Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [165]
Del slipped to his knees. His eyes blurred as he watched the tall stranger split into several images. He could see the truck and a sprawling Benny. Everything began to spin and blur. Then he slammed hard against the pavement. The steaming concrete sizzled up through his wet back, but it wasn’t as hot as his insides. A wildfire spread through his stomach, catching each of his organs on fire. Now, on his back, he saw nothing but the clouds swirling above him, brilliant white against solid blue. The morning sun blinded him. Yet, it was all so beautiful. Why hadn’t he noticed before how beautiful the sky was?
Behind him a single gun shot blasted the silence. Del managed a weak smile. Finally. He couldn’t see him but good ole’ Benny, the legend, had come through, after all. The alcohol had just slowed him down a bit.
Del pulled himself up, just enough to look at the damage to his stomach. He was startled to find himself staring down at the bloody carved image of Jesus. The dagger causing his insides to spill onto the deserted highway was actually a mahogany crucifix. Suddenly, he couldn’t feel the pain anymore. That had to be a good sign, didn’t it? Maybe he’d be okay.
“Hey, Benny,” he called out, laying his head on the pavement. He still wasn’t able to see his partner behind him. “My daddy’s gonna make a sermon out of this when I tell him I was stabbed with a crucifix.”
A long, black shadow blocked the sky.
Once again Del found himself looking into those empty, dark eyes. Albert Stucky loomed above him, tall and straight, a lean, muscular man with sharp features. He reminded Del of a vulture, perched with black wings pressed patiently against its sides, cocking its head, staring, waiting for its prey to stop struggling, to give in to the inevitable. Then, Stucky smiled as though pleased with what he saw. He raised and pointed Benny’s service revolver at Del’s head.
“You won’t be telling your daddy anything,” Albert Stucky promised in a deep, calm voice. “Tell it to Saint Peter, instead.”
The metal slammed into Del’s skull. A blast of brilliant light swirled together with oceans of blue and yellow and white and then finally…black.
CHAPTER 1
Northeast Virginia
(just outside Washington, D.C.)
Five months later—Friday, March 27
Maggie O’Dell jerked and twisted, trying to make herself more comfortable, only now realizing she had fallen asleep in the recliner again. Her skin felt damp with perspiration and her ribs ached. The air in the room was stale and warm, making it difficult to breathe. She fumbled in the dark, reaching for the brass floor lamp, clicking the switch but getting no light. Damn! She hated waking to complete darkness. Usually she took precautions to prevent it.
Her eyes adjusted slowly, squinting and searching behind and around the stacks of boxes she had spent the day packing. Evidently Greg had not bothered to come home. She couldn’t have slept through one of his noisy entrances. It was just as well he didn’t come home. His temper tantrums would only annoy the movers.
She tried to get out of the recliner but stopped when a sharp pain raced along her abdomen. She grabbed at it, as if she could catch the pain and keep it from spreading. Her fingers felt something warm and sticky soaking through her T-shirt. Jesus! What the hell was going on? Carefully, she pulled up the hem and even in the dark she could see it. A chill slipped down her back and the nausea washed over her. A slit in her skin ran from below her left breast across her abdomen. It was bleeding, soaking into her T-shirt and dripping down into the fabric of the recliner.
Maggie bolted from the chair. She covered the wound and pressed her shirt against it, hoping to stop the bleeding. She needed to call 911. Where the hell was the phone? How could this have happened? The scar was over eight months