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Fifty-Two
Emily Wolfe wished she had alerted her dad earlier. After what had happened to Aimee, she had promised to tell her father when someone was in danger. In fact, she should have told him the moment she walked out of the restroom and discovered Julia had taken off to follow a stupid character. She had seen players nearly run over trying to catch a character. They seemed to fixate on the game and forget their surroundings. Her father’s stern warning not to trust a soul had filled her mind, but in fear of her friend’s safety, she bolted in the direction Julia had headed. She doubted a killer would try to kill two girls walking together. She had seen Julia in the distance, her head illuminated by the screen of her cellphone.
After leaving the lighted areas far behind and moving into the backlot, she feared for her safety and was about to call out to her friend to stop when a man stepped out of a dark building as if he had been waiting for her to arrive. It seemed creepy strange as if he just happened to be in the deserted area of the fairgrounds. A tingle of fearful anticipation ran down her spine and she melted into the shadows, but the sight of Julia speaking with someone she knew convinced her something was terribly wrong. Dad thinks the killer knows the victims. When the man bent to look at the cellphone, she recognized him. He’d been right in front of them all along, yet nobody had suspected him.
From the body language, he had offered to escort her to find the character, and they headed toward a long, dark building. She had seen Julia’s grateful smile and immediately hit her tracker button. Her short message to her father lacked the vital information he required, and he would be fuming not knowing her exact location. As she pressed her back against the cool brick wall of the stables and turkey-peeked around the corner, terror like nothing she had experienced before gripped her.
In the dimly lit interior, Julia strolled beside him, her head focused on the cellphone in her hand, chatting like there was no tomorrow. Her friend had failed to notice the man beside her was swinging a black sock filled with something heavy. She had no doubt that in the next few moments she would witness Julia’s murder.
She wanted to scream out a warning and rush to her friend’s aid, but even the defense moves her father had taught her would not stop a psychopathic lunatic. Legs heavy, she moved back a few steps, hoping the slight crunch of the gravel under her boots would not give her away. Sweat trickled down her back and she swallowed hard, wishing the shadows would conceal her. She had to get help but the moment she opened her mouth, the killer would hear her.
Heart pounding, she lifted her shirt to bring the glittery guitar brooch containing one of the trackers to her mouth and kept her voice to a whisper. “Dad, I’m at the other end of the fairgrounds, the last stable block, on the right. Come quickly. It’s Reverend Jones. He’s going to kill Julia.”
Palms sweaty and heart thumping against her ribs, she crept forward. Hearing a thump then the sound of something hitting the ground, she trembled uncontrollably. She had to know what was happening to her friend and took a quick peek around the corner then froze. Julia lay sprawled on the ground, her arms and legs twitching, but Reverend Jones was nowhere in sight.
The need to run bunched her muscles and she darted out of her hiding place. As the crunch of footsteps came close behind her, she opened her mouth to scream but the sound came out in a whimper. Gasping for air, she chanced a look over one shoulder. He was less than five feet from her and gaining fast.
The leather soles of her new cowboy boots slipped on the gravel but she had a head start and could run fast. She headed for the blacktop in the middle of the grounds and took off at full speed. Behind her, his footsteps pounded on the road and she could hear his heavy breathing getting closer. I have to escape.
She lifted her knees and sprinted toward the lights. Her dad would be coming and she just had to reach him. If she could make it around the last building, she would be in the open and he would see her. The heavy footsteps thundered behind her. A strong hand grasped her hair and pain shot up her neck as Jones wrenched her to a halt. She twisted and stared into the face of evil.
Clawing at his face and eyes, and trying to knee him, Emily fought using every move her father had taught her. “Daddy, help me.”
Gasping, she lifted her knee sharply and hit pay dirt. Jones made a long moaning sound and let go of her hair but seemed to recover in a split second. Pain shot through her face from his punch and she staggered then broke away and ran. Her vision blurred, tears streamed down her face but she made it around the last building and could see people heading toward her. “Daddeeeeeee.”
“He can’t help you now.” The reverend’s voice had changed to a sinister growl.
The sharp tug on her scalp pulled her to a standstill once more and she fell to the ground with the weight of him on top of her. Winded, she gasped in a painful breath. The stink of him filled her nostrils and his sweat dripped onto her face. She had clawed his cheeks and blood oozed from the corner of one eye.
She caught the glint of a knife and screamed, “Daddy, help me!”
“I’m so going to enjoy killing you.” Jones’s blood-streaked lips curled into a smile.
The promenade lights blinked in the sharp blade as it rose high in the air. Unable to fend him off, she waited to die. The next moment, Sheriff Alton crashed into them and locked both hands around the reverend’s wrist. Her head came down on his nose in a sickening crunch and one foot locked around his waist.
“Drop the knife, you’re surrounded.” The sheriff rolled to one side and slammed his hand into the ground. “Drop the damn knife.”
“Bitch.” Jones swung a fist at her face. “I’ll cut you so bad your mother won’t recognize you.”
The sheriff ducked the punch then rolled the reverend away from her. Terrified, Emily dragged her leaden
body away. The reverend reared up but the sheriff had his arm in a death grip, her legs locked around his waist, and she was squeezing so tight Jones’s face was turning blue. Footsteps came running and in the blink of an eye, Deputy Kane had ripped the knife from the reverend’s fingers. The deputy had Jones by the throat, lifting him high in the air.
“Put me down.” Reverend Jones’s eyes bulged as he fought to breathe through his bloody nose. He moved his gaze to Sheriff Alton. “I had a special time planned for you. No game, no rules, just you and me and a knife.”
“Shut your mouth.” Deputy Kane’s eyes flashed with anger. “One more word and I’ll tear your head off.”
“Stand down, Kane.” Sheriff Alton’s worried face came into view. “I want this animal alive, but get him away from Emily.”
“Great tackle, by the way.” Kane’s lips twitched as he shoved Jones toward the gathering deputies.
“Oh Jesus.” Her dad, white-faced and angry as hell, kneeled beside her and gathered her into his arms. “You are so grounded for life.” He checked her injuries, muttering curses under his breath.
Head spinning, she sat up slowly. “Julia is in the stable. The last one, way back there. He hit her over the head.” She pointed in the direction. “She was moving, so she might be okay.”
“I’m on it.” Sheriff Alton turned her concerned gaze toward Deputy Kane. “With me. Rowley, take care of the prisoner and call the paramedics.”
Emily looked up at her father. “I remembered everything you taught me. Look at the damage I did to him, and if he’d killed me, I would have his DNA under my fingernails.”
