Lisa Jackson's Bentz And Montoya Bundle Part 35

Chapter Thirty-fiveThe headlines were magnificent. The Chosen One had bought copies of all the local papers and now, in his sanctuary, as he clipped them with his pinking shears, he softly sang a Christmas carol and read the bold print."Hark the herald angels sing ..."POLICE STYMIED IN CHURCH MURDER"Glory to the newborn King."ROSARY KILLER RESURRECTED?"Peace on earth and mercy mild."COLLEGE COED SERIAL KILLER BAFFLES NOPD"G.o.d and sinner, reconciled ..."ALTAR BOY SLAIN."Again ..." he paused, then sang to a crescendo, "G.o.d and sinner reconciled." He liked that line in particular.The Chosen One smiled at his work as he tacked the banners of his newly found fame to the calendar where his saints had been displayed. St. Joan of Arc, St. Catherine of Alexandria, beautiful little St. Philomena, St. Mary Magdalen ... such lovelies.But the press didn't understand him, nor did the public know of his work.The police, of course, were idiots even if the press was giving him his due respect. Finally. Yet there had been not one mention of G.o.d's work, of the mission. Of course they didn't know. The police were keeping the members of the Fourth Estate sheltered from the real truth with words like "ritualistic slayings," or "brutal murder," so as not to bring out the copycats or those who would claim to have done the deeds for a few minutes of fame. So the press hadn't been allowed to understand what was his mission ... unless he corrected them. A letter to a newspaper or a call to a radio station ... all risky, but .... perhaps ... He paused as he considered the disc jockey he would call.Dr. Sam on her show Midnight Confessions.Perfect.Yes ... but first things first.He had to capture his next two victims. First St. Bibiana, then St. Lucy. Time was running short and while the police were busy trying to figure out how that miserable altar boy was connected to the other murders, it was time to make his move. He just needed a little help.Humming to himself, he walked down the stairs to the bas.e.m.e.nt. Opening the door his nostrils were immediately burned with the foul stench of the dogs and fecal matter. The animals were quiet now, but as he opened the door and snapped on the red light they sent up a cacophony of howls. Worse yet, the b.i.t.c.h was in heat ... and the male dog was more interested in breaking into her kennel than snarling at the terrified woman backed against the wall.She looked up at him as he approached and then to the weapon swinging from his cincture, the stun gun at odds with the gold-colored cord holding his alb in place. "Would you like to get out of here, my child?" he asked in soft, dulcet tones.She nodded wildly, her round eyes darting from him to the dogs and back to the gun."Well, I think it's time. I've made my point. You will be obedient, now, won't you?"Again she nodded and he bent down to release her bonds, but as he did, he clipped a collar around her throat, the same collar that surrounded each mutt's neck. The collars were the kind used in training dogs, each neck band equipped with metal p.r.o.ngs that pressed into the soft skin of the throat. Activated electronically by a remote control device he kept in his deep pockets the collars would sizzle with electricity, shocking the wearer. Should they be wet, from holy water or sweat, the shock was even more severe. With the press of a b.u.t.ton The Chosen One could zap her or the dogs into submission.To prove his point, he withdrew a control and aimed it at her. She withered away, shrinking into the wall, shaking her head violently and making anxious cries beneath her gag. He smiled, a faint erection beginning beneath his robes. "Trust me," he said and pushed the b.u.t.ton. She squeezed her eyes shut and the b.i.t.c.h in heat squealed and yipped as a shock went through her mangy body.He released the b.u.t.ton and the woman opened her eyes in terror. Tears rained from her face and she looked beyond him to the kennels where the female dog, tail between her legs looked confused and whimpered."Now, will you do as I say?" he asked her and there was no hesitation. He saw complete compliance in her eyes. "Good. Come along then, I have a job for you." He released the shackles on her feet, but kept her hands restrained and helping her to her feet, urged her up the stairs. "If you do anything I don't like, anything at all, I'll be forced to activate the collar, and ... yes, the stun gun. Remember that? You didn't like that, did you?She shook her head vigorously as if she remembered all too vividly how he'd approached her just after she'd returned her rental car and before she could make her way to the airport terminal.Dressed in jeans, sweatshirt and jacket, he'd blended in, then taken out the gun and zapped her, catching her before she hit the ground and half dragging her into the car he'd stolen at the campus ... just like before. It had been raining furiously and he'd used an umbrella to shield them not only from the weather but prying eyes as well. She'd only made one cry-the stun gun and his knife had convinced her to remain quiet as she'd roused. Then he'd gagged and cuffed her and brought her here.She was a fine specimen, could probably be offered as a sacrifice. He watched the muscles of her rump-tight and rounded, as she walked up the steps. Again the pleasantly painful erection ... yes, spilling her blood would be a pleasure. He stopped her in the upper hallway before she reached the entrance. No one was allowed into his sanctuary. Just G.o.d."Here we go." He stood her against a curtained wall and took several pictures with his Polaroid. "Now, if you're good ... very, very good, next time I'll let you out; I'll have a more difficult task for you," he said, thinking of her cell phone. "For now, though, you must go back downstairs."She shook her head."It's only for a little while," he a.s.sured her as the tears ran again. "And then, I'll get you out of the bas.e.m.e.nt for good. But you have to promise that you'll help me." She didn't hesitate, but nodded violently. Her hands were on his sleeves, clutching at his alb, reaching for his chasuble, trying to wind her fingers into its satiny folds. "I understand," he said. "I know this is difficult, but nothing worthwhile comes easily. There must be pain and suffering and sacrifice involved. Now ... off with you." When she started to shake her head he reached into his pocket and brought out his remote control. "Be a good girl," he warned and she turned quickly and on dirty bare feet scrambled down the stairs. He wanted to give her one little shock, to hustle her along, but resisted.Sarah needed to fully comprehend the difference between reward and punishment."... Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned ..."James felt his knees turn to water. It had been over a week since the last time he'd heard this raspy confession. "What is it, my son?" he said, forgetting all the rules, sitting on the edge of the desk in his apartment. His spine was stiff, his heart pounding with dread."It has been a week since my last confession and these are my sins."James braced himself."I have taken the Lord's name in vain and I have l.u.s.ted in my heart."So far, so good."For your penance say ten Hail Marys and five Our Fathers." James's throat was dry and his lungs so tight he couldn't breathe. Surely the penitent had not killed again ... and then he knew."And I broke the commandment again. I took a life."James's blood was thundering in his ears. "Another one?" Father O'Hara had been interrogated, but set free as he could prove his whereabouts. The scandal had been horrible of course and he was being scrutinized by the press and the parishioners and the clergy... O'Hara's name would forever be a.s.sociated with the killing though he was innocent of the murder. However, there were other charges that Mickey's parents' attorney was making, claims of improper touching, sodomy and rape ... and now this ..."Oh, yes ... I found the sinner in the house of G.o.d.""The sinner?" James felt sick inside."The altar boy who desecrated the church," the voice thundered. "The hooligan who stole wine and had the audacity to drink from the chalice, all in the guise of piety. Yes, I spilled his