Kay Hooper - Blood Sins

DeMarco, Sawyer saw was more stony-faced than usual but otherwise seemed the same, the habitual faint smile meaningless.

"Just tell us what you need," Samuel said smoothly.

Sawyer looked back over his shoulder, relieved to see that Robin was standing by the driver's door of her Jeep, as instructed, the bulk of the vehicle between her and whatever might happen here near the steps of the church. Her face was, finally, inscrutable.

And about damn time too.

Quentin was leaning negligently against the passenger door, looking quite unlike himself in the deputy's uniform, hat, and mirrored sunglasses that Sawyer had always disliked seeing on his officers. And, beyond him, Galen had taken a couple of steps away from the Jeep and was looking around with apparent idleness.

Bishop had his back to the group near the church steps; he and Hollis, both hatless and without sunglasses but otherwise dressed as Grace police officers, appeared to be talking casually, with Hollis turned just enough so that no one on the steps could see her face.

It was a very relaxed scene, as intended. And the few church members who had noticed something going on and come to see what it was appeared merely curious and rather wary but not upset.

Good. Good. Everything low-key and casual. And leisurely. Because they had to have time for everyone to get in position. That was the tricky part. The timing.

Almost ready.

Thunder rumbled.

Stall Tessa's voice, faint but clear. I need just a few more minutes .

Sawyer felt a jab of cold panic.

"We'd like to take a look around," he said to Reverend Samuel, hoping to hell he sounded calmer than he felt. "Talk to your people. We need to know who last saw Sarah. We need to find out if anyone has any information they may not realize is important." Deliberately, he added, "You know the drill. We've been through this before, Reverend."

"We have nothing to hide, Chief, I do assure you." Samuel glanced up at the lowering sky, adding mildly, "Though we might, perhaps, be well advised to take this discussion indoors."

Either he was another superb liar or else he really didn't sense a threat. Which meant that DeMarco's dampening fieldand possibly Sawyer'swas having the desired effect. But Sawyer's feeling of triumph was cut short when they all heard another vehicle coming up the neat graveled drive. He turned without even thinking about it, staring at the gleaming black sedan as it pulled up near the police Jeeps.

Jesus, not now. Who the hell?

A chauffeur who looked like a cross between a navy SEAL and a retired heavyweight boxer slid from the driver's seat and, expressionless, opened the car's back door.

Senator Abe LeMott stepped out.

OH, SHIT. Definitely not part of the plan.

Sawyer had certainly never met the senator, but he recognized him instantly; LeMott's face had been all over the news the previous summer. His face, and his wife'suntil she had committed suicide not long after the savage murder of their daughter, Annie.

A murder investigated by a task force led by Bishop. A murder that had been, tragically, only one of many during that hot Boston summer. Her murderer had escaped the city but had not, in the end, escaped the determined efforts of Bishop, the SCU, and Haven operatives.

Not that all that had made it into media reports, but certainly the capture of a vicious serial killer had been reported.

And there was plenty of evidence that he was, indeed, the Boston serial. Some of that evidence had been leaked to the media, and few had any doubt at all of his guilt.

So what was Senator Abe LeMott doing herenow?

Before Sawyer could ask that baffling question, Galen said roughly, "LeMott, you should not be here."

The senator looked at him with mild curiosity, glanced at a silent Bishop, then fixed his gaze on Samuel.

"I wanted to meet you," he said, his voice both courteous and cold. "To look into your eyes. Before you're destroyed, I want to know what kind of man could so easily kill."

Samuel smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about, Senator. I'm a man of God."

"You're a monster. Worse than that creature you kept on a leash while he killed for you. Man of God?" LeMott drew a breath and released it in a sound of unutterable disgust. "God won't have you, Samuel. Hell won't have you."

"Senator, you have my deepest sympathy. The loss of your daughter and your wife must be almost beyond bearing."

LeMott's face hardened.

Oh, Christ. He's going to do something . Sawyer didn't know what, but he was very much afraid that what was left of their careful plan was about to be scattered to hell and gone.

"Samuel, I don't believe you have an ounce of sympathy in what passes for your soul. In fact, I don't believe you have a soul. I'd feel more reluctance to put a mad dog out of its misery than I feel in ridding the world of you."

"Senator." His smile widened as Samuel shook his head. "Did you really believe it would be so easy?"

He lifted one hand in a quick, practiced gesture.

With shocking suddenness, the chauffeur who had stood so still and silent near LeMott was lifted off his feet as though an invisible rope were attached to his body. He literally flew backward for yards, until he slammed into a parked car with so much force the hood of the vehicle was nearly bisected. The chauffeur stiffened for only an instant and then slumped, his hand slipping out of the lapel of his jacket, the gun he held falling to the ground.

Beneath the crumpled hood of the car, blood trickled onto pristine gravel.

"God's punishment for the wicked," Samuel said.

Of all the people in the Square, LeMott appeared least surprised. The senator turned his head to look toward his dead man, then his gaze returned to Samuel's face.

"Freeze!"

Sawyer nearly jumped out of his skin, and even as he absorbed the ridiculous command, he knew he had made a horrible mistake in bringing Robin along on this "operation."

"Robin," he said, "don't"

She didn't fly backward as the chauffeur did. But her weapon clattered against the hood of the Jeep, she let out a strangled cry that chilled Sawyer to the bone, and then she went down.

By the time he got to her, she was already gone, her face contorted in agony and wide eyes going white.

He rose slowly to his feet, numbly aware of the frozen tableau around him. So fast. It had all happened so damn fast.

Sawyer. It isn't over. And he'll go on killing unless we stop him now. Here.

"Poor thing," Samuel said, his voice as smooth and pleasant as always. "Poor little thing. I wonder what she did to earn God's wrath. Can you tell me, Chief?"

His eyes were beginning to glow.

"No." Sawyer took a step toward the church. Then another.

Thunder rumbled, louder now. The storm was closer. He stared at Samuel. "I can't tell you that. She was a good officer. She was a good person." The choked sound of his own voice was hardly professional, and he didn't give a shit.

"Such a shame. You have my sympathy."

Sawyer glanced at LeMott, understanding in that moment the other man's icy rage. The senator was motionless, expressionless.

Thunder rumbled again, and a chilly breeze sprang up. A flash of lightning crackled across the dark, heavy clouds.

Almost time, Sawyer. We're almost ready.

Samuel tilted his head to one side suddenly, an alertness stealing over his benign features. "Someone's talking," he remarked softly.

It wasn't time for Samuel to become aware of what was happening. Sawyer knew it, knew they weren't yet ready, knew Tessa wasn't ready.

Their plan was in tatters, and all he could think to do was draw his weapon and