Cold Blooded

  Sarah was screaming behind the tape on her mouth now, her eyes round with panic. “Shhh…. I’m sure St. Bibiana will be a good penitent.” He hit one of the buttons on the remote control and Sarah squealed before sliding down the wall and collapsing into tears.

  “You merciless bastard,” Olivia charged, unable to hold her tongue. She felt stronger now, couldn’t pretend to be meek and weak. “How can you do all this in the name of God? This is blasphemy! Heresy. Sick, twisted tripe!”

  “Blasphemy?” He seemed amused.

  “You dress like a priest, you spout all kinds of religious quotes, you … you hang crosses with whips and you kill innocent women and boys, butcher them. These aren’t acts for God, they’re acts against Him.”

  “I save the sinners,” he said, a tic beginning near his eye.

  “You save them from nothing. Nothing. You’re so sick you’ve twisted it all around in your scrambled brain,” she said, wheeling to face him. “It’s an excuse. You like to kill. That’s it. You’re so sick you enjoy the pain and the power.” The tic was working overtime now and his lip twitched. “You’re a pathetic murdering coward, hiding in vestments you didn’t earn and somehow you try to justify your sickness.”

  “I speak with God.”

  “Bull.”

  The tic was pounding now. “I’m The Chosen One.”

  “You’re a lunatic.”

  “The Father speaks to me.” A twitch was moving his eyebrow and eyelid.

  “You’re a freak, that’s what you are!” Kristi cried.

  “Shh! Don’t!” Olivia warned. It was one thing for her to bait this monster, but she didn’t dare risk Kristi’s life.

  “Protective, are you?” he asked her and she didn’t speak, afraid for Kristi’s life. Warren’s smile returned, the tic slowed. “I expected some fight in you, sister, but obviously you are smarter than I thought. Now, turn around and look at the dogs….”

  She hesitated.

  The Chosen One—Warren—moved a step closer to Kristi.

  Quickly, Olivia did as she was told, but her mind was racing. No way would she allow herself to be filleted for some starving mutt’s meal. In the mirror, she saw him raise his whip. She braced herself.

  Crack!

  Pain ricocheted through her. Nine bites to her flesh. She flinched. Bit down so she wouldn’t cry out.

  “Don’t move!” he ordered.

  She caught his glare in one of the mirrors.

  His eyes thinned in anticipation. Again he snapped his wrist.

  The whip stung again. Scorching pain erupted on her back. She didn’t so much as wince and held his glare. In the mirror she saw the pink tip of his tongue as it ran over his lips. His gaze was fastened on her bare rump and red flesh. He was a sicko. A crazy. But maybe she could use that….

  Snap!

  Fire ripped through her. She sucked in air through her teeth. Tears sprang to her eyes. She had to stop this. She heard something. Footsteps? Her heart leapt at the thought, but it was crazy. The dogs were barking and turning toward the door. Warren looked over his shoulder but there was silence again. She couldn’t hope for outside help.

  It was up to her.

  She thought quickly. How? She couldn’t just turn and run at him. But … if she could endure the pain until the right moment, if, before she was exhausted from the flailing, she could summon the courage and energy to roll into a ball and somersault backward toward him while he had his weapon raised; she could knock him off his feet, grab the stun gun and aim it at him.

  Or he’d kill her.

  Well, he was going to do that one way or another.

  This was the only way. Their only chance. She had to try it. He would either kill her slowly by flailing her to death, try and feed her to the dogs or chain her up and leave her for another session. Either way she and Kristi and Sarah were doomed.

  Smack!

  The whip blistered her back like a million little knives. She jolted. Managed to stay on her feet.

  “Tough one, aren’t you? A true daughter of Reggie Benchet,” he snarled and in one mirror, Olivia caught Kristi’s eye.

  Look at me. Kristi! Look at me. We have to do this together.

  Kristi glanced to the mirror. The male dog whined and looked at the door. Olivia thought she heard something—

  Snap! The whip snaked. Pain exploded on Olivia’s back. Bright lights flashed behind her eyes. Her knees threatened to buckle. Don’t lose it, not now. But she didn’t have much time.

  Sutter was sweating, his erection protruding, his concentration on Olivia’s rump.

