"She's right, you know." Dallas inclined his head toward Genny, but didn't look at her. "I can help you."

"How's that?"

"I can tell you that there will be three more victims, that they'll all be women who live in and around this area, that they'll be chosen at random, and that there's something special about the fifth victim."

"And that would be?" Jacob asked.

"He'll cut out her heart and take it with him."

Genny gasped.

"You've lost me," Jacob admitted. "You're basing this theory on a series of five murders that took place last year in Mobile, the fourth victim your niece. What makes you so sure that, even given the similarities, the killer's the same man who murdered Susie and Cindy? And what makes you think there will be a total of five victims here in my county?"

"Because since my niece's death eight months ago, I've gotten some unofficial help from friends at the Bureau, and we know that during the past eight years there have been four almost identical cases-twenty murders in all. In Mobile, Alabama; Hilton Head, South Carolina; Lafayette, Louisiana; and Breckenridge, Texas. And in each case there were exactly five victims. And in each case the killer removed the fifth victim's heart."

"And there is no connection between the five victims? Nothing that linked them together in any other way?" Jacob asked.

"Nothing the local law enforcement agencies could figure out." Dallas wondered just how honest he should be with Jacob Butler. "These four sets of murders I mentioned...I'm the one who figured out that they were identical and that there's only one killer-a serial killer who moves around on a fairly regular basis."

"Could be you're grasping at straws," Jacob said. "You want to find your niece's killer so you've built a case on the evidence you've unearthed. You can't be certain that we're dealing with the same man who killed your niece."

"And you can't be certain that we aren't," Dallas told him. "If we are, there are three more women out there-in your county-who are going to die a really gruesome death. Unless we work together to stop him."

Chapter 8.

Brian MacKinnon slapped the newspaper down on top of his desk and smiled. Today's issue of the Cherokee Pointe Herald, owned and operated by his family for four generations, would hit the stands in a couple of hours. The article he had personally written about the two brutal murders in the area, yesterday morning and this morning, made both Chief Watson and Sheriff Butler look like b.u.mbling fools. He'd known for years that Watson was a joke, remaining in office only because Big Jim Upton's power and influence kept him there. Everybody knew that Big Jim had Watson in his hip pocket. Butler was a different matter altogether. The sheriff was an elected official, put in office by the people of the county. It galled Brian that his own father was such a staunch Butler supporter, which certainly hadn't hurt the guy during last year's election. Despite his mixed heritage, Jacob Butler was well liked by just about everyone who knew him. His background in the navy had made him a local hero. Rumors abounded about his exploits as a navy SEAL.

Brian had tried hard to make Butler like him. For Genny's sake. But for some reason the man had taken an instant dislike to him, which certainly didn't help his cause to woo and win the fair Genevieve. He wasn't quite sure when he realized he was in love with the beautiful young woman. It had happened so gradually that it had taken him by surprise. She wasn't the type he usually found attractive; nothing like his ex-wife Phyllis, who'd been worldly and sophisticated. Genny mesmerized him with her beauty, her gentleness, her kind heart. He'd never known anyone like her. Of course he'd heard the rumors-that she was like her Granny Butler, whom the town had called a witch. But how could anyone who knew Genny believe there was anything evil about such an angelic creature?

He had worked longer and harder to win Genny's friendship than he ever had to finagle any other woman into his bed. She had never encouraged him, never given him the slightest hope that their relationship could evolve into a romantic relationship, but he felt certain that sooner or later he would wear her down. All he needed was patience. Several months ago, just when he'd decided he would soon be able to ask Genny to marry him, another man had come between them: Royce Pierpont, the effeminate jacka.s.s. The man had driven into town in his shiny silver Lexus, opened an antique shop on Main Street, and zeroed in on Genny almost immediately. She had succ.u.mbed to his good looks and charm, as had several other ladies in town.

The very thought of Pierpont or any other man touching Genny enraged Brian to the point of near madness. She'd allowed him to kiss her, but nothing more. He suspected that Pierpont had gotten no further. His Genny was pure. A true innocent when it came to men. There was no doubt in his mind that she was a virgin. He wanted her to remain unsullied, to come to him undefiled on their wedding night.

