by Mary Nealy
“You go ahead,” Paul said. “I can find Higgins and see if he needs help. I got a couple of hours of sleep this morning while I was waiting for Pravus at the mission.”
“You got two hours of sleep?” Keren was almost violent with jealousy.
Paul tried to smile. She could tell he really tried. He said, “I won’t sleep tonight. Impossible.”
“You’re asleep in that chair. We’re not getting anywhere.”
“Did I ever tell you I have a wife?” O’Shea asked.
Paul shook his head. “No, you’ve never mentioned that.”
“I forget it myself sometimes.” O’Shea glanced at his watch. “She’s way nicer about this job than I deserve. It’s ten o’clock now. She’ll still be awake if I hurry. I’m going to go see if she recognizes me. See you in the morning.” He stood and began pulling on his suit coat. “If you don’t want to take the time to go home, Keren will show you where the bunk beds are. A few hours’ sleep will help clear the cobwebs.”
O’Shea didn’t hang around to see if they took his advice.
Paul sagged back in his chair. “I’m afraid if I fall asleep I’ll wake up to the news that LaToya’s body has been found floating in a frog pond somewhere.”
Keren stood so quickly her chair rolled back and smacked into the desk behind her. “Why not? Why not a frog pond somewhere? Where would this nut go to find frogs?”
Paul eyes jerked wide open, all sleepiness gone. “A pet store?”
“Good, where else?”
“Is there a park in Chicago that has frogs? Some kind of reptile garden or a zoo?”
Keren snapped her fingers. “How about a petting zoo? There’s one in the park where Juanita was found. Pravus has been working solely in the area around the mission.”
“I think there is some kind of pond at that petting zoo,” Paul said. “Let’s go take a look. If we could stake it out and Pravus came—maybe he won’t kill her until he gets there. Maybe we can—”
“Paul, chances are he won’t do anything tonight. It wasn’t until two days later that Juanita showed up.”
“But he might move faster this time. Last time, maybe he was enjoying the destruction he caused. This time there was no show. His need to kill might move the schedule up.”
Keren gave him a long look.
“I know I’m reaching,” Paul said with quiet desperation in his voice. “But I can’t go lie down on some cot and rest while there’s a chance she’s still alive out there. Working on these files is driving me crazy. I’d rather be interrogated by Dyson again. I need to do something.”
“I know. Every time I close my eyes I see those cuts on Juanita’s body and the pictures of LaToya and that death shroud he painted. Let’s go. Even if we don’t find anything, we can scope the place out and decide where to set up a stakeout for tomorrow night. Maybe the fresh air will wake us up.”
Keren drove through the quiet streets.
Paul suddenly sat up straighter. “I’m supposed to preach a sermon tomorrow morning.”
Keren looked sideways. “I’d forgotten it was Saturday night.”
“Police work isn’t exactly nine to five, is it?”
“You’d know that as well as anyone.”
Paul nodded. Keren pulled into a little park and the two of them got out. There was a well-secured area that held the larger animals—miniature goats, a Shetland pony, a baby calf. Keren had done patrol in this park when she was in uniform. “There’s a pond over there. Listen, you can hear frogs croaking.”
Paul broke into a run. He was sprinting across the uneven ground by the time he got to the pond. In the dim streetlights that barely reached this corner of the park they could see the pond. Its surface was unbroken. LaToya wasn’t there.
“Thank You, God. Please, God, be with her. She’s so new in her faith. She’s turned to You so completely in the last year. Help her to endure in her faith through this test. Let me …” Paul’s voice faded away.
Keren stood beside him and let the soft lapping of the water and the breeze that stirred through the surrounding trees become a chapel. She added her own silent prayers to Paul’s, turning her mind away from the question of why LaToya had to suffer this when she’d so recently turned her life over to God. It was a question that had no answer. An answer wouldn’t do any good anyway. It had happened. They had to go on from here.
Time passed and finally, in the peace of the night, Keren found herself talking. “I know what he meant when he said I was one of the fairest in the land.”
