The Guilty - Jason Pinter [121]
It did.
I pushed it just enough to create a small crack between the
door and the jamb. I peeked inside.
I could see an elevator. An unmanned receptionist desk
with a tall, white orchid. Nothing else.
I pushed the door farther in, enough so that I could slip
inside. There were no sounds, nobody in view.
I stuck my head in, did a quick sweep, then crept inside
and tiptoed over and ducked behind the receptionist's desk.
I poked my head out the side. There was a door which I
recalled as leading to the conference room. I couldn't see
anything. No Roberts. No Amanda.
Nothing except for a quarter-sized circle of blood on the
middle of the carpet. My heart raced. I couldn't see any
bodies. Nobody was screaming or crying. But he was here.
Somewhere.
And when I felt the muzzle of the Winchester rifle press
against the back of my neck, I knew for sure.
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"You were watching the whole time," I said as I stood up.
The gun followed me, the muzzle pressed against my flesh.
If my heart beat any faster, all I had to do was turn around
and it would burst through my chest, killing Roberts. Might
be worth a try.
"Yessir, I was," he said. "Everything's more exciting when
you're being watched."
"Sure it is. That's why you called the press before the cops
could come," I said. "You wanted us on the scene to 'make
things more exciting.'"
"Yessir," he said.
"If we got here first, the cops wouldn't be prepared. You
knew I'd try to contact Amanda.You knew I'd try to get inside."
"Yessir," he said.
"Then you also know that this building is surrounded by
more ammunition than every Schwarzenegger movie combined. And cops whose trigger fingers will get epilepsy the
second they get you in their crosshairs."
"Yessir, I do," he said. Roberts didn't seem the least bit
upset by this. His face was calm, serene even, like everything
was playing out perfectly.
The Guilty
353
This was the first time I'd had a chance to study him from
close up. No bandanna, no bonds holding me down. He was
younger than I remembered. His short blond hair made him
look like a young twenty-one. It must have been easy for him
to pass through the city. Easy to get lost. He looked like
anyone's brother. Son. His eyes didn't contain the hate or evil
I thought they would. They contained as much levity as mine.
What lay behind those eyes might have been pure evil, but
the prism it shone through disguised it, altered it. He could
have been anyone.
"Same time, you can plan all you want but never really
be sure what's gonna happen." Roberts clicked his tongue.
And if my eyes weren't deceiving me, even nodded his head
in an appreciative way. "Glad you're here, Parker. Glad you
could make it."
"Where's Amanda?"
"Safe," he said. "One thing I'll say, that's a strong female
there. Didn't cry one bit. Didn't beg for help. She did say your
name once, kinda like she expected you to come. Guess you
two have some sort of telepathic link. That right? Can you
read each other's minds?"
I shook my head. "No," I said softly.
"Come on," Roberts said, his voice like a goading friend.
"You can tell me. You and Davies, you hear each other's
thoughts. Complete each other's sentences. Do all those
goopy things lovers do. I bet you even talk to her after you're
done fucking. Don't just snooze off like most guys. Bet you
talk to her about your feelings and shit."
"What the hell are you talking about, you sick asshole?"
I said. Clearly that was the wrong thing to say, because the
muzzle bit into my skin harder than before. I winced. Roberts
sensed this. Dug in harder.
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Jason Pinter
"I care because I want to know just how close you and
Davies are. I need to know, man. I need to hear you say it."
"Why?" I asked.
He walked around the side of the gun, eyed me, then lightning-quick, smashed me in the stomach. I doubled over, pain
shooting through my abdomen. I coughed, felt a speck of
blood hit my hand. Wiped it off. Stood back up.
Robert smiled. "Come with me."
He grabbed me by my jacket collar and pulled me into the
main office. Aside