blood, gladly. Let it be a lesson to all those who defy G.o.d, who do not revere His house, who commit sins."The man was mad. He had it all twisted around."Listen, my son," James begged, though he wanted to somehow strangle the man. Give me strength, Lord, please, let me find a way to stop him. Give me strength, Lord, please, let me find a way to stop him. "I, too, have sought G.o.d's counsel. He has told me that the killings must stop, that it is not His will. No more lives be taken." "I, too, have sought G.o.d's counsel. He has told me that the killings must stop, that it is not His will. No more lives be taken.""You?" A haughty sneer was evident in the voice. "You have talked to G.o.d?""Yes, many times.""And you heard Him speak?""I know what He wants and this violence is not His will."There was a snort. "The world is a violent place, Father. Haven't you noticed? And the atrocities committed in the name of religion have been around since the beginning of time.""Then commit no more. Sin no more.""But I, I I have actually spoken to G.o.d and heard His voice and my mission is clear. I am to make a sacrifice to Him. For the martyred saints. To reaffirm their martyrdom." have actually spoken to G.o.d and heard His voice and my mission is clear. I am to make a sacrifice to Him. For the martyred saints. To reaffirm their martyrdom.""What?" James said, his gut clenching. Bentz had been right."You don't understand, do you? I knew you had not spoken to the Father." And then he went on and on about his mission, about how he would find the perfect person to sacrifice on the feast days, just as Rick Bentz had surmised. He hardly paused for a breath, as if he were glad for a chance to explain himself. His speech pattern was that of a lecturer ... as if he were used to people listening to him, an orator. A priest? A politician? A CEO? A teacher ... the coeds taken from the local campuses ... a scholar?"Have I a penance?" he finally asked."Of course ... of course ... it is the same as before. You are to say the rosary and confess to the police-""I'll not be judged by mortals! My confession is only to the Father through you."He clicked off and James was left with the receiver to his ear. He dropped it, didn't realize that the connection wasn't severed, that the receiver dangled over the edge of the desk.James sank to his knees and prayed harder than he ever had in his life.Bentz taped the entire conversation. He felt some measure of relief that James wasn't the killer. But hearing the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's raspy voice, feeling his presence had made Bentz's skin crawl. He didn't waste any time, just popped a couple of Rolaids he found in the desk drawer at home, then dialed up his friend with the phone company. Maybe Larry would have some information for him. Maybe he was about to catch the killer. Maybe he'd get lucky."What the f.u.c.k is this?" Brian Thomas asked as he threw open the door to his studio apartment and found two cops on his doorstep. One had a swarthy complexion and had a don't-f.u.c.k-with-me att.i.tude stamped across his face, the other guy was older, tough-looking but ... oh, s.h.i.t, he recognized Kristi Bentz's father from a picture he'd seen in her wallet."We'd just like to talk to you," Bentz explained."I haven't done anything to your daughter.""So you know who I am?" His smile was cold as death."She said you'd be calling." He stepped back and let them into his one room. It was spa.r.s.ely furnished and messy, but he didn't really give a rat's a.s.s. The cops couldn't bust him on anything. The weed he'd smoked last night was all gone, he didn't do anything stronger, so he was home free. But he was sweating and no doubt both cops, their gazes sc.r.a.ping over his bookcase and ... oh, s.h.i.t ... the bong. He'd left the bong and a six pack of empties by the bed and sure enough Bentz spied it.His lips compressed. "We need to ask you some questions," he said and pointed to a secondhand recliner near the window. "Why don't you sit down?"Brian was sweating bullets. What did the cops have on him? He'd been through this before, a long time ago, and memories of being arrested, of having his hands yanked hard behind his back as he was cuffed, of the charges and arrest, the hours of interrogation, being fingerprinted and stripped, thrown in a locked cage with the lowlifes of the world ... Now, he gritted his teeth and tried to think. He'd done nothing wrong. They couldn't prove anything."Kristi said you'd eventually come by, that anyone who dated her was subjected to some kind of interrogation.""Just a few questions," Montoya said. "No big deal, man. You just stay cool and this'll be over in a few minutes.""Maybe I should call my lawyer.""You need one?" Bentz asked, thick eyebrows lifting over suspicious gray eyes. What a piece of work."I don't know, do I?""Not if you haven't done anything wrong," Montoya said and kicked out a kitchen chair. "Sit down. Relax. It's just a couple of questions."Bulls.h.i.t, Brian thought, but settled into the recliner and wondered if they smelled the wafts of burnt weed still lingering in the air. Bentz didn't sit down. He also didn't hide the fact that he didn't trust Brian. Not one little bit. Obviously he didn't like the fact that Brian was dating his daughter and for a second Brian thought about all those movies he'd seen, the bad cops who planted evidence, then threatened charges unless they could squeeze a confession from the guy. He swallowed hard. Even if he beat the charges, his career here at the University would be ruined.It would be smarter to cooperate.They asked him a million questions. Some of them had to do with faculty and students, but a lot of the questions surrounded Dr. Franz and his two wives. Brian had been at All Saints as an undergrad at the time and had done some work for the first wife, Dr. Nancoise Franz. They also asked him about women he'd read about in the papers, Leslie Franz, Cathy Anderson and Stephanie Jane Keller-victims of the serial killer. And they'd stared at the two swords he had mounted over his bed, then asked him about weaponry and what he'd done while in the military. He should call a lawyer; it was obvious they thought he might be connected to the killer stalking the college campuses.Or more likely, Bentz had a hard-on for him because he was dating his precious daughter. Didn't the cops have more important things to do than intimidate innocent people, for Christ's sake?They couldn't think he was really involved? That was crazy. He didn't know those girls.Bentz asked him about the rape charges and about him spending time in the seminary. They even brought up the names of some of the patron saints-now what the f.u.c.k was that all about? Bentz had done enough homework to bring up the fact that before Brian had transferred to All Saints he'd spent his freshman and soph.o.m.ore years at Tulane and studied psych under Dr. Leeds."That guy, he's a real p.r.i.c.k," Brian said, wiping the sweat from his palms on his jeans. "Stuck on himself. Between him and Dr. Sutter, here, I gave up on psychology, decided to do my doctorate work in philosophy. I came up with a theory that everyone gets interested in psych because they need it themselves. They have problems, go to a shrink, get off on talking about themselves and decide they could make some money at it..." Brian shut up. Why rattle on? Years ago, when there had been all that trouble with the rape charges his lawyer had told him to answer precisely, give no more information than what was asked.The cops left about an hour and a half after they'd arrived, thank G.o.d. Brian walked to the window and looked through the grimy panes and checked out the parking lot. Within minutes they climbed into a Jeep with Bentz at the wheel. What the h.e.l.l were they doing all the way up here? How serious were they to be talking to him? An uneasy feeling crawled across his skin.He thought about calling Kristi and reading her the riot act, but decided against it. But seeing her tonight would be out. Bentz would probably drop by and visit his daughter and he was the last person Brian wanted to run into again.No, he needed time to think. What the h.e.l.l was he doing with a cop's daughter anyway?Brian walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. He was just twisting off the top when the doorbell rang again. s.h.i.t. Not the cops again. Please! He took a long swallow and walked to the window. The Jeep was gone. Good.So who was ringing his door? Grinning, he thought he knew the answer.The edge from the detectives' visit had worn off. He'd cooled it a little with Kristi since she'd returned from visiting her d.i.c.k of an old man at Thanksgiving. Not because Brian didn't want to see her, but because he thought playing a little hard to get wouldn't be such a bad idea. He sensed she liked a challenge, so he was going to give her one. Maybe then he'd be able to score. How would the old man like that? Huh?The bell rang again and he yelled, "Coming!" then under his breath, "Keep your panties on." Running fingers through his hair, he walked to the door and pulled it open. The smile plastered onto his face slid away when he recognized the guy standing in the hallway. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?" he demanded a second before he saw the stun gun. "Hey-wait!"But it was too late. He felt the blast, fell backward and watched his beer fall to the floor."Is he a suspect, Dad? Are you gonna arrest him?" Kristi demanded, ignoring the hot dog and c.o.ke her dad had bought her. He and Montoya had taken her to a hasty dinner in a little hamburger shack just off campus and he'd dropped the bomb-admitted that he'd been talking to Brian. A few other students were hanging out at the counter and she hid her head, didn't want to be seen with her dad when he was on duty."Let's just say he's a 'person of interest.' " Her father was seated across the table with its fake wood top. Bentz was all business." 'Person of interest.' What the h.e.l.l does that mean?""That I'm going to be watching him.""No." She wanted to shake some sense into her old man. "Are you trying to ruin my life? Because you are!" She shot a glance at Montoya. "He's just ha.s.sling Brian because I've been seeing him, right?""No. The dude could be bad." Montoya wasn't his usual self. Seemed harder, angry. Like the case was getting to him, too."What happened to 'innocent until proven guilty?' Huh? Isn't that what this country is all about. Jesus, Dad, give me some breathing room, okay?""This guy is dangerous.""The killer is dangerous, Dad. Not Brian. I know know him. He's not a killer." him. He's not a killer.""Bull. I want you to come home with me. Now." Bentz rose to his full height. "It's not safe here.""For who? Everyone? Or just me? Are you going to send everyone on campus home just because you think one of the T.A.s might know something about the murderers?"Bentz's jaw grew tight. "No, I guess I can't do that, but I can arrest him. There's enough circ.u.mstantial evidence to hold him for a while," he said, knowing that he was stretching the truth. He didn't have anything concrete. Just a gut feeling. And the p.r.i.c.k was seeing his daughter. But he had seen the bong and the empties in his apartment. He could bust the guy for drugs, and if he had any underage students in his apartment, for serving alcohol. "Either you come home with me, or I arrest him. What's it gonna be?""You're serious.""d.a.m.ned straight.""This is so outrageous. You'd embarra.s.s me?""In a heartbeat if I thought it would keep you alive," he said.Her chin shivered, then she clamped her jaw tight. "If you do this, I will never, never never forgive you." forgive you."He checked his watch. "You're got one hour to turn in your papers and pack. You can drive up here every day to attend your cla.s.ses. A bodyguard will come with you."" Like h.e.l.l. I"m eighteen. You can't force me-"The look in his eyes made her clamp her mouth shut. She was supposed to meet Brian at the library in half an hour.Then she could explain everything, but if she capitulated all of a sudden her dad would be suspicious. "So my choice is to leave school or be humiliated to death. Either way Brian will hate me.""You'll get over it.""You can really be a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, you know that, don't you?"He checked his watch. "You've got fifty-eight minutes."Olivia rang up the sale, quickly wrapped tissue paper around the cranberry-scented candles and handed the bag to a hefty woman with tight gray curls who smiled and wished her a "Merry Christmas." She winked as she tucked her bag under her arm. "Less than a month away, you know. Tomorrow's the first of December.""That it is, Merry Christmas to you, too." The woman bustled out of the store, jangling the jingle bells that hung from a bright red bow that Tawilda had tacked over the door.Olivia checked her watch ... only an hour until the shop closed. She planned to spend a couple hours in the library on campus and then go home and soak in a long bath. She didn't relish the thought of Christmas; this year would be the first without Grannie Gin and she was here in Louisiana, alone, instead of in Tucson where she'd made friends.Speaking of which, she was getting irritated with Sarah. It wasn't unusual not to hear from her friend for a week or two, but it wasn't Sarah's style not to call and tell her she'd made it home safely, that she'd really enjoyed staying with Olivia, or that she really loved Leo and couldn't go through with the divorce. Olivia had called her friend twice, leaving messages each time.Maybe Sarah was overwhelmed. It could be that the thought of the impending divorce coupled with the Christmas season was too much for her.And what about you? What are you going to do for Christmas? Who are you going to spend it with?Rick Bentz? Not hardly. Their conversations had been all business and she was still angry with him for not telling her about Father James McClaren.What about Father James? Oh, G.o.d, she didn't want to think about that. She'd nearly made love to him, barely a week after she'd done the same thing with his half brother. No, she was better off without a man in her life. She could make it on her own. In fact, she'd probably need years of therapy after the last two men in her life. Bentz had been bad enough, but then to nearly sleep with a priest. How desperate had she been? James McClaren was a good, kind man and she'd almost led him astray ... no, she wouldn't even go there.Thank G.o.d they'd stopped when they had, that they'd realized before it was too late that they'd come close to making a mistake that would have ruined their lives.The phone rang just as another customer walked through the door, jangling the jingle bells. "The Third Eye," Olivia said, picking up the phone."Hi, Livvie, did you have a nice Thanksgiving?" Bernadette asked."Yeah, I did," Olivia said automatically and tried to keep her cool. He mother was reaching out to her. That was good. Just don't let her get to you. Just don't let her get to you. "My friend Sarah, from Tucson, was with me." "My friend Sarah, from Tucson, was with me.""Good.""And you?""It was all right ... well, no, it wasn't. Jeb and I are splitting up. I decided you were right. I don't need this. I went to San Antonio, spent a weekend alone, and sorted it all out. I'd already filed papers a while ago, but the divorce was on hold, now ... I don't think I'll ever marry again."Olivia almost laughed. "I think you're the marrying y kind." As opposed to me, As opposed to me, she added silently. "So, you're okay with the divorce?" she added silently. "So, you're okay with the divorce?""Yes," Bernadette said firmly. "And I'm hoping that you and me, we can patch things up. I haven't been a great mother, I know that, but maybe now that you're grown we could be friends or something." Olivia was stunned. This was her mother talking? Self-centered Bernadette?"That would be nice ..." Olivia said then saw one of the women who had entered the store, a short, slim woman in a navy jacket, pocket a gla.s.s paperweight. "Uh ... I've got to run, Mom.""Before you go-"The shoplifter looked over her shoulder as she reached for another item, a crystal reindeer ornament, then, spying Olivia watching her, casually looked over the item and replaced it. Olivia was only half-listening to her mother. "The real reason I called is that I remembered a name a.s.sociated with the adoption of my