"Okay. I'll handle calling the Cantrells. And I'll take care of Cathy."

"Thanks."

"Jack?"

"Huh?"

"I know you're going to be busy with the task force, but...Cathy might need you. She might-"

"If she needs anything from me, just call."

"I will."

As soon as he finished his conversation with Lorie, he phoned Cathy. G.o.d, how he wished he was back in Dunmore so he could be there to comfort her when he gave her the bad news.

The jarring ring of the telephone on the bedside table brought Cathy out of a deep sleep. Reaching from beneath the sheet and light blanket covering her, she grabbed the phone but somehow managed to knock the base off and onto the floor. As she hit the TALK b.u.t.ton on the portable handset, she didn't even bother looking at caller ID. Instead, she glanced at the digital alarm clock. Who would be calling at 2:56 in the morning? If it wasn't a wrong number, it had to be an emergency.

"h.e.l.lo."

"Cathy, this is Jack Perdue."

She shot straight up in bed. "Jack? What's wrong?"

"Listen to me," he said in a consoling voice. "Lorie's on her way there as we speak, so you won't be alone."

"I'm not alone. Seth's here. He's spending the weekend." Whatever it was, it had to be bad if he'd called Lorie first. "Just tell me, please." But she knew. Oh G.o.d, she knew.

"The Fire and Brimstone Killer has struck again."

Cathy swallowed hard. "Who?"

"A Reverend Kelley, from Decatur. It happened just a few hours ago."

"Bruce Kelley?"

"Yeah, that's the name. Why, do you know him?"

"I'm acquainted with the family," Cathy said. "One of his daughters is the director of Bright Side, a school and help center for the mentally challenged. It's located here in Dunmore."

"d.a.m.n," Jack mumbled under his breath.

"I'll wait until morning to tell Seth and call J.B. and Mona."

"You'll have to tell Seth, but Lorie will call the Cantrells. I'm sorry that I can't come straight over there, but-"

"I'll be all right. You do your job and help find the person responsible for these murders."

"We're doing all we can, honey."

"Yes, I know...I know."

"I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay."

She had no more than said good-bye and turned on the bedside lamp when she heard footsteps in the hallway. She got out of bed and picked up the phone base lying on the floor. By the time she had set it back in place, Seth called out to her from the doorway.

"Who was on the phone?" he asked, as he entered the bedroom.

"Jack Perdue."

Surveying her face and apparently sensing the worst, Seth said, "Something terrible has happened, hasn't it?"

"There's been another murder."

"The Fire and Brimstone Killer?"

Cathy nodded. "Reverend Bruce Kelley from Decatur. I know his daughter, Kim Randall. She's the director at Bright Side."

"Oh, Mom."

Looking at Seth, she saw a sad, vulnerable boy who had lost his father to an insane killer, a boy badly in need of comfort. When she held open her arms, he didn't hesitate. He went straight into her embrace. She held her tall, teenage son in her arms and asked G.o.d to give her the strength to help them both. The memories of Mark's brutal murder, his funeral and the days that followed came rushing back, front and center, for both of them. First she had to fight her own demons, and then she could help her son vanquish his.

The neighbors stayed there at the house with her mother and Mirabelle, allowing Kim and her siblings to drive to Nashville, where their father was being treated for life-threatening burns. When they arrived at the Burn Center, located on the fourth floor of the main hospital, the morning nurse in charge of the ICU, Susan Bolden, came out and spoke to them.

"The first forty-eight hours after a burn injury are the most critical," she explained. "Our immediate concerns are to prevent fluid loss and to do all we can to prevent infection."

"When can we see him?" Kim asked.

"Right now, the staff is working with him. He's been given a teta.n.u.s vaccination and is receiving fluids, electrolytes, antibiotics and pain medication through an IV. He's also been catheterized."

"Is he in horrible pain?" Kira asked, tears dampening her face.

Nurse Bolden grimaced. "He is in considerable pain, but the medication is helping him."

