TELL ME THERE'S A REASON

"Hang on a minute, Ezra, I want everyone to hear this." Chris punched in the transfer to the speaker phone in the conference room.
Chris strode out his office, signaling to the men in the bullpen on his way through, to join him in the conference room. The urgency of the message understood, without explanation they hung up abruptly on their telephone conversations, rose quickly from their chairs and converged on the conference room.

Knowing they would follow immediately Chris hit the answering button, "Go ahead, Ezra."

"We believe we have found him." Ezra paused knowing they would need a moment to digest this information, "at least where he is presently residing."

No one said a word but anxious glances were exchanged around the room.

"The description of the resident, though somewhat vague, is consistent with that of our suspect. According to the landlord, the name on the lease agreement is John Beck. The signature has not yet been verified but it was enough to warrant an investigation of the residence. The next door neighbour tells us the lone occupant moved in three months ago, appears to work at night and keeps very much to himself."

"Good, Ezra."

"Have you been inside?" The urgent question came from Josiah.

"Not as yet. This same neighbour is retired and keeps a rather close watch on the neighbourhood as a whole. He tells us that we can expect Mr. Beck home from work at any time. We have set up surveillance rather then risk alerting the suspect to our presence."

"Keep us posted, Ezra."

"Most assuredly."

Chris hit the end button. They had all leaned in toward the speakerphone not wanting to miss anything Ezra had to report. Straightening now they exchanged furtive glances with one another.

Josiah leaned back against the wall arms crossed, chin down, lost in thought.

"Do you want to go?" asked Chris turning to the profiler.

"No need," replied Josiah giving his head a brief shake. "Ezra's more than capable of handling the situation."

"What's got you bugged then?" persisted Chris.

"Nothing... everything...." Josiah frowned. He brought an arm up swiftly and scratched the back of his head in a frustrated gesture. "I was so damn sure he was here in Denver." He sighed before looking up at the other men in the room. "Maybe I'm losing my touch."

"Maybe we just got lucky fer a change," drawled Vin.

"It'd be nice to have things fall into place for us just once," commented Buck.

"You're thinking maybe something's not right?" asked Nathan.

Josiah lips twitched into a grimace. "Maybe." Josiah couldn't shake the feeling that this was too easy. He had been sure Weller had been after him but then again maybe not. He was missing something here. Archangel Raphael, Patron Saint of the blind...

"Aaaaghh!" With a banshee cry Rosie leaped over the back of the couch landing squarely on JD's back. "I found you, I found you!" she crowed victoriously.

JD grunted and swayed with the sudden weight landing on his bruised back, "You found me alright!" He replied laughing as he rose from behind the couch with Rosie on his back."

"Giddy up horsey!" she ordered.

"Where to this time, my lady?"

"Mommy and Daddy's room."

Rosie broke into delighted laughter as JD twirled around with her on his back a couple of times before "galloping" into the kitchen, around the kitchen table and then back out through the living room into the hall. Ending the pony ride by flopping onto the bed in the bedroom where Del was working away at her accounts on the computer set up on the little desk in the far corner of the room. "Noooo... more horsey ride."

"Child, have respect for your uncle, he's not yours to order around," admonished her mother gently.

"It's okay, Del, how often to we get to play just the two of us?"

"JD, you're bruised and still limping, she doesn't have to be so rough."

"Oh, JD, I forgot," her eyes were big with concern, "Are you okay?"

"I am a little sore," admitted JD batting sad brown eyes at his niece.

"What would make you feel better?" she asked seriously." Her face was full of concern for her surrogate uncle.

"Well..." he bit his lip, "maybe..."

"Maybe what?" she asked leaning toward him anxious to help if she could.

"Maybe.... Playing... TICKLE MONSTER," he yelled swooping down to tickle her with both hands. Rosie screamed and rolled back and forth on the bed laughing and pleading with her uncle to stop.

"Where are you getting your energy from?" wondered Del as she watched the two on the bed. "You waited up for your father until he got home at two a.m. and then got up at six to have breakfast with him. You should be exhausted."

It wasn't long before the activity on the bed slowed. Taking a deep gulping breath she asked, "Mama, can I go to school now?"

Del exchanged a quick glance with JD before answering, "Maybe tomorrow, Rosie."

"But I'm bored," moaned the youngster with a dramatic sigh.

"Hey, Rosie, it's your turn to hide now."

