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lives down in Fullerton. Do you think it would be wise if I took the children and stayed with her until this thing blows over?” She sounded more like a child begging to go to the circus than a panicked mother striving to protect her children.

“I don’t see any need for that, Mrs. Fitts,” McPherson answered slowly. “We don’t feel as though the murderer is the kind of person who is apt to strike again. Actually, for you and your neighbors to panic would create more danger than anything else.”

“Well, if you say so, but you can rest assured my children won’t leave my sight until that animal is caught.”

McPherson could see by the tense set of the woman’s jaw that there was no use in arguing further. She couldn’t help but wonder, though, which was more important to her—her children’s welfare or a trip to her mother’s.

She stood up and walked to the door. “Thank you for you time, and I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”

Karl followed close behind her and released the latch. “Good night, Lieutenant. Sorry we couldn’t be of more help, but—,” then his words were cut off by a sharp scream.

“That sounded like it came from the Turner house!”

McPherson didn’t wait to answer. She ran across the street, calling to Taylor as she ran.

Karl watched for a moment, undecided as to what to do, then shouted back to Marla to lock the door and keep it locked, and took off after the officers.

McPherson banged on Dan Turner’s door, yelling for him to open up. It was several more minutes before Dan answered, heavy-lidded from the sedatives he’d just taken.

“What the hell happened, Turner? Who screamed?” McPherson demanded.

“My wife,” the man answered vaguely. “She woke up and went to the boys’ bedroom. For some reason, Seth had climbed into Charlie’s bed, and for a moment she thought he was gone too. I got her back to bed. That’s what took me so long, but everything’s fine now.”

“Thank God,” Karl breathed. “Would you like for me to stay with you a little while?”

Dan rubbed his bleary eyes. “Thanks, but we’ll be all right. I gave her a second pill, so that should be kicking in soon. Then we can hopefully get some sleep.”

Karl started back to his house, but called back over his shoulder, “Alright, but call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Dan answered, then turned to face the officers.

“We’ll let you get back to bed, Mr. Turner, but just know that there will be patrol cars circling the block all night, so you don’t have to worry about anything.”

Turner nodded and closed the door. McPherson and Taylor walked back to the patrol car.

“I don’t even know that Seth kid, but I’d gladly boot him one,” Taylor said.

“Hold your tongue,” McPherson answered grimly. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

The two officers stepped into the car, and Taylor started the engine. “Where to?”

“Back to headquarters. Maybe they know something we don’t. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Taylor didn’t bother answering, just put the car in drive and started down the deserted street.

IV

Harry Valentine stood watching as Lieutenant McPherson went down the walk and got into the patrol car. There was tension apparent in every sinew of his slender body. Hayley looked on with concern. It had been nearly three years since the last time he had that look about him. It was the same reaction he had to any officer of the law, and it meant that his old fear of being blamed for something had returned.

“Come sit down, Harry,” she said softly. “Standing there isn’t going to help anything.”

He turned, his face wrought with tension, and began pacing back and forth in the room.

“They’ll find out. They’ll look up a record of every damn person in the neighborhood, and when they learn I’ve done time, they’ll make me into their scapegoat.”

Hayley watched her husband’s hands shake as he lit a cigarette. It was a lesser evil, because so long as she concentrated on his hands she didn’t have to notice the impotence in his eyes.

“They sent you away for robbery, not murder. There isn’t any reason for them to think you killed some kid you hardly even knew.”

The words were somewhat reassuring, but her voice lacked conviction. For the past few years she’d refused to let herself think of the time Harry had spent in prison. Instead, she preferred to pretend it never happened. But now with the police hunting down a murderer, the past was sure to reassert itself upon the present and, if Harry’s suspicions were right, determine their future.

“Don’t be a fool,” Harry lashed out. “Once you take a hit, you’re on their list forever. None of those cops would even think about giving me the benefit of the doubt.”

Hayley narrowed her eyes at him cynically. In that moment he was no more than a stranger to her. Just a skinny, frightened little boy, with nothing more than a superficial resemblance to the man she thought she married. Strange that she never before noticed that look in his eyes. Once, many years ago, she had approached a dog that had been struck by a car, and his eyes had held the same questioning, uncomprehending terror.

“Why did that damn kid have to go and get himself killed?” he whined. “I was careful to make sure nobody around here knew anything about my past, then he had to go and get himself killed. Couldn’t just stay in bed where he belonged.”

“Harry,” Hayley gasped, “don’t you realize the child is dead? You’re acting as though he’d done it just to irritate you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” he muttered, crushing the butt of his cigarette before lighting another. Then he resumed his pacing.

“Look, I’m sorry the kid got killed, but that’s just it. He’s dead, but I’m still alive. I’m the one who has to worry about being locked up or sent to the chair. Crying and feeling sorry for him won’t make

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