  Kristi nodded ever so slowly and Olivia gave a tiny nod back as he flipped his wrist again. Now! It has to be now! The whip sizzled through the air. It sliced into her back—burning. Olivia tucked, rolled backward and jerked upward in one swift motion. She grabbed hold of the whip.

  “You bitch!” Warren, startled, took a step backward, close enough to Kristi that the girl, ready, kicked hard and upward, landing a blow to his chest.

  Craaack, his ribs split.

  “You pathetic cunt!” he cried, whirling.

  The dogs bayed and footsteps pounded. Someone had found them!

  “Down here!” Olivia bellowed. “Help!” She pounced on Sutter, but he’d managed to aim the remote. Furious, he jabbed a button.

  Sheer agony sizzled down her spine. Her body arced crazily. Pain ripped through her body. Lights flashed, spangling her vision. Blindly she dug at him with her fingernails. He stumbled back another step. Kristi twisted, rounding to kick him hard in the groin.

  The Chosen One buckled, dropped his remote.

  The door flew open. James tumbled into the room. In one hand he held a fine whip edged in glass. His other arm was extended, fingers splayed in supplication. “Stop! Please.” His face was pale and chalk-white as if he’d seen a horrific specter.

  “What the hell?” The Chosen One was on his feet.

  “You must stop! Kristi! In the name of God, this has to come to an end!”

  “Help us!” Olivia screamed, then bucked as she was shocked again.

  Sutter had the stun gun! She fell to the floor, twisting her ankle as she looked into the gold eyes of the female dog. “Stay,” she ordered.

  The dog growled low in her throat and the male moved behind her. In a mirror she saw Warren, one arm wrapped around his broken ribs, the other holding the stun gun. “Father McClaren, put down my whip,” he ordered, but he was weakening. Spittle clung to his lip. “You made a grave mistake in coming here.”

  “Help us, Uncle James,” Kristi cried.

  “I will, honey.” He was walking forward slowly, his gaze steady on Warren though the dogs circled and snapped on their leashes. “I will. Please, you must stop this. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but it’s not God’s will. Release these women and repent. I will help you with the police and with the Church, but please, I beg of you, by all.that is holy—”

  Warren aimed the stun gun at James and pressed a finger. “What would you know of holiness, you sanctimonious bastard?” he snarled. He pressed a button. James yelped and fell to the floor.

  No! He had to be stopped! Pushing herself, Olivia sprang. Her twisted ankle throbbing, she flung herself at her brother and felt the electricity before she’d landed a blow to his face. The Chosen One staggered, stumbling backward. Kristi leaped onto his back. She wrapped her chain around his neck and pulled, screaming and crying, volts of electricity streaking down her body as he pressed the gun against her thigh. Flailing, Warren slammed Kristi into a wall, his hands scrabbling for another weapon. He came up with a crucifix—a black wrought iron cross with a pointed end. James climbed to his feet, swayed and rushed Warren.

  “Watch out!” Olivia screamed in horror. No—she staggered to her feet, threw herself toward the two men.

  But it was too late. James wobbled forward.

  “Noooooo!” Krisiti cried.

  The Chosen One’s hand slashed downward.

  Thud! The crucifi
x plunged deep into James’s chest.

  James jerked backward. Blood seeped around the weapon.

  “No, no, no!” Olivia cried, tears falling from her eyes as she struggled to crawl to reach James … not dear James … “Oh, God, oh, God …” She inched toward him, but it was too late. Blood appeared around his lips.

  “Forgive me, Father,” he whispered, then sank to his knees.

  Bentz heard the screams as he threw himself out of the Jeep before it stopped rolling. He was too late! Whatever horror the monster had planned it was happening. To Olivia. To Kristi. To everyone he loved.

  With Montoya on his heels and sirens screaming through the night around them, he rushed the building, his weapon drawn. He couldn’t lose them. Not now. Dear God, not now. His heart was pounding, his pulse thundering. Let them be alive, he silently prayed. And give me a clear shot. That’s all I need. Just one.

  Other officers were surrounding the building but he pushed open the door and found himself in a long hallway by a staircase, and ahead, through a door that was ajar, in the blood-red glow of the lights he looked into his own personal hell.

