The Soul Catcher - Alex Kava [133]
Oh, Jesus! He did know. Did it make this more difficult? Or no, it would make it easier. The bastard knew. All these years and he knew.
“She told you before she died,” Everett said, as if he had known all about it, as if her death was something he shared. He had no right and yet he continued, “I read about her death. I think it was in the New York Times or perhaps the Daily News. You know I did care about her. Did she tell you that, too?”
He wouldn’t listen. It was lies. “No, she didn’t tell me that. She managed to leave that part out of her journal.” He needed to confine the anger, but the concoction had already begun to seep into his system, and Everett’s words felt like hot, liquid lava scalding his brain, contaminating his memories. “But she did mention what you did to her. There are pages and pages about that. About what kind of a bastard you really are.”
He felt his fingers twisting into fists. Yes, he’d let the anger fuel him. The anger and the precious words of his mother, that mantra he had memorized from her journal entries. Her words had empowered him throughout his mission. They wouldn’t fail him now.
“I wondered when you would find out.” Everett’s voice still sounded too calm, not a hint of fear. “I knew it was only a matter of time. I thought perhaps that was what all this was about—all those young girls. You were trying to get back at me, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You wanted to hurt me.” Everett smiled as he gave him a nod of confirmation, almost acceptance, as if it was exactly what he had expected from a son of his. “Maybe you even wanted to punish me?”
“Yes.”
“Destroy my reputation.”
“Destroy you.”
The smile disappeared.
“There’s only one thing left now,” he said, picking up the tray from the room service cart. He held it out to Everett, and with his other hand lifted the insulated cover. The tray was empty except for one small red-and-white capsule, sitting on a perfectly folded cloth napkin.
CHAPTER 72
Justin looked for Father or even his henchmen. Already, the pavilion was jam-packed with giggling teenagers mixed in between the others, an odd assortment with little in common except that they all looked like lost souls. They were fucking pathetic, is what they were. Though he had to hand it to Father. There were plenty who looked like they would be ideal recruits and gullible donors.
He had spent the night on the bus trying to plot a strategy and the entire afternoon scoping out as much as he could see of Cleveland. Someone had told him that Edgewater Park was on the west side of Cleveland. There was a circular lot adjacent to the upper section of the park, overlooking the downtown area. Still, he had no idea where the hell he would go. All he knew was that he had to escape while the rally was going on. He’d need to find a way to duck out without Alice or Brandon noticing. Where he’d go seemed a small detail at the moment.
He dug his hands into both his jeans pockets and made sure the wads of bills hadn’t disappeared. Then he pulled down the hem of his T-shirt to make sure the bulge couldn’t be seen. He wasn’t even sure how much he had taken.
While the men who were digging up the strongboxes hauled each box to the bus, Justin stole two fistfuls. He was in such a hurry, all he took time to do was open one of the boxes, reach in and grab and stuff his pockets. Later, he tried to pick out the mothballs and smooth the bills into a neat, folded wad. Then he helped the women at the bonfire, standing in the smoke so he would smell like burnt trash and not mothballs.
He couldn’t help wondering what good the money would do if he had no fucking place to go. He saw Cassie walking to the stage. She waved to the crowd, and the sight of the long purple choir robe she wore got them clapping. Soon she’d have them singing, too. This might be a good time.
Justin looked down at the bike trail and the beach below. There was a statue near the pavilion and some playground equipment. There wasn’t much cover, all the trees were back behind. But he’d already checked. There was a six-foot fence on