Suddenly Beau, who had been nestled contentedly beside the desk watching the antics on the bed, was on his feet and growling.

They could hear the rest of the dogs out back, barking and howling.

"Cussed hounds," cursed Del, "probably another squirrel. I haven't been able to take the dogs out for run since this all started, they're as antsy as the dickens." Del started to get up from her chair.

"Hey, twiglet, how about you hide while I go see what's up with the dogs for your mom?"

"Okay, but take a long time cause I'm going to hide really good this time."

"You got it, but I bet I still find you!"

"How much do you want to bet!" The little girl's eyes lit up at the prospect of a wager.

"No betting," vetoed her mother firmly, "now go hide!" The little girl bounced happily out of the room. She would have to have a few words with Uncle Ezra mused Del grimly.

"Thanks, JD, day two and she's already a handful and I have to get at these accounts."

"Hey, no problem, Del." JD rolled off the bed. "We'll catch him soon, I just know it." He flashed her an encouraging smile on his way out of the room.

It was a full hour before Ezra phoned back. Five men stood at the ready the moment the muted beeping of conference room speakerphone began.

Josiah leaned across the table and punched the "on" button. "What have you got Ezra."

"I regret to inform you that we do not, as yet, have the suspect in custody. I do not know how but he made us and ran. Myself, Mr. Osipenko and a number of the local FBI contingent, have made an unfortunate discovery in the basement at this address..."

Josiah made the leap. "How many bodies, Ezra?"

"Three... so far." Josiah's head dropped at Ezra's reply. A heavy silence filled the room before Ezra continued, "John Osipenko has no doubt this is Weller's handiwork, the appropriate teeth are missing.... Josiah, I'm truly sorry."

"Where is Weller now," asked Chris.

"At present he is barricaded inside a local mini-mart with an undetermined number of hostages. SWAT is on scene, it is only a matter of time. Bronwen Jones is on site to make the appropriate identification."

"Thanks, Ezra, keep in touch"

"Will do." The hum of the disconnected line filled the room before Nathan hit the off button.

"I guess that's it then." Buck was the first one to break the heavy silence. "Josiah, I wish we coulda caught him before..."

"So do I. Buck." Josiah dropped heavily into a chair. His voice was weary and heavy with defeat. Once again he had failed to find Weller in time and innocent young women had died.

"There was nothing you could have done that would have made a difference here." Nathan had always tried to provide perspective in the face of perceived failure.

Josiah acknowledged Nathan's attempt at comfort was a tiny nod of his head. "I know."

"Look, Josiah, we can take it from here... go home." The order came from the boss. Del and Rosie could do more for him right now than they could.

The head of grey curls nodded slowly in reply. He had failed, at least three more young women had died and this time he'd been faked right out of the picture. He stood slowly, moving like a man twice his age. His failure at being so thoroughly fooled by this madman weighed heavily on him. He had been blinded by his fear for his family.

"You okay, pard?"

"No, Vin, I'm not."

Josiah stood and looked straight at Chris, "I think maybe it's time I get out of this business. Like Nathan said, there was nothing I could have done to make a difference."

Chris opened his mouth to argue but then seemed to decide otherwise. He nodded stiffly, "I'd like to talk about it before you make a final decision." Chris didn't want Josiah making any decisions now, not when this failure was so fresh in his mind.

Josiah nodded again, he moved toward the door.

"You're going straight home... no stopping at the Stars 'n Bars? Right?" The last time Josiah had been too late to stop Weller; he'd ended up in a fistfight outside the bar.

"Yeah, Chris. Straight home. No stops."

"You want some company? I could drive you home," offered Nathan.

"No thanks, I'm fine to drive."

JD stepped out the back door to find the dogs milling around the dog run. They seemed to take no notice of him as he walked towards them. One by one they trotted around to the other side and back again, ears back, growling menacingly. JD watched as they repeated the exercise again and again.

"What could it be?" he wondered. The perimeter was lousy with FBI surveillance what could have the dogs so upset. "An animal maybe," he thought as he cautiously made his way around the dog run.

The foliage was so dense beyond the homestead property that JD didn't see them until he spoke.

"Get rid of the dogs!"

There, in amongst the trees, well back from the property line and the threat of the dogs, stood Jonathan Becks Weller.

