Slow burn, p.26
Slow Burn,
p.26
The sleet kept coming, steady knives of ice. It didn’t matter anymore.
They were still sitting there when the Highway Department supervisor pulled his truck into the lot and said, “That your Mercedes out there on the street?”
Robby laughed. Velvet hugged her closer with her good arm and said, “Absolutely.”
Chapter Forty-four
Martin
Strangely enough, when he saw the line go flat on Sally’s monitor, he didn’t feel grief at all, only sadness. He stood while the nurses silently disconnected the monitors and the tubes and left him with her wasted little body.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said, and touched her skin. She still felt warm, still felt alive. She’d been dead for years, but she’d always felt alive. “Daddy’s so sorry.”
He found he didn’t want to cry, but he held her limp light hand for a while and watched the sun set behind clouds. The nurses stayed out of his way. When the sun was down, he put her hand back at her side and pulled the sheet over her face. She looked smaller than he remembered.
“Martin?” Adrian Carling’s whisper was silk. He didn’t turn to look at her, or betray any surprise that she’d come to see him.
It had been two weeks since he’d woken up in the hospital to find that she’d been moved to another, more secure facility. One week since he’d received an arrangement of yellow roses and a card that said Be patient, Marty. He’d been patient. He’d had no choice.
“She’s gone.” It was the only thing he had to say, really. The only thing that meant anything.
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head and stood up. Carling looked pale and thin, but she was okay, getting physically stronger every day. Of course, she’d always been strong in spirit. Not like him.
“Do you want me to help with the arrangements?” she asked.
“What? Oh, no, I made them years ago. They kept thinking … it was just a matter of days. But she hung on. She was strong.” He met her eyes. “All I have to do is sign a form.”
“Will you be okay?” she asked. He noticed she did not ask, Are you okay, she knew the answer to that.
“I think so.” He sucked in a breath deep enough to ease the tension in his chest. “I’ve been patient.”
“I know. Thank you.”
God, so much to say, but he couldn’t think of any of it. He settled for information. “Any word on the two women who killed Ed Julian?”
“Gone. They drove his Mercedes to San Antonio and sold it the next morning for cash, hopped a flight to Florida. We lost track of them after that. Oh, and there was a man involved, too. James Patterson, alias Psycho Jim. Professional small-time thief. Other than the fact one of the women boosted him out of the hospital, there’s no information so far. I really don’t expect there will be.”
“Were they yours?” he asked. She looked at him with those secretive eyes, that faint half-smile, and he knew that no matter what, he loved her. He couldn’t help it. “Okay. What about the sweatshirts that were looted out of the truck?”
“We’ve issued a statement that they’re contaminated with toxic chemicals.”
“True enough.”
“We expect to get a ninety percent return.” She shook her head. “It gets warm in this town by March. The other ten percent will probably take care of themselves.”
The nurses came in silently to take Sally. He left before he could see it happen, walking too fast for Carling’s slow rehabilitating steps to match.
She caught up with him at the elevator.
“I suppose you got the formula,” he said to her, as if nothing had happened. Oh, my baby girl. She shrugged. “It’s what you were sent to do, wasn’t it? Get the formula?”
“Among other things.”
“What do you think they’ll do with it?”
“Not my mission, Marty. I’m in acquisitions, not applications.” The tone was just right, casual and careless, but there was a subtle tension around her mouth. Ah, Adrian, not so tough as you think you are.
“You might think about stopping them,” he said. “I’m thinking about it. Hypothetically speaking.”
She gave him a long serious look. The elevator arrived and a doctor got out, two nurses pushed in. She entered last, turned, held the doors open.
“Coming?”
He shook his head. She reached out and put a hand on his arm.
“Stay cool, Marty,” she said. Her fingers squeezed. “Stay out of it. Hypothetically speaking.”
He knew, as the elevator doors shut between them, that she knew him better than that.
Acknowledgments
To the good folks who almost literally pulled this book out of me—the Wednesday Weirdos.
Also, to Don Maass—as always, thanks.
Special Thanks
There is nothing more fortunate in life than to have a good spouse. A spouse who knows that when you’re staring out the window with your headpones on, you’re working. A spouse who has the patience and love to sit patiently through readings of stories he’s already heard four or five times.
A spouse who will even talk about spontaneous human combustion over breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Cat, you’re the best. Love you.
About the Author
Rachel Caine (1962–2020) was the New York Times–, USA Today–, and #1 Wall Street Journal–bestselling author of more than fifty books across multiple genres, from adult thriller to urban fantasy/science fiction, as well as works for young adults. With millions of copies sold, she was a frequent guest at conventions in the United States and around the world. Her popular book series include the Morganville Vampires novels, the Great Library series, and the #1-bestselling Stillhouse Lake books. Caine lost her fight with a rare and aggressive cancer, soft tissue sarcoma, in November of 2020.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1996 by Rachel Caine, LLC
Cover design by Ian Koviak
ISBN: 978-1-5040-8066-8
This edition published in 2022 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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Rachel Caine, Slow Burn
