First Do No Evil: Blood Secrets, Book 1 (37 page)

The air around her began to vibrate, and her head, suddenly too heavy for her neck, bobbed to her chest. Her legs gave way beneath her, and she crumpled to her knees. She couldn’t catch her breath. Pressing her hand to her heart she gasped, and then choked out the words, “You hired Steve Regan…to kill Papa? To rape me?”

His voice rose with alarm. “God no. Steve wasn’t supposed to hurt
you
. I only wanted our parents’ life insurance money for seed money…
for Bella
. It was all for Bella. Don’t you see? And when I walked in and found Steve…touching you, I went out of my mind.”

His foot tapped the dirty snow violently. “I’d never killed anyone before Steve. Not with my own two hands anyway. There was that boy, Timmy, but that was before I knew Isabella, and that was accomplished indirectly—more of an experiment in manipulating others than anything else.
Timmy
has nothing to do with this.”

Something dark and vile was pumping through her body and turning her stone cold. She closed her eyes. She imagined Garth hacking open her veins, but no blood spurted out. Instead she bled black—
black poison
.

“You killed Papa for money.”

“You make me sound selfish and cruel. But think about it, Sky. You must realize I could have had Steve kill you too. Then I could’ve had
all
the money. But I didn’t do that. I let you live and keep your share of the inheritance—for med school and that damn clinic. Because that’s what Isabella would have wanted. I didn’t kill your father for money. I killed him for Bella. I’m
trying
to make the world a better place.”

Somehow, she managed to get to her feet.

“Now that you understand me better. Now that you see how badly I need your forgiveness, surely you can find that forgiveness in your heart. Yours has always been such a good heart.”

“But what about you, Garth? Where is
your
heart?”

“I haven’t got one, Sky. If I did, how could I have borne my life? Say you forgive me. If not for my sake, then for your own, don’t carry this to the grave with you.”

To the grave
.

Her cheeks were wet with tears, and her pulses bounded with hate. Her body was shaking with rage. Of their own volition her eyes closed, but she forced them open again. She didn’t want to go to her grave with black poison sludging through her veins; she didn’t want to die with hatred in her heart. Raising her eyes, she looked at Garth.

“I forgive you,” she said.

The wind picked up.

Dust and snow began to swirl furiously around her. She and Garth became the center of a funnel cloud made from the dirt beneath their feet and the snow falling from above. Moonlight and wind stirred and mixed the pure with the impure, the beautiful with the ugly. The cloud hummed and whirred, and she and Garth became the apex.

He raised his pistol.

A blinding flash.

A sting in her chest.

Darkness.

Kneeling, Danny dipped a finger in a dark ball of sand and pulled out clotted blood. He lifted his finger to his nose and sniffed it like an animal, as if by scent, he could determine whose blood it was:
Sky’s. Katie’s. Garth’s
.

Before him, the ruins disappeared in a haze. His heart pumped so hard his veins hummed. Either he was terribly afraid or savagely angry.

Savagely angry
.

He pictured squeezing the trigger of his pistol and putting a bullet straight through Garth’s heart. He relished the idea of spilling
Garth’s
blood. And with that image shining in his mind, he hastened up the path, following the blood. The trail started with thick clumps in the ancient ball court, and then thinned to a spatter on the section of dirt and snow that led to the Big House. The large pueblo had once provided shelter to hundreds of families, and its decayed remains were full of nooks and corners that would serve to conceal his enemy.

The full moon and open path, on the other hand, provided no cover whatsoever for Danny. If Garth was watching from The Big House, he had both a clear view and a clear shot, at least until Danny reached the pueblo. Even then he was going to have difficulty concealing his approach due to the open structure of the remains. If he could somehow get to the roof however, he’d be above Garth’s line of vision—in sniper position.

For now though, he had no coverage, so he jogged forward out in the open. Despite his vulnerable position, he felt enveloped, protected. This had been sacred ground to the ancients, and he sensed their spirits permeating the atmosphere, infusing the song of the wind, the howling of coyotes, even the mundane noise of scraping branches. These natural sounds were part of the fabric of the night, and Danny strained to listen past them. Listening for a tear in that fabric, he froze, and then, he heard them: The sounds that ripped open the night.

Voices
.

Not arguing. Not screaming. Controlled voices of a man and a woman speaking so calm they might have been visitors taking a tour of the ruins. But these voices did not belong to tourists. They belonged to Garth and Sky. Using the voices to pinpoint their location, Danny pressed on until he arrived at the proximal end of The Big House. He studied the decaying bricks, and despite the nature of his mission, for a moment, his photographer’s eye honed in on the orbs of moonlight which hung on the sandstone walls like a ceremonial necklace. Closing his eyes, he shuttered away the distractions and refocused his attention on the voices. They emanated from the opposite side of the pueblo, about midway down.

Releasing a measured, quiet breath, he inched his way along the front of a low wall. Garth and Sky were on the back side of the complex. Yes. He’d decided. He was going over the top, going to try to find a good sniper’s nest. He stole further toward the middle, taking care to make no noise, or at least no noise that couldn’t have been made by an animal creeping in the night. The pitch of the voices changed from low to high signaling an increase in the speakers’ stress level. Danny’s pulse accelerated. His eyes squeezed shut as he listened past his fear. One voice was conspicuously absent.

He didn’t hear Katie
.

Maybe Katie had gotten away. Maybe Katie was hiding somewhere in the night. He forced his eyes open.

Please God
.

Let that be the reason he didn’t hear his daughter speaking.

Sucking in oxygen to fuel his brain and his muscles, he focused his will on the image of Katie, curled up in a hiding place, and the pounding in his chest eased.

She’s safe
.

