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deplete from Stanley’s sails when the girl’s father corroborated his story.
    Tucker vowed never to forgive the guy for his part in that nightmarish year. Because of Carlton, he hadn’t been able to mourn Abby the way he should. He’d been too involved with proclaiming his right to be at her funeral instead of a four-by-eight cell. John attended the memorial, but the whispers and stares followed him, taunted him, haunted him. Yeah, he and Abby had problems, but he still loved her. And he’d wanted that baby she carried.
    In 2006, Stanley Carlton returned, and although his profile of the killer hadn’t changed, he didn’t put a name to the description. He even had the nerve to attempt an apology, which John accepted, even though he still wanted to wrap his hands around Carlton’s skinny neck and squeeze.
    “I wanted to verify the task force has been established.” Leon cleared his throat. “I know you sent a list to the other guys here, but I’d like a copy as well.”
    John punched a couple of keys on his computer and brought up the list. He would have sent it to Leon anyway. Hawkins wasn’t the enemy in this thing, far from it. Matter of fact, Leon Hawkins had been John’s main supporter in 1999, when Carlton had been ready to issue him a death sentence. “Sending it now.”
    “Fine. Hang on, and I’ll check it out.”
    John listened to Hawkins move around his office, then heard the phone rattle a bit.
    “Let’s see here. Captain Ed Pierce. He’s your chief for homicide and sex crimes, right?”
    “Right.”
    “Deputy Chief Lou Marker, Lieutenant Ryan Sims and Sergeant Zed Naylor.”
    “That’s it from the department.” John eyed the four names on his screen.
    “Same guys as before, minus Sergeant Brooks?”
    “Right.” John didn’t want to talk about Brooks any more than necessary.
    “He was there in ‘99 and 2006. Why not now?”
    “Transferred to Birmingham.” Of course Leon didn’t know the details. Most people didn’t. John liked it better that way.
    During the Sunrise Killer’s 2006 series, Ed Brooks and John Tucker worked side-by-side trying to identify the killer and clear John’s name. Their partnership forged a friendship for a time, until the end of the year, when Ed found the guilt too heavy a burden to bear and confessed his affair with Abby. They’d struck an agreement, John and Ed. Brooks would leave Macon posthaste without telling anyone what he’d done, and Tucker would refrain from killing him.
    “Fine. I’d rather keep the original group intact as well, and I feel you’ve got your bases covered, if you added the media personnel the guys up top requested.”
    “Lexie McCain has been assigned to the story and the task force.”
    “Lexie McCain.” Hawkins whistled. “She’s the best we could ask for. Good job, Tucker. I’d forgotten she moved down there. Gotta say, I always enjoyed her coverage of Atlanta’s news. The woman gets so involved with her stories that the public relates to her.” He paused. “She’s got heart, but she doesn’t hold her punches either. Excellent. I can’t imagine anyone who could do a better job.”
    “Me either.” John remembered the intelligent blonde and her interview with him last fall. She told John’s story in a manner both truthful and appealing. Since her piece ran, he’d noticed a definite shift in the public’s portrayal of his brief turn as a potential suspect. Thanks to Ms. McCain, he’d been redefined as a near-victim rather than a near-killer.
    “Sounds like you’ve got things moving well. I’m assuming you’re working over the weekend, correct?”
    “This is the killer’s weekend. Today is Good Friday.”
    Leon grunted. “Right. We used to get the day off.”
    “Yeah.” And John used to be as religious as the next guy regarding Christian holidays, and way more knowledgeable of scripture than his friends in high school, thanks to his father. He waited, knowing what came next in the conversation, but