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“Yeah, I heard something about that. Feel free to come to my place, I’m sure I have some books I could donate,” he said.

“Thanks, we’ll do that.”

Minutes later he was gone, and it was time for her to close up the shop and head home. She locked the door and turned off all the lights except one spotlight that shone down on the register.

She counted the cash and added up the card transactions and then compared everything with the sales for the day. Satisfied that the numbers all matched, she wrote out a bank deposit slip. She would drive through the bank and make the deposit on her way home.

As she finished up, her thoughts went back to Jackson Scott. In the next day or two, she and Jacque would be visiting with the man to talk about Jacque’s program and give her a chance to search for her mother’s book in his home.

She was aware that her plan to catch the killer had flaws. Two-story homes were impossible to search. There was also the possibility that the book wasn’t even in a drawer at all.

However, she was hoping and praying that somehow, someway, she’d stumble on the book in one of the places they were searching and the murderer would be unmasked. She needed that to happen so badly. She desperately needed the closure.

She finally turned off the last light and then headed for the back exit, her knife gripped firmly in her hand. Her car was parked just outside the back door.

It was only after she was in the vehicle with all the doors locked that she set the knife down in the passenger seat next to her purse. She was taking her safety very seriously since receiving the note on her door.

The night was unusually dark with just a sliver of the moon visible. A layer of thick fog added to the lack of visibility, slowing her drive to the swamp.

She yawned and fought against a wave of exhaustion. It had been a long day, and she was looking forward to getting home and going to bed.

Tomorrow she was on duty to open the store and work until two, and then she and Jacque would continue their work. She always looked forward to spending more time with him. Each time they were together, she tried to find the key that would make him really open up to her.

She finally reached the swamp entrance and parked. She got out of the car with her knife once again gripped tightly in her hand. She walked briskly, listening to make sure nobody was on the path with her.

A few minutes later she breathed a sigh of relief as she reached her shanty door. Once inside, she turned on a few of the lanterns in the living room and then carried one into the bedroom. She placed the knife on her nightstand and then took off the clothes she’d worn to work and hung them in her closet.

She pulled on a hot pink nightshirt and then returned to the living room. She was a bit hungry but didn’t want to cook. But she hadn’t eaten all day and knew she wanted something. She finally settled for some crackers and cheese. She sat on the sofa to eat them, and as she did, her thoughts went over the past week.

She and Jacque had cleared another five houses without incident. There were only three names left on their list, although she’d already thought of a couple more to add.

Was she adding names to the list so she could continue to see Jacque? She knew once she quit going to homes the odds were good that she would never see him again except in passing.

She wasn’t sure of the answer and in any case, she was too tired to think anymore. She finished eating and then returned the leftover crackers to the kitchen.

Finally, she turned off all the lanterns except the one she’d carried back into her bedroom. Once she was settled in bed, she turned that one off. Other than a faint illumination that drifted through her window, the room was plunged in darkness. The sound of croaking frogs competed with the faint sound of insects, creating a lullaby she heard every night. It was familiar and soothing, and she fell asleep almost immediately.

She was awakened a bit later by a hard knock on her front door. She glanced at her phone on the nightstand next to her. Ten thirty. It was possible it might be one of her sisters, but she doubted it. They never came by this late, and they would have called first.

She grabbed her knife from her nightstand, turned on the lantern and carried it into the living room. She lit several more lanterns, and then gripping the knife firmly in her hand, she called out to ask who it was.

Not receiving an answer but still curious, she eased open her front door.

Nobody was there. She looked around but didn’t see anyone. She was about to close her door when she saw a small box on her porch. It was the size of a jewelry box. She looked around once again and then bent down to pick it up.

Out of her peripheral vision, she saw a dark shape rushing toward her.

The person, all in black and wearing a mask, slammed into her body with enough force to knock her off the porch and to the ground. Before she could get up, the person kicked her. Again and again, the kicks hit her in her ribs, forcing the breath out of her as pain racked her body.

In an effort to protect herself, she curled up in a fetal position as sobs escaped her. She’d dropped her knife when the attacker rammed into her, and now she had nothing to use for her own protection.

She tried to scream, but the sounds that left her were more like kitten mewls. She didn’t have enough air in her lungs to really scream and her ribs were on fire.

She needed to get up. Somehow, she needed to stand up and fight back, but the constant kicks to her body made it impossible for her to rise.

Finally, the kicks stopped. Before she could catch her breath, the attacker began pummeling her around the head. One particular blow landed on the side of her chin, and stars momentarily danced in her head.

If she didn’t do something, she feared she would be beaten to death. Despite the agonizing pain that torched through her, in spite of being hit over and over again, she began to crawl toward the porch. Inch by painful inch, she crawled. Hopefully the attacker hadn’t seen her knife. And hopefully she could find it and use it to halt the beating once and for all.