He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
She didn’t feel righteous, either, but she wasn’t finished trying.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
This was the valley of the shadow of death—it always had been for her. Now she tried to imagine walking into this valley with that rod and staff as her only weapons—and found confidence that they would be enough.
Armed with new courage, she got out of the car and slammed the door, not even caring if Bill heard her. She wanted him to see her, wanted him to forget whatever he was doing and come out to confront her. That might give Jimmy a window of opportunity to escape with Lisa.
As she entered the compound, she saw a cluster of crying children standing in front of one of the cottages, huddled together. The Buick that had tried to run her off the road days ago was parked in front of the door with the driver’s door open. Across the compound, she saw Stella hurrying into a shed. The big woman backed a van out of it, and sped through the yard and away.
Beth approached the kids. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Bill’s gonna kill them!” one of the children cried. “We heard a gunshot, but Bill’s still in there yelling. He must have shot Jimmy or Lisa or Brad!”
Beth thought she might faint, but she forced herself through it. “Are there any other adults on the campus?”
“There were, but they all left!”
“Go over to the rec room,” she ordered. “Get down on the floor and don’t come out until I tell you. Do you hear me?”
She watched as they fled to the building across the campus.
Taking a deep breath, she tested the knob, then opened it. “Your rod and your staff, they comfort me,” she muttered under her breath as she stepped inside.
She heard voices in the back room. Taking a deep breath, she held it for a moment, marshaling her courage and steadiness of mind. This was it. Then she yelled: “Bill Brandon!”
The voices stopped. “That’s right,” she called. “It’s me. Beth Sullivan. You wanted me dead. Well, now’s your chance.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
The moment he had heard the gunshot, Larry had called Tony, explaining even as he pounded down the stairs and out the door what he’d heard. As he rushed across the street and toward the home, he said, “What the—Tony, you’re not going to believe this.”
“What!” Tony prompted.
“Beth. She’s heading onto the compound—too far away for me to stop. Her car’s out front here. Looks like she’s heading for a group of children.”
“What’s she thinking of? If Brandon finds her, he’ll kill her—he’s already tried it twice.”
“I’m right behind her,” Larry said into the cell phone. “Send me some backups.”
He tucked the phone into his belt pouch as the children fled to the rec room. As he rounded the corner, he could see Beth heading into the cottage where a Buick was parked out front. He pulled his gun out of his shoulder holster. Praying under his breath, he ran in a crouch the remaining distance to the cottage, went to the window, and looked through. Bill stood with a pistol pointed at three children—Jimmy and two others. The little girl had to be Lisa. The gunshot he’d heard hadn’t wounded any of these people, apparently.
He heard Beth call out. Bill swung around . . .
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Bill stepped slowly into the hallway, grinning at Beth. Then he motioned with the gun in his hand—her own gun, Beth realized—and Jimmy and two other children stepped out into the hallway with him, huddled together. Beth choked back her fear. “Let them go, Bill,” she said. “Let it be just you and me, face-to-face.”
He chuckled. “Well, well. Been a long time, darlin’. How are you?”
“Better than you expected,” she said. “I’m just fine.”
“Well, it was nice of you to drop in tonight. You missed the party, though. It was a good one. Made me some friends, I’ll wager. You can never have too many friends in the media.”
“Let them go, Bill,” she said again. “You don’t need them.”
“Oh, I need them, all right,” he said, slowly herding the children down the hallway toward her. “And as much as I’d like to finish the job I started a couple of days ago, I need you. I’m not stupid. I know the cops have been trying to get a warrant. I know that as soon as they do, they’ll be out here to arrest me. But I won’t be here. And neither will you. We’re gonna be taking a little trip. I’ll take all of you along for insurance.”
“Just me,” she said. “Let them go and take me.”
“Let them go?” He threw his head back and laughed. “Beth, Beth, you know better than that.” He was almost within arm’s reach now. Could she grab the gun? No, too dangerous. If it went off and hit one of the kids . . .
“There are too many of us,” she said. “We’ll be too conspicuous. If it’s just me . . .”
“Just you and me, Beth? Think about it. They’d shoot us as soon as look at us. You’re nothing but trash, and you don’t have family that’ll sue them later. They’d be safe taking risks with a hostage like you. But with these cute little kids, they wouldn’t dare take a chance, or they’d have the whole country coming down on them the minute they pulled the trigger. No, the kids are my ticket out of here.”
“Where will you go?” she asked through her teeth. “Somewhere to ruin more lives? Are you going to keep killing everybody who gets in your way?”
“I might,” he said with a grin. He grabbed her hair by the roots, and swung her back toward the door. “But right now, I need to keep you alive.” He scowled at the three children huddled together. “Come on, kids. Into the car. All of you.”
Jimmy held his sister close to him; tears ran down both their cheeks. “Beth, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken your gun. Now he’s got it and—”
“It’s okay, Jimmy,” she said, her face reddening with pain as he jerked her by her hair. “Just do what he says.”
Bill kept the gun trained on them as the children climbed into the backseat of the car. He shoved Beth into the passenger seat and said, “Scoot over. You’ll do the driving.”
