Three, four. Done.
Shove the mouth closed. Press the tape into place.
“Perfect. Now comes your punishment, you bad, bad girl.”
After having sat long minutes on the stone floor, the knife was cold.
Raise it high. Thrust it deep. Over and over.
The wounds gushed, spouting crimson and making the excitement build and build and build with each precisely numbered and placed plunge into smooth, flawless flesh.
And then the message they would all see.
The blood was hot. Formed the letters as if it had been made for just this purpose.
Sit back and assess the work, no mistakes.
“Perfect.”
Soon it would be done.
Gazing across the treetops, a triumphant smile formed. “Now who’s the devil?”
They would all see.
But their eyes would deceive them.
Exactly as planned.
22
717 High Street, Sunday, March 1, 6:00 a.m.
Christopher Mahaney’s hands shook as he lifted a mug of coffee to his lips.
Father, forgive my sins. Give me peace, heavenly Father.
For days Christopher had silently chanted that petition over and over. Still he felt no peace.
Rather, each day, the turmoil inside him continued to surge, increasing in intensity.
His hand wobbled. Coffee sloshed onto his skin. He plunked the cup onto the counter.
“Father, forgive me ...” His urgent whisper faded into silence. He closed his eyes and begged for mercy.
How much longer could he bear this immense cross?
Hadn’t he been punished enough?
The sin was not his alone. They had tempted him. Drawn him to the darkness ... to the evil sins of the flesh.
“You’re up early.”
Christopher whirled around. Met his wife’s accusing gaze. His heart lurched, ached. He tried not to hold her partially responsible. Had she been any kind of mate, perhaps his gaze would not have strayed ... perhaps he would not have failed the test. Now she insisted that heprotect her. Protect the niece he’d been forced to support. Fury twisted deep in his blemished soul.
He should go. Pray for forgiveness for his selfish thoughts. This was not the time to place blame or to resent his responsibilities. This was the time for action. For seeking guidance.
“I’m going to the chapel to pray.” He’d only just made the final decision. That Valerie’s body had been placed there was a sign. Christopher must pay attention to the signs.
