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since he was little. God has a special place in hell for those people. Think they can make fun of the weak. Truth is, if they knew what I knew, they might not tease so much. Stevie was a simmerin volcano. You could only push a person so far. But over the years I'd been the only one who'd seen him explode—in the safety of home. It was like he bottled up all his emotion until he could let it out in front of me.
    Or so I'd thought.
    For the past three years, since he turned twenty-three, Stevie had been livin on his own, with a steady job as janitor at the factory. He worked cleanin up durin the late shift, 3:00 to 11:00. He'd seemed to stabilize. Grow some confidence. When he came over to my place I saw no more of his temper. I thought he was growin up, learnin how to deal with his anger.
    Until my brother showed up at my house two nights ago—the night Erika Hollinger was killed—covered in blood.

http://www.pulitzer.org/works/2010-Feature-Writing
    2010 Pulitzer Prize
    Feature Writing
    The Jackson Bugle
    Gone to Ground
    What happens to a small, quiet Southern town when evil invades in the form of a serial killer?
    By: Trent Williams
    October 29, 2010
    (Excerpt)
    The population of present-day Amaryllis barely breaks 1,700. Even so, it is the second largest city in Jasper County, surpassed by Bay Springs seven miles to the west, with citizens numbering about 2,100. The entire county is home to a mere 18,000 people.
    Before the Closet Killings the last murder on record for Amaryllis dates back to 1905, when a lumberman by the name of Jack Brown got drunk and shot his nemesis, Alton Wilkerson, during a fight over a woman. The woman's name has been lost to history.
    While Bay Springs is small, it benefits from the confluence of four highways within its city limits. By contrast Amaryllis has a much more sheltered feel, nestled along bucolic Highway 528, which meanders 22 miles between Bay Springs and Heidelberg. County Road 27, an even smaller and less traveled route, forms the town's eastern border. A driver along the pine tree lined Highway 528 comes upon Amaryllis almost as if by accident. A curve in the road—and the town appears. Driving east from Bay Springs, after a few outlying houses, one sees a left turn onto Main Street—a blend of brick-paved road and old storefronts. The drugstore—complete with soda fountain—the bank and grocery store, the hardware store, two hair salons, and one family diner all front Main. There isn't an unknown face on that street, unless, of course, it belongs to an out-of-town visitor. Amaryllis has enjoyed, even thrived, in its anonymity.
    Now its separateness has taken on an eerie, bone-chilling aura.
    "Where you headed?" Shirley Ludden asks a stranger as she sets a glass of water before him in her Flower Café. "Glad you stopped in. We love to meet new friends." Shirley is a rotund woman in her fifties, quick with a smile and known for her patience and listening ear. Not to mention the best peach pie in town.
    But in the past three years Shirley's smile has slipped. "It's hard lookin' at a stranger now," she admits. "Hard even seein' folks I've known all my life come into my place. With every man I serve I think, 'Is he the one?'" She lowers her eyes, giving her head a little shake. "Come to think of it, how do you even know it's a man?"

Chapter 5
Tully

    The same day Mike said he'd kill Erika Hollinger he was almost an hour late coming home from work.
    I was already in bed, not wanting to see his face. I lay on my side facing away from the door, my belly heavy and my feet swollen. I had to put a pillow lengthwise between my knees for any comfort at all. When 11:10 rolled around with no truck pulling in the driveway, my body tensed up, like it already suspected the worst. By the time the digital clock read 11:30 I knew where Mike was.
    With Erika.
    I started to shake. I knew my Michael. He may have been sleeping with her, but he'd hardly gone over there on this