Paul opened his eyes. “What?”
“In the phone call, he said I was one of the fairest in the land,” Keren reminded him.
“It’s from the book of Job,” Paul said. “Job’s daughters were the fairest in the land. It was probably just his way of saying he was watching. He could see how pretty you are, and he wanted us to know he had actually seen you.”
“Pretty?” Keren broke off a short laugh and combed her fingers through her ratty hair. She was lucky to get her hand back. “Yeah right. Anyway, the reason he said that—”
“You don’t think you’re pretty? Oh come on. Your eyes are beautiful. Your hair is like—”
“You made a crack like that before. You said men had to be chasing me. Wrong. It’s a nice thought, Paul. Thanks. Now, as I was saying—”
Paul caught Keren by the shoulders and pulled her around to face him. “Don’t change the subject just yet. I say you’re pretty.”
Keren gave him a gentle smile. “Okay, well, near as I can figure out, you’re one of the few.”
“Well, who else matters, huh?” Paul leaned down and kissed her. The kiss, soft as a breeze, was over before it began. Paul pulled away just an inch and their eyes met.
“We should have never stopped fighting,” Keren whispered.
They moved toward each other at the same moment and their lips met. Paul’s arms went around her and pulled her close, as close as they’d been this morning after he’d listened to a madman tell him about the impending death of his friend. Keren’s arms circled his neck.
“I’ve been dying to touch your hair.” He sank one hand deeply into it. It was as soft and thick as he’d imagined. He tugged on the heavy leather barrette, and as it came loose, her hair tangled in his fingers like living silk. It felt so perfect it shook him back to sanity.
“We have to stop.” He pulled away.
Keren took a second to understand the kiss was over. Then she nodded. “Yes, this is wrong. This isn’t going to happen.”
“Absolutely not,” Paul said with fierce sincerity. “It’s a terrible mistake.”
Then he kissed her again.
CHAPTER TEN
A bush rustled just behind Keren in a little stand of scraggly trees and shrubs. She jerked out of Paul’s arms and whirled to face the sound. Paul’s old cop instincts sprang to life. He grabbed for the gun he always wore in a shoulder holster.
It wasn’t there.
He dropped into a crouch and grabbed for Keren to shield her from danger.
She wasn’t there.
He heard her charging toward the noise and he went after her. Suddenly there was more rustling and Keren emerged from the dense undergrowth tucking a gun into the small of her back.
“It was nothing.” She was washed blue and black in the streetlights. Her hair danced free around her face, and Paul’s hand closed on her barrette.
The adrenaline that had surged through Paul’s veins and thrown him into action had no outlet, so it converted itself to anger. He marched toward her and grabbed her upper arm.
“What do you think you’re doing, dashing into the woods like that?” He shook her hard. “You didn’t even think.” He pulled her up to his face. “You just disappeared.” His nose almost touched hers. “He could have been there. Pravus could have been waiting!”
Keren laid her hand on Paul’s mouth. He fumed behind her hand. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I think—” She shrugged and smiled sheepishly at hi
m. “I think I might have been running away from you as much as running to check on that noise.”
Paul growled under her fingers, and she uncovered his mouth. He lowered his lips to hers. She stepped away so quickly she almost did a dance step. “No, don’t. We lost our heads there for a minute; there’s no reason it should happen again.”
Paul advanced.
Keren moved away. “If you back me into that frog pond I won’t be responsible for the damage I do to your … uh … ego.”
Paul stopped. He crossed his arms firmly to keep from reaching for her. “You’re an aggravating woman, Keren.”
She held her hands up as if to surrender. “I know. Believe me, I’ve heard it before. Let’s go. I’ll call in this location and have patrols stepped up overnight, then tomorrow I’ll put it under constant surveillance.”
“Not good enough,” Paul said, shaking his head.
“It’s the best I can do. Arranging full-time surveillance takes time.”
He thought he might be pouting. It was humiliating. Still, he refused to budge. “Just go. I’m staying here.” He shoved her barrette into her hands.
