Ten Plagues (9 page)

“But they were gone. It’s not the same as me livin’ inside.”

“Rosita, promise me you’ll be careful.”

Rosita shrugged. “Sure.”

“Paul, say something.” Keren glared at him.

For some reason that made him want to smile. “Rosita,” Paul said, “promise me.” He didn’t add anything else.

Rosita gave him a mutinous look, then, with a huff of displeasure, she said, “I have a date with Manny tonight. I need to walk a few blocks to catch a bus.”

“What time?” Paul asked.

“It’s a six-o’clock bus.”

“I’ll be here at five thirty to walk with you, and you make Manny meet you at the other end and ride back with you and walk you every step of the way back to the mission.”

Rosita bloomed with pleasure. “You’d do that for me, Pastor P? Just so I can keep my date?”

“Manny’s a good boy, Rosie. I don’t blame you for wanting to spend time with him.”

Rosita smiled and deep dimples appeared in her cheeks.

“I said he’s a good boy, but he’s still a boy. Remember what I said, Rosita, about getting too close too fast.”

“It’s not like I’m exactly a virgin, Pastor P. You of all people know that.”

Keren’s body jerked just a little. Paul looked at her, but he couldn’t read her expression.

Rosita apparently had no trouble. “That’s not what I meant.” She rested a hand on Keren’s arm. “There’s nothin’ like that between the pastor and me. Never has been.”

Paul looked closer. Keren had that detached cop expression on her face.

“I was hooking for crack when I met Pastor P. That’s how he knows. He pulled me off the street. He saved me.”

“I didn’t save you, Rosita. Only God can save you. Now don’t change the subject. You watch Manny,” Paul scolded.

“Manny cares about me.”

“If he doesn’t care enough about you to wait for marriage, then he doesn’t care enough about you.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Rosita said with a pout. Then her grin escaped, and Paul knew she was teasing him. “Manny behaves himself, I see to it.”

“Good girl. If you explain things to him, he’ll insist on bringing you home.” Paul reached into his pocket and pulled a ten-dollar bill out. He pressed it into her hand. “Now, no excuses. This will cover the bus ride for both of you.”

Rosita clutched the ten dollars to her chest. “Thank you, Pastor P.” With a bright smile, she whirled toward the mission.

The two of them watched her run. Keren said dryly, “Can you remember ever being that young?”

“I had a paper route from the time I was nine. I worked nights all through high school. I entered the police academy when I turned eighteen and went to night school to get a degree. I don’t think I was ever young.”

Keren took a deep breath. “We’ve got to get back to your apartment. The FBI is sending someone over to inspect the place better than we can, and if they find bugs, they’ll try to trace them. They’re bringing in a profiler from DC. We’ll break this case. We’ll get this lunatic.”

Paul shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t do something stupid like touch Keren again. “In time to save LaToya?”

They headed back to the building. Keren said, “Hey, how come she can call you Pastor P and I can’t call you Rev?”

“It’s all in the inflection.”

Keren smiled and something passed between them. A moment of uncomplicated peace.

His phone rang.

P
ravus leaned close with his fine brush. Details, he loved the tiny details. He imagined how the monks had labored over their translation of the Bible. They’d written it in Latin of course, God’s language.

Opening a vein was like breathing life into dust and making a living being. Pravus could feel it, that he was godlike in his creation, and in his power over life and death. The white dress, virginal covering for the foul sinners he chose. It made the perfect backdrop for his art. To protect his work he’d used brown ink for Juanita, since his plans included getting her very wet. But for the rest of them, he’d paint with his victim’s blood.

A tremor of excitement shook his hand and he pulled away quickly, terrified he’d ruined it. He hadn’t. There was a bit of a waver in the line he’d made, but it was right. It was beautiful. He looked at what he’d done, and he smiled. Pharaoh was a fool. Powerful, but so sure he ruled his little world that he didn’t even know the end was coming.

Paul Morris was such a man. Thought he was powerful. Wouldn’t let the people go. Ran his little kingdom just like he’d run the police department.

Once his hand stilled, Pravus found again that center of peace and power he’d learned at his father’s knee. He’d been taught with the end of a belt to sit still and create.

Father would be so proud.

A few more details. A flourish on the words that made his heart sing. LaToya’s veins provided the life in this work of genius. He stepped back.

“It is good.” His elation was so great he strode to the window to throw it open and shout. He didn’t, of course. He wouldn’t waste his words on a world too ignorant to understand him. Then he looked down to where he always watched and almost laughed aloud.

There was someone who’d want to share the news. The reverend. Standing there with the lady detective. He’d seen her at the site of the explosion and listened, then studied her carefully. Everything was at a man’s fingertips on the Internet these days. Pravus had already done some searching to find out just who she was, and he now had plans to include her.

Reaching for the phone, he wished he could make LaToya scream. That made the pastor do exactly as he was told. But LaToya lay silently on the table. Her arms tied, spread straight out at her sides, her legs secured. He’d cut deep, but it was necessary. He’d let her sin flow out and used it for something beautiful.

By the time he was done, he would save her.

Paul scrambled to grab his new cell phone out of his pocket. He hadn’t let it out of his possession since O’Shea had given it to him. He reached to flip it open.

Keren grabbed his arm. “Don’t!”

“This is my chance. LaToya’s kidnapper is going to give me some order. This is my chance to do it right and get her back.” His phone kept ringing.

Keren’s grip was like iron. “Give me a second.” She pulled her own phone out. With a press of one button she reached O’Shea.