  “No!” Kristi screamed, yanking hard on the chain surrounding the prick’s neck. He’d killed Uncle James …. Oh, God … Sobbing, kicking, grief tearing her from the inside out, she wanted to kill the bastard. She would!

  All the years of hatred and confusion muddled in her mind as she saw the man who had sired her collapse on the floor. He couldn’t be dead. No! No! No! Not James! From the corner of her eye Kristi glimpsed Olivia pulling a sword off the wall. She was half-dead, too. Bleeding and raw, limping. As the creep aimed the stun gun at her again, Olivia rushed forward, swung and sliced his hand, sending the gun into the deep dirty straw.

  She drew back to swing at his head, but he twisted, rolling around so that Kristi, upon his back, was his shield. “Jump off!” Olivia ordered, the bloody sword still pointed at him. He backed up, using the mirror to try and skewer Kristi on the weapon. Kristi kicked all the harder. Olivia dropped the sword.

  Footsteps thundered. The door banged open. Bentz stood in the doorway. “Drop your weapons! Police!” Bentz, his Glock drawn, strode into the room. His eyes locked with hers. “Kristi, let go,” he yelled.

  “Daddy,” she said weakly and willingly gave up her grip to crumple into a heap and start to cry. He was here to save her—to save them!

  The Chosen One retrieved his stun gun and aimed it at Bentz.

  “Rick, watch out!” Olivia cried.

  Bentz fired.

  With a horrible yelp, The Chosen One fell just as the stun gun fired. Bentz jolted, then sprang forward, blasting more shots into the crumpling man.

  “Daddy … oh, Daddy …” In a heartbeat Bentz crossed the room, sweeping her off the dirty floor and holding onto her as if his life depended upon it. She buried her face in his neck and sobbed brokenly. “Uncle James… he’s dead,” she said and grief tore at her. The man she’d rejected. The uncle who had adored her. The man who had given her life and she’d been petty and mean to him. When all he’d tried to do was love her. She thought of the gifts he’d showered upon her, the kindness and patience and … and how, in the end, she’d rejected him, slamming down the phone the last time he’d called. And now … and now … she squeezed her eyes shut but that horrible moment when The Chosen One had slammed the cross into James’s chest burned through her brain. Shaking violently, Kristi clung to Bentz as if she’d never let go.

  And Bentz wouldn’t let her. He held onto her and screamed orders, felt the wash of warm tears run down the back of his neck as other officers poured into the room. Olivia—she looked like she’d survive, but James … Bentz stared in horror at his brother and the horrid cross imbedded in his chest. He crawled to James while still holding Kristi. “James! Can you hear me?” he demanded, instantly on his knees.

  Flashlights bobbed. The dogs growled. Policemen barked orders. Some rounded up the dogs, others searched the premises while still others checked the wounded.

  “Get the keys off him,” Bentz ordered, pointing his sidearm at the killer. “And get an EMT in here. Now!”

  A policewoman dropped to James’s side. “Hold on, Father,” she said softly.

  Montoya, after checking for Sutter’s pulse, slid his fingers into the monster’s pockets. He found a set of keys and threw them at Bentz. “I’ll get you out of here,” Bentz promised as he unlocked Kristi’s chains and felt a rage as hot as all of hell’s fires burn deep within him as he glanced at this fetid, brutal room.

  Then his eyes locked with Olivia’s as she sat crumpled in a corner. She was propped against one wall, breathing hard, naked but for some kind of dog collar and shivering. Scrapes and bruises covered her face and arms. Damn the bastard.

  Kristi whimpered as her chains fell away.

  “Shh … honey … it’ll be okay. I promise …” he said, knowing he lied as he made his way to Olivia. Still holding his child, he knelt and found a key that unlocked the collar surrounding her throat. “Are you all right?”

  “No … yes …” She was crying too, tears glistening red from the weird light as they streaked down her face. Juggling Kristi, Bentz took off his jacket and draped it over Olivia’s shoulders. She flinched before he saw the red welts … deep cuts slicing across her back.

  “That son of a bitch.”

  “It’s all right,” she said, her chin quivering. “I’ll be okay.”

  “I’d like to kill him all over again.” He slid a finger along her jaw and swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry—”

  She grabbed his fingers. “Later … now … James …” she said brokenly as an officer approached and offered a blanket which Bentz swaddled around his daughter.