A repet.i.tive knock on the outer door snapped Brian away from the delicious thoughts of Genny.

He stayed seated, conveniently concealing his state of arousal. Whenever he thought about making love to Genny, he got hard.

"Yes?"

The door opened and his secretary, Glenda, poked her head in and said, "Your Uncle Wallace is here."

h.e.l.l! What was that fruitcake doing coming to see him at the office? His father's younger brother was the family disgrace, a mentally r.e.t.a.r.ded old fart who should have been shipped off to an asylum years ago. But, like his parents before him, Brian's father refused to even consider the possibility of locking Wallace away. Instead, they pampered him, humored him, and let him roam around town as if he were normal. As luck would have it, Genny had a soft spot in her heart for Wallace. Her grandmother had hired Wallace to come to work for her when he was twenty. And after the old woman's death, Genny had kept his now seventy-year-old uncle on at full salary, although he wasn't worth half what she paid him.

Brian had realized early on in his relationship with Genny that he could use her fondness for Wallace to his advantage.

"Tell Uncle Wallace to come on in. And, Glenda, bring us a couple of Dr. Peppers. Uncle Wallace especially likes them."

Glenda lifted her eyebrows in a gesture of surprise, but wisely kept any comments to herself. Brian knew he had a reputation for being a real a.s.shole. But he'd found that if you were too lenient with employees, they took advantage of you. And n.o.body took advantage of Brian MacKinnon.

Like a clumsy grizzly bear, Wallace lumbered into the office. His uncle stood six-three, possessed a rounded potbelly, and wore overalls and a baseball cap. A shock of thick gray hair stuck out on either side of the cap. He kept his face clean-shaven, thanks to daily grooming at a local barbershop, paid for by the MacKinnon family. Wallace squandered away his own meager salary with donations to the county's animal shelter and by giving handouts to every Tom, d.i.c.k, and Harry with a sob story.

"What can I do for you?" Brian remained sitting.

"Have you heard from Genny today?" Wallace asked as he removed his baseball cap and scratched his head.

"I've tried contacting her, but her phone's out of order," Brian replied. "The ice from last night's storm downed power and telephone lines out that way."

"I been up there. Got a ride with Bill Davis. I been all the way up to Genny's house to make sure she was doing okay. And she wasn't there," Wallace said breathlessly, the words tumbling from him in a rush.

"She wasn't at home? Did you check everywhere?"

"Her truck was gone, too."

"Then maybe she's in town. I'll call-"

"Yeah, that's it. Why didn't I think of that? Genny's come into town." Wallace reached out, grabbed Brian's arm, and shook his hand, pumping it repeatedly. "I've been so worried about Genny. You know there's a bad person out there killing people. I don't want any bad person hurting Genny."

Brian managed to jerk his hand free from his uncle's tenacious grip. "If you'd like, I'll call Jazzy. I'm sure if Genny's in town, Jazzy will know where she is." He would prefer not to speak to Jasmine Talbot, but if necessary he would. Like Jacob, Genny's best friend, Jazzy, didn't seem to care for him at all. No doubt she, too, had tried to convince Genny not to date him.

"That's all right," Wallace said. "I can just go over to Miss Jazzy's place and ask her myself."

"All right. You do that." Brian stood, finally free from his embarra.s.sing erection. "And when you find Genny, ask her to give me a call. Tell her I've been concerned...worried about her."

"You like Genny, too, don't you?" Wallace grinned, which made him look even more simpleminded than he was.

"Yes, I'm very fond of Genny."

Glenda stopped at the open door, two frosty bottles of Dr. Pepper in her hands. "Want these now?"

Brian motioned to her. "Sure we do. Come on in."

Glenda handed a bottle to Brian, then to Wallace. She smiled at Wallace and said, "How are you today, Mr. MacKinnon?"