son.""What?" Olivia asked. Now her attention was dragged from the shoplifter."It was Thomas.""Thomas?""Yes, I'm sure of it. My son was adopted by a couple named Thomas.""Thomas who?""I think it was their last name ... but maybe I'm mistaken ..." Bernadette faltered. "I overheard your grandmother talking once and she said something about the Thomases, I think. I hope this helps.""It does, Mom, thanks," Olivia said, her heart racing as the shoplifter edged toward the door. "Just a minute," she called to the woman and dropped the receiver. "I think you may have taken some merchandise-" The woman was out of the door in a heartbeat. Olivia gave chase, but as soon as she stepped out of the store, she lost the thief in the crowd. It was dark and raining and in her navy jacket she blended into the jostling crowd. Christmas lights illuminated Jackson Square but Olivia didn't feel the spirit. "Great, "Olivia muttered, unable to leave the shop alone. Tawilda wasn't due back from her dinner for another fifteen minutes.Olivia started into the store but caught her reflection in the window panes. Her hair was windblown and her face was pale. Taking a step toward the doorway, for the first time in a week, she sensed him ... saw a quicksilver image behind her own.No.The people on the street walking by shrank, the noise of the street seemed to fade and her head began to ache. He was there, staring back at her-blue eyes and dark hair, angular features, not unlike her own, but not Father James no .... and ... then he turned his vision to another spot ... as if someone had called his name. He focused on his quarry and Olivia saw the woman's face. The dull ache behind Olivia's eyes banged painfully. A young girl with long auburn hair and an att.i.tude of confidence ... a face Olivia had seen before, not in person, but framed as it was tonight, in a bifold picture sitting squarely in the middle of Detective Rick Bentz's desk.

Chapter Thirty-sixWhere the h.e.l.l was Brian? He was supposed to have met her fifteen minutes ago. Kristi stood on the porch of the library looking through the sheeting rain. It shimmered against the streets, and poured from the sky. Though barely five in the afternoon the day was gloomy and dark.And she only had seventeen minutes before she had to hook up with her dad in front of the dorm. She'd made the date with Brian five minutes before her dad had shown up. On the phone Brian had sounded weird, like he was high, or scared, or p.i.s.sed. p.i.s.sed. And who could blame him? Come And who could blame him? Come on. on. To have your girlfriend's dad, the cop, show up and start an interrogation. Her cheeks burned at the thought of it. Sometimes she hated her dad. To have your girlfriend's dad, the cop, show up and start an interrogation. Her cheeks burned at the thought of it. Sometimes she hated her dad.He's not really your dad, is he?Maybe that was the problem. Anyway around it, Bentz had only messed things up with Brian even more than they were to begin with.Ever since she'd gotten back from Thanksgiving, things had been strained with Brian. He'd been moody and uptight.Something was eating at him. He blamed the stress of the end of the term, that Zaroster had been giving him a hard time, but Kristi sensed there was more going on.They'd made out a couple of times, but she'd always broken it off because it hadn't felt right. There was something missing, something she couldn't define. She thought of Jay. He loved her. Brian didn't. She knew it and it almost seemed as if she was ... well, it seemed archaic, but it was almost as if he was using her, that she was just another conquest.That was backward thinking. She could turn it around, consider it the other way, that he was just another notch in her garter belt. Oh, yeah, right. Face it, Bentz, that's Face it, Bentz, that's not not the way you 're made. the way you 're made. She glanced up the street and saw his car slowly approaching. He hadn't stood her up! He was just late again. Waving, she pulled her hood over her hair and blinked against the rain as she jogged down the puddle-strewn path to the spot where he'd slowed. She glanced up the street and saw his car slowly approaching. He hadn't stood her up! He was just late again. Waving, she pulled her hood over her hair and blinked against the rain as she jogged down the puddle-strewn path to the spot where he'd slowed."Hi!" She climbed into the pa.s.senger seat, yanked the door shut and leaned over to kiss him, but he didn't respond, just stared straight ahead and pressed on the accelerator. Only then did she notice that there was someone in the back seat, a guy in a ski mask. Her breath stopped short. Oh, s.h.i.t. There was a collar around Brian's neck, some kind of weird-looking choker. "What's going on?" she asked, reaching for the door as the man behind her drew his arm around to the front and pointed a gun at her chest."No!" she screamed, reaching for the handle of the door. Her last thought was that her dad had been right. Oh, she'd been a fool. "Don't-"A jolt of electricity hissed through her body.Bentz glanced at his watch as his cell phone rang. He and Montoya were double parked in front of Cramer Hall waiting for Kristi. So far she was ten minutes late. He snapped on his cell. "Detective Bentz.""It's Olivia. He's hunting again," she said, her words pouring out in a rush. "He's looking for Kristi, Bentz; I saw through his eyes." Rick went cold to the bottom of his heart."What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?" No! It couldn't be. Not when he was here and Kristi was in her dorm. He started running. Fast. The cell phone was pressed to his ear and Montoya was on his heels. He pushed through a startled group of girls coming down the stairs."I'm saying he's after her, I think he's gotten her.""No. He can't have." Bentz wouldn't believe it."Wait a minute-" a woman behind the front desk called."I'm here at the dorm," he said into the phone."Find her!""I will.""Bentz, there's something else. My mother called. She said the couple who adopted my brother were named Thomas.""s.h.i.t!""And I can identify him." she added. "I saw his face.""Go to the station, have someone draw the composite and look at pictures of Brian Thomas. He's the guy Kristi's been dating." He clicked off as they took the stairs two at a time, then flipped the phone at Montoya. "Call for a backup. Send someone over to Brian Thomas's apartment. Olivia just identified him." He reached for his weapon, found Kristi's room and pushed open the door."What're you doing here?" Kristi's roommate asked. She twisted in her desk chair."Looking for my daughter. Where is she?" Panic squeezed his chest.Lucretia rolled her eyes. "Did she know you were coming? She left about half an hour ago.""To go where?" he demanded, his heart drumming with dread."I don't know. I think she said something about the library. I think she might've had a date with Brian Thomas, the T.A. You might want to warn her about that. She could get in big trouble, him being the T.A. for one of her cla.s.ses ..."He didn't hear the rest. He was already halfway down the hall."No, that's not him ..." Olivia insisted, shaking her head as she stared at a picture of Brian Thomas."It has to be." Bentz, seated on the other side of his desk, glared at her. The desk was strewn with files, the bulletin board covered with pictures of the crime scenes Olivia had seen in her mind's eye-the victims posed as saints-Cecilia, Mary Magdalen, Joan of Arc ... and the others. All brutal grisly scenes. And now Kristi was with the killer. Olivia's knees went weak. She sank into a desk chair.Bentz thumped a finger onto the grainy photo and leaned over the desk. "Look again," he ordered. "This has got to be our guy!"She studied the picture again. It was no use."I'm sorry, Rick. It's not him. I'm sure," she insisted, enduring Bentz's furious glare. She recognized the fear congealing in his expression, knew that he was dying inside, desperate to save his daughter. Olivia ached for him. For Kristi. Even now the girl could be dead ... or suffering some horrible torture. Olivia's blood was cold as ice water. "I wish I could help, but-""Then, try, d.a.m.n it. Give me a name. You said your mother thought a couple named Thomas