"Is he going to die?" Kevin asked.

"I can't answer that," Nurse Bolden replied. "Dr. c.u.mmings will speak to you sometime later today. But in the meantime, rest a.s.sured that we're doing everything possible for your father."

"Will he need skin grafts?" Kim asked.

Nurse Bolden glanced away as if she couldn't bear to look at them, but she recovered quickly and replied, "It's too soon to know what type of treatment will be required. For now, that's all I can tell you. We have a visitor's lounge on the eleventh floor for the families of our patients. It will probably be during the one o'clock visitation time before y'all can see Reverend Kelley. You might want to have breakfast in the cafeteria or drive to a nearby restaurant. Leave your cell numbers, and someone will contact you if there's any significant change in your father's condition."

With that said, Nurse Bolden disappeared into the intensive care unit. Kim looked at Kevin, who stood there with his shoulders slumped and head bowed. She knew he was praying. When she glanced at her sister, Kira immediately burst into tears and hurled herself into Kim's arms.

"Daddy's going to die, isn't he?" Kira trembled as she cried.

Kim stroked her sister's back and wished she could promise her that their dad would live. She couldn't. From what the Decatur police officers had told them, their father had been doused with gasoline and set on fire. Just like the other three clergymen. Mark Cantrell had been the first. Kim knew his wife, Cathy, who had been a volunteer at Bright Side. It didn't seem possible that the same deranged killer who had murdered Cathy's husband, an Athens minister and a Catholic priest had now tried to kill her father. Why hadn't that monster been caught and put behind bars?

By seven that Sat.u.r.day evening, it seemed to Cathy that half the world had stopped by her house during the day. Of course, that was a huge exaggeration. Lorie had been the first to arrive. Cathy was thankful that she'd stayed all day and planned to stay with her and Seth tonight. Lorie had served as a buffer between Cathy and the numerous concerned visitors, and she had taken over the dreaded task of contacting J.B. and Mona with the news of Reverend Kelley's condition. Her in-laws had shown up before breakfast, with her mother in tow, and the three of them had stayed until midafternoon. J.B. had wanted Seth to go home with them, but he had adamantly refused.

"Mom needs me to stay with her," Seth had told his grandfather. "It's what Dad would want me to do. I'm not leaving her."

J.B. had backed off reluctantly.

Donnie and Missy had come by twice, once in the morning and then again only an hour ago. John Earl and his daughters had visited briefly, and Ruth Ann had stopped by on her way home after having worked at Treasures all day. Patsy and Elliott Floyd had been among the many visitors, along with at least a dozen members of Cathy's church.

"You two have to be hungry. I don't think either of you has eaten a bite all day," Lorie said. "I'm going to fix some sandwiches, and I expect both of you to eat."

"I'll help you," Seth said as he followed Lorie toward the kitchen. He paused, glanced over his shoulder and said, "Mom, why don't you sit down or even lie down for a little while and try to relax while no one else is here. I'll come get you when the sandwiches are ready."

"Okay, I'll do that." To humor her protective son, Cathy sat on the sofa, kicked off her shoes and folded her legs at the knees as she pressed her back against the padded armrest.

She was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted, as much from the parade of well-meaning friends and acquaintances as from the knowledge that Mark's killer had struck again. But she had to admit that having had to deal with company coming and going all day had actually been a blessing, keeping her too busy to allow depression to take hold. Whenever she had gone off by herself, even for a few minutes, either Seth or Lorie had come after her. She hadn't missed the worried look in their eyes and the concerned glances they had exchanged.

The only way she could convince her son and her best friend that she was not going to fall apart was simply not to do it. Yes, whenever she had a quiet moment, such as now, memories of the day Mark had died bombarded her. Unless a person had experienced it, no one could imagine the horror of seeing someone you loved die in such an agonizing way. Mark had gone into shock, and that had lessened his chances for survival. The shock combined with the extent of the third-degree burns covering his body had made recovery impossible. Even now, Cathy asked herself if there was anything she could have done to save Mark.

