She planned to move on, Liz realized, sickened. Planned to start all over somewhere else. Liz turned to Valentine Lopez. “And you? You have a fabulous future all mapped out as well?”

He smiled. “I’m so traumatized from having to kill my best friend, I leave police work and Key West behind forever.”

Tears of frustration stung her eyes. How could they fight these monsters? They had nothing to fight them with, not even fear of being caught.

“Tell me,” Heather murmured, “did you have any idea your sister was so stubborn? That she would rather die than denounce Him?”

“Yes,” Liz replied, lifting her chin, proud of her sister and her unshakable faith.

“However, the question of the hour is, will the good pastor rather see you die than to deny Him?”

“Why do you care?” Liz retorted, forcing bravado. “Her faith has nothing to do with you.”

Heather laughed, the sound deep, grotesque. “That’s where you’re wrong, my dear. It has everything to do with me.”

From the corner of her eye, Liz saw Rick struggling against his ropes. Beyond him she saw the body of the slain officer. She shifted her gaze to the officer’s holster and gun.

Rick followed the direction of her gaze, then met hers again. He nodded, the movement of his head almost imperceptible.

He was going to do his best to get the gun.

“Smelling salts, Val. We can’t have the good pastor passing out before the main event.”

Val crossed to Rachel and waved the vial under her nose. Her head snapped up.

“Who did it?” Liz demanded in an attempt to buy time and keep Heather’s and Val’s attention diverted from Rick. “Which one of you sick bastards killed Tara and the others? Or was it a team effort?”

“I had the honors,” Heather murmured, her face changing subtly, shifting from beautiful to horrific. “Unlike my darling Gavin, Valentine doesn’t have the stomach for the knife. And it’s something I enjoy.”

Liz swallowed against the bile that rose in her throat. “What are you?”

Heather grinned, the curving of her mouth serpentine in the flickering candlelight. “A defiler of paradise…the snake in the apple tree. A soul collector.

“It’s so easy these days. What do you think worshiping money, power and beauty is? What is the pursuit of earthly pleasures but a turning away from God? Pride. Envy. Lust. Avarice. Sloth. Anger. Gluttony. They’re a girl’s best friend.” She giggled suddenly, the girlish sound bizarre. “Who am I? I’m a devil for the new millennium.”

“You’re insane.”

“Am I? Or do you just hope I am?”

A brilliant flash of lightning momentarily illuminated the church; thunder shook the building. Heather turned to Val. “It’s show time.”

“No!” Rick shouted, struggling to free himself.

Heather grabbed Liz from behind and dragged her back against her chest, her grip surprisingly strong. She brought the knife to her throat. “Deny Him!” she screamed. “Deny Him and I’ll spare your sister’s life!”

“Don’t do it, Rachel!” Liz shouted. “She’ll kill us anyway!”

Outside, the storm kicked into high gear. The heavens opened up; rain lashed against the building.

Liz felt Heather tense, preparing to strike. The blade burned her throat as it penetrated the skin. Liz went light-headed with terror.

“If he is truly Lord and Savior, let Him help you now!”

Rick threw himself toward the fallen officer. Val shouted a warning to Heather; he took aim at Rick. Liz screamed. A figure leaped from the choir loft.

Mark! Liz realized.

He landed on Val. They went down. The gun went off. She couldn’t tell if either of the men had been hurt. For one instant, the earth stood still, then Mother Nature unleashed her full power. Thunder shook the sanctuary. The window burst into Technicolor glory. A huge crack rent the air.

The window exploded inward as the ancient banyan tree outside it crashed through. Shards of colored glass spewed into the sanctuary.

“Cover your face!” Rick shouted.

A high scream of pain shattered the moment. Heather released Liz, and she stumbled sideways against the altar. Liz saw that a piece of glass had imbedded itself in the back of Heather’s neck. The woman clawed at it, the knife slipping from her hands.

Liz dived for the knife. Heather got to it first, caught her and dragged her back. Liz fought and kicked. A second gunshot rent the air. The bullet whizzed past her head.

Mark, Liz saw. On his knees, Valentine Lopez’s gun in his shaking hands. The lieutenant lay unmoving, half of his head blown away.

“Get away from her!” Mark shouted, pointing the weapon at Heather.

Heather reared up, her face contorted with hate. Blood streamed from her hand. She drew back the knife. Mark pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

The chamber was empty.

Rick cried out her name. Liz was aware of him dragging himself toward the fallen officer. He wouldn’t make it, she knew. It was over already.

Heather laughed. Thunder shook the sanctuary. A deep groan trembled across the floor, followed by a loud crack. Heather turned. The crucifix swayed slightly. Her face went white, then blank. She threw her arms up.

In the next instant, the crucifix toppled, crushing Heather beneath it.

Friday, November 23

11:00 a.m.

Liz sat beside her sister’s hospital bed. Sunlight streamed through the window, creating bright patches on the white bedding. The storm had passed, leaving Key West only slightly worse for wear. Once again, paradise had been saved.

The city and her citizens had begun to clean up. Repairing the damages. Clearing away the debris. Moving on.

Liz glanced from the window to her sister. Rachel slept. She had been moved from intensive care just that morning. Liz drank in her sister’s face, throat tight with tears of happiness. She’d thought she would never see her again. Never be able to hold her, laugh with her-never be able to tell her how much she loved her.

She had been given a gift so precious her heart could hardly hold the joy of it.

The color had begun to return to Rachel’s cheeks. Liz, it turned out, had accurately diagnosed her sister’s symptoms: heatstroke, dehydration and malnourishment. She had also suffered some secondary infection caused by untreated wounds.

The doctor had proclaimed Rachel a lucky woman. It was a miracle her kidneys hadn’t shut down. That she hadn’t slipped into a coma and died. Liz, he believed, had arrived in the nick of time. An hour later may have been too late.

Lucky to be alive, Liz thought. They were all lucky to be alive. Gratitude swelled in her chest. Thankfulness. She would never take life or those she loved for granted again. Would never take God’s grace for granted again.

For by what else had her, Rick’s and Rachel’s lives been spared?

“How is she?”

Liz glanced over her shoulder. Rick stood in the open doorway. She smiled. “Good. The doctor’s amazed by how she’s responded.”

“It’s a miracle she’s alive.”

“I was just thinking that.” She shifted her gaze to the white paper sack he carried. “Please tell me that’s something to eat. Something that didn’t come from the hospital cafeteria.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “ Turkey sandwich from the Green Parrot. Dressed with cranberry sauce. Happy day after Thanksgiving, Liz.”

He crossed to the bed, bent and kissed her. So much to give thanks for, she thought. So many blessings.

“I just left a meeting with the chief,” he said, setting the bag on the bed table.

She searched his gaze. “And?”

“And…the loss of Carla and Lopez has left a huge hole in the department. He needs somebody with experience. Someone familiar with Key West and all her idiosyncrasies.”

And a local hero, Liz thought. Someone who had been wronged by Valentine Lopez but didn’t hold the police department liable.