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basement of sorts where the animals were kept. Feed and bedding were stored on the first floor, animals below. She wiped the rest
of the straw from the door and checked the latch. It was open!

    Just then the low whine of an engine broke the silence.
Amber jumped up and ran to the wall, pressing her face against
the boards. A white sedan was bouncing down the dirt lane, a
cloud of dust in its wake. She kicked the boards and cursed. Her
mind began to race. She looked through the crack again. The
car was almost there. It had to be the maniac. Judge. Quickly,
she ran to the trapdoor, pushed a thick layer of straw over it,
and sat in her corner.
    Moments later the engine shut off and a car door slammed.
A figure appeared outside the barn door, rolled the cinder block
away, fiddled with the lock, and swung open the door.
    "Well, well, awake are we?" Judge said, stepping through the
cutout doorway. He had a brown paper bag in his arm, but his
face remained in the shadows.
    "I brought you some things. Water, apples, toilet paper." He
set the bag on the floor and stepped toward the door. "Are you
finding your accommodations cozy?"
    Amber did not answer, did not even attempt to look at him.
She had a stubborn streak that ran through her like a vein of
cold iron ore, forged from years of withstanding her father's
psychological abuse.
    "Well, you won't be here long, my dear. And tonight you'll be
getting some company." Then he stepped through the doorway,
pushed the door closed, locked it, and shoved the cinder block
back in place.
    Amber dropped her head into her hands.
    Outside, judge began hollering. "Buck! Duke! Get over here!"
    In the distance the faint sound of barking echoed over the
pasture. The dogs were back. The barking grew closer until it
was just outside the barn.

    "Hey! Where've you been?" Judge was hollering. He cursed
loudly then grunted, and one of the dogs yelped. Then another
curse, another grunt, another yelp.
    "Do your job and keep watch!"
    The car door closed; the engine revved to life, and the sound
of wheels rolling over packed dirt ground through the barn.
Amber got up slowly, walked to the wall, and watched as the
white sedan disappeared over the horizon, leaving a tan trail of
dust billowing into the still air.
    The Dobermans were circling the barn, noses to the ground,
hungrily searching for a morsel of food.

    Judge liked the light dim when he meditated. The single bulb
hanging from the ceiling gave no light. Instead, an oil lamp,
resting on the top shelf of the metal bookcase, cast an orange
undulating glow around the small room.
    He leaned back in his desk chair, stroked his soul patch, and
studied the wall before him. The pictures of Amber had been
removed, and a new face had taken their place.
    Virginia. Friends call her Ginny.
    Now only three walls were adorned with photos-in front
of him, to his right, and to his left. Three to go. But the other
two would remain nameless until their time came. That was his
way. One at a time. Focus on one guilty soul at a time.
    Virginia. He was no friend.
    He'd already found out all he needed to know about her.
Twenty-five. Five-three. Brown hair. Brown eyes-eyes like
deep pools of dark chocolate. Single. Drove an '02 Ford Focus.
Silver. Plates ABD-6488. Employed for the last three years with
Just For You Salon. Cosmetologist. She worked the afternoon/
evening shift, got off at 9:30, walked to her car with a friend, took twenty minutes to drive home, and arrived at 42 Broad
Court by herself at precisely 9:55. Give or take.

    He'd wait for this one at home. Nice and dark, secluded area,
and plenty of shade. It had taken him almost two weeks to find
her. She'd be easy.
    Virginia. He let her name resonate through his mind,
focusing on her face, her quick gait, perfect posture, shoulders
back, chin up, pelvis tilted just so. He envisioned a hardwood
gavel dropping on the bench. The sound of wood on wood
echoing through the