She could barely make out his features now, but she could see his face twist into a frown. “One thing I have to know. Just when did you realize who I was?”
“You did a great job of changing the way you look. The glasses, colored contacts, the beard and mustache. We didn’t recognize you at all until we talked in the parking lot. You were upset about the trash near your car. You forget that we watched you testify. Spent time with you. Watched the way you move. The way you talk. You have an odd way of pronouncing the word debris. You add an ‘s’ to the word. You said it that night. And when you walk, you favor your right leg. I suspect you were injured at some point in your life?”
“I broke my leg when I was a kid. Or, I should say, my mother broke it when I didn’t eat the moldy bread she ordered me to ingest when I was seven.”
“So you blame your mother for your twisted psyche? I know people who’ve gone through worse things than you can imagine but overcame them. I don’t feel sorry for you.”
He hesitated a moment, probably trying to control his rage. David Prescott wanted to kill her—but he had a plan. He wouldn’t allow her to upset him and destroy his carefully constructed agenda. If she could just ignite his anger, she might be able to overcome him.
“And then of course we realized that the name of your company—TSRS—were initials for the Salt River Strangler, not the Thomas Sullivan Recovery Service.”
“Why didn’t you just call the police? I have to say, that would have been the smarter choice.”
At that moment, she was thinking the same thing. “We wanted you to admit who you were. We had no evidence, and Baker won’t rat you out. So we decided to set a trap. One where you would try to kill me. Where you would admit to your crimes. Just like you are now.”
“And then your police friends would swoop in and save you? And arrest me?”
“That was the idea. We know how you think. It wouldn’t take long for your narcissism to make you confess to everything you’ve done.” She frowned at him. “My turn. How did you find out about the tracker on your car?”
He laughed again, but the sound of it gave her shivers. “Pure luck. Some guy who works for a graphic design firm a few doors down from my office saw Tony under my car. Asked if I was having car trouble. I found it odd that he would be messing with my car, so I checked it out. Found your tracker.” He sighed. “It is really cold out here, and it’s getting dark. Let’s get this over with, shall we?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a zip tie. “You know the drill, right? Hands in front of you.”
River hesitated.
“Obey me now, or I’ll shoot you in the leg and do it myself. That choice would be much more painful for you.”
River held her hands out in front of her, and he put the tie around her wrists. Then he pulled it so tight she cried out.
“Shut up,” he barked. He pushed her down, grabbed her legs and then yanked another tie from his pocket. She watched as he put his gun down, pulled her ankles together, and zip-tied them as well. Was there some way to get his gun? Were the police and Tony relying on the tracker, or had they actually followed David’s car? It was beginning to look as if no one was coming. Or if they were, that they might not get here in time.
The funny thing was, at that moment, what she wanted more than anything else, was to tell Tony St. Clair how much she absolutely loved him. She’d had the chance and hadn’t taken it. Would she ever get another opportunity?
CHAPTER
FORTY-SEVEN
As she lay on the ground, snow falling on top of her, River prayed. It was all she had left. She asked God to remind Tony about something that could save her life. Would he remember? This morning, she’d felt led to slip her extra phone into her boot. In the car, before Prescott got inside, she’d reached down and switched it on. If Tony remembered, the police could track her whereabouts. Why hadn’t she mentioned it to him earlier? Probably because she didn’t want to worry him. Didn’t want Tony thinking she was still afraid. And she was—but not like the first time. This was different. She wanted to live, but she wasn’t terrified.
As she prayed, something flowed through her. Like liquid love. She felt such peace. Did it mean God was going to save her? Or did it mean she would be with Him soon? Either way, evil would lose, and God would win. She kept her eyes on the snow falling from the sky instead of the man who plotted her death. The beautiful white flakes danced around her, creating beauty in the midst of darkness. Just like God’s love in the presence of her enemy.
She heard something behind her and flipped her head around. Prescott was dragging an old chest out of the trees. Icy fear clutched at her chest, and she gasped. It wasn’t from fear of dying. It was from fear of dying like that. In the river again, unable to move, choking on the water as it filled the trunk. Oh, God. Anything but that. Please. Don’t let me die like that!
