Stealing Shadows

Her fingers plucked desperately at his in a vain attempt to loosen them. Blackness swam across her vision, and she sagged once more against him as the newly found strength drained out of her legs in a rush.

'/ saw him kill you, Abby. I couldn't see his face, and I don't know who he is, but he was enraged, cursing, and his hands were on your throat.'

Oh, God. Alexandra had been right after all. Fate couldn't be changed…

It was very quiet when they reached the heavy oak door, and the light from the basement above barely illuminated the wooden steps behind them. Matt was acutely conscious of every soft creak beneath the feet of the deputy a few steps behind him and Bishop. His fears fixed on what lay beyond, Matt curled his fingers over the knob and turned it slowly. But when he leaned against the unlocked door, it refused to budge. Still moving slowly despite every instinct screaming inside him, he eased back.

Bishop bent down and used a tiny penlight to study the door. 'Looks like a new bolt might have been installed on the inside,' he whispered.

Matt looked at the shotgun the agent carried, and tried to swallow the dryness of terror. 'Then we'll have to blast our way in.'

'If we're quick enough, the surprise should give us a few seconds before he can act.'

A few seconds.

Dear God.

Matt looked at the pistol in his hand. He thumbed off the safety and held it ready. 'You blast the door, I go in first.'

They shifted position, and Bishop aimed his shotgun. 'Ready?'

'Go.'

The sudden roar of the shotgun was deafening. Bishop followed it with a powerful kick to the door, and it crashed open.

Matt was moving even as he registered the scene inside, even as he saw that most of his worst fears had come true.

Near the center of the room, Abby slumped back against Mike Shaw, her throat surrounded by his powerful hands. Her own hands fell limply at her sides and her knees buckled as the life was squeezed out of her.

An animal-like bellow escaping from somewhere deep inside him, Matt charged across the few feet separating him and Abby. His wild gaze was on her, but he saw Mike start to turn, his young face twisted into a horrible mask of rage.

Matt didn't hesitate. He swung his gun and slammed the butt against the bridge of Mike's nose. His fingers instantly released Abby to claw at his own face. Then, before he could do more than draw a lungful of breath to howl in pain, Matt kicked the back of his knee, and he went sprawling.

Matt left him for Bishop and the deputies. He dropped to the floor beside Abby's limp body and gathered her into his arms, feeling himself begin to shake.

'Abby? Honey, please – '

At first Abby thought it was all over. But then she heard an ungodly noise, was dimly aware of Mike jerking behind her, of his fingers tightening almost convulsively. There was no more air, and the blackness filled everything, and she was falling.

'Abby… Abbyl Honey, open your eyes. Look at me, Abby! Look at me – ' Matt's voice.

She tried to swallow and found that her throat hurt terribly. Tried to open her eyes and had to fight against the weight holding them shut. He was cradling her in his arms, his expression so fierce that it would have frightened her if any other man had worn it. But it was easy for Abby to smile at Matt.

'Hello,' she whispered through her very sore throat. He groaned and gathered her even closer, and over his shoulder Abby saw Mike sprawled out on the floor, cursing steadily while his hands were being cuffed behind his back by one of Matt's deputies. His nose was bleeding.

Bishop stood near the table, looking down at the music box that no longer played, at the butcher knife Mike had been too many steps away from. The agent was holding a shotgun, which explained the explosion of sound Abby vaguely recalled hearing. They must have used that to blast through the door – and distract Mike long enough to let them get inside the room.

Talk about an eleventh-hour rescue.

Abby managed to get her arms up around Matt's neck and whispered, 'What do you know. This time somebody came.'

MARCH 1, 1999

'The really unexpected thing,' Ben said after hanging up the phone the next afternoon, 'is that Hannah Payne probably saved her own life as well as Abby's. Matt says they found Polaroids at Mike Shaw's house – all the victims before and after he grabbed them. And he had one each of Abby and Hannah. So she was intended to be next. She told Matt she got a creepy phone call the other day, the same as Abby did. Abby thought hers came from Gary, but he swore not.'

'Before or after Matt hit him?'

Ben chuckled. 'After, I think. Gary Montgomery is a very subdued man, I'd say. Matt made it perfectly plain to him that if Abby gets so much as a hangnail in the next thirty or forty years, Gary is dead meat. And given the fact that Matt was just this side of sane after nearly losing her to a serial killer, I have no doubts that Gary believed every word.'

'Neither do I.'

Ben sat down beside her on the sofa and shook his head. 'I still can't get over it. Mike Shaw, a serial killer. Christ, he worked on my campaign.'

'Is he saying anything?'

'Not much, no. And since the county public defender has already announced she'll resign before taking him on as a client, and his father refuses to hire any other attorney – not that one has come forward to offer – questioning him is a bit of a problem.'

'How will it be solved?'

'We're going outside the county to somebody who won't have to live here after the trial. Judge Hayes already has calls in to a couple of good lawyers, and one of them's bound to take the case – for the notoriety, if nothing else. Then again, when the news breaks in the major newspapers, there'll probably be at least a few hotshots outside the state who'll sell their souls for the case.' 'But you'll prosecute?'

'Damned right. His lawyer will argue for a change of venue, but no matter where the case is tried, I will prosecute.'

'Good. Did I hear you say something about Bishop?' 'Matt says he's sticking around for a while. Lending his expertise in gathering and cataloging all the evidence they're turning up at Mike's house.' Ben paused, then went on carefully. 'Which, of course, wouldn't have anything to do with you. Him staying, I mean.'

Cassie looked at him, smiling faintly. 'Not a thing.' He eyed her. 'Uh-huh.'

'Don't you have to be in court today? I mean, I know the county prosecutor has a certain amount of leeway, but most of them work Mondays, I thought.'

'I'm taking some well-deserved time off before getting to work on the biggest case this county has ever seen. The legal system won't grind to a halt without me for a few days.'

Cassie was thoughtful. 'I see. Which, of course, wouldn't have anything to do with me.' 'It's Max. I can't bear to abandon him.' She glanced toward the dog, who was snoring softly on his rug near the fireplace. 'Yes, he's obviously the clinging sort.'

Ben grinned at her. 'Okay, okay. We both know you're not. And I know you're not in danger any longer, not even from crank calls, given that the mayor is ready to hand you the key to the town after Matt made it clear you saved Abby's life and helped him catch the killer.'

'I hope you'll tell His Honor I don't want the key to the town.' Cassie was uncomfortable both with that idea and with the growing certainty that Ben had something on his mind. 'I'm glad I was able to help there at the end, but nothing's really changed, Ben.'

'Hasn't it?' He was grave now, watchful.