He was just about to climb in after her when a voice cut through the night: “Freeze!”
Bill froze, then slowly turned to see Larry with his gun trained on him.
“Drop the gun and get down on the ground!”
Bill leaned down slowly, the gun still in his hand. His arm swung out, apparently to toss the gun, but instead he raised the pistol and pulled the trigger.
The children screamed as Larry dropped to the ground.
Bill dove into the car. “Let’s go!” he told Beth. “Turn that key and get us out of here! Move!”
“You killed him!” she cried as she cranked the car and pulled across the lawn. “You killed him!”
“Yeah, and you’re next! Now shut up!”
The children tried to muffle their sobs of horror as Beth tore down the dark street.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“We’re just gonna drive,” he said. “Until I get far enough away that I don’t need you anymore.”
“And then what?”
“Then I’ll find a bridge to throw you over. Every last one of you.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Tracy was nearly to the children’s home when she was overcome with dizziness. She pulled the car to the side of the road and tried to gather what little strength she had left. She was almost there. She had to make it.
Just when her head seemed a little clearer, a coughing fit hit her. It was getting harder to breathe. Her lungs felt heavy and full of fluid, as if they didn’t have room for anything as mundane as oxygen.
She was still struggling to catch her breath when she saw a car race across the children’s home lawn and shoot the curb onto the street.
The car sped toward her, and as it pass
ed under a streetlight she saw Jimmy sitting in the backseat with a little girl next to him.
A little girl! Was it Lisa? Tracy sucked a huge gulp of air, despite the pain. Her kids were in danger. She was their mother; it was her job to stop him. Ignoring her weakness, she shoved her car into a tight U-turn, tires squealing, and followed the other car until she’d caught up with it. Then, stepping on her accelerator, she pulled up beside them and tried to pass.
The other car began to zigzag, to keep her from staying on the road next to it. But she wouldn’t give up. Tears streamed down her face as she urged the old rattletrap ahead and, finally, almost through sheer force of will, she inched ahead of them. This was it, she told herself. Her last chance to do something for her children. Something important. Something that mattered. It was her last chance to show her children she loved them.
She cranked the wheel as hard as she could, throwing her car into a power turn, spinning out of control just a few feet in front of the other car.
Tracy felt the impact of the collision almost immediately, heard the crunching metal. She only hoped Jimmy and Lisa were wearing their seatbelts. Her car had none, nothing to hold her in, and the last thing she was aware of before she lost consciousness was the sensation of being thrown out of the car into the night air.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
There was a moment of shocked silence just after the two mangled cars ground to a halt. Then the inside of the Buick erupted in frightened screams. But the loudest was Jimmy’s—because he had seen, behind the wheel of the rusty old car that had passed them and then pulled spinning in front of them, the face of his mother.
With no regard for Bill or any further danger, Jimmy bolted from the Buick and ran to the other car, which now lay on its side. But there was no one in that car. He looked up then, frantic—and saw his mother, several yards ahead, lying motionless on the concrete like a discarded rag doll. “Mom!” he yelled through his tears. “Mom!” He fell down beside her, wailing at the sight of the blood oozing from her nose and mouth.
But she opened her eyes slowly and looked up at him. “Run!” she whispered. “Take your sister and run!”
Jimmy was crying so hard he could barely speak. “Why did you do it?” he asked. “Why?”
“Because I . . . love you,” she whispered. “Run, Jimmy! Please run . . .” Her voice trailed off, and Jimmy watched her eyes go dead and empty.
He wanted to stay with her, but her words echoed in his mind: Take your sister and run. He looked back toward the car. Lisa and Brad had gotten out, too. Bill had hit his head, and was holding it with one hand as he tried to crank the car with the other. Jimmy couldn’t see Beth.
Jimmy ran to his sister and took her hand. “Come on, Brad,” he whispered. “Let’s hide in the woods.”
He pulled Lisa after him, and Brad followed in a painful, stumbling run. Then he heard a yell. Looking back over his shoulder, Jimmy felt a surge of panic as he saw Bill throw open the car door and leap out. But with Bill’s first step toward them, Beth dove from the car, landing on Bill’s back, and wrestled him to the ground.
“Come on!” Jimmy urged, and pulled Lisa toward the safety of the trees.
It only took Bill a moment to regain his equilibrium, throw Beth off of him, and get the upper hand, but by then, the children were gone.
He grabbed her by the throat and lifted her to her feet. “Back in the car,” he said through gritted teeth.
He threw her in on the driver’s side, then pushed her across to the passenger seat. She gasped in pain as she moved, and he saw blood seeping onto her blouse from some wound he couldn’t see on her chest. He jumped in beside her, cranked the car, and it started. He’d noticed some significant damage to the front of the car, but it looked driveable.
“Are you just going to leave her on the road?” Beth screamed.
“Shut up!” he shouted, bringing his fist hard across her jaw. “Don’t say another word or it’ll be the last thing you’ll say!”
Furious, he drove around the wrecked car and the body lying in the street, and flew as fast as he could out of the area.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
Jimmy urged Lisa and Brad through the woods at a run, trying to make it to the road on the other side where they might find help. Maybe a police car would come by, and they could flag it down.
