Knock Out
Page 112
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Bernie thanked God it wasn’t Lissy who was enraged, because she’d have shot him without a thought. He tested his wrists again. He wasn’t going to get himself free, his hands and feet were tied too tight. Victor held a gun on his lap, which meant Bernie was a half a second away from being dead. There was nothing he could do, nothing except pray, and that’s what he did.
He prayed Savich and Sherlock and Cully had realized what was happening, prayed this insane Lolita wouldn’t come in through the back door, laughing like a maniac, and empty a clip into them.
Victor said in a meditative voice, never looking away from the front of the house, “Do you know I’ve never killed anyone myself? That’s why I drove the van for my aunt. I told her I didn’t want to do that. A couple of days ago I shot a highway patrol officer woman in the chest. Lissy was yelling at me to shoot her between the eyes so she couldn’t rat us out, but she was looking up at me, you know? And I shot the ground next to her head. I really didn’t think she’d live; there was blood all over her chest.” Victor leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I guess Lissy was right, that woman cop did live, and she did rat us out, she told them exactly who we were. It was all over the car radio news, this big news bulletin about us.”
Victor turned to look at Bernie. “But you, buddy, you’re coming on to Lissy, and that makes me mad. Maybe I could kill you and not feel bad about it.”
65
PEAS RIDGE, GEORGIA
When Ethan managed to open his eyes, he was lying on his back on a soft, pale blue rug, staring up at a white ceiling. He managed to sit up. He was in a nice-sized room, with a large bed with a pale blue coverlet, a desk that looked like an antique, and shelves built in behind it filled with books and what looked like journals. There was a gooseneck lamp on top of the desk, next to a computer. He saw a door that probably led to a bathroom.
The room looked like a superior hotel accommodation. There were raised blinds over the glass window in the door.
He walked to the door. It was locked, but he looked out the window. He could see only a window down the hall a ways from him.
He was in one of the members’ rooms. No mortification of the flesh in this place, he thought, and touched the frame of a photograph on the wall, this one of a sky filled with stars.
He felt dizzy and slightly nauseated from the gas. Where were Joanna and Autumn? Probably in a room of their own, he thought. He stretched out on the comfortable bed and looked up at the white ceiling.
Who had brought him here? Whistler? There had to be others who worked for him. He had to be ready when they came.
He lay silent and still for a while longer, until the vagueness and nausea slowly receded a few minutes later. Ethan realized he was hungry. He pulled an old wrapped mint out of his pants pocket, peeled off the wrapper, and sucked on it. He closed his eyes.
He had nothing to do but wait.
He heard a key turn in the lock, and the door opened. Whistler stood there, his hand out, holding a gun. “I see you’re awake already, Sheriff, as you should be,” he said. “We’ve never had to use the gas before. I see now it was a prudent measure, after all. We couldn’t have you leaving through the outer door.”
“Were you watching the whole time?”
“Another precaution. I saw how you overcame my poor Kjell. I was fond of him.” Whistler continued in a meditative voice, “Truth be told, I believed Kjell was invincible. I saw him fight at his dojo in Seoul; he never lost. Evidently I thought too highly of his skills, since you killed him.
“You have cost us dearly, Sheriff, and I hope to see you pay for it.”
“Where are Joanna and Autumn?”
“They are in a comfortable room. Now it’s time, Sheriff. You wanted to meet the Father. You will now.”
66
WINNETT, NORTH CAROLINA
Savich eased open the bedroom window and climbed out. He ran bent over into the thick oak and pine trees before making his way around to the back of the house. Once in position, he dropped to his knees and looked across the large overgrown backyard. He didn’t see anything, and no face through the window. Good, Sherlock and Cully were still in the dilapidated living room in the front. He moved deeper into the trees, stopping every few steps to listen. He was surprised when the land sloped downward. He realized there was no way Victor and Lissy had hunkered down back here; they wouldn’t be able to see much of anything from this position. Climbing a tree would probably give them a view of the front of Victor’s apartment building, but they’d be too exposed. No, they were on higher ground, with a full view of the front of the house. Still, he could never be certain of anything Lissy Smiley might do. One of them could be here in the woods behind the house figuring it was a perfect way to surprise them.