Paul almost pulled away from Keren, but she held him too tightly. “What if Pravus isn’t in the mood to be patient? What if he’s watching us right now?”

“He’s getting a call,” Keren said into her phone. “Are you set?”

She hit a series of buttons on her cell. “Okay, I can listen in, and O’Shea is set to record. Is there a number on your display?”

“I wasn’t told anything about my phone being tapped.” Paul’s phone rang again.

Keren snagged it away from him and quickly recited the number to O’Shea.

“It’s not tapped, not really, we just keyed our phones into the same frequency and muted the speakerphones in ours so he can’t hear us. And we’re recording it, so okay, yeah, I guess it is tapped.” Keren glanced up at him. “You don’t mind, right?”

“Right.” Paul tried to take the phone away from her.

“Cell phones are fast and easy to trace; we need maybe fifteen seconds unless he’s got something special going with it. The FBI should be in place by morning with all their space-age equipment. But we’ve got what we need to track him right now.” Keren shoved the phone into his hands. “Answer it.”

Paul’s finger trembled until he nearly hit the wrong button and accidentally hung up. Then he got it right and pulled the phone to his ear.

“What took you so long, Reverend?”

Paul closed his eyes. Keren’s hand settled solidly on his shoulder. He looked at her, and she gave him an encouraging nod.

“Is this Pravus?” Paul wondered at the name. He’d heard it somewhere. Part of his seminary studies maybe, but that had been awhile ago.

“You know I’ve got little LaToya, and yet you make me sit here with the phone ringing and ringing.” The soft, cultured voice cut like a cold knife. “Almost like you don’t care. Almost like you understand that she needs to die.”

Paul said, as calmly as his terror would let him, “Pravus, you want to rid the world of evil, but you haven’t looked closely enough at LaToya. You picked the wrong woman.” What was he doing, trying to convince him to let LaToya go and kidnap someone less worthy?

Paul began to pray in his heart.
Lord, give me the words. If there are any words that will reach this man, let me say them
.

“You told me the same thing about Juanita,” Pravus crooned. “You are weak, Reverend. Twice you’ve begged for the lives of sinners.”

“Let her go, Pravus. Please, let her go. The way to cleanse the world of evil is to change hearts. To bring people to Jesus Christ with love. Killing people just spreads hate. You don’t want the evil to spread, do you?” Paul hesitated over the next words, but they felt right. And when you’re dealing with a madman, maybe it’s all useless anyway, so he spoke as he felt led. “I’ll help you face the demon that’s keeping you away from God.”

Keren gasped when he said it. She gave him a strangely intent look.

The soft, rhythmic voice broke, and Pravus snarled, “Don’t speak such foul words to me! I’m not evil.
They
are evil.
They
are the ones who won’t let my people go.”

Paul was suddenly aware of O’Shea behind him. O’Shea held up a note that said, “Ask about your police days.”

Paul nodded. “I’m sorry for what I did to you back then, Pravus. I did a lot of sinful things. I have asked God to forgive me; now I ask you.”

“I’ll never forgive you.
Never!
And I’m glad they’re dead. It was my first act of rebellion against the pharaohs who tried to keep my genius enslaved, and you were too stupid to even know it. Oh, and tell the pretty detective she certainly is one of the fairest in the land.”

A
click
ended the call. “Did you get it?” Keren asked O’Shea.

“Give me a second.” O’Shea hit a button on his phone and waited. “I think they could at least narrow it down in that amount of time.”

“He knows I’m working with the police.” Paul hung up. “He knows there’s a woman detective. He’s watching me somehow.”

O’Shea held out two small metal disks. “We found these bugs. Nothing fancy. But he’s watching you closely.”

“Listening devices in my apartment? I wonder how long those have been there.” It made Paul sick to think of it, though honestly, his apartment was close to the most boring place on earth. He didn’t spend much time there, and he certainly never brought anyone home. His life was strictly solo, except for work, since his wife’s death.

“We’ll track his number.” Keren’s jaw tensed as she looked at the bugs. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and get a name and address.”

“He’s not that stupid, Collins,” O’Shea cautioned.

“Maybe he is,” Keren protested. “Your real bright people don’t usually go into crime for a living.”

“Yeah, the fact that criminals are stupid really makes our job easier,” O’Shea conceded.

Keren turned to Paul. “You handled that really well. Good job.” Then she and O’Shea began discussing what they gleaned from the conversation.

Before they forgot him entirely, Paul said, “While Pravus was talking, I remembered something else.”

Both of them looked up excitedly. They looked almost happy, almost like they were enjoying themselves. Paul’s fists clenched in a sudden flash of fury. He wasn’t being fair, he knew. They were excited that they might be able to stop Pravus. But he still thanked God he was no longer a cop.

“What?” Keren demanded. “Did you recognize the voice? Do you know who it is?”

“No, I remember I’ve heard the word
pravus
before.”

Keren stepped closer to him. “What? What does it mean?”

“Evil.
Pravus
is the Latin word for ‘evil.’
Pravus spiritu
is ‘evil spirit.’ “

“Like a demon?” The color faded from Keren’s face.

For a moment Paul thought she might faint, but he didn’t really believe it. He knew he was dealing with one tough cookie. “Does that mean something to you?”

Keren shook her head. Finally, she said, “No, but it confirms something I have known … or … uh guessed all along.”

Paul nodded.

O’Shea sighed, and nodded, too.

They were dealing with a demon. A demon straight from hell.