Split Second

CHAPTER 58

Delaney Park

Saturday morning

Savich flicked the Frisbee to Sean, who yelled as he caught it, then whipped it off to Coop, who, surprised, had to back up ten feet to snag it out of the air.

Lucy whistled. “Great throw, Sean. You had Coop on his heels.”

“Looks like another champion Frisbee player,” Sherlock said, and promptly dropped the Frisbee Coop sailed to her.

“Mama, you dropped it! We’ve got to start over!”

Sherlock apologized, promised to pay attention, and sent the Frisbee toward Lucy. They got into a nice steady rhythm until it was Sean’s turn to miss one. He picked up the Frisbee, hugged it to his chest, and did a little dance. “I dropped it, but it doesn’t matter. We broke the record. Twenty-one catches without dropping it. I counted real careful, Mama. Marty won’t believe it. You’ll tell her it was twenty-one times, won’t you?”

“Yep, I swear.”

Marty Perry wouldn’t be happy, she thought, ruffling her son’s dark hair and smiling into his glowing face.

At least the weatherman hadn’t lied—it was a lovely morning, bright sunshine, the temperature hugging sixty. Another dozen Frisbee throws and all of them would be tossing off their jackets. The small meadow in the park was empty except for the five of them. Soon, though, Sherlock knew, more families would show up, excited kids in tow, and the Frisbee circle would steadily grow larger as Sean, always ready to make new friends, invited kids and parents to join until it was a zoo. The adults would then diplomatically excuse themselves so it was a kids-only Frisbee fest.

But for now, Sean wanted to throw the Frisbee farther and farther—okay if they missed now, since they’d broken the record—until Savich saw Sean was panting, his face red. “Let’s take a break,” he called out, flipped the Frisbee to Sherlock, and headed for the cooler set against a huge old oak tree. He grinned, hearing Sean announce to Coop and Lucy that Daddy was tired.

He’d just turned, smiling, with bottles of lemonade in his hands, when there was a loud cracking sound.

Savich flew backward, blood spurting out of his chest.