All Chapters of Leesa's Advent: Chapter 591 - Chapter 600

Stennie grinned. “I stay, amigo, because I enjoy it where I am. Perhaps you do not realize, because of my many great deeds and the legends that surround me, but I am only twenty-four years old. I have much time to do other things in the years ahead. Vice Squad may be a second rate show, but within its framework of sex and violence, Senorita Cline has given me free rein to be as creative as I can. I have had mucho fun trying to outdo myself each week.” His expression darkened. “At least I was, until these terrible things began to happen.”“And now?” Conner asked, watching him closely.Stennie’s brow furrowed. “And now, my soul grows dark with worry. I wonder if somehow I am responsible for these tragedies. I, who have devoted my life to the vanquishing of evil. If I did not create these scenes, they could not come to life.” Stennie looked into Conner’s eyes, as if seeking redemption. “But a soul as dark a

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

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

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

“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