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Blood Betrayal (John Jordan Mysteries Book 14)

Page 21

by Michael Lister


  “What you could’ve done was not raise an evil, murderous bitch.”

  “I’m not evil,” Kathryn says. “I’m not murderous. I snapped and in an instant I committed one terrible, horrible act.”

  “One?” Billy says. “One? I think somebody needs to explain to your ass what the definition of one is.”

  I know how long it takes to strangle someone and it’s far more than an instant. She had ample opportunity to stop, to gather herself and undo what she was doing before the point at which it couldn’t be undone. And she didn’t.

  Pinter steps over to Kathryn and begins cuffing her.

  “No,” Mary Elizabeth says. “Not my . . . We just got Qwon back. Don’t take our—”

  “It’s okay, Mom,” Kathryn says. “It’s what I deserve. I’m sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I really didn’t. Please know that. Please know I’m not a bad person. I just lost it once in a drug-addled state. Mr and Mrs. Diaz and . . . Qwon . . . I’ve caused you so much pain, done you the most wrong. I . . . I don’t have any more words. Just . . . I’m so . . . I truly, truly am.”

  Pinter leads her out.

  For a long beat no one says anything, just stands there in stunned, drained silence, the only sounds soft cries and sniffles.

  Eventually, slowly, wordlessly people begin to drift out of the courtyard, onto the sidewalk, and disappear into the night.

  I check on Ida, Qwon, the Diazes, and thank Merrill and Za again.

  Then Anna takes my hand and takes me home.

  47

  “You okay?” Anna asks.

  We’re on Highway 22 heading home. The night is dark and a low fog hovers over the highway. It has been several miles since we passed a car and our headlights are diffused and ineffectual.

  I nod.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Takes a toll. Wouldn’t have chosen any of it. But . . . knew when I signed up for this work there were no happy endings.”

  She starts to say something, but I interrupt her.

  “Except,” I add, “we’re going home together.”

  “Doesn’t get any happier ending than that,” she says. “That and we get Johanna tomorrow. We’ll all be together this weekend.”

  “Wasn’t long ago I’d get to the end of a case and didn’t have that.”

  “Has Susan said when she’s moving down here?”

  “Plans to look for a place this weekend,” I say. “Heading over there after she drops Johanna off.”

  “So you don’t have to drive to Atlanta and back?”

  “I do not.”

  “Oh, that’s just . . . the best news. I want you to sleep in and spend the day relaxing and resting when you’re not making love to me.”

  “You got it.”

  “Thought any more about resigning one of your jobs?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “That one’s in the suspension folder for now. Gonna give it a little more time before I do anything.”

  “You sure you’re okay? I was worried about how you might be feeling about Ida, about how this affects her,” she says. “Given how it . . . ended, who it was. I didn’t want you feeling even guiltier than you did before you agreed to help her again.”

  “I’m . . . it was so different this time. And she made sure I didn’t feel any . . . I’m good. We’re good.”

  “Good,” she says, pausing before adding, “I’m so proud of you. So honored to be sharing this life with you. I love the way your mind works, love watching you work, the way you piece things together, make connections no one does.”

  “You and Merrill did as much as I did,” I say. “More. And if either of you had had all the various pieces you could’ve put it together.”

  “No, that’s not true. We couldn’t. But that’s beside the point. The point is . . . I’m in awe of you and I will never, ever take you—the gift of you—for granted.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I think I like your mind second only to your kindness,” she says. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s your kindness, your spirit or essence, then your mind. I’ll have to think about it.”

  I smile. “You’re trying to cheer me up,” I say. “You’re the best wife in the whole wide world. But I really am fine.”

  “I may or may not be trying to cheer you up, but I meant every word I said.”

  When we pull into our driveway, Chris Taunton is there in our yard. Dad is near him, gun drawn.

  “I want you to go straight inside and check on Taylor, Sam, and Verna, okay?” I say.

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t even look at him.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  I pull onto the grass close to the door, placing the car so that it blocks Anna completely as she gets out and walks in.

  “Let me get out first,” I say. “Give me five seconds, then you go. Take the keys in case Dad locked the door. He probably did.”

  I slip the little .38 out of my ankle holster, pat Anna’s hand, tell her I love her, and get out of the car, gun drawn.

  “Dad,” I say. “You okay?”

  “Damn, what’s with all the guns?” Chris says. “This how you rednecks greet every newcomer to town?”

  “I’m good,” Dad says. “Was just trying to explain to Chris here how it’s not a good idea to just drop by.”

  I look at Chris. “Don’t just not drop by, don’t ever come here again. Not ever.”

  “John, my family lives here. My flesh and blood. She’s my daughter, not yours. You think you’re gonna keep me from my daughter? You really think that?”

  “You’re wrong, Chris. Your family doesn’t live here. Mine does. If the court grants you supervised visitation we’ll deal with that, but it won’t be here. Don’t ever come here.”

