But of course they remembered. Josh had made sure they knew exactly what he could do. Because Josh knew that made the terror that much worse.

He waited until the Lutzes were gone before finding Sandra. "Follow them," he said through his teeth. "I want to know how many squares of toilet paper they use to wipe their asses until we find Jenna and Kelly." He looked around, irritably. "Where's Harry? I haven't seen him all day."

Nancy slid her arm around his waist. "He called a few hours ago. He's got a lead on the Richards man, the dead farmer who supposedly bought the ketamine. Harry said he'd call again when he had something. Steven, I want you to go home. Brad's called for you twice. Your kids need you at home." She hugged him to her. "Have courage, Steven. It will be all right. I know it."

Steven dragged his palms down his face, feeling numb. Have courage, Steven. "She said that to me, the first day we met. Jenna did."

Nancy hugged him again and shoved him toward the door. "Then listen to her, Steven."

Friday, October 14, 10:00 P.M.

Helen met him with open arms. Nicky stood in the foyer, stoic and wise. Mike stood behind him, hands on Nicky's shoulders, Nicky's red hair bright against the black of Mike's robes. Matt's eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. Brad stood beside him, his arm around Mart's shoulders.

No one said a word until Nicky spoke up, his little boy voice strong. "She'll come home, Daddy," he said. "You'll bring her home just like you brought me home."

Matt stifled a sob that he tried to hide.

Steven's throat closed. He dropped his chin to his chest, clenched his eyes shut, and battled to keep it all inside just a little longer. Just until he got alone, away from the boys, where they couldn't see him cry. He'd nearly shoved it all back down when two little arms wrapped around his waist and hugged tight. He opened his eyes to see Nicky's red head burrowed into his stomach. His chest heaved as his breath came shuddering out. He brushed his hands over Nicky's hair, then hoisted his little boy into his arms and hugged him with a ferocity that made Nicky protest.

"Daddy."

Steven loosened his hold, burying his face in Nicky's shoulder. "Sorry, buddy."

Nicky patted his back. "It's okay."

Mike stepped forward and took Nicky from his arms. "I think your dad needs some space, boys," he said, shepherding everyone into the kitchen. "Let's fix him some dinner."

Only Brad remained, looking at him with serious eyes. Steven cleared his throat, refusing to be embarrassed. "Nancy said you've been trying to reach me all day. I'm sorry I didn't call you back."

Brad shook his head. "It's okay, Dad. I didn't know what was happening. I never would have bothered you if I'd known."

Steven made his mouth curve. "Well, now I'm home. So tell me what's on your mind."

Brad didn't smile back. "Can we go in your office? There's something I need to say."

So they went, Steven's stomach heavy as lead. What next? What now?

Brad shut the door and leaned back against it. "I'm only going to tell you now because I know Dr. Marshall would want me to. I went to see her today."

Steven's eyes widened. "Why?"

"To try to get her to come back to you. To show her this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper Steven instantly recognized. His eyes shot up to Brad's.

"When did you find it?" he asked quietly.

Brad shrugged. "Labor Day. I was looking in the top drawer of your bureau for a picture of all of us together because I wanted to have it made into a calendar for Grandma. Then I found this."

Steven took the ragged paper and stared at it for a moment. "You blamed me."

"For lying to me," Brad said. "And for making her leave," he added, looking away.

"You thought she'd left because I cheated?"

Brad shrugged. "I didn't know. I guess it was easier to blame you because you were here. And you hadn't told the truth from the beginning."

"You want the truth now?" Steven said and Brad met his eyes and nodded. "I was never unfaithful to your mother. In the thirteen years we were married I never touched another woman."

Brad looked up. "I believe you."

Steven exhaled, relieved. "Your mother wasn't happy,

Brad. So she decided to leave. I had no idea it was coming to that."

"What would you have done if you'd known?"

"I honestly don't know, Brad. I don't even know if there's anything I could have done. But I don't regret not telling you the truth. I would have done anything to spare you this pain."

"So you took it all on yourself."

"I did."

"Did you think we might have been able to help, Dad?" Brad asked, his voice wavering. "Did you think maybe we could have supported you through it?"

"No," Steven answered truthfully. "I didn't. I didn't want to hurt you."

"It hurt more knowing you didn't trust me." He looked away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay, son. I know I should have trusted Jenna, too, but I didn't and now she's gone."

"She'll be back, Dad. I know it." Brad hesitated, then put his hand on Steven's shoulder. "And when you get her back, she'll come back to you."

Steven swallowed, slipped his hand in his pocket, and fingered Adam Llewellyn's ring, hoping against hope his son was right on both counts. "You seem sure."

Brad's expression became intense. "She cares about you. Anybody that has eyes can see it. You hurt me, too, by not trusting me about Mom, but here I am. I came back. Because… because I love you, Dad. She'll be back, just like I came back."

Steven struggled, then gave up and let the emotion come, choking on a sob when Brad's arms circled him, holding him, patting his back as the tears came. "I'm so afraid," Steven whispered. "I'm so afraid he'll hurt her. That he'll kill her like all the others."

Brad held on. "You'll get her back, Dad. We have to believe that."

Steven sucked in a deep breath and straightened, pulling his palms over his face to dry his eyes. "We have to have courage."

Friday, October 14, 11:30 P.M.

He'd cut her hair.

She was still weak from the last round of dreams, populated by hundreds of hissing, striking snakes. She woke, screaming and gasping, but still tied up. It wasn't until she'd caught her breath and come back down to earth that she realized her hair was gone.

Her hair was gone. All but a quarter inch he'd left all around. As her vision focused, he'd shown her the razor he'd use to finish the job, to make her smoothly bald. But now he was… playing with her hair.

Jenna watched as Josh laid her hair out on his worktable and braided it. Almost lovingly.

"Why, Josh?" she asked from the floor, trying to sound as teacherlike, as authoritarian as she was able. "Why do you take our hair?"

Josh looked over and shrugged. "It's a little embarrassing, actually. Kind of a Freudian thing."

Jenna had to fight not to show the revulsion she felt. "You like your mother's hair?"

"Oh, yes. My mother has absolutely beautiful hair. I've heard my father tell her that it's her best feature. She used to brush it every night. One hundred strokes." He ran his hand over the braid he'd created from Jenna's hair. "I used to love to watch her braid her hair. That's what I first liked about you, in fact. Your hair. I wished I could braid it, sitting there in your class. I'd planned to brush it and braid it when I finally got you."

"When you finally got me," Jenna repeated. "But now you've got me and you cut my hair."

He frowned at her. "That's your doing, not mine. I'd planned to take you away after graduation, to make you happy. You'd earned it. You weren't like the others. But then you spent the night with Thatcher," he said bitterly, "and I knew you were no better than any of these others, willing to crawl into a car with a man they barely know. So you lose your hair, Miss Marshall. Just like you'll lose your life." He took Jenna's braid and mounted it under her picture. "There. But I get ahead of myself. I'm not supposed to mount the hair until I've finished and I'm behind schedule." He turned with a grin. "It's Friday night, Miss Marshall. Time for a show."