To Die: Chosen To Die Part 43

My jaw aches now, thinking about you.

I surface as if from a dream. I've spent too much time thinking about the past while running after Regan. Caught in my reminiscence, I've run on instinct, following her, but not closing the distance.

No more!

Now, I focus.

Run faster.

Feel my heart beating and the coil of rope jostle with my strides. My grip on the hilt of my knife never lessens and I start closing the gap, running faster, dragging cold air between my teeth, my gaze as always, centered upon my prey: Regan's athletic backside.

She's s.e.xy in a very earthy, darkly feminine way.

But now she's really slowing. Laboring. Those long, athletic legs straining.

This, I realize with a deep sense of self-satisfaction, is going to be easy.

Brandy Hooper was already dead, her skin blue, the gouges in her flesh attesting to her struggle against the rope that bound her to the tall, lone fir tree. A star had been carved into the bark of the tree above her head, and with it a note had been nailed into the trunk. Alvarez read it as a gust of frigid wind caused the page in her hand to flap and moved the stiff, frozen strands of the dead girl's hair. As predicted, this message was identical to one Manny Douglas had received.

"G.o.d save us," Alvarez said, feeling a quiet rage simmering deep within. Instinctively, for the first time in a long, long while, she made the sign of the cross over her chest, an automatic response from her childhood. As soon as she realized what she'd done, she felt embarra.s.sed, flushing even in the harsh cold.

What the h.e.l.l was that all about?

It's Christmas and you're scared to death.

She cleared her throat as she observed the dead girl, a woman who had intended to become a doctor, whose life work was to be healing people. "This means that Elyssa O'Leary's dead, too," Alvarez said and heard the fatalistic note in her voice.

"We don't know that." Grayson's expression was hard and he shook his head slightly, as if denying what was so obvious.

And Pescoli, what about her? Alvarez couldn't stop thinking about her partner. Where was she? In what condition? Oh, Jesus. She had to stop herself from making the sign of the cross again. This case was eating at her, digging at her from the inside out.

The crime scene team was on its way, the area cordoned off by deputies.

"I've seen enough," she said, turning away, sensing the grains of sand slipping through the hourgla.s.s. There was nothing left to do for Brandy Hooper, but maybe they could still save Elyssa O'Leary. Who are you kidding? You just said she's dead. You know it!

But Regan Pescoli. She was still alive. Oh, G.o.d, she hoped so. And they had to find her.

"Billy Hicks did this," Alvarez said, knowing it deep in her heart, urgency propelling her. Hicks was upping his game. What if he decided to kill again? What was to stop him?

"We'll go to his cabin," Grayson said.

The skies had cleared enough that the helicopters were up and Grayson had ordered the pilots to search the area near the old Kress Silver Mine. But it wasn't enough for Alvarez.

"We need evidence," Grayson reminded her as they headed for her Jeep. "Linking Billy to the crime."

"We'll find it." She was already opening the driver's door. "Let's just get to his place."

"Make it fast," Grayson stated grimly.

Oh, G.o.d, oh, G.o.d, don't give up. Don't!

Regan was gasping for air, her mind racing as she tried to think of a way to save herself. Hicks was closing in on her; there wasn't much time.

The snow had stopped and she could see farther, though the sun against all the whiteness was blinding and she still didn't know where she was.

In a physical struggle with him, she would lose.

Since she'd lost the knife, she had no weapon aside from a screwdriver.

She had to outwit him.

Somehow.

But inside she was shredding.

The physical toll was too much, draining her mentally as well.

Gasping, her heart feeling as if it would burst, she slogged forward, downward to G.o.d only knew where. The trees had given way and she was in an open glen, it seemed, and ahead, an extremely flat area, rimmed by the forest.

What? Why was the ground so perfectly even?

A lake!

Frozen solid.

Snow covering the ice.

If she could reach the place before he caught her, the frozen water, maybe she could lure him out on it. He outweighed her by at least seventy pounds, and the rope was heavy, adding even more weight. There was a chance he would fall through first.

This is a crazy idea. You'll fall through the ice and drown.

But so will he.

And she was running out of options. Fast.

Better to try anything than let the son of a b.i.t.c.h kill her without a fight.

Bring it on, Billy. I'm ready!

Chapter Thirty-One.

I shouldn't be surprised.

As I run after her, I know she's a cretin.

Pescoli, the supposedly smart detective, is just like the others in that inept sheriff's department that rejected my application. Well, take that, Grayson. How does it feel? To be the laughingstock of the whole d.a.m.ned country! That's right, a.s.shole, the press, from as far away as Nashville and LA, are looking at you and your ridiculous force being made to look like imbeciles by me, someone not good enough. Well, put that in your pipe and smoke it!

