Page 134 of Coordinates of Death

“You had killed five women by that time, and you’re blaming me for inconveniencing you? You really are sick.”

Jade marched up to Aurora and slapped her across the face. “No one calls my brother names. No. One.”

Aurora’s hand flew to her cheek, nursing the sting. “Dale, why mutilate those poor women and make us use their body parts?”

He snickered. “For fun. Did you like my special touch of using Kordell’s handprint to open the door?”

“How did you do that?”

“Wasn’t hard. I come and go in the station, pretending to be helpful. I was watching through the station’s camera and saw the two of you having coffee. Then I snuck back into the lunchroom and nabbed his coffee cup. Only required his fingerprints, then I created the program to read each print in a certain order.”

“So that’s why it didn’t work on the first couple of tries. Kord didn’t place his fingers in your preprogrammed order?” Aurora noted the pride beaming on Jade’s face. Pride in her brother’s ingenuity.

“Correct.” He tapped his temple. “Smart, huh?”

“You’re a genius.” Jade grabbed Dale’s arm. “Brother, Kordell will be here soon. It’s time to prepare their last supper. I won’t wash Rory’s hair like I did the others, though. Hers is already squeaky-clean.” She glanced back at Aurora, her face distorting into evil. “It’s time for you and Kordell to die.”

The twins snickered and exited the room, slamming the door closed before bolting the lock in place.

Aurora flinched at the eerie clanging, the echo bouncing around the dungeon cell. Shadows crawled across the stone walls, and each flicker of light from the small lantern tightened the dread in her muscles.

There was no way out.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Aurora plopped back onto the concrete slab and buried her head in her hands, sobbing. A hodgepodge of emotions flooded her brain and overflowed. Losing Anna, and the guilt she’d carried all these years, and how her parents had blamed her for not paying closer attention to her little sister. The shame of her rape, the discovery of her pregnancy, and the sorrow of losing her child. Dirk’s betrayal. Kordell’s secrets. The guilt over her mother’s admission to the Gravenstone Institute and her death. Aurora’s failure to catch the Shadow Box Killer two years ago, and today, plagued her. Perhaps Wheeler was right. She wasn’t fit to be a corporal.

She sank to the ground, the stone floor biting into her knees. But she didn’t care. The pain couldn’t compare with the ache in her heart. Even though her mother didn’t blame her for anything, Aurora struggled with the emotional turmoil of wondering what their relationship would have been like if she had only paid more attention to her mother. If her selfish brain had seen the anguish plaguing Pam Hunt, maybe Aurora could have helped.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” She had been so tangled in the fear of becoming like her mother that she’d failed to see the truth. Her mother had needed her.

I never blamed you for Anna’s death. I forgive you for slapping me that day.

“But Mom, I blamed myself. How can I forgive myself?”

Let go, sweet child. You are strong.

More of her mother’s words. Was she right? Even though Aurora had closed many cases in her career, this one had cost her dearly. Cost her confidence. Her coworkers’ respect. And now it was too late. She was going to die at the hands of the person she had tried hard to stop. How could her mother say Aurora was strong?

I’m weak.

God has big plans for your life.

Aurora clamped her hands over her ears, attempting to stop her mother’s words. How could God use her, especially here in this darkened room with no way of escape?

Be God’s light and shine!

Aurora stilled. Was God bringing her mother’s words back to her for a reason?

She looked up. “What are You telling me, God? I could use Your divine intervention right about now.”

Aurora folded her hands in a prayer position, resting them on the cold concrete bed in front of her, and bowed her head. “God, I don’t understand why You allowed the things You did in my life, but is Mom right? You have a plan for my life? Even now, when I’m facing death?” She chewed on her lip before continuing. “I’m sorry for not trusting You. I’m sorry for so many things—all of which You know. Please forgive me. I want to be Your light, shining brightly for all to see.” Tears flowed down her cheeks like a dam breaking loose, gushing out with force and cleaning her from the inside out.

After several minutes, she placed her palms on the bed and pushed herself upright—strength returning to her legs.

Run with patience the race that is set before us.

The verse her pastor had recently spoken about tumbled into Aurora’s mind. Yes, it was time to finish the race.