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Chapters (50)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. TITLE PAGE
  3. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  4. DEDICATION
  5. CONTENTS
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

“This woman—the one they call the witch—she’s a dog trainer. She has a cadaver dog that can find almost anything—even bodies buried hundreds of years ago. You know the graveyard at the Patriot Center? She’s the one who found every one of those graves—and the four bodies that weren’t supposed to be there. They thought a different woman found the graves at first—everybody did. That woman has disappeared; the FBI thinks someone killed her.”

“Where did you hear all this?”

“From the nice young FBI agent in charge of the investigation.”

“So now you own an FBI agent.”

“Don’t be silly—no one ‘owns’ an FBI agent. He simply keeps me informed as a professional courtesy, that’s all.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“You disappoint me, Chris—I thought you were smarter than that. Think about the scrapbooks: Do you know who killed the four people they found at the Patriot Center?”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

“So do I—but the FBI doesn’t know, and we don’t want them to. All they’ve had to work with so far is four very old skeletons, and that’s not enough for them to figure out who did it. But they just found another body—in a different graveyard—and there could be more. Every time they find another body, they find more evidence, and that puts them one step closer to figuring it all out. Guess who found that fifth body, Chris? The witch did—the Witch of Endor. She’s the real problem here.”

“What are you asking me to do?”

“I’m not asking you to do anything. I’m just telling you my problem, that’s all—I’m just telling you what’s weighing on my heart. That’s what women do, Chris. They find a man they feel close to and then they share their burden with him. If the man really cares, he’ll do something about her problem—without waiting to be asked. That’s how she knows if he really cares—if he does something.”

She turned her back to him and stepped in close until they were almost touching. She looked back at him over her right shoulder. “Help me up, will you?”

She fit her left foot into the stirrup. He put his hands on her waist and lifted; she slowly rose up in front of him and swung her right leg over the saddle.

Chris looked up at her. “When?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. But my problem is getting worse every day—if anyone cares.”

He nodded.

She tugged on the reins and backed the horse away. “Oh, and Chris— muck the stall while I’m gone, will you? I gave the stable boy the day off.”

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