The Devil's Footprints. Amanda Stevens

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ritual murder. They found satanic symbols at the crime scene, just like upstairs. Is that what hit you so hard?”

      Sarah pushed damp strands of hair from her face. “Just leave it alone, okay? I’ve told you a million times I don’t like dredging all that stuff up. It doesn’t do any good. I don’t remember anything about that night, and at this point, I doubt I ever will.”

      “But you do remember. You’re just not letting those memories come out. That’s why you still have nightmares. It’s possible you know who the killer is. And you know he’s still out there.”

      Sarah tried to muster an indignant response that would end this. “Oh, so you’re a shrink now?”

      “It doesn’t take a shrink to figure this thing out. You were found near the crime scene covered in your sister’s blood. Whatever you saw that night traumatized you so badly you decided to forget what happened. But those memories are still buried in your subconscious. They come out when you dream. So you don’t sleep until your body shuts down from exhaustion because you’re desperate to keep them at bay for as long as you can.” Sean leaned down and said in her ear, “Why won’t you let them out, Sarah? Who are you trying to protect?”

      Startled, she moved back, away from him, trying to put distance between herself and the past. But it was too late. She could feel herself slipping into that dark void of paranoia and guilt that had stalked her through most of her teenage years and followed her into adulthood. She found herself scouring the icy darkness, searching for the evil that she knew would sooner or later come back for her.

      Sean touched her arm and she jumped.

      “You remembered something earlier, didn’t you?”

      Slowly she turned to face him. “Is that why you asked me to come here? Because you thought the crime scene would jog my memory?”

      It seemed to Sarah that he couldn’t quite meet her gaze. “I called you because I want your help.”

      She wasn’t convinced. There was something else at play here, something that Sean might not even be completely aware of himself. Somewhere along the way, he’d become obsessed with her sister’s murder. It was no longer about Sarah’s peace of mind. It wasn’t even about justice. Sean had convinced himself—knowingly or otherwise—that he was the one person who could catch Rachel’s killer.

      “If you really want my help, why are you badgering me about something that happened fourteen years ago? Maybe you should try focusing on a crime you might actually be able to solve.”

      He winced and she could tell he was on the verge of a retort, then he changed his mind and shrugged. “Okay. Maybe you’re right. Maybe this isn’t the right time to get into all that. But there’s something I need to know before I have Parks take you home.” His face looked both dark and pale in the light spilling out from the windows. “What did you mean earlier when you asked if we’d found any unusual prints around the house?”

      Sarah glanced up at the sky. The swirling snowflakes reminded her of tiny, dancing angels. She put out a hand to catch one in her palm.

      “What kind of prints were you talking about, Sarah?”

      She remained silent as her fingers closed over a snowflake.

      Six

      Adamant, Arkansas

       Christmas Eve

      The temperature dropped after dark and it had started to mist. Ashe shivered in his lightweight jacket as he glanced yet again over his shoulder, making sure he couldn’t be spotted.

      An unnecessary precaution, because the house was on a two-acre lot at the end of the street. Even if the closest neighbors should glance outside, they would see only a shadow beneath the DeLaunes’ living room window.

      Nor was there any need to worry about passing cars. The streets were deserted. He couldn’t see anything but the kaleidoscopic blur of twinkling lights in the distance. On Christmas Eve, the good citizens of Adamant were home celebrating with their families.

      But the night was like any other to him. He felt nothing more than a fleeting twinge of regret that no one knew or cared how he spent his Christmas Eve. He didn’t dwell on his loneliness, because being invisible had its compensation.

      Shrugging off the disquiet, he turned back to the window. It was nearly midnight. Everyone except Sarah’s father had gone up to bed, and he sat dozing in an easy chair in front of the fireplace. Blissfully unaware.

      Earlier, the family had gathered around the Christmas tree to exchange presents. The window was open a crack to allow the smoke from the old man’s pipe to escape, and Ashe had been able to hear their voices so clearly it was almost as if he were a part of the celebration. He’d followed the conversation with avid fascination, even though his eyes had been riveted on Sarah.

      Dressed in jeans and a pale yellow sweater, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, she’d sat cross-legged on the floor, opening her gifts with a brooding scowl that had irritated her father. The contrast between her sister’s girly squeals as she tore into one package after another had finally become too much for him.

      “I’ve had enough of this.” He got up and strode over to Sarah, grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. “If you want to sit there and sulk, you can damn well do it in your room. You’re not going to ruin the evening for the rest of us.”

      Her mother nervously rose to her feet. “James—”

      “Stay out of this, Anna. I should have taken care of this at dinner when she was being so rude and aggressive with her sister. She’s an ungrateful little brat, and I’m not going to sit here and tolerate this surly behavior any longer.”

      Still clutching her arm, he marched Sarah out of the room and up the stairs. He was gone for a long time, and when he came back, he looked flushed and angry.

      “Daddy, are you okay?” Rachel asked softly.

      He smiled, his anger melting when he looked at her. “I’m fine, princess, don’t you worry. I’ve got something that’ll make us both feel better.” He plucked a tiny package from his jacket pocket and placed it on the table beside his chair. “Come have a look.”

      “Another present?” She gave a little laugh as she tore away the ribbon and paper with frenzied excitement. From Ashe’s place at the window, he saw a flash of fire from the open box before Rachel threw her arms around the old man’s neck. “Daddy! Diamonds? Are they real?”

      “Of course they are. Would I give my princess anything but the real thing?”

      “But I thought…Mama said I should wait until next year and get them for graduation.”

      “And I say you should have them now.”

      “Thank you, Daddy. Thank you…thank you…thank you!” She planted a kiss on his cheek after each thank-you, then hugged him tightly. He clung to her for a moment before she got up and ran over to show her mother.

      “Mama, look! Have you ever seen anything so beautiful? Isn’t Daddy just the sweetest thing?”

      Her mother murmured something Ashe couldn’t hear, and then she watched her oldest daughter

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