Bad Preacher 3c4z57

BAD PREACHER

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DEBORAH STOCKWELL

Table of Contents

Title Page

Bad Preacher

The man led the young woman by the hand past the dunes and toward the edge of the shoreline. The beach air felt cold and clear, stars faintly visible through the backwash of the Los Angeles illumination. The moon hung low and reflected majestically off the beach water. “Looks like a painting,” the young woman said as they looked out into the ocean. “God's handiwork,” the man said. “It was made for us. But I want to show you something.” He turned around and pointed at their footsteps in the sand. “You see that?” “What?” she asked. “You ever see that meme where it shows one set of footprints in the sand?” “Yeah,” the young woman said. “That one where God asks tells us that when you see only one set of footprints then it was me that was carrying you.” “I hate that meme,” the man said. “You see, Lucy, most people really miss the point of that meme. God wants us to be in a relationship with him. He knows that our family and friends will often fail to meet our expectations.” “Isn't that the truth.” “He is the truth,” the man said, now facing Lucy. He placed his hands on both of her shoulders. “I really should go,” Lucy said looking back at the fading campfire beyond the dunes. “Go without meeting Jesus?” “What?” “What if I told you that you could have a relationship with Christ. That you could meet him here, tonight.” “Been there, done that,” Lucy said. “My whole family were Christians. That is

what I ran away from.” “There's nothing for you here,” the man said. “Those people that you found here. They are just going to pinball from detox to rehab to church and back on the streets to repeat the cycle. Whatever humanity they have just dissolves into a greasy residue. But you, you are an angel. Do you believe that?” Lucy shrugged her shoulders. “Close your eyes,” the man said. Lucy hesitated before complying. “Do you hear that? The waves from the ocean. That's God talking to us. Listen.” The two stood in silence as the waves hit the shoreline. A seagull could be heard in the distance. “He talks to us through nature,” the man said. “Do you hear it?” “Yes.” “Do you want to meet Jesus? Tonight?” “Sure.” “Because wants to meet you,” the man said, placing his hands on Lucy's neck. “He wants to save you from all the suffering. Past, present and future.” His hands now firm around her neck, he began to squeeze. “Shhh,” he said as Lucy struggled. “Just listen to his voice.” She looked up at him and squirmed in his grasp. Her eyes full of fear, full of pain and shock. “Listen,” he said, squeezing harder. “And welcome your salvation.”

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The gold cross on Ellie's neck sparkled as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. The harsh glare of the bathroom lamp making her look older than her actual years. Then she closed her eyes. She imagined the faceless figure dragging the dead girl to the beach. He removed their shirt and bra. Then he would carve a crucifix into their skin, slicing down from their neck to the belly button. One more slice just under the breast, all done with a surgeon's precision. That's all she had to go on. No DNA, fingerprints, nothing. Just the end result. The end result that she had to play again and again in her head looking for some clue as to who the killer could be. Ellie came out of the bathroom and the noise hit her like a freight train. How could she or anyone else concentrate? Detectives tapped away at computers and talked in frantic voices. They hurried back and forth between their desks and the shared printer. Chief of Police Franklin Creed slammed the door open as he walked in. “We've got another victim,” he said, his voice almost resigned. Silence fell for a moment as the officers and staff allowed his words to sink in. Then the activity started up again in unison, the keystrokes, and voices louder now with a heightened sense of urgency. As the noise level rose, Ellie bounced out of her seat and strode purposefully towards the door. Paul, her partner, was a step or two ahead of her as they entered the chief’s office. “Another runaway,” Creed said the two without even looking up. “She was eighteen but I'm not calling her homeless. She was a runaway. Blonde. Slim. Same MO.” He slammed both his hands on the desk and Ellie flinched.