adopted the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, so this is the guy!" He pounded a fist on his desk and forgotten coffee jumped out of a cup on the desk. "s.h.i.t!" He mopped up the spreading dark stain with his handkerchief."Get a grip, man," Montoya said, slipping through the doorway."Go to h.e.l.l!" Bentz pointed a d.a.m.ning finger at his partner, then something snapped in his face. He crammed the handkerchief into his pocket."You go first.""I'm already there."Montoya snapped back, "That makes two of us.""d.a.m.n." Sleeves rolled up, Bentz plowed his fingers through hair that hadn't seen a comb in hours. "Take her downstairs," he said, motioning toward Olivia. Their gazes touched and she saw more than fear, a deeper distrust in his eyes. "Work with the d.a.m.ned artist. Get me a sketch, a computer composite, anything, and get it fast!" He glance down at the photo of Kristi on his desk. His throat worked and his shoulders slumped, but only for a second. In the next breath he was angry all over again, the cords of his neck standing out, his lips flat against his teeth. "One way or another, if we have to tear that school apart, we've got to find that son of a b.i.t.c.h!" He motioned to Montoya. "Get pictures of every male over twenty who has stepped foot on All Saints in the last year or two." Bentz trapped Olivia in his determined stare. "Maybe you'll recognize one of them," he said coldly, as if he didn't trust her again. Just like before when she'd first entered this very office a few weeks earlier. As he if he couldn't stand gazing at her, he turned to Montoya. "Take her to the artist!"The phone shrilled and Bentz rotated a muscular shoulder, effectively ostracizing Olivia as he s.n.a.t.c.hed up the receiver. She got the message: he couldn't stand to be in the same room with her."Come on, let's check with the artist," Montoya said and she stood on wooden legs, managing to put some starch in her shoulders as she followed him downstairs.Three hours later after the artist and computer had come up with a reasonable sketch, she walked into the bright New Orleans night. Christmas lights glittered throughout the city, businesses were festooned with greenery, and even the police department was decorated for the holidays, but she couldn't conjure up a bit of Christmas spirit. Not a solitary drop. She climbed into her truck, thought about going back inside and facing Bentz again, but knew she'd only get in the way. She had no more information to give him.Hopefully he could save his daughter and locate the monster. The monster who could be your brother. The monster who could be your brother.d.a.m.n it all.Her cell phone beeped as she started the engine. She picked up and said, "h.e.l.lo?" as she checked traffic."Olivia?" Sarah said, her voice tremulous."Sarah!" Olivia felt a second's relief. "Where are you? I've been calling and calling. I keep getting your machine.""I didn't go back to Tucson.""What?" Sarah sounded strange. Maybe tired? Or so Olivia thought as she strained to hear her friend's voice over the rumble of the engine, the buzz of traffic and the crackle of a bad connection. "You didn't go back? But it's been over a week.""I know. I ... I thought I could work things out with Leo.""Wait a minute." Olivia switched off the fan for the defrost, hoping she could hear more clearly. "You said you were going through with the divorce.""I was ... I am ... I ... uh, I'm confused ..." That explained the weird tone to her voice. "I hoped that you would meet me at St. Luke's that we could talk to Father James."Olivia bit her lip as she thought of the priest. "Father James might not be available," she said, cringing at the thought of the slain altar boy. "There was trouble at the church last week.""I know, I heard about it, but... but I've already spoken with Father James. He wants you to be there.""Does he?" Olivia was surprised. Since the night of Mickey Gains's death they hadn't seen each other, hadn't so much as spoken. And wouldn't James rather speak to Sarah alone-to counsel her one-on-one? Or was there a chance he wanted to see Olivia again?"Please," Sarah said, sounding desperate.That did it. Her friend needed her. "When do you want me to meet you?" she asked."Soon. As ... as soon as possible." Sarah's voice wavered, as if she were on the verge of tears. "Father James is going to the church now."Olivia glanced at the clock in the car. It was nearly nine and she was dead tired. But Sarah needed her; Olivia a.s.sumed the strain in her friend's voice was because she felt foolish, that she'd hated to make the call and admit that she'd lied. "I can meet you in fifteen minutes.""Thanks, Livvie.""I'm on my way." Olivia hung up and put her car in gear. What the devil had gotten into Sarah? Olivia had known her friend hadn't wanted the divorce but when she'd left after Thanksgiving, Sarah had sounded so confident and sure of her decision. Maybe something else was going on. Olivia had the eerie sensation that something deeper was bothering Sarah. Or was Olivia just getting paranoid? All the murders were making her overly suspicious. Nonetheless as she turned on the fan and the window cleared well enough that she could pull into traffic, Olivia, picked up her cell phone again and punched a b.u.t.ton. The last caller was displayed. Olivia recognized Sarah's cell number. So now you're second guessing your best friend-bad karma, Olivia. So now you're second guessing your best friend-bad karma, Olivia.She nosed her truck through traffic and tried to shake the bad feeling that clung to her as surely as if it had claws. What was it? Why did she keep thinking something wasn't on the up and up. The trouble was Olivia had a bad feeling about everything these days. Her head still ached from the vision and she was worried sick about Kristi. She was just on edge. Jittery. That was it."Thanks, Livvie," Sarah had said. Which was odd. Sarah always called her Olivia except when she was teasing her ... but then Sarah obviously hadn't been herself tonight. Sarah had said. Which was odd. Sarah always called her Olivia except when she was teasing her ... but then Sarah obviously hadn't been herself tonight.She stopped at a red light and tapped her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Where had Sarah been staying this past week? With Leo? Were they back together? Then why the hesitation and ... fear, that was it, fear, in her voice. Jesus, surely Leo hadn't beaten her ... That son of a b.i.t.c.h!The light turned green and Olivia tromped on the accelerator, spraying water from the puddles that shimmered on the street. Her teeth gritted at the thought of her friend's loser of a husband. She ran the next yellow light and rounded the corner to spy St. Luke's three blocks down. Security lamps splashed against the whitewashed bell tower and a small creche was illuminated beneath the spreading magnolia tree. Wise men, angels, shepherds, Mary, Joseph and a manger with Baby Jesus lying swaddled in the straw. The church itself was dark except for a few exterior lights and a warm glow from the stained gla.s.s windows near the altar.Despite the nativity scene, the block was desolate, the street empty, most of the surrounding houses dark. Olivia turned into the rutted parking lot and scanned the area for Sarah's rental. No luck. Maybe she hadn't arrived yet.Odd. Sarah had sounded as if she was near the church or in the church ... maybe she'd already turned in the car.Climbing out of her pickup, feeling the night close in on her, Olivia pocketed her keys and avoided the puddles that collected on the uneven asphalt. She tried not to think of the last time she'd been here, of poor little Mickey Gains being ruthlessly slaughtered within the sacred walls of the church.Cinching her jacket more tightly, she headed for the main doors. A wind, dank with the scent of the river, moaned as it cut through the surrounding trees and the iridescence from the street lamps cast the street an eerie, watery blue. The hairs on the back of her neck raised as she strode along the sidewalk, but she dismissed any sense of premonition, blaming her case of nerves on her intricate knowledge of the murders and the fact that Kristi Bentz was missing. Still, the