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“Then who is his father?” he asked.

“Now isn’t the time to discuss all this. And it really isn’t any of your business,” she replied tersely, aware of the line of people growing behind him. “Please, Johnny, just leave now. You’re holding up other shoppers.”

He grabbed the bag containing his bread. “Mimi, this conversation isn’t over,” he said and then headed for the store exit.

She watched him go, her heart still beating a million miles a minute. She hated to lie, but in this case, it was absolutely necessary. As far as she was concerned, there was no need for further conversation on the subject. She’d told him he wasn’t Danny’s father, and that was that.

Unless he pushed the issue and demanded a paternity test. Then there would be no hiding, no lying about the results.

She spent her break time going through all kinds of scenarios in her head…none of them good. By the time she got off work, she was a bundle of nerves.

She drove to the swamp entrance and parked her car. As always, she pulled out the sharp knife she’d begun to carry since the first murder and held it tightly in her hand.

The first victim had been from town, and the second one had been from the swamp. If what she’d heard from Renée that morning was true, then the latest victim had been from town, so was the killer setting up a pattern? Would somebody from the swamp be next?

Mimi was determined it wouldn’t be her. She’d fight like hell and stab whoever threatened her. She had too much to live for to wind up being hung from a tree with her throat slashed.

She got out of her car and headed into the swamp. As she walked, she listened intently to her surroundings. She rarely ran into anyone on her way home, and today was no different. Still, she kept her ears and eyes peeled for anyone trying to sneak up on her.

As usual, her feet and back ached after the long hours of standing. Thankfully tomorrow was her day off, and she would be able to spend all day with her son and Gramps. Finally reaching the shanty, she dropped the knife into her purse, ran up the bridge and then opened the front door.

Danny immediately greeted her with a huge hug and a quick, slightly sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“How’s my boy?” she asked.

“Good,” he replied with his blue eyes sparkling brightly. “Gramps and I saw big hogs today.”

“Big hogs?”

Danny nodded. “In the swamp book. They were mean-looking.”

“And Gramps told you we stay away from those big hogs, right?” she said to her son. She knew that wild boar roamed the swamp, destroying vegetation wherever they rooted. Generally speaking, they weren’t a danger to people, but there had been cases of them attacking.

“Right,” Danny replied.

Mimi wanted her son to know the good and the bad of the swamp where they lived. She wished they could go outside for long walks and see not only the dangers but the beauty as well. However, with a serial killer on the loose, the last thing she wanted to do was take leisurely strolls through the swamp with her young son.

Thankfully they did have a large front porch with two comfortable wicker chairs. Occasionally, she and Gramps sat out there while Danny played in front of them.

It was during dinner that she told Gramps about her brief conversation with Johnny at the store and the fierce anxiety that had since bubbled up inside her.

“No need to worry about the future,” Gramps replied and smiled at her softly. “All you can do at this point is take things one day at a time. Things are going to happen whether you worry about them or not, so my suggestion is don’t worry until you have to.”

“Easier said than done,” she replied dryly. “In the meantime, tomorrow is my day off, and you know what that means?” She looked at Danny with a wide smile.

“It’s a Danny day, and that means you get to play with me all day long,” Danny said happily. “We can play cars and building blocks and maybe build a fort in my room, and then you can read to me before my bedtime.”

“Sounds like a good day to me,” she replied.

“I’m done eating. Can I go play?” Danny asked.

“You may,” Mimi said.

He immediately jumped out of his chair and ran to his bedroom.

“He ate good,” Gramps observed.

“He always loves your fried fish and homemade mac and cheese,” she replied. “I love it, too.”