Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [198]
“Reverend Everett says it’s because your father still has something he needs to tell me. But hell, he keeps hanging up. Oh, I shouldn’t swear,” and she giggled, again.
“Mom, who’s Reverend Everett?”
“Reverend Joseph Everett. I told you about him, Mag-pie.”
“No, you haven’t told me anything about him.”
“I’m sure I have. Oh, Emily and Steven are here. I’ve got to go.”
“Mom, wait. Mom…” But it was too late. Her mother had already hung up.
Maggie dragged her fingers through her short hair, resisting the urge to yank. It had only been a week…okay, maybe two weeks, since she had talked to her last. How could she be making so little sense? She thought about calling her back. She hadn’t even given her the new phone number. But then her mother wasn’t in any condition to remember it. Maybe Emily and Steven or Reverend Everett—whoever the hell these people were—maybe they could take care of her. Maggie had been taking care of her mother for far too long. Maybe it was finally someone else’s turn.
The fact her mother was drinking again didn’t surprise Maggie. Years ago, she had accepted the compromise. At least when her mother was drinking she wasn’t attempting suicide. But that her mother thought she was talking to her dead husband disturbed Maggie. Plus, she hated the reminder that the one person who had truly loved her, loved her unconditionally, had been dead for more than twenty years.
Maggie tugged the chain around her neck and brought out the medallion from under her shirt collar. Her father had given her the silver cross for her First Holy Communion, claiming it would protect her from evil. Yet, Maggie couldn’t help remembering that his own identical cross had not saved him when he ran into that burning building. She often wondered if he had honestly believed it would protect him.
Since then Maggie had witnessed enough evil to know that a body armor of silver crosses would never be enough to protect her. Instead, she wore the medallion out of remembrance for her brave father. The medal against her chest dangled between her breasts and often felt as cool and hard as a knife blade. She let it remind her that there was a fine line between good and evil.
In the last nine years she had learned plenty about evil, its power to destroy completely, to leave behind empty shells that once were warm, breathing individuals. All those lessons were meant to train her to fight it, to control it, to eventually annihilate it. But in doing so, it was necessary to follow evil, to live as evil lives, to think as evil thinks. Was it possible that somewhere along the way evil had invaded her without her realizing it? Was that why she felt so much hatred, so much need for vengeance? Was that why she felt so hollow?
The doorbell rang, and again Maggie had her Smith & Wesson in her hand before she realized it. She tucked the revolver into what was becoming its regular spot, the back waistband of her jeans. Absentmindedly, she pulled down her T-shirt to conceal it.
She didn’t recognize the petite brunette standing on her front portico. Maggie’s eyes searched the street, the expanse between houses, the shadows created by trees and bushes before she moved to disarm the security system. She wasn’t sure what she expected. Did she honestly believe Albert Stucky would have followed her to her new house?
“Yes?” she asked, opening the door only wide enough to place her body in the space.
“Hi!” the woman said with a false cheerfulness.
Dressed in a black-and-white knit cardigan and matching skirt, she looked ready for an evening out. Her dark shoulder-length hair didn’t dare move in the breeze. Her makeup enhanced thin lips and concealed laugh lines. The diamond necklace, earrings and wedding ring were modest and tasteful, but Maggie recognized how expensive they were. Okay, so at least the woman wasn’t trying to sell anything. Still, Maggie waited while the woman’s eyes darted around her, hoping for a glimpse beyond the front door.
“I’m Susan