Fred Coomer’s legendarily handsome face was no longer present in its traditional perch upon his skull; it was, instead, pasted in pieces on the headboard of his bed, along with bone fragments, brain matter, and the .45 caliber bullet that had caused such a mess. And placed on the refrigerator in the kitchen, held by a novelty magnet from Six Flags Over Texas, was a note.

It was a hell of a demoralizing sight for nine o’clock in the morning on a Monday…

Jefferson pulled out the other two notes he’d received, both of which matched the new note in nearly every aspect. Phrasing and word choice were identical, and they were all on receipts from the hardware store. There was only one difference, but it was a mightily important one, he believed.

The three notes were in three different sets of handwriting.

Three notes. Three sets of handwriting. Caleb Ridgway’s three wives, one of whom was the mother of the latest victim. Was Jefferson stretching it?

He decided he’d interview the ladies and find out.