The Soul Catcher

CHAPTER 71

“Come in,” Everett yelled, not even bothering to check whom he was allowing to enter his hotel room. Could it possibly be any easier?

He smiled and rolled the room service tray into the room. Then he waited. The excitement, the anticipation was better than any homemade concoction the Zulu tribe could brew. After all, this was the moment he had been waiting for all along. And so he stood patiently and waited as if expecting a tip.

Finally Everett turned, his hand ready to wave him away, when his eyes swept across his face, then back. A quick double take.

“You? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Thought I might bring you a treat, a surprise before your last rally.”

“I would think you’d be down wandering around, looking for another young girl. Looking for ways to destroy me.”

“I can’t take all the credit.”

Everett shook his head, discounting him, unafraid as if he were one of his ordinary followers. “Go away,” he told him. “Go and leave me alone. I’m tired of your shenanigans. You’re lucky to have gotten away with only warnings.”

“Right. Only warnings. Is that because you wouldn’t dare hurt your own son? Is that the only reason I’ve been so lucky?”

Everett stared at him. But there was no surprise. Had he known all along? No. It was impossible. It was simply another one of his performances.

“How did you find out?” His voice was calm, steady.

Oh, Jesus! He did know. Did it make this more difficult? Or no, it would make it easier. The bastard knew. All these years and he knew.

“She told you before she died,” Everett said, as if he had known all about it, as if her death was something he shared. He had no right and yet he continued, “I read about her death. I think it was in the New York Times or perhaps the Daily News. You know I did care about her. Did she tell you that, too?”

He wouldn’t listen. It was lies. “No, she didn’t tell me that. She managed to leave that part out of her journal.” He needed to confine the anger, but the concoction had already begun to seep into his system, and Everett’s words felt like hot, liquid lava scalding his brain, contaminating his memories. “But she did mention what you did to her. There are pages and pages about that. About what kind of a bastard you really are.”

He felt his fingers twisting into fists. Yes, he’d let the anger fuel him. The anger and the precious words of his mother, that mantra he had memorized from her journal entries. Her words had empowered him throughout his mission. They wouldn’t fail him now.

“I wondered when you would find out.” Everett’s voice still sounded too calm, not a hint of fear. “I knew it was only a matter of time. I thought perhaps that was what all this was about-all those young girls. You were trying to get back at me, weren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You wanted to hurt me.” Everett smiled as he gave him a nod of confirmation, almost acceptance, as if it was exactly what he had expected from a son of his. “Maybe you even wanted to punish me?”

“Yes.”

“Destroy my reputation.”

“Destroy you.”

The smile disappeared.

“There’s only one thing left now,” he said, picking up the tray from the room service cart. He held it out to Everett, and with his other hand lifted the insulated cover. The tray was empty except for one small red-and-white capsule, sitting on a perfectly folded cloth napkin.