night felt creepy and out of sync.She was near the church doors when she heard a car on the next block. It's engine was racing, tires humming. Sarah!Turning, she spied a black European car fishtail around the corner, then scream to a stop in front of St. Luke's. Goose b.u.mps rose on Olivia's flesh. This was wrong. All wrong. She reached for the handle of the church door when she spied Sarah seated on the pa.s.senger side, through the window facing Olivia."Thank G.o.d!" Olivia whispered and started for the car ... but something was still wrong with Sarah. She wasn't getting out of the Mercedes. She was leaning against the window, barely moving. Pale and thin, she looked at Olivia with haunted, dark eyes. Slowly she shook her head."Sarah? What's wrong?" Olivia took two steps toward the sedan before she slid her gaze toward the driver. He had to be Father James, didn't he? But the car-the driver shoved open the door and swung onto the street. His alb shined pure white in the dark night.Instantly, Olivia recognized her mistake. This wasn't James, he wouldn't be wearing vestments. d.a.m.n.Her blood turned to ice. She stared straight into the cruel blue eyes of the killer."Oh, G.o.d ... no ..." What was Sarah doing with him? What the h.e.l.l was happening? "Drive away!" Olivia screamed, suddenly propelled into motion. She broke into a dead run. He rounded the Mercedes."Sarah! Drive!" d.a.m.n it, why wasn't Sarah moving?Olivia sprinted hard. Toward the parking lot. "Help me! Please! Someone, help us!" she screamed and heard him behind her. Lightning fast footsteps, closing in, slapping the pavement. Terror spurred her forward. Faster! Faster! Run faster! Faster! Faster! Run faster! She reached into her purse, her fingers scrabbling for her cell phone. Her pickup was only ten yards away. Five. s.h.i.t, he was closing in! She heard the sound of his breathing! Hard. Fast. She reached into her purse, her fingers scrabbling for her cell phone. Her pickup was only ten yards away. Five. s.h.i.t, he was closing in! She heard the sound of his breathing! Hard. Fast.Run! "Help! Someone! HELP!" Not one porch light snapped on. "Help! Someone! HELP!" Not one porch light snapped on.Her truck was so close! If she could just get inside! She glanced down at the phone in her hand. Managed to punch out 9-1-1."Ahhh!" Pain rocketed through her body. Gasping, she bounced against the fender, then fell to the ground. Her chin bounced on the asphalt, her purse and cell phone skated away. Lipstick, pens and wallet flew into the shadows.She'd been shot, she thought dully, aching everywhere, unable to move. The killer had shot her... at least her death would be quick ... no wheel of torture or burning at the stake or beheading.... Through blurry eyes, she saw him approaching and noticed his weapon, then went weak inside as she recognized the stun gun. No bullets. Just shock. She wasn't going to die quickly after all. She tried to scream. Couldn't muster a sound."Come along," he said in a calm, steady voice. "We have work to do, Bibiana.""No ..." she whispered, shaking her head weakly as he snapped a collar around her neck and dragged her back to his car. "No, no ... no ..." Her fingers sc.r.a.ped along the uneven pavement; blood dripped from her chin and the world was spinning crazily as she tried vainly to focus on a face that was similar to her own. Her brother ... So evil and vile in his white vestments. "b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she muttered. He cuffed her with the back of his hand, then yanked open the back door of his car.In the front seat, Sarah didn't so much as flinch."Help-" Olivia tried to cry out. If Sarah would help, there was a chance they could overpower him, but her friend was propped listlessly against the gla.s.s of the pa.s.senger window.She tried to kick. Missed. He clucked his tongue and shoved her into the backseat. "b.i.t.c.h." Olivia fought and was rewarded with a jolt that singed her neck and caused her body to arch. She screamed."Be calm!" he insisted, roughly pushing her into the backseat. As she fell inside, she thought she saw something in the shadows, a movement.Help me, she tried to yell, but no words came and pain screamed down her body. she tried to yell, but no words came and pain screamed down her body.The door slammed shut.Her murdering b.a.s.t.a.r.d of a brother climbed behind the wheel and accelerated away from the church. Lying on her back on a smooth leather seat, Olivia looked through the back window of the Mercedes and through the gla.s.s to the Stygian black heavens. She knew that if she didn't do something and soon, the monster would kill her, kill Sarah and kill Kristi.Give me strength, she silently prayed to the dark sky. She hoped to h.e.l.l that G.o.d was listening."I'm telling you he's got Olivia!" James screamed to the dispatch officer. Adrenalin shot through his veins and fear clutched his heart as he drove crazily through the thick traffic on the freeway. "Patch me in or get me Rick Bentz. The killer's got Olivia Benchet. I'm following them now ... but I'm afraid he's losing me. I'm on the freeway heading north, toward Baton Rouge!" The taillights of the Mercedes were visible in the darkness, three cars up and James lagged back though he knew nothing about tailing a vehicle ... only what he'd watched on some of those police shows on television. Who knew how accurate they were?"Sir, if you would-""Call Rick Bentz!" James repeated into his cell phone. "Do it now. now. Tell him his brother, James McClaren called and the killer's got Olivia! He grabbed her at St. Luke's. Her truck is still there. I'm on the 10 heading North. For G.o.d's sake, woman, send help!" Tell him his brother, James McClaren called and the killer's got Olivia! He grabbed her at St. Luke's. Her truck is still there. I'm on the 10 heading North. For G.o.d's sake, woman, send help!""Sir-""He's in a black Mercedes ... an older model, Louisiana plates but I don't have the number. I can't get close enough to see." James had walked out the side door of the church only to witness a priest dressed in a white alb stuffing a groggy woman into the car. In a split second James had recognized Olivia, then spotted her pickup in the empty lot. His own car had been parked around the corner. James had sprinted to his Chevy as he'd heard the Mercedes roar away. Muttering every prayer he could think of, James had climbed inside his car and ignored the speed limit as he'd taken off in the direction the black car had taken. By luck he'd seen the sleek car stuck at a traffic light. From there, he'd followed, his head pounding with fear, his hands sweaty over the steering wheel. "You've got to send someone," he screamed at the dispatcher. "I could lose them, and whatever else you do, call Detective Rick Bentz," he ordered as his cell phone began to bleep and sputter as the battery died. "d.a.m.n it all... Father, if you're listening, please, help me save them. I beg of you." He ended his prayer and slammed the phone down, then concentrated on the traffic, ribbons of red taillights in front of him, the Mercedes moving easily up the freeway.His fingers clenched around the steering wheel in a death grip. Not Olivia, he thought frantically. Oh, G.o.d, not Olivia. Could this be his punishment? For all his sins? No ... oh, G.o.d no. He made a quick sign of the cross and fought tears that burned hard against the back of his eyes. "Please, Father, take me ... spare her, I beg of you ... take my life first."She should recognize him, Olivia thought as the car turned off the smooth road to bounce through the darkness. Dried weeds brushed the sides of the Mercedes and the tires spun against gravel. Sarah hadn't moved. The driver had been quiet and when she'd tried to open the back door several times, she'd found it locked. So who was he and where were they? She'd seen enough to know that they'd headed north toward Baton Rouge, but when he'd taken an unfamiliar exit off the freeway, she'd become disoriented in the darkness. They'd left the city lights long behind them to this desolate stretch of land ... He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She froze. Every time he caught her moving, he did something and stinging, burning pain shot