In the meantime, he had this lesser woman, this Nancy Jo Norris, to do final honor.

He took the golden goblet that he had cupped between her folded hands on her breasts. “You’re released, Nancy Jo. Take flight.” He bent and kissed her lingeringly on the lips. She was already turning cool as her soul departed. “Have you forgiven me yet? Do you realize the gift I’ve given you?”

They were the questions he asked every time but to no avail. He must be patient. Someday, one of them would give him that reassurance.

Perhaps Eve Duncan…

One final duty that was always pure pleasure.

“Nancy Jo Norris.” He lifted the goblet to his lips, his gaze once more on the night sky and the cold, sharp sliver of moon. “Gift to Gift.”

He drained the goblet.

THE CRESCENT MOON WAS bright and cold, tossing its icy glitter over the sleeping fields that bordered the highway leading toward the Atlanta airport.

Cold? Why had that word suddenly occurred to her, Eve wondered. She was on her way to pick up her adopted daughter, Jane, arriving from Paris, and until a few minutes ago she had been filled with warmth and excitement.

She was being foolish. She was still filled with that same love and excitement. This chill was only because it was the middle of the night and probably a carryover from the last few days Joe and she had spent in the swamp tracking down that monster, Henry Kistle. It had been a nightmare period when the serial killer had taken a little girl hostage to lure Eve to come after him. She could do nothing else when he had lied to her and told her that he was the one who had killed her little girl, Bonnie, all those years ago. The nightmare had taken on gigantic proportions when they discovered the island on which dozens of murdered children had been buried. Yes, that was enough to chill anyone to the bone.