Feeling somewhat deflated after her first full day back with Homicide, Sami grabbed a cold Corona, pinched in a wedge of lime, and sat on the sofa. Neither Katie Mitchell—the first victim’s best friend—nor anyone working at Tony’s Bar & Grill could offer a single shred of new evidence to help with the investigation. Sami knew going in that tracking down the serial killer would be a formidable challenge, but she hoped she’d have more to go on than the few bits and pieces of information.

Josephine walked into the living room and sat next to Sami.

“How you feeling, Mom?”

“So-so.”

“What’s bothering you?”

Josephine shook her head. “No matter how much I sleep, I’m still exhausted.”

“Doctor Templeton told us that you’d feel this way for a few months.” Sami took a long swig of her beer. “Where are Emily and Angelina?”

“They walked down to the Tot Lot.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?”

“Too tired.”

“No matter how tired you feel, you have to walk at least to the corner and back every day. That’s the only way you’re going to get your strength back.”

“I lose my breath after walking only half a block.”

“Do you feel any chest pain?”

“No. Just out of breath.”

“If you want to feel better, you have to force yourself to walk.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Josephine squeezed Sami’s leg. “Have you thought about going to church with me on Sunday like I asked?”

With all that had been going on, Sami had forgotten about her mother’s request. But she felt forced to lie. “Been thinking about it.”

“And?”

Born and raised Catholic, Sami had wandered away from the church and religion shortly after she divorced. Hoping to avoid any serious discussions, when asked about her religious beliefs, she would kiddingly say that she was a recovering Catholic.

“Still thinking about it, Mom.”

“Well, don’t think too long. God is not all that patient.”

Sami believed in God, or more accurately, a Supreme Being or Higher Power, but she had never been able to clearly define Him, or feel a strong connection. No matter how hard she tried, Sami just couldn’t accept the fact that a righteous, all-powerful God could allow so much pain and suffering in the world. As a homicide investigator, exposed to evil deeds beyond imagination, her feelings were skewed. Unlike the average citizen, she’d seen more than her share of death—innocent children strangled and burned and tortured unmercifully, shootings, stabbings, victims beaten beyond recognition. How could a just God let so much evil exist?

“If you don’t want to go to church, that’s fine,” Josephine said. “But at least drop me off and pick me up.”

“Of course.” Sami realized that her mother’s sudden urge to reunite with God was driven by her recent surgery and the very real possibility that her life could be over in an instant. “I’m not so sure I’ll join you though.”

“You’ve been angry with God for a long time,” Josephine said. “Ever since He took your father. It’s time to make peace before it’s too late.”

Julian and Nicole had just finished the Chinese takeout and a bottle of Jordan Cabernet, and were settled into the cushy leather sofa. The critics of Wine Spectator magazine would turn up their noses at such an incompatible food and wine combo, but Jordan was Julian’s favorite red, so he could easily drink it with popcorn.

“Tell me about this cabin in Big Bear,” Nicole said.

Julian had feared she wouldn’t let it rest. “Considering that we’re never going to buy it, I’d rather not.”

“Would you just stop being so difficult and please tell me about the fucking cabin?”

There were few things about Nicole that Julian hated more than her sharp tongue.

“It’s about two hundred feet from the lake, has three bedrooms, two baths, and a fireplace. And it’s a hundred thousand dollars more than we can afford.”

“Why did you even look at it in the first place? Did you really think you’d have that much wiggle room in the price?”

Knowing Nicole, he had anticipated that his little white lie would turn into a grand inquisition. “Look, Nicole, I wanted to surprise you and it just didn’t work out. It seems that the only thank you I get is you breaking my balls. Can we just drop it?”

“You can be such an asshole sometimes.” She stood up, but Julian grabbed her arm. “Let go of me.”

“I’m not finished yet,” he almost shouted.

“Well, I am.” She twisted her forearm and broke free of his grip. “I’m going to bed. Why don’t you sleep in the spare bedroom tonight.”

“Are you serious?”

“Fucking totally.”

At that particular moment in time, as he watched his wife disappear up the stairway, it became glaringly apparent to him that sometimes he actually hated Nicole. Both high-strung, they had many shouting matches during their marriage, some standing toe to toe. But never had he felt as much animosity toward her as he did right now. She was his wife and the mother of his children. But something in this marriage had to change. Someone had to give in. And he’d be damned if it was him.

He had his choice of two upstairs bedrooms, but he didn’t even want to hear her breathing tonight. He grabbed a set of sheets and a cotton blanket from the linen closet, haphazardly made up the sofa, kicked off his shoes, and eased into bed. He closed his eyes and couldn’t wait for morning. Tomorrow wouldn’t come soon enough.