Even though she’d known somewhere deep inside this was the Strangler’s plan for her, she’d ignored it. Was afraid to acknowledge it. For some reason she began to think about the Apostles. How each one of them died. Peter, crucified upside down because he didn’t feel worthy of dying the way Jesus had. Andrew, also crucified, but preaching to his murderers until the life left his body. Matthew slain with a sword. Matthias and Barnabas stoned to death. Some of their deaths were so gruesome, her mind couldn’t go there. She’d read about a man who’d become a Christian after reading of their deaths. Not one of them renounced Jesus. The man was convinced that unless they’d seen the resurrected Lord, they would never have endured these terrible deaths and not turned their backs on Him. She reasoned that if they could suffer the way they had, surely she could go through whatever she had to with dignity and faith.
“A nice coffin for you,” Prescott said, a contorted smile on his face. River looked into his dead eyes.
“David, God loves you. You may not believe this, but He wants to forgive you. He gave the life of His Son for you. Jesus paid the price for all of your sins. Past, present, and future. He really wants to help you. You can have a brand-new life. A new start. You’ll have to live it in prison, but even though your body is confined, your soul will finally be free.”
For just a moment, Prescott stared at her with an expression that even she couldn’t read. Was it remorse? Surprise? But in only seconds, it became clear that whatever thoughts had occurred to him in that moment, they quickly turned into rage. He walked up next to her and kicked her hard, several times. River cried out in pain. She wasn’t certain he was going to stop, nor was she sure she wanted him to. Maybe it would be better if she died before she went into the water. She considered pushing him harder, causing his anger to flare up so he would end her life now. Yet she was surprised to discover a small flame of hope still burning inside her. And there was nothing David Prescott could do to quench it.
Prescott leaned down and put his hands under her armpits. Then he dragged her over to the chest. River wanted to fight back. Kick him away, but the pain in her body was too much. She felt the darkness approaching again, encouraging her to pass out, but she couldn’t let that happen. She fought to stay conscious. No matter what, she wasn’t going to give up. River wanted a chance to live for God. To reach others with His love. She wanted to make things right with her earthly father, spend time with her mother, and tell Tony that she loved him. “I need more time,” she whispered. “Please, give me more time.”
Would He answer her prayer, or was she getting ready to meet the God she’d grown to love with everything inside her?
TONY’S PRAYERS WERE FERVENT, almost violent. It was all he had left. There was no path that could lead them to River in time unless police officers searching near the river found them before it was too late. The search area was so large, it would take a miracle. But God did miracles. Why wouldn’t He do one for River?
He jumped when Arnie walked up next to him and said, “Don’t give up. God is watching out for her.”
Tony stared at him in surprise. “Don’t think I’ve heard you say anything like that before.”
Arnie shrugged. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”
Tony kept looking at him but didn’t say anything. Finally, Arnie sighed.
“Okay, maybe I started going to church. People in our job either lose faith or gain it. Some of the things we see defy explanation. Either evil is real—and God is too—or nothing makes sense.”
Tony blinked away an unexpected rush of tears. Maybe it was the stress of the moment, but there was something about seeing the change in his friend’s life when another friend’s life was on the line that simply overwhelmed him. This was God. Able to bring good out of devastation. It didn’t make sense to the mind, but it made a lot of sense in his spirit.
“Don’t get emotional on me,” Arnie said, his voice getting husky. He started to say something else when his phone suddenly rang. He held his breath while Arnie listened silently. Finally, he said, “Okay. Keep looking.” As he hung up the phone, Tony’s heart fell.
“Not yet, but they’re still searching. All we need is to spot the car. Remember that people aren’t out tonight because of the weather. His vehicle will stand out. We’ll find them.”
Tony didn’t respond. It wasn’t that the car couldn’t be found. The question was whether or not it could be located in time. Prescott wasn’t stupid. He knew he needed to move quickly. River understood his narcissism. She’d stroke his ego. Try to get him to reveal his brilliance as a delaying tactic. But he wouldn’t allow her to keep him occupied too long. Not if he wanted to get away, which Tony was certain he did.
“There’s still time,” Arnie said, confirming Tony’s thoughts.
“He’ll take some time preening before he kills her, but not so long that he puts himself in danger.”
“Let’s stay positive.” Arnie sighed. “If only she had her phone, we could have tracked her.”
