stopped. His gaze returned to the spot where Janet Glaxton Lambert had been alive one moment, if Bob's theory was correct, and dead the next. "The park is heavily populated on weekends. Any trash found at the scene could have come from anyone who was here." Sam was thinking out loud. "A crime of opportunity? The ground is hard. We won't get any shoe prints. The earth around the body shows no sign of having been disturbed at all."

Sam stared without blinking, committing what he was seeing to memory. "We'll soon know if any hair or fibers were found at the scene. Though why kill a woman for a zero payoff? No cash. No rape. There has to be a motive. Gratification from a quick kill?" Sam shook his head. "Janet Glaxton Lambert's brother is a sitting senator. We can't rule out that her murder could be politically motivated. Harmon said the body was found by a guy on a bike on his way home from his girlfriend's. The guy's shaken and still with paramedics. Let's see what he can tell us."

CHAPTER TWELVE.

Paige hadn't spoken another word since she'd asked about the postcard. Sam reminded himself that she was not an experienced agent, but he didn't think the sight of the body had thrown her. As far as dead bodies went, Paige had seen others in far worse condition during the Thames investigation. He didn't think whatever was on her mind had anything to do with the way they'd left things between them. No, this was something else. Now, though, wasn't the time to ask her about it. Now, they had a witness to interview.

An ambulance was parked on the gra.s.s. A man with a shaved head and a hoop earring sat on the tailgate with an oxygen mask over his face and his head between his knees. A bike was propped against a picnic table nearby. The front tire was flat. The chrome rim bent and twisted. A puddle a short distance away, made up of what looked to have been the man's dinner, was soaking into the gra.s.s. The man's head darted up at Sam and Paige's approach.

"Easy, Mr. Holt," the medic said. "You don't want to come up too fast. Remember what happened the last time."

Sam showed his ID. "Mr. Holt, we're Agents McKade and Carson. We'd like to ask you some questions."

Holt had bulging green eyes that stood out against his now too-pale face. He lowered the oxygen mask, gripping it in a white-knuckled fist. "I already told the cops." Holt swallowed once, then again. "About what I saw."

Sam returned his ID to his belt. "We'd appreciate you telling us as well."

Holt went another shade of white but nodded. He raised one shoulder. The T-shirt he wore slipped a little, revealing the tip of what looked to be a tattoo of a shark. "Not much to tell. I was coming from my girlfriend's, decided to cut through the park to save some time and get home to catch a bit of extra sleep before work in the morning. I got on this trail, and there she was. She was layin' on her side. I thought she was asleep. I said, 'Hey, lady.' When she didn't answer, I got off my bike and touched her." Tears filled his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. "Oh, G.o.d. She was dead."

"What time was this?" Sam asked.

The same shoulder rose, then fell. "After eleven. The nightly news was just starting when I left Rebecca's apartment."

"Rebecca?"

"Tannen. My girlfriend." The medic handed Holt a towel, and Holt used it to wipe his eyes. "She lives over at the Crossdale Apartments."

"You said you thought the woman was asleep on the ground?"

"Yeah. Like I said, she was just layin' there. On her side."

"Anyone else around at that time?"

"No. Just me and the woman."

"What happened to the bike?" Sam pointed to the blown tire.

Holt's mouth shook. "I didn't see the woman at first, and when I did, it was too late to stop. I ran into a tree."

"How'd you hurt your leg?" This time, Sam pointed to the thick gash on Holt's shin, oozing blood, that the medic was cleaning.

"After I touched the woman and realized she wasn't breathing, I backed way off. I tripped over my bike, sliced my leg open on a sharp piece of the broken metal."

"Where'd you touch her?"

"Her hand, man. I touched her cold hand."

"Anywhere else?"

The man wagged his head from side to side like a pendulum. "Isn't that enough?"

Sam noted Holt's contact information and Rebecca Tannen's, too. "We'll be in touch if we have any further questions."

Paige neared Holt. Her gaze became avid. "Were you carrying a postcard with you, Mr. Holt?"

"What? A postcard? No."