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Chapter Thirteen
There is none righteous; no, not one. —Romans 3:10
Anis Tera lingeredover his breakfast of coffee and a sweet pastry. This was one of those times that it was a blessing to have the sort of face that blended into a crowd. Today, he wore a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, on top of a scraggly brown wig that hung below his earlobes. The patchy mustache and goatee were itchy, but in service to the Lord, sacrifices must bemade.
Today’s treat was a rare indulgence for him. Over the top of his newspaper he watched people in the coffee shop bustle about with their orders, finding places to sit with friends or family. A few of them, like him, were alone. He approved of that. Only those who weren’t at peace with themselves fearedsolitude.
There was a big splashy news article about Jeanette Lawler’s body being discovered, followed by a few smaller ones filled with juicy tidbits from her sordid show. Anis read the first article carefully. There was mention of a canine unit, and a professional photo of Lawler, along with a plea for anyone who’d seen her last night to call a policeline.
He pursed his lips as he considered the development. It had happened before, over the years, and the tactic had yielded nothing. Given the crowd in the club and the pains he’d taken with his appearance, Anis wasn’tworried.
He picked up the pastry and bit into with relish. At first he’d lived in fear of being found out, but his paranoia had long since dissipated. He’d had some close calls with his subjects a time or two, but never with the police. He’d thought he was lucky until the truth had been revealed to him: The Lord was paving the way for Anis’s holywork.
Still, care had to be taken. Anis worried about whether he’d overstepped caution yesterday. He’d never tarried after a mission like he was now. There had never been a reason. Alexa Hayden had changedeverything.
So, he’d had to change, aswell.
Sipping from his to-go cup, he contemplated the actions he’d taken yesterday. Dangerous, but he’d mitigated the risk. The van had been safely stowed away while it was still dark, and he’d switched vehicles before returning to Truro. He’d stayed away from cameras and had only been seen by a kid and an old man, neither of whom would be good witnesses. And what could they tell the police, anyway? That they’d spoken to a man decades older than Anis. Wearing clothes he’d already thrownaway.
No. The police would yip excitedly about the sightings, but in the end, they’d have nothing new. The risk was balanced by what he’d gained—information on AlexaHayden.
A small smile tilted his lips. Had she gasped when she’d seen his gift to her? Had she realized his power? The police would test the container, of course. And they’d find prints. Possibly DNA. But both would belong to the person who’d thrown the to-go box in the Dumpster for him to fish out. His smile grew at the thought of them wasting labor and time testing the container. Possibly chasing down the poor sap who’d discarded it and hauling himin.
Licking the last of the pastry frosting from his fingers, he reached for a napkin, looking idly out the window while he wiped his fingers. He froze. The street beyond the sidewalk outside was busy. But there was a van very much like his pulled to a stop beside the opposite curb. A patrol car, lights still flashing, was parked behind it, and a uniformed officer was approaching the driver’swindow.
His heart beat faster. Coincidence? He might have thought so had he not passed a similar scene on his way back to Halifax yesterday. He couldn’t afford to ignore the possibility that the police might have a description of hisvan.
How? There was no way to know. But he hadn’t remained free this long by ignoring warning signs such as these. He’d been spooked when Simard had looked right at him when he’d been surveilling the man. He’d seemed to recognize Anis despite the simple disguise he’d been wearing. After that, he’d rented a car and started adopting a differentappearance.
Now those precautions appeared serendipitous. A signal of the Lord’s hand directing hisactions.
He’d have to leave the van behind when he left Nova Scotia. The thought was accompanied by a pang, one he immediately shoved aside. He’d salvage the contents he could carry in the car, but he’d burn the Econoline and the magnetic signs he’d used on it, destroying any chance the police could get evidence from the vehicle even if they happened tolook.
How long had they had the description of the van? Perhaps remaining in the province longer than he normally would had saved him from detection. If so, he had Alexa Hayden to thank forthat.
Alexa. He picked up his cup, drank slowly. It was her job to try to understand him, and yes, that gave him a thrill. Now he understood her, as well. While it was disappointing that she’d rejected a solid godly upbringing, he was used to discovering that the most innocent facades masked hideous sinners. He was prepared to offer her a chance at redemption. Plans to that end were already taking shape. She’d be wise to take the opportunity he’d offer. For penance. Forpeace.
Because if she didn’t… He drained his cup. Set it down and got up from the table. If she refused the light, he’d have no choice but to condemn her todarkness.