The Fifth Victim. BEVERLY BARTON

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      “Are you all right now?” he asked.

      She nodded, belting the long pink chenille robe and tightening the sash around her waist.

      After tossing the afghan aside, Dallas stood and stretched. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I must have been beat.”

      “Then you haven’t checked the phones, have you?”

      He shook his head. “Afraid not.”

      Genny lifted the receiver from the telephone base on her nightstand and placed it to her ear. “Still no dial tone.” She walked over to the window, pulled back the curtain and secured it on a clip behind the window frame. After glancing out, she said, “It’s a beautiful day. The sun might melt away some of the snow. We should be able to get into town this afternoon, if the snowplows make it up this far.”

      Without waiting for a comment from Dallas, she motioned to Drudwyn. “Time to go out, boy.” Her gaze fell on Dallas. “How do pancakes with maple syrup for breakfast sound to you?”

      “Delicious,” he replied. “But please don’t go to any trouble for me. I usually just grab a quick cup of coffee before I head out in the morning.”

      “Why don’t you take a shower while I let Drudwyn out and start breakfast? I have a gas hot-water heater, so even with the electricity out, you’ll have plenty of hot water.”

      “Sounds good to me.”

      “I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you to change into, but I don’t think anything of mine would work, and when Jacob moved into town last year, he didn’t leave any of his clothes behind.”

      “I’ll be fine.”

      “All right. When you finish your shower, you’ll find me in the kitchen.”

      Although a powerful magnetism drew her to Dallas, she forcefully pulled herself away from him. As she went through the house toward the kitchen, Drudwyn at her heels, she thought about the peculiar feelings Dallas Sloan evoked in her. From the first moment she opened the door to him last night, she’d known he was destined to become important to her. As a friend? As a lover? Or simply as an instrument of change in her life? She wasn’t sure. She knew only that her fate was intertwined with the big, blond stranger’s.

      When she opened the back door, Drudwyn bounded onto the porch and out into the snow. Shivering, she closed the door quickly. Two sets of high double windows on the outside walls let light flood into the kitchen. Genny flipped the switch to check for electricity. Just as she had suspected, the power was still out. She set about preparing the coffee in an old metal pot, then placed it atop the gas cookstove. While the coffee brewed, she prepared the batter for their pancakes. As she kept herself occupied, she tried not to think about this morning’s vision, but her mind kept replaying the scene over and over in her mind.

      Another young woman dead. She’d been able to tell that the woman was fairly young because her breasts had been firm, her body supple. Who had been killed this time? And where? The first victim had been slaughtered on a makeshift altar in the woods. But this time the altar had been more elaborate, similar to ones used in churches.

      Oh, God! Multicolored light. Stained glass. A decoratively carved altar. Had he murdered this woman in a church? In a church in Cherokee Pointe?

      Genny’s hands trembled. A fresh egg fell from her fingers to the floor and splattered its sticky contents across the wide planks. She hurried to clean up the mess and get on with preparing the pancakes. There was absolutely nothing she could do for the second victim, just as there had been nothing she could do for Susie Richards. Why, Lord? Why give me this incredible gift and not allow it to be used to save lives?

      Fifteen minutes later, Dallas joined her at the kitchen table. His thick, unruly hair was still damp, and a day’s growth of brown beard stubble added a rather rakish quality to his ruggedly handsome appearance. His dark slacks and white shirt were wrinkled, but his slightly disheveled appearance didn’t seem to bother him at all. And oddly enough, Genny thought it made him all the more appealing.

      “Something sure smells good,” he said.

      “Please, sit down. Everything is ready.”

      They sat across from each other at the big, round table and ate in relative silence, occasionally exchanging glances. While she picked at her food, he ate heartily and asked for seconds.

      “Would you like another cup of coffee?” she asked as she rose from her seat.

      “Stay there,” he told her. “I should be waiting on you. After all, you cooked for us.”

      “I have to get up anyway. Drudwyn and the others need to be fed.”

      “The others?”

      “The squirrels, raccoons, birds, and other wild creatures that depend on me in weather like this.”

      “You must have quite a feed bill if you’re providing food for all the animals out there in those woods.”

      “I have more than enough money for my needs, so I share my bounty with others.”

      Dallas finished his breakfast, downed his fourth cup of coffee, then gathered up their dishes and placed them in the sink. He glanced out the window and saw Drudwyn racing around in the snow, playful and exuberant despite the desperate cold. Then he caught a glimpse of Genny. She wore a heavy, black wool coat over her pajamas and robe, thick rubber boots on her feet, and a black knit cap pulled down over her ears. She stood in the middle of the backyard and was surrounded by a variety of animals. Squirrels. Raccoons. Possums. A couple of foxes. A deer. A silver-gray wolf. And birds perched on her shoulder and outstretched arm.

      Dallas blinked to clear his vision, thinking he had imagined the scene before him. Not his imagination. It was real. Genny Madoc had charmed the wild animals in the forest. They came to her like babes to their mother. He’d never seen anything like it. And although he was seeing it now with his own two eyes, he found it incomprehensible.

      An odd feeling hit him in the pit of his stomach. He’d humorously considered her a witch who had cast a spell over him last night. Seeing her now, in this setting, with a host of spellbound animals circling her, Dallas didn’t find the thought of Genny possessing some sort of unearthly power quite as amusing.

      Get a grip, Sloan, he told himself. Genny isn’t a witch, because there is no such thing as witches. She hasn’t cast a spell over you or those animals. You find her sexually appealing. And as for the animals—she’s probably been feeding them for years. Yeah, that was it. Those explanations made sense to him. They were logical.

      Suddenly the birds flew away and the animals scattered. Genny turned her head and looked toward the front of the house. That’s when Dallas heard the drone of motors in the distance.

      Genny came running into the house, stripping off her coat and hat as she flew into the kitchen. “The snowplows are coming up the mountain,” she said breathlessly. “We’ll be able to get into town soon.”

      “We?” Dallas asked.

      “Your car is still in the ditch, so we’ll take mine. We can send a wrecker back for yours. We both want to see Jacob as soon as possible, don’t we?”

      “Why СКАЧАТЬ