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Chapter 563
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Weber 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
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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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Saturday morning, Conner was back at Santa Monica Beach, leaning against the front fender of his BMW, straining to catch his breath after a twenty minute run. The sun, pleasantly warm on his face and arms, floated in a powder blue sky flecked with puffy, cotton ball clouds. A gentle onshore breeze carried the briny marine scent across the beach. The surf was flat, and only a few surfers bobbed in the water. Conner could barely hear the stunted waves as they broke weakly against the shore, especially over the delighted screams of frolicking children who romped in the sand along the water’s edge.The run was Conner’s first since his split with Cecilia. His effort had been less than satisfying—his weeklong funk had taken its toll on his body, leaving him with leg muscles too slow to loosen and too quick to grow fatigued. His wind was not much better. He’d been back at the car for a few minutes now, but his legs still throbbed, and his breathing had not qu
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CONNER PRESSED THE GLOWING orange doorbell button just before seven o’clock. A triple chime echoed faintly from inside the house. While he waited, he breathed deeply of the cool evening air, relishing the fresh scent of trees and grass not often experienced in the valley below. He had found the house in the hills above Beverly Hills without trouble, in a quiet neighborhood Conner thought of as “almost there.” The homes were of moderate size, comfortable and well kept, secluded enough to provide privacy and security from the dangers of the urban jungle below. What Alexa’s neighborhood lacked, what kept it from being filled with lavish mansions peopled by those who had truly “arrived,” was favorable topography. Nestled in a small valley whose hillsides folded back upon one another, the lots provided no views, no wide-open vistas of sparkling city lights or mesmerizing blue ocean to double or triple the price of the real estate. Driving up, Conner ha
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“Sit, please,” she said after Conner deposited the salad bowl onto the table. “I’ll be right back.” She pivoted back into the kitchen.Conner slid into the chair on the side of the table, leaving the end seat for Alexa. From his seat, he looked out a large bay window into a grassy backyard ringed by tall hedges. A small ground light near the house threw enough pale yellow illumination onto the yard for him to see the grass was neatly trimmed and that the hedges were oleander bushes.Alexa returned with their half-filled goblets and the bottle of wine, which she emptied into their glasses before placing it on the shelf of an oak breakfront behind her. She leaned over the table and deftly lit two tall lavender candles, then twisted a switch on the wall to dim the crystal chandelier above the table before settling into her chair.“That’s better,” she said. “Why don’t you serve us some salad, Case, while I perform surgery on the lasagna.”Using a set of plastic tongs, Conner filled each o
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Just before nine o'clock on Sunday morning, Conner swung into the parking garage at Parker Center and followed the ramp up to the rooftop level. He pulled into an open spot near the stairway and climbed out of his car into the bright sunshine. The air was warmer than he expected for this time of year, and he wondered if the heat signaled the beginnings of a Santa Ana, when hot, dry air from the desert rushed toward the coast, compressing and heating up still more as it flowed down over the mountains into the basin. The gusty winds usually carried temperatures of ninety or one hundred degrees, and could reach forty or fifty miles per hour in L.A., much more in the outlying communities. Along with the heat, the winds carried a heightened risk of terrifying fires, which seemed to have increased in number and ferocity in recent years. Many people swore the Santa Ana winds also brought a rash of aberrant behavior with them, even more than a full moon, but the only aberrant behavior that
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Serena awoke to the sound of birds chirping and the smell of fresh coffee brewing. She rolled over lazily, reaching out for Raphael, but the space was empty. With eyes still closed, she frowned. Where is that man? That man had probably been out of bed since the crack of dawn, beside himself with nerves for today’s big event, she thought regretfully. They were to be married today. Their lives intertwined for all of eternity. What man wouldn’t have cold feet at the prospect? And they’d known each other such a short time, too. She opened her eyes and blinked a few times, and frowned again. She had awakened in the safe house. Last night, she’d killed a man in her own home, and knew she could never go back there ever again. She didn’t care how good the Brethren’s cleanup crew could restore her home. It would never erase the vivid memories and horrors of what had happened there. She and Raphael would have to find themselves a new home, together. Until such time, this place would be it, th
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It’s going to be a long day without Raphael, Serena thought, as she washed and dressed. But she carried on. With so many loose ends to tie up, final checks to be made, people and places to coordinate, she scarcely had time to think about anything else. Except for her father. In the quiet moments between the bedlam of planning a wedding, she reflected upon him and her heart ached. She had arranged for a nursing home staffer to drive him and his wheelchair to the Chapel of the Holy Cross for the wedding. They didn’t usually allow weddings there, but somehow, Raphael swayed their decision. Kemuel promised to wheel her father down the aisle beside her, and she loved him instantly for that. But her dream was to have him walk her down that aisle. A sob caught in her throat, and she quickly shook her head to whisk it away. None of that nonsense, Serena. Don’t be greedy. At least he is alive and here to be a part of it all. As the day waxed on to evening, Serena felt unsettled. She hadn’t s
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Raphael spent the next few days cloistered with Serena, away from everyone and everything, like a honeymoon before the wedding. But every morning he made creative excuses to tear himself away from her for a little while and work with Fred. To make sure she didn’t visit her father, he dropped her off at her shop first so she could plan a small wedding with Callie and catch up on the mountains of paperwork.The healing sessions with Serena’s father went spectacularly, and with Raphael’s charisma, he convinced the nursing home staff to keep any improvements secret from her. They thought it romantic that he came to help with his fiancée’s father’s rehabilitation. Everyone there rooted for him, amazed at his miraculous awakening. All of the therapists worked their tails off during his therapy sessions, wanting to see their severely stroke-damaged patient beat the odds and walk his daughter down the aisle.On the morning of the fifth day, Raphael got Fred walking without any assistance.“Co
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Raphael grabbed her hands. “Do it!” he demanded. He placed them on his temples and spoke to her through their bonded connection. She felt every thought he had had of Sirona over the years straight to the present down their threaded connection. She heard every thought he’d had of her, including every word he had spoken while holding her in his arms at Dr. Chappo’s estate. He sent her everything that filled his heart and soul about her, and finally, at last, she knew.She knew. And knowing was everything to her. He gently brought her hands away from his face, kissing her fingertips as he eased them down, and she took a few steps backward, looking at him as if for the first time. No one before had ever felt about her the way he felt about her, let alone express so strongly all he’d expressed when she’d lain dying in his arms.“You’re in love with me.” She gasped, astonished. Tears welled again in her eyes, but this time, for a very different reason.“Yes.” He took a bold step toward her.
