Dead Man Walking (The Fallen Men #6) - Giana Darling Page 0,148

air out of my lungs, but it was sitting vigil at the hospital while Cleo fought for her life that left me anaemic as if the wound of that tragedy couldn’t or wouldn’t clot.

I bled and bled for her.

It was impossible to feel as if I wasn’t responsible for my best friend getting nearly murdered. As I watched her in a coma in the hospital bed, hearing the news that she’d been stabbed too often in the belly to save her womb, that she would no longer be able to have children even if she survived, it eviscerated me.

The guilt was manageable, mostly, after Priest’s confession and Lion’s speech, but it was the fear that stalked me.

I was more afraid than I have ever conceived of being in my entire life.

I was the little girl who begged to watch rated R horror films, the woman who studied violent crimes and psychopaths in university, who hoped to one day be a criminal profiler.

But there I sat, randomly trembling with bouts of terror that moved through me like ghosts of the women who had already died at the hands of this madman.

Cops were listening in because this entire episode had been an idea they approached me with two days ago, but Lion had them grouped together on the other side of the glass, far enough from me I wouldn’t have to focus on their presence.

I’d been quiet for too long. I needed to find the words I wanted to say, but they lay in graves dug six feet deep in my soul.

Finally, I sighed.

“Hey everyone, I’m Bea Lafayette, and this is another episode of Little Miss Murder. We usually start these episodes with a macabre storytime before we delve into the details of each murderer, their psychological profile, and how they were ultimately found out or brought to justice. Today, I’m going to begin in a slightly different vein by telling you all about a story that has no ending yet.”

I looked over my shoulder to reassure myself with a glance at Priest. He was standing in the back corner beside the chair we’d brought in for him, leaning against the wall while he silently whittled a block of dark wood. The moment I shifted my gaze to him, he looked up, eyes catching mine and tethering my floundering spirit to his so I could find focus.

I took a deep breath.

“For the past few weeks, Entrance has been plagued by the effort of a serial killer the press has dubbed the ‘Prophet of Death’. As you all know, giving serial killers catchy names plays into their psychosis, their need to be seen and acknowledged for their crimes. So, I will not refer to him by this name, but instead simply as ‘the murderer’ or ‘the killer’, so he understands that his violence doesn’t make him unique. It makes him plebeian, one of a score of faceless murderers now caught that the public conscious has forgotten about.”

Lion gave me a thumbs-up through the glass partition. We had gone over my talking notes before, how I would set up the podcast as a live stream in hopes of baiting the murderer into calling or writing in. It was clear to everyone that he was at his breaking point, and he just needed one last push.

Only, I knew what desperate men did when they were about to be pushed off a cliff. They took everyone in their sights with them over the edge.

“This murderer is perverting biblical scripture to his own ends, attempting to craft a story where he is the hero exorcising sinners from our community so that we will all live in a ‘better, more holy’ place. I don’t usually speak about religion on the show, and if you’re sensitive to this subject matter, I understand if you skip ahead or tune out. But I have to say the work of this killer is not the work of the God I know. The God I’ve trusted since I was a child, whom I’ve looked to for guidance over the years and learned about from countless study does not sanctify murder by any means. He teaches us kindness, patience, and peace, even if it must come from forgiveness. This is my God, and I believe this is most Christians’ God. I will not be idle while this murderer seeks to twist the words of a kind God into the mandates of madness.”

I sucked in a deep breath, surprised to see my hand trembling on