Wallace chuckled. "I'm not Mr. MacKinnon. That's my brother, Farlan. I'm just Wallace."

"Well, how are you, Wallace?" Glenda rephrased her question.

"I'm just fine, thank you, ma'am."

Brian cleared his throat. Glenda fled the office.

"People say you're not a very nice man, but they're wrong." Wallace lifted the bottle to his mouth and downed half the cola in one long swig. He grinned at Brian. "You've changed from the way you used to be. It's because of Genny, isn't it?"

Brian hated being given the third degree by his crazy uncle, but he could hardly admit the only reason he bothered giving Wallace the time of day was to impress Genny.

"Yeah, it's because of Genny. She's a very special lady."

"You love her."

Brian sucked in his cheeks, then released them. "I want to keep that a secret for now, just between the two of us. I'm not quite ready to tell Genny how I feel."

"She loves you, too."

Brian's heartbeat thundered in his ears. "What?"

"Genny loves you and she loves me. Genny loves everybody."

Brian forced himself to pat Wallace on the back. "Yes, of course she does. Now, you run along to Jazzy's and ask her about Genny."

"All right." Wallace headed toward the open office door.

Brian did love Genny. Loved her to distraction. And someday soon she would love him, too. But not the way Wallace meant. Genny would love him pa.s.sionately, the way a woman loves a man. When she was his wife, he would tutor her in the ways to please him.

Feeling a renewed arousal, Brian plopped down in his chair behind his desk, then called to his uncle, "Don't forget to tell Genny that I've been worried about her."

"Why don't I go over to Jasmine's and get Gertie to fix supper for us," Genny said. "I know you two have a great deal to discuss and probably don't want me around."

"It's not that I don't want you around," Jacob said. "It's just-"

"You and Dallas need time to figure out if you trust each other and if you can actually work together. And if I'm here, neither of you can be brutally honest."

"Get Gertie to put together some soup and sandwiches and bring them back over here," Jacob said. "Then, after supper, I'll follow you home."

Genny left Dallas with Jacob, knowing before she walked out the door that Jacob wouldn't be the one following her home tonight. Already Dallas had decided he would save the sheriff the trip. She sensed how hard Dallas was fighting his attraction to her, but knew that in the end, he would lose that particular battle. He had come to Cherokee County on a personal quest, not to find romance with a woman who claimed to possess psychic abilities he didn't believe existed. She understood why he didn't want anything sidetracking him from his mission. He resented being distracted by anything or anyone who might interfere with him capturing the man who'd killed his niece. And right now, the biggest question in both Dallas's and Jacob's minds was whether or not the man who had murdered Dallas's niece was the same person who had sacrificed Susie Richards and Cindy Todd.

As Genny made her way up the street toward Jasmine's, she thought about the last time she'd seen Cindy. The mayor's wife had driven up the mountain to talk to her about a month ago, right before Christmas. As a general rule, Genny didn't do "readings." But for a select few who desperately needed help, Genny used her special powers. If ever someone had needed help, it was Cindy. An abused child who'd gotten pregnant by her boyfriend at sixteen, given up a baby for adoption at seventeen, and then had gotten hooked on drugs, Cindy's young life had been a horror story. When Jerry Lee Todd had vacationed in Florida six years ago, he'd swept Cindy off her feet in a whirlwind romance and brought her home to Cherokee Pointe with him. He'd given her a fict.i.tious personal history and tried to pa.s.s her off as what he referred to as quality. But in their private lives, Jerry Lee had gradually become abusive. Emotionally abusive at first, then, in the past year, physically abusive as well. Even in the very first year of her marriage, Cindy had turned to other men for comfort, reverting to the bad habits of a lifetime.

Genny had seen unhappiness ahead for Cindy and advised her to leave Jerry Lee. She had thought the tragedy she'd sensed in Cindy's future could be averted if she escaped from her abusive husband. But now it seemed that the tragedy Genny foresaw hadn't had anything to do with Cindy's marriage.

