thought all his crimes had been committed in Florida.”
“Now they’re looking at other unsolved murders in the South. Turns out he drifted for a while. Worked construction, followed the jobs. Then he settled in with a wife and couple of kids in the Sunshine State. But he didn’t stop preying on young women.”
Christian knew Zandoff had been caught with a young woman’s monogrammed barrette and a brand-new shovel covered with Tallahassee’s sandy clay loam. That was the crime he’d been arrested for. And when the body was finally located, the two in shallow graves beside it had earned him the death penalty.
Christian searched the pastor’s face impassively. On the track beyond them he could hear Javier praising Cocoa for a job well-done. They only had another minute at most to finish the conversation before Javier joined them.
“I’m unclear as to why you’re telling me this. I’m not Karl Zandoff. I didn’t kill one woman, much less an interstate sorority. If you think his example is going to stir my conscience, forget it.”
“Christian.” She shook her head, as if she really was disappointed in him. “I know you as well as anybody does. You didn’t kill Fidelity Sutherland.”
He studied her. “There were people who knew me as well as they knew themselves, and they questioned it.” One woman in particular, whose face he still hadn’t been able to erase from his memory.
She glanced at the track. “I’m telling you because there’s a rumor Zandoff spent time in northern Virginia between nine and ten years ago. He’s hinting that he murdered a woman here, as well.”
For a moment Christian didn’t make the connection. Then he shrugged. “Lots of people disappear or die mysteriously every year.”
“He worked construction. They’re looking at records.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Somebody working the case told me. I want to call your attorney. Your interests should be represented.”
Javier reached the railing with Cocoa in tow. He had black hair that fell straight to his shoulders and an incongruously narrow face that didn’t fit his broad body. “Did you see that? She’s catching on, and she goes with a real light touch. She’ll be perfect for a woman.”
“Hello, Javier.” Bertha greeted him warmly. “I spoke to your wife last week.”
The big man beamed. “She doing okay, Pastor?”
“She says you have a good chance with the parole board. Should I start scouting out a job for you?”
“You’d do that?”
“I sure would.”
There wasn’t much Bertha Petersen wouldn’t do for her inmates. She believed in every one of them, despite all evidence to the contrary. She was as comfortable with murderers as she was with Bible-thumping evangelists. She wasn’t foolish, she simply believed that God held her life in his hands.
“About that phone call?” She turned to Christian.
He shrugged. He was dismayed to find that for a moment he had almost been suckered by hope. But unlike the good pastor, he had no illusions that God cared one way or the other what happened to Christian Carver. The prison walls were too thick for lightning to strike here.
“I’ll take it that’s a yes,” she said with a smile. “I’ll leave you gentlemen to your work.”
“She don’t know what bad asses we really are, does she?” Javier said, once the minister was out of earshot.
“Oh, she knows. She just doesn’t care.” Christian grimaced. “God doesn’t deserve a woman like that one.”
“Hey, man, you could go to hell for saying that.”
“Been there, doing that.” Christian walked away.
5
Julia longed to pace, but that was a recipe for disaster. She’d been raised in this house, but nothing had ever stayed the same. As a child she might return home from school to find that Maisy had rearranged bedrooms or turned the dining room into an exercise studio. Furniture mysteriously traveled from room to room, and carpets soared to new locations like props from the Arabian Nights.
With her eyesight intact, the changes had been mere annoyances. Now they were lethal. She didn’t know where to step or sit. Even with Karen’s help, she hadn’t yet mastered the small first-floor bedroom where Jake had made her welcome.
“I’m facing the window that looks over the front driveway.” Julia lifted her arm cautiously, but if she was indeed facing the window, it was still more than a length away.
“Good.” Karen’s voice sounded calmer than it had since their escape from the clinic.
Julia felt sympathy for the nurse, but right now she was too worried about Callie to offer much support. Maisy had gone to Millcreek to fetch her, and Julia was afraid there might be trouble. “I’ve got it right?”
“You’re right on target. We’ll get this room memorized, then I’ll talk to your parents about setting up the rest of the house so you can move around easily.” Karen paused. “This really isn’t my area of expertise, Mrs. Warwick. You’d do better to hire someone who has experience with the blind.”
“Call me Julia. And you have a job with me as long as you want one.”
“Your eyesight could return tomorrow. I hope it does.”
“Me, too. And if it does, then you automatically become my personal assistant. And don’t think I don’t need one. I’ve been threatening to hire somebody, and now I have.”
“Just remember I warned you.”
“Didn’t you tell me you have a son at home? Do you need to get back to him?”
“Brandon. My mother takes care of him.”
“Why don’t you go ahead and leave for the day? You’ve done more than enough. But we’ll see—” She stopped and wondered how long she’d continue to use that expression. “We can expect you in the morning?”
“Eight? Nine?”
“Nine will be terrific.” Julia managed a smile. “I’m turning now and facing the bed.” She started forward, stopping after several steps. She put out her hands but didn’t touch anything. Karen wisely kept silent.
She took two more steps before feeling for the bed again. This time she felt the spread under her fingertips. “I can make myself comfortable. Go on, now.”
“Nine, then. I’ll come right after I get Brandon off to school. Sleep well.”
“Better than I have in weeks.”
“If you have trouble, try herbal tea or warm milk.”
Julia liked that prescription better than the ones the doctor had issued. “A
