"Genny is going to be all right."

Silence.

"You've got to snap out of it before you go in to see her," Jazzy told him. "She'll sense something's wrong the minute she sees you. You look like a man who's been to h.e.l.l and back."

He glanced over his shoulder; his bloodshot eyes glared at Jazzy.

"All this guilt you're wallowing in won't help Genny," Jazzy said. "So take off your hair shirt and accept the fact that you're not Superman, that you're just human like the rest of us."

When he looked away from her, she grabbed his arm. "d.a.m.n it, you had no way of knowing some nut was outside waiting for a chance to shoot Genny. She's the one who is psychic, not you, and she probably didn't realize she was in danger until it was too late."

"I should have stopped her from going outside!" The words rumbled from his chest like a cannon blast.

Jazzy tightened her hold on his arm and shook him, then moved around to stand in front of him. "If this person planned to shoot Genny, he could have shot her through a window. You couldn't have prevented it. If Jacob had been there, he couldn't have, either."

Dallas didn't respond.

Jazzy released her tight grip on his arm, turned, and walked away. She had sense enough to know when to back off. Dallas wasn't ready to listen to reason. He was still too consumed by guilt and remorse. She'd been to that particular h.e.l.l a few times herself.

She met Jacob coming out of the waiting room. "How's he doing?" Jacob nodded toward the end of the hall.

"Is there something going on that I don't know about?" Jazzy asked. "He's acting like he was the one who shot her. His guilt isn't reasonable."

Jacob hesitated, then motioned for her to follow him, which she did. He pulled her around the corner where two halls crisscrossed.

"n.o.body else is to know about this. Understand?"

Jazzy nodded.

"Only Genny, Dallas, and I know." Jacob looked as if what he was about to say caused him great pain. "Dallas has been tracking a serial killer, a guy he thinks killed his niece in Mobile last year."

"Yeah, I know. So?"

"This guy kills in fives. Dallas has discovered four sets of practically identical murders occurring over the past few years. None of the victims had anything in common-except that the fifth victim in each case was gifted. The way Genny is gifted."

Jazzy's mind spun around and around, trying to absorb the implication of Jacob's statement. "The sacrificial murders here in Cherokee County-" Jazzy gasped. "My G.o.d, he came here because of Genny. She's his fifth victim."

"Dallas volunteered to act as Genny's bodyguard, and I'd planned to keep a deputy there at the house with her whenever Dallas couldn't be."

"Do you think the serial killer changed his MO and shot Genny instead of-"

"It wasn't him," Jacob said. "But I have a good idea who it might have been. All I need is one tiny sc.r.a.p of evidence and I'll haul his a.s.s into jail."

"Who are you talking about?"

Before Jacob could reply, a nurse walked down the hall toward them, calling Jacob's name.

"Sheriff Butler, you can go in to see Genny now."

Jacob whispered to Jazzy, "I'll explain later."

When Genny regained consciousness, Jazzy was at her side. She tried to lift her head, but the dizziness quickly aborted the effort.

"h.e.l.lo, sleepy girl," Jazzy said. "How do you feel? Pretty rough, huh?"

"I feel like I've been shot." Genny tried to smile, but even that simple action seemed impossible.

"Ah, sweetie. You're going to be all right. Good as new in a few weeks."

Genny glanced from side to side, then forward, and caught a glimpse of Jacob standing in the doorway. He came toward her, his movements unnaturally hurried. When he reached the bedside, he smoothed his hand over her cheek.

"You gave us a real scare, i gi do."

"Where's Dallas?"

Tense silence.

"Is he all right? He wasn't shot, too, was he?" The thought that Dallas might be dead flashed through her mind.

"He's fine. He wasn't shot," Jacob replied. "He's been here all night and he's still here somewhere. He's been in awfully bad shape. He blames himself for what happened."

"What did happen?" Genny asked.

"You went outside to feed the animals before Dallas could stop you and somebody hiding in the woods shot you," Jacob said.

"Who-? Oh, Lord, Jacob, do you think it was-?"

