Dead of Night

Dead of Night Copyright © 2005 by Brandilyn Collins Requests for information should be addressed to: Zondervan, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49530 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Collins, Brandilyn. Dead of night / Brandilyn Collins. p. cm. - (The hidden faces series ; bk. 3) ISBN-10: 0-310-25105-2 (softcover) ISBN-13: 978-0-310-2510-7 1. Police artists-Fiction. 2. Women artists-Fiction. I. Title. PS3553.O4747815D43 2004 813'.6-dc22 2005002767 ISBN-13: 978-0-310-25105-7 Published in association with Browne & Miller Literary Associates LLC, 410 South Michigan Ave., Suite 460, Chicago, IL 60605. All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible: New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. The website addresses recommended throughout this book are offered as a resource to you. These websites are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement on the part of Zondervan, nor do we vouch for their content for the life of this book. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other-except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher. Interior design by Beth Shagene Printed in the United States of America 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 /?DCI/ 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Prologue Not so pretty in death, are you. Head twisted, back arched. Contorted mouth, eyes wide in shock, limbs all locked tight. Now your outside looks like your inside-a black soul, an immoral soul, a horrified and horrifying soul, bound for the black pits, the depths of darkness, for eternity, ever and ever on. Skin still warm, clothes all askew, bleached blonde hair tangled around your devious head, fragile wisps caught on your evil tongue. Dead, dead, dead and gone, and who will miss you now? Sit back and look at you, deserving the work of my hands. Look you up and down, your shoes kicked off in the convulsions, wrists bent, fingers curled like the limbs of an arthritic tree, one knee drawn up toward your chest. How hard they fall, the proud and vain and shallow. But... Sweep aside the coarse, white-yellow hair. There it is. Pretty earring. Pretty, pretty bauble, so shiny, with a big blue stone and little white stones around it, playing with the spectrum like shimmery fairies. Put my finger behind your earlobe, move it this way and that, watch the dancing colors catch the light. My earring now, only mine, to keep and smile at and watch it shine. How to take it? It is connected to your ear, right through it. Silly, arrogant woman, piercing holes in your body in the name of beauty. Like her. She was self-absorbed and flirtatious, making eyes at the men, swaying hips and pouting lips, and meanwhile the child saw and was unseen, and no one else knew, and no one else cared, and who would tend the child? Pull. Tug. Rip at the earring, and still it will not come. It latches to your ear like a leech. You defy me, even in death, you shout to me in your silence that you will not be dejeweled, not be robbed of the sparkly outward display of your wretched and gaudy heart. Hurry away,my footsteps scuffing the kitchen floor to grab what I need. I grip the handle, one finger testing the blade. I will take the prize from you, and your yawning mouth will scream in silence, but no one else knows, and no one else cares, and who will tend to you? There. The earring is mine. Hold it close to my eyes. Feel the hardness of the stone with my finger, tip it, turn it, watch thCollins, Brandilyn is the author of 'Dead of Night', published 2005 under ISBN 9780310251057 and ISBN 0310251052.