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conference to a close. The trap was set, the bait was in place, and the waiting had begun.
    *   *   *
    The light was dim inside the underground ossuary. That was a matter of preference as well as necessity since power was precious. The Bonebreaker’s electricity was drawn from an illegal tap and piped into the crypt through a carefully camouflaged cable. Not an easy thing for most people to do, but the Bonebreaker wasn’t most people and had plenty of time to work with.
    So, except for the pool of light provided by a single overhead fixture and the glow that emanated from a flat-screen TV set, the main room was unlit. That was why the Bonebreaker always wore a headlamp as he moved through the tunnels that radiated out from the ossuary like the spokes of a wheel. It was perpetually chilly belowground—but three layers of clothing were sufficient to combat the cold.
    Plus, the Bonebreaker was busy.
Very
busy since each time God called on him, there was a lot of work to do. First he had to plan the abduction. A task that could require weeks if not months of observation. Then he had to create a disguise, wait for the right moment, and strike.
    Of course, that was only the beginning. Then came the moment of dismemberment, a rather messy process, and the flensing. Or what the Bonebreaker thought of as the holy trinity.
    At the moment, he was still in the process of preparing one of Deputy Chief McGinty’s bones prior to inscribing it with the police officer’s name, date of birth, and a short message. The blade made a scritching sound as he scraped the last bits of tissue off a femur.
    Then he took a moment to examine the shaft, using a jeweler’s lit headband magnifier. Hopefully, McGinty appreciated the care and respect shown his earthly remains even as his soul burned in hell. Now it was time to put his toolsaside, clean the surface of the table, and watch the news. Something he did every day at 5:30 P.M. Channel 7 was already on, so all he had to do was aim the remote and touch MUTE . The lead story had to do with the increasingly serious conflict between the Republic of Texas to the east and the Aztec Empire to the south. The tecs believed that all of the lands that had once been part of Mexico should be returned to them, regardless of the treaties and purchases signed in the past. The Bonebreaker didn’t give a shit.
    The next story had to do with a terrible house fire in which two adults and three children had perished. He didn’t care about that either.
    Then, in the number three slot, was a story he
did
care about because it was all about him. The Bonebreaker turned up the volume in order to hear Chief of Police Corso clearly. He was followed by a man named Jenkins and the person God wanted him to kill next: Detective Cassandra Lee. They’d met once, and he could have killed her then, except for one thing. It would have been too quick and painless. That’s why a stay of execution had been granted. Now, according to Lee, she was going to hunt him down. Never mind the fact that God was on
his
side. Still, the bitch could get lucky.
    The Bonebreaker felt a mishmash of conflicting emotions, including a flush of pleasure at being so important, a sense of superiority that went with having been able to operate with impunity, and just a tinge of fear. And that made him uncomfortable.
    *   *   *
    It was the first day after the press conference, and as Lee got out of bed, she was very conscious of the fact that eyes were watching her every move. The hidden camera was there to protect her—but it also meant a tremendous loss of privacy.
    Rather than the tee shirt and panties that Lee normallywore to bed, she was dressed in plain pajamas. Her plan was to give the males on the shadow team very little to talk about. It was a short trip to the bathroom, which was the only place in the apartment that wasn’t bugged. It felt good to close the door and be by