"Either Esther or Reverend Stowe. You got too close to their wicked little secret."

"Find Dallas," Genny said. "I want to see him."

"Hey, girl, there are a few other people out there dying to see you. Aunt Sally and Ludie. Wallace. Royce and Brian. And-"

"I want Dallas!"

"Calm down," Jazzy told her. "I'll go find Dallas and bring him to you if I have to hog-tie him and drag him in here."

"No, you stay with Genny." Jacob leaned over and kissed Genny's forehead. "You rest and stop worrying. I'll find Dallas."

It took Jacob over thirty minutes to find Dallas, and in the meantime he'd gotten a call from Tim Willingham telling him they had found sh.e.l.l casings, footprints, and a piece of material snagged on a bush in the woods near Genny's house. Evidence. Proof that the shooter was a rank amateur, someone who'd been very sloppy. The sacrificial killer was an overconfident pro, who covered his tracks and left behind nothing. Nothing but his DNA. But the really good news about the shooter was that Tommy Patrick, Genny's neighbor who lived on a farm half a mile up the road, had been hunting down a stray cow that had wandered off into the woods at sunset, right about the time Genny was shot. Tommy had heard the rifle fire and had seen a man running through the woods to a car parked on a dirt path leading to the main road. The tall, thin, dark-haired man had been driving a older model BMW that fit the description of the one belonging to Esther Stowe.

Bingo! Got 'em!

Jacob paused before approaching Dallas and tried to put himself in the guy's shoes. What would be the best way to handle him? h.e.l.l, man, what would be the best way for somebody to handle you if you were in this situation?

Dallas sat alone in the empty snack bar. Hunched over, his arms crossed and resting on the tabletop, he stared off into s.p.a.ce. Not much traffic in the snack bar at five-thirty in the morning. When Dallas heard Jacob approach, he lifted his head and looked straight across the room.

"Has something happened to Genny?" Dallas asked.

"Yeah, something's happened. She's awake and asking for you."

Dallas's shoulders slumped.

"I want you to go upstairs and see her before we drive over to the Stowes and bring them in for questioning," Jacob said.

"Then your team found some sort of evidence against them?" Dallas's eyes brightened, and his shoulders lifted.

"Yeah, the best kind-an eyewitness who places a man fitting the reverend's description in the woods near Genny's house. And he saw this man get into a car identical to the one Esther Stowe drives."

Strain marred Dallas's features as he shut his eyes for a moment. Jacob knew he was thanking G.o.d, thanking the Good Lord that Genny was all right and that they probably had enough evidence to arrest Haden Stowe for attempted murder.

Jacob moved closer to the table where Dallas sat. "I'm sure you want to be there when I question them."

"You know it." Dallas rose from his chair.

"We'll head over to the courthouse just as soon as you go upstairs and see Genny."

"I can't." Dallas avoided direct eye contact with Jacob.

"You can and you will. She's up there waiting for you. She didn't understand why you weren't there when she woke up."

Jacob clamped his hand down on Dallas's shoulder. Their gazes locked and held, two fierce combatants, neither giving an inch.

"How do I face her after what happened?" Dallas glanced away first.

Jacob released his tenacious hold on Dallas's shoulder. "She's not going to blame you. n.o.body holds you responsible for what happened, except you."

"How would you feel if you'd been the one who was supposed to be guarding her?"

"I'd feel just like you do. But I'd suck it up and go on with what had to be done. I'd face my worst fear. I'd walk into that ICU unit and let Genny know that I hadn't deserted her, that I never would."

Five minutes later, Dallas stood outside Genny's ICU cubicle, his hands sweating and his stomach tied in knots. Jazzy glanced up from where she sat by Genny's bed, smiled at him, and motioned for him to come on in. He hesitated, his heart hammering in his ears. Jazzy said something to Genny, then got up and walked toward him.

She paused beside him and said quietly, "It's about time you showed up. Genny's been about to fret herself to death about you. Now get your a.s.s in there and tell that woman you love her and you're sorry you worried her."

