Every Serial Killer…
A serial killer is stalking the streets of New Orleans. The victims are killed in a ritual fashion, a series of numbers tattooed into their bodies. There are no clues, no connections except one: a crumbling old asylum that was once the scene of unspeakable madness—and is now the calling card of a new kind of fear.
Is Searching For…
Eve Renner knows Our Lady of Virtues Hospital well. As the daughter of one of its doctors, she spent her childhood exploring its secrets chambers, hidden rooms, and forbidden passageways. Now, somewhere in the decaying asylum lies the key to a betrayal from the past whose echoes are being felt with a vengeance—a crime beyond imagining that seems to lead to Eve herself.
The Perfect Victim…
As each new body is found and forgotten, memories surface, and Eve must race to put together a deadly puzzle, one terrifying piece at a time. A killer is watching, planning, luring her back to the ruins of Our Lady and the shocking truths hidden there. For the sins of the past must be revealed, and the price paid—in blood…Chapter One
Three months later
“This is a big mistake, Eve. Big! You can’t leave yet; you’re not
ready.” Anna Maria, in a bathrobe, fuzzy slippers, and no
makeup, was chasing Eve down the driveway of her home.
“Watch me.” Eve wasn’t going to get into it with Anna again. Not
now. It was morning, barely light, the street lamps still offering some
bit of illumination as dawn crept down the manicured street of this
suburb tucked between Marietta and Atlanta. Time to leave.
Holding a cigarette in one hand and a cup of sloshing coffee in
the other, Anna somehow managed to keep up with her sister-in-law.
“You’re not through with physical therapy, you can’t remember jackshit about the night you were attacked, and for God’s sake, there’s a
rumor, probably a good one, that Cole Dennis is going to be released. Did you hear me? The man you think tried to kill you is going
At the mention of Cole’s name, Eve’s heart clutched. Just as it always did. And she ignored it. Just like she always did.
“We’ve had this argument a kazillion times. I need to get home.”
Lugging a cat carrier, Eve made her way to her Camry as Samson, her
long-haired stray, howled from within. “No matter what you think,
you’re not dying,” she assured the unhappy animal as she scrounged
in her purse for her keys with her free hand. The carrier bobbed
wildly, and Samson, freaked out of his mind, hissed loudly. She
placed the plastic crate on the driveway near the back tire of her car
as she kept searching for the damned keys.
“Don’t start.” Glancing up at her sister-in-law, Eve shook her head,
short strands of hair brushing the back of her neck. “You know I have
to leave.” She managed to slide her key ring from a side pocket, but
as she did, her cell phone, tangled in the keys, popped out of the
purse and dropped onto the concrete, landing with a sickening
smack. “Oh great!” Just what she needed; another reason for Anna,
supposedly a devout Roman Catholic but as superstitious as anyone
Eve had ever met, to find an excuse for Eve to linger. It amazed Eve
how Anna was forever seeing “curses,” “signs,” or “omens” in everyday life—so much so that Samson, being a black cat, was nearly banished from Anna and Kyle’s home.
“I saw that!” Anna announced. “God is trying to tell you something.”
“Yeah, like I need a new cell-phone carrier,” Eve muttered through
“Not funny, Eve.”
“You’re wrong. It was really funny.” She managed a smile and
looked up at her sister-in-law as dark clouds, heavy with the promise
of rain, moved slowly across a low Georgia sky. Only the slightest
breath of wind rattled the spreading branches of a magnolia tree
growing close to the drive, but it was enough to cool the sweat that
was already sprouting on Eve’s neck and spine. Picking up the phone,
she saw that the screen was still illuminated. Hitting the speakerphone button, she heard the familiar hum of a dial tone. “Still working. Guess I won’t have to switch networks.” She tucked the phone
more securely into a pocket of her purse, unlocked the door, and slid
the cat carrier onto the backseat.
“For the record, I’m against this,” Anna said, her arms crossed beneath her large breasts.
“For the record, I know.”
“You could at least wait until Kyle gets home. He just ran out for
milk and cigarettes. He’ll be back any minute.”
All the more reason to leave. Eve and her oldest brother had
never gotten along. Having her camp out at his house while recovering from a gunshot wound and trauma-induced amnesia hadn’t improved their relationship.