“Jesus Fucking Christ. What are standing around here for? Show me something.” “We’re on it,” said Ellie as she turned and left the office. She didn’t have to turn around to know Paul was right behind her. They quickly signed a patrol car out and drove through town towards the beach where the majority of the homeless in town congregated. They had questions and had to get some answers. Fast. Elle had never imagined her beach town could be home to a serial killer. Someone who had killed over five women with not one trace of evidence. The situation felt like something out of a thriller movie. The serial killer left behind nothing but a dead body. Usually, they would have something to go on. A strand of hair. Body fluids. Footprint or fingerprint. They had nothing. Elle thought they should nickname him the “Nothing Man.” His victims were runaways. Invariably, they would find solace in the various homeless encampments around the area. At the scene of the first murder, the SOCO team had found thirty-one different blood samples and fourteen different semen samples. None of the samples matched to anyone on record. He knew exactly which girls to target. Which girls were new to the area and wouldn't be missed immediately. The only eyewitnesses were her fellow runaways and homeless men. They were all suspicious of the police and refused to talk. The few that did talk told Ellie one off-the-wall story after another. One side the killer was a vampire. The other called him a werewolf. Ellie sighed in frustration as these thoughts ricocheted through her head. Ellie and Paul parked the patrol car and walked along the promenade. They were headed for the east end of the beach, nicknamed “beach bum park” for the amount of homeless people that set up tents there. A crowd of reporters and nosy civilians congregated around the encampment.

Ellie ducked under the crime scene tape and made a bee-line for Craig, the SOCO team member that she always went to for information. “Find anything?” “Nothing stands out,” Craig held up a half-filled white bag of evidence. “But we'll see.” “Alright, let's talk to these fuckers,” said Paul. She sighed and followed Paul toward the dunes where she saw a pair of homeless men peering out at the scene through their tents. “Yet another exercise in futility,” Ellie said. “You have to look at it as entertainment. Last time they said it was a vampire. Not the Twilight kind but the old school Christopher Lee kind. Maybe today they'll say it was a pink alien.” They traipsed through the remains of a campfire. Empty bottles, pizza-stained paper plates, and a used condom did little to make Ellie feel at home. A shriveled old woman stepped in front of them. She looked about three hundred years old and stood maybe four-feet-ten at the most. Streaks of dirt covered her straggly white hair, clothes and caked inside the wrinkles on her face. “Hello,” Ellie said. The woman craned her neck up from her stooped posture, looking up at the female police officer. “Did you see anything last night, ma'am?” Paul asked. The old woman’s cracked lips pulled back in a toothless grin and she cackled, looking at Ellie up and down. “You're a fit piece of ass,” she said, stepping closer to Ellie. “Can I help you?” Ellie asked. “Can you help me?” the milky eyes of the old woman looked up to the sky then

down again. “Maybe. Maybe not. Probably not. I think not. But can I help you? Maybe. Maybe not. Probably I can. Yes, I think I can.” Ellie sighed, dismissing the woman as crazy. “Excuse us.” “Don’t you want to know what I saw? See-saw. See-saw.” The old woman moved her arms up and down at her sides, mimicking a see-saw as she said the last few words. “We're listening.” “Saw that young girl gets dragged into the open I did. He opened her up. Opened her up. Out in the open, he opened her up.” She cackled again and did a twirl, followed by an awkward curtsy. “He thought no one saw. See-saw. See-saw. He thought no one saw. Ol’ Mary did see, she did see, she did see. Ol’ Mary she saw. See-saw. See-saw.” Ellie felt a chill go down her spine and goose bumps popped up on her arms despite the growing heat of the sun. The investigation team had found out that the bodies were being dragged down to the beach from different locations within the dunes. They were already dead, but they weren’t mutilated until they reached the beach. This crazy old woman may have some credibility after all. “Follow me,” the old woman said, walking faster than her frail body would seem to allow her. “Follow me. Follow the leader, that is me. Save your souls before it’s too late. Roll up, roll up.” Ellie and Paul looked at each other with raised eyebrows. “Like we have something better to do,” Paul said as he proceeded to follow the woman. And the old lady started to move damn fast. Paul and Ellie had to hurry their steps to keep up as she went further into the dunes.

“How much far do we have to go?” Paul called out. “Far is near and near is far. He can hear wherever we are,” the old woman said in a sing-song voice. Ellie rolled her eyes and took the lead from Paul as they climbed up and down the dunes. “If this is a waste of time I'm going to be so fucking pissed.” “Never a waste,” the old woman said, turning around. “Never a waste. How can we waste what we haven’t really got? Follow me to save their souls from the preacher. Not long to go, go, go. Not long to go. Follow me. Follow me. Follow me more.” “Where are we going?” Paul asked, losing patience. “Just tell us what you know.” “Ol’ Mary ain’t no snitch. A snitch in a stitch. A stitch in a snitch.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, the sing-song tone gone. “The dunes have ears, so they do. The preacher preaches and Ol’ Mary listens.” As she spoke, she used her right index finger to draw a crucifix shape on the front of her body. Without another word, she turned and walked away. Ellie turned to Paul and saw her own confusion mirrored in his expression. “The Preacher?” Ellie whispered. “Tea?” Old Mary offered, pointing to a small, bashed up tin hanging over an unlit fire. “No, thanks,” Ellie said. “As you wish. Please sit.” They sat side by side on the sand opposite her. “Tell us everything,” Ellie said. “Firstly,” said Old Mary, all signs of the crazy woman gone, and a perfectly

