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But, as the night wore on, and there was no sign of him, she became less sure. Where was he? Was he hiding away, planning on only striking tomorrow? She didn't want an extra day's delay in finding Rose, and if he wasn't caught tonight, then the danger to the foundation would be ongoing.
Gabe had taken one of her stolen guns. She wasn't going to let him go into this unarmed, no way. Not against a man with an ax who wasn't going to hesitate to use it.
He had the gun tucked out of sight under the plain brown work jacket that partially covered his white sweater. Cora had hers hidden away likewise. And every so often, Gabe would go outside, either to walk around the church and pretend to view the work from the front or to rummage in the tool kit they'd left out there. At those times, Cora insisted that he carried his gun in his hand, out of sight, folding his arms or keeping his hands behind him so it was well hidden. They were giving this man every chance. But where was he?
It was close to midnight, then after midnight.
Cora felt exhaustion setting in. She needed to call it at some stage. The church was used for late-night events, but their presence here too late might clue the killer that something was really wrong. They didn't want to scare him off, not after having gone to such trouble to set the trap.
"I think we're going to have to stop now," she said.
In case he was listening out, they'd made sure to talk among themselves just as if they were two foundation employees trying to get a job done.
"You think?" Playing the part, Gabe stretched his arms out, yawned, and looked at the section of wood that they'd been working on, which formed part of the now rotting doorway to the inner room. "I think it needs more work."
"Not tonight. It's repaired enough that it can be used. We're not going to get it perfect. Tomorrow’s another day. Come on, let's get some shuteye," Cora argued.
"Well, okay," Gabe complained. "You're the one who'll have to explain this to the leader."
"He'll understand. We need our rest if we're going to do those other repairs in the farmhouse tomorrow morning."
Cora tiredly packed away her tools, trying to make as much noise as she could. There was still a chance he might try to rush Gabe as they left or even when they arrived back at the farmhouse to drop the tools off. She was ready and knew he was, too.
They turned out the lights. Now, the church was dark, the door like a gaping mouth.
But as Cora headed out with a box of tools in each hand, trudging along to the car, she decided that this wasn't going to happen tonight. They had definitely missed out, somewhere, on the chance to attract his attention. Maybe he wasn't even here, and if she'd been wrong and he was at home, they'd need to check that long list again and see what they could come up with.
She put the boxes in the car, turned around, and felt horror twist her gut. Because there was nobody behind her. She'd been expecting Gabe to be there, she'd assumed to see him there, but the path behind her was empty.
Where was Gabe?
He'd been right behind her; he'd been about to walk out of the church when she had.
And now, he was gone.
"Gabe?" she called. "Gabe?"
She listened carefully, battling to hear over the thumping of her heart. Self-recrimination was already exploding inside her, telling her that her recklessness, her inability to do anything but speak her mind, had landed him in danger. Where was he? Where?
She reached for the gun hidden under her jacket, her fingers closing around the cool metal grip, the weapon giving her some small reassurance. She knew she had to be careful now – she couldn't afford to panic and make a mistake. She took a deep breath and walked back toward the church, taking out her flashlight, shining it to and fro.
"Gabe?"
She couldn't hear anything. The wind had picked up, and the sighing and moaning of the trees was drowning out any noise there might have been.
He wasn't lying anywhere. He hadn't been rushed, hadn't been overpowered or hit over the head or attacked.
Surely he couldn't have been dragged into the woods? That was impossible, right? She’d have heard something.
How about in the church itself? It chilled her to the bone to think that this killer might have been waiting in there all this time, but she guessed he could have been. Had he rushed up behind Gabe, used a club, a knife?
Anxiety now threatening to suffocate her, she walked back into the church.
"Gabe?"
She shined the flashlight around, wishing its beam stretched further, but ahead of her, she could see only a few shadows, and she couldn't see Gabe at all.
And then, a subtle breeze, no more than a disturbance of the air above her, caused her to look up, shining the flashlight in that direction, gasping as what had been no more than a shadow became reality.