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A bundle of nerves, that’s what she’d turned into. Since leaving her father’s, Serena had been nothing but a bundle of nerves, rehearsing over and over again what she would say to Raphael up on the Rock. Looking all around her now, frightening memories kept popping into her mind, making her think that at any moment, Steve or Wheezer were going to jump out and nab her. Unfortunately, she had gotten to the summit way too early, and now paced like a caged bobcat. It had to stop. The bad guys are dead, Serena. Think positive, and let go the past. So, finding a suitable rock to sit on, Serena decided to do a little meditation to soothe her worried heart. “When I see him, I’ll know the right words to say,” she notified the birds. It may sting for a bit, but it’s for the best.****Raphael showed up at the base of the mountain with time to spare, and noticed Serena’s Jeep already parked. Perfect, he thought. He checked his pocket for the millionth time, making sure the ring box hadn’t fallen
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Raphael watched Serena leave the nursing home from behind one of the bushes in the front. She seems in good spirits, he thought. Only when he saw her disappear down the street did he dare to venture out of his hiding place. He walked into the nursing home and headed straight to the reception desk.“Hello, I’m here to see Mr. Sikes.” He smiled amiably at the receptionist.“Wow, two visitors in one day. Fred’s a lucky guy. Sign in right here, please. You’ll sign out before you leave. Take this badge so we know you belong here. Room 103 is down the hall, make a left, and he’s at the end on the left.”He looked at her name tag, and winked. “Thanks so much, Judy.”Walking down the hall, he found himself fidgeting with the badge in his hand. Am I actually nervous? Hell yeah! Raphael, the man, is about to meet the father of the woman he loves. Raphael, the man, is about to ask for this guy’s daugh
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Great! Just great! There’s a leak in my bedroom ceiling. Wait a minute, that’s not right. I’m not in my bedroom. I’m locked away in Dr. Chappo’s house. She remembered more. Being bound to a gurney, her body broken and dying. But I’m not lying on a gurney now, and I actually feel great. How could she be dying and still feel great? And what’s with the rain shower on my face? Slowly her eyes fluttered open, and she gasped.It was raining. Angel’s tears. Raphael’s tears, to be exact.She lay in his arms, and from the way he shuddered and sobbed, she thought maybe he didn’t know she lived. To be honest with herself, she’d only realized this fact just a few moments before. Iridescent wings were outstretched and trembling though no breeze made them flutter so.She gently raised her hand to caress his cheek and whispered softly. “Shh…there now, Raphael, shh. It’s all right. I’m ok
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Raphael noticed a knob on the box. It made sense to dial it to its lowest setting. He followed the tubing to its clamp on Serena’s side and decided to completely clamp it off. Now, no more blood could flow. But he still needed to get the needle out of her arm. He found gauze and tape on the tray stand and proceeded to extrude the catheter from her arm carefully so as not to injure her. He replaced it securely with the gauze and tape. His hands shook. I can’t fall apart like this right now! He quickly shrugged off the threat of paralyzing fear.“Hey, Raphael, this guy says his name is Steve. Isn’t that the name of one of guys who assaulted Serena?” Gabriel asked.“Yes, yes it is,” he said through gnashed teeth. Rage filled him and he clenched his fists, trying to gain some semblance of control. “Bind him, tightly. Make sure he can see Dr. Chappo. I’d like him to see what happens to assholes like him when they choose
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Searing hot pain shot like lightning throughout every inch of Serena’s body. Well, every inch she could feel, which left her very disturbed indeed, because she couldn’t feel anything past her waist. She could barely breathe without severe pain ripping through her chest and back. She knew what that meant—broken ribs. But what about her legs? Where were they? And why did her wrists feel shackled? Oh, dear God! What’s become of me? Her shallow breaths quickened. Her heart raced and fought for freedom behind her aching chest. Tears burst through her closed eyes and flowed untapped down the sides of her face.A voice sliced through the whooshing sound in her ears. A voice she knew all too well, and had come to despise with every molecule in her being.“Uh, Doc, I think she’s coming ’round. What do you want me to do?” Steve asked.“Hmm? Oh, nuffin. Nuffin, Seeve. Jus’ keep watchin’,” Dr. Chappo sl