normal-seeming old lady in her place, “let me apologize for the crazy act. It helps me get by. People are less likely to set upon you if they think you have a screw loose. Out here, you do what you can to get by.” Ellie nodded sympathetically. Old Mary continued. “At first, I wasn’t going to talk to you. It seems to bring trouble. As you can see, I live in this big dysfunctional machine. Every day the city spits out homeless people like vending machine spits out snack chips. But I can’t sit by and let another young girl die.” “Tell us what you know.” “There was this man. He made friends with a few of runaways here. Talked to them and they seemed to hang on his every word after an hour or so.” “He didn't seem sinister. They got up and left with him. But the next day they turned up dead on the beach.” “Last night, I saw him talking to Lisa. That’s your dead girl’s name, or at least the name she went by. She came here hoping to become an actress like most all of them do. I saw him talking to her and I called her away from him. I asked her where she was going and she told me that she was going to get saved. The man she was talking to was a minister somewhere, and he had offered her a place in a homeless shelter he was involved with. She would get a bed and basic meals, and in return, she would do some cleaning work in the church.” “What church? The old lady held up her hand as if to say I'm not finished. “She was so excited to be getting away from the camp. I tried to talk her out of it, I told her he was dangerous but she wouldn’t listen.” “Then what did you do?” “I followed them. As they got close to the beach, he grabbed her, putting his hand across her mouth. She struggled but he was too strong. I was too scared to

intervene. I thought he was just keeping her quiet, but when he left to go, she dropped to the floor, no signs of life.” “He turned and saw me. I ran and managed to lose him. I came back not long before your boys turned up and went to her body. Her blouse was buttoned up wrong. It seems stupid, but I thought it wasn’t dignified. Even living out here, Lisa had pride in her appearance, as much as you can when you haven’t bathed in weeks.” “I opened her blouse, intending to button it back up correctly and that’s when I saw the cross shape he’d carved into her. Did he, you know, rape her?” Paul shook his head, not affirming the accusation but moreso dismissing her right to ask. “Did you get a good look at him?” “Good enough.” “Could you identify him?” “I don't want to be see going with you guys,” she said. “Just ride me over in a separate car when you catch him.” “We need to know what he looked like,” Ellie said. Old Mary pointed at Paul. “He was about his height. Skinny. Every time I’ve seen him, he’s been dressed all in black. He’s definitely not one of us. He’s far too clean. He has jet black hair. Slicked back like he's Dracula or something. And he has a big scar on his left cheek.” “Thank you, you’ve been really helpful,” Ellie said as they stood to leave. “Is there anything we can do for you?” “Just catch that monster before he hurts anyone else. And kill him. Don't let any Christian sentiments get in your way. If God had anything to say about what was happening, He kept it to himself. You bring him to justice.” Ellie nodded. “We intend to.” As they reached the edge of the clearing, Old Mary called out “Hey.”

They turned back to her and she continued. “You be careful girl; you have a look that he seems to like. Small, dainty, blonde. I’d bet all the girls had that look about them.”

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“It is the only way,” Ellie said, pacing back and forth. “You know I'm right.” “I don’t know Ellie,” Paul said. “I think it’s too dangerous.” “That's what we get paid for,” Ellie sniffed. “You'll back me up and you'll have back up. Those girls didn't have cops watching their backs. I will.” Chief Creed sighed hard. Ellie took that as a good sign. “You sure?” Creed asked. Ellie nodded. “Even if said 'no' you would do it anyway,” Creed said. “Do it.”

