by Mary Stone
Folks these days were so preoccupied with their digital lives that they didn’t stop to think of the myriad ways they could potentially incriminate themselves with technology.
Personally, I’d never been a fan of smartphones. The only reason I’d bought one was to avoid standing out too much.
Waving Will forward with one hand, I stepped onto the packed earth trail and started toward the bend in the path. The man and woman were out of sight, but as we grew closer, I could make out snippets of their conversation.
The discussion was inane, something about what the man planned to cook for dinner the following night, since it was his turn to do the chore. His turn. My lip curled up in disgust. Cooking was a woman’s work. How did they both not understand that? It was clearly written.
And they would both pay for their stupidity. Their eager abandon of life’s sacred rules.
As I watched, the color of their clothing was scarcely visible through the barrier of the tree line as I approached the turn in the path. Painting the best bewildered expression on my face I could manage, I shuffled around the bend.
As soon as I spotted the pair, I held up one arm and waved my supposedly dead smartphone. “Hey! Oh, wow.” I paused to glance over my shoulder to Will. “Wow, I’m so glad we ran into you guys!”
Orange sunlight glinted off the woman’s glasses as she halted in her tracks. A flicker of suspicion flashed over the man’s clean-shaven face at the unexpected sight of me and Will. Apparently, they’d heard about the potential for criminal activity in the woods too.
I held out my hands to show that I was unarmed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I know how this place can be after it gets dark. That’s why we’re trying to get out of here. I, um…” I paused to feign a nervous chuckle. “I’m afraid we got a little turned around, though.”
As the husband and wife exchanged glances, I took a slight step forward. Just because I didn’t have a weapon in my hand didn’t mean I was unarmed.
The woman opened and closed her mouth a couple times before she nodded her understanding. “Where are you trying to get to? Back to the parking lot?”
Anger was like a living thing worming under my skin, and I found it difficult not to let it show on my face. This woman should have deferred to her husband. He should have answered my question, not her. A wife should not be permitted to speak without her husband’s permission, especially to a stranger.
Then again, that’s exactly why I was here. They needed to be punished.
With a sheepish smile, I raised my phone. “It died, so I couldn’t use it to get us on track. Which way is the parking lot?”
Even when she attempted to return my smile, the woman’s face was strained.
The man shrugged, waving a hand in front of him. “If you follow this trail, you’ll get there. There’s a turn a little ways up ahead. It veers a little to the right. Just keep going straight, and you’ll get to the parking lot.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Where does the other trail go?”
“Back into the woods,” the man said. “It sort of loops around, kind of like a big circle.”
With a sudden grin, I snapped my fingers and looked to Will. “That’s why we got lost, isn’t it? We just kept going in a big circle. I think I know the turn that you’re talking about. It’s more like a fork in the road than a turn, isn’t it?”
They looked to one another again before the man nodded. “I suppose it is, yeah. Just veer to the left and you’ll be fine.”
I already knew that, of course. But in the moment they looked at one another, I took another step. I was almost within arms’ length now.
Though I had a nine-mil holstered beneath one arm, I had no intention of shooting the two of them. The nine-mil was for protection—a safeguard in case the bikers turned up earlier that day. I’d never shot anyone, and I didn’t intend to start today.
Guns weren’t intimate enough. Too impersonal.
As I returned the phone to my pocket, I inched my hand closer to the sheathed hunting knife at my back. It was the same knife I’d used to kill Jackson Fisher two and a half months earlier. I’d tossed it in a bowl with some water and bleach, but I hadn’t been willing to part with the weapon just because it had been used to dispatch one person.
I offered the couple a quick smile as Will made his way to my side. “Thanks for the help, I really appreciate it.” With one hand on the hilt of the blade, I extended the other and closed the remaining distance.
The nervousness had started to dissipate from Oliver’s expression as he accepted the handshake. Even so, I could already tell that they were glad to be rid of us.
They should have listened to their paranoia. If they were smart, they would have run.
I closed my fingers around the grip of the hunting knife as I clamped down on Oliver Ulbrich’s hand. The man’s blue eyes went wide in surprise, but before he could make so much as a shocked utterance, I snapped my arm forward and buried the blade in his heart.
Crimson blossomed along the pale blue t-shirt beneath his jacket. As Oliver’s mouth gaped open, a trickle of blood ran down his chin. The waning daylight caught his glassy eyes, and I watched his life drain from his face before I released my vice-like grip.
It was beautiful. So perfectly beautiful.
There was a certain sense of catharsis I achieved whenever I witnessed a person’s life force fade away. The sensation was one of the few reasons I didn’t use firearms when I was carrying out the Lord’s work. Unless I was up close, I couldn’t watch those last few seconds of their life as it was whisked away into the ether. To God and His judgement.
With a sickening wet tearing sound, I pulled the knife free to let Oliver complete his final slump to the dusty earth.
An ear-piercing shriek jerked my attention away from the sense of consummation that accompanied a close-up kill. Sandy’s brown eyes were as wide as a pair of saucers, but to her credit, she recovered from the shock in short order.
