But not until he tied up a few little loose ends. It wouldn’t take long, but those that knew the truth, or suspected it, would have to perish.

To sacrifice themselves, little though they might be.

Now, he slipped between the folds of the heavy velvet curtain and waited. The final performance of the morality play was over and the priest would soon come to pray at the altar before taking the back path to his private residence, where he would pray for forgiveness, absolution, and mercy.

Vlad smiled in the darkness.

Mercy.

He kept his gaze trained on the door. As soon as Vlad was certain Father Mathias wasn’t altering his routine, he would follow him and ensure that the priest’s tormented soul was released.

Father Mathias would no longer suffer.

Jay whistled to the dog, opened the door of his truck, and once Bruno was inside, slid behind the wheel. He kicked himself up one side and down the other for being such a fool and tried to keep from panicking.

Checking the glove box, he found his Glock and shoved it into a pocket of his jacket, all the while thinking of Kristi—beautiful, athletic, sassy, and stubborn Kristi. How had he let her talk him into leaving her alone in Baton Rouge?

He switched on the ignition and, grinding the gears, threw the old Toyota into reverse, squealing onto the street. Then he rammed the truck into drive, hit the accelerator, sped out of the cul-de-sac onto the main street, and headed for the freeway.

He’d been delayed at the lab with the discovery of four bodies—the missing girls from All Saints. The evidence found with the bodies had taken quite a while to collect and process. And as he’d worked he’d tried, over and over again, to call Kristi, to no avail.

Where the hell was she?

One more time, he hit her speed dial number.

One more time he was thrown to her voice mail.

“Hell!” He nearly tossed the phone across the seat as he kept one eye on the road, skirting around a tractor trailer. Why wasn’t she answering the damned phone? Had she forgotten it? Had it run out of battery life? Or had something happened to her?

In his mind’s eye he saw the bloodless bodies of the girls in the morgue and sent up a prayer that she hadn’t become a victim of the psycho who was behind the killings. Why hadn’t he insisted she go to the police when they found the damned vial of blood? What kind of an idiot was he to allow her to stay in Baton Rouge, alone, when they both suspected that a serial killer was stalking coeds. And that someone was videotaping her apartment!

Like you could have stopped her! No way. Not that bull-headed woman.