Predator (15 page)

D
avid’s hands were shaking as he sat over coffee with Megan Quinn in Rice Coffeehouse, on the university campus. Upbeat pop music played over the sound system, and the voices of students around them were out of sync with his dark mood.

Megan seemed nervous and kept looking around, probably searching for the man who’d attacked her. Her face looked terrible, purple bruises attesting to how close she’d come to death. Her crutches leaned against her booth, and she kept her hand on one of them, as if to use it as a weapon if she needed it. David could see that her torture hadn’t yet ended.

“The police haven’t found the guy yet,” he said. “And that’s just not acceptable. He’s still out there, and we have to stop him.”

“I agree,” Megan said. “But what can we do?”

“I’m going to find him myself. So I need as clear a description as you gave the police. Every detail you can think of. I know you said he was about five foot ten and had dark hair. But I need more. When you first saw him, before you were afraid of him, what did you see? What made you trust him?”

She sighed, and veins in her forehead bulged, as if the very act of thinking about him caused her blood pressure to spike. “He didn’t look like a killer. He looked like a clean-cut, decent person when I first saw him. He had on a long raincoat. His smile seemed…pleasant.”

“Did you notice the color of his eyes?”

“No, it was kind of dark.”

“So his hair. You said it was brown. Dark brown, light brown…?”

“Dark.”

“Did you see the color of his shirt?”

She frowned. “How will that help you find him?”

“If he’s someone I know, I might recognize the shirt. Maybe if it was someone Ella knew, that’s why she got in his car.”

“Oh.” She looked off into the distance. “I think his shirt was white.”

That wasn’t helpful. He tried something else. “What about his face? Did he have bags under his eyes? Dark circles?”

“I couldn’t see that clearly,” she said.

“Was his nose big or small?”

“Long,” she said. “His lips were kind of thick.”

An immediate image popped into his mind. Ron Luzzo at his church had thick lips and a long nose. He was about five-ten and had brown hair.

Ron Luzzo. He was an insurance salesman. He’d watched Ella grow up and had running jokes with her, hugs and high fives. Could he have been her killer?

“What kind of accent did he have? Was it Texan?”

“A little, but not heavy. His voice was deep. Authoritative.”

He wasn’t sure if Ron Luzzo had that kind of voice, but then, he didn’t have a young girl’s perspective.

“I know someone that could be,” he said. “I’ll try to get a picture of him and show it to you.”

She looked hopeful. “You can send it to my phone.”

“All right.” He would see him at church tonight. If he sent it to her from his phone, he could have an answer from her right away. If it was him, he’d make sure the man didn’t get away. He’d inflict instant justice.

He took Megan back to her dorm, dropped her off at the door, and watched her crutch her way in. For a moment he sat there, wondering how many bones in Ella’s body had been broken before he’d thrown her into her grave. How many stitches would she have needed if they’d patched her back up?

His mouth went dry, and he couldn’t swallow.

Did he almost have her killer? His stomach roiled as he started his car. Instead of going home, he went to Ron’s insurance agency and parked at the business next door, facing the man’s building. He located Ron’s blue Mercedes in the parking lot and kept his eye on it. Soon the workday would end, and Ron would come out. When he did, he would follow him. Ron would probably go straight to church, since it was Wednesday.

It was the first time in his life David thought of his church’s sanctuary as a place where evil lurked. But tonight
it did. And he was going to expel it if it was the last thing he did.

He didn’t want to make another mistake like he had with Krebbs. He had to take it easy, make sure. But if he did…and if Luzzo was the one who’d murdered Ella…then David would kill him.

And then he’d kill himself.

D
avid got to church early that night and sat on the back row of the small sanctuary. Ron would be there. He never missed.

He tapped his foot, nervous about seeing him. As people came in and slid into the pews, several of them spoke to him. David nodded but said little, not wanting pity or condolences, and certainly not interested in small talk. A few of the women came over and hugged him, but thankfully most of them left him alone.

He saw Ron walk in on the other side of the sanctuary just as the music was starting. He took a seat with his wife, who was already there, midway up. As they stood to sing their first worship song, David went down the empty back row, to the other side of the auditorium, and took his seat where he could photograph Ron with his phone when church was over and Ron came out.

The praise chorus swelled over the church, setting the mood and tone for tonight’s worship. But David couldn’t worship. Instead, he kept his eyes on the back of Ron Luzzo’s brown hair.