through her body, an electrical shock that made her cry out and brought tears to her eyes. She tugged at the collar, but it was locked and he was watching her in the rearview mirror, somehow able to discern any movement and shoot a jolt of electricity through her. Or perhaps he was playing with her, trying to scare her or beat her into a near-catatonic state. Like Sarah.That was it! Mind games... learned behavior... psychology ... She closed her eyes for a minute but her mind was racing in circles. She called up the names of the newly christened babies from the sheet that Father James had given her. She'd gone over them dozens of times . . . Thomas . . . Brian Thomas was the only baby listed with the last name of Thomas."Who are you?" she cried, her toe inching toward the door again.Zap! Pain sizzled through her throat. She squealed."Ask nothing," he commanded. "Don't speak."As the car turned sharply and bounced upon a rutted road, Sarah began to mewl."You, too, shut up!" he growledThomas ... she went through the list again, remembering the names. Bill and Monica Trent, Seth and Rosemary Bailey, Ralph and Primrose Stafford ... but ... but wasn't there a ... then it hit her ... ... she went through the list again, remembering the names. Bill and Monica Trent, Seth and Rosemary Bailey, Ralph and Primrose Stafford ... but ... but wasn't there a ... then it hit her ... Tom Tom and Frieda Sutter had christened a baby boy. Tom as in Thomas and the baby's name had been ... William, no, Warren ... Warren Sutter ... the name rang a distant bell. She'd heard it somewhere. Hadn't she? Or was she imagining it? Her head pounded, her muscles were weak and she was vaguely aware that the car was slowing. Warren Sutter... Oh, G.o.d ... She'd heard the name at Tulane! Hadn't Dr. Leeds mentioned him by name when Leeds had been late for his appointment with Olivia? He'd said something about getting caught in a conversation with Dr. Sutter ... her brother ... a s.a.d.i.s.tic murderer. Not a priest but a professor. and Frieda Sutter had christened a baby boy. Tom as in Thomas and the baby's name had been ... William, no, Warren ... Warren Sutter ... the name rang a distant bell. She'd heard it somewhere. Hadn't she? Or was she imagining it? Her head pounded, her muscles were weak and she was vaguely aware that the car was slowing. Warren Sutter... Oh, G.o.d ... She'd heard the name at Tulane! Hadn't Dr. Leeds mentioned him by name when Leeds had been late for his appointment with Olivia? He'd said something about getting caught in a conversation with Dr. Sutter ... her brother ... a s.a.d.i.s.tic murderer. Not a priest but a professor.Brittle gra.s.s sc.r.a.ped the underbelly of the car as it twisted and turned along a long, dark lane. Olivia's heart pounded crazily. He was taking them to some remote, isolated spot-just like he did with the women found butchered in the mill. Dear G.o.d ... how could she save herself? Sarah? Kristi... where was Bentz's daughter? A dozen horrifying scenarios scorched her mind. Was she alive?The Mercedes's tires crunched on gravel as the car slowed, rolling to a stop. He cut the engine. It cooled and ticked, but there were other sounds as well ... the low, mournful rush of the wind, Sarah's whimpering and more ... the m.u.f.fled howl of dogs.Sarah was shaking in the front seat, staring through the windshield. Obviously she'd been here for days, possibly a week, and whatever she'd seen in this building ... Olivia trained her eyes on the tall structure. Dark and looming with a peaked gables, it rose from the ground, a barn with a sharply pitched roof. The baying was coming from inside and it was scaring the h.e.l.l out of Sarah.And why wouldn't it? Think of what this man's capable ofOlivia's throat went dry with fear.Whatever was inside the dark structure, it meant certain death.He'd climbed out of the car, rounded it and opened one back door. "Come along, Bibiana ... or do you prefer Vivian?" he asked, then answered, "No, I prefer Bibiana. You're home now and Lucy is waiting.""I don't know any Lucy," she rasped out, but her heart chilled. She knew what was coming."Surely you do, Bibiana. You're a clever one, aren't you? With your visions and all. You know who Lucy is, there's no reason for denial.""Kristi," she whispered, sick inside. Though she'd expected it. Bentz's daughter. But at least she was alive.And probably tortured. Maybe disfigured ..."I knew you'd figure it out." Remote control aimed at her throat, he yanked first Sarah, then Olivia from the car. "Make one false step and I'll zap you. And your friend as well. If you try to escape, the other women will suffer. Horribly."Olivia bit her lip. She withered inside. She knew he meant every word. But it was all too horrible. To think that Bentz's daughter was to be sacrificed as St. Lucy ... but the feast day was over a week away, nearly two. Maybe Kristi could escape before she met her horrid end. Somehow Olivia would help her get free.Olivia's own death was imminent, within days, she remembered, but still there was time for Kristi."Hurry up, Bibiana, your fate awaits. You know what that is, don't you?"It came to Olivia in a horrid rush. She remembered studying the martyred saints for the coming months. St. Bibiana had died monstrously, flogged until she was bleeding and then ... then fed to the dogs.She heard the howling again, a deep, insidious rumbling that echoed through the night. Terror sliced through her. She didn't have to be told that the dogs were hungry, probably half starved.Sarah mewled and cowered as he herded them both toward the horrid, monstrous edifice.There was no escape. The forest closed around them, the smell of the river musty and thick. A drizzle as dense as fog collected in patches. Each time Olivia took a misstep, he blasted her and she went weak. "Move it!" he snapped, his patience worn thin. She had to get the stun gun from him and turn the weapon on him. Somehow ... when the time was right. He prodded them through the door, forcing them inside a long hallway without windows. At a door at the end of a hall, the dogs were scratching and snarling.Olivia nearly threw up.Take him-try and overpower him. Don't let him lock you in here or you're dead for sure!Her heart pounded. Her chin throbbed. She was so weak, but if she could grab his weapon.Ignoring the stairs leading upward, Sutter pushed them forward. "Hurry up."Try to take him, Olivia! You have no choice. Otherwise you, Sarah and Krisiti are as good as dead!Sarah's cries were louder. Tears ran down her face. "No ... no ... no ..." She hung back and he shoved her hard as he opened the door and snapped on the lights.Now!Olivia lunged. Scratching and clawing, fighting for the control.Sarah screamed and fell into the horrid room. "For G.o.d's sake, Sarah, help me!" Olivia yelled.With a yowl, Warren pushed on the remote and agony shrieked through Olivia's body. She scratched at his eyes, her fingernails sc.r.a.ping skin from his cheek.He backhanded her into the room. "You stupid, stupid c.u.n.t!"She fell to the floor, sc.r.a.ping her knee. Though she didn't move, he jolted her again. Pain ripped through her muscles. She screamed.Again he pressed the horrid b.u.t.ton. Her body flailed. Pain sizzled down her spine. She shrieked in agony.Again!"No-oooohhhhh!" She couldn't breathe.Again!He didn't stop until she was gasping and crying, her throat raw from screaming, every nerve in her body jangled as she flopped on the filth-encrusted floor. Lying on patches of straw she saw the dogs ... chained but pacing near their kennels."Now, Bibiana, obey, or I'll set the dogs on you," he snarled and Olivia didn't have any strength left to fight him. She could barely lift her head to study the cavernous room. Red illumination offered a dim view of a filthy lair, where the two dogs paced near their metal cages and a girl, naked, was chained to the opposing wall.Kristi.Olivia retched.How could she possibly save them? How? How?This windowless room was a grotesque torture chamber. And a horrid shrine. Mounted between hideous whips and chains and swords, in stark, blasphemous contrast, were intricate crosses, crucifixes and religious symbols, including a picture of St. Mary. As if that wasn't enough, the room