“But he obviously got to keep his shrine,” Lynch said.

“He … bargained.”

“With what?” Kendra asked.

“Information. He gave us the name of the guard who had sold him some prescription meds. The guard is now on administrative leave pending an investigation, and Colby got to keep his collection. It’s rare for a prisoner to inform on a guard, but I guess he figured he won’t be here that much longer.” The warden turned toward Kendra. “How did you know about the phones?”

She picked up the envelopes of mail on the table. “A guard apparently slipped them to him with his opened mail envelopes. Look at the creased outlines on this one.” She held up a greeting-card envelope. “This is the imprint of an inexpensive flip phone.” She held up another envelope. “And this one is exactly the same.” She flipped them over and showed that each envelope had a lengthy series of numbers written on it. “And I’m willing to bet that these numbers unlock minutes on the accounts of those phones.” She handed the envelopes to Salazar. “Do you recognize the handwriting?”

“Not immediately.” He pocketed the envelopes. “But you can bet we’ll do everything until we do identify it.”

Lynch placed his hand on Kendra’s back. Silent support. Comfort. “Anything else, Kendra?”

“No. Nothing.”

Nothing except those damned pictures.

Griffin turned toward the warden. “We need to talk to him.”

“Of course. I didn’t expect anything else. We have an interrogation room you can use in the visitor center.” He glanced at his watch. “He should be done with his media interview by now. I’ll have him brought over right away.” He looked curiously at Kendra. “Tell me, are you nervous? You haven’t seen him in a long time, have you?”

“Not long enough.” She followed Griffin out of the cell. “And ‘nervous’ isn’t the term I’d choose.” Dread, horror, and a curious sense of inevitability. “And, yes, it’s been over four years…”

CHAPTER

8

Four Years Earlier

Coachella Valley, California

7:42 P.M.

“THE GAME’S OVER, KENDRA!”

Panic.

Kendra’s heart was beating hard as she huddled behind a clump of large boulders protruding from the mountainside. Although darkness had fallen, the rocks were still warm from the late-afternoon sun.

She desperately needed that cover. Eric Colby stood at the top of the hill, staring in her direction.

“You’re very clever, Kendra. But not clever enough.”

Colby’s voice carried down the small ridge. He had manipulated events perfectly, drawing her and the two FBI agents out to this remote desert valley.

Now the agents were dead.

And she was next.

Kendra carefully moved down the hillside, hugging the large boulders as she mentally mapped an escape route.

“You could have saved them, Kendra. I didn’t care about those agents. I only cared about you.”

Don’t listen. Don’t let him rattle you. Keep moving.

“It gets cold out here. You can wrap yourself in the skin of those dead agents, if you like. Yes, that would be a great idea. The heavyset one looks like he would be hairy and warm. I can skin him in just a few minutes. Want me to throw it down to you?”

It. Throw it down. Special Agent Steven Byers, the sweet and funny man with a wife at home who was expecting a baby in two months, was now an it.

“Don’t feel bad,” he called down. “Before the night is over, I’ll be wearing your skin.” He paused. “Do you think I’m joking?”

He wasn’t joking.

She moved through a deep gully, scrambling to put as much distance between her and that madman as she could. She stumbled, then she stumbled again. What the hell was blocking her way?

Then she caught wind of an awful odor. The same odor as before.

And she knew what was blocking her path.

Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness.

She looked down.

Half a dozen corpses surrounded her on the gully floor, piled like dolls in a toy chest.

She choked back a scream.

No. God, no.

Move. Don’t stand here frozen.

She pushed on, trying not to look at the horror around her.

Colby laughed. “Have you found my friends yet? Did you think that those heads in the warehouse belonged to my only kills? Dozens more, Kendra.” She heard his footsteps sliding down the embankment.

He was coming for her.

She stopped as the sheer rock side of the mountain loomed before her.

No!

The gully’s sides were now over eight feet high, and she was boxed in.

Trapped.

No weapon.

No place to hide.

And he was getting closer.

She dove for the canyon floor and crawled back. Only one chance … She hurtled forward and found herself flat on her stomach.

And face-to-face with a young woman’s corpse.

Kendra grabbed the corpse’s shoulders and rolled over with it, intertwining her arms and legs with those of the decaying bodies on the canyon floor. Kendra fought her gag reflex as the odor flooded her nasal passages.

Must stay still. Perfectly still.

She heard Colby moving faster in her direction. Then he stopped, his gaze searching his macabre graveyard.

He began stepping over the corpses as he called out to the end of the gully. “There’s no way out, Kendra!”

Her head was turned away from him, lost—she hoped—in the horrific jumble of his victims. She heard his boots moving through the brush.

Could he see her?

She pictured him still holding his two large knives, overhanded in his right, underhanded in his left. The blades would still be dripping the blood of those two FBI agents.

He moved over her, close enough that she could hear him breathing directly overhead.

He stopped, his head tilted, listening.

Could he hear her breathing? She held her breath.

Keep going, please keep going …

He stepped over her …

… and then past.

In seconds, he’d know she wasn’t at the end of the trench.

No time to waste.

Or even think.

Her hand closed on a large rock, its jagged edges cutting into her palm. She slid out from under the corpses.

In one smooth motion, she rolled over and jumped to her feet.

A second later, she was behind Colby.

She struck him on the back of the head.

And again.

And again.

He howled in pain as the jagged edge of the rock cut his head. He tried to spin around with his knives, but she struck him again with all her strength.

He staggered forward and fell to his knees.

“Die, you son of a bitch.” She struck him again.

He pitched forward and went limp.

Kendra stood over him, still holding the bloody rock as she waited for any sign that he might rise again. Was he dead?

She hoped he was dead, she thought savagely.

No. He was still breathing.

But three or four more blows would surely do the trick. No jury on earth would convict her. After all, it was the only way to be sure he wouldn’t come after her …

She was giving herself excuses to kill Eric Colby. He was helpless, down for the count.

And she was not a murderer. She wouldn’t let him make her into the same monster he had become. She’d climb the nearest ridge and hope for cell reception there. If that didn’t work, she’d take Agent Byers’s car to the nearest town.

It would be okay. The evidence against Colby was overwhelming. They’d put him away and send him to death row. Eric Colby would never hurt anyone again.

But she still couldn’t let go of that rock. She gripped it tighter.

Just three or four more blows …

She craned her neck, trying to breathe air that wasn’t infected by that awful stench of death.

She staggered backward and scrambled up the side of the gully.

Three or four more blows …

She climbed the ridge and reached for her phone.