Pastor Wertz said the “Amen” and Susannah pulled away from Luke, physically and emotionally. Al pushed a handkerchief into her hand. “Your mascara’s run.”

Quickly she wiped her face again. “Did I fix it?”

Al tipped her face up. “Yeah. You okay?”

No. “Yeah.” She turned to Luke. “You don’t have to babysit me. I’ll be fine.”

Luke didn’t look like he believed her, but nodded. “I do need to get back. I have an appointment at two. Call if you need me or if you see anyone who looks familiar.” He looked around. “I did want to talk to Kate Davis. Do you see her?”

Susannah didn’t. “She must have left. This had to have been uncomfortable.”

Luke looked at Al. “There are cops everywhere. If you need to, yell.”

Al watched him go, then looked down at her, brows lifted. “He’s very… nice.”

Way too nice for me. “Let’s go back. I haven’t spent any time with Jane Doe today.”

She’d only taken a few steps when a woman stopped in her path. She was tall, blond, and smileless. “Hi,” she said nervously. “You’re Susannah Vartanian, aren’t you?”

Al’s hand closed over her arm protectively. “I am,” Susannah said. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so. I’m Gretchen French.”

The victim Chloe Hathaway said was trying to organize a press conference. How could she have found out so quickly? “What can I do for you, Miss French?”

“I met your brother Daniel a few days ago. I heard he was shot by Randy Mansfield.”

The knot in her chest loosened. “He was, but he’ll be all right.”

Gretchen smiled, but it looked like it cost her. “I just wanted to ask you to thank him for me. He and Talia Scott made a very difficult time more bearable. He’s a kind man.”

Susannah nodded. “I’ll tell him.”

“It’s nice of you to come today, to pay your respects to Sheila in Daniel’s place.”

Susannah felt Al’s grip tighten, bolstering her. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then you knew Sheila?”

“No.” Just say it. Say it. Say it and it will be easier the second time.

Gretchen’s brows crunched. “Then why are you here?”

Susannah drew a breath. “For the same reason you are.” She let the breath out quietly. “I was a victim, too.”

Gretchen’s mouth dropped open. “But… I…” She stared. “I had no idea.”

“I didn’t know about you either, or any of the others. Not until Daniel told me on Thursday. I thought I was the only one.”

“So did I. Oh God.” Gretchen took a steadying breath. “We all did.”

“I gave my statement to ASA Hathaway today,” Susannah said. “I’ll be testifying.”

Gretchen was still stunned. “It will be difficult.”

Difficult. She was beginning to hate that word. “It will be hell for us all.”

“I suppose you know that better than any of us. I read that you’re a prosecutor now.”

“Now,” Susannah said, and Al squeezed her arm again. But maybe not later. Al was indeed correct that the defense would exploit her status as a victim. But she’d stand with the others now and cross each bridge as she got there. “Miss Hathaway said you’re organizing a press conference. If you tell me when and where, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, please. I’ll give you my card. Call me when the arrangements are made.” She’d bowed her head to search her purse when a sharp crack split the air.

In an instant Susannah was thrown to the ground, her breath leaving her in a rush as Al landed on top of her and all hell broke loose in the cemetery. Around her people screamed and ran as police mobilized to bring order to the crowd.

Dazed, Susannah lifted her head, her gaze locking onto a woman who stood still amid all the frenzied movement around her. She was dressed in black, from her veiled hat to the hem of her old-fashioned dress to the tips of her gloved fingers. The black lace of the veil fell below her chin, covering her face, but somehow Susannah knew the woman was staring. At me.

And Susannah stared back, momentarily mesmerized.

Red lips. She has red, red lips. The color showed through the black lace, creating a startling effect. And then the woman slipped into the crowd and was gone.

“Are you all right?” Al shouted over the panicked screams.

“I’m fine.”

“Stay down another few- Oh, shit.” Al leaped up and Susannah pushed herself to her knees as he lowered Gretchen French to the ground. “She’s hit.”

Twenty uniformed police stormed the area, and Susannah found herself stemming blood flow from a gunshot wound for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. Gretchen was conscious, but pale and shaken. The bullet had pierced the fleshy part of her arm and blood was sullenly oozing from the wound.

“Stay put,” Susannah said. “Just don’t move.” She balled up Al’s handkerchief and pressed it to Gretchen’s arm. “Al, get me…” She looked up to find Al’s horrified gaze fixed straight ahead, and her heart stumbled to a stop. “Oh, hell. Oh, no.”

Kate Davis lay on the ground between two tombstones, staring skyward, her white shirt already red with blood. One arm lay flung outward, a gun still clutched in her hand.

Two officers were holstering their weapons. Susannah continued to stare, shocked. She hadn’t heard the shot. But Kate Davis was dead.

Al looked down, stunned. “She shot Gretchen French.”

“Step aside, please.” Paramedics were pushing her out of the way, again for the second time in twenty-four hours. She stood up, her legs like rubber.

“Al…”

His arms came around her, keeping her from crumpling to the ground again as her knees buckled. He shielded her with his body as cameras began to flash. “Just come with me.” He was breathing hard. “Susannah, this is one hell of a fucked-up town.”

“Yeah,” Susannah said breathlessly. “I know.”

Tanner slowed the car and Bobby slid into the passenger seat. “Drive.”

He obeyed and in ten seconds they’d cleared the cemetery gates. “Is it done?”

“Of course.” And exactly as planned.

“Did anyone recognize you?”

“No.”

Tanner grimaced as Bobby removed the veiled hat. “That hat is hideous, but the lipstick is even worse.” He passed his handkerchief across the car. “Clean your face.”

“Sheila always wore this color. I thought it was a nice touch.”

Tanner rolled his eyes as Bobby wiped at the lipstick. “Where’s your gun?”

“I dropped the one I used on Rocky in the grass, just like I’d planned. The other one is still in my pocket.” Bobby fingered the small hole in the pocket’s fabric. “All that training with Charles finally paid off. Two targets hit, using both hands. Ballistics will have a field day doing the matchups.”

“So Susannah Vartanian is dead, too?”

“Of course not.”

Tanner’s head jerked, his frown fierce. “You said it was done. You missed?”

Bobby frowned back. “I don’t miss. If I’d meant to hit Susannah, I would have. I never intended to kill her that painlessly. If Charles can play with her a little, so can I.”

“So who else did you shoot?”

“I have no idea,” Bobby said cheerfully. “Just a woman unlucky enough to be standing next to Susannah at the time.” A laugh bubbled out. “I haven’t felt like this in… well, I don’t remember the last time. Maybe not since I killed that sonofabitch Lyle.”

“Your father had it coming,” Tanner said decisively.

He wasn’t my father. “So did Rocky. Let’s get back to Ridgefield now. We have some things to do before you leave for Savannah.”

Tanner tensed. “Get down. Police car at twelve o’clock.”

Bobby twisted, ducking below the dash. “I didn’t see any police cars.”

“It was unmarked, but it’s gone now. Let’s get out of here.”

Dutton, Saturday, February 3, 12:05 p.m.

Luke ran from his car, heart pounding. Shots fired, Dutton Cemetery. As soon as he’d heard the words on his radio, he’d U-turned and raced back. Susannah was sitting in the passenger seat of her rental car, parked in on all sides. Two state troopers were managing crowd control while an angry Al Landers paced the length of the car.