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Only after letting God into his life had he saw the true magnificence of the world. Behind its graffiti and pollution and crime, there was a soft underbelly of beauty that connected its inhabitants in loving and natural harmony, but we had to pay for this beauty with sacrifice. To be real, a sacrifice must cost, hurt, and empty. You will accomplish great things on the condition you believe in his love more than your own weakness.
Tragically, not everyone believed this mantra, even those who claimed to be virtuous. People were quick to protest when God abandoned them, but didn’t stop to consider their own neglect that came before. It was easy to turn to intoxicants and short-term highs and outlandish beliefs that had no basis in reality, and these things were mere substitutes for true holiness. They were a temporary refuge from fear.The allure of intoxicationandfleeting euphoriawasa temptation too hardtoresist, and so there was only one solution for these immoral defectors.
They needed to be tested.
Joanne, David, Gary. The time had come for them to prove their mettle. They had to demonstrate their faith and their worth in light of the pure tragedies, and none of them had come out stronger on the other side. Their hearts had been ripped out by fortune’s cruel hand, leavingthemwith nothing but emptiness inside – and it was times like this they should have been on their knees, praying to the heavens, showing resilience in the face of adversity.
They hadn’t done that. They’d simply bowed their heads in surrender, accepting their fate like weak heathens.
Motherhood, wealth, possession. If these things weren’t worth fighting for, then God had no place for them in this world anymore. Did he feel bad taking the lives of these people? Before putting his plan into action, he’d been concerned that the physical act would take its toll on him, but he was simply the conduit of the lord. His blade was a mere surrogate for a higher power. He had no emotional connection to any of these lost souls.
Nor would have any connection to the next one. He’d already selected her, primed her, thrown her world into chaos.
Had she thrived? Flourished? Kept her faith and came out stronger in the face of hardship?
No, she’d floundered like the rest of them. Deserted God and filled the empty void in her soul with alcohol and pills.
So when nightfall came, she too would face the repercussions of her failures, and when that was done, he’d leave this town and start up again elsewhere. Tonight was the final night of testing.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Ella paced from wall to wall in the office, trying to sweat off her frustration.
It wasn’t working.
Ripley, sitting stoically at the desk, said, “I can’t believe that. I really felt like we had our killer.”
“Alibis still need to check out. He could still be our guy,” Ella said.
Ripley’s phone pinged on the table in front of her. She idly glanced over and read the new message. “Nope,” she said with a sigh. “Ted was in hospital all night. Confirmed.”
Ella curled her fist into a ball and pressed it into the wall. An unrelenting tidal wave of disappointment emerged thick and fast, raging her through muddy waters, burying her on the ocean floor that was her mind. “What are we missing, Ripley? How can we come so close only to get knocked back ten steps?”
“We’re not missing anything. We just got the wrong guy. In a town like this, we’re always going to find connections between people.”
“True. We need to figure this out. Our killer knows intimate details about these victims’ lives. Take Joanne for example. How many people would be aware she’d lost a child? It’s not something you advertise.”
“Word could spread around, I guess,” Ripley said. “But where exactly would you talk about such a thing anyway? The same goes for David and Gary. People aren’t going to shout from the heavens about their failures.”
“Agreed,” Ella said as she began brainstorming on the whiteboard. “So he needs to get close to them. A therapy session would be the perfect place, but it looks like that’s out of the window. Where else?”
“Could be online therapy? That’s all the rage.”
Ella considered it. “Could you really see Gary using a computer? Or a phone? He didn’t even have one.”
“Good point. What about somewhere like Alcoholics Anonymous? Maybe there are groups for specific traumas.”
Ella furiously scribbled, stream-of-consciousness writing. “I like it. I’ll note it down.”
Ripley rose from her chair and leaned over the desk, eyeballing Ella’s ramblings on the board. “Hold on a second, Dark. We might have missed something here. Look, read your drivel back and tell me something doesn’t suddenly jump to mind.”
Ella complied with the request. She read her hastily written notes.Religious motivation. Mercy killer. Has intimate access to each victim prior to murder. Simplistic M.O. Mission-oriented. No significant ritual.Inconsistent victimology. No surrogates.
“What?” she asked.
“Our killer is a complete Jesus freak. To me, that conjures up a very specific image. A very specific job.”
Ella took a moment to catch up with Ripley’s train of thought. She slammed her hand against the wall in triumph. “Dammit, of course. A priest.”
