The Lesson of Her Death by Jeffery Deaver Page B

the Sunshine Man might not be able to read the note. Then she decided that because he was a wizard he could probably figure most of it out.
    Sarah folded the paper and wrote his name on the outside. She put on her jacket then she paused. She opened the note and added some words at the bottom.
    Im sorry I dont’ spell good. Im realy sorry
.
    Then she snuck out the back door into the windy night and ran all the way to the circle of rocks.
    The deputy showed up at eight-thirty almost to the second. He was young pink-scrubbed beefy eager and he wore on his hip a combat-gripped .357 Colt Python witha six-inch vented barrel. He was, in short, everything a husband could want to protect his wife and kids.
    “Morning, Tom.” Corde picked up the
Register
from the driveway and held the screen door open for the deputy.
    “Howdy, Detective. Nice house you got here.”
    Corde introduced him to the family. Diane offered him some coffee. He declined regretfully as if this were a slap at her cooking.
    The deputy retreated to the comfort of his Dodge watchtower parked in the driveway and the family sat down to breakfast. Jamie and Diane were talking about something, animated, near to an argument. Sarah sat quietly but was overjoyed at the news that she could stay home from school today. (“Only today, mind you, one day, just one, but no more absences for the rest of the year, you understand, young lady?”—Oh, yes, and how many times had they said the same thing?)
    Corde wasn’t listening to his wife and son and he wasn’t observing his daughter’s elation because he was reading a short article in the
Register
and he was shocked.
    Cult Suspected in Auden Co-ed Murder
    He set his coffee on the table and knocked the syrup over. He didn’t notice it fall. Diane glanced at him, frowning, and righted the bottle.
    …
Sheriff’s Department investigators are looking into the possibility that a cult or religious killer may be stalking the town of New Lebanon
.…
    His eyes jumped through the article.
    …
and robbery was not a motive. Because she was killed on the night of the first quarter of the moon, there has been speculation that Miss Gebben may have been a sacrifice victim, possibly one in a chain of such killings. Sources close to the Sheriff’s Department also disclosed that death threats have been made against its personnel
.…
    Threats plural?
    …
Sheriff Steve Ribbon stated emphatically, however,that they would in no way impede the investigation. “We aren’t going to be bullied by these people, whoever they are, however sick they might be,” Ribbon said. “We have some strong leads and we’re pursuing them real hard.”
    “Damn,” Corde muttered, bringing an end to breakfast table arguments and meditations on freedom. He looked over the paper to find his family staring at him.
    “What is it, hon?”
    He handed Diane the article and told the children it was nothing. Jamie glanced over his mother’s shoulder as she read.
    “A cult?” he asked.
    Diane finished the article. Jamie picked it up and continued to read.
    His wife asked him, “What’s wrong with the story? I don’t get it.”
    “Too much publicity,” he muttered. “I think it’s best to play cases like this close to your chest.”
    “I suppose,” she said, and began clearing away dishes.
    Corde stood to fetch his gunbelt but before he left the kitchen he glanced at his wife. She was intent on dishes and seemed to have missed what was so troubling to him—that this story was a huge sign for the killer, which said, in the vernacular of Steve Ribbon,
You may’ve threatened Corde but no matter. He’s going ahead full steam and he don’t give a good goddamn about your threats. You do your worst, you aren’t stopping our boy Bill
.
    They wouldn’t go so far as to blurt out, “I was at a frat party” or “I was on a date the night it happened” or “You can ask anyone, I didn’t even
see
her that night” even though that’s what they wanted