'I don't know, but we're taking no chances. Is Royce there?'

'He's waiting in the car.' Gwyn sounded small and frightened, and Lucy's jaw clenched. How dare he involve her friends?

It was supposed to be you, Lucy. You were supposed to be there. The thought made her sick. What if Gwyn had been there alone?

'Okay,' Lucy said, staying calm, 'I want you to call 911, then call Royce to come up and wait with you.'

'Okay.' Gwyn was crying and Lucy had to swallow her fury.

'I'll call Fitzpatrick, then Thorne. I'll be there as soon as I can.' Fingers trembling, Lucy dialed Fitzpatrick's number from memory. 'JD, it's Lucy. We have another box.'

'What? Where?'

'Gwyn's place. I stayed with the Mulhausers last night, but I was supposed to be there. She's calling 911. Can you meet us there? It's my apartment complex, across the green.'

'I'll be there as soon as I can. I have to go into the office first.'

Lucy frowned. 'What's happened?'

He hesitated a moment, then swore softly. 'Janet Gordon's son is Ryan Agar.'

'I don't know that name, but let me guess. He graduated with my brother.'

'Yes. He played on that same championship team.'

She sighed. 'So did you call him? Do I need to do an ID with him today?'

'Yes on the ID, no on the call. Not exactly, anyway. Somebody called Agar at ten our time last night. Told him his mother was dead.'

'That's impossible. Unless . . .' Lucy's jaw went tight as understanding dawned. 'That motherfucker.' She winced. 'Sorry, Rhoda.'

Rhoda Mulhauser looked concerned and fascinated all at once. 'That's okay.'

'It gets better,' Fitzpatrick said. 'The caller said he was me.'

Lucy bit back another curse. 'He's playing with us. Where is the son?'

'In Hyatt's office. I have to go check him out. I'll let Hyatt and Drew know about the box. We'll have someone there as soon as possible. Do not go into Gwyn's apartment yourself.'

'I'm not stupid, JD,' she snapped.

'I know,' he said quietly. 'I'm sorry. I wanted to . . . Never mind. I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll send one of the others out right away.'

Never mind. What had he wanted to say? Or do? Lucy stood up, putting him out of her mind as best she could. 'Thanks for breakfast, Rhoda. Craig, we need to hurry.'

'I'll stay with you at your friend's place until Fitzpatrick arrives,' Craig said.

'Actually, you'll be needed in the morgue to do an ID. Next of kin of last night's victim has come from out of town. There'll be lots of cops at Gwyn's. I'll be fine.' She softened her refusal with a smile. 'But thank you.'

Tuesday, May 4, 8.40 A.M.

Ryan Agar was a big, quiet man. His face was tanned, and even though he was only about forty, he looked much older. It was his eyes, JD thought. They were desolate.

He sat at a table in one of the interview rooms, an untouched cup of coffee in front of his folded hands. 'I'd like to see my mother.'

'We're making the arrangements,' JD said. 'We weren't expecting you this early.'

Agar met his eyes. 'So I hear. You're not the man who called me.'

'No, sir,' JD said. 'We're tracing that call now. How did that other man sound?'

'I don't know. His voice wasn't as deep. Had more of an accent.'

'What kind of accent, Mr Agar?' Stevie asked.

'Not southern, but not northern. Definitely not Midwest. Why would he pretend to be you?'

'We don't know,' JD said. 'Do you know anyone who'd want to hurt your mother?'

'My mother was not a milk-and-cookies kind of woman. Not many people liked her unless they wanted something from her. But to murder her? That I don't know.'

'When was the last time you saw her?' Stevie asked.

'Last Christmas. I make a yearly pilgrimage.' His voice had grown sardonic. 'We have dinner at a fancy restaurant. She gives me a gift which I cannot use and tells me how well I'm looking. We exchange pleasantries that mean nothing and then I go home.' His eyes unexpectedly filled with tears. 'Please tell me she didn't suffer.'

JD and Stevie exchanged a glance and Agar's face crumpled. He bowed his head as silent sobs shook his massive shoulders. JD placed a box of tissues at his elbow and he and Stevie patiently waited for the initial storm to pass.

'We're sorry for your loss,' Stevie said softly when Agar's shoulders finally stilled. 'We know this is a hard time for you, but we need to ask you some questions.'

Agar lifted his head, his glare harsh. 'Do you have any leads?'

'We do,' Stevie said, 'but only because your mother isn't the first victim. Mr Agar, do you know a man named Russell Bennett?'

For a moment Agar froze. Then he swallowed. 'The name sounds familiar.'

'He was found dead yesterday morning,' Stevie said. 'Many of his injuries are similar to those we found on your mother. Do you know if they knew each other?'

Agar frowned, his confusion feigned. 'It's possible. She knew a lot of people.'

'Mr Agar,' Stevie said, 'you went to high school with a Russell Bennett.'

He swallowed again, harder this time. 'Oh. That Russell Bennett? I kind of remember him. We lost touch after high school.'

'What about Malcolm Edwards?' JD asked softly. 'Do you kind of remember him?'

Agar's eyes flickered wildly. 'Why?'

'Because he disappeared two months ago. He's thought to have been lost at sea.'

'I don't see what that has to do with my mother or me.'

