As the meeting drew to an end, Noah shook everyone’s hand. His effect was so genuine even I, who knew the truth, was lulled into believing the authenticity of the act.
“Be sure to take the back doors when you leave,” Noah’s voice rang through the sanctuary as men filed out. “Officers will be stationed outside to provide safe passage should you require it.”
A couple of men who were the first to meander out of the sanctuary huffed. “Never thought I’d see the day when I’d be safer with a cop at my side than without.”
“I can barely walk into a supermarket without being called out. All these neighborhood watch groups popping up and damn Disciples handing out fliers with our faces on them at every corner.”
Turning to them, I couldn’t help myself. “If you would never have committed an egregious crime, you wouldn’t have to worry about being recognized as a sexual predator.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of a second chance?” The younger one who had the looks of a college football star and the eyes of a predator waved me off.
“And what about a second chance for the children you forced yourselves upon?” I stared at them, waiting for a sufficient answer I guessed would not come. “Where’s their second chance?”
“Think you missed the group meeting you’re supposed to be at. The pitchfork wavers are outside, dressed in black and masks because they’re too chicken-shit to show their faces.”
Something warmed in my blood. Moving toward the two men, I didn’t stop until I was right in front of them. “Here’s my face,” I said, meeting their eyes. “Remember it.”
Saying nothing else, I stood there, forcing them to be the ones to look away first. The ones to scurry off into the void. They were followed by the other men from the group.
“Contemplating the dark side?” His voice spilled like an echo from behind, billowing around me as though it were encasing me.
“I’m on your side, whatever side of the light that puts me.” Turning slowly, I found him standing beside one of the pews, appraising me with a look that somehow managed to invoke both the urge to run from and to him. “Whatever side of the law that finds me.”
From the corner of my eye, I noticed a shadow emerge from the end of one of the pews. Adrenaline burst into my veins when I saw who it was.
“Noah, leave.” I moved between him and Ed. “Run.”
Noah didn’t budge, almost appearing amused at my attempts to run defense. “Promise to give chase if I do?”
After firing a brief glare at him, I focused on Ed, contemplating what he was going to do. Ed knew who Noah was and had served the Seattle PD for close to forty years. “Noah, I’m serious.”
“Clearly,” Noah replied, gesturing at me as proof.
Ed started for the aisle.
“He knows.” I stared at Noah, a silent plea etched into the furrows of my face. “He’s got proof.”
Noah’s eyes cut across the aisle toward Ed. “I’m aware of that.”
“And he’s not going anywhere.” Ed’s deep voice rumbled through the sanctuary. He lifted his hands as he approached, as though to calm a feral creature. “I showed him the footage earlier, after you flew out of my Buick like I was fixing to filet you and serve you for dinner.”
“You’re a police officer,” I argued.
“And you’re a prosecutor, kid.” Ed’s heavy footsteps rang against the rafters. “But you and me, we’re on the same side of this thing.”
“You’ve got that wrong.” My head shook, causing a spray of rain droplets to fall from the ends of my hair. “This instance, I’m on the wrong side of the law.”
Ed stopped moving when he was in front of me, the weathered lines of his face drawn deep from his serious expression. “So am I. I’m with you. And him.”
My eyes swept from Ed to Noah, confusion making me blink in rapid succession. “What’s going on?”
Noah’s long arm gestured across the aisle. “Ed visited my office earlier this afternoon, showing me the intersection footage and stating his suspicions.”
“What did you tell him?” My voice stumbled over the second half of my question.
“The truth.”
The air left my lungs in a plunging gasp. “You confessed to the murders of over thirty people, Noah.”
He held his arms out, lifting the cuffs of his shirtsleeves to reveal his wrists to me. “Do you see any handcuffs?”
“Will somebody please tell me what’s going on?” My voice churned up the aisle, echoing off the high ceilings and stained glass.
“I want in.” Ed’s throat moved when my eyes landed on him.
“You want in?” I repeated, waiting for some kind of explanation.
Ed waved his finger between Noah and me. “I want to assist you two in whatever manner I can.”
“Us two?” When I glanced at Noah for some kind of direction, his chin tipped at me in a way that suggested he thought I was doing fine. “Last I checked, there was the Huntsman, singular, not Huntsmen, plural.”
The corners of Ed’s eyes narrowed. “And how long have you known and remained silent?”
“A whole twenty hours.”
“And that was a whole twenty hours you had to turn the most active serial killer in known existence over to the authorities. But you didn’t.” Ed stuck his hands into the pockets of his rain jacket. “I’d say that’s you joining—voluntarily or not—the team.”
My teeth ground. “There isn’t a team.”
“Well maybe there should be.” Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he pulled up an image on his screen. He flashed it to Noah first, then me. “This is Dallas Dubois, twenty-six years old and already has a record the size of a hardened criminal twice his age. He likes kids. Little ones. Does things to them I won’t say out loud inside a place of God.” Ed stared at the image on his phone, a silent storm of emotions playing across his face. “I have a buddy down in the Salt Lake precinct. This animal was recently brought in as the main suspect of a murdered kid they found floating in some local river. There were signs of severe sexual and physical abuse, even with the body decomp’ing in the water for weeks.”
Ed pulled up another image, a long rush of air coming from his nose as he studied it. “Whatever evidence might have been present when the body went into the water was long gone by the time someone pulled it out, and Dubois’s girlfriend gave him an alibi for the approximate time of death.”
When Ed showed me the photo, I didn’t look away or close my eyes as images like this advised. Neither did Noah when Ed’s phone shifted toward him. The ridge of Noah’s jaw faintly pressed against his skin, his shoulders stiffening beneath his dress shirt.
“So Dubois pulls the Get Out of Jail Free card, and Salt Lake’s going to be dragging another six-year-old out of the river sometime in the future.” Ed stuffed his phone back into his pocket. “I wanted to see if this waste of space was a case you two might be interested in taking a closer look at.”
Why Ed was here, the reason he’d shown us the video evidence, was beginning to take shape. He wasn’t there to take Noah in . . . he was there to give him his next target.