Ten Plagues

He reached for it and almost answered before Keren snatched the phone out of his hands. “Do this right.” Her voice was husky, but her thinking was still functional.

Paul shook his head as if to clear it then nodded as he fumbled for his second cell phone. He speed-dialed Higgins. Higgins set up the trace and began to track down the caller ID number. Keren worked on the recorder buttons and was waiting when Paul said, “Higgins is ready to triangulate.”

She nodded. “I’m ready, too. Go.”

Paul answered his phone.

“Hello, Reverend. Have you missed me?”

Keren’s phone beeped. Seeing Higgins’s number, she switched to him.

Higgins hissed, “He’s not on a cell. It’s a landline. We need more time to trace it.”

Keren mouthed to Paul, Keep him talking. She switched back to Caldwell’s call.

Paul’s eyes flashed with understanding. “No, I can’t say that I have, Francis. I would’ve preferred it if I never heard your voice again.”

“You don’t seem to have the correct attitude, Reverend,” Caldwell purred. “I’ve decided that’s my fault. I faltered for a time when I chose my victims.”

“All of this is your fault.”

“Put the pretty detective on, please.”

“What are you talking about, Francis? You called me, so you talk to me.”

“She’s standing right beside you. She’s wearing a tacky, ill-fitting brown blazer. Are you listening, Kerenhappuch? Brown really isn’t your color. With all that flyaway brown hair, you look like something dirty.”

Keren looked up sharply at the mission’s front window. She looked at Paul, and they both nodded. Caldwell was watching them, looking in this window.

She touched her hair then pulled her hand away and pushed MUTE OFF on her cell.

Paul grabbed for her phone, shaking his head.

Keren dodged him. “All right, I’m here, Francis. I can’t thank you enough for the fashion advice.”

“I just wanted to let you know you’re next, pretty girl. You’re my choice for the plague of darkness.”

Keren felt a cold chill crawl up her spine, but she didn’t let so much as a breath of it sound when she responded. “You’ll never try for me, Caldwell. You pick on defenseless women. You wait until their backs are turned and grab them.”

“They come willingly every time, Kerenhappuch.”

“I’m sure Melody Fredericks came willingly.” Keren’s voice dripped with disdain. “And Talking Bertha, a homeless woman who couldn’t even be convinced to stay in the mission overnight, came willingly with you. Hah.”

“I honor a woman when I choose her, and they all know it by the time I’m done.”

Keren remembered that she’d thought the time might come when she’d have to offer herself up as bait to catch Caldwell. That time was now, and she was ready. “Guess what? I think you’re a lousy artist, Pravus. And I think you’re too much of a coward to ever come for me. I think you’re an insect. That’s why you’re obsessed with acting out this pathetic version of the plagues of Egypt. You see yourself in creepy, crawly things.”

“Like locusts?” Caldwell suggested.

Keren looked up at Paul and their eyes met. Keren glanced at her watch.

“Why have you called, Pravus?” Paul asked. “What stupid, cowardly thing have you done this time?”

“This time?”

A high-pitched scream nearly slit Keren’s eardrum. She jerked the phone away. The sound was quickly muffled, but they could still hear it. The pain, the terror. Keren felt tears burn her eyes. They had to find him! They had to stop him!

“No screaming, my dear. No one pays attention to such things in this neighborhood, but still, I must ask you to refrain, or I won’t let you talk to your precious Pastor P.”

The voice returned, and, through broken sobs, they both heard, “Pastor P? He told me you sent him. I believed him. It’s—” Her voice was cut off.

“Rosita?” Paul shouted. “Rosita, is that you?”

Color drained from Paul’s face, to be replaced with sheer terror. He clutched the phone until Keren was afraid he’d snap it in two.

“Of course it’s her. I took someone precious to you. Someone to get you involved again. Perhaps, when the plagues are over, I’ll just start at one again. The plague of blood. Oh, but wait, who will I call? You’ll be dead, Reverend.”

“Let me talk to Rosita. Put her back on.”

Rosita continued crying in pain.

Caldwell crooned, “The only reason I’d let her talk is so you could hear her scream. Is that what you want, Reverend? Do you want me to make her scream?”

“No! Stop! Please, don’t.” In anguish Paul cried out, “Rosita!”

“Pestis ex locusta. Intriguing, isn’t it? I think, instead of letting her provide the paint for my work, I’m going to cut her open and fill her belly with them while she’s still alive.”

The muted screams increased. Paul covered his eyes with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. Keren saw tears seeping out from under his fingers.

“It worked didn’t it, Reverend?” Caldwell crooned. “You’re involved again.”

“It worked, Caldwell,” Paul said furiously. “I’m back in.”

The phone cut off. It wasn’t long enough. Keren slapped her phone shut with a growl of rage.