“The addresses are spread out over thirty miles,” Nevada said. “I suggest we begin up north at 213 Galloway Lane. That’s where Susan and her mother lived at the time of her attack. It’s where she still lives.”

“She never left?”

“No.”

Macy gathered her belongings and, thanks to too much coffee, excused herself to the restroom before she reappeared to find Nevada waiting by the front door. She nodded to Deputy Sullivan on the way out and followed Nevada to his older black SUV.

She set her backpack on the back seat, dug out her yellow legal pad and a pen, and then slid into the passenger seat. The interior of the car was neat, and his supplies were carefully stored in bins in the back. Unlike in her vehicle, there were no stray french fries or candy bar wrappers on the floor.

Behind the wheel, Nevada slid on sunglasses and started the engine. A glance in his rearview mirror, and he began to back out. He reached for the radio, turning on a country western station. She played music constantly, but her choices tended toward loud, rude rock music.

He turned right and then made a quick left onto the interstate. “The Oswald house exit is ten miles north.”

“Did you get back to Deep Run often when you were with the bureau?” she asked.

“I visited when I could, but you know how the job is. I was lucky to get a break once a year.”

“Sounds familiar,” she said.

“Did you get to see your folks much?”

“After my mother passed, I never returned to Alexandria until the bureau sent me back. Visits to see Pop in Texas were rare.”

“I remember your father calling you in Kansas City.”

“He called more that last year than he ever had. Must have known the end was close.”

“And he never told you about your birth mother?” Nevada asked.

“Only in a message from the grave.”

“Why not?”

“My birth father, the monster, was still alive. I think Pop was afraid for me. The man who raped my birth mother had money and power.”

“Your father thought this man would retaliate against you?”

“I suppose so.”

“He was trying to protect you,” Nevada said.

“In his way, yes.”

Once they were a couple of miles north of Deep Run, the interstate skimmed through open farmland dotted with billboards. “Do you still have your place in DC?” Macy asked.

“I do,” Nevada said. “But I’ve spent less than a handful of nights in the DC place during the last three years.”

They passed a rolling pasture with a herd of cows grazing beside a red barn. Macy had lived in slower-paced communities during her career, but preferred the larger cities so full of much-needed distractions. “And you really like it here?”

“It’s growing on me.” He shrugged. “I’ve been sleeping in the same bed for the past five months straight and recognizing everyone I pass on the street.”

“And here I am busting my ass to get back in the fray.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“Don’t be too quick to judge. I’m still not convinced you’ll stay here in Mayberry after this case is solved. You were one of the best.”

“I could have worked Ellis’s case without leaving the bureau. I left for several reasons. Like an old FBI agent once told me, you got to know when to fold.”

She dropped her head back against the headrest. “Jesus, Nevada, now you’re quoting country western songs.”

He laughed. “I didn’t die, Macy. I’ve shifted gears.”

“To what, reverse?”

“To a path that doesn’t always lead into darkness.”

As they approached the upcoming exit, he slowed and took the westward route along a four-lane road that quickly narrowed to two. They passed more fields dotted with farmhouses, cows, and lots of nothingness. It was too damn far from civilization.

Nevada and Macy had been running in opposite directions since they had met.

“This is Ms. Oswald’s house,” Nevada said.

“We didn’t pass any cameras or gas stations, so it’s easy to drive out here at night without being seen,” Macy said.

“Around the bend ahead, there’s a community with a handful of homes, so there’s some traffic coming and going along the road. The people who live there are working class. They’re up before the sun and generally home after it sets.”

The first victim was attacked in June of 2004. “Do you know who lived in that small community fifteen years ago?”

“No one under the age of seventy.”

“Just because a man looks like your sweet grandpa doesn’t mean he’s not our guy.”

“I ran background checks on them all. No one living in the small enclave has ever been arrested or had complaints filed against them.”

“Neither has our offender.” She drummed her finger on her thigh. “And what about family members who visited grandpa or technicians servicing the properties? There was enough traffic that someone noticed Ms. Oswald.”

“Agreed.” He parked in front of a one-story brick rancher. The grass was neatly cut, and a flower bed was filled with a thick collection of winter pansies, but there were no tall shrubs or bushes around the house. Beside the house was a small detached garage.

Nevada shut off the engine. His jaw tightened as he surveyed the area. “She was seventeen at the time of the attack and lived here with her mother. They couldn’t afford to leave, so they stayed. Susan remained after her mother’s death.”

“Where does she work?”

“At the hospital. She’s a nurse’s assistant.”

“She should be home from work now.”

“Only one way to find out.”

They walked up to the front door. He motioned her to the side before he knocked. The sound of deep-throated barking reverberated inside. The curtains to the right of the door fluttered.

“FBI Special Agent Macy Crow.” She held up her badge, sensing the person inside was watching closely. “I’m here to talk to Susan Oswald about an unsolved case.”

The dog’s barking was her only answer, and she was about to repeat her request when several locks on the inside clicked. The door opened to a short pale woman with thick dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She wore no makeup, a bulky sweatshirt, baggy jeans, and clogs. Her face was wide and her eyes a vivid green. She held tightly to a heavy red collar attached to a one-hundred-pound German shepherd. It was in no mood to make friends when its gaze locked on Macy.

“Are you Susan Oswald?” Macy shouted over the dog’s barks.

“Yes.” Susan made no effort to silence the dog, and when Nevada stepped into view, the dog barked louder and bared its teeth. “I’m Sheriff Mike Nevada. I’m working with Special Agent Crow on the rapes that occurred during the summer of 2004.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come by the sheriff’s office. Just got off work.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“I voted for you,” she said.

“I appreciate that, ma’am,” he said.

“You said you’d shake things up in that police department.”

“And I am,” Nevada said.

Susan rubbed her hand over the dog’s head, whispering words close to his ear that calmed him. “It’s been fifteen years since I spoke to Sheriff Greene about my case. Why are you interested? Did you catch the guy?”

“We haven’t caught the man yet,” Macy said. “We’re hoping talking to you and the other women will generate new leads.”

“You said there are three others like me?” Susan asked.

“Yes.” Macy didn’t mention the fourth girl had been murdered.

“What do you need from me?” Susan asked. “I told everything I knew to Sheriff Greene.”

“It helps me if I can see the location of the crime,” Macy said. “The scene can tell me a lot about the criminal.”

“What does my house tell you?” Susan asked.

“It’s one story,” Macy said. “That makes it easy to get in and out of. Two-story houses have more obstacles. Only one way up and down the main staircase. Were there shrubs planted around your house at the time of the crime?”

“Yes, big, tall ones. There were footprints in the mud outside my window.”

The dog appeared to be six or seven years old. “Did you have a dog at that time?”

“No. I got a rescue dog after Mom died. Then after him, I got Zeus here five years ago.”

“Why did you stay in the house?”

“Mom and I had nowhere else to live,” Susan said as she rubbed the dog’s head. “We had to stay, so I got smart. Triple locks on both doors, and all windows are nailed shut.”

“Do you mind if we look inside your house?” Macy asked.

Susan pulled Zeus back a few steps and nodded. “You can come inside. I’ll show you the room where it happened.”

“Thank you,” Macy said.

Zeus growled at them both as they passed, still not sure if they were friend or foe.

“Sorry about Zeus. He barks or growls at everything. I love that about him.”