The pack paced back and forth around JD growling at the two men standing stock-still. He could barely see Weller. Weller was shielding himself with the other man. Weller's arm wrapped his neck while holding a gun to his head. JD recognized other man as Sandy Williamson; the FBI surveillance agent assigned to watch him. Blood ran down the side of Sandy's face from a gash high on his forehead.

"Get rid of the dogs or he dies," repeated Weller, shoving the snout of the silencer hard into the side of Sandy's head.

JD glanced quickly at Sandy who winced at having the metal silencer jammed into his skull. Sandy didn't look good. He seemed barely able to stand and a little disoriented. JD didn't think Sandy would be much help to him.

JD nodded in response and backed away toward the dog run, whistling for the dogs as he went. He opened the cage door. Pointing, he ordered them inside. Reluctantly the dogs did as they were bidden, crossing the yard and entering into the dog run. All except Beau, he was still watching from his post at the kitchen screen door and couldn't see the threat on the other side of the dog run yet.

JD secured the gate and turned to look at Weller all the while glancing left and right, "Where the hell was the FBI?" he asked himself.

Now that the threat of the dogs was gone, Weller was making his way slowly forward with Williamson still in front of him. "Agent Dunne, good news, Jonathan Becks Weller has been captured." JD could hear the triumphant tone in his voice, "or at least he will be shortly."

JD's mind began to race. Weller had arranged a decoy somehow, probably in Kansas City so everyone's attention would be focused there. JD looked around again desperately seeking any sign of help.

"Oh, and as a result," sneered Weller. "Your FBI guards have been called off."

The rest of the team was occupied with a fake Weller and the FBI surveillance agents gone; it was up to him to get Rosie and Del out of this. He started backing up hoping Weller wouldn't notice and follow him out into the open where Beau would see him.

"Tell me, JD why don't you use the name John... nice name John, don't you think?"

JD didn't answer he just took another shuffling step backwards.

"Nothing to say, John?" the toothy grin gave JD the shivers. "Just like with the Nichols brothers eh?"

JD felt his stomach lurch. Josiah had been right! This creep was behind his kidnapping and beatings.

"Tell me, John how long will the dogs keep that noise up?"

The barking had been incessant. Del was probably so used to it she didn't even notice. Again JD took another step backwards.

"Stop right there! Not another step!" again he shoved the gun into Sandy Williamson's temple. Sandy winced as the action drew fresh blood.

"Answer me!"

"Pretty much steady as long as you two are here, you're strangers. Hounds don't like strangers." JD replied warily. He had to draw the man out around the cages, out into the open, so Beau could see him. Beau would alert Del.

The barking of the dogs slowed for a moment. They paced up and down the fence line growling as they watched Weller coming ever closer to their cage. Out of frustration the young blue tick, Chance leapt up onto the fence beside Weller. The unexpected action startled Weller. He turned his gun toward the dog. The impression of helplessness was gone in an instant as Sandy Williamson suddenly drove an elbow hard into Weller's ribs. Weller grunted against the blow. He kept his feet and tightened the arm around Sandy's neck and retaliated by driving the gun hard into the FBI agent's lower back.

JD managed to cover fifteen feet between them but with broken ribs and bruised hip he wasn't fast enough. He froze as Weller turned the gun toward him. Weller said nothing only smiled maliciously at him. JD's eyes dropped to Williamson. From the pain filled expression on Sandy's face and the ragged breathing he could tell Sandy was in real trouble now.

"Turn around, John," said Weller harshly.

"Was he going to kill me now?" thought JD desperately.

"I said turn around, John," repeated Weller, again pointing the gun back at Williamson's head.

JD raised his hand and turned slowly but not before he caught the look of alarm in Williamson's eyes. Too late he realized the danger. He heard Williamson's strangled warning cry of "Dun...!" punctuated by a quiet pop just before the world suddenly burst into a thousand bright lights.

This computer was fighting her. She couldn't get into her stupid e-mail again! Maybe JD could...?

She looked up suddenly. Something was wrong. The tone of the barking and howling had changed. She was used to the barking and baying of the dogs and long ago had learned to recognize the differences in their howls. They weren't bored and barking at a squirrel now, there was an urgency to their tone. Something was wrong. She checked her watch: fifteen minutes since JD had gone out to check on the dogs. He hadn't returned, neither had Beau.

Damn! She'd become too preoccupied with the accounts.

