LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Nah. He has a business card and a story to tell. That’ll make him happy. He’ll brag and our cover will be established.”

      “True.”

      She guessed that was an olive branch from him.

      * * *

      Calvin Sweet finished arranging his latest trophy and stood back in the barn loft to admire it. Three of them now hung from the commercial fish netting he’d acquired on his travels.

      He liked that netting. It was better than the cargo net he’d used before, thinner, made of highly durable plastic. As close as he was going to get to a spiderweb unless he took the time to weave one himself.

      His three trophies, wrapped in clear plastic painter’s drop cloth, hung beautifully like ornaments, visible but slightly hidden in their protective cases. Mysterious, like the life force he had taken from them. Holy now that they’d been saved.

      Backing up, he settled on a bale of hay to admire his handiwork. His private collection, growing steadily, a work of art. He hoped that someday someone other than himself would be able to admire it. It had taken a lot of work and thought. Hunting for something more to his liking than rope cargo net had actually taken quite a while. There were a surprising number of different kinds of fishnets and netting, and he’d had to do research until he could walk into that place on the East Coast and order exactly what he wanted.

      Even the clear plastic drop cloths were problematic, as he had to be careful not to buy too many at any one place. He’d driven many miles buying two or three at a time to make the stack that now stood in a corner of the old tack room. Always paying in cash, too.

      Then there were the plastic, disposable restraints. Easy enough to come by if you ordered them online, a hundred at a time. Figuring out how to avoid leaving that trail had cost him as much time and effort as any other part. He’d been delighted when he’d learned he could buy them in smaller quantities at some sex shops, and for cash. That had meant a lot of traveling, too, and going into places that he was certain were evil.

      But he liked the flexible ties better than tape, which damaged the skin and looked ugly, and better than rope, which could stretch and be wiggled out of. Imagine his surprise when he’d learned that most rope stretched on purpose so it wouldn’t snap.

      But now here he was, his trail concealed, his beautiful web in operation, three offerings to admire. It had been worth it. All of it.

      He had saved these three from miserable futures full of heartbreak, hard work, illness and sin. He had set them free. He had kept them pure.

      And in setting them free he had purified himself, made himself stronger with their unsullied energy. Just like the spider, who could poison her prey and then eat it without suffering from the poison. Receiving only the nutrition.

      His spirit had been fed. Now he honored those who had fed him, acknowledging their gifts.

      It was essential to be grateful for these gifts. Gratitude filled him with a righteous light and reminded him how important his boys were, thus endowing them with the importance they deserved.

      They had served him well.

      He would honor them just as well.

      But then the watch on his wrist beeped, reminding him it was time to get ready. He had a shift on the crisis line tonight, and no way would he miss it.

      There was more than one way he could help others.

      Satisfied, he rose and climbed down the ladder, locked the barn and headed to the house.

      Nights brought him many good things. Tonight he might have the chance to help a mistreated woman. Life was good to him and he was great.

      He needed nothing more.

       Chapter 2

      The town looked as buttoned-down as a military base under a black flag warning, DeeJay thought as they tooled down tree-lined streets beneath the skeletal fingers of leafless branches. Snow berms lined the streets from the plows, and lawns lay beneath an icy blanket of white. Holiday decorations, unlit now, hung from the light poles, awaiting the people who would remember to take them down.

      “Do you know where this house is?” she asked.

      Cade nodded. “Near the downtown. The guy next door is the landlord. We’ll get the key from him.”

      If he was home. But she kept that thought to herself. “There’s no one about.” The winter night had fallen a while ago, but it was still early. “Is it always this quiet?”

      “I doubt it, but like I said, I’ve only been here briefly a few times and that was long ago.”

      “So people are hunkering down because of the kidnappings?”

      “Maybe so. Once we talk to Gage we’ll get a better idea.”

      Her eyes never stopped moving as she surveyed the streets, the town she could see, the emptiness that made it seem more like a ghost town. Lights glowed from inside the houses, but that didn’t change the sense of abandonment. She’d seen frightened towns before and this was a frightened town. Frightened for their young boys. It was enough.

      She itched to get on the job, to catch the scent and start her work. The time between the last two disappearances had been just over two weeks. The current victim had disappeared four days ago. They didn’t have a whole lot of time.

      She’d learned patience as an investigator, however. Impatience could lead to mistakes and oversights. These could not be allowed. She drew a deep breath and let relaxation pour through her. Time. It always took time.

      “Do we have any idea of his cycle?” she asked.

      “The killer? Not sure. He was escalating somewhat before he vanished, and he seems to be escalating again. It’s hard to be sure with only three missing kids, though. You read the report?”

      Of course she had, but it had mostly been a description of events five years earlier. Little enough about the present except that it appeared to be happening again. Since Cade had been in these parts for at least a decade, she couldn’t help wondering if he knew more than was in the report. If so, they were going to have a meeting of minds very soon. If not...well, they were starting on equal footing. “The more frequently he acts, the more likely he’ll slip up.” On the other hand, that put some very real pressure on them to figure out something fast.

      “We’ll find out.” He pulled a left turn onto an even narrower street, this one devoid of pole decorations, although a few houses still sported lights along the eaves. Barnstable Street.

      “There it is.”

      Unmistakable, she thought. It was the only house on the street that was completely dark. Not very big, either, which could be good or bad, depending. Her mind ticked over impressions, cataloguing them for later.

      He stopped the car at the end of a plowed driveway, no heaped snow blocking it. “I’ll get the key.”

      She didn’t answer, just climbed out. He paused, then switched off the ignition and set the brake. She didn’t explain her actions, felt no need to, but she was damned if she was going to start letting him cut her out of anything, however small.

      She was a tall woman, but Cade was even taller. As they mounted the three salted steps side by side, the wind bit at them with frigid teeth. It was freaking cold this evening, like the breath of an advancing ice age. Even with her hood pulled up, the chill found ways to snap at her ears.

      Cade knocked, a courteous knock rather than a police banging, and soon the front door opened to reveal a beautiful and very pregnant young woman. “You must be the Dentons?” she said.

      Cade nodded. “I’m Cade, and this is my...wife, DeeJay.” DeeJay hoped she was the only one who noted that hesitation. To her it sounded too obvious to miss.

      “Come

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