She finished brushing her hair and stood up to preen in front of the mirror. Men liked women who wore their hair long and free, and hers was exceptional. The lustrous curls shimmered in the sunlight like strands of gold.

The bedroom door suddenly opened, and her lover strolled inside. She tossed the brush on the table and turned to him. "You took a chance coming here. Did anyone see you? " "Of course not. I'm always careful. I came up the back way." Rebecca dressed in white was such a mockery he wanted to laugh. She actually looked pure and untouched.

"Donald, is everything all right? You look perplexed, " she said.

"Sorry, " he replied. "I was preoccupied. The sight of you in white stunned me." She smiled. "I thought it was a nice touch."

"It's fine, just fine, " he said before finally getting down to the business at hand. "I'm sorry you couldn't be in the courtroom this morning to watch the pathetic sheriff from Maple Hills make a complete fool of himself, " he said with a laugh. "He admitted under oath that he surprised Bell when he snuck up on him and drew his gun. He also admitted he wasn't wearing his badge and he didn't identify himself.

By the time Bell's attorney finished reminding the jury that his client was deathly ill at the time and blinded with a raging fever, he had all twelve men in the palm of his hands. I swear they were glaring at the sheriff when he shuffled away from the stand. I doubt he'll get reelected." The news thrilled her. "Then the attempted murder charge has been thrown out? " "Not yet, but it will be this afternoon, " he assured her. "The judge is dragging the trial out for as long as he can."

"If Bell is going to be released, there's no reason for me to carry on with the charade." He shook his head. "You're still going to have to go through with it, " he told her. "The judge is itching to hang Bell.

He knows he's got his man, and if he can't get him on the charge of attempted murder, he'll keep him locked up until you convince him Bell wasn't in the bank."

"All right, then." She sat down at her dressing table and began to brush her hair again. "What are you going to do about Bell? Now that people are suspicious of him, he's become a liability."

"I'm going to kill him of course, " Donald said.

"Have you told the others? " "Burton, Harris, and Andrews know. "

"What about Robertson? " "The boys are going to take care of Robertson for me. It was their idea, not mine. Burton says Robertson is getting out of control.

Andrews calls him knife happy." She put her brush down and turned to him. "Have you heard from Burton yet? " "Don't start fretting. "

"But he was supposed to wire you after they killed Grace and Jessica.

Have you gotten word from him yet? " "I'm sure they got the job done.

They always do, " he added with a grin.

"Burton couldn't send a wire."

"Why not? " "The telegraph office here has been shut down for the last two days.

The equipment broke down, " he explained. "Don't worry. I checked it out to make sure it was true."

"No one in town is getting telegrams?

" "Oh, they're getting them, but they're being rerouted through the next town and that's twenty miles away."

"His wire will probably come tomorrow, then."

"And we'll be long gone, " he told her.

"You never told me how Burton and the others feel about disbanding. "

"They're ready to stop for a while. By the time they get the urge again or run out of money, we'll be setting up house in Paris."

"If you take care of Bell tonight, we could leave tomorrow." He headed back to the door. "No, we're leaving tonight. Pack your things and bring them with you when you meet me outside of town. You know where.

" "Yes, " she called out. "I wish you could go with me to see the judge.

It would amuse you to watch."

"You know I can't be seen with you in this town. Every one knows me here, and they might start wondering how I got hooked up with you.

I'll be in the courtroom."

"Yes, I know.

Where should I go now, straight to the courthouse? " "Go to the sheriff's office. He'll take you to the courthouse." After giving the order, he pulled the door closed. He was surprised by the twinge of regret he felt. He was going to kill her, and he was surprised that he actually felt sorry for her. Then he started thinking about how he would kill her tonight, and within minutes he was hard and throbbing.

All feelings of remorse vanished. He would keep her alive for as long as he could to prolong his own enjoyment, and he must remember to gag her so no one would hear her screams for mercy.

It was a pity really. He had considered taking her with him and then decided against it. Rebecca was such a striking woman she drew attention wherever she went. The flawless beauty made her a risk because everyone, even strangers, remembered her.

He would miss her though, for he doubted he could ever find another woman with such a twisted sexual appetite.

He jerked the door open again, walked inside, and began to unbutton his pants.

"No, Donald, " she cried out as she backed away from him. Her face was already flushed with excitement and fear. "There isn't time." His laugh was harsh. "There's always time." Rebecca didn't arrive at the jail until one-thirty that afternoon. It had taken almost two full hours to pull herself together after she and Donald had finished with one another. Fortunately, he'd let her take her dress off before it was ruined. She was still hurting, but she wasn't upset about it because pain would make her look all the more vulnerable and frightened.

The sheriff wasn't there. His deputy, a young man with a horridly pockmarked complexion, fastened his eyes on her breasts the second she walked inside. Amused, she stepped forward to shake his hand. His palms were sweaty, and she had to resist the urge to wipe her hand on her dress. She introduced herself and explained why she was there.

"The sheriff was hoping you'd get here soon, " he said. "He's over at the courthouse waiting to either drag the prisoner back here or let him go. I think we ought to head over there, because Judge Rafferty won't end the trial until you eyewitness Bell for him."

"And if he isn't one of the men I saw in the bank? " She tried to dazzle him with a smile, but it was wasted on him because he wouldn't take his gaze off her chest. She really had to remember to tell Donald about the deputy.

He'd get a good laugh out of the story.

"We're all hoping Bell is one of the Blackwater gang, " he told her.

"Would it be all right if I held your arm while I walked you to the courthouse? " "I won't mind at all. It's very gentlemanly of you. "

The courthouse was only two blocks away. He took her to the back entrance and showed her to the judge's chambers adjacent to the courtroom. She sat down near the desk to wait, while the deputy wrote a note for the clerk to hand to the judge.

"I'll bet Rafferty interrupts Bell's closing speech when he reads this, " he said, waving the note he'd just folded. "Is it okay if I leave you alone for a few minutes? I'd like to watch old sour face's expression and hear what he has to say to the fancy attorney."

"I'll be fine, " she whispered.

She fought the urge to open the door just a crack and look into the courtroom, but she didn't dare take the chance because Donald was in the audience, and if he saw her peeking out, he'd be furious.

She closed her eyes, cleared her mind, and prepared for her role. ghe moment had arrived.

As soon as the deputy returned and opened the door for her, Rebecca stepped into the courtroom and waited until she was summoned. She surveyed her audience, noting with pleasure that the room was packed.

A center aisle leading to a pair of front doors divided the courtroom in half. Two deputies with rifles stood guard on either side. She noticed a side door directly across from the door to the judge's chambers. It too was guarded.

She was called forward to the witness-box. Every eye in the room was on her. Her head held high, her expression fearful, she half expected applause. She was, after all, about to give the performance of her life.

Judge Rafferty was so eager to hear her testimony he interrupted the closing arguments so that she could take the stand. As she walked past him to take her seat behind the railing, she looked him over closely and came to the conclusion that it would take very little effort on her part to get him in the palm of her hand. Rafferty was a heavyset, middle-aged man with eyeglasses so thick his owlish eyes appeared to be three times the normal size.