Mary Nealy - Ten Plagues

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Join the breakneck chase through Chicago for a murderous maniac. As the victims begin piling up, detective Keren Collins’s spiritual discernment is on high alert. Will she capture the killer before another body floats to the surface? Ex-cop, now mission pastor Paul Morris has seen his share of tragedy, but nothing prepared him to be a murderer’s messenger boy. Will his old ruthless cop personality take over, leading him to the brink of self-destruction? Can Keren and Paul catch the killer before the corpse count reaches a perfect ten?

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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.

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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.

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Keren clapped the magnetic police light to the roof of her car as she drove back to the station.

“Isn’t that overkill, Collins?” O’Shea asked.

“I’m going to speed anyway.” She shrugged and added wryly, “This will save some uniform the bother of pulling me over and having me rage at him until he lets me go on my lawbreaking way.”

“You could just try obeying the law,” Paul said from the backseat.

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