  Kristi sobbed as Bentz looked back at his brother where the policewoman was still working over him. But James was quivering and shaking, his face white as death.

  “Shit…” Carrying Kristi, Bentz dived to the other side of the room. “James … no…” He fell to one knee. “Hang in there,” he said to his brother and yelled, “Where the hell are the EMTs?” He placed a hand on James’s shoulder. “You’re gonna be all right, James, you got that? You’re gonna be fine.”

  Barely conscious, James rolled glazed eyes at Bentz. A crucifix was buried deep in his chest, blood stained his pale lips. Bentz wanted to throw up.

  “No … It’s too late …” James’s breathing was ragged and slow, blood spreading across his shirt. With an odd, peaceful smile, he rasped, “No doctor, Rick. I need a priest.”

  “No, don’t talk that way!” Bentz swivelled his head in Montoya’s direction. “Where’s the damned ambulance?”

  “It’s here.”

  “Forgive me, Rick. I wronged you,” James forced out, his voice a wheeze, a horrid rattle deep in his lungs. Then his gaze moved to Kristi. “And you, too … I… I… love you. So much.”

  His eyes seemed to glaze and Bentz felt as if a thousand fingernails were scraping the inside of his soul. Images of James as a young adoring pup, the kid who always tagged after him flashed through Bentz’s mind. They’d spent so many hours while growing up talking of baseball and hunting and girls. His throat clogged. “There’s nothing to forgive, James, and you’re going to be fine.”

  “But Jennifer—”

  “Ancient history. And I’ve got … we’ve got Kristi.” Without James’s betrayal, Bentz wouldn’t have a daughter.

  “Please … please don’t die, Uncle James,” Kristi said and a tiny, faltering smile curved James’s lips. “Daddy!”

  “God is calling me.”

  “Not yet! Fight, James!” Rick ordered, cradling his brother’s head, feeling James’s silky hair against his palms. “Fight, damn it! We need you. I need you. Kristi needs you! Don’t give up, do you hear me!”

  Kristi was sobbing and James’s eyes closed slowly.

  “I—can’t!” he rasped, his chest rattling.

  “Don’t you give up! James! James! Damn it, don’t you give up!” Bentz swung his h
ead toward the rest of the room. “Get an EMT over here! Now!” Bentz bellowed, his eyes moist as one of the dogs snapped and yipped while an officer forced it into a cage.

  He couldn’t lose James. Not this way. Not at the hands of a serial murderer whom Bentz should have put away. There was so much to say, to do, so many fences to mend

  Half a dozen emergency workers lugging equipment, jogged into the room. Shouting orders, they split up to attend the fallen.

  “Holy shit,” one whispered as he reached James.

  “Over here, this one’s traumatized, maybe worse!” Another EMT was already with the woman chained to the wall.

  “Sarah!” Olivia cried, but her friend didn’t respond.

  “I’ll take care of her!” a young policeman threw over his shoulder as he unlatched Sarah’s bonds and pulled the tape from her mouth.

  “This one’s dead.” A third was leaning over Warren Sutter where bullet holes riddled his alb and the pure white cloth was now stained a dark, oozing red. Bentz glanced at the man as an EMT ordered him aside and started working over James. “Out of the way. Christ, I need some help here … we’re losing this guy!”

  “No,” Olivia cried. She’d managed to get to her feet and stumble across the room. Her fingers clasped a department-issued blanket around her body. “No—James!” she whispered and fell to the floor. “Please … please …” Tears rained from her eyes as she touched James’s limp hand.

  Bentz’s guts twisted as James’s eyes fluttered open, just barely. “Be good to Rick. He’s a good man … you deserve someone who … who can love you … totally.” Olivia was crying openly now. “And Bentz … he … he needs … a strong woman … you.” James’s voice cracked, then faded. Kristi sent up a wail that echoed hollowly through the dank, dark chamber.

  Tears streamed from Bentz’s eyes. It was too late. “Oh, Daddy, he can’t be—”

  But the EMT shook his head and Bentz ached inside, guilt and anger roiling deep within. “It’s over, honey,” he whispered, fighting a losing battle with tears as he held his daughter. James’s daughter. Their daughter.