Blood Red

“Of course.” Angie was standing now, her face set into an ugly expression of hatred and disappointment. Brian felt like a slug. He was responsible for everything and he knew it, but he was also trying to make it all right again. If she would let him, and the little bastard would take the bait.

“I have the packages. If everything checks out, you will have your life back in two hours.”

“I understand, thank you.”

“Officer? Do I have to explain what will happen if you try to pull a fast one?”

“No, of course not.”

“Have a good night.”

Brian hung up the phone and looked at Angie. “That was the bank. Everything is settled.”

“Seriously?” She smiled a tentative, nervous little smile. Her face was suddenly beautiful again.

“Yeah, babe. Seriously, it’s all taken care of.” He moved to her and she hugged him tightly, awkwardly shifting a bit to protect their unborn child. That thought suddenly filled him with wonder. He had a child coming into the world. A new life that was forming in the belly of the woman he’d married and promised to love, honor, and respect.

Something had to change. He knew that. He just didn’t want it to. He liked his secret life, and he liked the power to screw with girls’ minds and leave them worrying.

He didn’t want to give that up.

So, of course, he had made proper provisions.

For the next hour or so, he was going to stay home. Then he would go back to the car and find his little Radio Shack tracking device, the one he’d slipped into the cardboard box that was probably being carried away right now.

And then he would make good and damned sure that someone never messed with him again.

Angie kissed his mouth and he kissed back, remembering all the reasons that he loved her. She was sore and pregnant, and she still wanted him.

Really, that was all he’d ever wanted out of life, to be needed. And if he was getting a little on the side, it was just gravy.

They made love, carefully, but they made love. This was different. Angie was special. She wasn’t like the girls he spent time with. She didn’t cry when it was happening, or when it was over.

III

Avery Tripp slipped out of the house as carefully as he could. The folks were still busy “talking,” which made it a little easier. Talking was what they called it whenever they needed down time and decided to close the bedroom door. He had no idea what they were up to, but it left Dad in a good mood, so it couldn’t be a bad thing.

The yard was dark, but the lawn was so precisely mowed it could have been done by the barber that handled his crew cut, so he wasn’t worried. Besides, he knew the way to Teddy’s place like the back of his hand.

Teddy left school early and he hated when that happened. His best friend was his main reason for going to school in the first place. Okay, and because his folks would boil him in oil if he didn’t. But mainly it was because Teddy was there and he was cool to hang around with.

The road was well-lit and the lawns on either side of him offered exactly enough bushes—because the people here liked their privacy—to let him move toward the Lister place without any fear of being discovered.

He saw the crows looking down at him and stopped in his tracks. They were everywhere, great skulking black shadows that moved and from time to time chattered softly to each other.

Mostly they just looked at him. Avery looked back, smiling at the gathering. What was it Dad said they were called when they were all together like that? “A murder of crows,” he said, savoring the title. He liked the sound of that.

The birds didn’t intimidate him; they were just birds. So Avery started down the way again, listening for cars and minding his own business. Jayce Thornton was playing havoc with his thoughts lately. She was cute. He liked her. He also knew that if she spoke to him, he would explode into flames.

The last time she’d talked to him had been to see if she could borrow his notes after she had to stay home for a day. He’d had to write them up for her, because he could barely even read his own handwriting on the originals, and he’d been drawing stuff all along the edges. Nothing dirty, just things he didn’t want anyone to see.

These days he always made a copy of his notes, just in case. Funny thing about that: His grades had gotten way better ever since he had decided to make copies. If there was a connection, he refused to see it.

“It’s rather late to be out by yourself, don’t you think?” The voice belonged to a stranger, and Avery froze in his tracks. He looked around and saw the man a moment later, but he almost had to strain to make him out.

Dark black clothes hid most of his body, and heavy shadows obscured a good part of his face. But he was smiling pleasantly enough.

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” It was a good line to use when he was nervous. The man made him want to run screaming.

“Yes. I think maybe you’re not supposed to be out walking alone this time of night, either.”

Okay. The guy had him dead to rights on that one.