Del rose quickly from her chair at the computer tucked away in the far corner of their bedroom, moving quickly and listening intently, she picked up the telephone receiver on Josiah's side of the bed and hit the speed dial number for his office number, no tone, nothing... no wonder the e-mail wasn't working, the line was dead. The landline was all they had: their home was situated in one of the "grey" areas where cell service didn't reach. Moving quickly she moved around the bed to scoop up Tess from the bedroom closet.

She didn't like this. She didn't like it at all. "Where is JD?" Then as icy fear gripped her heart as she wondered, "Where is Rosie?" "Slow down, Delancey," she counseled herself, "don't get yourself into a panic or you'll end up shooting someone you shouldn't... one of those useless as a pet raccoon FBI surveillance agents for instance."

She peered around the door jamb before moving cautiously into the hallway. With light steps she moved soundlessly down the hallway before stopping just outside Rosie's room. Leaning flat against the wall she could just see into bedroom. The bed that sat against the wall was unmade and held only Rosie's stuffed toys. Bringing the rifle up to her shoulder she leaned away from the wall and moved so she slowly panned the room. The bedside table, the bookshelf, the mobile of the sun and nine planets that made up the solar system hung from the ceiling, it was absolutely still, the Barbie dollhouse, then her closet, as usual the door stood wide open there was nothing unusual within.

Turning her attention now on the bathroom at the end of the hall Del worked her way past the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar; she watched it intently as she approached it and ever so cautiously she nudged the door open with her foot. Again nothing, the shower curtain was drawn back to reveal an empty bath tub, there was simply no place else to hide in the tiny boudoir.

The linen closet stood before her. Though it wouldn't hold a man, Del was suddenly reminded that more than once Rosie had hidden in the closet by tucking herself under the bottom shelf. Del slowly turned the door knob, she felt rather than heard the satisfying little click as the door unlatched itself. She swung the door open and grimaced as the bottom hinge squealed as it had always done. Nothing!

Where was she!

Del held Tess at the ready as she made her way stealthily back down the hall. She paused a moment to put her hand on the deadbolt on the door to the porch; it was too high for Rosie to undo but she confirmed that it was still securely latched.

She paused where she was stood very still, listening. She couldn't hear a thing above the dogs. Beau was in the kitchen. He wouldn't leave the house without her. He would be closer in the kitchen - she should be able to hear him above the din outside. Her back against the door to the porch and Tess at her shoulder she led with the barrel as she swept the living room. No one, and no place to hide except if you were six years old. Moving quickly through the room, she held the rifle upright and close to herself again as she inched her sight line around the doorjamb to the kitchen. She didn't like what she saw.

JD had left the bigger inside door open, and now the screen door was open as well, listing gently on its hinges. The nylon screening in the door wafted gently in the breeze as the screen door listed gently. The screening had been torn out. No. The ragged edges pointed outwards something had gone through the door from the kitchen out into the yard. Beau? From here she heard something else, a music-like chinging. She had heard the sound once before. A mountain cat had found its way into the yard one night. The dogs had tried in vain to jump the twelve foot high chain link fence to get at the animal. They could only jump up against it and fall back to the ground within the confines of the cage. It had been their bodies bouncing off the fence that made the chinging noise.

A half a dozen quick steps took her just far enough a cross the kitchen to see out of the door. From here she could see JD's dark head as he lay on the ground on the far side of the dog pen.

She fought the urge to run out the door to him. She knew he had to be hurt and bad.

He made no movement with the riot going on behind the fence directly beside him. Think, Del, she ordered herself. The threat, whoever it was, was outside. Rosie... precocious as she was, was not a disobedient child. Rosie was inside. Secure the house and wait for help. She didn't like that option. She much preferred to go after the threat rather than to wait for it to come to her at a time of its own choosing. But with her daughter's life at risk it was the wisest thing to do. What about JD? He would have to wait, she decided. In her priorities her child came first. She would make sure Rosie was safe and secure and then she would figure out a way to help JD.

She moved forward again. She was reaching out with her left hand to grab the big door so push it shut when she saw Beau. His limp form lay in the dirt, a dark pool of blood beside him.

The sight of Beau caused her to hesitate. She wasn't sure if she heard or felt the threat, only that she raised her eyes as the breeze swung the screen door toward her. That's when she saw his distorted reflection in the upper window of the door.

"SONOVABITCH! What now?" roared Chris.

Nathan appeared at Chris's doorway. He read Nathan's lips rather than heard his voice over the constant ringing of the bell. "Bomb threat!"

