“He was also the one who gave the guy a life sentence instead of death. From the way I figure it,” Paul said, “Walker owes the fellow a big-ass thank-you. Not any payback.”

Lauren cleared her throat. “But Paul, Judge Walker has a career here, a family—”

“He also has a dead mistress and a serial killer stalking the streets. He would have seen coverage of your attack on the news.”

“Was there video of him leaving the courthouse?” Anthony asked. A video would let them know whether or not the judge had left on his own.

“There was some security footage, yeah. It showed Hamilton looking over his shoulder a few times, running fast for his ride, but the cameras didn’t catch anyone else with him.”

It was sure looking like Walker had fled, not been abducted.

Anthony still wanted to talk to the wife. He wanted to follow every piece of evidence, any trail that might lead him to Walker. And the judge—well, Walker had already showed a marked interest in the guy.

Anthony and Lauren followed Paul into the house. When Mrs. Pierce Hamilton came into view, Lauren crossed to her side.

“Julia,” Lauren said, her voice soft, “I’m very sorry for—”

“He left me.” The words seemed lost. So shocked. “He took the money and he left me.”

“We don’t know for—”

Julia, a thin woman with carefully streaked blonde hair, gave a bitter laugh. “Don’t lie to me, Lauren. I know what’s been going on. I know about the girl he was screwing, I always know about the girls…” Her sentence trailed away as her fingers clenched around a white handkerchief. “I don’t usually care. We have an arrangement, you see.”

Anthony didn’t see and he didn’t exactly want to.

“He was never supposed to leave. What will people say?” The handkerchief was about to rip apart in her hands. “What will I do?”

What could they do? The judge was an adult. If he wanted to cut town and run, he could. He’d broken no laws, so they had no legal reason to hold him or to hunt him.

Julia’s red-rimmed eyes locked on Paul. “Can you find him, Detective? Can you ask him why?”

Sympathy slid over Paul’s face. “Ms. Hamilton, you know Judge Hamilton convicted Jon Walker—”

“This isn’t about Walker!” She jumped to her feet. “My husband isn’t in danger! He’s leaving me! I can’t let him do that! I can’t let—”

“We’re going to search for signs of foul play because of the Walker case,” Paul continued, his voice staying calm and low. “But ma’am, if the judge willingly left the city, there isn’t anything that can be done.”

Julia’s narrow shoulders hunched. “I gave him so many years. I let him screw around with those whores, and this is what he does? He leaves me?” She ripped the handkerchief in two. “Let Walker get him. I don’t care! If the bastard dies, it will be better for me.” Her breath was ragged. “Better to be a widow than the fool he left behind.”

* * *

Pierce Hamilton slowly opened his eyes. His head hurt. It throbbed. He squinted as he tried to see around him. Where the hell am I?

“Waking up, are you?” The voice was taunting. “Sure as fuck took you long enough.”

With effort, Pierce turned his head to the side.

Jon Walker smiled. “Did you think you were running somewhere?”

Pierce’s memory flooded back. He’d left the courthouse in a rush, but his car had been nearly out of gas. He’d filled the thing up a day ago, so it should have been able to go for miles. He’d found himself drifting into a small, run-down station on the edge of town. He’d started to fill up his tank…

Then someone had slammed his head into the side of his BMW, hard enough to break the fucking window.

“I went to so much trouble to get back to you and Ms. Chandler.” Walker shook his head. “Did you think I would just let you walk away?” He took a step toward Pierce. The knife in his hand glinted. “You and I…we have some unfinished business.”

Fear rose in Pierce’s throat, nearly choking him. “I’m not the one to blame! I was just doing my job!”

“If you had done your job, you would have paid attention to the letters you got. Those damn letters said I should go free.”

His heart was about to jump out of his chest. “How do you know about those?”

“I know plenty.” Walker glanced around. “Like the fact your fishing cabin was empty, sitting all alone up here, waiting for someone to stop by for a nice little visit.”

Pierce’s eyes widened. This was his place. He hadn’t been here in at least two years. Julia hated the cabin, so he’d found other entertainment to keep him busy. But the antlers on the wall, the bear rug, the gleaming wood furniture—

Mine.

“Never would’ve guessed you loved to hunt and kill so much, Judge,” Walker drawled. “Looks like we have more in common than I thought.”

“We’re not alike! We’re nothing alike!” Pierce strained at his bonds. He was in one of the kitchen chairs. Behind him, his hands were wrapped with what felt like duct tape. He looked down and saw the gray line of duct tape around his ankles. He was trapped. Helpless.

The knife was so close to his skin.

The Bayou Butcher. He’d seen the crime scene photos, seen everything during the trial. He knew just how Walker liked to torture his prey. He also knew—

“You don’t kill men,” Pierce blurted, because what the hell else did he have to say? But it was the truth. Walker liked to hurt women, not men. It was part of the profile that had been revealed in court.

Walker laughed. “Tell that to the prison guard I gutted on my way out of Angola.”

Pierce shook his head. He wasn’t stupid. He’d had plenty of shrinks in his court over the years, so he understood more than most about the minds of killers. “It was fast, though, right? You don’t enjoy it when you kill men. Just women.” He licked his lips. “You would have enjoyed it if you’d gotten to kill Lauren.”

Walker’s face hardened. “I will kill the bitch.”

“Yes, yes, you will.” Pierce spoke quickly. “Call her, tell her I’m here, that you have me, and she’ll come running.” She’d also better come with that marshal who seemed glued to her side.

Or with the detective she’d screwed once upon a time.

Walker glanced down at the knife in his hand. “Women have softer skin. The knife just slices right through it.”

Sick freak.

