Victor had been one of the most efficient predators Tyrel had ever met.
This man isn’t going to let the death of his son go unchallenged, Tyrel told himself.
If there was ever a man who lived to get his pound of flesh from anyone who crossed him, it was Victor Gant.
But that night Denny had died- No. The night you killed Denny, Tyrel amended-Victor Gant had become a savior. He’d gotten Tyrel out of the worst thing that had ever happened to him.
At least, that was what Tyrel had thought at the time. That was before everything he’d done had followed him home and staked out a piece of his hopes and dreams for the last forty years.
Without warning, Tyrel’s hands started to shake. His vision misted. He wiped his mouth with the back of his arm and thought he was going to be sick.
26
›› Mecklenburg County Medical Examiner
›› 618 North College Street
›› Charlotte, North Carolina
›› 0420 Hours
Victor Gant walked fearlessly through the morgue. His boots thumped against the tiled floor. The red glare of the exit signs shone against the floor’s surface and made it look like coals burned underneath. Almost as if he were walking above the pits of hell.
Victor’s quick research had indicated that the offices closed down at five and that everyone went home shortly after that. An answering service picked up any after-hours calls.
Except for the lone security guard, Victor had the place to himself. They’d gotten a description of the layout from a Mexican janitor who’d worked there until he was busted selling weed. After the question was raised at the bar, Shaky Carl had come up with the ex-janitor’s name.
In minutes, Victor was in the vault. The book listing the locations of the bodies-apparently nobody completely trusted the computer systems-was on the desk.
Victor plucked a pair of disposable surgical gloves from a box near the chemicals and equipment, then strode to the desk and flipped through the book’s pages and found the latest entries.
Bobby Lee’s name was there.
Stomach tight and temples pounding, Victor tossed the book back onto the desk and stepped over to the vault area. He took hold of the handle and pulled.
The table extended outward soundlessly.
There wasn’t enough light to see clearly, so Victor took his Zippo from his pocket and spun the striker. The yellow and blue flame climbed upward and brightened the room.
Even though he’d steeled himself for what he was about to see, Victor’s heart thudded to a stop inside his chest.
Bobby Lee lay on the table. Two bullets had punched through his face, leaving hideous wounds behind. His lower jaw was shattered and torn loose. The second bullet had punched through his cheek under his right eye.
Then Victor’s heart restarted with an explosion that filled him to bursting and quickly subsided.
“I will kill the man that killed you,” Victor whispered. “I never gave you any promises while you were alive, but I promise you that now.”
He bent down and kissed his dead son’s forehead.
A footstep scuffed the floor outside the room.
›› Intensive Care Unit
›› Presbyterian Hospital
›› Charlotte, North Carolina
›› 0423 Hours
“Hey, Don.”
Don rolled over on his side and pulled the blanket up over his shoulder. If he was lucky, Shel would forget about him for another ten minutes and he could get some more sleep. All he needed was a few more minutes and he’d be-
“Hey, man, come on. Wake up.”
Don ignored Shel.
“Don.” Shel’s voice was louder now. He had always been the one more like their daddy. Shel and Daddy always got up at the crack of dawn, even if both of them had gotten to bed late the night before.
“Hey.”
Exasperated, Don said, “Give it a rest, Shel. A few more minutes isn’t going to kill anybody.”
“Your phone is ringing. Wake up.”
Worn to the bone, Don rolled over and looked up at the dark ceiling while he waited for his brain to make the necessary connections. Then he remembered; he was in the hospital in North Carolina with Shel.
“You awake?” Shel asked.
“Yeah.” Don listened. “I don’t hear a phone.”
“That’s because it stopped ringing.”
“Oh.” Don groaned as he sat up.
“So how’s that chair for sleeping?” Shel taunted.
“Remember when we had to sleep out in the barn when the cows were calving?”
“Yeah.”
“Those were good times by comparison.”
“I remember. Me and Daddy would be awake all night, and you’d sleep most of it away.”
Don heard the country accent come back into Shel’s words. It was funny listening to it happen. Shel had cleaned up his diction a lot after he’d entered the Marines. A lot of the men he’d served with had been merciless about accents, and he’d had a bad one.
“Not my fault. I’ve always needed more sleep than you guys.” Don rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes.
“You going to see who called?”
“What time is it?”
“About four thirty.”
Don thought about that. “Joanie and the kids won’t be up by now.” Then he factored in the time difference. “It’s three thirty in Texas.” Since it wasn’t the family, that narrowed the possibility to a parishioner at his church. Don had a reputation for being a good counselor and a lot of people had his cell phone number.
He laid his head back and closed his eyes. All he needed was a few more minutes of sleep.
“Don,” Shel said.
“Yeah.”
“You need to check that phone?”
Don fumbled with his pocket. “Why are you awake?”
“The night nurse is cute. I didn’t want to miss her.”
“Thanks for that.”
“You’re too married to appreciate things like that.”
Don peered at his brother. He could barely make him out in the darkness. “You sound better.”
“I feel better. I’m ready to get out of here.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
Shel sighed. “This being laid up is going to be wearisome.”
“You should enjoy the downtime.”
“I wasn’t made for downtime.”
Don silently agreed with that. He didn’t know who was more driven: Shel or their daddy. When he opened the phone and checked under recent calls, he was surprised at the number he found.
