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He didn’t seem the type to be overly afraid of that. After all, he’d murdered a man behind her studio, before nightfall, and hehadn’t bothered to wear a mask then. So why had he worn one in her house?

Focus.Was there anything else odd? She replayed the moments in her mind, allowing herself to feel his hand over her mouth, his breath on her cheek. The sick knot in her stomach grew.

Eric’s hand closed over hers again, snapping her back to the present. “It’s okay. You don’t have to go there again right now.”

She sucked in air. “Sorry. I don’t know why thinking about that night is so much harder than remembering the first time. I mean, he tried to kill me when he caught me by my studio. At least, I think he did.” She rubbed her neck but quickly lowered her hand when she realized she’d drawn Eric’s attention to the lingering bruises. The flash in his eyes betrayed his anger on her behalf. “But he didn’t hurt me Saturday night, even though he could have.” Pushing her down hardly counted, despite the few hidden bruises she sported from the fall as well as from the way he’d ground the barrel of his gun into her spine.

“Both were traumatic,” he said quietly. “But the second attack was more personal. He came after you in your own home. Invaded your private space and threatened to harm you.”

“But then he just ran off. He didn’t warn me not to talk, and he didn’t follow through with the things he implied.” She heard the frustration in her own voice. “I’m so, so thankful he didn’t, but I don’t understand why. Why go to all that trouble and then leave me behind? He didn’t get anything out of it besides the satisfaction of seeing me scared. So what was the point of putting me through all of it?”

21

Allye’s questions continued to ringin Eric’s mind as he combed the streets of Kincaid, searching again for Dion. What had been the purpose of Friday night’s break-in? Assuming it had all happened in the first place. With a body in the morgue testifying to the veracity of her initial report, he hesitated to dismiss her other accounts out of hand. But he still couldn’t deny how preposterous some of the details sounded. Most of it they could explain away. Even the guy’s abandonment of her could be chalked up to him getting spooked by something Allye hadn’t seen or heard. If only it weren’t for that green glow. But that element coupled with the other would overshadow everything else she claimed had happened that night, and they’d cast serious doubt on the other encounters.

If they caught this guy—which he fully intended to do—Allye would be the star witness in the murder trial. And he could only imagine how viciously a defense attorney would rip her and her testimony apart if he caught wind of this story. And he would. There was a police report on file.

Eric scrubbed at his hair. He didn’t even know whether he believed the break-in had happened. He believed she believed it. But after the trauma of seeing a murder in progress and beingattacked herself? Hearing her attacker’s voice again on the trail could have triggered a night terror of some sort. That would make a lot of sense actually. He could work with that assumption. After all, he’d seen the marks on her neck the day after the initial encounter. Something had obviously happened.

But a defense attorney wouldn’t leave it at that. He’d pounce on the green glow and use it as proof that Allye’s testimony couldn’t be trusted. Her credibility, perhaps even her sanity, would be questioned.

And there was nothing Eric could do about that. His job was to figure out who committed a crime and to collect enough evidence for the courts. Allye’s testimony was part of that, but especially now that they had a body, he would have more to work with.

There was strong evidence their John Doe’s murder hadn’t occurred out in the woods, at least not where he’d been dumped. There was no sign there’d been a struggle in the immediate area, and Starnes had pointed out a notable discrepancy in the amount of blood on the victim’s skin and clothes compared to the almost negligible amount found elsewhere in the grave. Plus, he’d discovered bits of gravel stuck to the man’s back, inside his waistline and pockets, and in his hair—gravel that matched what was outside Allye’s studio.

“Lord, I could use some extra help with this one. I need to find this guy and find the evidence to convict him—with or without Allye’s testimony.” He executed a left turn. “And, Lord? Help Allye too. Something is going on with her, and the stress of all this can’t be making it better.” He raked his gaze over the sidewalks and down side streets as he passed them. “While I’m at it, protect Dion too. If Allye’s right, he’s playing with fire. Keep him safe and help us find him before he gets into worse trouble.”

Dion’s likely involvement with drugs weighed on him. He wasn’t surprised, really. Family cycles were hard to break. Buthe’d hoped for better for the teen. Tried to make a difference in his life and the lives of other teen and preteen boys in the community, like Officer Mike had done for him. Lot of good he’d done. Some of the boys did all right, but so many of the ones without strong family support dropped out of the church program soon after the pressures of high school hit—or as soon as they were old enough that their parents no longer needed free babysitting.

He’d seen something in Dion though. The kid had courage, determination. A fierce desire to make something of himself. And to protect his little brother. Eric believed his denial of doing drugs himself. Probably foolish of him. He knew better than most how convincing an addict’s lies could be. But his gut said Dion was telling the truth, and he’d seen no signs of drug use in the hours they’d spent together last night. His eyes had been clear, pupils normal. No telltale sores or track marks. No trembling as if he needed a fix.

But Eric hadn’t gone through his belongings for “product.” He’d trusted him. That had been an oversight on his part. No, he hadn’t had a warrant, but he wouldn’t have been looking for prosecutable evidence either—just assurance that no drugs were being brought into his home last night.

He sighed. If Dion was dealing, good chance he’d been lying about not knowing who’d supplied his mom with the drugs that ended her life. He might have sold them to her himself. Eric prayed that wasn’t the case. Legal ramifications aside, it would be a heavy burden the teen would carry for the rest of his life.

As he reached the outskirts of town, he finally acknowledged that he wouldn’t find Dion today. He’d known when he left Allye’s that spotting him on the streets would be a long shot at this point. The teen had likely found shelter or at least a new hiding place by now. And he was smart enough to know he was being looked for.

Eric executed a three-point turn and headed for the policestation. He had a lot to do. Allye had promised to drop by around four to look through mug shots. If they were lucky, her attacker’s face would be among them. That would make this whole thing much easier. If not, his next order of business would be to contact one of the larger departments in the area and see if they might be willing to lend their forensic artist to work with Allye on a sketch of her attacker.

One way or another, they needed to identify this guy and find him fast. Regardless of whether Allye’s Friday night break-in had actually happened, he had no doubt she would be in real danger once news got out that they were actively investigating the murder she witnessed.

AT FIVE MINUTES TO FOUR,Allye loaded her bags into her car and climbed in beside them. She took a few seconds to catch her breath before inserting the key into the ignition.Click.

Really? She tried turning the key again, but the engine refused to wake. She eyed her dashboard. Checked the headlights. And groaned. She must have left them on yesterday. She did vaguely remember the car dinging a warning as she got out, but she’d reached back in to grab her keys from the ignition and assumed that was the sole problem. Apparently not.

She turned the lights off—not that it mattered at the moment—and tried to think. Bryce and Corina would both be at work. Mom had indicated she had a busy day today. She looked to her neighbors’ driveway. Cornell’s car was here, but if he’d been working nights, she didn’t want to disturb him. And Shannon’s car was gone.

There were other people she could try, but finding someone available could take a while. Defeated, she leaned her head back and dialed Eric’s number.

“Hello, Allye.”

“Hi. Um, I have a little problem.”

His concerned answer came quickly. “Did something else happen?”

“Not a problem like that,” she assured him. “But my car won’t start. I think the battery’s dead. I’m going to have to find someone to help me jump it before I can come to the station. I’m so sorry.”

“No worries. Why don’t I come to you instead? I have a few things to finish up here, but I could head your way in about an hour. I’ll bring the mug shots for you to look at, and I’ll jump your battery while I’m there.”