by Geri Krotow
“No, nothing wrong. It’s just that Pastor Katherine tends to go on and on. We’re not used to such a contemporary prayer, is all.”
“Contemporary?”
“You didn’t even mention it’s Christmas.”
“Oh.” She looked back at the group, wondering if she should apologize. But there was no need. They were all in pageant mode, preparing to begin the hour-long show.
Zora ran up to Peter before he disappeared inside the sanctuary to manage the show.
“I’ll see you later. I’m going to go watch it from the loft. I’ll come down at the end and say the closing prayer and appreciation remarks.”
“Thanks, Reverend. Any news on Jess?”
“No, but she’s at the police station with Rebecca and Bryce. Hopefully she’ll be here in time for most of the show, I mean, pageant.”
Peter made a doubtful expression before he smoothed his expression into neutral.
“I hope so.”
“Break a leg, boys and girls!” She raised her voice so that the “elephants” in the back would hear, too. A smile tugged at her lips. Silver Valley Community Church had to have the most glorious concept of a Nativity. Not limited to simple farm animals, the entire animal kingdom was arriving to pay respects to the newborn babe. The live llamas, alpaca, sheep and a pony were ready to go, their handlers dressed as shepherds. The more exotic creatures were children in costume.
The strains of the evening’s first Christmas hymn vibrated from the massive antique organ. With a final wave at the pageant participants, Zora went to check out the main auditorium. The majority of church members who wanted to attend this earlier service had to view it on the large screens in the modern sanctuary. Only parents and selected friends and family of the participating children were allowed entry into the original sanctuary, due to its limited size and the fire code.
She made her way down the corridor and tried to let the festive oversize garlands and gold ribbon that lined the walls calm her and remind her that it was Christmas Eve.
But no matter how bright the red bows on the sashes or on the singularly giant wreath in front of the main doors, she couldn’t forget that she was on a mission and this was its deadliest time. She was trained to handle all contingencies and she’d do whatever was required of her, but she’d sure feel better when Bryce came back.
Hopefully with Jess.
* * *
If the SVPD hadn’t been so annoying he would’ve been able to carry through with his plan with no risk to any of the little kids. One bullet could take out Reverend Colleen Hammermill, just like the others. But he’d use buckshot on her, to really make a mess. He’d planned to do it from behind the altar. He’d put a hole in the stained-glass window in the back wall of the old sanctuary. The small mosaic piece had been delicate to remove. He’d had to pick a lighter color so it wouldn’t be obvious when the light shone through. All he’d had to do was crank up the heat, and so far no one had noticed the drafts.
The SVPD security detail wasn’t something he’d planned on. Bringing a weapon into the building was too risky. He didn’t need to bring his rifle in, as he only needed to get to the back wall of the building and fire through the hole. But he’d never escape from the courtyard the windows overlooked after he fired. Not with all those officers around.
No, his original plan wouldn’t be the best. Not anymore. Instead, he’d have to sacrifice the entire legacy of the church that had been the very first in Central Pennsylvania, the first in Silver Valley. Its brick walls might not burn but he’d make sure everything inside—pews, lectern and choir loft—were burned to ash.
Because they’d already gutted the spirit of the church with female preachers like Colleen Hammermill. He was just helping them see how evil their new rules were.
“I need you to go through the metal detector, Ernie. Nice Christmas flannel you’re sporting there.” Officer Nina Valesquez had grown up in this church, as had half of the SVPD. He didn’t have a problem with females as cops. They’d wind up dead sooner than the men but that was their problem. Women just didn’t have the skills needed to do a man’s job properly.
“It’s a special night.” He left the large wheeled bucket to the side and carried his mop with him.
“I’ll take that. The metal’s going to set it off.”
“Okay.”
“Step through.”
The alarm went off as he stepped over the threshold with his construction boots.
“Those steel toe?” Nina nodded at his feet.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Let’s have Officer Holder wand you, for all our sake’s. I know you, Ernie, but we have to do our job.”
“No problem.” He held out his arms while the officer swept the detection device up and over his limbs, torso and feet, where it reacted again to his boots.
“You’re good.” Officer Holder looked at Ernie and Ernie didn’t like the look he gave him. As if he didn’t trust him. The young gun hadn’t grown up here like Nina had, and had no respect for tradition.
Being the church custodian was a family tradition, first for his grandfather, then his dad, then him.
“Mind if I go back and get my bucket?”
“No, go right ahead. The pageant’s about to start, though, isn’t it? You’re leaving the Christmas cleaning to the last minute.”
“It’s always a good idea to keep the mop handy for anything sticky the kids drop. Plus with flu season, sometimes they get sick and it’s best to be able to clean it up without delay. You know kids. Not to mention the farm animals.”
“Sure thing. Thanks, Ernie, and Merry Christmas.”
Merry Christmas indeed.
Chapter 20
It wasn’t as stuffy in the choir loft as Zora had expected. The organist had a large bottle of water on the floor next to her stool; no doubt she’d been through more than one long Christmas pageant and Easter service.