Dallas let out a pent-up breath, nodded, and forced his legs into action. When he was halfway across the cubicle, Genny saw him. For the rest of his life he'd remember the look on her face. Joy. No other word could describe her expression.

"Dallas." Her soft voice was terribly weak.

He all but ran the last few feet to her bedside.

"I've been so worried about you," she said and lifted her trembling hand.

Dallas grabbed that small, delicate hand and brought it to his mouth, kissed it, then held it to his cheek. She was the one who'd been shot-because he'd been lax in his attention for a couple of minutes-yet she was the one worried about him.

"I thought I'd die," he said, choking on his emotions.

"I would have felt the same if you'd been hurt. But you can stop hurting now. Release the pain. Let it go. I'm going to be all right. What happened wasn't your fault."

He swallowed hard, then kissed her hand again several times before he leaned over and kissed her mouth tenderly. "I love you, Genny Madoc."

"I know. I love you, too."

Dallas sat across the room in the corner while Jacob questioned Esther Stowe. Her husband was cooling his heels in another room, waiting for his lawyer. Esther had waived her rights to have an attorney present, telling them that she hadn't done anything wrong.

"I didn't have anything to do with shooting your cousin," Esther said. "Why would I want to hurt her?"

"You tell me," Jacob said. "Why would you or your husband want to kill Genny?"

Esther shrugged.

"We have a witness who saw your husband leaving the scene of the crime," Jacob said, stretching the truth slightly. "And that witness saw Reverend Stowe get into your car. Were you with him? Did you sit there and wait for him while he staked out Genny's house and shot her the minute she walked outside?"

"I didn't go anywhere with him. He drove off like a madman after we had an argument. How am I supposed to know what he was doing out in the woods? Besides, maybe your witness was wrong, maybe-"

"Does your husband own a rifle?"

"He has several rifles. Haden likes to hunt."

"If the bullet the doctor dug out of Genny's back matches one of your husband's rifles, then we'll have all the evidence the district attorney will need to prosecute the reverend for attempted murder."

"Okay, let's say he did try to kill her." Esther glanced at Dallas standing beside the window, then looked right at Jacob. "It's nothing to do with me. I wasn't with him. I'm not a part of it."

Jacob continued questioning Esther for a good thirty minutes, then took a break. Dallas figured he realized he wasn't going to break Mrs. Stowe. She was as tough as nails.

Jacob called Tewanda, who'd skipped her cla.s.ses today just so she could pull a double shift and help out. The young deputy came to the office door and waited.

"Take Mrs. Stowe with you," Jacob said. "Get her something to drink and find her a place to relax for a few minutes."

After Tewanda escorted Esther from the room, Jacob shut the door and turned to Dallas. "I didn't do a very good job with her."

"You did fine. She's not going to tell you anything. As long as you don't have anything on her, she isn't worried. Even if people find out that she practices some form of devil worship and claims to be a witch, neither is actually a crime, not unless you can prove she's responsible for the animal sacrifices. As for her husband-she doesn't give a rat's a.s.s if you nail his hide to the wall."

Dallas went over to the coffeemaker and poured two mugs full of the dark brew, handed one to Jacob, then took a sip from his.

"Tim's bringing Tommy Patrick in. They should be here soon. If Tommy can ID Haden Stowe, we won't have to wait any longer to arrest the b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"Even if your guy can't positively ID Stowe, you should be able to get a search warrant for the parsonage. My bet is you'll find the gun Stowe used, as well as the shoes and coat he wore. It's only a matter of a little lab work and you'll have this case sewed up."

Someone knocked on the door. Dallas and Jacob turned just in time to see a stout, middle-aged man in a three-piece suit ease the door open and poke his head in to test the waters.

"Come on in, Maxie," Jacob said, then made an introduction. "Special Agent Dallas Sloan, let me introduce you to Maxwell Fennel, Reverend Stowe's attorney."

"May I come in?" Maxwell asked.

Jacob motioned him in. "Have you seen your client yet?"

"Just talked to him. He's a sorry sight. Pretty busted up about what happened. The man's on the verge of a nervous breakdown."