His death is not your fault. There was nothing more you could have done. Even the paramedics who treated him for shock had been unable to save him.

Tears burned her eyes and tightened her throat. She had needed to cry all day, but had kept her emotions in check, as much for Seth's sake as to prove to herself that she was in control.

When the doorbell rang, she hesitated. Please, G.o.d, not more company, not now when she was on the verge of crying her heart out.

As she swung her legs off the sofa and stood, she called out to Lorie and Seth, "I'll get it."

Barefooted, she padded to the front door. The moment she peered through the viewfinder and recognized her visitor, she swung open the door. Jack Perdue stood on her porch, a five o'clock shadow darkening his face.

"Hi, honey. How are you?"

"Holding it together," she replied.

"I can't stay long. The task force is meeting for a big powwow in about an hour, but I wanted to come by and check on you."

She stepped back, allowing him room to enter. The moment he closed the door behind him, he reached out and ran his hand over her cheek. She gasped at his touch, his gentleness breaking the dam that had held her emotions in check all day. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes. Jack swiped the tears away with his fingertips.

"Ah, babe, don't do this to yourself."

She swallowed her tears as she stared up at him.

Without saying another word, he pulled her into his arms and held her firmly against him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. Odd how comforting his embrace felt.

He rubbed her back as he kissed her temple. "If you need to cry, go ahead and cry. I'll hold you. You're safe. I won't let anything bad happen to you. Not ever again."

His words were her undoing. She wept in his arms, her body trembling as she released the pent-up emotions that so desperately needed release.

"Mom, who was at the-?" Seth's question died on his lips the moment he saw Jack.

Cathy lifted her head and looked at her son, but Jack held fast, refusing to release her.

"Uh, the sandwiches are ready," Seth said. He looked right at Jack. "We've got more than enough if you'd like to eat with us, Mr. Perdue."

A sense of overwhelming relief spread through Cathy. Her son's cordial invitation to Jack had surprised her. Was it possible that he was finally accepting the fact that she and Jack were friends and her relationship with Jack or any other man was not a betrayal of her marriage vows to his father?

"Thanks," Jack replied. "I haven't had anything since a quick bite of breakfast late this morning when Mike and I stopped by McDonald's."

Cathy eased out of Jack's arms and grasped his hand. "Come on. Let's eat. I suddenly feel very hungry."

Chapter Twenty-one

The Harper family left the courthouse with uplifted spirits and thankful hearts. John Earl gave G.o.d the credit for their good fortune. Judge Stevens had taken many things into consideration, including Felicity's genuine regret and promise to stay out of trouble in the future, before announcing his decision in the juvenile court proceedings. Of course, Sheriff Birkett putting in a good word for Felicity hadn't hurt. The judge greatly respected Mike's opinion.

After they all piled into the family's SUV-that "all" included not only Ruth Ann and both of their daughters, but also his mother-in-law and his secretary, Erin McKinley-John Earl asked for a moment of silence in which to pray. He kept his words to a minimum.

"Merciful heavenly Father, hallowed is Your name. I, Your humble servant, come to You with a grateful heart. I ask that You look down upon my younger daughter, Felicity, and help her in her efforts to atone for her misconduct by doing the community service appointed to her by Judge Stevens. Let her learn from this experience. We all thank You for taking care of Felicity and helping her to see the error of her ways. Bless us, oh Lord, and may we always strive to do Your will. In Jesus' name, amen."

Ruth Ann said softly, "Amen."

Before he started the engine, he glanced from his mother-in-law to his secretary. "Would either of you like to go home?"

"I'm rather tired," Faye said, her hands folded securely in her lap. "It's been an exhausting afternoon."

"Aren't you feeling well, Mama?" Ruth Ann asked.

"I'm quite all right, just tired," Faye replied.

"Perhaps John Earl should take you home."

"No, no, that won't be necessary," Faye said. "I should go to the prayer vigil. Every prayer is important."