Rusty Nails (The Dade Gibson Case Files) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the car?”
    Liz did as she’d been asked and took the room key to the front desk. She knew when to give him some space. After opening that package and the wounds that had gone with it, Dade probably needed some time alone to think things through.
    It was while she was standing there, enjoying the cool night breeze, that she happened to see Louise Hartwell getting out of her car. Liz felt the urge to run to Dade and drag him down here. But she didn’t want Dade to do anything stupid, and that is exactly what would happen if he knew that Louise Hartwell was skulking around the parking lot. Besides, Louise had a pistol jutting up unnaturally from the waistband of her jeans. If Dade were to see her now, quite likely there would be a shootout, and he might not be the one to walk away. Liz couldn’t bear the thought of that.
    She watched as the heavyset woman waltzed up to one of the doors, inserted a key into the lock, and went in with a nonchalance that suggested she’d gone to this very room a hundred times before. She looked both ways and over her shoulder before entering as if fearful of being seen. Hoping that she could take a little of the burden off of Dade by investigating this herself, Liz waited a few minutes until she was fairly certain that Mrs. Hartwell wasn’t going to rush out in a hail of bullets. Then, she crept as close to the window as she could, praying that no one would mistake her for a peeping tom.
    Alone and unaware that she was being watched, Mrs. Hartwell began methodically removing her clothes and laying each article out on the small table beside the air conditioner. Thankfully, the obese woman didn’t remove everything. She left her bra and panties on. The handgun went underneath one of the pillows. The next five minutes were spent pacing back and forth in front of the television until the stranger with the eerie yellow eyes and the black leather trench coat arrived.
    “Come on in, honey,” Liz heard Mrs. Hartwell say. “Door’s open.”
    Liz watched as the stranger shucked his overcoat, revealing gorgeous maroon wings that looked like they’d been dipped in blood. The look of surprise on his face was proof enough that he hadn’t expected to walk in and see Mrs. Hartwell in such a state of undress. There was a certain burning hunger in his eyes, but it was obvious by the way he steered clear of the big woman that his hunger had nothing to do with her.
    “You’re not why I’m here,” the seraphim said, pulling a wad of money out of his jacket before throwing it down. “Don’t play games with me. I’m not doing anything like that with you this time.”
    “Oh, don’t be such a killjoy. You just come over here and let me take care of you for a while. Call it my way of providing excellent customer service.”
    The massive angel shrugged and went to Mrs. Hartwell reluctantly. Liz watched as he kissed Louise Hartwell methodically on the lips and quickly dropped the roll of cash on the night stand. It was obvious that he wasn’t into Louise Hartwell’s idea of fun.
    As the two made out on the bed, Liz strained to see some imperfection in the angel’s costume, some flaw or seam or zipper that would make this fanatic seem a little less real. Yet, try as she might, she couldn’t point out anything that would suggest this was someone dressed up like a seraph. At first sight, she had simply assumed that this was some drug-crazed freak from The Zodiac Club looking for a good time. Now she was starting to wonder if she might have been mistaken. All the years spent going to church with her grandmother had instilled in her a certain belief in angels. She just never thought the day would come where she would see one being seduced on a ratty mattress in some seedy hotel room.
    The angel’s hands were trembling ever so slightly as he touched Louise Hartwell. Liz was reminded of the way Ali looked on most of his TV interviews these days. Only this wasn’t Parkinson’s. It was need. Pure and