Out of the Dark Read Online Free PDF

brother-in-law, Rob Wilson, severely, “that I am the master of my household. My lightest whim is law, my least desire instantly realized by all about me.”
    “Sure.” Wilson rolled his eyes. “You do remember that I’ve known my sweet little sister for, oh, the better part of forty years?”
    “If that’s the case, then I think you might want to reconsider the phrase ‘the better part of’ when it comes in front of that particular number,” Dvorak replied.
    “I can still take her three falls out of four,” Wilson replied, elevating his nose slightly.
    “I seem to remember a Thanksgiving dinner when she got hold of your asp and pretty nearly broke your right kneecap,” Dvorak said in a reminiscent tone.
    “Only because I didn’t want to
hurt
her.”
    “Yeah, sure.” Dvorak looked away from the road for a moment to grin at his brother-in-law. “You sure you weren’t afraid she was the one who was going to hurt
you?
”
    “Well, I guess the possibility—the
remote
possibility, you understand—had crossed my mind,” Wilson allowed. Both of them chuckled, and Dvorak returned his attention to the rain-streaked windshield.
    The two men got along well. Dvorak, an NRA-certified firearms instructor, ran an indoor shooting range. Wilson, after twenty years in the US Marine Corps, had gone into law enforcement. He’d risen to sergeant with one of the smaller upstate municipalities and served as the force’s designated marksmanship instructor before a high-speed car chase and a nasty collision led to a broken leg, significant loss of mobility, and a medical retirement. One of the best pistol shots Dvorak had ever met (he routinely ran the tables in the once-a-week pin-shooting contests at Dvorak’s range), he’d moonlighted helping Dvorak out while he was on the force. He’d gotten his own NRA certification back when he was his police force’s senior instructor, as well, so it had been logical for him to buy an interest in the business and go to work there full-time. It was a comfortable arrangement, and one which gave both of them the opportunity to expend a great deal of ammunition every week . . . and get paid for it. Sharon Dvorak and Veronica Wilson referred to it as “boys and their toys,” but neither Dvorak nor Wilson minded that. Anyway, both of the women had been known to outshoot them.
    Deer season was one of their favorite times of year, although as he looked out the windshield at the day’s weather Dvorak wondered exactly why that was. Of course, it was only five o’clock. There was plenty of time for the weather to get better before dawn, he reminded himself.
    At the moment they were on US-276, headed towards the small town of Travelers Rest, with their ultimate destination the Caesars Head / Jones GapWildlife Management Area just south of the South Carolina–North Carolina state line. Dvorak’s deer season had been disappointing to date—he’d only gotten to use up one of his tags so far—and Wilson had been fairly insufferable about it, since
he
only had one tag
left
. Had the ratio been reversed, Dvorak suspected, he would have opted to remain warmly in bed this sodden October morning. Such, alas, was the weakness of his character.
    Well,
he thought, leaning forward and peering through the upper quadrant of the windshield at the still black heavens,
at least if I do fill a tag today, I’ll have damn well earned it
. He grinned, sitting back again.
I can see it now. “Here, woman—hunter brings back food. Go. Cook!”
He shook his head.
I’d be lucky if she didn’t decide to cook
me
! Assuming, of course, that I wasn’t the cook in the first place
.
    Thunder rumbled overhead, loud enough to be audible even through the hissing sound of tires on rain-soaked asphalt, but he studiously failed to hear it.

. II .

    The attention signal whistled on Fleet Commander Thikair’s communicator.
    He would remember later how prosaic and . . . normal it had sounded, but at that moment,