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Note from the Author
Acknowledgments
A Sneak Peek at the First Book in the Erin Delaney Series
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
He uncovers deep things out of darkness, and brings the shadow of death to light.
—Job 12:22
Prologue
Her will to fight was fueled more by fear than resolve, but it was all she had left. She stumbled down the dark hallway, fingers fumbling along the wall, searching for a way out. There was still a flame burning in her soul, willing her to battle for freedom. How could this have happened? Who had betrayed her? Forced her into this nightmare? Was anyone coming for her? She whispered a prayer to a God she wasn’t sure was listening. Would He save her? Or had He abandoned her?
A sound from the other end of the hallway caused her to stop. She pressed herself against the wall as if the action could make her invisible. The floor beneath her rolled like restless waves on a deadly sea that was attempting to pull her under. She laid her cheek on the cool plaster, forcing herself to concentrate on its firmness rather than her unreliable surroundings. She waited for what seemed like hours but could only have been a few minutes. Silence. She finally began to creep forward again, using her hands to propel her farther down the hall.
She squinted, trying to clear her clouded vision. That’s when she saw it. Bright red letters. EXIT. That was it. What she’d been praying to find. This might be her last chance. Her only chance. She moved away from the wall and tried to run, but she stumbled and fell. On her knees, she crawled toward the red letters that seemed to be flashing out a different word. Deliverance. But as she finally pulled herself up and pushed against the door, hands grabbed her from behind. She felt the sting from the needle jabbed into her arm, and she melted into a darkness that began to overwhelm her. The last thing she felt were the tears that coursed down her cheeks as she resigned herself to her fate.
CHAPTER
ONE
Waiting for her to return to town had pushed his desire for her death to its breaking point. He could have killed her before this, but he had planned her demise to the finest detail and had no intention of altering things in any way. It was perfection. It was vengeance.
River Ryland’s time was almost up. And he could almost taste victory.
“WHY ARE YOU staring at me?”
River’s question jarred Tony. He didn’t realize he’d been looking so intently across the office at his partner. There was something on her mind. Something she wasn’t saying, and it worried him.
“Sorry. I was thinking about something and just happened to be looking your way. It’s nothing creepy, I promise.”
Even though River had been quiet, and clearly tense since they’d returned from visiting his family in Iowa before Christmas, she laughed lightly. “I didn’t say it was creepy, although I have to admit it’s making me a little nervous. I was beginning to wonder if I’d forgotten my makeup or something.”
“No, but you don’t wear that much anyway. Not sure if I’d know the difference.”
It was true. A little blush and mascara were all she used—and all she needed. River had a natural beauty. Creamy complexion, captivating green eyes shaped like her Vietnamese mother’s, and the kind of full lips other women got injections to achieve. Of course, River didn’t believe she was beautiful, which made her even more alluring.
“Not really the point,” she said. “You’re worried about the Strangler’s little friend, aren’t you?”
A serial killer they’d profiled when they worked for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit had been caught and convicted, but much to their surprise, they’d discovered after he was sent to prison, that he’d been working with a partner. This man had threatened to finish the job the Salt River Strangler had failed to accomplish—the death of River Ryland, the only woman to survive him. They’d become aware of his protégé’s existence after they’d moved to St. Louis and opened a private detective agency. Now, they were trying to get their business off the ground with a deadly threat hanging over their heads. Tony had done everything he could think of to protect them. Cameras in the office and in the hallway, as well as the assistance of his friend, the police chief of St. Louis. Of course, he and River were armed. Always. Tony was aware that this wouldn’t protect them from a long-range assassin’s bullet. He pushed that thought from his mind. This guy wouldn’t do it that way. He’d want to be up close and personal. It was the only way he would enjoy killing her. Tony was confident he’d picked the Mississippi River for River’s final resting place since they were no longer in Arizona, where he and his mentor had focused their reign of terror.
Tony took a deep breath before saying, “Look, I know something’s wrong, River. Why won’t you talk to me about it? I thought we could discuss anything. I’m really starting to worry.”
She looked away from him and bit her lower lip, a sure sign she was hiding something. He knew it . . . and so did she. Their expertise in reading body language meant that it was almost impossible to disguise their feelings from one another.
“I guess waiting for our stalker to strike is making me antsy.”
Although it was the right thing to say, and it was exactly what he’d been wondering, for some reason her response struck a wrong chord in his gut.
“Surely you’re not thinking about what my sister said.”
When they were in Iowa, helping Tony’s father with a cold case, his sister, Aimee, had accused River of putting Tony in danger because of the Strangler. At one point, River had wondered if she should get far away from Tony until the man was caught. But in the end, everyone had agreed, even Aimee, that they were both safer together. That splitting up could make them easier targets. River had concurred—or at least she’d said she did.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere. Why would you even bring that up?”
Even though her body language seemed to match her words, an alarm went off in Tony’s spirit. “Listen,” he said, getting up from his chair and walking over to her desk, “promise me that you won’t even think about leaving me. It’s the wrong decision, River. You might think you’re protecting me, but you’re not. Confronting us both is a lot more intimidating. Sacrificing yourself for me could kill us both.”
Her eyes widened at his declaration, and he felt sick inside. It confirmed his worst fear. She really had been thinking about taking off.
“Aimee made a good case . . .” she said, her voice faltering.
“No she didn’t.” He spoke more harshly than he meant to. He breathed in and out slowly, trying to control the rapid beating of his heart. “Aimee is my sister and she loves me, but she doesn’t have the training we do. She spoke out of a concern for me—not from any kind of knowledge or experience. Please tell me you understand that.” He pulled a chair up next to her desk and sat down. “We’ve got to trust the Lord . . . and each other, River. If you left . . .” His voice broke, and he was horrified to feel tears fill his eyes. What would she think? If she knew how he really felt, would that concern her? Make her rethink their friendship? They’d skated around their feelings for each other for a while now, but neither one of them had come out and said the three words that couldn’t be taken back.
Rather than looking repulsed, she reached out for his hand. After a brief hesitation, he put his hand in hers.
