through to them. But they gave a lot of interviews afterward claiming they'd given the police valuable leads."
"Venable assured me there would be no media. He says this woman wouldn't participate if there was any chance of that."
"Sure," Eve said. "And pigs can fly."
"He also said that he was having a hell of a time persuading her to come and do the job. She wanted no part of it."
"Good. Then there's one less con artist to stir up mud."
"I take it that you're not going with me tomorrow morning."
"For heavens sake, are you deaf? Of course, I'm not going."
"I just want to be certain. Since you're so familiar with this kind of con game, you could be a big help in debunking."
"There's nothing to debunk. No wires. No ghostly figures. They just 'feel' things. They 'sense'
a presence or 'see' a vision. All very safe. They rely on some poor fool to want it to be true so badly that she'll accept anything they say." She still remembered standing in a forest in south Georgia and being torn by agony so intense she had felt ripped apart when she'd realized that the faint hope given by that psychic who had said Bonnie was alive was bogus. "And, dammit, I did. I did ."
"Eve." He took a half step toward her and then stopped. "I'd like to comfort you, but I'm experiencing odd qualms of conscience. I can be very calculating, but believe me, I didn't mean to hurt you by this."
"I know." She had to get control of herself. It had all come flooding back to her with just the mention of that damn psychic. "I'd tell Venable to go jump in the lake if I were you. You're wasting your time."
"I gave him my word." He shrugged. "Who knows? Perhaps the sheriff will become inspired to bring in some of his officers to look a little deeper into the boy's case himself. It could happen. Sometimes good results come from bad actions." He turned away. "If you change your mind, call me."
"I won't call you," She started toward the reconstruction on the table. "It would be like going back to that hell I went through to hobnob with another one of those damn phonies." THE BODY WAS HANGING thirty feet above the ground, a vine wrapped around his neck in a noose.
"Damn," Joe murmured as he played his flashlight on the man's face. "Who is it, Pete?"
"Don Astins." The deputy swallowed hard. "He's with the highway patrol. He volunteered to— God, another one. How does that bastard do it?"
Joe ignored the question. "When did you find him?"
"Twenty minutes ago. He didn't check in when he was supposed to do it, so we went looking for him. It took us a long time. We never thought to look up. Then someone saw the blood on the ground at the foot of the tree."
"Blood? He was hung."
"No, from the wound on his chest. I told everybody to leave him hanging. There might be evidence, right? He had to carry him up there."
"Could be." Joe moved to the left to get a better look at the front of the body. Wound on his chest, Pete had said. Dammit, don't let it be there.
He was in position to see the frontal area now. The stake driven into his chest and the—
"Shit!"
IT WAS CLOSE TO MIDNIGHT when Eve's phone rang.
"Did I wake you?" Joe asked when she picked up the phone. "Sorry, I just thought it was important enough to warrant a little loss of sleep."
"I wasn't sleeping. I was working." Her hand tightened on the phone. "You've caught him?"
"No." He paused. "He killed another police officer. According to the medical examiner he believes he was choked to death with a garrote and then hanged from the branches of the tree where we found him."
Eve closed her eyes. "Dear God."
"He had a stake through his heart."
She tensed. "With a note?"
"Yes."
"I don't have to ask what it said, do I?" she asked shakily.
"Same message."
She had known it was coming, but she still felt as if he'd struck her.
She could hear Joe cursing. "Dammit, I didn't want to tell you, but I was afraid someone else would get to you first."
"No, you were right to call me. I had to know." She
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