Ray Hoy - Jack Frost 01 - The Vegas Factor Read Online Free PDF Page B

before things started coming apart, she had told me she was part witch. I can still conjure up her exact words: “I am part witch, you know. Jonathan knew it, too. He kidded me, but he knew it was true.”  
    She had smiled at the time, but I remember thinking that she appeared to be dead serious. I also remember the chill it had given me when she said, “I see things, now and then. Numbers, for instance, at a roulette wheel. Not always, of course. If I saw them all the time, I wouldn’t do anything else but sit at a roulette wheel. But it happens often enough to be spooky.”
    * * *
    I walked out of the grocery store in Zephyr Cove and hurried to my car, my arms full of groceries. I fired up the Jag and headed for home, filled with an unexplainable sense of urgency.  
    A brisk, steady breeze produced a broad sweep of swirling color as the trees gave up their leaves; they fluttered to the ground by the thousands. Today was a beauty: brilliant, cold and clear. Yellow and red leaves covered the ground. An occasional gust of wind blew them into the air. Then they slowly settled to the ground again in ever-tightening circles. Some of the trees stood in naked silence, already stripped of their foliage, preparing for the approaching Lake Tahoe winter.  
    I patted the Jag’s steering wheel. With the long snow season approaching, it wouldn’t be long before I’d get her ready for hibernation and start driving the Land Rover.
    I’m a bit quirky, and even I know it. Every now and then I feel it’s time to take inventory of myself, and this was one of those times. I ran through the little list of my good and bad points—or at least those I was aware of:
    1. I’m basically blessed with an irrepressible nature. If all of Al-Qaeda were in Reno, I’d still feel like I would come out on top, even if I had nothing but a handful of rocks. That’s one for me.
    2. I am an eternal optimist. Hey, I’m doing okay here.
    3. At the same time, I consider myself a hard-core realist, which can be a real downer at times. Good? Bad? Probably fifty-fifty.
    4. I have more self-confidence than a man probably should have. However, since I’m doing the judging here, I’m still going to put a check mark on the “Good” side of the ledger.
    5. I don’t like to lose—at anything. Good? Bad? I chose fifty-fifty again.
    6. If I’m given a “take it or leave it,” I’ll always leave it. Absolutely good.
    7. I bore easily. Probably bad.
    I suddenly realized I was tired of the game. I laughed. “See Number 7, preceding,” I said aloud.
    I was sure it would all work out. “See Number 2, above!”  
    But I was also sure it was going to be a long, rough road ahead. “Number 3!” I said to the car.
    I don’t care who Varchetta sends to grab Felicia, I will kick his ass royally and send him home whimpering. “Number 4!” I yelled. “Definitely Number 4!”
    Nothing is going to happen to her. Nothing, by God! “Number 1!” I shouted. “Not a doubt … Number 1!”

    I took the steps two at a time and let myself into the cabin. I stood inside the door listening to deep silence. The ashes in the fireplace looked cold. I shut the door quietly behind me. From the bedroom, Felicia’s voice rose and fell. I couldn’t understand what she was saying, but I did recognize a broken-hearted woman’s desperation and grief.  
    I eased the bedroom door open and stood there. She was a pathetic sight. She lay on the bed, her naked body gleaming with perspiration. Her long black hair was damp and uncombed, her eyes swollen from crying. She appeared to be in pain, her hands balled up into little fists. Ripper lay on the bed with her, looking as miserable as I’ve ever seen him. His huge head lay between her breasts. He whined, lifted his head and looked at me for help, then lowered his head again.
    Occasionally, she hit the brute in the head with a flailing fist. He never flinched, just whimpered and looked even more miserable.  
    Her eyes opened