Chapter 46

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

When she came to, she looked out the window of his car. He was turning onto a road that led toward the Mississippi River. Parks were popular places during the summer, but in the winter, they were almost completely deserted. He pulled into a parking area and then got out. He opened her door and grabbed her by the arm, yanking hard. Unfortunately, her seat belt was still fastened. His arm drew back, the gun in his hand.

"No!" she said loudly. She quickly fumbled with the belt, her fingers trembling with the cold and mounting fear. When the latch finally clicked, he pulled her out so quickly she almost got caught by the belt wrapping around her neck.

Once she was free, she looked around them. The parking area was deserted. Where was Tony? Why hadn't he followed them?

Swearing loudly, he began shoving her toward the river. She slipped twice on the snow, but both times he roughly pulled her to her feet.

"Knock it off," he yelled.

"I'm not slipping on purpose. The ground's icy and you're pushing me."

They finally reached a group of trees near the water, where he stopped. There were lights on poles back in the parking area, but here they were mostly in the dark. He let go of her but kept the gun leveled at her chest. Her face hurt where he'd hit her, but she had no intention of letting him know that.

"So, now you can ask your questions," he said. "I would enjoy answering them." His grin was demonic. Taunting.

"Is Joseph Baker angry that he didn't kill me? Did he order you to finish the job?" River was upset that her voice shook, but she couldn't help it. It wasn't just the icy temperature. She was attempting to fight the fear that was trying to wrap its arms around her. She was holding on to God's promises with all the strength she had. It seemed that He was the only one who could save her now.

His harsh laugh cut through the frigid air, his warm breath surrounding them like some kind of eerie smoke from a horror movie.

"You don't get it, do you? Joseph Baker isn't the Salt River Strangler."

As soon as the words left his lips, River finally understood. Once she and Tony realized who the man standing in front of her was, there'd been one question they couldn't answer. But now that she knew the truth, she became painfully aware that they should have figured it out sooner. Much sooner

"I thought you were both trained FBI profilers," he said in a low voice. The lights from the parking lot highlighted his features, making his face look like a Halloween mask, created to generate feelings of terror. It was working. "You blew it. And now you're going to die because of your failure. Not so cocky now, are you?"

"You're the Strangler. Baker is your minion. That's why he allowed himself to take the fall."

"Don't be mistaken. He killed his fair share of women—but only at my direction. When I told him my plan, he went along with it. He'd die before he'd let me down. Of course, now it doesn't matter anymore."

"But why? Why save us, David? You could have let Tony and me die."

He grinned. "You believed there was only one killer. I wanted you to know how wrong you were. Destroying your self-righteousness was a pleasure."

River kept glancing back up toward the street and he noticed.

"Ah, you're watching for your friend Tony ... and the police? I'm sorry, my dear, but they won't be coming. Did you think I wouldn't find the tracker you put on my car? Right now, your friends are chasing some poor schmuck who runs a real estate agency. I slapped your tracker on his car. It was parked next to mine in the parking lot. You don't seem to be wired, but even if you were, it wouldn't do you any good. You won't be found in time."

She wasn't wired. They'd been afraid he would check for that—and he had. Still, she couldn't stop watching the road behind him, praying that she'd see lights.

He laughed again. "Seriously, you can quit looking for your backup. No one's coming."

Suddenly, River began to feel a sense of peace. The prayer Tony had prayed seemed to grow inside her. She could swear she could hear him talking to her. Reassuring her. No matter what, God was with her, and she trusted Him. Knowing she wasn't really alone as she stood next to the massive river helped her to confront the terror that was trying to eat at her faith. She would be okay. Even if she left this life, she'd step into the next one, where she would find herself in the arms of her Savior. No one, not even the Salt River Strangler, could take that away from her.

"So, you accomplished what you wanted. You shook our con fidence. Let us find out there were two killers instead of one. So why murder me now?"

"I played with you for a while—the way a cat toys with a mouse before he kills it. But I have other goals. I want to ramp up my body count. Become a legend. I had to wait for you. For this. But now it's over." He laughed. "And before you ask, yes. I killed your friend Jacki, after she told me what I wanted to know. She's still in the river. Too bad you'll never find her."

She had already suspected Jacki was dead, but her eyes filled with tears at hearing him confirm it.

She could barely make out his features now, but she could see his face twist into a frown. "One thing I have to know. Just when did you realize who I was?"

"You did a great job of changing the way you look. The glasses, colored contacts, the beard and mustache. We didn't recognize you at all until we talked in the parking lot. You were upset about the trash near your car. You forget that we watched you testify. Spent time with you. Watched the way you move. The way you talk. You have an odd way of pronouncing the word debris. You add an ‘s' to the word. You said it that night. And when you walk, you favor your right leg. I suspect you were injured at some point in your life?"

"I broke my leg when I was a kid. Or, I should say, my mother broke it when I didn't eat the moldy bread she ordered me to ingest when I was seven."

"So you blame your mother for your twisted psyche? I know people who've gone through worse things than you can imagine but overcame them. I don't feel sorry for you."

He hesitated a moment, probably trying to control his rage. David Prescott wanted to kill her—but he had a plan. He wouldn't allow her to upset him and destroy his carefully constructed agenda. If she could just ignite his anger, she might be able to overcome him.

"And then of course we realized that the name of your company—TSRS—were initials for the Salt River Strangler, not the Thomas Sullivan Recovery Service."

"Why didn't you just call the police? I have to say, that would have been the smarter choice."

At that moment, she was thinking the same thing. "We wanted you to admit who you were. We had no evidence, and Baker won't rat you out. So we decided to set a trap. One where you would try to kill me. Where you would admit to your crimes. Just like you are now."

"And then your police friends would swoop in and save you? And arrest me?"

"That was the idea. We know how you think. It wouldn't take long for your narcissism to make you confess to everything you've done." She frowned at him. "My turn. How did you find out about the tracker on your car?"

He laughed again, but the sound of it gave her shivers. "Pure luck. Some guy who works for a graphic design firm a few doors down from my office saw Tony under my car. Asked if I was having car trouble. I found it odd that he would be messing with my car, so I checked it out. Found your tracker." He sighed. "It is really cold out here, and it's getting dark. Let's get this over with, shall we?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a zip tie. "You know the drill, right? Hands in front of you."

River hesitated.

"Obey me now, or I'll shoot you in the leg and do it myself. That choice would be much more painful for you."

River held her hands out in front of her, and he put the tie around her wrists. Then he pulled it so tight she cried out.

"Shut up," he barked. He pushed her down, grabbed her legs and then yanked another tie from his pocket. She watched as he put his gun down, pulled her ankles together, and zip-tied them as well. Was there some way to get his gun? Were the police and Tony relying on the tracker, or had they actually followed David's car? It was beginning to look as if no one was coming. Or if they were, that they might not get here in time.

The funny thing was, at that moment, what she wanted more than anything else, was to tell Tony St. Clair how much she absolutely loved him. She'd had the chance and hadn't taken it. Would she ever get another opportunity?