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Chapter 559
Finally, Cecilia broke the stalemate. Still not sure what the ultimate answer might be, she put her finger to her lips, signaling Conner not to say anything. He watched as she turned the key and pressed the switch to close the convertible top. The black roof rose silently from the back, unfolding itself above them like a dark spectre spreading its cloak to block out the stars. When the roof locked into place with a sharp click, Cecilia put the car in gear and swung out onto Mulholland Drive.
They rode in silence, winding through the hilltops until they reached the 405 freeway. The quiet hung between them like a palpable thing, weighing on Conner’s mind, emphasizing rather than masking their problem, but he dared not break Cecilia’s unspoken command. Instead, he leaned forward and switched on the radio, choosing a mellow jazz station to color the silence. Cecilia gave no notice. As they sped down the long incline toward the city, he wondered what was going through
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Leesa's Advent Chapter 560
Shrouded in the gloomy dimness of Cecilia’s underground garage, Conner slumped motionless in his car, mindlessly staring through the windshield, a mannequin with its hands glued to the steering wheel. The engine was off. He had managed to insert the key into the ignition, but that was as far as he’d gotten. His brain refused to allow further action.It had all happened so quickly. One moment he and Cecilia were in each other’s arms, lost in the tender preliminary steps of a lovemaking dance, the next she was throwing him out and slamming the door. This was no ordinary lover’s quarrel, he knew, not something that could be mended with flowers or chocolate. The estrangement ran far deeper, a rift that tore at the core of their relationship. The anger in Cecilia’s voice had struck him like a blow, leaving a deep ache clenching at his midsection. Had she physically kicked him, he doubted it could have hurt as deeply. And his mind was equally bruised. Scores of jumbled, unfinished thoughts
Leesa's Advent Chapter 561
The Pacific storm that had heralded its arrival with surging surf on Sunday slammed into Los Angeles early Tuesday morning. The rain started with large, scattered drops splattering harmlessly against asphalt, earth and grass, but quickly turned into a driving downpour. Gusting winds drove slanting sheets of water across the entire L.A. basin, snapping tree branches and blasting umbrellas inside out. The parched ground, without rain for several months, soaked up what it could of the torrent, but most of the downpour bounced futilely off buildings, roads and parking lots, gathering itself into fast-moving rivulets that raced along gutters and sidewalks before tumbling into storm drains that would carry the runoff to the sea. Parking lots and sidewalks turned into minefields of ever-widening puddles.On the freeways, the rain turned driving into a challenge that too many stubborn Southlanders failed, refusing to slow down or increase their following distances despite the conditions. Decr
Leesa's Advent Chapter 562
Conner remained silent as Sloane pulled the plastic cover off his soup. A faint wisp of steam curled up into the air, and a moment later the aroma of chicken broth reached Conner’s nose. It smelled surprisingly appetizing, and as Sloane slurped a noodle-filled spoonful into his mouth, Conner realized he’d had nothing to eat today. A low rumble gurgled through his stomach.“Mmmmm, tasty,” Sloane said, smacking his lips together. “Better than Momma ever made, that’s for sure.” He swallowed another spoonful and smacked his lips again.“Enough, Robert,” Conner said. He reached across and pushed Sloane’s cup of soup to the side. “Why are you here?”Sloane raised his bushy eyebrows. “To take care of sick friend?”“We both know I’m not sick.”“Yeah. You ain’t sniffled once since I got here.” Sloane cradled his cup with his meaty hand and slid it back in front of him. “This stuff really is good. And it’s my lunch.” He slurped another spoonful, and then locked his eyes onto Conner’s. “I’m here
Leesa's Advent Chapter 563
Weber was ready. More than ready. He was stoked, jaked, wired; wound as tight as he could ever remember. Even in ’Nam, by far the best time of his life, he’d never felt better than this, or more alive. He’d been on the edge all day. Since yesterday, in fact, when the storm prevented him from carrying out his plan. He was ready to kill. The need coursed through his veins, a life force all its own. Pulling at him. He felt like a wire stretched to the very brink of its breaking point. Unable to sit still, he paced around his apartment like a lion prowling in its cage. Six beers between breakfast and lunch failed to soften even the edges of his excitement. Luckily, today he would not have to wait until nightfall. Until now, his hunting had been confined to the darkness. But not this time. It was time to broaden the terror, to let the people know that even daylight provided no safety from the whims of the reaper.By now, he knew, he was at the top of the cops&rsq
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Weber pushed the memories down, focusing his attention back to the busy sidewalk, back to the flashily dressed women poised by the curb, colorful, unmoving islands in the stream of people flowing around them. There would be more ladies, he knew, a few blocks away on Hollywood Boulevard, but he had already hunted there once and would be a fool to return. He was confident Santa Monica Boulevard would provide him what he needed. And just a few moments later, it did.The girl seated beside him in the front of the Camaro was younger than he first thought, Weber decided as he studied her more closely, but not too young for what he needed. Sixteen or seventeen, he guessed. Her black skin was still smooth and sleek, and though she kept her thickly glossed lips curved in a wide, white smile, he saw a weariness in her eyes that betrayed the enthusiasm she tried to show. Her body was firm and tight inside an orange spandex halter top and clinging black miniskirt, but the w
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“We got him”Fifteen minutes after Sloane’s call, the words still echoed in Conner’s head. Following the triumphant exclamation, Sloane had been brief and to the point. They had a name and an address. Units were on the way. If Conner wanted to watch it go down, he could join Sloane on site.Since hanging up the phone, Conner had not been able to sit still. Each time he tried to sit, he popped back up off the couch like a child’s jack-in-the-box toy and began pacing his apartment. It seemed impossible. Less than forty-eight hours ago Sloane sat in Conner’s kitchen and told him the task force was making no progress. But today Sloane’s voice held no doubt. Somehow, they had gotten the break they’d all been praying for.Conner had refused to let himself think about the case since Sloane’s visit, remaining holed up in his apartment, going out only to buy a case of beer and a couple of tasteless, cellophane-wrapped
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“But the license checked out?” Conner asked.“Yeah, DMV confirmed it was a Camaro, registered for the last four years to one Peter Weber, 35 years old, six-foot-three, two hundred twenty pounds.”Plenty big enough to hold Christy DeMars upside down, Conner thought.“I’ve got a dozen guys trying to track down a place of employment, but we’re not taking any chances,” Sloane continued. “We’re goin’ in here as soon as the neighborhood’s secure. Got arrest and search warrants, so if he’s not here, we’ll tear the place apart. Something in there’ll lead us to him.”Conner turned his attention back down the block. Was it really possible this thing was almost over? And if so, what would that mean to him? “How close are you to going in?” he asked.“Almost ready. No one was home in the house on the right, and we’ve already pulled a retired c
Leesa's Advent Chapter 567
Conner didn't want to think about it, wanted to run from the room, to retreat to the safety and isolation of his apartment, but he could not stop the jumble of thoughts swirling inside his head. His brain was beyond conscious control, operating instinctively, guided by too many years of experience. Questions arose in rapid-fire fashion, new ones starting before the old ones were complete, billiard balls ricocheting off each other on a crowded pool table. The whole thing made no sense. Weber was their best, their only suspect. And yet Weber was dead, which did a pretty good job of eliminating him as a suspect. But his car was used in at least two of the murders. That was the one hard fact they had—that and a slew of dead bodies. What did it mean? Had someone borrowed the car? Twice? A roommate, a friend? Could that explain why the killer was less careful about letting the car be seen this time? But why be less careful, and why kill Weber? Had Weber unwittingly stumbled onto som
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