LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Then we have to interview every last person in this town, knock on every door, search every closet, basement and attic until we find something.”

      “We can’t do that. People have rights.”

      Andrei pushed to his feet so fast, his chair fell over backward. “What about Sofia’s rights? Or Angela’s or Cora’s? They had the right to live and he took that right away from them.”

      “You know the law. We can’t search houses without probable cause and a search warrant.”

      “To hell with search warrants. We have a killer to catch before he does it again.” Andrei’s lips pressed together and he breathed fast, exhaling through his nose. He wouldn’t let the bastard kill again—he couldn’t. “We have to be missing something. Some small trace of evidence that will lead us to the suspect.”

      “This is his fourth victim, he has to slip up sometime.”

      As the last statement left the captain’s mouth, the phone on Andrei’s desk rang. Could he dare to hope it was a sign?

      Andrei lifted the phone. “Lagios.”

      “Andrei, this is Gordon Fennell, I think I might have found something.”

      “Are you done with the autopsy, already?” Andrei glanced up at Swanson. “Wait. I have the captain here. Let me put you on speakerphone.” He punched the button and laid the receiver on its rest. “Go ahead.”

      “First of all, the victim has the same markings as the others. The same seashell necklace strung together on generic fishing line. She’s wearing a wedding dress that could have been bought in a resale shop anywhere in Maine.”

      Tension built behind Andrei’s temples as the medical examiner listed what Andrei already knew. He resisted the urge to tell the man to cut to the chase.

      “Everything points to the same attacker.”

      “What is it you found?” the captain asked.

      Andrei held his breath, hoping this would be the big break they were looking for.

      “A trace of a chemical found in her bloodstream. I retested blood from the other three victims and found it in their blood as well.”

      “What is it?”

      “From what I could tell, it’s a chemical that comes from the henbane plant, not something you find around these parts on a regular basis. In some places it’s illegal to grow.”

      Andrei leaned toward the speakerphone. “What does it do?”

      “In smaller doses, it’s considered a painkiller or hallucinogen. In larger doses, it’ll kill. Although there wasn’t enough concentration in their blood to kill them, it would certainly have made them very high, docile and malleable.”

      Andrei sat back, his mind wrapping around this new information. “Where would someone get this drug?”

      The medical examiner paused before answering. “They don’t sell it in the drugstore, that’s for sure. And you can’t just order it online. Someone would have to grow the plant itself. Someone with an herb garden, possibly in a greenhouse.”

      Silence stretched over a full minute before Gordon broke the tension. “That’s all the new information I have. I still have a few more things to check. Hope it helps.”

      “Thanks, Gordon. It helps.” The captain hit the off button and stared down at the phone for several long moments. “Who has a greenhouse or herb garden in this area?”

      Andrei’s mind wrapped around the knowledge that an herb was used in drugging the young women. The only person he knew who might understand the use of herbs was the woman he’d met this morning beside the cliff. “How long has Jocelyne Baker been back in town?”

      Captain Swanson shook his head. “Not long enough to have committed the first three murders. Besides, she’s in good shape, but she’s not strong enough to strangle a full grown young woman, drugged or not.”

      “Yeah, besides, she’s pregnant.” He glanced up at the captain. “Where’s the husband?”

      “She told me that she came back alone. The father of her child isn’t part of her picture. Whatever that means.”

      So she wasn’t married. A swell of relief filled Andrei’s conscience, and he quickly downplayed it. Not that he was interested in the strong-willed Jocelyne Baker. Although it was sad to think she’d be faced with raising her child alone.

      Swanson tapped a finger to his chin. “Miss Baker might be a good source to consult over the use of this herb, henbane. Being a holistic healer, she’d have a good understanding of the chemical properties of natural substances.”

      Andrei stood and stretched the kinks out of his back. “I’ll drop by the inn tomorrow and see if she knows anything. Maybe she can point to the nearest greenhouse or herb garden. After all, she’ll be looking for a new source of the herbs she uses in her business.”

      Jocelyne Baker might be strong-willed, but Andrei couldn’t see her as a murderer. With nothing else to go on, he needed a straw to grasp and she was his straw. He had to find the murderer for his sister. If getting close to Jocelyne helped him in his search, then he’d stick to her like duct tape.

      “I was by there earlier to get her statement and that mastic gum, so be forewarned she might be leery of another cop snooping around.” He patted his belly. “So far the stuff she gave me seems to be working. My stomach doesn’t hurt nearly as bad.”

      Andrei’s lips twitched. The woman knew her stuff and she knew her mind. She’d given as good as she got when he’d held her against her will by the cliff. She sure as hell wouldn’t make it easy on him if he came around asking more questions. He’d have to come up with some way of making her want to help him. Make it sound like her idea. He’d have to turn on the Lagios killer charm.

      The captain turned toward the door, stopped and glanced back. “While you’re at it, check out her mother.”

      Andrei glanced up from plotting the strategy he’d use on the lovely Jocelyne, suddenly anxious to get started. “Isn’t she the one everyone thinks is a witch?”

      “Yeah.” The captain’s eyes narrowed. “She might just be crazy enough to be in cahoots with the killer.”

      Chapter Three

      A restless night’s sleep did nothing to refresh Jocelyne’s mind or body. Her dreams had been full of the overwhelming sense of fear. Dark clouds churned the sky and some unknown hand stirred the sea into a slate-gray froth of swells, the waves slapping against the rocky shoreline.

      In the relative safety of her childhood home, a dark stranger lurked in the shadows of the Cliffside Inn, waiting to strangle her and toss her into the sea. She’d been wearing the white skirt she’d worn yesterday, almost like the one the dead girl in the water had been wearing. Two times in the middle of the night, she’d awoken drenched in sweat as if she’d been running. The baby kicked in protest, recognizing its mother’s distress. Exhausted and dispirited from lack of sleep, Jocelyne gave up near dawn and climbed out of bed. She went to her computer, answering e-mails and responding to orders for her herbal remedies.

      A couple hours later, the smell of bacon, eggs and homemade biscuits drifted through to her upstairs bedroom, reminding her of her need to nourish the growing child in her belly. Despite her intent to remain aloof from other boarders and guests of the inn, Jocelyne couldn’t resist the breakfast call and descended to the bottom floor.

      In the kitchen, with an apron tied around her gently rounded figure, her long, fading red hair neatly twisted into a knot on top of her head, Hazel Baker scrambled eggs in a large skillet. “Oh, good, you’re awake. Could you hand me that bowl on the counter over there?”

      Jocelyne settled into the routine she’d grown up with, helping her mother cater to the guests that made living in

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