Sidney Sheldon - Chasing Tomorrow

Probably. Jean was tempted to go and see for himself. He had no other leads, and would at least feel like he was doing something. But if Tracy was meeting Daniel Cooper in Plovdiv and he was stuck out in the sticks on a wild-goose chase . . .

“Okay. Let me know if anything else comes up.”

He hung up, but the phone rang again immediately. Antoine Cléry sounded breathless.

“I think we’ve found her!”

“Here? In Plovdiv?”

“Yes, sir. She checked into the Hotel Britannia two nights ago.” Cléry blurted out the address.

“I’m on my way.”

Jean Rizzo started running.

TRACY HIT AND KICKED for all she was worth, lashing out with her nails and teeth, fear and rage both driving her on. But for such a small man, Cooper was astonishingly strong. In just seconds he had pinned her down on the ground. Unable to move her arms or legs, Tracy was utterly powerless, like a butterfly with its wings pinned to a board. The darkness was total, like death. She felt Cooper reach down and undo the button and zipper of her jeans, shoving them roughly to her knees. Within seconds, his clammy hand was inside her underwear, touching her.

“My wife.” He sighed. “My angel.”

Vomit rose up in Tracy’s throat. Cooper’s fingers prodded and invaded while his foul breath assailed her nostrils. He was slow, delighting in what he was doing. Every few seconds he let out a little squeal of excitement.

No! This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

Tracy flashed back.

She was in Joe Romano’s house in New Orleans. She was twenty-two years old, pregnant with Charles Stanhope’s baby, and she’d come to avenge her mother’s death, to force Romano to admit the truth: that he and his Mafia buddies had killed Doris Whitney, killed her with their lies and greed and arrogance. But it had all gone wrong. Joe Romano overpowered Tracy easily, laughing as he pushed her down, ripping her blouse away and pinching her nipples.

“Fight me, baby! I love it! I’ll bet you’ve never been fucked by a real man.”

Tracy had reached for her gun and shot Romano, leaving him for dead. But her gun was gone now. She was powerless. Daniel Cooper was on top of her, grunting like a pig. Tracy heard him unzip his fly. Terror overcame her. I can’t do it! I can’t fight him off!

She forced herself to focus. There had to be something else, another way to stop him.

What did she know about him?

What were his weak spots? His fears?

He’s the Bible Killer. He hates prostitutes.

His breath was coming faster now.

He hates immoral women. He believes he’s on a mission from God.

Cooper pushed up her T-shirt. His wet lips were on Tracy’s breasts, sucking at her like a baby at its mother’s teat. Tracy sobbed, squirming away from him, aware that her struggling only heightened his excitement. Ripping off her jeans and panties completely, Cooper straddled her, forcing her thighs farther apart. His erection, tiny but rock hard, pressed against Tracy’s stomach.

For God’s sake, Tracy! Think of something! Make him stop.

And then it came to her.

“We have to stop.” She spoke firmly, like a schoolteacher admonishing a child. “Daniel! We have to stop NOW.”

Her tone made Cooper hesitate for a split second.

“We’re not married yet.”

Cooper froze on top of her like a statue.

“What?”

“I said we’re not married. This is against God’s law and you know it. We’re not married and we can’t marry. Not while Jeff Stevens is still alive.”

Reluctantly, Cooper slid off Tracy onto his knees. She was still pinned underneath him and the gun, her gun, was still pressed against her skull.

“What makes you think Jeff Stevens is still alive?” Cooper sounded petulant.

“Well, isn’t he?” Tracy masked her fear as best she could. She kept her voice steady but her legs had begun shaking uncontrollably. Please let him be alive. Please don’t let all this have been for nothing.

“I don’t know.”

This wasn’t the answer Tracy had expected. She knew she had to think quickly.

“You know where he is, though, don’t you, Daniel?”

“Of course I do.” Cooper laughed, a high-pitched, oddly feminine giggle. Tracy remembered it well.

“The lamb is at Golgotha, my dear. The sacrifice has been made. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

Golgotha. Place of the skull. Tracy’s mind raced. Wasn’t Golgotha on a hill? Or perhaps Cooper was speaking purely metaphorically.

“I asked the Lord to spare him until you came. I wanted you to see. But you took so long, Tracy. He may be dead by now.”

“Take me to him, then,” Tracy blurted.

“I don’t think so.”

“But you have to!” She could hear the desperation creeping back into her voice. “Let me see before it’s too late. Isn’t that what you wanted? What the Lord wanted?”

“No. Not anymore.”

“He’s my husband, Daniel. The Bible says we can’t—”

“I SAID NO!”

The hard metal of the gun slammed into Tracy’s cheek. The blow was so sudden, she felt it more as shock than pain.

“ I’m your husband! I’m the one God chose to save you. It was your lust for Stevens that blinded you all these years. But that’s all past now.”

He began again, and this time there was no stopping him. Tracy knew what would happen, and the knowing took away the fear. Hands were on her, hurting her, but they weren’t his hands. This time the hands belonged to Lola and Paulita and Ernestine Littlechap. Tracy was on the concrete floor of her cell in the Louisiana State Penitentiary, and the women were beating and violating her while she wept and pleaded. She heard their voices. “ Carajo! Give it to the bitch.”

Then came the voice of the prison doctor.

“She’s lost the baby.”

That was Charles’s baby. Tracy had changed forever that day. If Tomorrow Comes, she’d told herself, I’ll get my revenge.

Later there had been another baby, with Jeff. She’d lost that one too. And then came Nicholas. My Nicholas. My darling. My life. Nicholas had saved her. Did she love him so much because she’d lost the others?

Suddenly Tracy felt overwhelmed with rage. The fear was gone, but a wild, primitive fury took its place. Daniel Cooper was not going to rob her of her son! He was not going to rob her darling Nicholas his mother, or enact his sick fantasies on Jeff, the love of Tracy’s life. She was not going to let it happen, not while she still had breath in her body.

With a scream of fury, Tracy flung both arms behind her head. She could feel Cooper’s penis pressing against her, his hips bearing down on her like a lead weight. Scrabbling around in the dust, her fingers brushed against a loose rock. It wasn’t particularly large or heavy but it would have to do. With a strength she didn’t know she possessed, Tracy grabbed the stone and slammed it down with all her force into the back of Daniel Cooper’s skull.

Tracy heard a shriek of pain and felt his weight slide off her. But he wasn’t unconscious.

“You bitch!” he hissed. One hand shot out and grabbed her neck as she scrambled to her feet. He squeezed hard, crushing Tracy’s windpipe. She kicked out wildly in the darkness, barely able to breathe, completely disoriented. He seemed to have dropped the gun, but she knew if he got his other hand around her throat he would strangle her easily, just as he had strangled those other poor women. A stray kick caught him in the groin, provoking another animal screech. For a second he was knocked off balance and his fingers uncoiled from around Tracy’s neck.