Someone slipped into the pew at the other end of his row, and he glanced over. Krista and a man were coming to sit with him.

Krista moved close to him. “Dad,” she whispered, “this is Ryan Adkins, of GrapeVyne.”

“GrapeVyne?” David asked, shooting him a look. “What is
he
doing here?”

“Be nice,” she said.

Ryan reached around her to shake his hand. David reluctantly shook it.

As Krista sang with the others, David stood stiff, wondering what in the world she was doing bringing that GrapeVyne tycoon to church? Sure, he probably needed it, given the evil his company was doing. But why did he have to come with Krista?

He glanced at Adkins again, wondering if he was up to something. Was he taking advantage of Krista while she was vulnerable? What did he want with her, this boy millionaire who’d created the network that cost Ella her life?

David’s eyes strayed back to Ron Luzzo. He’d bent over to pick up his three-year-old grandchild. He watched the man kiss the little girl’s cheek. As he saw Ron’s profile, he looked for scratches or cuts that would indicate he’d been in a fight. There was nothing, but of course there wouldn’t be. He’d had weeks to heal. But as Ron’s hand came up to sweep his granddaughter’s hair out of her eyes, David saw a scar on the back of his hand.

Murderous hatred erupted inside David. He wanted to kill him, right here, right now. It would be justifiable homicide.

But no, he couldn’t attack again. He had to control himself…and think. He needed a picture of him to email to Megan. She could confirm it, and then he could decide what to do.

He felt Krista shift beside him, and he glanced at his firstborn. Tears welled in her eyes as she sang praises to God. No, he couldn’t follow his gut and attack Ron here, and turn her place of worship into a house of blood. Why take that from her too?

He’d do it somewhere else.

His temples throbbed as he sat through the sermon, counting minutes until he could capture Ron Luzzo’s image and send it to Megan.

Krista felt the warmth of Ryan’s arm next to hers. He was singing the hymn without looking at the book, and he had a nice voice, deep and on pitch. She wouldn’t have expected that of him.

She struggled with the tears in her eyes as she forced herself to sing the words.

“A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing…”

She sang the words as though she believed them, as though she could find shelter and protection and peace in that fortress, as though nothing bad could ever happen under the watch-care of her Lord. But something terrible
had
happened. That fortress hadn’t protected Ella. It hadn’t protected their mother. It wasn’t comforting her dad. How could she sing these words as if she believed them?

But she couldn’t let go of her faith, could she? Not when her whole life centered around it. Her job was all about that. She taught others to trust in that fortress. She had memorized and taught large blocks of scripture, reminding the girls daily of God’s holy protection.

Where were you, God, when Ella was screaming?

But she kept singing, holding back the tears, doing all the right things at all the right times, keeping that facade of faith and courage, inspiring others to be what she was not.

Ryan touched her hand. She looked at him, and he whispered, “Are you okay?”

She nodded and kept singing. As they hit the second verse, he sang louder, as if the Holy Spirit reminded him where he belonged.

She couldn’t let him know of her doubts and her failures in faith, not when he was responding. She couldn’t let anyone know. She was supposed to be a model Christian, a role model for young, at-risk girls. What kind of role model would she be if they knew how angry she was? If they knew her rage? If they knew the questions burning through her chest…demanding answers.

Relief washed over her when the song came to an end. She sat down and focused on pulling back her tears.

When finally the service was over, David put his phone in camera mode and held it out in front of him, waiting to snap the picture.

Krista noticed. “Dad, are you all right?”

He watched Ron as he leaned over to talk to his granddaughter again, then kissed his daughter’s cheek. Ron turned back to say something to his wife, and they both laughed.

David looked at Ron’s other hand. There were two more scars, on two of his fingers.

“Dad?”

He looked at Krista, irritated. “What?”

“I said we’d see you at home. Ryan is coming over because we’re going on the
Today Show
tomorrow morning…”

Ron was coming out of his pew, falling in behind the others exiting the room. He spoke to someone in front of him. More laughter.

“Dad?”

“Later, Krista.”

She stared at him for a moment, then gave up and went the other way out of the pew.

Several people spoke to David as they passed, but he didn’t answer. As Ron came toward him, he focused the phone on his face. When he was close enough to get a clear picture, he snapped it, then flipped his phone shut.

