I don't really expect an answer. I know how she works. She will leave me here for hours upon hours. Sweat pouring down me from the heat of these lamps. My mouth dry with the need of water. My muscles aching and trembling. My stomach clenching, and my head woozy from fear and hunger. She will push me to the edge, and when I am close to tumbling over into insanity or death, she will bring water. Bread. Maybe boiled meat.
And then the horror will start up again.
Or maybe not. Maybe this time she's tired of her games. Maybe this time she just wants to kill me.
What was it her text message said? That she could have done so much worse?
This, I think, is worse.
"Adele, please..."
And then I hear her heels. Those damned stilettos she always wears. They click across the concrete floor, and if I squint I can barely make out her movement to my left. She steps to one side so that she is blocking one of the spotlights.
Now I can see her silhouette against the light. I can't make out her face, but I'm sure that she is smiling, simpering and cold and crazy.
"Please what? Please make this fast? I don't want to make it fast. You've made me suffer for seventeen years. I don't think you'll be able to hold on for that long, but I'm willing to try if you are."
"I thought we were friends, Adele," I say. Not because I believe it but because I am desperate. "Why are you doing this?"
"Darling, we are friends. Or I thought we were, too. You stayed away from him, just like a friend should stay away from another woman's man. I don't hold a grudge about what you did when you were young--teenagers can do such foolish things--but once you grew up, you understood. You left. And, Janie darling, you were right. You even got married, you totally cleared the path. And then," she says, the soft edge of her voice turning as sharp as a blade, "then you twisted it all around.
"You want to know why I'm doing this? I'm doing it because you started it. Because you left me no choice. Because when someone tries to take what is yours, the only option left is to fight. And, darling Janie, this is a fight I promise you I'll win."
I wish I could see her face. I want to see the crazy in her eyes. I want to face down the monster who's been haunting us all this time.
But all I can do is talk to the shadow.
All I can do is pray that Dallas finds me in time.
Because I don't need to see her face to know that if she has her way, I'm not getting out of this room alive.
"Goddammit, we're running out of time," Dallas bellowed as he burst through the door and into Deliverance's headquarters.
Thirty-seven fucking minutes had already passed--thirty-seven minutes since a white van took down his mother in the intersection, and most likely would have killed her had Jane not been there to pull her enough out of the way to lessen the blow. Thirty-seven minutes since a man with a full beard and dark glasses leaped from the passenger side door and dragged Jane away from Lisa's side. Thirty-seven minutes since the man slammed the door shut, trapping Jane inside as the unseen driver sped away, leaving Lisa bleeding in the street.
Thirty-seven goddamn minutes since he'd lost her. And that was thirty-six minutes and fifty-nine seconds too long as far as Jane's safety was concerned.
"I know," Liam snapped as he looked up from where he stood in front of a monitor. "Don't you think I know?"
"Sorry--I'm sorry." He knew Liam was just as on edge as he was. Just as worried.
Just as fucking terrified.
"Adele will kill her this time, Liam. Our only chance is to find them fast, and hope she didn't already do it and dump the body."
Christ, were those words even coming out of his mouth?
"We're working on it. We've confirmed that Christopher Brown was one of her patients."
"Tell me about him."
"Christopher Brown, Caucasian male, now twenty-seven. Former juvenile offender. History of sexual abuse, both as a victim and a perp. As an adult, his sheet's long and varied. Arrests ranging from assault, domestic violence, burglary, armed robbery. Pled out for attempted rape, and as part of the deal he agreed to undergo counseling."
"Which is how he met Adele."
"Bingo."
"His residence?"