"Shit just what we needed!" he cursed to himself.

Chris shot into the bullpen, bellowing, "Cell phones off! Everybody out!"

Nathan, Vin and Buck followed each other quickly out of the office heading toward the stairwell.

The last to leave, Chris looked down to see the light flashing on Josiah's desk phone. It was probably ringing as well but he couldn't hear it over the alarm bell. In any event the caller would have to wait.

For some reason he couldn't fathom, that minor decision nagged at Chris as he descended the stairwell.

"Pick up! Pick up!" chanted Ezra desperately into his cell phone. "Damn it! One of you, pick up!"

"Any luck yet?" Bronwen's frightened eyes starred back at him.

"Not yet!"

John Osipenko appeared in the doorway. "Standish, Ops just received notification of a bomb threat in the AFT offices in Denver."

"Lovely," mused Ezra grimly. He realized that meant the building had been evacuated and cell phones had been turned off.

"How are we going to get a hold of them?" asked Bronwen.

"Local PD?" suggested Osipenko.

"That would take too much time, John," argued Bronwen.

Ezra's smiled suddenly and then started fingering the buttons on his cell phone, going through the entries in the directory. "I need a land line now!" he ordered.

Instantly she moved to reset the rifle against her shoulder. He was quicker. He reached into the room just as she had both hands on the gun, and grabbed the barrel of the gun. Del, not ready to fire but not wanting to give up the gun, found herself dragged through the doorway. Bracing his body against the house he swung Del around by the rifle and flung her backwards toward the stairs. Feeling herself falling, Del instinctively let go of the rifle.

Weller had flung her with such force she sailed backwards over the steps to land hard on her back on the ground below.

Del had had the wind knocked out of her; looking up she saw Weller as he stood at the top of the steps gazing victoriously down at her. He took a step down and picked the Remington where it had fallen and threw with all his might. It landed in the tangle of cedars that ran down the side of the yard.

He made his way slowly down the steps taking each step deliberately one at a time; he had time to savour this first victory over Josiah Sanchez.

Del struggled up on one elbow as she fought to breathe. She looked up into his smug, smiling face. She had to get up she thought desperately. She had no chance against him on the ground. No matter what happened she wasn't about to make it easy for him. She rolled over onto all fours as he approached and tried to scramble to her feet. But still gasping for breath she was slow.

"What's your hurry, Jezebelle?" He raised his foot and placed it between her shoulder blades to push her down again, but Del had other plans. Feeling his foot on her back, she rolled back over grabbing his foot. She kept on rolling pulling him down on the ground beside her. Again she tried to regain her feet.

"I'll not be beaten by the likes of you, whore!" he bellowed grabbing her by the leg and pulling her down again. She kicked at him. He ducked out of the way of the foot. She kicked at him again. This time she was rewarded with a grunt of pain.

"Bitch," he hissed as he started crawling his way up on top of her. She braced a foot against the ground and pushed suddenly with all she had. She managed to roll them both over but he did not let go of her and rolled them both over again.

Her fists flew as she fought desperately to free herself. He caught her right wrist and grabbed for the other when he suddenly howled in pain.

Del was confused; she hadn't landed a blow that would hurt him that badly. She looked over to her left. Beau! Beau wasn't dead. He'd raised himself up just enough to sink his teeth into Weller's forearm. She caught the waves of agony that coursed through his eyes. He could not hold on, releasing Weller he fell back onto the ground.

Weller raised his good arm and drove his fist into Del's face. Instantly she went limp.

Breathing heavily, he rolled off of her. He lay on his back waiting for his breathing to return to normal. He had never expected her to be so physically strong. 'What else could I have expected?' he thought to himself. 'Josiah is a strong man. The devil would need a strong woman both physically and spiritually to sway him. I will help him see the light,' Weller assured himself. 'I will help my brother see the true form of the devil within this woman. Then together Josiah and I will smite this harlot.' He vowed to himself, 'and if she is so strong that Josiah cannot see her for the flawed unholy creature she is, then my brother Josiah, too will have to die.'

He stumbled his way to his feet. "Praised be Jehovah," he said out loud as he made his way up the steps and into the house.

They stood a block away watching, waiting for the all clear. So far the bomb squad had found nothing. Nathan had found out that threat had been phoned-in. Since 9/11 nothing was left to chance any more.