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Ellie studied herself in the mirror. The gardening jeans were a nice touch. They were ripped near her ass and had a dirty look from grass stains that never washed out. She bought a man's button down shirt, a size too big for her. She swirled a wet tea bag along the back to give the shirt a mottled look. She had combed back her hair into a tangled mess and added a leaf or two for

good measure. Her face was streaked with dirt set atop a thin layer of gray eyeshadow giving her a dirty look. She has applied the eyeshadow more thickly under her eyes, making them look sunken. “Welcome to the Walking Dead,” she whispered, almost laughing. Then she ripped a button off the shirt for a finishing touch. She looked at herself critically and smiled with satisfaction. Like the Walking Dead, the killings happened Sunday night. Only this time, he had an undercover cop to deal with. A car honked outside and her cell phone buzzed. Paul. Ellie hurried downstairs and into his waiting vehicle. She put her keys in his glove compartment. “Yeah, having keys to a late model Mustang would definitely blow your cover,” Paul said. “What do you think?” “I think you look like a zombie.” “Is that good or bad?” Paul didn't answer. He shook his head in response as he headed toward the promenade. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I know we're all doing our jobs,” Paul said. “And you're doing yours. But this dude, this dude is real different. He knows exactly what he's doing. I'm surprised the Feds haven't taken over this investigation yet.” “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she laughed. She expected him to laugh too but he didn’t. “It’s not funny. It’s dangerous. Ellie, you have nothing to prove. You don’t have

to do this.” “I’m not trying to prove anything,” she said. “I never liked using female cops as bait in situations like this.” “Look, this whole thing will be over in a couple of hours and with a bit of luck, that monster will be behind bars where he belongs. Or maybe he won’t even show up at all.” She knew that last part wasn’t true. He would show up. This guy had an urge to kill. A need that had to be satiated. “Just because I worry about you,” Paul said. “Doesn't mean that I don't believe in you.” Paul parked the car and took his seat belt off, but made no move to leave the car. She took hers off too and waited for him to say something. After what seemed like a long time, he took her hand in his and looked her in the eye. “Promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t do anything stupid that puts you in danger.” “Ok,” she said. “No. Promise me.” His face was serious, strained. “Alright,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. He squeezed back then released her hand. “Come on then, zombie girl,” Paul said as they got out of the car. They walked around the corner and entered the white van parked under a broken streetlamp. Inside, they found Chief Creed and their surveillance specialist. “Nice,” Ernie said, a technician with bifocal glasses and a hearing aid. Ellie always thought that he looked like an old version of Urkel from the television show “Family Matters.” “Why thank you, kind sir,” she laughed and fluttered her eyelashes.

“Let’s get you kitted out,” Ernie said as he opened the top button of her shirt and clipped a small microphone to her bra. He then ran the wire around her back where he secured a small black box to her waistband. “Say something,” Ernie said as he sat back over at the controls. “Something.” He adjusted the microphone on Ellie's bra then sat back down. “Are you enjoying yourself,” Ellie asked. “You can trust me,” Ernie said. “I'm professional. And gay. Say it again." "Testing. One. Two. Three." “Perfect,” Ernie said. “Chief?” Ellie buttoned her shirt back up and turned to Creed. “No gun?” Creed asked. “Really?” “It could blow my cover.” “It wouldn't be out of the ordinary for a runaway to have a gun.” “A little Saturday night special, yes. But a police department issued thirty-eight caliber? No.” Creed sighed again, looking out the window into the darkness. “We got your back out there,” Creed said, lowering his voice to Ellie in a way he never had before. He sounded scared. “I know you do.” “Ok, we have a full squad out there. Some are undercover as other vagrants. Some are hiding in various locations around the beach and dunes. Paul will never be far from you although you won’t see him. He will be armed, as will the rest of the team. We can hear you at all times through your microphone. If at any point, you feel in danger, you only have to say the word and we will be there in