There was a minister’s seat she could have taken on the altar but she wanted a relative of one of the pageant participants to have the prime spot, and sure enough, a grandmother who had traveled in from Florida was happily seated and would be able to watch her twin granddaughters cavort about as angels.
A familiar sense of knowing hit her and she looked down at the far entryway.
Bryce smiled when their eyes met and nodded toward the stage. As the lights dimmed and the setting backdrop illuminated not only the desert night but the town of Bethlehem, she caught the silhouette of Jess pushing an inn’s false front into place.
Her phone buzzed as it was on silent mode and she looked at her message.
Merry Christmas.
She looked up to mouth the words back to Bryce but he was gone. Doing his job, which was what she needed to focus on, too—doing her job as a Trail Hiker. They still had a killer to catch.
As the music swelled to match the onstage drama of the young couple’s search for a place of rest, she took her time to account for each child and the parents she’d been able to meet in such a short week working at Silver Valley Community Church. No one in the audience looked out of place or alone.
That was the best thing about Silver Valley. If it was Christmas for one citizen, it was Christmas for all. If a person seemed to be having trouble or was disgruntled, most folks would make a point of being extra nice, or offering help. It was the Silver Valley way of life.
It was what had brought her back here.
And now what was making her stay? Mom and Dad. Her counseling career. Her Trail Hikers assignments.
Was Bryce going to be the biggest reason?
No, this wasn’t the time to think about that. She stretched and scratched her collarbone under her vest. Life was going to be so nice when she didn’t have to wear the Kevlar.
* * *
The taut sense of impending danger wasn’t new to Bryce. He felt it before every case broke, some more so than others. It had been hanging over him for the past several days, and he couldn’t blame it all on the stress
of finding the Female Preacher Killer.
It was more. This case threatened not only Silver Valley but Bryce’s peace of mind.
Because Zora’s life is at risk.
He worked side by side with female officers and law enforcement agents from many levels of government and had no problem doing so. They were all part of the same team.
Zora was on his team, too, but it was more than that.
You’ve fallen for her. You love her.
Shit, he couldn’t handle this right now. As much as he prided himself on being able to keep a level head during chaos, he wasn’t prepared for this storm of emotions.
Their childhood connection made things even harder. Memories fought for his attention. Working the stage crew of his church’s pageant, wanting to finish so he could run home to the Krasnys’ Christmas Eve dinner. Trading private jokes with Zora about how old-fashioned their parents were.
Her smile hadn’t changed.
The church was packed and he took his time surveying the main worship area, which had nearly five hundred people in it, watching the big screens with rapt attention. The organ music was piped in on a state-of-the-art sound system and it felt as if the organ was right behind him instead of five hundred feet away in another room.
The organist was playing in the loft, next to where Zora stood watching the pageant. God, she was breathtaking. She’d never believe his compliments, though, not when she was dressed up like some kind of schoolmarm.
She’d believed him last night, when he’d seen her with nothing on but the blush their lovemaking had brought to her breasts and throat, up to her cheeks.
The memory warmed him but he stopped it from distracting him from his duty. He caught some questioning looks, some rather prim, as he walked around the aisles. In civilian clothes he looked like any other churchgoer and they probably thought he should just sit down and enjoy the show.
Satisfied that all was well in the huge auditorium, he made sure to make eye contact with each SVPD officer who guarded the doors. Ten in all.
This case was draining their resources. He hated to see the whole team out working on Christmas Eve, but there hadn’t been any complaints. They wanted the Female Preacher Killer caught so much that they were willing to do whatever it took to apprehend the bastard.
As quietly as possible he slipped out of the newer sanctuary and headed back for the original church.
* * *
SVPD was a pretty good police force, but Officer Nina wasn’t the brightest. If she’d taken just a minute to see what was under the towel that covered his bucket, she would’ve seen the plain clear plastic container that sat in the middle of the sudsy water.
It was full of gasoline.
He’d spent the better part of the morning stuffing the loft with rags soaked in odorless accelerant, cursing Reverend Hammermill the whole time. The stupid bitch had called in all the police and security she could; he knew it had been her. A male minister wouldn’t have run scared like Pastor Pearson had, either.
The odorless gas was perfect, and as soon as he saw that the children were all up on the altar toward the end of the pageant, he’d send the loft up as his own Christmas gift to the true church and what it had been when Mama was alive. When it still meant something to be a man. The kids and their families would be able to get out if they weren’t too stupid. They could knock out the altar windows and make a run for it.
But anyone toward the back and especially anyone in the loft would be dead. Reverend Hammermill had been bragging to Shirley Mae that she’d watch the whole thing from up there, so that she could appreciate the show without getting in the way. She made his job so easy for him. It still angered him that he couldn’t use his gun to take her out. That would be a more poetic way to end it all and make his final statement for the folks in Silver Valley. To make them understand why they had to change their ways.
This would have to do, and maybe it would end up being more fun, too. Plus the fire would be a good reminder of what waited for their souls if they didn’t go back to the old ways.
* * *
Bryce surveyed the audience and pageant participants. Some of the players onstage were obviously nearing the ends of their good behavior and no wonder. It grew warmer in the wood-paneled sanctuary by the minute, and if he wasn’t moving around, he’d be fighting drowsiness, too.