The crowds had gathered; onlookers both curious and nervous. Chris was becoming more anxious with each passing minute. They weren't getting any closer to Weller standing on the sidewalk.

"Hey, Inez, what are you doing here?"

Chris turned to see Inez brush past Buck. She held out the cordless phone from the bar to him. "Senor Larabee, this call is for you."

The slender hand covered her mouth with bruising strength. He held her head in a vice-like grip back against his shoulder. The ragged sounds of his breathing filled her ear. Instinctively she clutched at his arm.

"Ah, ah, ahh," he cautioned as he pressed the flat of the blade into her throat.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Weller tightened his grip and shook her brutally. "Behave, Jezebelle, or it will be your daughter's life Josiah Sanchez trades for his."

She had no choice. She still didn't know where Rosie was, but she could only hope that Weller hadn't found her yet and that Rosie would stay wherever she was, hidden and safely out of the way. Dammit to hell, where was the FBI surveillance!

She had awoken to find herself lying on the kitchen floor. Her head ached fiercely. Her left eye felt swollen and she couldn't see out of it very well. Weller was leaning over her cleaning her face with the cold wet dishcloth. He had to make her presentable, he muttered to himself. He had to make Josiah Sanchez see how women disguise the evil within them. He had cleaned himself up. He smoothed his hair back into place and washed his own face. It wasn't without a small sense of satisfaction she noticed he had a split lip.

When he noticed she was awake he had dragged her to her feet. That's when, with surgical knife in hand, the "spiritual cleansing" of the Delancey Cowper Sanchez began.

His thin lips twisted into a malicious grin as she acquiesced, lowering her handcuffed arms slowly.

He lowered the knife to catch the threads of the top button of her shirt with the tip of the knife. With a sudden flick, the button flew through the air to land with a tick, tick, tick as the button skittered across the floor.

She felt rather than saw his smile broaden as her eyes widened as he placed the point of the knife under the threads of the next button. A second button followed the first.

He repeated this little ritual until all of her shirt buttons were scattered around the floor.

Using the knife he slowly drew the lapels of her shirt aside to reveal the white lace of her bra.

"Harlot's trappings." The whispered hiss was full of disdain.

Taking the knife he traced the upper swell of her right breast with the cold steel point. "Age has not dampened your powers over men, whore. But I...I alone have been granted the strength to resist your unholy attractions."

The knife moved to the valley between her breasts. Del couldn't help but jump at the sudden turn of the knife as the tip pierced her skin. He tightened his savage grasp on her mouth and slowly, oh so slowly, he drew the razor sharp point over the sensitive skin.

Del moaned mutely into the rough hand, her eyes darting left and right in quick succession against the agony of the incision. Tears gathered in her eyes and began to drip freely down her cheeks.

The ultra fine instrument drew a half moon curve up and over the creamy white flesh to outline the soft swell of her female form. Piercing the first two layers of her skin with surgical precision, blood droplets instantly beaded along the line.

"I really don't understand what it was that brother Sanchez sees in you. Let me be honest, harlot. You are plain of face, you wear the clothes of men and you are lame, not at all a fetching package you must admit. Yet you hold him in thrall, slave to your every ungodly whim." He spoke conversationally as she remained still, her teeth gritted and her eyes screwed tight shut against the agony.

She sagged against him boneless when he finally lifted the metal tip. Only then did she realize how tense her body had been under the assault. In the moment of relief he suddenly jerked her head sideways so her ear was pressed back against his shoulder.

She felt the knife point rest just below the dimple in her chin. Then drop below her chin. With a quick twist to pierce the skin again and as slowly as before he drew the knife along the underside of her jaw line. Eyes still closed she gritted her teeth but that only made the pain worse. She willed herself to relax her jaw. The tears of silent agony began to fall again.

The motion was still well controlled but he could not see what he was doing this time so the incision was deeper than before. Thread thin rivulets of blood began to trickle down her neck. As he approached the end of her jaw he drew the knife up and away from her neck to end at the junction of her earlobe. All the while he spoke, quoting scripture and saying prayers to Almighty. She heard none of it as she fought to control her reactions against the slow torture of the knife.

A second time the torture ended and she relaxed. He just stood there hold her against himself. After a moment she became aware of something poking her left butt cheek. She wanted to vomit; this monster was getting an erection from doing this to her.

The dogs heard it first, rising to their feet and baying a warning. She knew what had alerted the dogs before she heard it; the suburban. Josiah was home.