Greg Iles - True Evil

"What?"

"I adopted my son. My wife's biological son. Ben has only known me for a couple of years, but if you gave him a choice about where to live after a divorce, he'd choose me over his biological mother. What does that tell you?"

"A lot, if you're right."

Kaiser called toward the bathroom, "Alex?"

She came out, a questioning look on her face. "Do you believe me now?"

He reached out and took hold of her hand. "I believe you because I believe in you. But I'm not sure anyone else would."

"Is there anything you can do to help?"

"At the very least, I can pull some strings and get local surveillance on Andrew Rusk."

"Will Webb Tyler allow that?"

Kaiser snorted. "Tyler's not too popular with his own agents. I can think of a few who would help out, as a favor to me. I can't do anything that will put me on the Bureau radar, but I can get you license plates, background checks, that kind of thing. I just have to do it through the New Orleans field office."

"I appreciate that, John. But those are baby steps. These guys have been killing people for years, and knowing about my involvement hasn't even slowed them down."

Kaiser's jaw muscles flexed. "This is going to sound cold, but that's a good thing. If they went to ground now, we'd probably never get them. The best thing we can do right now is poke Andrew Rusk with a sharp stick. I'll do my part. I'm going to find out everything there is to know about that asshole. Tear apart every company he's even remotely associated with. Anybody in business with him is going to hate him within two days."

Alex's face flushed with hope.

Kaiser walked over to Chris and looked down. "I want you to get that chemotherapy, Doctor. There's nothing else you can do to help this investigation. Your only job is to survive."

Chris wanted to respond, but at that moment he doubled over the trash can and began to dry-heave.

Kaiser led Alex into the other room. Chris could hear their voices, but he couldn't make out individual words. As though compelled by some will outside himself, he pulled back the bedclothes, crawled into the bed, and pulled the sheet up to his neck. By the time Alex returned, he could hardly make out what she was saying.

"Chris? Should I take you to the hospital?"

He shook his head. "No…just need to rest. Kaiser…?"

"He's gone."

She stared down at him, her expression vacillating between concern and outright fear. She's lost too much, he realized. She doesn't want me to go to sleep…doesn't want to be alone -

"Is someone taking care of Ben?" she asked.

"Mrs. Johnson," he whispered. "Number…her number's in my cell phone."

"I'll call her. You sleep. I'll be watching over you."

She took hold of his shivering hand and squeezed. Chris squeezed back with what strength he could muster. Then, like a mountain of storm clouds sweeping over a tiny boat, the shadows took him.

Chris awoke in the dark to the chirp of his cell phone. He blinked several times, his dry eyes burning, then turned to the right. He saw a bar of artificial light where the curtains didn't quite meet. In its faint pink glow, he saw Alex lying asleep on the other bed. She was wearing a shirt but no pants. He scrabbled on the night table until he found his phone.

"Hello?" he said, his mouth sour with vomit.

"Chris?" A frantic female voice.

"Mrs. Johnson?"

"It's Thora! Where are you?"

"Um…Jackson."

"Jackson! You left Ben with Mrs. Johnson, and she had no idea where you were!"

"That's not true. She knew I might go out of town."

"She told me that some woman named Alex called her about Ben. Who the hell is Alex?"

Chris sat up slowly, then stood and walked into the adjoining den. "Look…I had to drive up here to see a patient at UMC. There's nothing to freak out about. Where are you?"

"In Greenwood, where I'm supposed to be." Thora's voice had lost none of its hysteria.

He clenched his jaw but said nothing.

"Chris? Are you there?"

"Uh-huh."

"What the hell is going on down there?"

He stood at the center of the dark room, his throat and scrotum aching from the spasms of repeated retching, his arm almost too weak to hold up the phone, and fought to keep from screaming from the depths of his soul. He remembered Alex begging him not to confront Thora, but the truth was, he didn't care about the goddamn investigation. He could never look at Thora again and pretend that everything was fine.

"Answer me!" she shouted. "Are you drunk or something?"

"You're where you're supposed to be?" he said.

"Of course I am!"

"What about Shane Lansing? Is he where he's supposed to be?"

Now there was only silence.

"Or is he where I'm supposed to be?"

"What are you talking about, Chris?"

"Stop it, Thora. Just stop, okay?"

"Wait…I don't know what you think you know, but you don't…I mean, you just can't…" Her shrill voice faded to nothing.

"I'll tell you what I know," he said with quiet conviction. "I know you took a morning-after pill after we had sex in the studio."

He heard a gasp, then the sound of a thumb being squashed over the cellular mike.

"I've also got a nice snapshot of Shane doing you doggy style on the hotel balcony. I'm sure he'd like another trophy to add to his case. You'll be what…the tenth conquest this year?"

He heard a muffled scream, then a male grunt.

"Is he there now?" Chris asked, reeling from sudden vertigo. "Or has he flown home to eat supper with the wife and kids again? What's it costing him to commute up there to bone your skanky ass? I guess that makes you feel like you're worth something, huh?"

No response.

"If he's there, put him on the phone."

"Chris…" Thora's voice was smaller now, almost desolate. "I'm alone. There's no one here but me."

"I don't believe you. I know what you did, okay? And I may be dead in a year. But you …you and Lansing, you're dead, too. Spiritually dead. You probably don't even know what I'm talking about…but one day you will. You're going to prison! And you tell that motherfucker he's going to stand toe-to-toe with me before it's over. Just once."

She was sobbing now.

"How could you do that to Ben, Thora? Forget me. But he's been doing so well…Jesus. Do you want to turn him into a clone of your fucked-up emotional blueprint?"

Thora screamed like a woman rending her flesh in mourning.

Chris hung up and stood shivering in the darkness. He was no longer alone. Alex was standing in the door that divided the bedroom from the den, her face confused, her bare legs outlined in the light from the window.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"I couldn't pretend anymore."

"But-You may have ruined everything."

"How? You've been working on this for five straight weeks and you've got nothing. You heard Kaiser: poke them with a sharp stick, he said. Well, I just poked Thora. And my guess is, she's going to poke Andrew Rusk like he's never been poked before."

Alex raised her hand like a little girl and wiped sleep out of her eyes. "How's your stomach?"

"Better. What time is it?"

"Eleven thirty. That's p.m."

Chris swallowed painfully. "I guess we're not going back to Natchez tonight."

"Not unless you need to get Ben."

"Did Mrs. Johnson say she was okay with keeping him?"

"She said he was fine."

"Shit. Thora acted like he was in a panic. She also didn't like hearing that a woman had called. Asked me who the hell Alex was."

Alex smiled. "Screw her."

"No, thanks. Never again."

Alex walked forward and took his hand, then led him back to the bed. "I'm not making a pass," she said. "I'd just rather sleep with you than by myself. Are you okay with that?"