Page 85 of Cold Threat

“What did you think of it, River?” Beth asked.

River smiled. “I loved it. I’m really looking forward to seeing it again.”

Tony had seen it many times, but it was one of his favorites, so he was happy to watch it again. Anything that moved the conversation away fromSmooshywas okay with him.

His father took his mother’s hand and led her to the family room, while he, River, and Aimee sliced the sausage, put it out on a large serving plate, along with some of the cheese, and then dumped the chips into a bowl. After that, they put the different dips into his mother’s small crystal snack bowls and stuck spoons in each one.

Aimee took drink orders and got those ready. Once they were finished, they carried everything into the family room and laid it out on the coffee table. Lulu, who was very well trained, didn’t go near the food. Instead, she seemed totally in love with River, only wanting to be near her.

“If she gets to be a pain, tell me,” Aimee said.

“Actually, I love it,” River replied. “If it’s okay with you, I’d love to have her sit near me.”

“I’m fine with it. It gives me a break,” Aimee said with a smile. “But be warned, you may not be able to leave Burlington. I’d hate to break her heart.”

River laughed. “I have a feeling this is a very shallow romance. After I go home, I doubt she’ll think about me at all.”

As the snow fell, they watched the movie about a man who prayed that God would help him build a large church. His answer came in the form of an angel named Dudley, played by Cary Grant. While everyone else seemed glued to the TV, Tony couldn’t stop looking at the large windows in the family room that clearly showed the falling snow. Was the Snowman out there right now, planning to kill someone?

“Help us, God,” he whispered. “We need You.”

CHAPTER

FORTY-EIGHT

After the movie and a rousing game of charades, everyone headed to bed. Once again, River tried to talk Aimee into taking her room, but she wouldn’t hear of it. River finally gave up and headed upstairs. Although things between her and Aimee seemed to have been resolved, River still felt uncomfortable staying in her room.

No matter what, though, she hadn’t changed her mind about keeping Tony away from the Strangler’s apprentice. Aimee was right. She was putting him in danger. It was something she would have to deal with, but right now, her mind was on the Snowman. It was late, and everything was quiet. No calls from the police station yet. Maybe they’d been wrong. Perhaps the Snowman wasn’t going to make his move this year. Was it possible the two-year gap between killings was such a part of his MO that he felt compelled to stick to it? Organized serial killers were often addicted to patterns. If he didn’t strike, they would know they were wrong about thinking he would try to restore his bruised ego. His self-esteem and penchant for delivering justice had led them to believe he would have to reassert his imagined superiority by murdering someone in place of Sandra Cooper. River had never wanted to be wrong more than she did now.

She exchanged her jeans and sweater for sweats and a T-shirt. Then she plopped down on the bed and turned onto her side. She felt tired, but she couldn’t sleep. It was like her body was waiting for something terrible to happen even though she’d told herself she was trusting God. She realized that she needed to pray. She started by asking God to keep the people in Burlington safe. She also found herself asking for wisdom and insight. That was the job of the Holy Spirit, right? She remembered a scripture she’d read. She couldn’t quote it exactly, but it had something to do with the Holy Spirit leading people to the truth. That’s what they needed now.

“Holy Spirit, if there’s something we’re not seeing, will You please show it to us? If You can use us to stop Michael Wilson, we’re willing. Thank You.”

She could hear Tony walk past her door and go to his room. Beth and Ray had already gone to bed, but she was pretty sure Ray was still awake, waiting to hear from the station. He was still convinced the Snowman was out there—planning another murder. At least Chief Munson had promised Ray that they would keep his concerns in mind. But how much good would that do during a major snowstorm? Police resources would be stretched thin. She was amazed that Ray was able to be home tonight. Of course, that didn’t ensure that he wouldn’t be called out as the night went on.

Although River was beginning to feel sleepy, she sat up in bed and reached for the TV remote. If Ray was awake, she felt she should be too. She thought about calling Tony to see if he was just sitting in bed like she was, but she couldn’t do it. What if she was wrong and Ray and Beth were trying to sleep? Although their bedroom was way down at the other end of the hall, she was afraid that Tony’s phone ringing might disturb them. She certainly wasn’t going to his room. That wouldn’t look right. She was fairly confident that Ray and Beth weren’t worried aboutthem in that way, but still, she felt as if she had to make sure she didn’t do anything that might seem inappropriate.

Right before she turned on the TV, she heard an odd noise from somewhere inside the house. Was it from downstairs? The basement? Why did that concern her? If Aimee was still up, it wasn’t her business. So why was her stomach suddenly tied in knots?