'Edwards and Bennett both had their bank accounts wiped the day they were last seen.' JD let the statement hang and watched as realization dawned in Agar's eyes.

What color remained behind his tanned face slid away. 'My mother's accounts were wiped? All of them?'

'At least one,' Stevie said. 'These men and your mother are connected. They all came from your hometown, they all had their accounts wiped, and they're all dead.'

Agar moistened his lips. 'Why?'

'That's what we want to know,' Stevie said, her voice dropping to a menacing murmur.

'There's one more connection, Mr Agar,' JD said coldly, when Agar didn't reply. 'Bennett was a plastic surgeon. He did at least one procedure for your mother. And if we're not mistaken, he visited her apartment on more than one occasion.'

Agar flinched. 'Bennett operated on my mother? No, that's not possible.'

'Why would you say that's not possible?' Stevie asked.

'B-because,' Agar stammered. 'Mother was beautiful. She didn't need surgery.'

Stevie sat back, her expression annoyed. 'Mr Agar, I have three bodies in the morgue. Please don't bullshit me.'

His eyes widened. 'Three? I thought you said Edwards was lost at sea.'

'He was,' Stevie said. 'A young man was murdered last night at the scene where we found your mother's body. Something is going on here, something that has to do with your hometown. What happened in Anderson Ferry, Mr Agar?'

'I said I don't know,' Agar said, his teeth clenched. 'I need to go. You have my cell number. Please call me when I can identify my mother's body.'

'What about Buck Trask?' JD asked, as he and Stevie had prearranged he would if Agar had gone the bullshit route, which he had.

Agar paused, halfway out of his chair. Slowly he sat back down. 'He died more than twenty years ago,' he said carefully. 'It was a tragic accident. What about him?'

'He's connected too,' JD said coldly. 'Or at least his family is.'

'I don't understand.'

'The bodies of both Bennett and your mother were discovered by Lucy Trask,' JD said. 'They were left for her to find.'

Agar shook his head. 'I don't understand what you mean. I don't remember her.'

'Buck's younger sister,' Stevie said.

Again he shook his head, a little more desperately. 'I don't know her. I don't know why she found my mother's body. Are we finished now?' He stood up. 'You can't keep me here.'

'You're right,' JD said levelly, 'but before you walk out of here, I want you to remember that somebody drew you here. There has to be a reason for that.'

'Are you saying I'm next?' he asked, fear in his voice.

JD shrugged. 'I'm saying I'd be careful,' he said, then rose to look Agar straight in the eye. 'I'm saying I think you know a lot more than you're telling. And I'm saying that if anyone else gets hurt, I'm holding you personally responsible.'

Agar's eyes closed and his throat worked nervously. JD hoped he'd talk, but then he opened his eyes and JD knew he would not. 'I need to go.'

'I'll take you to someone who can get you a list of hotels,' Stevie said, 'and get an officer to drive you to whichever you pick. My partner is right, Mr Agar. You were brought here for a reason. We'd hate to see anything happen to you.'

Agar nodded once but said no more.

JD watched the man go, irritated as hell. He picked up the phone on the table and called Hyatt. 'It's Fitzpatrick. Ryan Agar knows what this is all about and won't tell us. Stevie's helping him find a hotel room. We need to put a tail on him. My money says he's going to run.'

'I'll take care of the tail. You and Mazzetti get over here for morning meeting.'

'We will.' He hesitated. 'Have you heard from Drew about the newest box?'

'Not yet. Call him on your way. We're waiting for you.'

JD hung up, then dialed Drew, waiting several rings before he picked up. 'It's Fitzpatrick. You got the box?'

'Yes,' Drew said. 'X-ray says it's fist-sized. The blood on the resident's coffee table says we've probably got another heart and that it wasn't frozen.'

JD grimaced. 'It leaked?'

'All over the damn place. We've taken prints off the door and the knob and the table. Nothing else looks like it was disturbed. Morton and Skinner canvassed the building. Nobody saw anything. No cameras in this building, just like in Dr Trask's. Same development, different building. Shitty security.'

'Any sign of forced entry?'

'No. Appears they had a key.'

'Is Dr Trask still there?'

'Yes, standing outside in the hall with her friend. You want to talk to her?'

Tuesday, May 4, 8.50 A.M.

'We're never going to get that black fingerprint powder off the walls,' Gwyn said wearily. 'And that blood will never come out of the carpet.'

'It'll be okay,' Royce said, his arm around Gwyn's shoulders. 'I'll help you scrub.'

'And we'll get new carpet,' Lucy said. 'I'm sorry.'

Gwyn sighed. 'It's not your fault. I'm just glad we weren't here at the time.'

'Amen,' Thorne said. He'd come right away, just as he always did when they called. He stood behind them, feet spread, arms crossed. Like a bad-ass bodyguard, prepared for anything. 'From here on out, you two do not go anywhere alone.'

Royce nodded. 'Gwyn will stay with me tonight.'

Gwyn frowned up at him. 'I thought you had to go out of town tonight. You've got that sales review in Atlanta.'

'I'll move some things around, put my trip off for a few days. My client will understand. This is a lot more important.' Royce's expression was stern. 'What are the cops doing about this, Lucy? This has to stop.'

'I know,' Lucy said. 'Believe me, they know, too.'