A horn honking behind him brought Jacob back to the present moment. He glanced through his partially defrosted back window and saw Royce Pierpont, in his silver Lexus sedan, throw up a hand and wave at him. Jacob returned the wave. Why was Royce bothering to open up his antique shop today? Jacob wondered. There wouldn’t be any tourists in town with weather like this, and probably not many locals either.
Jacob shifted the gear into reverse, backed up, and headed down the street, going slow and easy over the thin sheet of ice still clinging to the asphalt.
A large brick structure that had been built in the early twentieth century and modernized from time to time, the Congregational Church was on the corner of Monroe and Highland. Jacob parked his truck, got out, and headed up the sidewalk. Policemen swarmed like bees inside and out. Looked like the entire Cherokee Pointe police department was here.
Chief Watson met Jacob in the vestibule the minute he entered the building. “Glad you’re here,” he said. “It’s a bloody mess in there.”
“Bobby Joe said you mentioned that this murder was similar to Susie Richards’—”
“Another sacrificial killing,” Watson said. “I saw the pictures of Susie Richards your department took, but I’m telling you that unless you see it for real, you can’t imagine how bad it is.”
“Mind if I take a look?” Jacob steeled himself to view another horrific crime scene.
Chief Watson led Jacob into the sanctuary. Morning sunlight flooded through the stained-glass windows, casting bright rainbows over the wooden pews with their red velvet seats.
“She’s up here, on the altar,” Watson said.
“Hmm.”
Several members of the forensic crew busied themselves gathering evidence. Jacob moved closer, took a quick look, and glanced away.
“Cindy Todd.”
The mayor’s wife lay naked atop the altar, her calves and feet hanging off the end, a gaping wound from breasts to pubic area glistening with blood and exposed entrails.
“It’s enough to turn a man’s stomach,” Watson said, his face pale and sweaty.
“Has anyone contacted Jerry Lee?” Jacob asked.
“I called him right before I called you. Told him to come down to the police department, but I didn’t give him any specifics. Just told him it was important.”
“He came by my office early this morning looking for her.”
“You don’t reckon Jerry Lee could have—”
“Not his style,” Jacob said. “He’d have either shot her or beat the hell out of her. Besides, this has all the earmarks of being identical to Susie Richards’ murder.”
“You think we got ourselves a serial killer here in Cherokee Pointe?”
Jacob shook his head. “Too soon to make that kind of judgment. Could be some sort of cult thing.”
“You mean one of them devil-worshiping cults?”
“Just a possibility.” Jacob glanced around and quickly spotted the church’s new minister and his wife huddled together toward the back of the sanctuary, a police officer speaking to them. “Who found the body?”
“Reverend Stowe,” Watson said. “The guy’s pretty shook up, but then who wouldn’t be?”
“What’s his wife doing here?”
“After he called us from his office down the hall there”—Watson indicated the location of the office with a nod of his head—“he went back home and waited for us. He and Mrs. Stowe came back over here together.”
Jacob studied the Stowes for a moment before turning his attention to the chief. “I think we probably need some help. Neither your department nor mine is equipped to handle this sort of crime, especially not now that there have been two identical murders.”
“Don’t go putting us down,” Watson said. “I’ve got no intention of calling in outside help. Not yet.”
“Do you think your department can handle this case if it turns out we’re dealing with a serial killer?”
“Hellfire, Jacob, I thought you said it was probably a devil-worshiping cult.”
“I don’t know for sure. And that’s the problem. I’m new at this job, and my experience in matters like this is nil. The resources of the Cherokee County Sheriff’s Department is limited. And I’m not too proud to ask for help when I need it.”
“Then, boy, you go ahead and call for help. I don’t need any. I’ve been police chief for fifteen years. I know my way around a murder investigation.”
Jacob knew better than to argue with Roddy Watson, the stubborn, narrow-minded, ignorant son of a bitch. “Whatever you say.”
Just as Jacob turned to leave, Jerry Lee Todd came storming into the church. When several policemen tried to stop him, he shoved them aside and when they moved to over-power him, Chief Watson motioned for them to leave the mayor alone. Jerry Lee ran toward the altar.
“Hold up there,” Watson called. “You don’t want to do this.”
“Is it her?” Jerry Lee asked. “Is it my Cindy?”
“Yeah, it’s Cindy,” Watson replied. “Believe me, Jerry Lee, you do not want to—”
“What happened? Is she really dead?” Jerry Lee barreled past the forensic team, taking no heed of their requests for him not to disturb the scene.
Jerry Lee skidded to a halt when he saw his wife’s mutilated body. “Cindy! Oh, God, Cindy!”
“Hell,” Watson murmured.
Jacob rushed forward and grabbed Jerry Lee’s shoulder, stopping him from getting any closer to Cindy’s body. Jerry Lee spun around, grief and fury in his eyes. “Let me go, damn you. I’ve got to see her, talk to her, touch her.”
“No,” Jacob said. “What you’ve got to do is let the police do their job so they can find the person responsible.”
“You can’t stop me. That’s my wife.” Jerry Lee jerked away from Jacob. “I have every right to—”
Jacob drew back his fist and clipped Jerry Lee on the temple. The mayor dropped like dead weight tossed into the river. Turning to Chief Watson, Jacob said, “Get a couple of your boys to take him home and stay with him until he calms down.”
“He’s going to be mad as hell when he comes to,” Watson said. “But you did what you had to do.”
Jacob nodded. “You know where to reach me if you need me.”
He left the murder scene, left behind the cocky, stupid police chief, and took a lot of unanswered questions with him.
Esther Stowe held her husband’s hands tightly in hers as they stood at the back of the sanctuary. They had answered questions repeatedly for the past hour and still they weren’t allowed to leave. They’d been told the chief would want to verify a few things. Esther wasn’t sure how much longer Haden could hold himself together. Her husband wasn’t emotionally strong. If not for her strength, he wouldn’t be the man he was today.
Sometimes she regretted having married such a weakling and longed for a man who was her equal. No one would ever guess, seeing Haden and her together, that she was the dominant partner. To the world they presented a rather amusing facade,