seconds. Do you understand everything?” Ellie nodded. “The key thing to is that this guy is looking for someone vulnerable. Someone he can talk up. Someone gullible who'll go for whatever he's trying to sell. You gotta seem naïve.” “I've known a lot of girls like that growing up,” Ellie said. “I can play the part.” “We have to catch him doing more than just talking to you,” Creed said. “Agree to whatever he proposes and go with him. Paul will be tailing you both.” Creed turned to Paul, deepening his voice. “Paul, at the point the situation becomes dangerous, not a minute sooner, you arrest him. All clear?” “Yessir,” they answered in unison. “Good. Any questions?” They both shook their heads. They had five minutes before they were to set off. Ellie would go first, followed by Paul. Once they were on the beach, they couldn’t risk being spotted together. “Cigarette?” Paul asked her. “Sure,” Ellie said as they stepped behind the van. They smoked in friendly silence for a while. “Let’s go,” she said as she dropped her cigarette and stood on it. “I’ll go round the front end of the van; you go to the back end.” She started to walk away, and he grabbed her shoulder, spun her around and kissed her. He pulled her close and she clung to him, kissing him back. “That was a long time coming,” Paul said. She looked into his eyes and realized she had loved him for a long time. Everyone on the force and the public saw him as a cipher. Another faceless cop that served only as a function when needed. She really saw Paul and he saw her.

They mattered to each other. Finally, they broke apart and walked to opposite ends of the van without a word. Ellie felt cold and her heart started to race. She could tell if her anxiety came from meeting a serial killer or from finally kissing Paul. She entered the dunes and walked around. “Just look like your normal runaway,” Creed said. After walking around for about half an hour with no sight of him, she had been sexually propositioned twice by two different homeless men, one had been drunk, the other toothless and drunk. Sex offenders now out on the street, still scavenging to find a victim, slump-shouldered and leering. She stumbled into another clearing, creeped out as she imagined their crimes. Then she saw him. Just like Old Mary had described. He had the same build and height as Paul. A skinny man dressed in all black. She felt her mouth going dry. Time to focus, she told herself. Ellie bit down hard on her tongue and felt the tears spring into her eyes. Walking with her head down, she stumbled into the man. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she attempted to around him. “Hey, wait,” he said. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” she said as she looked down at the ground again. She hoped her voice sounded tearful enough. The man scooted in front of her and lifted her chin, making her look at him. “Something is wrong,” he said. “I, I got lost,” she said. “I can’t find where I left my backpack, and then a man started following me and saying he was going to do all these horrible things to

me. I wish I’d never come here.” Ellie managed to fight back a few tears. “It’s okay,” the man said. “You're safe now. What’s a nice girl like you doing sleeping rough?” “I came out here to be an actress,” Ellie said. “I had an audition and I got told I had the part and they were renting me a room. Only, at the end of the week, the room didn’t get paid for and the producer had vanished. His phone number didn’t work. I had to pay for the room with the only money I had. My mom and I are on the outs. Didn't care if I came out here or not. Now I'm stranded.” “Lemme help,” the man said. “I can get you in with social services.” “I don’t know,” she said. “You can trust me,” he said, holding up his hands, palms out as if to placate her. He looked harmless, Ellie thought. That is how he got so many girls. “Okay,” she said and sat down in the sand. He sat beside her, keeping enough distance between them that she wouldn’t have been uncomfortable if she hadn’t have known who he was. “You don’t look like you belong here yourself,” she said. “I don’t really. I was looking for someone.” “Who?” she asked. “My brother. He’s ill and he forgot to take his meds again. I followed him to the edge of the dunes then I lost him. It’s like a maze in here.” This surprised Ellie. She had expected him to talk about saving her soul or getting her off the streets. “I hope he’s okay,” she said. “I’m sure he will be,” the man said. “Once he takes his meds, he’ll be back to his normal self pretty quickly.”

“What does he look like? I might have seen him.” “Like me,” the man smiled. “People always said we could be twins but he’s actually a couple of years younger than me. I’m David by the way. David Wesley.” He offered his hand. “I’m Ellie.” She could have kicked herself for giving him her real name. Those other girls must have thought he was their guardian angel. They hadn’t stood a chance. “Well, Ellie, I have to continue my search. You’re welcome to walk with me. If not, I can come back tomorrow morning and take you to social services.” “Thanks,” she said. He stood up and taking her hand, he helped her to her feet. “I grew up down the road from here,” David said. “People just don't want to move away from California. I got married a few years back and finally left. I still miss it. Although seeing it now so many years removed it feels like a completely different place. Didn't really want to come back but again, my brother's doctor called me.” “Why would he call you instead of your brother calling?” “It's complicated.” “I like complicated,” Ellie said with a sweet smile. “My brother Steven has a history of mental illness. He hears voices although he is convinced that those voices are coming from up on high. Part of our upbringing. Our father was the pastor at the Hillview Baptist church down the road. Maybe neither here nor there but when Steven is off his meds he thinks that Jesus talks to him. He thinks that if he hurts someone, he's saving them.” “How does he hurt people?” “You don't want to know,” David said. “I mean when he takes his meds, he’s fine, but without them, the doctors are worried he might be dangerous. I’d never