“What about tomorrow?” She clenched her fist around the hair tie.
“What about tomorrow?” Paul asked.
“Sunday? You’re a reverend? Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”
At her teasing, he felt the worst of his turmoil ease. How had he ended up kissing her anyway? “You know I haven’t kissed a woman since my wife died five years ago.”
Keren’s eyes widened. “Really? Five years?”
“Yup. And I didn’t do much of it then, ‘cuz my wife wasn’t overly fond of me. I wasn’t overly fond of her, either. I wonder what it means.”
“That you weren’t fond of your wife?”
“No, that I abandoned five years of peace and quiet to risk kissing a woman.”
“It means you should have waited a little longer. I’m not a candidate to break your fast, buddy.”
“Tell me about it,” Paul said. “Now go home. I’ve got this covered, and I have someone preaching for me tomorrow.”
“Ah, yes, I remember. Murray, the fire-and-brimstone specialist. Rosie wasn’t thrilled.” Keren latched onto Paul’s arm and hauled him toward the car.
“Murray does okay.” Paul didn’t tell her, but he was just escorting her. He was going to plant himself by this pond until he got his hands on Pravus or somebody came up with a better idea. “And there are others almost as good, although Murray’s the only one who does any preaching. Buddy is a good guy when he takes his medication, and Lou does okay. And we’ve got a Catholic priest who pitches in a lot, though there’s a Catholic mission he’s mainly involved with.”
Keren opened her car door.
Paul said lightly, “I’m staying.”
Keren narrowed her eyes at him. If they hadn’t been so close to a streetlight Paul might not have known how much danger he was in. An extended silence grew between them. Paul suspected she was trying to assess her chances of beating him into submission.
She must have thought her chances were poor because she pulled her keys out of her pocket and held them out to him. “Get in.”
He took the keys. “What are these for?”
“I figured you wouldn’t get in if you didn’t have them.”
“Because kidnapping me is so obvious?”
“Right.” She dropped onto the seat behind the wheel. “I’ll call around and get someone over here as soon as possible. In the meantime I’ll wait with you.”
“No, you don’t have to.”
“Of course I don’t have to, moron.” Keren snorted. “If you ordered me to do it, I’d be out of here like a shot, but since I thought of it myself, I’ll stay.” She slammed the door in his face.
Paul thought about arguing with her. Instead, he went around the car and got in. “Thanks, it’s kinda spooky out here.”
Keren laughed then looked across the front seat at him. Paul looked at her. He managed to get his thoughts together enough to keep from reaching for her … again. “So, you were trying to say something back there, back before”—Paul waved in the general vicinity of the pond—”whatever madness that was. I’ll listen. Fairest in the land?”
“Oh yeah, right. It’s my name.” She looked forward again and twisted her hair into a coil with such ease Paul knew she’d done it a thousand times before.
“Keren?”
“Yeah. Keren, with an e instead of an a. Only that’s not all of it. My whole first name is Kerenhappuch. My parents named me after one of Job’s daughters.” She anchored her hair with the bulky contraption she used as a barrette.
Paul sat up and turned to face her, “Do you have sisters named Kezia and Jemima?”
“Not that many people know the names of Job’s daughters. Well done. Nope, I’ve got two younger brothers.”
“Named Kezia and Jemima?”
Keren laughed. “Wrong again. Anyway, I never use it, the Happuch part. Out of respect for my parents, who really are terrific people—the evidence of my name to the contrary—I haven’t changed it. I’ve signed everything for years ‘Keren H.
Collins.’ There was a time when having Happuch as part of my name was almost too much to bear.”
“When you were twelve, I’d bet.” Paul settled back into the seat and stared out at the night with a smile.
“And thirteen and fourteen and fifteen. We moved the year I turned fifteen. We lived in a small town where everybody knew my name was Kerenhappuch, to the big anonymous city of Chicago. I insisted my folks enroll me in school as Keren, and no one was ever the wiser. I actually have a little affection for the whole name now. Anyway, when Pravus said, ‘Fairest in the land,’ I came to the conclusion that he knew what my real name was, which means he’s dug pretty deep. It’s not on any records that don’t absolutely demand a full name. And those are usually private documents.”
