She had to keep him talking. “What...what do you mean?”

“They had every opportunity in life,” Andrew Chase said. “All of them. But they didn’t want it, did they? They were bright, healthy, whole. It wasn’t enough for them.”

Jessica managed to look to the top of the stairs, praying that she would not see Sophie’s little form there.

“These girls had it all, but they decided to throw it all away,” Chase said. “And for what?”

The wind howled outside the basement windows. Andrew Chase began to pace, the beam of his flashlight bouncing in the blackness.

“What chance did my little girl have?” he asked.

He has a child, Jessica thought. This is good.

“You have a little girl?” she asked.

Her voice sounded distant, as if she were talking through a metal pipe.

“I had a little girl,” he said. “She didn’t even get out of the gate.”

“What happened?” It was getting harder to form her words. Jessica didn’t know if she should make this man relive some tragedy, but she didn’t know what else to do.

“You were there.”

I was there? Jessica thought. What the hell is he talking about?

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jessica said.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“My...fault?”

“But the world went mad that night, didn’t it? Oh, yes. Evil was unleashed on the streets of this city and a great storm descended. My little girl was sacrificed. The righteous reaped reward.” His voice was rising in pitch and cadence. “Tonight I settle all debts.”

Oh my God, Jessica thought, the memory of that brutal Christmas Eve rushing back on a wave of nausea.

He was talking about Katherine Chase. The woman who miscarried in her squad car.Andrew and Katherine Chase.

“At the hospital they said things like ‘Oh don’t you worry, you can always have another baby.’ They don’t know. It was never the same for Kitty and me. With all the so-called miracles of modern medicine, they couldn’t save my little girl, and the Lord denied us another child.”

“It...it was nobody’s fault that night,” Jessica said. “It was a horrible storm.You remember.”

Chase nodded. “I remember all right. It took me nearly two hours to get to St. Katherine. I prayed to my wife’s patron saint. I offered a sacrifice of my own. But my little girl never came back.”

St. Katherine, Jessica thought. She’d been right.

Chase grabbed the nylon bag he had brought with him. He dropped it to the floor next to Jessica. “And do you really think that society is going to miss a man like Willy Kreuz? He was a pederast. A barbarian. He was the lowest form of human life.”

He reached into his bag, and began to remove items. He put them on the floor next to Jessica’s right leg. She slowly lowered her eyes. There was a cordless drill. There was a spool of sail maker’s thread, a huge curved needle, another glass syringe.

“It’s amazing what some men will tell you as if they were proud of it,” Chase said. “A few pints of bourbon. A few Percocets. All their terrible secrets bubble over.”

He began threading the needle. Depite the anger and rage in his voice, his hands were steady. “And the late Dr. Parkhurst?” he continued. “A man who used his position of authority to prey on young girls? Please. He was no different. The only thing that separated him from men like Mr. Kreuz was the pedigree. Tessa told me all about Dr. Parkhurst.”

Jessica tried to talk, but couldn’t. All her fear bottlenecked. She felt herself fade in and out of consciousness.

“Soon you will understand,” Chase said. “Easter Sunday there will be a resurrection.”

He placed the threaded needle on the floor, got within inches of Jessica’s face. In the dim light, his eyes looked burgundy. “The Lord asked Abraham for his child. And now the Lord has asked me for yours.”

Please, no, Jessica thought.

“It is time,” he said.

Jessica tried to move.

She couldn’t.

Andrew Chase walked up the steps.

Sophie.

Jessica opened her eyes. How long had she been out? She tried again to move. She could feel her arms, but not her legs. She tried to roll onto her side, failed. She tried to drag herself to the base of the steps, but the effort was too great.

Was she alone?

Had he left?

There was now a single candle lit. It sat on top of the dryer and threw

long, shimmering shadows on the unfinished ceiling of the basement. She strained to hear.

She nodded off again, startling herself awake seconds later. Footfalls behind her. It was so hard to keep her eyes open. So hard.

Her limbs felt like stone.

She turned her head as far as she could. When she saw Sophie in the

arms of this monster, a freezing rain rinsed her insides.

No, she thought.

No!

Take me.

I’m right here. Take me!

Andrew Chase put Sophie down on the floor next to her. Sophie’s

eyes were closed, her body limp.

Inside Jessica’s veins, the adrenaline fought the drug he had given her.

If she could just get up and get one clear shot at him, she knew she could

hurt him. He was heavier than her, but just about the same height. One

blow. With the rage and anger roiling inside her, it was all she needed. When he turned away from her momentarily, she saw that he had

found her Glock. He now had it in the waistband of his pants. Out of his field of vision, Jessica moved an inch closer to Sophie. The

effort seemed to exhaust her completely. She had to rest.

She tried to see if Sophie was breathing. She couldn’t tell. Andrew Chase turned back to them, the drill now in his hand. “It is time to pray,” he said.

He reached into his pocket, removed a carriage bolt.

“Prepare her hands,” he said to Jessica. He knelt down, put the cordless drill in Jessica’s right hand. Jessica felt the bile rise in her throat. She