“Please don’t hurt her,” the father begged. “Kill me if you have to, just don’t hurt her. She’s just a baby, she can’t ID you, she’s not a threat to you. Please.”
Ignoring the man’s pleas, the baby would liveonlyif he decided that she would, he ordered, “Turn around,” when the man had, he added, “and close your eyes.”
As he approached the man, he heard him mumbling something over and over again. A prayer, he realized as he came up behind him. Prayers weren’t going to save him. Nothing was.
One quick flick of his knife and it was done. The man toppled forward into an ever-growing pool of blood.
This was his favorite of all his murders so far because this one served two purposes. Not only did it serve to help him circle closer to his true goal, but it also served to alienate Naomi from the one person who stood a chance at convincing her not to give herself up to him.
The baby began to cry as if she somehow understood the events that had just transpired. He hated the sound of a baby crying. It was like the sound lodged itself into his brain where it relentlessly hammered away at the inside of his skull.
Kill her or not?
It was totally up to him.
* * * * *
3:51 P.M.
“This is a nightmare.”
Allina looked up at her partner. She couldn’t agree more. “Does he know yet?”
Jonathon nodded.
Unfortunately, she could picture all too vividly how Sam would be feeling right now. She could quite easily find herself in the same position at any time. She prayed every day that Grace was still alive, that she would be found, but each day that went by the chances of her ever being found grew slimmer and slimmer. She couldn’t give up hope though. No one in her family could. Because if they gave up hope then Grace would be lost forever.
Sometimes Allina found herself wondering what things would be like when her sister-in-law did come home.
Grace wouldn’t be the same person she’d been before. Four years locked away from the real-world suffering, who knows what, couldn’t help but have changed her. What would she be like? Would she be able to readjust? Would they get her body back but lose the person inside that they had loved?
What would it feel like to get that call? The call that informed them that her body had been discovered. What would Grace look like when they went to the morgue to formally identify her body? Would she be recognizable? Would they feel a sense of relief that she was finally resting peacefully and no longer suffering?
She hardly dared to hope that one day they’d get a call telling them Grace had been found alive. Or maybe even a call from Grace herself. Sometimes when she was lying in bed at night, unable to sleep, she could almost hear Grace’s voice in her head, almost feel what it would be like to hug her. When it finally happened, she didn’t think she would want to let her go. In fact, she suspected that no one in her family would want to let Grace out of their sight for a very long time. Like forever.
“Thinking about Grace?”
Jonathon’s voice startled her out of reverie. “Yeah. Sorry.”
His hand squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. “Don’t be sorry. I can’t imagine spending four years not knowing where someone you love is. And times like this must be especially difficult, even more so given that it affects someone you know. We’ll find Grace, Ali, one day we’ll bring her home.”
Torn between hoping Grace was dead so she wasn’t in pain, and hoping Grace was alive so they could find her and bring her home was like being stuck in Hell. But right now, she needed to push her thoughts and fears about her sister-in-law to the back of her mind so that she could function. Grace wasn’t the only one whose life was in danger. Naomi’s stalker meant business, he was coming for her, and everyone who knew Naomi was in danger, this guy could go after anyone next. He had to be stopped.
“He left the weapon behind, just like both other times,” she announced.
Her partner gave her one last cautious glance and then spoke, “It doesn’t match anything from the kitchen, so he brought it with him again too. He plans everything out, always comes prepared.”
“He didn’t break into Oscar’s house either, so how is he getting in?” she asked.
“It’s unlikely that he knew both victims, so he wouldn’t have had keys to their houses. Pick the locks?”
“No evidence of that,” Kane Curtis informed them, pausing to glance up at them from where he was kneeling beside the open front door.
“So what then?” Allina wondered aloud.
“Maybe he hid outside, waited until the door was open, and then slipped inside unseen,” Jonathon suggested. “I mean, lots of people don’t lock their doors when they’re home, especially during the day.”
“Could be. I don’t like how thoroughly he plans everything out,” she said. “I have a bad feeling about this. It’s going to end badly.”