Not long ago, Jimmy realized suddenly, a policeman would have been the last person he would have turned to when he was in trouble. For that matter, he wouldn’t have trusted any other adults, either. But since then, he’d learned something: Adults weren’t all bad. Beth had come here tonight, despite her fears of Bill, for the sole purpose of rescuing the children. And then there was his mother. A lump rose in his throat again, and he swallowed it down.
He still didn’t understand why she had done it. She had already proven she didn’t care about them. She had let the state take them and dump them somewhere. Why come back now, sick and weak, and risk her life to stop Bill from taking them away?
It didn’t make sense. But it changed things, somehow.
“Why are you crying?” Lisa asked him breathlessly as they fought the vines and bushes in their way. “Aren’t you happy we got away?”
Jimmy wiped his face. “Yeah, I’m happy. I was just thinking about the cop and that lady in the street.” He couldn’t tell her the lady had been her mother. Not yet. Maybe someday.
Brad was panting and wheezing, and Jimmy wondered if he was going to make it through the woods. He needed to get Brad to a hospital; they couldn’t just hide someplace. Somehow, he needed to find help. Besides, they had to get help for Beth. They were the only ones who knew that Bill had taken her.
And he had to get help for all those children back at the home, who wouldn’t know what to do or what was going to happen to them next.
The trees thinned, and suddenly they came to the road. Not far away was a gas station with a convenience store attached. Jimmy reached into his pocket for the change that Jake had let him keep when they’d gone for a Coke earlier. He fished out a quarter. “Come on, let’s go call for help.”
“Who are we gonna call?” Lisa asked.
He thought about it for a moment. “Jake,” he said. “We’ll call Jake.”
Lynda answered on the first ring. “Lynda Barrett,” she said.
“Lynda, it’s me. Jimmy.”
“Jimmy! Where are you? We’ve been worried sick—”
Jimmy cleared the emotion from his throat and tried to speak clearly. “I need to speak to Jake,” he said.
“Oh . . . okay.” Lynda gave the phone to Jake.
“Jimmy, are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m okay,” he said. “But Bill’s got Beth.”
“What do you mean he’s got Beth? Beth’s here,” Jake said. “She’s asleep in the guest room.”
“No. She came here. Bill’s got her in a car, and he’s taking her away. I think he’s gonna kill her! Jake, you’ve got to stop him!”
“Jimmy, where are you?”
Jimmy was crying again. He stopped and wiped his eyes. “At the gas station about a mile from the home. I think it’s called Quik Stop. It’s on—” He checked the street signs near the phone booth. “The corner of Jefferson and Third Street.”
“Jimmy, we’re coming after you. You stay there. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“No! Don’t worry about us! Lisa and Brad and me will be okay. You gotta worry about Beth. He’ll kill her. And there’s something else.”
“Yeah? What?”
“My . . . my . . .” Jimmy lowered his voice to keep Brad or Lisa from hearing.
“What? I can’t hear you.”
“My m—” He choked on the word, then tried again. “Tracy.
She needs an ambulance. And so does that cop—Larry, I think it was. He was shot.”
“Shot? Are you sure?”
“Hurry, Jake! They may not be dead yet.”
“But Tracy’s in the hospital, Jimmy. You’re confused?
??”
“No!” he shouted. “She came here, too. We’d still be in the car with Bill if she hadn’t. But first he shot Larry, and then he ran over her, and she’s lying in the road . . .” His voice broke off, and he couldn’t go on.
“Jimmy, stay right where you are. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Jake drove faster than he’d ever driven in his life. In the passenger seat, Lynda was on the cellular phone, trying to locate Tony or Nick. She heard sirens, but they were coming from the opposite direction.
She found Nick in his office. “Nick, it’s Lynda.”
“Hi. I’ve been working on what to do with all the children. It’s not going to be easy, but I think—”
“Nick, listen to me,” Lynda said. “Jimmy just called.”
“Oh, that’s great! You’ve found him?”
“Yes. He went to the home, and something went wrong. We’re headed to get him. He says that Bill’s got Beth.”
She heard something crash on Nick’s end. “He can’t. She’s at your house! She was asleep—”
“No, she snuck out to go to the home to rescue the children. But apparently it backfired, and he’s got her now.”
“Oh, no.”
“Nick, you’ve got to—” Her voice stopped as Jake slammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt. Lynda dropped the phone and looked through the windshield.
The headlights shone on something in the road, and Jake whispered, “Oh, God, please don’t let this be.”
“Tracy,” Lynda whispered.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
The police radio report of an officer down at the St. Clair Children’s Home stunned Tony, but before he could call in to ask for details, his cellular phone rang. He grabbed it as he turned a corner on two wheels, on his way to SCCH. “Larry?” he asked.
“No, Tony, it’s Lynda!” She was choked and could hardly speak. “I’m sitting on Tenth about a mile from the children’s home. Tracy Westin is lying in the middle of the road—she was thrown from her car. I checked her pulse, but there isn’t one—she’s dead, Tony. Bill Brandon ran her down. And Jimmy said he shot Larry!”