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now, I can see them. They need our help so they can cross into the light.”
    Sheriff Waller coughed. “Her granny was like this—”
    Vincent cut him off with a wave of his hand, and Clarissa realized he was getting ready to dismiss her. She grabbed his arm, imploring him to wait. A zing of electricity rippled through her veins, and her pulse jumped.
    Vincent dropped his gaze to her hand, then looked into her eyes as if he’d felt it, too. Judging from the scowl on his face, he didn’t like it, either.
    “I don’t need this bullshit,” he said gruffly. “I work with cold, hard facts. Evidence.”
    “You went into the Black Forest and survived,” Clarissa said boldly. “You had to have seen things inside those woods that you can’t explain.”
    A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I don’t remember what I saw in there.”
    She flinched at the anguish in his haunted eyes.
    Desperate, she silently willed the dead to talk to her, to give her something concrete, a detail about the killer, that might convince him she wasn’t crazy.
    “Afraid . . .” Jamie whispered. “Afraid of spiders . . .”
    “Their fears,” she said, realization dawning. “Billie Jo was afraid of water, of drowning. Jamie suffered from arachnophobia.”
    “That’s true. Jamie was terrified of spiders,” Sheriff Waller confirmed. “She was bit when she was a kid and almost died. Her mother mentioned it when we found her body.”
    The pieces snapped together in Clarissa’s mind like a puzzle. “That’s how the cases are connected,” she whispered. “This madman knows each girl’s worst fear, then uses it to kill her.”
    Vincent silently cursed. He didn’t want to be here and be reminded of his past. Of his father’s violent behavior.
    He especially didn’t want to remember the Black Forest or believe in Clarissa.
    But dammit, her angelic voice was convincing. And her eyes were mesmerizing, her body that of a seductress.
    “Just investigate, Vincent,” she said, near pleading. “Consider that I might be right, that the killer learns the woman’s worst fear and uses it to murder her. That the deaths are connected.”
    He hesitated, then scrubbed his hand over his beard stubble. “All right. I suppose it’s possible a psycho is stalking women. If so, we should look at your local residents, someone who befriended each of the girls, someone each girl probably talked to and told her secrets.”
    Clarissa shuddered. “One of our locals?”
    “You’d be surprised at the secrets your neighbors might have.” He turned to the sheriff. “Is there anyone in Eerie with a history of violence or mental disease? A stranger in town? A new teacher or businessman, even a counselor or preacher?”
    “Offhand, Bo Bennett comes to mind,” Waller said. “He did time in the pen for assaulting a woman. He’s been clean since he got out, though, runs the tow truck service.”
    Vincent shifted. “Let’s bring him in for questioning, find out if he has alibis for the two cases in question. I’ll check national databases and see if there are any cases with similar MO’s.”
    The telephone rang and the sheriff stepped from the room to answer it.
    Clarissa turned to Vincent. “Vincent, I told the sheriff that I think another woman is missing.”
    He arched a dark brow. “Who?”
    “I don’t know yet.”
    Her eyes implored him to believe her, then searched his face as if she was trying to see inside his head.
    Hell, he should let her see his dark soul. Then she’d run like hell and he’d be done with her.
    Clarissa cleared her throat. “What are you afraid of, Vincent? That I might be right? That there might actually be demons or some supernatural explanation for these murders?”
    “You’ve got to be kidding.”
    “I don’t kid about murder.”
    A sarcastic laugh rolled from him. “First of all, there’s no proof of any murders. And second, I’m not afraid of anything. Especially you.”
    She smiled slowly, then placed her hand on