had dozens of mirrors tacked to the wall, glittering in the red light, reflecting every inch of the grotesque den. The mirrors gave her a view of herself and what was happening behind her while she watched the others ... sick, oh, so twisted ...Terror, the like of which she'd never known, turned her insides to jelly. Whatever was to happen here would be horrendous."Where is Brian, Sutter?" Kristi demanded, straining at her shackles, her lean, athletic body tense. She was as furious as Sarah was docile. "You son of a G.o.dd.a.m.ned b.i.t.c.h, what the h.e.l.l did you do with Brian?""Tut, tut, Lucy, such language." Sutter's eyes sparked cruelly. "Never take the Lord's name in vain," he warned. take the Lord's name in vain," he warned.Oh, no-"I'm not f.u.c.kin' Lucy, okay-and oh!" Her body arced as he aimed a remote control at her. She fell onto dirty hay. "You b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" Another jolt and she jumped, screaming, "You're an animal! Worse than an animal! Worse that your ugly dogs. You get your jollies torturing women, don't you? Well, listen up! My dad is going to f.u.c.king kill you. Whatever you do to me is gonna be nothing compared to what he'll do to you! It'll be a million times worse when he gets ahold of you, you son of a b.i.t.c.h."He blasted her with the stun gun, then pressed the remote for good measure. Kristi screamed and flailed in wild agony, the dogs howled and snarled and Sarah wailed piteously."Shut up," Sutter screamed. He slapped Sarah against the wall. "I've had it with your whining!" He pounced on her, gagged her with a piece of tape hanging on the wall and snapped a chain to her collar. His alb was now dirty and he was sweating, his skin glowing red in the light. Olivia edged toward the stairs and was rewarded with another blast from the stun gun. "Strip," he ordered and then tore off Sarah's clothes, literally ripping them from her body. She was terrified, screaming, and he jolted her into submission as her limbs jerked like a marionette.Olivia didn't move."I said 'strip'," he repeated and his gaze narrowed on her. "Or would you rather me do it for you, sister?" Pure evil twisted his lips. Pinpoints of l.u.s.t shined red in his eyes.She had to do his bidding.For now.But only for now. She already felt her strength returning a bit ... she just needed time to recover."Now!" he bellowed.Quivering with fear, her mind racing to find a means of escape she began to unb.u.t.ton her shirt. She pretended not to notice his erection, stiff and protruding against his vestment. Dirty, sick pervert, Dirty, sick pervert, she thought, pulling her arms free of her sleeves. she thought, pulling her arms free of her sleeves.She swallowed back her disgust. I'll get out of here and I'll take them with me, even if I have to kill you myself, I'll get out of here and I'll take them with me, even if I have to kill you myself, she silently vowed. She couldn't allow fear to get the better of her. She had to be sane. Think straight. Find a way to get free. she silently vowed. She couldn't allow fear to get the better of her. She had to be sane. Think straight. Find a way to get free.

Chapter Thirty-seven"I'll kill him with my bare hands," Bentz muttered as his Jeep barreled off the freeway to this G.o.dforsaken strip of brushy farmland. Flat and dark with thickets of scrub oak and pine. "If he touches so much as one hair on Kristi or Olivia's head, I swear to G.o.d, I'll rip his f.u.c.kin' head off."Montoya glowered into the foggy night, smoking a cigarette, listening to the police band. "You won't get the chance. I'll blow him away, man." He patted his sidearm. Was it enough? As smoke drifted from Montoya's nostrils, Bentz silently prayed they could save them.He'd heard the replay of James's call, and police from several jurisdictions were converging on a piece of property near the river not fifteen miles from Baton Rouge. The Baton Rouge Police had been called and they'd gotten into Sutter's home where they'd searched and come up with an address for another piece of property ... one that was located on the river, an old farm that had once been owned by Tom and Freda, Sutter's adoptive parents. But they were behind Bentz. Because of the homing device he'd surrept.i.tiously mounted behind the rear b.u.mper of James's car, he was closer to the farm. He heard the other sirens, but they wailed in the distance.He prayed that he wasn't too late as the miles of old asphalt rolled under the Jeep's tires.If only Kristi and Olivia were still alive. His daughter meant everything to him ... everything everything. If he lost her ... his throat clogged. He'd never forgive himself. Why hadn't he saved her when he'd had the chance? Why had he let her go back in that dormitory alone? Why, why, why? He beat on the steering wheel and Montoya flipped his cigarette through a crack in the window. Bentz told himself not to think the worst. Kristi was alive. She had to be. And Olivia. He ached when he thought that she, too, was in the monster's clutches, maybe even dead. He'd been so cold to her earlier. Not just detached, but ruthless and mean. He'd seen the pleading in her eyes, the silent need to connect with him and he'd cut her loose. Because he was scared for his daughter. Because he was p.i.s.sed that she'd been with James.And now ... now he might have already lost her. His jaw clenched so hard it ached. His throat burned. Olivia-why hadn't he trusted her? Forgiven her? Told her he loved her before it was too late? Now, the two women he cared about were in horrid peril. Because he'd failed to save them.And what about James? According to the homing device James had followed the Mercedes to the Stutter farm. His life too was in serious danger. Everyone Bentz held dear was caught up in this vile mess ... their lives in jeopardy. Bentz tried not to think about the horrors the killer had committed ... the photographs that he'd mounted on his bulletin board and committed to memory, the b.l.o.o.d.y crime scenes. According to the homing device James had followed the Mercedes to the Stutter farm. His life too was in serious danger. Everyone Bentz held dear was caught up in this vile mess ... their lives in jeopardy. Bentz tried not to think about the horrors the killer had committed ... the photographs that he'd mounted on his bulletin board and committed to memory, the b.l.o.o.d.y crime scenes."The b.a.s.t.a.r.d's goin' down," Montoya said as they spun around a corner and a skunk, caught in the Jeep's headlights, waddled quickly into a ditch. "And if he's got Marta, he'll wish he'd never set eyes on her. Or me." Montoya glanced at Bentz and for once there wasn't the hint of the younger man's usual c.o.c.kiness. In the dark car, his face illuminated by the glow of the dash lights, Montoya was sober as death, his face hard with conviction. "He's goin' down," Montoya vowed again. "Even if I have to go with him.""I'm with ya," Bentz said and eased off the throttle as he glimpsed the turn-off for the lane leading to Sutter's farm. His headlights flashed on a rusted, listing mailbox, its door gaping open in the rising mist. Bentz's heart clenched as he cranked on the steering wheel.G.o.d help him if he was too late."Help me, Father," James whispered, sneaking through the wet gra.s.s and overgrown bushes that surrounded the building. Mist was his cover, fear his companion. Dogs were baying from within the tall, gloomy building. Despair congealed in James's heart, but he forced himself toward the door, his footsteps m.u.f.fled by wet leaves and bent gra.s.s. This was a test, surely. The Father was challenging his courage.James would have the element of surprise on his side but he had no real weapon, nothing to use in a battle aside from the useless cell phone in his pocket and a bottle of wiper cleaner that he hoped to squirt in the killer's eyes. Stupid. Another TV cop trick. But all he had.Remember Daniel and the lion's den.Maybe he would find something inside to help him ... a shotgun or a knife or ... Could he do it? Could he take another life? It was a sin ... He'd reached the door and he pushed all of his vows out of his mind. He had to save Olivia ... nothing else mattered. He made a quick sign of the cross, then g