As Ron approached David, his cheeky smile faded, and a serious look came to his eyes as he reached out to shake his hand. “Good to see you back, David. I’ve been praying for you.”

David didn’t take his hand. Instead, he turned and went the other way. He walked out to his car without responding to anyone, got in, and scanned the parking lot for Ron’s Mercedes. As he waited for Ron to come out of the church, he emailed the picture to Megan.

Sweat beads broke out on David’s lip as Ron got into his car. David started his car and waited for Ron to pull out of his space. He pulled out of his own and followed, with three cars between them. After a couple of miles, Ron pulled in at a McDonald’s. His wife pulled in next to him, and they both went in.

David parked near them and watched. If he heard from Megan before Ron came back out, he’d have the opportunity then to do what he needed to do.

Suddenly, his phone chimed, and he looked down to see a text from Megan.

That’s not him. Sorry, Mr. Carmichael.

The wind whooshed out of him. He wrote back,

Are you sure?

She returned,

Yes. Positive.

As his eyes filled with angry tears, he saw Ron coming out with his wife and a bag of food. Ron kissed his wife as he got into his car.

David leaned his head back against his headrest. He could have killed him, the wrong man. Again. He was losing it. Dropping his face into the circle of his arms, he wept.

It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him.

So who was it? Why couldn’t the police find him?

Was Ella’s killer going to get away with that vile, vicious act? Was he going to kill more girls?

David had never wanted to die more than he did at that moment. But he had to find the killer first. He might be the next victim’s only hope.

K
rista was quiet on the drive back to her house.

“Church was nice,” Ryan said. “It’s been a long time.”

She forced a smile. “I love my church.”

“Maybe I’ll go again sometime.”

She wondered if she should encourage him to keep coming with her. He clearly needed church, but being there with him made her feel too close to him, and that wasn’t good. The last thing she needed was to get involved with someone who didn’t share her Christian goals or passions. “Why’d you quit going in the first place?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess when I went to college, I stayed up too late, couldn’t get up in the morning. Just never tried.”

“Didn’t you miss it? Didn’t you want to worship?”

“Sometimes, when I thought about it. But mostly I didn’t think about it. It’s pretty typical of college kids, I guess, when your parents aren’t there to make you go. Did you live at home during college?”

The question made her bristle. “Yes, but that’s not why I kept going. I went because I believed. Because I needed that renewal each week. I needed the fellowship. I wanted to show God my honor and gratitude.” She knew her words weren’t winsome. Her tone wouldn’t make him say, “I want what she has.” Instead it was biting. “And just for the record, I lived at home during college because I was helping raise my little sister. She needed me.”

Her voice choked off, and she felt Ryan’s soft eyes on her.

“I didn’t mean that there was anything wrong with you living at home. I knew why you did.”

She couldn’t speak. As she drove, she fought back the tears that had ambushed her in church, those tears that she didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“Those girls who were there,” he said, “the ones from your ministry. They sure look up to you.”

Again, she didn’t know what to say. Several of the girls had stopped her on the way out, and she’d introduced them to Ryan. Her mind strayed back to the traitorous thoughts she’d had in church. If those girls knew her thoughts, they wouldn’t look up to her anymore. They would see her as someone like them, someone who was wrestling with God, someone who could barely hold herself together.

They would see that the woman who constantly told them to be strong and courageous was, herself, weak and cowardly. They’d know that she feared constantly for her own life and the lives of others.

“Do a lot of them come to church?”

She cleared her tight throat. “Carla brings whoever shows up at the center before she leaves for church. Sometimes there’s a handful; sometimes they fill a whole van.”

“That’s nice, that you help people all day long. That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?”

She couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind. “What
what’s
all about?”

“Life. Christianity, I guess.”

As she stopped at a red light, she met his eyes. “Yes, that’s what it’s all about. Helping others. Giving them what you have to give.”

She didn’t know how much she had left to give. If she couldn’t give them hope…if she couldn’t offer them security…

“Maybe it’s time for me to step out and start helping people too,” he said softly. “Meeting you…going to church…it felt good. When I was growing up in youth group, going to Christian camps, I thought I’d help people. I thought I’d care more.”

“It’s not too late,” she said.

“No, I guess it isn’t.”

Ryan was quiet as she drove the rest of the way to her house, where he’d left his car. He couldn’t explain the feelings that had been revived in him as he’d sat in that church, singing those songs, listening to the old familiar scriptures that his mother had taught him as a kid.

