Under His Protection (SAMPLE- Available in eBook & paperback)

9

The ringing of the phone shattered the silence and woke Rita from a troubled sleep. Opening her heavy eyelids, she gazed at the bedside clock. The bright red numbers showed it was a few minutes after one.

Fumbling around on the nightstand, Rita located her cell phone and checked the caller ID. She didn't recognize the number. She declined the call and placed the phone back on the nightstand.

No sooner had Rita laid back down and her cell phone was ringing again. She grabbed the phone and saw it was the same number. After a moment of hesitation, she accepted the call. "Hello," she said.

"Hello, St. Rita."

His deep gravelly voice had Rita's blood turning to ice in her veins.

"That is what they call you, isn't it?" the man inquired. "Are you a saint, Rita? Or are you a naughty girl? I bet you're a naughty girl."

"What do you want from me?" she croaked.

"Your blood," he answered, "on my hands. It will happen, Rita. Oh, yes, it will happen. You can hire as many bodyguards as you want, but they won't keep you safe forever. I will have you and then you will be screaming and begging me for mercy."

Rita whimpered and curled up against the padded headboard.

"Scared?" he said. "You should be. Tell me something, St. Rita. What were you doing at the funeral home yesterday? Were you planning your funeral? It's not a bad idea. You never know when your time is up."

Fear gripped Rita in its icy clutches. He was watching her, following her. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and managed to say, "I'm going to hang up. Don't call me-"

"Hang up and one of your bodyguard's will die," he snarled. "You hang up when I say you can hang up. I call the shots, Rita, not you. Do you understand?"

Her body trembling, she muttered, "Yes."

"Good," he said. "Since we're going to be talking often, I should tell you my name. It's David. You may call me that."

"I don't care what your name is," Rita said, wrapping her arm around her middle. "I don't want to know anything about you. I just want you to turn yourself into the police and get the help you need."

"You think I'm crazy?" David inquired. "You could be right. I have no intentions of turning myself in, so get that thought out of your head. I'm just getting started with you, Rita. You're going to be a special project of mine."

Rita closed her eyes and breathed deeply, praying to God for his protection.

"I have to go, Rita," David told her. "I have some business to take care of. By business I mean I have another whore to put out of her misery."

"Please don't hurt anyone else," Rita begged him. "You don't have to-"

"I'll be in touch."

The line went dead. Rita ended the call, slipped out of bed, and ran across the dark bedroom. She threw open the door and hurried to the end of the hallway. She banged on her father's door. When he didn't respond she opened the door and stepped into the room. It was empty.

Rita quickly made her way downstairs to her father's office, located off the entrance hall. She didn't bother with knocking, but let herself in. Her father was sitting behind his large desk, typing on his laptop. He glanced up, a frown on his face.

"Sweetheart, what are you-?"

"He called me," Rita interrupted, waving her phone in the air.

Mr. Benson pushed back his chair and moved around the desk. He grasped Rita's forearm tenderly and guided her into a chair in front of the desk. He dragged a matching chair close to her and sat down. "Take a deep breath and then tell me everything."

Rita took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then told her father about the phone conversation she had with David.

"I need to inform Jack," Mr. Benson said, grabbing his phone from the desktop.

"He's going to kill another woman tonight," Rita uttered in a shaky voice.

Mr. Benson reached for his daughter's hand and said quietly, "I know, honey, but sadly we can't do anything to stop it. We don't know where he is. He could be in another city or state for all we know."

Tears filled Rita's eyes and ran down her cheeks as she thought about the defenseless woman who was about to die at the hands of a sadistic killer.

"Honey, please don't cry." Mr. Benson snatched a tissue from the box on his desk and dabbed at her cheeks. "I'm going to call Jack." He handed her the tissue and made the call.

"Yes, sir?" Jack said, answering on the third ring.

"I'm sorry to wake you up, but I wanted you to know that Rita just received a call from the killer," Mr. Benson said.

"I'm on my way, sir," Jack said.

"We're in the office." Mr. Benson ended the call and returned the phone to the desktop. "Why don't you lie down on the couch?"

"I don't need to lie down," Rita mumbled. "I'll be okay."

"Of course, you will," Mr. Benson said, smiling weakly. "You're a strong woman."

Rita stood and wandered over to the floor to ceiling windows behind the desk. She stared out into the night, her arms wrapping around her middle. She was still standing there when Jack entered the office, a few minutes later.

Jack gazed at Rita before shifting his attention to Mr. Benson. "Why don't you fill me in, sir."

Perching on the edge of the desk, Mr. Benson shared with Jack the conversation Rita had with David. Jack listened with a blank expression on his face. Inside he was seething with rage. The bastard was toying with Rita. Jack would give anything to have five minutes alone with the sicko. He would make him wish he had never targeted Rita.

"Officer Peterson needs to be made aware of this," Jack said, once Mr. Benson was finished. "I will call him later this morning, after I fill the team in."

"That's fine," Mr. Benson said.

Jack looked at Rita, who still had her back to him and the room. "I'll walk Rita to her room. She needs her rest. She has a busy day ahead of her."

"As long as he's out there, I'm not leaving this house," Rita said.

"Yes, you are," Jack told her firmly. "You're an important person to a lot of people. You're needed out there in the world, making a difference. Now come on, Rita. It's back to bed for you."

Reluctantly, Rita allowed him to escort her upstairs. Neither one said anything until they were standing outside the bedroom.

"He's been following and watching us," Rita said.

"That doesn't surprise me." Jack shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "You're not going to let it stop you from living your life. I won't let you. You're going to carry on as usual."

"I'm scared, Jack," she whispered.

"I know you are." He moved closer to her, grasped her chin gently, and tilted her head back to look into her eyes. "But you're one of the strongest women I know. You will get through this. Your faith will help you through."

Rita cleared her throat. "He's going to kill again and-"

"There's nothing you can do about that but pray for his victims," Jack cut in. "Pray for them and then let it go."

"I don't think I can," she said. 

"Then you will drive yourself insane." Jack stepped around her and opened the bedroom door. "Give me your phone. I know it's a long shot, but I'll call my friend, Grant, and see if he can put a trace on the phone the bastard used to call you."

Rita passed her phone to him.

"Go on." Jack gestured toward the bedroom. "Try and get some sleep. It's imperative that you get plenty of rest, so you're not walking around in a daze. I'll crash in the guest room across the hall. If you need me, you can come and get me."

Her heart in her throat, Rita walked into her room and closed the door.

END OF SAMPLE