He prayed Savich and Sherlock and Cully had realized what was happening, prayed this insane Lolita wouldn’t come in through the back door, laughing like a maniac, and empty a clip into them.
Victor said in a meditative voice, never looking away from the front of the house, “Do you know I’ve never killed anyone myself? That’s why I drove the van for my aunt. I told her I didn’t want to do that. A couple of days ago I shot a highway patrol officer woman in the chest. Lissy was yelling at me to shoot her between the eyes so she couldn’t rat us out, but she was looking up at me, you know? And I shot the ground next to her head. I really didn’t think she’d live; there was blood all over her chest.” Victor leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I guess Lissy was right, that woman cop did live, and she did rat us out, she told them exactly who we were. It was all over the car radio news, this big news bulletin about us.”
Victor turned to look at Bernie. “But you, buddy, you’re coming on to Lissy, and that makes me mad. Maybe I could kill you and not feel bad about it.”
65
PEAS RIDGE, GEORGIA
When Ethan managed to open his eyes, he was lying on his back on a soft, pale blue rug, staring up at a white ceiling. He managed to sit up. He was in a nice-sized room, with a large bed with a pale blue coverlet, a desk that looked like an antique, and shelves built in behind it filled with books and what looked like journals. There was a gooseneck lamp on top of the desk, next to a computer. He saw a door that probably led to a bathroom.
The room looked like a superior hotel accommodation. There were raised blinds over the glass window in the door.
He walked to the door. It was locked, but he looked out the window. He could see only a window down the hall a ways from him.
He was in one of the members’ rooms. No mortification of the flesh in this place, he thought, and touched the frame of a photograph on the wall, this one of a sky filled with stars.
He felt dizzy and slightly nauseated from the gas. Where were Joanna and Autumn? Probably in a room of their own, he thought. He stretched out on the comfortable bed and looked up at the white ceiling.
Who had brought him here? Whistler? There had to be others who worked for him. He had to be ready when they came.
He lay silent and still for a while longer, until the vagueness and nausea slowly receded a few minutes later. Ethan realized he was hungry. He pulled an old wrapped mint out of his pants pocket, peeled off the wrapper, and sucked on it. He closed his eyes.
He had nothing to do but wait.
He heard a key turn in the lock, and the door opened. Whistler stood there, his hand out, holding a gun. “I see you’re awake already, Sheriff, as you should be,” he said. “We’ve never had to use the gas before. I see now it was a prudent measure, after all. We couldn’t have you leaving through the outer door.”
“Were you watching the whole time?”
“Another precaution. I saw how you overcame my poor Kjell. I was fond of him.” Whistler continued in a meditative voice, “Truth be told, I believed Kjell was invincible. I saw him fight at his dojo in Seoul; he never lost. Evidently I thought too highly of his skills, since you killed him.
“You have cost us dearly, Sheriff, and I hope to see you pay for it.”
“Where are Joanna and Autumn?”
“They are in a comfortable room. Now it’s time, Sheriff. You wanted to meet the Father. You will now.”
66
WINNETT, NORTH CAROLINA
Savich eased open the bedroom window and climbed out. He ran bent over into the thick oak and pine trees before making his way around to the back of the house. Once in position, he dropped to his knees and looked across the large overgrown backyard. He didn’t see anything, and no face through the window. Good, Sherlock and Cully were still in the dilapidated living room in the front. He moved deeper into the trees, stopping every few steps to listen. He was surprised when the land sloped downward. He realized there was no way Victor and Lissy had hunkered down back here; they wouldn’t be able to see much of anything from this position. Climbing a tree would probably give them a view of the front of Victor’s apartment building, but they’d be too exposed. No, they were on higher ground, with a full view of the front of the house. Still, he could never be certain of anything Lissy Smiley might do. One of them could be here in the woods behind the house figuring it was a perfect way to surprise them.
