Bruno twisted, paws on the back of the passenger seat as he glared through the window of the cab at his adversary. He was still growling and whining. “Forget it,” Jay advised, increasing his speed to thirty. “It’s gone.”

The hound wasn’t about to give up but with a final “Leave it,” from Jay, he gave a single woof and curled up on the seat again. “Good boy,” Jay said, then spying something in his headlights, slammed on the brakes again. “Jesus!”

His truck skidded, frame shimmying, tires squealing. Bruno was nearly dumped into the dash as the truck’s grill barely missed the man in black who leaped to one side and hazarded a quick glance at the pickup, his clerical collar showing white, his glasses fogged and reflecting the headlight’s glare. His washed-out face was twisted in anxiety, as if he were in fear for his life. He kept running, his cassock billowing behind him. “Are you nuts!” Jay yelled, adrenaline shooting through his bloodstream.

Jay’s heart was beating like a drum. He’d nearly struck the guy! But the priest didn’t so much as break stride. Half running, he disappeared into a park that backed up to one side of the campus.

“The guy’s out of his mind,” Jay muttered furiously, mentally counting to ten as he eased off the brakes and once again started driving through the night. “What the hell is he doing crossing the damned street in the dark? Moron! What’s wrong with the crosswalk?”

What the hell was going on…? The holy man looked as if he’d just seen a ghost, and he seemed to want to avoid anyone seeing him.

Jay let out his breath but he was still tense, muscles drawn, nerves stretched thin, fingers clenched over the steering wheel. Within three minutes he’d nearly hit a cat and a man.

The priest had looked familiar. It had been dark, yes, but there was something about him that made Jay think they’d met before. Here. In Baton Rouge. And it wasn’t because Jay hightailed it to mass on Sunday mornings. No…it had to have been on campus or at an All Saints event of some kind.

Letting out a shaky breath, Jay shook his head. He cautiously stepped on the gas again, his eyes narrowing on the quiet road. “Third time’s a charm,” he said, wondering if he were cursing himself. Few cars passed him, nor were any following him as he turned onto the winding street leading to his cousins’ bungalow.

He glanced in the rearview mirror, though he didn’t know why. No one was following him. “Better keep your eyes on the road, McKnight.”

He was still trying to place the priest. It hadn’t been Father Anthony Mediera, the priest who, for all intents and purposes, was in charge of the college, but someone else he’d met on campus. Who? When?