“You’re not talking me out of this, so don’t even try. Nita says I’m
eighty-five percent of normal, whatever that is.”
“Nita’s an idiot.” Anna Maria took a long drag on her cigarette and
shot smoke out of the side of her mouth.
“Nita’s a board-certified physical therapist.”
“What does your shrink say?”
Eve paused. “Low blow, Anna.” She’d quit going to the psychiatrist
after just three sessions. She hadn’t “clicked” with him and knew
enough about psychiatry to realize a patient had to trust in her doctor completely. She didn’t. Dr. Calvin Byrd was too guarded, too
quiet, too studious. The way he’d leaned back in his chair, pen in
hand, as she’d confided in him had given her a bad feeling. She’d felt
as if he were more interested in judging her than healing or helping
her. So she’d quit the sessions. She’d been around enough shrinks in
her lifetime to know the good from the bad. Wasn’t her own father
proof enough of that? Not to mention that she herself had been
working on her PhD in psychology before her life had been shattered at that cabin in the woods. Bottom line: no doctor should
make a patient nervous.
“He might be able to help you with your memory,” Anna argued.
“I told you, I don’t like him. End of story.”
“He’s well respected. One of the best psychiatrists in Atlanta.”
“I know.” Eve had seen all the degrees, awards, and letters of commendation so proudly displayed in Dr. Byrd’s office. “It’s personal—
just a gut feeling.” She was already walking back to the house, to the
breezeway, where her luggage was stacked. Eve passed by her brother’s
work van—a dirty paneled truck with the predictable words WASH ME
scribbled into the dust on the back windows. Obviously he’d taken
his Porsche for his morning run to the store. “Look, Anna, I’m not arguing about this anymore. You can either help me load up the car or
stand there and rant and rave to no good end. So what’s it going to
“This is nuts, Eve.”
Eve smiled gently. “Oh, come on. Things aren’t that bad.”
“Not that bad? For the love of God! When did you become such a
Pollyanna? You were shot. Shot! The bullet hit your shoulder and ricocheted to your temple, and your brain was bruised. Bruised. You
didn’t end up dead or paralyzed or God only knows what else, but
pul-eeze don’t tell me things aren’t bad. I know better.” Anna took a
long drag on her cigarette and glared at her sister-in-law over the
glowing tip. “You were almost killed. By that son of a bitch you
thought you might marry! C’mon, Eve. Things are definitely ‘that
bad’ and probably a helluva lot worse. The problem is, you just can’t
Done with arguing, Eve picked up a duffel bag and her computer
case, then started hauling them back to the Camry, where Samson
was crying loud enough to wake the dead. Yes, she had big holes in
her memory. But her amnesia wasn’t complete. She did recall bits from
that night. Painful little shards that cut through her brain. She remembered being late. She remembered seeing Roy lying on the floor,
bleeding out, barely hanging on to life. She remembered the bloody
number 212 scrawled on the wall. She remembered reaching for her
cell phone, hesitating, her fingers shaking too badly to dial, dropping
the damned thing, seeing NO SERVICE in bold letters against a glowing
LCD. She remembered seeing the gun leveled through the window before it went off. And she remembered blood. Everywhere. Splattered
on the wall, pooling on the floor, making the touch pad of her cell
phone sticky, oozing from Roy’s neck and forehead . . .
She closed her eyes for a second and drew a long breath. Guilt,
ever lurking, loomed again. Deep, dark and deadly. It ate at her at
night. Cut through her dreams. If only she’d been at the cabin earlier
as she’d promised, if only she hadn’t hesitated or dropped her
phone before dialing 911, her friend Roy might still be alive. . . .
Shaking inside, she opened her eyes to the somber morning. The
clouds overhead seemed even more ominous.
“The doctors think my memory will return,” Eve said as she
reached her car and tossed the duffel onto the floor of the backseat.
She slid her computer next to the cat carrier. She noticed Samson,
pupils dilated, glaring through the tiny windows of the crate.
“Maybe getting your memory back isn’t a good thing.”