Reaching high, he found purchase in the irregular adobe bricks. Hoisting himself up, he began to climb.

“Please say you forgive me.” The desperate, pleading undertone in Garth’s voice surprised Danny.

Such an unexpected request from a man who cared for no one
.

Another foothold.

More scrambling.

Once he’d scaled the second story wall, he hefted his body into the remains of an unroofed room, walled in only on three sides. Time and the elements had long since destroyed the roof and back wall of the structure. Hundreds of years old, the apartment floor might not be in the best condition, but he had few options. The element of surprise was worth the risk of crossing the un-buttressed floor, which served as a ceiling to the apartment below. And the floor had survived all this time, hopefully it could bear up under one man’s weight.

A few years back, he’d been called to assist in the rescue of a boy who’d fallen through thin ice. Recalling how a ladder had been laid across the ice to help distribute the weight of the rescuers, he carefully lowered himself onto his belly to lessen the impact of his bulk on the unsupported floor. Traversing the rungs of an imaginary ladder, he dragged himself toward the voices, at the open side of the pueblo.

He reached the edge.

Hands curled around the shallow ledge of the floor, he hung his head over the side of the apartment. Neither Garth nor Sky looked up. For now, he was invisible. Danny had a plain view of the pair, but there was one problem with his plan. He’d have to point and shoot while hanging his head and upper body upside down over the ledge.

Balancing precariously, he locked his elbows and maneuvered his body into position. Garth was crouching a few yards away, his back toward Danny. Sky, trembling, and bloodied, faced Garth.

“I forgive you,” she said.

Danny dropped his head and shoulders further off the ledge. Blood rushed to his face, and his temples pounded from the pressure. He’d never fired his weapon from this position, but the same principles applied.

He locked his elbows.

Gripped his pistol tight.

Pointed dead-center-motherfucker.

Danny squeezed the trigger, and as the ledge gave way beneath him, dirt and debris rained down into the room below. The wind picked up the debris, stirred it with snow and moonlight, turned the cloud of dust into a virtual tornado. When the floor dropped out from under him, his pistol flew from his hand.

A gunshot rent the air. A muzzle flashed.

Sky fell to the ground.

Danny landed on Garth’s back. Threw his knees around Garth’s sides, his elbow across Garth’s windpipe. Squeezed. Crushed. Yelled. Garth let out a fierce growl. Bent. Bucked. Galloped toward the wall. Danny hung on. His head hit the wall. Garth reared back and ran forward again and again, using Danny’s skull as a battering ram.

Exploding, thundering pain.

Sandstone missiles peppered the air and pelted him in the face. He squeezed his legs around Garth’s waist, and Garth rammed him against the wall again. Danny’s vision blurred. His neck snapped back. His muscles went slack, and he slid off Garth’s back onto the ground.

Garth jumped on top of him, his left hand around Danny’s throat, choking him with a strength beyond his size. Managing a thumbless grip, Danny wrenched Garth’s wrist backwards. Then Garth kneed him in the chest. Danny felt the air leave his lungs in a whoosh. His biceps collapsed. Garth tugged his arm, and like a soapy ring sliding from a fat finger, Danny lost his grip on Garth’s wrist.

He got it back again.

Garth’s pistol wobbled to and fro as the men struggled for dominance. Danny squeezed Garth’s wrist with all his might, and the Glock spun across the dirt floor of the apartment. Garth jumped off him.

Danny was still flat on his back.

He could breathe again, but his troubles were far from over.

Garth had chased down the gun.

His heart slowed, thudded in his ears.

NO!

He tried to sit, but the aching muscles in his back collapsed from the effort. His nerves buzzed under his skin. He couldn’t leave Katie without a mother or a father.

Pushing against the ground with his elbows, he used the strength in his arms to heft his upper body halfway off the dirt.

“Freeze!” Garth yelled from across the room. “Isn’t that what you law enforcement types always say right before you pull the trigger?” A sneer curled into his voice. “Now it’s my turn. You should have left well enough alone, Benson. And you sure as hell should have stayed away from my sister.”

“Drop the gun!”

It was Sky.

Garth’s aim must have been deflected when Danny fell on him. Sky’s voice sounded strong and brave. And Danny could see her stance: Feet shoulder width apart, no more than that; a little bit crouched, elbows locked…gripping his pistol…

Pointing dead-center-mother-fucker.

Just like he’d taught her.

Sky didn’t want to do this. Didn’t know if she
could
do this.

She pointed Danny’s pistol at the center of Garth’s back. “Drop your gun!”

Without turning, Garth replied calmly, “You won’t shoot me.”

He was her brother
.

“Drop! The gun!” she ordered.

“You won’t shoot me.”

Her eyes fell on Danny. “Last warning! Drop your gun!”

“Sorry, little sister, but I know you too well. You won’t shoot me, because you haven’t got it in you.” Keeping his weapon aimed at Danny, Garth turned his head toward her. His eyes gleamed with some unholy fire. “Watch this.”

A flash of motion from his wrist.

Her hand didn’t even tremble.

As she squeezed the trigger and emptied the Glock, muzzle flashes sprayed the night like reflections from a mirrored ball.

Garth reeled backwards, landing against the decayed wall of the pueblo.

Scarlet blooms crept over the bricks like climbing roses.

Garth’s body sagged, and then crumpled to the earth.

“Isabella,”
he gasped
.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Sky lifted her face to heaven. Above her, stars saturated the night. A wolf moon glowed. Her chest heaved a silent sob, and a white light streaked across the darkness: a shooting star.

“Daddy
.
Daddy
.
Daddy
,
”
cried the wind.

Dropping her gaze, she turned her head just in time to see a fluffy pink parka dart across the night and run straight into Danny’s open arms.