Ted Dekker - The Bride Collector

Frank still didn’t understand exactly how Brad could be sure the sketch he’d delivered late in the afternoon was of the killer. It was, after all, based on a ghost. He’d put the highest priority on linking it with any known offenders in the photo identification system. The sketch was rough and would require manual comparisons, but it was the first hard lead they’d had since Nikki’s murder, and the team had dropped everything else.

“Nothing yet. We sent it out to the other agencies and every hospital in the state. We also have a forensic artist headed out to CWI this morning for another sketch.”

“What do we know about this girl? Besides the hogwash about her ability to see ghosts?”

“Not much. Brad was a little evasive.”

“So you’re telling me Brad’s fate now rests in the hands of some mental case?”

“He seemed to think she was pretty smart.”

“This can’t be the best we’ve got.” Temple shook his head. “This really can’t.”

IT WAS A beautiful day. The trees looked somehow greener, the birds chirped and darted as if they’d found a pot of coffee beans and eaten every one, the sun even seemed brighter. The eggs she was eating at this very minute tasted richer, sweeter, maybe the best food she’d ever tasted.

But Paradise knew that neither the trees nor the birds nor the eggs nor the sun had changed. She, on the other hand, had.

For starters, she’d become a bit of an overnight sensation. She might have imagined some of it, but nearly every eye had seemed to be on her when she’d walked into the dining room half an hour ago. There was no denying that many, if not most, of the residents knew she had become a very important person in the eyes of some very important people.

Roudy went out of his way to take credit whenever he could. It was he, after all, who’d demanded they bring the evidence to his team. And in the end, they would still need him to connect all the clues.

“Can’t you just be happy for her?” Andrea demanded.

“Of course I can. But there’s a killer on the loose! Have you no heart for all those poor girls?”

Hopeless.

Either way, Paradise had changed. She had seen. And she had been seen. A cloud had been lifted from her heart. The wool had been pulled from her eyes. Every cliché in the book had happened to her, all at once. In her dark world, the sun had come out as if for the very first time.

But only she and Allison knew why. It wasn’t because she’d become a sleuthing hero. It was because of Brad Raines. Or more precisely, because of what she and Brad had shared. Did share.

Because Brad had shattered the fear that had kept her mind in the shadows. Because she trusted Brad more than she trusted any other living soul, except maybe Angel and Allison, but Angel was her sister and Allison was like her mother.

Brad was a man.

There was something special between them. She wouldn’t go so far to say that he loved her, it was far too early for that. She knew that nothing could become of whatever it was he felt. After all, she was here at CWI and he was out there, in the world with all of its demons.

But she’d decided last night that she would do nothing to temper the way her heart felt in the wake of his departure. She’d gone to bed tossing and turning, with butterflies flying circles in her belly. And she’d woken with images of Brad whispering through her mind.

She wasn’t in love with him. That would be going way too far. But if this was what being in love felt like, it was no wonder so many people risked so much for it.

Andrea was staring at her, wearing a shy grin.

“What?”

Her friend nibbled at her toast. “I don’t know. Did you kiss him?”

“Andrea!” Paradise set her fork down and blushed. “Just because you lift your skirt for the first thing that comes along doesn’t mean everyone does.”

“I said kiss. You’ve never kissed a man, you said.”

“And I still haven’t.” How embarrassing was this? But her mouth was fighting a smile.

“You will, though.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! It’s not like that. Please, Andrea, you’re going to ruin everything.”

“You’re smiling!”

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. Jonathan leaned over and spoke softly. “There’s someone on the phone for you, Paradise. I thought you might want to take it.”

Normally they would take a message. Then she saw his smile and caught her breath. “A man?”

“It is.”

She jumped up. “I’ll… Send it to my room.”

Paradise took off, then whirled back and pointed at Andrea. “Stay.”

She sprinted down the hall, into the women’s wing, then up the stairs to her room just as the phone started to ring. She slammed the door and engaged the lock, approached the phone, heart pounding. Her hand was shaking when she lifted the receiver.

“Hello.”

A soft chuckle. “Hello, Paradise.”

She was so tuned in to Brad’s voice that it took her a moment to wonder if this was someone else.

“Brad?”

“No, not Brad. Brad’s all tied up. I have him here with me.”

Was this someone that Brad worked with? Something seemed odd about…

“I’m the one who killed Nikki,” the voice said. “And now I have your lover all tied up. I’m going to make him squeal like a pig and then I’m going to gut him if you don’t do exactly as I say.”

The phone was silent. She stood frozen in place, unable to breathe.

“Are you there, dear?”

She tried to say something but nothing was working.

“Don’t be afraid, Paradise. I need you to think clearly. I need you to save Brad. Can you do that?”

Her voice shook. “Yes.”

“Good. The first thing you’re going to do is keep your mouth shut. I can see you, your every move. I can hear everything that happens in that prison of yours. If you tell anyone, including that old nun, that you spoke to me, I will kill Mr. Raines. Do you understand?”

Her mind whirled with the worst possible scenarios. She was in the dark fog again and behind her came the monster, scrambling for her legs as she crawled. The bodies were on the ground, and she was crawling over them.

“Do you understand?”

It was real. She was on the phone talking to the man she’d seen. This was his voice; she recognized it now from when she’d touched the girl.

“Yes.”

“Are you listening? It’s important that you don’t panic. If you panic you’ll do something stupid and I’ll have to kill him. Okay?”

His voice wasn’t angry or sinister. Just calm and direct. But that only made it more frightening.

“Okay?”

“Yes,” she managed.

“In thirty minutes the gardener will climb into his red pickup truck and leave for an extended coffee break like he does every day. You will climb into the back of his truck, under the green tarp he uses to keep the rain off-”

“I can’t leave!”

The man paused patiently. “… off his tools,” he finished. “You don’t have to leave in the red truck, Paradise. But if you don’t, then Mr. Raines will be found dead, and it will be because you allowed him to die.”

“I…” Paradise began to panic. The room spun and she managed to steady herself by putting her left hand on the wall. Her voice came in a hoarse whisper. “I can’t leave.”

The man ignored her. “The red truck will drive into the city and stop at a Starbucks. When it does, you will get out without drawing attention, and you will walk due east one block until you see a shopping strip with a beauty salon. At the end there is a large green garbage bin. Under that bin you will find an envelope with money and a cell phone. Are you getting all of this?”