  “No one’s gonna keep me from my family,” he says. “No one. Not you, not the courts. No one. I will be visiting my daughter. And I will be doing it any goddamn time I feel like it.”

  “You know,” I say, “until this moment I thought the Stand Your Ground law was mostly a joke—used by the paranoid and mentally ill to shoot people in movie theaters and gas stations—but now . . . I’m seeing other more legitimate and necessary applications.”

  “What’re you saying Chaplain John?” he says in an exaggerated, mocking manner.

  “I’ll speak slowly,” I say, “and not use any figurative language or subtlety. You are trespassing. I’ve told you to leave and not to ever come back. You tried to kill us. Not just me and Anna, but your own child.”

  He shakes his head. “I was only tryin’ to kill you.”

  “You represent a very real threat to my family. If you come back on my property again, I will shoot you.”

  Dad shakes his head. “No you won’t, Son. And he knows it. You won’t get the chance, ’cause I’ll shoot his sorry ass first.”

  “I’ll say goodnight now,” Chris says, his voice and demeanor calm, casual, “but I’ll see y’all again real soon. Y’all might not see me, but I’ll see you. I’ll see you.”

  “We know you’re a coward and a back shooter,” I say, “someone who hires others to do his dirty deeds, but know this—if you do anything or have anything done to any of us, we have friends who will square it.”

  “And be damn happy to do so,” Dad says.

  “Anything happens to any of us, they’re coming after you,” I say. “So you better pray nothing happens. Nothing at all.”

  He turns and walks away. “Night,” he says, lifting a hand back toward us. “See you soon.”

  He slowly, nonchalantly, walks down our driveway and then our street, and disappears into the night in front of the old Wewa Hardware building.

  Dad turns to me and says, “He’s gonna be a problem until he’s put down.”

  I nod. “I know,” I say. “I know.”

  Later that night, as I lie awake thinking about what to do about Chris, my weapon on the bedside table next to me, my phone begins to vibrate.

  “Congratulations,” Randa
says. “I really thought it was the other ex. But like you said . . . I was guessing. Tryin’ to get ahead of you on it. But . . . anyway . . . Good work.”

  “When can we expect Daniel?” I ask. “Can I come get him now?”

  “You won, John,” she says. “You did. Mr. Big Brain. But the truth is all that really does is tie us up. It’s even now—one-one. But I’m not one to not settle a score.”

  “Oh, I know this about you,” I say.

  She actually laughs. “Sorry about the mess I left you in Eastpoint, but no, I meant I pay my debts . . . I understand that murdering piece of shit ex-husband of Anna’s is getting out of prison, that the charges against him are being dropped. So here’s what I’m gonna do . . . I’m gonna take him off the board for you. Punch his ticket. Cancel him to cancel my debt and then we’ll play again someday soon for Daniel. How’s that?”

  But before I can tell her that’s not okay, not to do anything to Chris, she is gone and I’m left alone again with my thoughts and possibilities and options—which all just got a lot more complicated.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you for invaluable help:

  Dawn Lister, Aaron Bearden, Tim Flanagan,

  Mike Harrison, Terry Lewis, and D.P. Lyle,

  Also by Michael Lister

  Join Michael’s Readers’ Group and receive 4 FREE Books!

  Books by Michael Lister

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  www.MichaelLister.com and receive a free book.

  * A special sample of BLOOD OF THE LAMB (the 2nd John Jordan novel) is at the end of this book.

  (John Jordan Novels)

  Power in the Blood

  Blood of the Lamb

  Flesh and Blood

  (Special Introduction by Margaret Coel)

  The Body and the Blood

  Blood Sacrifice

  Rivers to Blood

  Innocent Blood

  (Special Introduction by Michael Connelly)

  Blood Money

  Blood Moon

  Blood Cries

  Blood Oath

  Blood Work

  Cold Blood

  (Jimmy “Soldier” Riley Novels)

  The Big Goodbye

  The Big Beyond

  The Big Hello

  The Big Bout

  The Big Blast

  In a Spider’s Web (short story)

  The Big Book of Noir

  (Merrick McKnight / Reggie Summers Novels)

  Thunder Beach

  A Certain Retribution

  (Remington James Novels)

  Double Exposure

  (includes intro by Michael Connelly)

  Separation Anxiety

  (Sam Michaels / Daniel Davis Novels)

  Burnt Offerings

  Separation Anxiety

  (Love Stories)

  Carrie’s Gift

  (Short Story Collections)

  North Florida Noir

  Florida Heat Wave

  Delta Blues

  Another Quiet Night in Desperation

  (The Meaning Series)

  Meaning Every Moment

  The Meaning of Life in Movies

  Sign up for Michael’s newsletter by clicking here or go to

  www.MichaelLister.com and receive a free book.

 

 

 


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