Free The Bride Collector by Ted Dekker

course. Unfortunately, the world has taken some of the greatest minds God has given us and locked them up in cages. Most
     very brilliant or creative people seem strange to ordinary people. Geniuses are almost always outcasts. The intelligent are
     bullied on the playground. They see the world differently and are shunned for it. They nearly all turn out to be lonely at
     the least, locked up at the worst. It’s human nature to encourage the status quo and shun those who see life differently.”
    Allison sat on a bench and folded her hands on her lap. “That being said, several of our staff, including myself, were once
     nuns. So, back to your killer. How can I be of assistance?”
    Brad eased down beside her, leaving Nikki to study the residents, who’d become bored with them and resumed their prior activities.
     A man in a blue-striped bathrobe was playing some sort of hopscotch game, enunciating each hop with a “Hup.” Hop. “Hup.” Hop.
     “Hup.”
    The man stopped and pointed at the sky. “And that’s what I’m saying, you bunkered, commonwealth moron! I know when the sky
     is falling and I know how high I can jump!” Then a hop and a “Hup.” This was the man they’d heard from the parking lot.
    “Assuming we’re dealing with an intelligent serial killer who is mentally ill,” Brad said, “and considering his choice of
     wording, we need to look at the possibility that he is somehow connected to the center.”
    “You’re looking for a resident who may have left us and gone off to commit these brutal acts.”
    “Something like that.”
    “A psychotic male who suffers from delusions of grandeur. Someone with a propensity for violence, is that it?”
    “Yes.”
    Allison frowned, thinking. Brad noticed that even with a frown, she seemed to be smiling. “Hundreds have come and gone in
     our seven years here. Most residents leave within six months. Some have stayed longer. A handful have been here since the
     beginning. I can think of only seven or eight who ever showed any violent tendencies.”
    “What about those who might have demonstrated a tendency for regression?” Nikki said.
    “Well, that’s just it. Follow-up is voluntary, naturally, and the illness can grow over time. It’s difficult to predict without…”
    She blinked and faced Brad, eyes bright.
    “Detective work, huh? I think you might like to meet Roudy.”
    “I’m sorry, Roudy?”
    Allison stood, delighted by her own idea. “Of course! Roudy is one of our residents. He is quite the detective. And he’s been
     here since the beginning. He remembers everything about every resident who’s entered our gates.”
    Nikki caught his eye and nodded. “Okay. Sounds promising.”
    Brad wasn’t sure just
how
promising, for Allison seemed more fascinated with subjects in her field of study than in cracking the case. But he could
     see no harm in the notion.
    “Or even better, Paradise,” Allison said, now fully engaged in the notion.
    “Paradise?”
    “Paradise. If you’re fortunate, she might even talk to you. Now, there’s a special one, my friends. She can see what many
     can’t.” Allison started for the round community building between both wings, glancing back as she walked. “You’re going to
     love them, I can promise you that. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

6
    THE HUB, as Allison had referred to the central gathering place, was an atrium with couches, stuffed chairs, snack machines, floral
     paintings on the wall, and two flat plasma televisions glowing manically on opposite walls. Round tables with wooden chairs
     sat in groupings about the large room. A central gas fireplace that, according to Allison, never really got hot, and two snack
     stands completed the area.
    On one end, a sign over an arched door indicated that a cafeteria lay beyond. A wide hallway ran into the other end of the
     building. Out back in the sunlight, a gleaming fishpond was sealed off for the residents’ safety.
    A dozen