IF IT hadn’t been so late, Maggie would have offered to take Gwen out for dinner. However, she had spent too much time at the hospital making sure Tess was comfortable and that Tully had no permanent damage to his leg.

Though she should have been completely exhausted, she felt like celebrating. She discovered a Chinese place that was still open on the north side of Newburgh Heights. She could finally stop by a restaurant again without worrying the waitress would end up in a Dumpster.

Maggie arrived home to find Gwen and Harvey curled up in the recliner watching the TV. The cartons reminded her once again of the carton Stucky had stolen, now gone forever, literally up in flames. The photo album had contained the only pictures she had possessed of her father. She didn’t want to think about it right now.

“How are you?” asked Gwen. “Honestly?”

“Honestly? I’m fine.”

Gwen frowned at her as though that was too easy an answer.

“I came close to getting Tully and myself killed,” she said, now serious. “I panicked with the fire. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. But you know what?” She smiled. “I survived. And I got us out of there.”

“Very good. Sounds like you passed some major personal test.”

Harvey shoved his nose under Maggie’s arm, insisting on another egg roll. She gave him a half-eaten roll and patted his back.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to feed dogs egg rolls, Maggie.”

“And how would I know that? Is there a book with all these rules?”

“I’m sure there are several. I’ll pick one up for you.”

“Might not be a bad idea since it looks like Harvey and I are going to be permanent roommates.”

“Does that mean you were right about his owner?”

“Tess told us there was another woman. A woman named Rachel who’s dead in a pit somewhere on the property. Of course we don’t know yet, but I feel certain it’s Rachel Endicott.” She noticed Gwen’s grimace. “They’ll continue to search for her tomorrow. Tess said there were other bodies, bones, skulls. Stucky and Harding may have been using this property for years.”

“What do you suppose Harding had planned for me?”

“Don’t, Gwen,” Maggie snapped at her. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to think about it, okay?”

“I suppose it makes sense that the two of them would have eventually moved on to women you knew more intimately. Friends, relatives…oh—” she smiled “—that reminds me. You had a phone call earlier. That hunky ex-quarterback from Nebraska.”

“Nick?”

“What, you know more than one hunky ex-quarterback?”

“Did he want me to call him back?”

“Actually, he said he was headed for the airport. I took a message.” Gwen pulled herself up off the floor and found the note she had left on the desk. She squinted at it as though someone else had written it. “He said his dad had a heart attack.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Now Maggie wished she had talked to him. “Is he going to be okay? He’s not dead, is he?”

“No, but I think Nick said they were talking about surgery as soon as possible.” Gwen scrunched up her face as she continued to decipher her notes.

“This is something that I didn’t understand. He said his dad had received a letter, and that’s what they think may have caused the heart attack. But unless I’m mistaken, I could swear Nick said the letter was from South America.”

Maggie felt sick to her stomach. Had Father Michael Keller sent Antonio Morrelli some sort of confession? Maggie seemed to be the only one who believed the charismatic young priest was the one who had killed four boys in Platte City, Nebraska. But he had left the country before she had been able to prove it. The last she knew, he was still in South America.

“That’s it,” Gwen said. “Does any of that makes sense to you?”

The phone startled both of them.

“Maybe this is Nick.” Maggie untangled herself out of her cross-legged position and grabbed the phone. “Maggie O’Dell.”

“Agent O’Dell. It’s Assistant Director Cunningham.”

She checked her watch. It was late, and she had just seen him at the hospital a couple of hours ago.

“Is Tully okay?” It was the first thing that came to mind.

“He’s fine. I’m with Dr. Holmes. He was good enough to do the autopsies tonight. There’s a problem.” Cunningham didn’t waste any time.

“What kind of problem?” Maggie prepared herself, leaning against the desk and gripping the phone.

“Walker Harding died of a gunshot wound to the back of his head. Not only that, but his organs are in an extremely advanced state of decomposition. Dr. Holmes is guessing he’s been dead for several weeks.”

“Several weeks? That’s impossible. We found his fingerprints at three of the crime scenes.”

“I think we might have an explanation for that. Several of his fingers are missing, cut off. I’m guessing Stucky did it. Preserved them and used them at the crime scenes to throw us off.”

“But Gwen has had two sessions with Harding.” She glanced at Gwen and her friend’s face showed concern and alarm.

“Dr. Patterson has never seen Albert Stucky,” Cunningham said, keeping his cool, professional tone. “If we ask her to describe the man she had the sessions with, I’m guessing she’ll describe Stucky. There was an uncanny resemblance between the two men. Stucky must have been using Harding’s identity for some time now. That probably explains the airline ticket in Harding’s name.”

“Jesus.” It all made sense. She wasn’t sure she had completely believed Stucky would allow anyone, even Harding, in on his game. “So he had the perfect disguise and the perfect hiding place.”

“There’s more, Agent O’Dell. The other body has been dead for several weeks, too, and it’s not Albert Stucky.”

Maggie sat down before her knees gave out from under her. “No, this can’t be happening. He can’t have escaped again.”

“We’re not sure who it is. Maybe a friend or caretaker of Harding’s. Harding was definitely blind. Dr. Holmes says both his retinas were detached, and there were no signs of diabetes.”

Maggie was barely listening anymore. She could hardly hear him over the pounding of her heart as she glanced frantically around the room. She noticed Harvey sniffing at the back door, now agitated. Where the hell had she left her Smith & Wesson?

“I’ve sent several agents back to watch your house,” Cunningham said as if that would be enough. “I suggest you not leave tonight. Stay put. If he comes after you, we’ll be ready.”

She met Gwen’s questioning eyes. The fear began invading Maggie’s system like cold liquid injected into her veins.

“Stucky wouldn’t dare come after me again.”