forgive myself if I didn’t even try to help him. I spoke to his neighbor who told me every Sunday after church he comes down here.” “I'm sorry to hear all that,” Ellie said. “I hope you find him.” “Me too.” They walked in silence. She ed Old Mary telling her that he had a scar. Ellie didn't see one on David. Maybe his brother did the killings. Maybe he didn't have a brother. She needed more information. Then he moved quickly behind her. She felt his right hand over her mouth before she could scream then his left arm constricted around her waist in a vice-like grip. Ellie struggled but David had the strength of an athlete. “Don't fight me,” he whispered. “I don’t want to hurt you. Please don't fight me.” Ellie stopped struggling. She couldn't believe his physical strength. Instead, she knew that Paul and the team would arrive any second. Then she felt his gun pressing into her back. “I'm going to take my hand off your mouth,” he wheezed. “Then you're are going to do exactly what I say. Okay?” Ellie nodded. He removed his hand and pushed her to the ground. “Sit there. If you try to run, I’ll shoot.” “Why are you doing this?” “It can’t hurt to tell you the rest I suppose. I really am David and my brother really is Steven. The part about his mental illness and the doctor calling me is true too. I came back, but his illness is so much worse than I ed. He refused to take his meds.” “I talked to him, tried to make him see reason. He couldn’t understand what I

was telling him. He is convinced he’s a messenger of the Lord and that Jesus is telling him to do certain things.” “What things?” “He is convinced that there are angels in the town. Angels disguised as lost young women. He believes his purpose is to rescue those angels. He goes out every Sunday and finds the next angel. He smothers her and drags her to the beach. Then-” “Then what?” “Then he carves a cross into her body so that her body can be released. Then it can enter the sea and take its true form as an angel. I don’t know why he thinks that, and nothing I said could convince him it wasn’t true.” “But why are you doing this to me?” “Lower your voice,” David hissed. “Just tell me why.” “I left the room for a minute and when I came back, he had my three-year-old daughter at gunpoint. He told me that my daughter needed to be an angel tonight. I begged him to let her go but he wouldn’t. He had a gun and I knew I couldn’t overpower him. He gave me the choice to save her. I had to come here tonight and lure a young blonde woman to his home and he would free my daughter.” “Why didn’t you go to the police?” “Are you a mother?” “No.” “Then you won’t understand. I’m sorry, Ellie. I didn’t want to do this, but I have no choice. My daughter comes first.” “So what happens now?” “You come back with me. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will do anything to save

my daughter. You have to understand that.” Ellie saw a flurry of movement in the bushes behind David. It had to be Paul and the team getting in place to take him down. She had to stall David. “So what are you going to do? Just hand me over to your sick brother?” “He's sick. But he keeps his word. Get on your feet.” Ellie started up. “Police!” the voice boomed out. “Drop your weapon and get your hands in the air.” Ellie rolled to the side, giving her officers a clean shot. David did as he was instructed, tears pouring down his face. “Amyyyyy,” he screamed. “Amy, I’m so sorry I failed you.” Ellie couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. Paul walked into the clearing and approached David. “Sir, your daughter is fine,” Paul said. “The SWAT team has been to your brother’s house. Your brother is in custody and your little girl is safe with the child protection team.” “Oh God,” David said. “Thank you. Thank you.” Paul nodded once and half turned away. Turning back, he said “Oh, and sir? This is for holding my partner at gun point.” His fist flew and David’s nose burst open as he fell to the ground. Paul walked over to Ellie and wrapped her in his arms. “I’m sorry we couldn’t move in sooner,” Paul said. “We had to secure the child out and then wait for the right moment.” “It’s ok, I’m ok,” said Ellie, as he helped her up. “Is the little girl really safe?”

“Yeah,” Paul nodded. Chief Detective Inspector Creed entered the clearing. “So clumsy of you to trip and hit your face like that,” Creed said to David. “Now someone cuff this man up.” Relieved that Paul wouldn’t face a disciplinary hearing, Ellie smiled at the chief. “Good work you two,” Creed said. Now go home and get some rest.” END