With a sharp gasp, she spun around on one heel and started to run in the direction from which she and her husband had come.
She was fast—probably a leftover stress response from the night she’d been at the Riverside Mall and the rush of adrenaline that was certainly flooding her system. I was disgusted by her fear, her sense of self-preservation. The woman hadn’t even stopped to assist her husband. She hadn’t begged for his life or offered up her own in return.
She was evil, and Earth needed rid of her presence.
I’d been so preoccupied with her husband that I might not have been able to catch up with her if I’d been alone. It didn’t matter, though. Even if she made it out of here alive, I knew where she lived, and she didn’t know anything about me.
But Will was fast too. In a blur, he launched himself at the woman. Her petite frame was no match for Will’s hulking six-foot, broad-shouldered build.
Will’s grunt was followed abruptly by another shriek, and then a shout that roughly resembled, “Help.”
With a thud, the two collapsed to the ground. Sandy writhed and squirmed beneath Will’s body, but she didn’t make so much as an inch of progress. She sucked in another deep breath in preparation to scream again, but Will clamped a hand over her mouth.
As I approached, I lamented the fact that Will was here with me. Sure, he’d just done me a solid, but Sandy Ulbrich was a pretty gal for her age. Her chocolate brown hair caught the red glow from the setting sun, and as her chest heaved with each laborious breath, her shirt contoured to the curve of her breasts.
Part of my duty was to punish the women who went against God’s will, but those screams she’d managed would soon draw the attention of anyone nearby. Provided there actually was anyone nearby. Either way, I wasn’t willing to take the chance. I didn’t have enough time to baptize her. Punishing women was a lesson Will would have to learn on his own.
The orange sunlight accentuated the red smear of blood as I raised the knife for the woman to see. “I can tell that y
ou need to be punished, Sandy, but I’m afraid we don’t have time for that today. I’ll let God sort you out.”
Her desperate pleas were muffled into an incomprehensible murmur beneath Will’s hand, but her eyes told me all I needed to know.
As I dropped down to kneel at Will’s side, his stare was fixed on Sandy. Though his jaw was clenched, his countenance was unreadable.
But as far as I was concerned, actions spoke louder than words. Will hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t balked, hadn’t asked for permission. He’d known what our mission was, and he did what was required to make sure we carried it out.
If we had more time, I’d consider handing him the knife to see how he fared when he was given a real job—when he was handed real power. For the time being, however, I’d have to take care of Sandy myself.
Raising an index finger to my lips, I locked my eyes onto hers and shushed her frenetic mumbling. The sunlight glittered off the first tear as it inched down from the corner of her eye. I didn’t pause to consider the motion, I just acted.
I nudged my hand in beneath Will’s to cover her mouth, and the man took his cue to back away. A pebble dug into my knee as I leaned in to brush my nose against her forehead, but I ignored the discomfort.
Without a word of explanation, I gingerly ran my tongue beneath her eye and down to her temple.
My grandfather and mentor had told me long ago that the sweetest sensation in the world was lapping up the tears of a sinner right before they were sent to God. And though the salt tingled against the tip of my tongue, I was in complete agreement with his observation. For good measure, I trailed my tongue back up the other side of her face as she squeezed her eyes closed with a pitiable whimper.
“I’d punish you good right now if you hadn’t made all that noise,” I murmured. Tightening my grip on the hilt of the hunting knife, I reluctantly pulled away from her flushed cheek.
I didn’t bother to acknowledge Will as I snapped my arm back to slam the blade down into the center of Sandy Ulbrich’s chest.
As the sinning female’s spirit fled her body and sank down into the depths of hell, I knew one thing for certain. God would be pleased.
8
As Winter rapped her knuckles against the metal doorframe of her boss’s office, she wondered if she should have been nervous. Noah had relayed Bree’s prediction, that neither of them would be removed from the department once they told Max of their relationship.
If anyone knew what to expect, it would be Bree. The woman had worked for the bureau for twenty years. Other than Max, she was the most tenured agent in their part of the building.
Whether due to Bree’s reassurance or Winter’s own certainty that she and Noah were doing the right thing, she wasn’t nervous.
“Come on in, Agent Black. Agent Dalton.” Max’s gravelly voice filtered out to them through the slight opening in the door.
With a glance over her shoulder to offer Noah a quick smile, she pushed the glass and metal door inward. As the door finished its arc, Max tapped a couple keys on his keyboard and turned to face his newest visitors.
He waved a hand at the two squat chairs situated in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Agents.”
The door creaked lightly as Noah eased it closed behind himself. After unbuttoning his black suit jacket, he took a seat at Winter’s side.
“I got your email earlier this afternoon. What do you want to talk to me about?” Max’s gray eyes shifted from Winter to Noah and then back.
Winter covered her mouth with a fist as she cleared her throat. “I’m not sure what kind of prelude to give here, so I suppose I’ll just come out and say it.”
As she glanced to Noah, he nodded. “Yeah, not really much of a prelude needed, I don’t think.”
Folding both hands in her lap, Winter returned her attention to the SAC. “Noah… Agent Dalton and I are…” She cleared her throat again. “Well, we’re involved. Romantically.”