She changed her mind about TV. She didn’t feel as if she could concentrate on it right now. She put the remote back on the nightstand and flipped over onto her back. She found herself going over the profile again. Why? It was done. Yet something bothered her. She remembered what Ray had said. As if there was something they weren’t seeing ... that they should.

The next sound she heard almost sounded like a muffled scream. She realized it had come through the heating vent. River got up and knelt down next to it, but after several seconds of silence, she decided she was imagining things. The alarm was set. No one was in the house who shouldn’t be. She stood up and looked around the room, wondering what to do next. She was still on edge. Obviously, it was because of the Snowman. She finally decided to go downstairs and get something to drink. She’d noticed that Beth had chamomile tea. It always helped her to relax. She slid on her slippers and opened the door as quietly as she could. Then she stood in the hallway for several seconds, listening, but the house was still quiet. Finally, she crept down the stairs and walked into an empty kitchen. This wasn’t where the sounds had come from. Maybe Aimee was watching TV downstairs. That would make sense. Chiding herself for being so silly, she opened a cabinet where she’d seen the tea. Sure enough, she found the chamomile amid boxes of other flavors. River put a couple of bags in a cup, then she added some water and placed it inside the microwave. A minute and a half later, her tea was ready to drink. She was on her way back upstairs when she heardanother noise. This time she could tell it was definitely coming from the basement. Maybe she’d go down and check on Aimee.

River put her cup down on the counter and was headed toward the basement door, when she heard someone coming up the stairs. She started to open the door when she realized that whoever was walking upstairs wasn’t Aimee. She’d been wearing soft, slip-on sneakers. Whoever was on the stairs was wearing boots and the footsteps belonged to someone heavier than Aimee.

In that moment, their profile, wondering how the Snowman was getting information, and Michael Wilson’s birthmark all popped into her head like someone was trying to pull the threads of a tapestry together for her. She suddenly realized how stupid she’d been. Ray was right. The answer had been staring them right in the face, but they hadn’t paid attention. Someone else was in the house. The realization shocked her so much, she put her hand over her mouth to muffle her loud gasp.

River hurried back to the kitchen, turned off the light, and started for the stairs. At the last second, she realized she’d never make it. She ran back to the kitchen and quietly slipped into the pantry, slowly closing the door almost all the way, but keeping it cracked open just enough so she could look out. She waited as she heard the basement door open and shut. The nightlights in the hallway and in the kitchen cast a soft glow. A figure crept past her and toward the stairs, where he stopped for a moment. It was hard to see clearly, but the person at the bottom of the stairs confirmed her suspicions. This wasn’t Aimee. Aimee was tall and thin. He was of medium height and build. She didn’t need to see his face. It was Michael Wilson. The Snowman. But why? If he was truly angry with foster parents, why was he here? No one here was a foster parent or had ever been one. Wilson was compelled to follow his pattern. Unless he’d decided he had to stop the detective who might put two and two together andprevent him from carrying out his self-imposed mission. If that was true, they were all in danger.

Wilson stood at the bottom of the stairs without moving. He appeared to be listening. Finally, he began heading toward Tony and his parents. River had to do something. They were unaware that he was coming. River crept out of the pantry, slowly opened a drawer, pulled out a large knife, and then quietly made her way to the bottom of the stairs, where she stopped. For a brief moment, she’d wondered if she should pull out some pots and pans and bang them together to alert everyone upstairs that Wilson was coming. But they’d speculated that he could have a gun. They knew he had some way of intimidating his victims. She couldn’t take the chance that he’d start shooting.

She was hoping to hear something that would tell her just where he was. Then she heard a door open, but the sound was faint. It had to be Ray and Beth’s room. She sent up a quick prayer for help. Taking a deep breath, she climbed the stairs as quickly as she could without making any noise. She hurried to her room and traded the knife for her gun. Then she picked up her phone and dialed 911. The phone rang and rang but no one answered. Calls about the storm were probably clogging the line. She slipped the phone into the back waistband of her sweats and made her way to Tony’s room. She couldn’t risk knocking on the door, so she opened it as quietly as she could. Tony was lying in bed and his eyes were closed. She walked over to him and quickly placed her hand over his mouth, hoping it would keep him quiet until she could explain. But as soon as her hand touched his mouth, he grabbed it and pulled it away. Thankfully, the lamp on his nightstand was on, and he realized who was standing over him.

“Shhh,” she whispered. “Don’t say anything. Someone’s in the house. I think it’s Wilson. He may be in your parents’ room. I think he came from the basement.”

Tony sat up straight in bed, his eyes wide. “Why didn’t you stop him?” he whispered.

“Because I was downstairs getting a cup of tea. For some reason, I didn’t think to arm myself first.”

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