Paul quit relaxing. He remembered the ominous way Pravus had spoken of Keren, wondering if she was one of those who wouldn’t let his people go. “Why didn’t you say something? Keren, he’s probably already looking for his next victim. He’s picking people I know.”
“I hope he comes after me,” Keren said with grim satisfaction. “I’d like to see what he’d do with a woman who was expecting him. No, I don’t think he’ll pick me. He’s a coward. He’d avoid me.”
“Except he’s crazy as a loon. There’s really no way to predict what he’ll do next.”
“I’m being careful. I haven’t gone home except to change clothes since this started, and I’ll be doubly careful now. He’ll have trouble catching up with me. If we really begin to think he might target me, we can set my apartment up and lure him in.”
“Keren, have you seen the pictures of LaToya and Juanita? I promise you, if you even think about doing such a dangerous thing, I’ll parade up and down in front of your building shouting, ‘Run, Pravus, it’s a trap!’“
Keren laughed. “Well then, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, because I’d hate to have to arrest you, and I’d do it in a heartbeat if you got in my way.”
Paul relaxed again. “Tough talk.”
“You bet. And it’s not just talk.” Keren reached for her radio. “Let me get someone out here to watch this pond so you can get some sleep and preach your sermon in the morning. Rosita didn’t sound that excited about Murray. I’ve been sleeping in the precinct, and I think I’ll do it again tonight. Pravus was definitely trying to sound threatening toward me, like he was targeting me. If he decides to turn his attention my way, I don’t want him to find me before I’m ready.”
Paul sat quietly while Keren called for backup. “It’s going to be at least a half hour before anyone can get loose from what they’re doing.”
When she spoke, her voice woke Paul. He said, “Talk to me, Kerenhappuch. This stakeout isn’t worth much if I’m napping.”
“Okay.” She was quiet for so long that Paul wondered if she hadn’t dozed off.
The only reason he doubted it was because he could feel tension coming off her in waves, even with two feet of car seat between them. “You believe in spiritual gifts, don’t you, Paul?”
“Yes. Of course I do. I’ve been given the gifts of preaching and teaching.” He hesitated, because despite her casual question, he could tell this was important to her. “What made you mention that?”
“Well … I’ve got a gift, too. I … I don’t talk about it much. I learned to keep quiet when I was very young, after a couple of dreadful experiences. Then later on, when I finally did talk about it … to … someone, it ended up underscoring my decision to keep it quiet.”
Paul knew when something was sitting heavy on someone’s heart. “What gift?”
“I know … well, what I mean is, I know when … The gifts of the Spirit are pretty well known for the most part. Teaching, preaching, wisdom, even the more miraculous gifts like healing, speaking in tongues, and interpretation of tongues are ones people talk about. But mine is … well, it’s …” She fell silent again.
Paul didn’t rush her. Finally, when it looked like she wasn’t going to say any more, he asked, “When was the last time you talked about this?”
Keren let her head drop back on the headrest. “With the exception of my parents … and one other time … I haven’t talked about it since fourth grade. I made a really public announcement in school about someone …” She looked sideways at him.
“Go on.”
“A boy was pushing a smaller kid around in the lunchroom, and I announced to the whole room, ‘He can’t help himself. He’s possessed by a demon.’“
Keren rubbed her hands over her face. Paul could well imagine the fallout from such an announcement. “So did you get beaten up?”
She came out from behind her hands. “If only I had. Unfortunately, the principal came in at that moment.”
“Unfortunately?”
“Yeah. Instead of getting punched, which might have been the end of it, I got hauled into the principal’s office, and he called my parents. Then he called the boy’s parents. He thought I was being a little hard on the kid, I guess. It turned into a circus, because the bully’s parents demanded I apologize. So, right in front of his big,
