Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [350]
For several years afterward, everything he shot seemed to be gold, with newspapers and magazines calling him nonstop. Sometimes they were just checking to see what he had available that week. He went anywhere he wanted and shot anything that interested him from warring African tribes to frogs with legs sprouting out of their fucking heads. And everything got snatched up almost as quickly as he could develop the prints. All because they were his photographs.
Lately, things were different. Maybe his luck had simply run dry. He was fucking tired of trying to be in the right place at the right time. He was tired of waiting for news to happen. Maybe it was time to make some of his own. He squeezed the canisters in his hands. These had better be good.
Just as he turned for the darkroom again, he noticed the answering machine flashing twice, indicating a message other than Curtis’s. Okay, so maybe Parentino or Rubins liked the photos that Curtis didn’t want.
Without emptying his hands, he punched the message-play button with his knuckle.
“You have two messages,” the mechanical voice recited, grating on his nerves. “First message recorded at 11:45 p.m., today.”
Ben glanced at the wall clock. He must have just missed the first call before he came in.
There was a click and a pause, maybe a wrong number. Then a young woman’s polite voice said, “Mr. Garrison, this is the customer service office at Yellow Cab. I hope you enjoyed your ride with us this evening.”
The film canisters slipped to the floor and scattered in different directions while Ben grabbed the countertop. He stared at the answering machine. No cab company on this planet called its passengers to see if they enjoyed their ride. No, it had to be them. Which meant they had moved from crank calls to watching him. And now they wanted him to know they were watching.
CHAPTER 16
Justin Pratt waited outside the McDonald’s rest room. Who’d think the place would be this busy at this time of night? But where else were kids supposed to hang out? Shit! What he wouldn’t do for a Big Mac. The smell of French fries made his mouth water and his stomach ache.
He had carelessly suggested to Alice that they grab a bite to eat. Even before her nose crinkled and she gave him that exasperated look, he knew she wouldn’t agree. That was one of the things he admired: her unflinching self-discipline. Yet, at the same time, what would it hurt to have one fucking cheeseburger?
He needed to watch his language. He glanced around again. It was becoming a habit for him to check that no one could hear his thoughts. What the hell was wrong with him? He was creeping himself out.
He couldn’t believe how jumpy he was. It was as if he had no control over his body or his thoughts. He scratched his jaw and combed his fingers through his greasy hair. He hated taking timed showers. The water never got warm, and this morning his two minutes were up before he could get the shampoo out of his hair.
He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest to stop his fidgeting. What was taking her so long? He knew part of the jumpiness had to be withdrawal from nicotine and caffeine. No cigarettes, no coffee, no cheeseburgers—Jesus! Was he out of his fucking mind?
Just then, Alice came out of the rest room. She had tied back her long blond hair, revealing more of her smooth white skin and her pouty lips, lips cherry-red without the aid of any cosmetics. When her green eyes met his, they sparkled, and she smiled at him like no one had ever smiled at him before. And once again, none of what he had given up mattered, as long as this beautiful angel continued