The Executioner

Hundred and Forty-Two

Christmas Day

Garcia opened the door wearing the tackiest sweater Hunter had ever seen – a purple, red, pink and lime-green furry monstrosity that looked at least two sizes too big. His nose was bandaged as if he’d been through a nose job. Dark bruises under both of his eyes.

‘Whoa.’ Hunter jumped back pointing at Garcia’s sweater. ‘Does that thing bite?’

‘I know, I know.’ Garcia put on a face. ‘My mother knitted it for me. She brought it over this morning. I have to wear it or else she’ll be upset.’

‘She’s punishing you, that’s what she’s doing.’

‘Yeah, probably. Come in,’ Garcia said, showing him into the apartment. The Christmas tree in the far corner of the room was alive with flickering lights and decorations. Soft, old-fashioned seasonal music and a rainbow of mouth-watering smells warmed the room.

‘How’s the arm?’ Garcia asked.

‘Still hurts, but nothing I can’t handle. I have to give the gym a miss for a few months, though.’

‘And that’s what worries you the most, isn’t it?’

Hunter shrugged. ‘How’s the nose?’

‘Broken. I’ll have to give up head-butting for a few months,’ he teased. ‘I heard you got a call from the mayor, and it wasn’t to talk about his wife.’

An indifferent shrug this time.

‘You’re flavor of the month, Robert. You’re in everyone’s good books, including Captain Blake and Chief Collins. Two serial killers in one night? That’s gotta be a new record. Did you hear they finally found James Reed?’

Hunter nodded.

‘We were right; he never left Los Angeles County. His lover lives in Ranchos Palos Verdes. We couldn’t find the car because it was in her garage. How’s Mollie?’

‘She’s OK, considering. She’s been sedated for the past two days.’

‘What’s gonna happen to her?’

A subtle shake of the head. ‘She will decide. She’s eighteen today, legally an adult. But I’ve already talked to a very good friend of mine who happens to be one of the best psychiatrists in Los Angeles. She agreed to see Mollie free of charge for as long as it takes. Mollie’s been through a hell of a lot and she’ll need a lot of help. I’ll do my best to be there for her.’

‘I know you will.’ Garcia smiled. ‘She can also count on me.’

‘I’m dropping by later this afternoon to wish her happy birthday and merry Christmas.’

‘Great. We’ll sort her out a huge plate with a bit of everything. Hospitals’ Christmas meal must suck. Besides, when Anna and my mom get together in the kitchen, they cook enough food to feed a platoon.’

‘I can see.’ Hunter nodded towards the table overcrowded with colorful dishes.

‘And there’s still more to come.’ Anna came out of the kitchen wearing a blue and white apron with the words ‘Kiss the chef’ across the front of it.

‘Don’t mind if I do,’ Hunter said with a smile and kissed her on both cheeks. He was introduced to Garcia’s mother, Janet, a tall and authoritative woman with perfectly styled short blond hair, dazzling blue eyes and the sweetest, most calming voice Hunter had ever heard.

During lunch, Hunter was amused by Janet’s stories of a young Garcia in Brazil.

‘So you used to be good at soccer?’ Hunter asked as he and Garcia did the dishes.

‘I still am,’ Garcia shot back proudly.

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

A few silent seconds went by.

‘There’s something I wanted to ask you, Robert.’

‘Shoot.’

‘I was handcuffed to the chair when I came to. It’s logical to assume Tyler cuffed you as well.’

‘He did.’ Hunter nodded.

‘How the hell did you get out of those handcuffs?’

Hunter smiled. ‘A trick I learned a long time ago.’

‘Care to share?’

‘I always keep two sets of cuff keys with me.’

‘Huh?’

‘I keep a set where everyone expects to find one – together with my handcuffs on my holster. That’s how I could throw Dan the keys when he asked for them. But here’s my magic trick.’ Hunter undid his belt.

‘Hey, hey. If Anna or my mom walks into the kitchen right now, this ain’t gonna look good.’

‘Relax.’ Hunter showed Garcia the secret pocket in the back of his belt. A set of handcuff keys safely tucked inside. ‘It happened to me once before a long time ago. So I decided it’d never happen again. If you ever get caught off guard and you end up handcuffed, nine out of ten times your hands will be cuffed behind your back.’

‘Clever sonofabitch.’ Garcia chuckled. ‘I’m definitely stealing that idea.’