The Watcher

“Yes, it is. And I hold the power of life and death—your life and death—in my hands.”

His cold, self-satisfied smile sent shivers through her.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re so very perfect.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to understand. All you need to do is die.”

She swallowed hard. He’s actually going to kill me this time. Icy fear froze her to the spot. “Do it, damn you, do it!”

The first shot hit her in her right leg. Pain. Excruciating pain. She grasped her bloody thigh as she fell to her knees. The second bullet hit her in the shoulder.

She stared at him through a haze of agonized tears and waited for the third shot.

Nothing.

“End it,” she screamed. “Please, please …”

The third shot entered her chest, but missed her heart.

The pain enveloped her, taking her over completely, becoming who she was. No longer Kendall. Only the torment she endured.

As she lay on the ground, bleeding to death, her captor approached. When she felt the tip of the rifle muzzle pressing against the back of her head, she closed her eyes and prayed for death.

The fourth and final bullet answered her prayer.

Chapter 1 (#ulink_abec8d26-c7de-592d-9055-9aaace8bd217)

He had killed before and he would kill again. Nothing could compare to the godlike feeling of such power.

For five years he had played the dying game with his cousin and their rivalry had been part of the excitement, part of the thrill. But Ruddy was dead, their wonderful game over.

His new game was only a few months old, yet he already realized that without an opponent, without the psychological stimulation of competition, it just wasn’t the same. The hunt was exhilarating, the kill a sublime climax, but the titillating pleasure of the preparation and planning as well as the triumph afterward were missing from his murder game. He now had no one with whom to share either.

He trusted no one the way he had trusted Ruddy, both of them knowing from their teens that they were different from others. Special. Superior. He could hardly run an ad in the paper for another partner, could he? Wanted: Cunning sadist to compete in a highly skilled game of hunt and kill. Winner takes all. Loser dies.

As Pudge crossed over the Arkansas border into Louisiana, heading toward Bastrop, he chuckled at the thought of advertising for an adversary.

It wouldn’t take long to reach Monroe, then he’d go on to Alexandria, where he’d hit Interstate 49, which would take him home. He might even stop for dinner somewhere along the way.

He had put a bullet into Kendall Moore’s head only three days ago and had returned her body to a secluded area just outside her hometown of Ballinger. As he had done with the others, he had taken a trophy. A little souvenir. Something to add to his growing collection.

Removing his gaze from the road momentarily, he glanced down at the small, round box nestled securely on the passenger side floorboard. Kendall had possessed a mane of short brown hair. Thick and curly. Like heavy satin to the touch.

Sighing deeply, he thought about touching her hair again, about caressing it tenderly as he recalled, over and over again, those final moments of her life.

Griffin Powell envied his old friend. Judd Walker had been to hell and back. Now, thanks to the love of a good woman, he had survived and had a wonderful life. A life that he appreciated in a way only a man who had come close to self-destructing could. Seeing the happiness in Judd’s eyes every time he looked at his wife and infant daughter, Griff knew how much Judd valued the priceless second chance he had been given.

If anyone knew about second chances, Griff did.

Judd slapped Griff on the back. “Come on outside and help me put these steaks on the grill.” He held up the tray of marinated meat in his other hand. “Cam’s got it all fired up and ready to go.”

“Just how many chefs do you need manning the grill?” Griff asked before upending his beer bottle to finish off the last drops.

Judd shrugged. “Suit yourself, but I thought you might want to get away from the ladies for a few minutes. That is, unless you’re dying to listen once again to all the details of how we decorated the nursery, went through childbirth classes together, and how I nearly fainted during Emily’s delivery.”

Griff smiled as he glanced across the room to where the visiting ladies—Rachel Carter, Cam’s latest girlfriend, and Griff’s date, Lisa Kay Smithe—sat at the kitchen table chatting with Lindsay Walker. Little Miss Emily Chisholm Walker slept soundly in her mother’s arms. Lindsay McAllister, now Lindsay Walker, had traded her Private Investigator license and 9mm for a bucolic life out in the country with her husband and baby.

Griff had never seen her happier.

Lindsay deserved to be happy. She’d earned it.

He loved her like a little sister and wanted only the best for her.

“I think I’ll leave all the baby talk to the ladies,” Griff said as he followed Judd outside and onto the patio. Judd had added the patio to the old Walker family hunting lodge that he and Lindsay had renovated shortly after their marriage last year.

Griff wasn’t much for family get-togethers and backyard barbecues. Not that he wasn’t enjoying himself today. Not that there was anywhere else he’d rather be. He could count true friends on his fingers, a short list, with Judd and Lindsay among the chosen few. Griff and Judd went back quite a few years, pre-Lindsay years. They’d been playboy pals even before Judd’s first marriage. And Judd had been buddies with Camden Hendrix since the two attended law school together. Like Griff, Cam had come from nothing and was a self-made man, while Judd came from generations of old Tennessee money. And Griff and Cam were both confirmed bachelors fast approaching their fortieth birthdays.

“How do you like your steak, Griff?” Cam asked as he took the tray from Judd and placed it on the side table by the state-of-the-art built-in grill.

Realizing that through all the years they’d known each other, this barbecue was a first for them, Griff eyed Cam with a raised eyebrow. The All-American blue-eyed, sandy-haired trial lawyer was casually dressed, wearing a white apron over his University of Tennessee T-shirt and cutoff jeans. “Medium,” Griff replied to the question.

Cam grinned. “Really? I’d have pegged you for a rare kind of guy.”

“Nope.”

“Don’t like it raw, huh?” Cam chuckled as he nodded toward the back door. “Wonder if Ms. Smithe would prefer a guy who does take it raw?”

Griff’s good-natured smile never wavered. “You’re more than welcome to ask her. But what about the lady you brought to the dance? Won’t she expect you to dance that last dance with her?”

“We could swap partners,” Cam suggested.

“Will you two stop that?” Judd glanced at the screened door that led from the patio to the screened porch. “I’m an old married man and if my wife heard such talk out of you two, she might forbid me to ever invite y’all back.”

Cam and Griff laughed out loud.

“How the mighty have fallen,” Griff said.

“He’s pussy-whipped,” Cam joked.

“Sure am,” Judd told them. “And damn proud of it.”

Griff knew that if any man on earth was devoted to his wife, Judd was. And he didn’t blame him. If a woman ever loved him the way Lindsay loved Judd …

There had been a time when they had exchanged girlfriends, had passed them around, and none of the women had objected in the least. As a matter of fact, Judd, Cam, and he had speculated that the ladies they dated were probably keeping score, comparing each man to the other two and sharing their preferences with one another. When Jennifer Mobley entered their lives, they had vied for her affection, each of them dating her in turn. Judd had won that particular prize. He’d fallen head over heels for Jenny. They were still newlyweds when Jenny had become one of the Beauty Queen Killer’s victims. That had been more than five years