Krista was so much more than a first glance would indicate. Her devotion to God and to needy people was real, and her work made his look like play. She was willing to get her hands dirty. Maybe he should be more willing too.

But the grief behind her eyes got to him. He’d seen how
uncomfortable she seemed in church, how tears burst into her eyes, then vanished without falling. He’d seen how the songs had made her face harder and her shoulders stiffer. He’d seen the complicated dynamics between her and her dad, how she was invisible to him…or close to it.

It wasn’t the right time to get involved with her. But he didn’t think he could help himself. He liked being with her, even when she gently brooded, even when she wasn’t talking. Her very presence was like a tug on his soul, back into step with the God he’d abandoned.

But there was something uncomfortable and unsafe about that. Something that stirred fear in his heart. If he went back to his Christian roots, started back to church, worshipped God, what would be required of him? Did he even want to make the commitment to God, only to abandon it again?

He honestly didn’t know.

Maybe it was just his firing and this point of uncertainty in his life that were giving him thoughts like this. Maybe it was his desire to be with Krista. Or maybe he was just homesick for God.

When they got back to her house, he got out and stood in the driveway. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Sure. Anytime.” She paused. “So come on in, and we can go over some things for the interview.”

Ian would have punched the air with victory at an invitation inside, but Ryan knew she was strictly business. He followed her in the back door, into the kitchen. As he walked in, Ryan looked around. The eat-in kitchen looked like it had recently been a happy place. Though the Carmichaels clearly didn’t have money falling off trees for granite countertops and upscale backsplashes, the place was clean and had feminine touches that he assumed were Krista’s.

Family pictures adorned the walls, some of her mother,
some of Ella, and the room had the potential for a happy yellow glow.

“Maybe you should go over my notes,” she said, “and help me figure out what I need to say and what to leave out.”

“You don’t need notes. I want you to talk from your heart about what happened to Ella.”

She sighed. “I’m just a little nervous.”

“You? The woman who stormed into my building demanding to see me? The woman who had no qualms about calling me a predator?”

She smiled. He really liked it when she did. “I can do things like that. But with the camera and the lights and the famous person interviewing me…that’s all a little different.”

“You’ll be great. Just pretend you’re standing in front of thousands of young people, because you will be. Only it’ll be millions. We’re on the first hour of the
Today Show
tomorrow, so kids will see it before they go to school. More importantly, parents will see it.”

She felt a little sick. “How long are they giving us?”

“Eight minutes.”

“Eight minutes? That isn’t much time.”

“It’s an eternity in morning talk show time. It just means we need to be tight. I’ll answer questions about my firing, being as vague as possible, and then I’ll throw it to you and give you the bulk of the time.”

She just looked at him, clearly surprised that he wouldn’t try to keep the spotlight on himself.

“We have to be at the affiliate studio by six-thirty, and they’ll link us to New York. So I’ll pick you up at five-forty-five. It’ll still be a little dark, so you don’t have to worry about being seen in my car.”

Again, a weak smile. “Okay, I’ll be ready.”

“So let’s practice,” he said. “I’ll be Matt Lauer, and you be you.”

“I’d rather be Matt.”

He winked at her. “Trust me, you’re good at you.”

Her cheeks blushed pink, which endeared her to him even more.

They practiced the interview until she was confident that she could handle it. Her dad came home as Ryan was getting ready to leave. Feeling awkward at the man’s clear disdain for him, he tried to shake his hand. “Hi, Mr. Carmichael.”

Her father looked at Ryan like he didn’t belong there, then shot a scathing look to Krista.

“Dad, Ryan came in with me so we could get ready for our interview on the
Today Show
tomorrow.”

David wasn’t appeased by the explanation. Without a word, he pushed on through the house.

Ryan glanced at Krista. “Am I not supposed to be in here?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I’m twenty-five years old. He’s just…not himself.”

She didn’t have to finish the explanation. Ryan knew what she meant. The man was having trouble coping with life, now that his youngest child’s life had been taken. He couldn’t say he blamed him.

He thanked her again for taking him with her to church, then said good-bye. But when he got into his Jaguar, he sat for a moment before turning the ignition, and prayed an awkward prayer for Krista and her dad. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d prayed. It had been a long time. But the pain in that house was palpable, and they needed God’s help.

And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that
he
needed God’s help too.