Dead Run

CHAPTER 54

Wednesday, November 21

5:40 p.m.

Carla stood at her front window, peering nervously out at the storm, waiting for Rick. The rain had hit during her ferry ride back from Sunset Key. It had begun as a drizzle; by the time she had reached the safety of her porch, it had become a downpour.

She swung away from the window and started to pace. Where was he? She couldn’t quell her growing sense of dread. Shivering, she rubbed her arms.

The wind howled. Lightning flashed. She hugged herself. Every time she closed her eyes she saw dirty old Bernhardt grunting and sweating as he screwed the two teenagers doggy-style, moving between the two as if feasting at a smorgasbord. It made her sick. It infuriated her.

Bernhardt had been a sick bastard and she was glad he was dead. Heather Ferguson, on the other hand, was evil. But worst by far had been Tara ’s tortured expression during the entire ordeal. A lost soul, Carla thought, squeezing her eyes shut against the haunting image. An innocent lamb to the slaughter.

A prayer popped into Carla’s head, one repeated daily in the early years of her life but long ago relegated to the far recesses of her consciousness.

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name-

From the back of her cottage came a scraping sound, like her rear door opening. She froze. “Rick?” she called. “Is that you?”

Silence answered her. Heart thundering, she drew her service revolver and made her way to the back of the house. Her hands shook as she crept forward, bits and pieces of the Lord’s Prayer playing through her head.

– and deliver us from evil, for thine-

She nudged open her bedroom door. Empty.

– is the kingdom, the power and the-

She swung into the bathroom, gun out. Nothing.

– glory, forever and ever-

She reached the kitchen. The rear door had popped partially open. Rain had blown in, bringing leaves and flower petals, making a mess. She had forgotten to latch the door; this had happened before.

She laughed nervously as she laid her gun on the counter, then crossed to the door and pushed it shut.

She hated this job. She hated this place.

She wanted to go home.

“Hello, Carla.”

She whirled, realizing her mistake. Metal glinted as it arced toward her; her life flashed before her eyes. She threw her hands up, a scream ripping past her lips, a terrible sound drowned out by the howl of Rebekah’s wind.