Omaha, Nebraska

Maggie checked her cell phone for messages, contemplating whether or not to turn the phone off for their interview with Father Gallagher. Still no word from Gwen. She was starting to get worried. It wasn’t like Gwen. Something was going on with her. It wasn’t just exhaustion. It was something more and it bugged Maggie that she couldn’t figure it out. No, what bugged her more was that Gwen wasn’t telling her. She wondered if she should try calling her again, but Pakula was already pointing out Our Lady of Sorrow High School up ahead.

The school’s campus lived up to Maggie’s expectations of a small parochial high school. It was a series of old redbrick buildings in pristine condition despite being used since probably the early 1900s. The campus was located in central Omaha, but set off from busy intersections by huge maples that lined the property on one side and Memorial Park on the other.

It surprised Maggie that Detective Carmichael didn’t accompany them. She had seemed to be chomping at the bit to question FatherTony Gallagher again. After all, it was her digging that created the new suspicions. When Maggie asked Pakula, he threw her a look as if it was a sore subject. Then he muttered something about needing to keep an open mind. She could tell that it didn’t help matters that he had to come out here to question the priest on his turf instead of on Pakula’s. Again the detective had muttered something about “that bastard attorney” Father Gallagher had watching out for him.

But as Detective Pakula pulled in to the school parking lot, Maggie’s phone started ringing. From the caller ID she knew it was Racine. She had already missed two calls from the detective. This would be a third.

“Do you mind if I get this?” she asked Pakula. “I’ll make it quick.”

“No, go ahead.”

“Maggie O’Dell.”

“O’Dell, it’s about time,” Racine said but she sounded relieved instead of pissed, which was what Maggie had expected.

“I talked to Bonzado last night.” She thought she’d beat Racine to the punch. “He filled me in on the tattoo.”

“We have another victim,” Racine said without preface.

Maggie leaned back against the car seat. That wasn’t at all what she’d expected to hear. “It’s awfully soon.”

“It gets worse. The victim was your friend’s assistant.”

“Excuse me?”

“Dr. Patterson. The victim worked for her.”

“When did this happen? Is Gwen okay? I haven’t heard from her. Why didn’t she call me?”

A look from Pakula told Maggie she needed to calm down. He had just shut off the ignition and now waved at the school’s front door.

“I’ll wait outside for you,” he said.

“I was hoping she had talked to you,” Racine was saying as Pakula left the car. “Because she didn’t have much to say to me.”

“She was probably upset, Racine.”

“I’m sure she was, but there was something strange going on. I don’t think your friend’s being totally up front with me. I’m not sure what it is she’s not telling us, but she’s definitely holding something back.”

“That doesn’t sound like Gwen.” But Maggie already wondered if this had anything to do with Gwen’s recent demeanor. No, how could she predict something like this? That was crazy. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know her, so it’s difficult for me to tell, but I’d say she’s pretty upset. She was the one who found her.”

“Gwen found Dena? She found her…her head?”

“In the woman’s brownstone. Actually in the garbage can.”

“Jesus, Racine! Why didn’t you tell me that in the beginning?”

“She said Dena didn’t show up for work, didn’t answer any of her calls. Dr. Patterson said she went to check on her.”

Maggie couldn’t imagine what Gwen must be going through.

“This one is weird, O’Dell,” Racine said in almost a whisper. “He’s never just left them in their homes. Something doesn’t feel right about it.”

“Look, Racine, I have an interview I need to get to. Can I call you back later?” She checked her watch.

“Sure. I’ll fill you in then.”

“And Racine?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind checking on Gwen for me? Please see if she’s okay.”

“No problem. I planned to stop by her office, anyway. I’ll talk to you later.”

Maggie stared out the windshield, waiting for the tension to subside. Poor Gwen. But why hadn’t she called? No matter how upset she was, she should have called. It wasn’t like Gwen not to call.

Pakula was waiting for her, trying to pretend he didn’t mind. She locked the car door behind her. When his eyes met hers with that silent question that cops asked each other without really asking, she knew he would understand. She simply said, “A case in the District. A friend of mine just found her assistant’s decapitated head.”

“Holy crap!” He winced, but didn’t look shocked as most people might. “You need some time? We can do this later.”

“No, we’re here. Let’s do it now.”

Her phone started ringing again and she grabbed it, quickly opening it without looking at the caller ID, expecting it to be Racine, hoping it was Gwen. It was neither.

“Agent Maggie O’Dell?” asked a male voice she didn’t recognize.

“Yes?” Maggie shrugged at Pakula. He waited with his hand on the school’s front door.

“This is Father Michael Keller.”

At first she thought it had to be a joke. She brought the phone down to glance at the caller ID. But nothing had registered. Instead it read Not Available.

“Excuse me, who did you say this is?”

“I know you remember me—Father Michael Keller. I want to make a deal with you.”

Her stomach did a flip. For months after the Platte City murders she had unsuccessfully tried to track down Keller in South America. And here he was calling her as though they were old friends.

“What makes you think I would ever want to make a deal with you?”

“Because I can help you catch this priest killer.”

“Really?” So their media coverage had reached all the way to Chile, if that was where he was still hiding. “What can you possibly have that would help?”

“I’ll share that with you when I’m certain we have a deal. I’ll even bring what I have to you.”

She couldn’t believe it. Keller was offering to come back to the States. After all these years. Why would he do that?

“And why exactly are you able to help?” she asked him, keeping her voice even and calm as if she could care less that a child killer was offering to make a deal with her.

There was a long silence, and for a moment she thought she might have lost him or that he had hung up.

“Because I’m on the list.”

“What list are you referring to?” So there was a list. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he would have made the list. But how had the killer found him when she hadn’t been able to? So it was fear that had pushed him into contacting her. She restrained her urge to smile. Of course, Keller was scared. If the killer had been able to find him, there would be nothing to stop him from being eliminated.

At the mention of a list Pakula furrowed his brow, recognizing that this was about the case and stepping forward to jump in to her rescue.

“You know what list. Unless you’re further behind on solving this case than I thought.”

She could detect some anger in his voice.

“I honestly don’t think you have anything that could help us. Sorry, I’m not willing to make a deal.” She tried not to enjoy envisioning him squirming on the other end of the phone.

“So you’re not interested in who else might be on the list?”

“Excuse me?”

“I have a copy of it, of the whole list.”

“How do I know you didn’t just make it up?”

“How else would I know about Daniel Ellison? You forgot to mention him to the media.”

Her knees threatened to buckle, even before he added, “He was on the list and he’s also dead, isn’t he?” He waited, as if knowing the effect it would have when it all sank in. “I’ll bring everything I have to you…only you.”

“What is it that you want in return for your help, Father Keller?”

“Protection. And an antidote. I think he may have already poisoned me.”