“I sliced your girlfriend.” Walker glanced up with a sly smirk on his face. “Didn’t realize who she was to you, not at first. Just thought she was some dumb bitch friend of Lauren’s. And any friend of Lauren’s can damn well find herself under my knife.”

Pierce jerked at the duct tape. Don’t think about Karen.

“Karen, right? I found out her name later. I just called her bitch when I was slicing her.”

Pierce’s hands fisted.

“She started screaming that she had a powerful boyfriend, a judge who would give me anything if I let her live.” He laughed. “So stupid. She was your side piece. You wouldn’t give up anything for her.”

Pierce thought of Karen’s laughter. Such a sweet sound. He thought of the way she’d made him feel, like he should do more than let his life fade away. Like he should have dreams again.

“Call Lauren,” he managed to say, swallowing heavily. “Tell her—”

“I’m not calling anyone.”

Hell.

Walker stood directly in front of him now. “I was in that prison for eighteen hundred and sixty-five days. While I was behind those bars, in that fucking tiny room, you were out. You were screwing your whore, riding in your fancy car, eating your fine dinners.”

“You killed. A jury found you guilty—”

“One of the bastards changed his mind! He wrote to you!”

Pierce understood. “You made him write, didn’t you?”

The smirk was back.

“How? What did you do?”

“Let’s just say I found the right motivation to convince him I needed to get out of jail.” He laughed, bitter, mocking. “When you apply the right pressure, you can get a man to do just about anything.”

Pierce couldn’t get out of the bonds.

“But his notes didn’t work.” Walker’s jaw tightened, the smirk slipping. “So things had to get bloody for him. The bastard owed me, and I made sure he paid. Just like I’ll make sure you pay.”

He was staring at death. Walker’s slow, wide smile confirmed the hell that was coming. “You shouldn’t worry about other folks right now, Judge. Instead, you should probably be more worried about what’s going to happen to you.”

* * *

Paul whistled softly as the judge’s wife stormed away. “That is a woman with a whole lot of rage.” He shook his head. “Guess that’s what happens when you screw around on someone too long. They want their revenge.”

Lauren had seen the fury in Julia’s eyes, but she’d also seen the pain. At that moment, she wasn’t sure if Julia knew what she really wanted. Her husband being carved up by a serial killer? That might not be what she was praying for.

Paul’s phone rang. He held it up to his ear. “Voyt.” His body snapped to attention. “What? Hell.” A brief pause, then, “I was hoping the guy had just run.”

Anthony’s gaze met Lauren’s. They both knew who Paul was talking about.

“I’m on my way. Get the techs to check the vehicle for prints and see if the station attendant saw anything.” He ended the call with a long, rough sigh. His gaze drifted to the door on the right, the door Julia had exited seconds before. “I guess she’s getting her wish.”

“Is he dead?” Anthony asked. It was the same question on Lauren’s lips.

“We don’t have a body yet. The judge’s BMW was found abandoned at a gas station near Pontraine Lake. The attendant realized the car had been out there for a while. He went to take a look and found blood dripping down the side of the busted passenger window. The judge was nowhere around.”

Lauren’s heartbeat raced. “Walker took him. Just like he took me.”

A muscle jerked along Paul’s jaw. “I’m driving to the gas station. If I find out anything else, you’ll know. Count on it.” He focused on Anthony. “You’ll be staying with her.” It wasn’t a question.

Anthony nodded anyway.

“Maybe you two can get the wife to tell you something else—something we can use. Sometimes, spouses know a hell of a lot more than we think.” He headed for the front door, moving with quick, long strides.

Lauren’s fingers twisted in front of her. “Walker was ready to start cutting me the minute he had me alone.”

Anthony stepped closer to her. “That’s because the bastard gets off on hurting women. He enjoys their pain.”

She flinched. He’d sure enjoyed her pain.

“The guard at the prison—the man he murdered—Walker killed him quickly,” Anthony said. “The judge won’t have as much time as you did. Hell, Hamilton could already be dead.”

“What?”

Oh, hell. Julia had come back into the room. Lauren hadn’t even heard her footsteps. She glanced over her shoulder.

Julia was frowning at them. “Did you just say Hamilton is dead?” Her face had turned a stark white.

Lauren took a steadying breath as she faced her.

“Where’s Detective Voyt? What’s happening?” Julia seemed a whole lot less enraged now, and much more afraid.

“Detective Voyt received a call,” Lauren told her, fighting to keep her voice level. “Pierce’s car was found at a gas station near Pontraine Lake.”

“What?” Then Julia smiled. “Oh, Pierce must have just been going to the old fishing cabin.” The tension seemed to leave her shoulders. “I knew he wouldn’t leave me, of course. I’m the one constant he always has. He needs me, you see. We’re a team, we’re—”

“The car was abandoned,” Lauren said softly. “The judge wasn’t there.”

Julia trembled. Her smile faded.

Lauren had to tell her the rest. Julia deserved the truth. “There was blood found on the passenger-side window.”

“Pierce’s blood?”

“It’s too early to tell that.” Anthony’s voice was a low rumble. “The crime techs will have to test the blood before we can determine that for sure.”

The hope had vanished from the woman’s face. Julia’s knees seemed to give way as she collapsed onto the lush leather couch. “I didn’t mean what I said.” Her voice was a whisper.

Lauren sat next to her and reached for her hand.

Julia’s lower lip quivered. “I loved him once¸ but somewhere along the way, we both got lost.” Her lashes lowered. “I was the first to cheat,” she confessed in a voice heavy with emotion. Pain. “He worked so much, all the time, and I just wanted someone to notice me. Maybe I wanted him to notice.”