Split Second
Page 113

 Catherine Coulter

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“Why are we traveling south, Kirsten? You said something about a pilgrimage to Daddy’s roots—are we going to visit Starke Prison in Raiford? You want to see your daddy’s cell on death row? But why would you want to see where your daddy got strapped into Old Sparky and had two thousand volts shot through his body?”
She breathed in hard and knuckled away the tears in her eyes, smearing her mascara even more. “It was cruel what those animals did to him, and you know they acted all solemn and moral when they did it.
“Old Sparky! Can you believe that name? I’d like to strap all those animals down and fry them but good.”
“Well, a lot of people agree with you. Old Sparky got retired a long time ago.
“They’re more humane now; with the lethal injection, you’re out and gone in an instant. Still, some people complain the needle hurts going in, and that’s still cruel and inhuman. Go figure.”
She poked him hard with the SIG in his ribs. “Do you honestly believe for a single minute your fed buddies are going to catch me? Do you honestly believe you’ll see me on death row?” She was shaking her head back and forth as she spoke. Then she laughed. “Not in your lifetime, boy.”
“I guess you’re in control of my lifetime right now, Kirsten. I wasn’t the one who flipped the switch on your daddy. Take it easy, okay?”
She laughed again, then turned reflective. “You know, Coop, I always believed it would be nice to visit Daddy’s grave site, say some prayers, since I’ll bet no one else ever has. But he wasn’t buried, they cremated him. They fried him, then they burned him!”
Coop slowed a bit to let a sports car rocket past him. Too bad it wasn’t Savich’s Porsche. He shot a quick look in the rearview mirror. Traffic was getting thicker now, but there wasn’t any sign of a Porsche. Or a police car, for that matter. He had to be patient. He just had to stay alive.
He asked her, “What did they do with his ashes?”
“I couldn’t find out for sure. Some say his ashes were scattered in the Cascades, but I don’t believe that for a minute. They probably made it up, one of those media myths. Yeah, if anything, they threw away his ashes.”
She was angry now, breathing hard, and he didn’t want to get shot. He kept his voice low and calm. “You read all about your daddy on the Internet, right? That’s how you know all about him?”
She turned empty eyes to him. “Yeah, I’m an expert on my daddy, but it wasn’t the same thing as really knowing him, having him hug me, tell me how much he loved me, admired me. I thought about what he and I could have done together, and I got to where I’d ask him his advice, you know, should I put out the lights of that little bitch who disrespected me? Sometimes it was like he answered me; I’d see exactly what to do. But he wasn’t ever really there for me, thanks to my mother.” She paused for a moment, never looking away from him. “I’m thinking maybe we’ll go to Starke Prison, maybe hang out in Raiford; then again, maybe we won’t. I’ll figure it all out; I always do. I’m real lucky that way, lots of brain power. From my daddy, not my bitch of a mother.”
He gave her a smile. “I’ve never been to Starke Prison before. Maybe that’s not a bad idea.”
“You think some of those bozo guards are going to rescue you? Fat chance.” She grunted, shoved the SIG against his side again. “I’ll bet you the cell where they locked Daddy was cold and damp, and you couldn’t breathe right, you know?”
“No, I don’t know, and neither do you. Kirsten, you’re going to have to sleep soon, and so am I, or I might wreck us.”
“We’ll take our chances on that, Coop,” she said, looking at all the traffic around them. “We’re going to put some distance between us and that parking lot in Fort Grant. I wouldn’t want any of you feds getting lucky.”
“How could anyone know about this car?”
“It seems to me this Savich guy knows stuff he shouldn’t.”
That was true enough.
She was silent, never looking away from his face. “It was so weird, when I had Savich lined up in my sights, and then your girlfriend slammed into him. It doesn’t make any sense. He was standing there alone, none of you near him, asking for me to shoot him, and I did, but down he went, and my shot was high.”
“Kirsten, you simply missed him, okay? We all thought you’d want to get in his face when you killed him.”
She shrugged. “Shooting him seemed like a decent idea at the time. Hey, I know where I want to go. Did you know I’ve got a little sister? I figure she’s nearly thirty now.”