Boy, was Anna on a tear this morning. First one side of the argument, then the other. Eve tossed her purse onto the front passenger
seat then turned to find her sister-in-law standing within inches of
“Aren’t you the one who told me that the brain shuts down be
cause of trauma, to protect itself?” Anna pushed her long hair from
her eyes. She was close enough that Eve smelled the smoke and coffee on her breath, the hint of perfume clinging to her skin. “Maybe
you don’t want to know what happened.”
“I want to know,” Eve responded evenly.
Across the street, a door opened. In a striped terry robe and slippers, a balding man pushing eighty stepped onto his porch and shot
a glance their way from behind thick glasses. He sketched out a wave
then bent to retrieve his newspaper.
“Morning, Mr. Watters,” Anna said, waving back as her neighbor
scanned the headlines and disappeared inside. She lowered her
voice and moved closer to Eve. “I’m just asking you to wait. A week.
Maybe two. ’Til you’re stronger, and maybe by then we’ll know what
Cole is up to. Stay here until we’re certain you’re safe.”
Eve had already started up the drive again. “Besides, I’m thinking
of getting a dog ...a puppy.”
Anna Maria took a final hit on her Virginia Slim and sent it to the
concrete of the driveway, where she stomped the butt out with her
pink mule. “A puppy? Like that’ll keep the bad guys at bay!”
“I’m talking about a really, really tough puppy.”
There wasn’t the slightest hint of humor in Anna’s worried eyes.
“Look, Eve, you can laugh and make light about this all you want, but
the bottom line is: someone tried to kill you.”
“I was at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Anna tossed her an exasperated look. “You think it was Cole. You
were going to testify that he shot you. And now . . . now they expect
him to be released from prison. The whole case against him has
fallen apart. But that doesn’t mean he won’t come after you. He did
before, didn’t he? When he was out on bail? He called. Planned to
meet with you, and you, being some kind of idealistic numbskull,
were actually going to see him! What the hell were you thinking?”
Eve’s stomach knotted. The headache that never seemed to quite
go away began to beat slowly inside her skull. She didn’t want to
think about all this again.
“Cole thought you were having an affair. Probably with Roy.”
Anxiety clamped over Eve’s lungs. The truth of the matter was
that she couldn’t remember. Her headache thundered. “Damn it all.”
She found her purse in the car, scrounged through a zippered
pocket, came up with a nearly empty bottle of ibuprofen, and tossed
two pills into her mouth. “I told you, I don’t want to rehash this. I’m
done arguing.” She grabbed Anna’s cup and washed down the
tablets with a swallow of tepid, milky coffee. “God, this is awful.”
Anna snagged her cup.
Feeling a tic develop beneath her eye, Eve sensed another panic
attack in the making. Her heart was racing, and she felt as if her lungs
were strapped by steel bands.
Not now. Not here. A full-blown anxiety attack will only add fuel to
Anna Maria’s you-aren’t-ready-to-leave fire.... One . . . Breathe! . . .
Two . . . Think calm thoughts.... Three . . . Slow your heartbeat....
By the time she reached ten, she was taking normal breaths again,
but Anna was watching her closely. “I gotta go.” Eve grabbed her
makeup kit, not that it would do much good. Her face was still a bit
puffy, the plastic surgery around her right eye not quite healed. She
placed the makeup bag beside the cat carrier, then turned to reach
for her large roller-bag.
“Okay, fine. Hey! No! Stop! For God’s sake, don’t lift that. Just wait
a sec, will ya?” Anna set her cup down then grabbed Eve’s roller-bag.
“Jesus, this weighs a ton. What’ve you got in here, lead weights?”
Eve smiled faintly. “At least you didn’t say a dead body.”
“I thought about it.”
“I know you did.”
From within the interior of the car came the pitiful sound of a cat
who thought he was being tortured. “Won’t that drive you nuts?”
“Probably.” Eve flipped up the lid of the trunk. “But I’ll survive.”
“You know you’re impossible, don’t you? As stubborn as your
brothers.” Anna refused Eve’s help as she hoisted the bag into the
trunk. “And don’t give me any of that crap about you not being from
the same genetic pool as Kyle and Van. It doesn’t matter. You were all
raised under the same roof, and that’s why you’re all so bullheaded.”