Part 22 (1/2)

It had taken him time to come up with the Hardin woman's whereabouts. He hadto grease a coupla palms, threaten to bust a coupla heads, but he'd traced herto this place.

Monk allowed himself a congratulatory smile as he performed a final equipmentcheck. Duct tape. Skinning knife. A really sweet Beretta.

His blood pumped hot as he swept the area with a trained gaze. It couldn't bebetter. The nearest neighbors were screened from view by a row of thickcypress trees, and the house was set back from the road far enough to preventobservation by a pa.s.sing motorist. Though he couldn't see the lake, he'd spentenough time cruising by in the fis.h.i.+ng boat he'd rented to feel sure he couldblock any escape in that direction.

Finally, his mental checklist completed, he declared himself ready.

It's payback time. And I'm just the guy to do it.

She and the kid were alone. Monk had seen her man drive away just past dawn.Big guy he was, built for strength and speed, and moved like he could takereal good care of himself. Reminded Monk of the master sergeant at CampPendleton. A tough b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Sgt. Ruiz was. Ramrod of the commando unit Monkhad been part of for a while-before the b.a.s.t.a.r.d had washed him out for beatingup a Mexican wh.o.r.e who'd cheated him.

Monk tugged the bill of his cap lower to hide his face as he climbed out ofthe vehicle. It was frigging ninety degrees, and the new fis.h.i.+ng vest he'dbought a few weeks back to help him blend in was d.a.m.n hot.

Being's as how the sarge was always ramming the concept of prior planningdown their throats, he figured Ruiz would be d.a.m.n proud of him. A clean killwas the mark of a skilled warrior, he'd said.

No noise, no mess. Just the way he'd handled those two brats he never wanted.

Twenty minutes tops, he told himself, checking his watch as he walked towardthe door. He would allow himself a moment to enjoy the terror in the woman'seyes, and then with one quick snap of his wrists, it would be done. When heleft, there'd be one less interfering woman in the world.

Chapter 14.

It was the fifth time in as many minutes that Jimmy had come into the kitchento check the new clock with the big red numerals Grady had bought in order toteach their son how to tell time. Every night they put in an hour's practice.Jimmy still mixed up nine and six, and sometimes one and eleven, but he waslearning.

”Grady's never been late before,” he grumbled, plopping down at the kitchentable.

Riatucked the container of deviled eggs into the cooler and closed the lidbefore she allowed herself to check that same clock. Jimmy was right. Gradywas twenty minutes late.

”He'll be here,” she a.s.sured her anxious son.

Jimmy upended the salt shaker and let salt pour out onto the table. When hehad enough, he laboriously traced anA with a fingertip in the grains. It wasan exercise Grady himself had invented when he was a kid.

”Mom, is Grady mad about something?”

”I don't think so, sweetie. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. ”He's real quiet when we go fis.h.i.+ng, and he never talks aboutdoing stuff together anymore.”

Riacaught the quick flash of hurt in the glance he sent her way. ”What stuffis that, sweetie?”

”You know, guy stuff. Like going to the 500 next year so I can see the carsthe way he and his dad used to do. Or maybe fixing up an old car together.”

”I'm sure he's still planning on all those things.”

”Maybe,” Jimmy muttered, going back to his task.

Trying not to think about the three nights that Grady had spent watching thelate show instead of making love to her,Ria poured herself a cup of the coffeeshe'd made in antic.i.p.ation of his return and carried it to the table. ThoughGrady still treated them both with easy affection, he'd been different sincethe night she'd come to think of as Jimmy's real homecoming.

She'd seen the hurt stagger into his eyes when he'd realized Jimmy blamed himfor not coming to his rescue. It was as though he'd shut down a part ofhimself at that moment.

She frowned, checked the clock herself, then got up to walk to the slidinggla.s.s doors to look out at the lake. The fisherman in the orange cap was gone,she noticed. In fact, the lake seemed surprisingly empty.

”Have you seen Old Whiskerface again?” she asked, turning.

”Uh-uh. Grady said we'd try again this weekend.”

”Then you will.” She took another sip, then frowned. Maybe he forgot the timethey were supposed to leave. Or gotten tied up in a meeting. She glanced atthe clock again and then at the cell phone on the counter.

”Sweetheart, would you be a love and fetch me the green-striped beach towelhanging on the clothesline? We'll need it to use as a tablecloth.”

”Okay.” Jimmy slid from his chair and headed for the side door.

As soon as he disappeared,Ria set down her cup and picked up the phone. Shehad just punched the last number when the front door opened.

”Oh, Grady, thank goodness-” Her voice faltered, then dammed.

The man standing in the doorway was a bulky, black-haired stranger with deadeyes. ”Make a sound and you're history,” he ordered, closing the door behindhim.

Panic screamed in her mind as he walked toward her. Somehow she battled it down. ”All right,” she said, praying that Grady would pick up the phone she heard ringing in her ear.

”Captain Hardin's office.” It was Grady's a.s.sistant.

The man moved like lightning. BeforeRia could cry for help, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone from her hand and smashed it against the counter.

”Think you can put one over on Monk Benteen, do you, b.i.t.c.h?” His lips pulledback in a snarl, and her stomach lurched. Her mind started to splinter into pure terror. Somehow she pulled back.

She had to get him out of here before Jimmy came back with the towel.

”Of course not, Mr. Benteen,” she said as calmly as she could. ”Would you like a cup of coffee? I've just made some fresh.”

If she could reach the pot- The blow caught her across the face, sending her reeling into therefrigerator. She hit hard, and pain exploded in her head. Her vision turnedgray, and she slid bonelessly to thefloor. He was on her instantly, grabbingher by the hair to jerk her head up.

”Where's my wife, b.i.t.c.h?”

”I ... I don't know, really I don't. I've called and left messages, but-”

”She's gone. She ain't got no friends but you.”

”I swear, I don't know.”

He drew a knife from his boot, his eyes animal sly as he slowly drew the tipdown her cheek. Her face exploded in fire. ”Now, I'm gonna ask you one moretime. I don't get an answer, the next cut goes deeper.”

Riafelt the blood dripping down her cheek. Her mind hazed, and her throatclogged with bile. Somehow she stayed on her feet.Don't panic,Ria . Think!What would Grady do?

Bluff, she thought. He would bluff.