Find Me (35 page)

Living Word Church
, 4:00 P.M.

Deborah watched her husband kneeling before the crucifix. He prayed so diligently. And yet, no relief had come.

Their worst fears had been realized.

Chief Willard had called. He and that FBI agent would be arriving within the hour to speak to Christopher a third time.

The chief had held a press conference and announced that the Conner girl had identified the suspect as a male.

Now the authorities were going to take a closer look at all male persons of interest.

That was what they considered Christopher.

A person of interest.

Deborah had waited for days now. Prayed and watched unwaveringly for a sign.

Today that sign had appeared.

She had dozed off in her chair and awakened suddenly to find the sun shining through the living room windows. The play of light on the worn wood floors had danced before her eyes. For long minutes she had watched this simple production of nature. A spider had crawled into the open, drawn by the warmth from the sun.

At that same moment Tamara had entered the room. Believing her aunt to be asleep and seeing the spider creeping ever closer, the child rushed across the room, snatched up a magazine from the coffee table and smashed the spider. She had looked up, thinking that the noise had awakened her aunt, smiled and said, "That was a close one."

Deborah had known as she peered into the sweet face of her niece that she could wait no longer.

Despite her gnarled fingers and aching joints, the good Lord had given her a sharp mind.

When danger crept close… He expected her to do what needed to be done without delay.

Today.

The Overlook Inn
, 5:00 P.M.

A stack of messages in hand, Sarah unlocked the door to her room and let herself in. She shut the door, sagged against it and closed her eyes.

What was she thinking getting involved with him?

This
was definitely involved.

Not just sex.

Her body hummed with desire at the mere thought of him.

Not good. Not good at all.

It was a flat-out miracle she'd managed to get away from him long enough to take a shower. He'd insisted that she have dinner with him and his family that night.

If Sarah had half a brain left she would be out of here before then.

Like that was going to happen. She would finish this.

She'd watched the Pope home for hours. The only movement was when Jerri Lynn arrived. And a tow truck. Evidently there had been trouble with the girl's SUV. In case the vehicle was being towed for some purpose that would remove evidence, Sarah had noted the name of the towing company. She'd tried calling the number painted on the vehicle, but she'd gotten an answering machine.

Maybe twenty minutes later she noticed Jerald Pope leaving in his Infiniti. She'd wished like hell she'd been a position to follow him, but she and Kale had been in a boat. By the time they'd gotten back to his Jeep, Pope would have been long gone.

Sarah tossed the messages on her bed, dropped her bag, and headed for the bathroom. Twisting the old knobs, she set the water flow and temperature in the tub. She crossed back to the dresser and scrounged for clothes. She was down to her last clean jeans and panties. The sweatshirt would have to do since everything else was in need of laundering.

Staying this long hadn't been anticipated. But she couldn't leave until it was done. Tonight she would resume her surveillance.

She trudged back to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. The hot water soothed her aching muscles. She was sore in places she'd never been sore before. Her nipples instantly hardened as images and sensations from the trip to the island sifted through her.

Shutting off the water, she climbed out of the tub and grabbed a towel. The fluffy rug tickled her toes. Drying her skin quickly, she reached for the complimentary hair dryer next. When her hair was dry, she swiped on antiperspirant and got dressed.

There was nothing she could do to convince August or Willard of her conclusions on the investigation so that left her with only one choice. Watch her suspects herself.

Lynda and Jerald Pope.

After sliding clean, dry socks onto her feet, Sarah tugged on her Converses. She wondered if Lynda Pope had considered if she would get her boots back when she had Sarah's only shoes delivered to the inn. Sarah had rushed away from the Pope home after the search for Polly before Lynda could ask for her boots or suggest Sarah take her Converses.

If Sarah was right, Lynda wouldn't be needing them anyway.

She stood, grabbed her coat and bag, and headed for the door.

A white envelope lay on the floor next to her door. It definitely hadn't been there when she'd arrived. Sarah bent down and picked it up. Her name was penned across the front in flowing letters.

She dropped her bag and coat to tear the envelope open.

More of those flowing letters streamed across the single, folded page.

Hey Sarah,

Sorry I had to go without saying bye, but I couldn't stay. I've always known he was here. I could feel him like a second heartbeat echoing my own. He is marked with 666. Maybe you won't believe me, but please be careful. He's watching you. He uses people sometimes as an angel of light to mislead. Be careful. And wear the necklace. He's very, very close.

Matilda

Sarah tugged on her coat and shoved the letter into the pocket. The devil, 666. She shook her head. Mixed-up kid.

But damned good at sizing up people. Her instincts were on target even if her beliefs were missing the mark.

A hard-knock life would do that to a person. Make them grow up fast and be wise beyond their years.

That's all it was.

Sarah got in her rental car and headed to the Chapel of the Innocents. In case the area was still considered an official crime scene, she planned to approach from the opposite end of the road. She would stop a good distance away, out of view of anyone who might be monitoring the area, and cut through the woods. Her goal was to reach that ridge overlooking the Pope house.

Since it wasn't quite dark yet, she found the far end of Chapel Trail where it intersected with another narrow road without any difficulty. She grabbed her bag and emerged from the car. Careful to make only minimal sound when she closed the door, she headed into the woods. Snow topped her shoes and, as usual, crowded up her pants legs.

She stayed east, with the sun setting behind her.

By the time she reached her destination it was almost dark. Following her tracks back out wouldn't be a problem. She had her trusty flashlight.

She adjusted her binoculars and scoped out the house. The lights were blazing inside. Perfect. Her phone vibrated.

Ignoring it crossed her mind, but if another girl had gone missing, she needed to know. She pulled out her phone, checked the screen.
Blocked call
.

Her shrink had never stooped to that level. Neither had her editor.

She flipped it open. "Newton." A moment of silence elapsed. "Newton," she repeated, annoyed. "Sarah Newton," the voice said.

Male, she decided, though it was distorted, almost garbled.

"That's me, asshole. What's up?"

"You're a fraud."

The dead air that followed the statement told her the call had ended even before she checked the screen.

She shoved the phone back into her pocket. She'd been called worse. Just in case, she felt her other pocket to ensure the pepper spray was there.

Focusing back on the house, she spotted Jerri Lynn on the sofa watching television. As Sarah watched, Lynda entered the room and asked her daughter something. The two argued. Big gestures. Lots of agitation. "Hmmm."

Obviously neither of them had been her caller. The Infiniti was back in the driveway. So, where was Jerald? Snow crunched. She froze.

A split second before she reached for the pepper spray, a hand went over her mouth and nose. An arm banded around her waist. She kicked. Punched. Thrashed. The hand pressed harder against her face… there was a cloth in his palm. Fight!

But her struggles were futile. Her arms grew too heavy to fling. Her legs too leaden to propel.

That was when she noticed the strange smell… and how the world suddenly went dark.