What the h.e.l.l is she doing running straight at the lake? Another stupid decision!

No doubt Regan Pescoli laughed at me, too, over and over again. All those times I came to pick up my loser of a father from the cell where he was held, "sleeping it off."

Yeah, she had some fun at my expense. b.i.t.c.h! So much like all the others. Common, brainless, cruel wh.o.r.es!

The only kind woman I ever met was Padgett.

My throat closes at the thought of her.

Beautiful.

Sophisticated.

With intelligent blue eyes and loving hands.

She hadn't laughed.

Hadn't avoided me because I was crazy Ivor Hicks's son.

Even when her father had banned us from seeing each other, she snuck out to be with me. At the time, so long ago, I wondered if her interest was only an act of defiance. But I hadn't cared. I'd won the prize! She was the only bright spot in my otherwise dreary, pathetic life.

I smile at the thought of her, sliding a bit, and I catch myself. I'm getting a little winded, my legs beginning to cramp. I have to end this soon.

For me.

For Padgett.

I promised her then, as we made love under the summer stars, that I would always keep her safe.

Of course, it had turned out to be a lie.

How was I to know that Brady followed us? Took pictures of us in each other's arms? Snapshots of Padgett's naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s, of me holding her as I came? Who would have thought he would have taken something so beautiful and made it so ugly and dirty, showing the photographs to Padgett's father?

The old man had been beside himself, had banned us from ever seeing each other again. If that hadn't been bad enough, Padgett had made the fatal mistake of going boating with her brother.

And she nearly died.

That brainless a.s.shole had tried to kill her!

There's no doubt in my mind that Brady wanted her dead. Well, he's gone now, too.

Because of me. Because of my patience. There were plenty of other times in the past fifteen years that I was near enough to strangle him, or stick a knife right through his black heart. But I waited. The opportunities weren't right.

This time, however, everything fell perfectly into place.

And Brady bled out looking at me, knowing that I killed him, realizing that his sins were finally punished.

Everything I've planned for so long has worked out. Everything except for Pescoli, and that's only a matter of a few more minutes.

I watch her run straight at the frozen lake. Where does she think she'll go? Onto the ice? No way. So she's run out of places to hide. Good.

I push myself, getting close enough to see the panic in her eyes as the b.i.t.c.h takes a quick glance over her shoulder.

That's right, Detective, I'm coming.

Spurred onward, Regan headed straight for the huge expanse of even landscape, sunlight glancing off spots where ice still showed through the white blanket. It was her only chance for salvation.

She cast another quick look behind her.

G.o.d, he was so close. Maybe only fifteen or twenty yards!

He was smiling, but then, as if he suddenly understood her intention, shook his head. "Stop! You stupid-"

She didn't wait to hear the rest of his oath.

Over the pounding of her heart, the pulse throbbing in her brain, his voice faded.

Despite the pain searing through her body she ran onward. Hard. Plowing a trail that he could follow straight at the lake. Her feet slid a little as she hit the ice, the snow slipping over the frozen water.

"No!" Hicks's voice boomed across the wide expanse, and she just kept running, feeling nothing but solid ice beneath her, heading to the middle of the expansive lake. Cougar Basin, she thought as she spied Mesa Rock rising nearby. That's where she was.

If there were only some way to call someone. Tell them. But she was all alone. No one in sight, only her own ragged breathing making a sound.

I should have brought a gun.

The rifle or her d.a.m.ned pistol!

But in my hurry of unloading the truck, in my panic to chase her down, I left the weapons in the truck and grabbed the rope. I didn't want to use the guns, thought the crack of gunshot so close to my own home might attract attention I couldn't afford. And I didn't want to shoot her. What would be the fun of that-a distant taking of life? If a quick killing were what I needed, then I would have shot all the women in their cars, just taken them out as they were driving, then carrying them back to my place to nurture them, heal them, bring them to the brink of falling in love with me...

So I didn't bring a gun, not even to intimidate her, as I knew it wouldn't. And the d.a.m.ned truth of the matter is I thought catching her would be far easier than it has proved to be.

Now she's running onto the lake! G.o.d knows part of it is frozen solid, and even in the middle there has to be several inches of ice, but still, it's dangerous.

"Stop," I command again and the idiot just keeps on running, slipping and sliding through the pristine layer of snow covering the icy surface.

I follow. It's solid under my feet. Nothing shifting. It's probably safe.

Probably.

And I'll catch her.

But I have to be cautious. Listen for that cracking that spells death.