Joshua snuggled into her side. “I saw the Spider-Man pj’s. Can I wear them?”

She kissed the top of his head. “You may have them.”

Joshua hugged her neck, his smile bright and free of worry. “Thank you!”

Michael closed his eyes and wished they could stay here forever.

Cincinnati, Ohio
Saturday, March 16, 11:50 p.m.

Slouching in the driver’s seat, Cade watched the taillights of the cruiser pause at George Garrett’s house before continuing down the street.

Cade checked the time. The police drive-bys were spaced approximately an hour apart. The two closest had been forty-five minutes apart, so he had at least that much time before the next cruiser came by.

Finding the right George Garrett hadn’t been terribly difficult. There had been several listed in the white pages, but only one had a vanity plate containing the letters DRFISH. Dr. Garrett was a pediatrician, lived alone, and had no dog, his Lab having died of old age during the holidays.

Facebook was such an asset. Garrett’s page confirmed that he spent all his free time in the boat currently parked in his driveway, and that he’d planned to fish the Ohio this morning. He was supposed to have been joined by a friend, but the man had begged off at the last minute, citing a spring cold.

Lucky bastard, the friend. He’d missed out on the gore and . . . what was to come.

Cade didn’t think Dr. Garrett would come to the door if he knocked. It was too late for legitimate visitors. But the doctor was still awake. Cade could see his shadow passing back and forth behind the thin shade covering what was probably a bedroom window. The man was pacing.

He couldn’t blame him. Not an easy sight to unsee, a disembodied head being pulled from the water. And if the good doctor was unfortunate enough to see my face as well? He might have. Cade had been dumping the bodies of the two men he’d killed after last night’s poker game after dawn. The fishermen had usually started out by then.

Cade would find out soon enough. He patted the pockets of his jacket, making doubly sure he had his gun in one pocket and his lockpick set in the other. Starting his SUV, he drove around the block and parked on the street behind Garrett’s house, just in case he needed a quick getaway. The fences were four-footers, and he could jump those with no problem.

Pulling a ski mask over his face, he got out of his SUV and, keeping to the dark side of Garrett’s house, headed to the back door. Even if the man had the place alarmed, Cade would have at least thirty seconds to make the shot and get out. He’d done it far faster in the past.