He had learned to know and respect his own strength.

"Hush, Audrey," he said gently.

Her eyes grew huge and her naked body jerked. He waited until he was certain she understood, then removed his hand.

She gasped for air and coughed.

"Now, look what you've made me do," he scolded. "I've bruised your throat. So sorry, sweetheart."

She had to try twice before she could whisper. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-I didn't mean to be bad."

"I know you didn't. Hush, now. Be still while I clean you up."

Jordan met them at Venture Florist and was just getting out of his cruiser when they pulled up. "I checked with the deputies who followed up on those flowers Marie Goode found at her door," he told them. "Since two of our local grocery stores sell flowers in bunches like that, and those seemed the most anonymous places to buy flowers, the guys started there. And they found virtually identical arrangements at both stores, with cards identical to the one with the flowers. None of the clerks they've talked to so far remembers ringing up roses anytime in the last few days."

"And there were no prints on the card," Marc said. He looked at Paris, brows raised.

"All I can tell you is what I saw. I'm pretty sure this is the florist, but I'll know for sure once I'm inside. There was an odd arrangement to the right of the register, obviously for Halloween. I hope," she added as they stepped inside.

Dani could see what her sister meant. The small florist shop, filled to bursting with real and silk arrangements and various stuffed animals and vases and other accessories, looked perfectly normal and innocuous.

Except for the tasteful display to the right of the register, which contained, along with bright orange flowers, grinning skulls and black-widow spiders.

"This is the place," Paris said.

Miss Patty, who had owned the shop for as long as anybody could remember, emerged from the back room to greet them. "May I help-Why, hello, Sheriff. What can I do for you?" Her clear blue eyes, the single memorable feature in a face as softly wrinkled as old tissue paper, moved alertly from face to face, and she added, "Oh, dear. I expect it's about the murders, then?"

Feeling rather absurdly as though he were talking back to his grammar-school teacher, Marc said, "Miss Patty, you aren't supposed to know about the murders."

"Heavens, Sheriff, everybody knows about them."

Jordan asked, "Then how come nobody's talking?"

Miss Patty smiled at him. "Everybody's talking, Deputy," she said gently. "Just not to you."

"Or to the media?" Marc asked intently.

"Of course not to them. Out of respect to the families. And then, of course, nobody wants reporters and TV crews showing up around here. That wouldn't help you to solve the murders, and it surely would make our lives harder. Now," she continued briskly, "how can I help you?"

"Miss Patty, do you remember selling a dozen roses to-"

Dani.

Once again, she was aware of a stillness inside her, a waiting, a listening. To him. To his voice.

They can't help you. They can't protect you. He can't protect you. Because you're going to come to me. just like in your dream. It's inevitable. You belong to me, Dani.

"-so I'm afraid I really can't help you, Sheriff. He paid cash, and he was a very ordinary-looking man. I doubt I'd know him again if he walked in the door right now."

Dani was vaguely surprised that nobody seemed at all aware of the voice she had heard so clearly this time. Surprised that nobody was looking at her strangely or asking why she was breathing so unevenly, because surely she was, surely it was audible to everyone around her.

But no.

Even Paris seemed oblivious, intent on Miss Patty's conversation with Marc.

Patient, Marc said, "Can you tell me how old he was?"

"Well, I never was very good at estimating age, and I find it's even more difficult as I grow older. If you told me it was my ticket into heaven, the best I could say would be that he was probably a little older than you, Sheriff. About as tall. I suppose he must have worn a hat, or one of those hoodie things, because I can't recall what color his hair was."

She smiled apologetically. "You see, he wasn't in here long at all. Went straight to the refrigerator case and got the roses for himself. We usually have a dozen or two ready and that day it was red and yellow. He chose the red. He got the card, too, from one of our little cardholders here on the counter. And then he paid me in cash, wished me a good afternoon, and left."

"Miss Patty-"

"We were getting ready for a wedding, Sheriff. Very busy in the back, and so I wasn't really thinking about him, you understand. I am sorry. I wish I could help, I really do."

"Thanks anyway, Miss Patty. Oh, and-if you wouldn't mind?"

Her eyes twinkled. "Not talking about this? Of course I won't, Sheriff. You may count on my total discretion."

Outside, Jordan said, "So, who wants to bet me that Miss Patty isn't on the phone in the back room right this minute not talking about our visit?"

Nobody took him up on the offer.

THE NAME AUDREY on a bracelet seemed to mean little, or at least didn't appear to help them narrow their search in any way. Jordan reported three Audreys on the current tax rolls of Prophet County all of them born in Venture, likely to be buried here, and none having living husbands or living sons.

"Not that I'd expect to find her here anyway," Hollis said. "Unless our killer came home when he came to Venture. And somehow… that doesn't feel likely."

"So why did he come here?" Dani said. She rubbed the back of her neck, tired because it had been a very long day and because she hadn't been all that rested to begin with. "Why choose Venture as his latest hunting ground?"

"The sixty-four-thousand-dollar question," Paris agreed. "There has to be something that brought him here, of all places. Something Venture has that every other small town in the South lacks. And we don't have a clue what that is."

Marc got to his feet, saying, "All I know is that I've spent at least an hour longer than I should have in this room today. I need some air. Come on, Dani, I think you do too."

Hollis looked at Paris with mock sadness. "I feel unloved."

"And unwanted," Paris added.

They stared at each other, this time with real frowns.

"Weird," Hollis said. "Déjà vu."

"Yeah, me too."

Dani had no idea what they were talking about. She was fairly certain she wasn't up to sparring with Marc, but she'd also had more than her fill of this conference room and the brutal exercise of trying to put together the puzzle pieces of a monster's insane mind.

She got up and headed for the door, saying only, "If you guys come up with any bright new ideas, sing out."

Paris waved an absent hand, her attention already fixed once again on the open file on the table in front of her.

"At least she's not thinking about Dan or the divorce," Marc offered quietly as they walked down the hall toward the bullpen and main reception areas of the sheriff's department.

"The silver lining?"

"Why not?"

Dani didn't say anything to that until they were out on the sidewalk, both turning automatically toward the distant center of town because it was a pleasant walk on a pleasant late afternoon.

On most days, at least.

" Paris said-" She stopped herself.

"What did Paris say?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

Marc nodded to a passerby who had lifted a hand in greeting, and said, "Dani, I wish you'd stop censoring your instincts and impulses around me."