B. J. Daniels

Her hand trembled as she opened the closet to find the baseball bat where she'd hidden it in the very back corner. After last time, she'd considered getting rid of the bat. Instead, she'd wiped off the splattering of blodd as best as she could and kept it.She wasn't stupid. She wathed CSI and all the other forensics television shows. She kne about blood splatters, about DNA, about trace evidence.But she also kne it wouldn't be good to change anything. Ritual, she knew, was important.