Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [125]
He paced in front of her, his hands deep in his pockets, the change noisily keeping his fingers busy.
“That son of a bitch. That’s not what he told me,” he finally said. “But you threw the man out of his own house, Christine.”
“He was fucking his receptionist.”
His face grew scarlet with disapproval. A lady never used such language.
“Sometimes a man strays, Christine. A minor indiscretion. I’m not saying it’s right, but it’s not a reason to throw him out of his own house.”
So there it was. She had suspected his disapproval, but until now neither of her parents had spoken it. Her father’s world was fraught with double standards. She had always known that, had accepted it, kept quiet about it. But this was her life.
“I wonder, would you be this forgiving if I had been the one who had the affair?”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“No. I want to know. Would you have called it a minor indiscretion if I had fucked the UPS man?”
He winced again, and she wondered if it was her language or the image that disgusted him. After all, Tony Morrelli’s little girl didn’t fuck.
“Look, you’re upset, Christine. Why don’t I have one of the guys drive you home?”
She didn’t answer, couldn’t answer over the rage boiling inside. She only nodded, and he escaped.
After a few short minutes the door opened again, and Eddie Gillick came in.
“Your dad asked me to drive you home.”
CHAPTER 77
What an idiot he was, Nick thought as he rammed the Jeep into gear, picking up speed and leaving Platte City behind. He glanced at Maggie sitting quietly next to him. He should have never allowed her to see the weakness, the absolute terror that had taken control of his insides. Despite her revelation about Stucky, she remained in control and composed, staring out at the dark countryside. How did she do it? How did she keep Albert Stucky and all the other horrors carefully tucked away? How did she keep herself from slamming a fist through a wall and shattering glass doors?
He couldn’t think, could barely concentrate on the dark road. The drumming continued in his chest, a persistent pounding, a time bomb ticking off the seconds, each second maybe Timmy’s last.
And through the panic, and maybe because of it, he had almost gone way over the line and told Maggie that he loved her. What an idiot—what a complete idiot he was. Maybe it wasn’t just his virility and charm he was losing. Hell, maybe he was losing his mind, too.
Now sitting here in the quiet dark with Maggie beside him, he felt a sudden strength. He had to be strong for Timmy’s sake, and maybe, just maybe, he could do that as long as he didn’t have to do it alone. Jesus, that was a first—Nick Morrelli might actually need someone?
He could ignore the sick feeling in his gut. He would put the vision of Danny Alverez’s vacant eyes out of his mind. Timmy had to be okay. It couldn’t be too late. He stepped on the accelerator, zigzagging the Jeep over the black highway. Wisps of snow scampered across in spots, but the wind had died down considerably.
“Maybe you should fill me in,” he said, managing to keep the panic from his voice. “Why are we going to a graveyard in the middle of the night?”
“I know your men checked the old church, but what about the tunnel?”
“The tunnel? I think that caved in years ago.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, no. Actually, I’ve never seen it. When I was a kid we thought it was just made up. You know, to scare us, to keep us from screwing around the church at night. There were stories about bodies rising from the dead, digging out of their graves and crawling through the tunnel. Finding their way back to the church to redeem their condemned souls.”
“Sounds like the perfect place for a killer who believes in redemption.”
“You think that’s where he’s keeping Timmy? In a hole in the ground?” He remembered Maggie’s story about the father who buried