Sudden Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

Father Francis. Hispanic men almost always deferred to their mothers, especially in matters of faith.
    But Jack wasn’t a priest, and hadn’t even made a very good altar boy thirty years ago. He hadn’t won Mrs. Perez over.
    “How are you, Art?” Padre said. “Would you like to join us?”
    “Another time.” Perez stared at Jack. Jack stared back. Perez turned to Scout. “I heard you had some excitement down in Guatemala.”
    “Not much,” Scout said. “Maybe we can find some here.”
    “We have an early morning.” Jack stood. The last thing he needed was Scout sitting in jail indefinitely for assaulting the chief of police. It had happened once before, when Scout and Deputy Leon started a bar fight.
    Padre picked up on the cue, though Scout was slower on the uptake. It was earlier than his usual close-down-the-bar night.
    “Yes,” Padre took Scout’s arm. “You need to fuel the plane.”
    “Going somewhere?” Perez asked.
    “Personal,” Jack said.
    The silence was thick. Scout mumbled something about men with big guns and small dicks and Perez reddened.
    Jack extracted them from the tense situation and they went outside. Nearly midnight and still warm, but the humid breeze off the Rio Grande felt good.
    “Want to fly me out to San Diego?” he asked Scout.
    “Naw, I have a date with Rina and the boys Wednesday morning.”
    “I’ll be back by then.”
    “Maybe, maybe not, but I don’t want to miss taking the boys to their first Major League ball game. Just take care of Carrie, okay?”
    Jack had never named any of the planes he flew, though Carrie the Caravan was Scout’s pride and joy. To Jack, planes were simply transpo.
    “Of course. Let me give you a ride home.”

    Ethan—he’d dumped his first name in favor of his middle when he returned to the United States—didn’t think it had been a good idea to snatch Price’s dog tag, and he definitely didn’t think it had been smart to mail it to the FBI, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to upset Karin. He didn’t want her to leave him. She’d saved his life and he needed her.
    Far back in his mind, Ethan knew she needed him as well—she wanted him to teach her all the tricks of his trade, his unusual aptitude for acupuncture. But that was certainly a modest exchange. He couldn’t have done any of this without her, and he’d be grateful for the rest of his life. The life he owed her.
    “You okay?” she asked as he drove south.
    “Fine, love.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. Clear.
    “What are you thinking?”
    “I don’t want you to get in trouble,” he said. “What if they trace the dog tags back to you? I can’t lose you.” His bottom lip trembled and he bit it hard enough to draw blood. He barely felt the puncture.
    She leaned over and wiped the blood from his lip with her index finger. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her put her finger with his bright red blood into her mouth, then sucked her finger with her eyes closed, a half-smile on her lips.
    He swallowed thickly and squirmed in his seat.
    “They won’t trace it to me, or you, or anyone. It’s a game, Ethan. They’ll be chasing their tails. I wish I could watch.” She laughed, as if she were amused.
    They’d gone out of their way to mail the package from Reno—not only far from their next destination, but it would point the police in the wrong direction. Because so far her plans had worked exactly as she’d promised, Ethan believed her. And he loved her.
    They’d left Sacramento at three that morning, dumped the van, picked up another vehicle, hit Reno, then turned down Highway 395 and drove through the Owens Valley. The bleakness of the desert made him want to drive the truck off the edge of the next cliff. A few cars, a few trucks, and nothing. Highway 58 wasn’t much better, and now I-40 cutting through the Mojave Desert as the sun set low behind them made him want to scream and jab a needle in the eye of the bitch riding next to