Cathy couldn’t ever remember feeling so damn good about doing something so bad. She had talked back to her mother, no doubt a sin that would condemn her to eternal hellfire. And she didn’t care. She had done what she had once believed would be impossible-she had stood up to her mother and survived. Not only had she survived, but she had been set free from a lifetime of knowing she would never live up to Elaine Nelson’s expectations.

As she strolled down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace, her mind savoring the preceding moments of personal glory, she didn’t pay any attention to the passing vehicles on the street.

“Running away from home?” a voice called out to her.

As she stopped and turned toward the sound of the voice, her breath caught in her throat when she saw that Jack Perdue had pulled his car over to the curb and had rolled down the passenger window.

“I might be,” she told him. “Got any suggestions where I should go?”

He slid across the seat, opened the door and said, “Yeah. Run away with me.”

“Okay.” Without hesitation, she got in the car with Jack.

He was right in her face; her shoulder pressed against his chest. They stared at each other for a full minute, one of the longest minutes of Cathy’s life. And then he slid back across the seat to the driver’s side, and she slammed the door shut.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

He grinned. “How about an early dinner somewhere?”

“Where?”

“Is the Catfish Shack still in business?”

“As far as I know. I haven’t been there in years.” Not since the last time he had taken her there.

The Catfish Shack was a seen-better-days restaurant and bar down by the river. The proprietor had a reputation for serving the best catfish and hush puppies in six counties. The music was loud, the beer flowed like water and all the food was to die for. And better yet, Cathy was relatively sure none of her churchgoing friends would be there. The place was a little too lively for their tastes. And much too sinful.

She had been there only once, years ago, on a date with Jack. She had been seventeen and madly in love.

Jack glanced over his shoulder, back at Lorie’s house. “Do you need to tell anyone where you’re going?”

She shook her head.

“You really are running away, aren’t you?”

“Temporarily.”

“Want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No, not really. I’d rather not think about what happened today or a year ago or eighteen months ago. I’d like to forget about all of it, just for a little while.”

“I’ll see what I can do to give you what you want.”

John Earl took his wife’s hands and held them in his. He wasn’t looking forward to telling her the news that was spreading around town like a deadly wildfire. But she had to be told. The local authorities believed there was a serial killer targeting clergymen. If the man found dead in the park today was indeed Father Brian Myers, he would be the killer’s third victim.

“What is it?” Ruth Ann asked. “I can tell by your expression that this isn’t going to be good news.”

He loved Ruth Ann for so many reasons, not the least of which was her strength and resilience. As a team, they had weathered many of life’s storms together. His wife was indeed his helpmate. He could not imagine his life without her, and he knew she felt the same about him. They were friends, life partners and lovers.

“There was a man’s body found this morning in Spring Creek Park,” John Earl said. “The police believe it was murder.”

“Oh, how terrible. It wasn’t someone we know, was it?”

He shook his head. “No.”

She studied him intently. “There’s more to it than just a body being found, isn’t there?”

Tightening his hold on her hands, he nodded. “The victim has not been identified yet, but they believe he was a Catholic priest from Huntsville.”

Ruth Ann drew in a startled breath.

“The man burned to death. They think he was set on fire.”

Emotion swelled in her chest and rose to lodge in her throat.

“There is a good chance that someone out there is targeting clergymen,” John Earl said.

She swallowed hard. “First Mark Cantrell and then that minister from Athens and now…”

“I don’t want you to worry about me. I know that after Mark was killed, you were concerned, and when the second clergyman was killed, your fears only increased. I know how both deaths brought back some painful memories for you and your mother.”

“I think maybe we should consider moving out of state.” Ruth Ann pulled away from him. “Perhaps it’s time for you to do some mission work. We could leave the girls here with Mother, and you and I could spend six months or a year-”

“We can’t just pull up stakes and leave,” he reminded her. “I would have to apply for any type of transfer, and it could take months or longer for me to be reassigned. Besides that, both Charity and Felicity are at an age when they need our guidance more than ever before. And your mother isn’t in good health. She could never cope with two teenagers.”

Ruth Ann wrung her hands together. “I know. I know. It’s just…” She slipped into John Earl’s open arms. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

He clasped her chin and lifted her face to his. Then he kissed her forehead. “You’re not going to lose me.”

When she looked into his eyes so pleadingly, he lowered his head and took her mouth with a hunger that bound him to her as surely as their marriage vows did. She clung to him with a desperation that he felt all the way to his bones. He understood. Not only was she battling her fears for him, but the memories of a long-ago night when her parents’ house had burned to the ground. The night her father had died, consumed by the blaze that the fire marshal had later ruled arson.

“You need to tell your mother,” John Earl said as he eased out of her tenacious hold. “While you’re doing that, I’ll speak to the girls and do my best to allay any fears they might have.”

Their gazes locked, each aware of what the other was thinking. In a marriage such as theirs, when the love and commitment were both strong, words were often unnecessary.

John Earl watched his wife as she walked out of his study, a room she had personally decorated for him. He was a very lucky man to have such a devoted wife. Years ago, in the early days of their marriage, he had been uncertain of her love, but never of her devotion. As the years went by, he had come to trust the love she professed for him and now knew beyond any doubt that she was as much in love with him as he was with her.

“Help me, dear Lord, to say whatever my daughters need to hear. I’ve done all within my power to protect them from the ugliness of this world. I need Your continued guidance to lead them along the path of righteousness.”

“Daddy?” Charity called from the open doorway.

He forced a confident, all-is-well smile and motioned to her, inviting her to enter. She came toward him, her younger sister directly behind her. His daughters were quite different in appearance and personality. Although Charity was as pretty as her mother, with her dark hair and eyes, she shied away from makeup and fashionable clothes. She possessed Ruth Ann’s gentle nature and was their studious, conscientious child, the one who strived so hard to please. On the other hand, Felicity had his fairer coloring, his gray eyes and wide mouth, and although not quite as pretty as her older sister, she was far more flamboyant. She kept her hair dyed that hideous black, wore violet contacts and bore the most vulgar tattoos that he had reluctantly agreed for her to get, as proudly as if they were badges of honor. She was his little rebel.

John Earl indicated the overstuffed settee. “Sit down, please. I need to talk to both of you.”

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” Felicity said.