The little ones were overexcited, between the show, the excitement of the after-pageant Christmas Eve party and the anticipation of Santa Claus’s gifts tomorrow morning. The Christmas triple whammy.
He looked up to share the moment with Zora.
She wasn’t where she’d been before. He took in the choir loft and tried to silence the alarm bells that blasted off in his mind.
“Mister, I have to go to the bathroom.”
A hard tug on his arm forced him to look down at a boy who was dressed as a superhero. Apparently the magi had brought modern friends to greet the infant, too.
“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to ask your mom or dad to take you.” He scanned the audience, waiting for someone to claim the child. A man hustled up from the third row.
“Sorry. He had a big glass of juice before we left the house. You need to go now, don’t you, Ryan?”
The little hero nodded, eyes big.
Bryce smiled. “No problem.”
He looked up at the choir loft again, expecting Zora to be back, maybe talking to the organist during the break in the music. Instead, what he saw was a sight he knew would be imprinted on his mind and heart forever.
Thick smoke blanketed the loft and organ, obscuring his view. The flames seared his heart with a fear he’d never known before.
“Evacuate!” He turned to the SVPD officer nearest him. “There’s smoke and I just saw flames in the loft. Call it in and get these people out of here.”
Before the officer could respond, Bryce was flying up the side aisle, heading for the side stairwell to the loft.
* * *
Zora smelled the familiar noxious fumes a heartbeat before she felt the shove in the middle of her back. If not for the high railing, she would have already been on top of the people in the pews below.
Dead.
She turned and grabbed at whoever was pushing her and caught a fistful of wet, cold fabric.
A Christmas red flannel shirt.
“Ernie!” She gasped out his name as his face, contorted in a sick combination of psychosis, rage and purpose, loomed over her.
“You don’t belong here, you stupid bitch!” He went for her throat with his hands and she blocked him with moves learned first at the naval academy and most recently in her Trail Hikers training. She used his momentary loss of balance to knee him in the groin while shoving her hand up into his nose. Bones and cartilage crunched under her palm and she didn’t stop, allowing instinct to take over. As he bent to grab his injured genitals she shoved him hard and he flipped backward over the antique pew, landing on the one behind him headfirst.
Zora stood shaking as adrenaline pumped through her. Ernie wasn’t moving but she couldn’t be sure how long he’d be down.
Where the hell was the organist?
Her eyes went quickly to the empty organ bench, next to which lay Eli Jones, his head tilted at an awkward angle. She ran to his side and pressed her hand on his neck.
Thank God, a pulse.
“Zora!”
She heard her name through roar of the...
The flames.
Ugly, white fingers of gasoline-powered flames surrounded her as they climbed up the dry wooden panels. Her eyes teared from the stinging smoke as she looked around, and for the first time since putting Ernie down she realized the church was emptying. The pageant participants were being evacuated.
He’d started the fire before he came for her.
“Zora!” Bryce called for her but the flames were so intense where the stairwell met the loft she couldn’t see him.
“Don’t come here—you’ll never get out!” she yelled as she l
ooked for an escape. She’d never be able to leave via the stairs. Ernie had set both exits on fire.
The loft extended toward the front of the church, near the altar. She could make it there.
Squatting, she spoke to the organist as loudly as she could.
He groaned.
“Can you feel your legs, Eli?”
“Yes.” He bent his knees, then moved his feet.
“Great. I’m going to get us out of here. I need you to stand up. I’ll hold you as much as I can.”
As for Ernie, he was on his own.
* * *
Bryce couldn’t get past the heat of the flames and had to abandon the stairs. He ran to the most central part of the main floor and his heart threatened to give out when he couldn’t see Zora.
“Zora!”
“I’m here!” she answered from the loft. But where the hell was she?
“Where!”
Damn it, where was the fire department?
As if they’d heard his thoughts, the first wail of sirens reached his ears. That was no comfort, though, as he finally saw Zora with—was she dragging someone?
“Zora, get out! You can’t take anyone with you.”
“It’s Eli! Just go to the end of the loft by the altar and help me once I get us there,” she yelled in between gasps as she was obviously using every bit of strength she had to help Eli Jones get up and start walking with her.
Relief flooded him. She only had to get to the end of the loft and he’d get her down if he had to catch her in his arms himself.
A huge crack rent the air, and the loft’s floor gave way. It seemed to be happening in slow motion as the weight of the organ fell through the wooden planks, bringing down the floor to the very edges of the loft.
He couldn’t move as he waited for the flash to subside and shouted when Zora’s and Eli’s forms reappeared, this time crawling, on the only remaining ledge left.
They had minutes until the entire church went up.
* * *
Ernie knew they thought he’d gone down with the loft. One thing about fires—if you stayed low you had a better chance. His flannel shirt was the real trick. He’d soaked it with water before he came up to the loft, allowing him to get through the flames at the entry to the stairs. He practiced earlier today to make sure the red cloth wouldn’t look darker when wet and give his plan away. He couldn’t take any chances, not this close to his goal.