Stopping outside the restaurant, Genny kicked the snow off her boots and opened one of the double doors. When she entered the restaurant, the comfy indoor warmth surrounded her. It took a couple of minutes for her eyesight to adjust from the brightness outside to the dimmer lighting inside. After taking off her coat and draping it over her arm, she moved past the entrance and headed toward the kitchen. As she glanced around, she noticed there was only a handful of customers seated at various tables and booths. Since it was early for the supper crowd, she was surprised the place wasn't empty. Before she reached the kitchen doors, Misty Harte called out to her.

"Hey there, Genny."

Genny paused and turned to face the woman who'd been chasing after Jacob for quite some time. Misty was Deputy Bobby Joe Harte's older sister. Thirty-five. Twice divorced. No children.

"Hi, Misty. How are you?"

"Doing just fine. How about you?" Genny casually scanned the woman from head to toe. Bleached blond hair, pulled back in a ponytail. Bright red lipstick and nail polish. A pair of huge gold hoops in her ears. And her waitress uniform of dark slacks and white blouse hugged her slender, long-legged figure.

"I'm okay. I need to see Jazzy. I want to put in an order for supper to go."

"She's not in the kitchen," Misty said. "She's in her office."

"Thanks. I'll place my order, then pop in Jazzy's office for a few minutes."

Genny started to turn away, but before she could take a step, Misty asked, "Are you getting supper for Jacob?"

Genny let out a quiet sigh. "That's right."

"I guess he's working late tonight, what with those two murders and all. d.a.m.n shame about Cindy Todd and Susie Richards. Who'd ever believe something like that could happen around here."

"Yes, Jacob's working very late, and I plan to have supper with him before I go home."

"Tell him Misty said hi."

"I'll do that." Genny forced a smile. It wasn't that she didn't like Misty, it was simply that she didn't think Misty was the right woman for Jacob. And Misty wasn't the type to give up easily.

After giving her supper order to Gertie Walker, the cook at Jasmine's, who had been trained by Miss Ludie, Genny made her way down the back hallway toward Jazzy's office. Before reaching the partially open door, she heard Jazzy's voice.

"Don't bother trying to see me again," Jazzy said. "I told you last night that I don't want to have anything to do with you. Not ever again."

Genny knocked on the door to alert Jazzy of her presence. Otherwise she would have felt no better than an eavesdropper even though Jazzy would no doubt tell her everything. The two had no secrets from each another. They'd shared their innermost thoughts and feelings since childhood.

"Leave me the h.e.l.l alone!" Jazzy slammed down the receiver, then shoved back her chair and stood. She glanced toward the door and said, "Come on in."

"Let me guess who that was on the phone." Genny entered the office and closed the door behind her.

"He thinks if he keeps after me, I'll eventually give in to him." Jazzy came over and hugged Genny. "What are you doing in town? I've tried several times today to call you, without any luck. I figured the phone lines were down."

"I brought someone into town to see Jacob."

Jazzy starred at Genny questioningly.

"His name is Dallas Sloan. He's an FBI agent whose car skidded off into a ditch not far from my house last night."

"The Feds are involved?"

"Not officially."

"You're confusing me."

"Dallas's niece was murdered in a fashion similar to the way Susie Richards and Cindy Todd were killed. Nearly a year ago in Mobile."

Jazzy rubbed her hands up and down her arms. "This whole business of a guy out there using women in Cherokee County as sacrificial lambs scares the bejesus out of me." Jazzy studied Genny for a moment, then said, "You called this guy *Dallas.' How'd you get on a first-name basis so quickly? And just where did he spend the night last night?"

Genny couldn't stop her lips from twitching in an almost-smile. "He stayed at my house, in a guest room. And it's strange, but...I feel as if I know him, as if I've always known him."

"Uh-oh. Let me guess-he's tall, dark, dangerous, and devastatingly good-looking."

Genny laughed. "He's tall, blond, devastatingly good-looking, and"-her expression became somber-"in a great deal of emotional pain."

"You've got a thing for him, don't you?" Jazzy grabbed Genny's shoulders and shook her playfully. "Was it love at first sight?"