She might not have been nervous, but she still had a difficult time coming up with a term for their relationship that sounded remotely professional.
Max leaned back in his chair and chuckled. “Involved? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
Even as warmth spread over Winter’s cheeks, she felt more than saw Noah shift in his chair. Just as she opened her mouth to elaborate, Max waved a dismissive hand.
“You don’t need to explain it, Agent Black. I’ve been an investigator for more than thirty years now, and I’ve got to say,” he paused to let his eyes flick from Winter back to Noah, “it’s about time.”
Winter’s response slipped from her lips before she could rethink it. “Wait, you’ve known about it? Why didn’t you say anything to us, sir?”
Max laced his fingers together and leaned back in his office chair. “I know you and Agent Dalton are both committed to the bureau, and I know you both have plenty of integrity. I figured you’d come to me when you thought the timing was right. Didn’t see any need to call you out before then.”
“Does this mean that neither of us will be reassigned?” Noah asked.
With another slight smile, Max nodded. “Like I said, situations like this are largely a matter of integrity. As long as I think your relationship with one another doesn’t compromise the integrity of this office, I don’t see any need to move anyone around. I’ve got faith in you two. Believe me, I’ve already noticed the little adjustments you’ve made so far.”
Until Winter felt the flood of relief at the SAC’s words, she hadn’t realized how the subject had weighed on her in the first place. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she must have been prepared for the worst.
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.
The old adage stirred up a wave of uncertainty about her little brother, even about Cameron Arkwell. Swallowing, she pushed aside the sudden anxiety and forced the smile back to her face. “Thank you, sir.”
In this situation, at least, she had been gifted with the best possible outcome.
She couldn’t help but wonder if her luck would hold.
As a form of impromptu celebration, Winter and Noah had stopped by a Chinese restaurant to amass an impressive assortment of food for dinner that night. After a toast, they had settled onto Noah’s couch to eat while they watched their newest television obsession. The light from the kitchen at the other end of the living room was the only source of illumination other than the gigantic screen.
With her hunger satiated, Winter stretched onto her side and rested her head on Noah’s thigh. The man was methodical about his workout regimen, and she sometimes wondered if there was more than an ounce of fat on his body. Gradually, she shifted her head off the taut muscle of his leg and onto the softer surface of a pillow, giving herself another minute or two of peace.
The conversation with Max hadn’t been the only anxiety inducing discussion she intended to have that day.
After twenty-four hours to consider what she and Autumn had discussed, Winter had officially made up her mind. Once Nathan Arkwell’s trial came to an end, she would seek out whatever insight Cameron Arkwell had to offer. She would continue to hope for the best possible outcome for Justin, but she had to prepare herself for the worst.
Still, the fact remained that she was planning to voluntarily put herself in a room with the same man who had brutally murdered five women and then held part of his family hostage at the end of the barrel of a semiautomatic rifle.
Winter and Autumn had been all that prevented Cameron Arkwell from sustaining a lethal shot to the head, but Winter wasn’t convinced that the little piece of rapport would be enough to assuage Cameron’s hostility toward law enforcement.
Then again, she reminded herself what Autumn had told her about Jeffrey Dahmer and Ed Kemper, also known as The Co-Ed Killer. Both men, along with plenty of others, had been more than willing to discuss the disturbing details of their thoughts and their crimes. Until she sat down in a room with Cameron, she couldn’t be sure he was unwilling to discuss hims
elf and his ilk.
Cameron had been sentenced to life without the possibility of parole, and he was being held in a maximum-security federal prison. The guards were used to a procession of lawyers and law enforcement visitors, and Winter was sure she had no reason to worry for her safety.
But just because she wasn’t worried didn’t mean the same confidence would extend to Noah. Noah Dalton was from Texas, and during their first few months together at the Richmond FBI office, he’d exhibited an obnoxious level of what some might call chivalry.
Winter had never cared for chivalry. To her, it always seemed to be accompanied with a patronizing tinge. She believed in extending kindness to all people regardless of their gender. That was how her grandparents had raised her. They’d raised her to be strong, but they’d also raised her to be kind.
As the credits started to scroll up the television screen, Winter blinked a few times to return herself to the present. Reaching for the remote, she shoved herself to sit before pausing the show.
Noah lifted an eyebrow. His dark hair was still neatly styled, but they’d both changed out of their formal work attire and into t-shirts and comfortable pants.
“What’s up, darlin’?”
She swallowed a silly joke about Bugs Bunny and reminded herself that she was about to discuss a convicted murderer.
“I’ve got something I need to tell you.” She regretted the words as soon as she spoke them. That was not how she should have started a conversation with her significant other.
He sighed with feigned exasperation. “I told you, if you’re a werewolf, it’s fine. Really. I mean it. Just don’t bite me, and we’re good.”
She couldn’t help a short burst of laughter. With a playful punch to his upper arm, Winter turned until she faced him more fully.
“No, I’m not a werewolf. That was one time, okay?” She shoved an index finger in his face. “It was a busy week, and I had more important stuff to do than shave my legs.”
