Chris Carter - The Executioner

‘Clever sonofabitch.’ Garcia chuckled. ‘I’m definitely stealing that idea.’

Mollie was standing by the window, silently watching the drizzling rain, when Hunter poked his head through the door.

‘May I come in?’

She turned around and forced a thin smile. ‘What’s the secret password?’

Hunter thought about it for a second. ‘Now, let me see… It’s either happy birthday -’ his right hand appeared holding a birthday cake ‘-or merry Christmas .’ He pushed the door open, revealing a nicely wrapped box under his injured left arm.

Her eyes widened. ‘Oh my God. That’s all for me?’

‘Uh-huh.’ Hunter stepped into the room and placed the cake on the small table by the bed. ‘Here, merry Christmas and happy birthday.’ He handed her the present. ‘I hope you like it.’

Mollie sat on the bed and unwrapped it eagerly, her jaw dropping as she stared at the box.

‘It’s a laptop,’ Hunter said.

‘I can see that.’ Tears flooded her eyes.

‘A word processor and several other applications are already preinstalled. You said you wanted to be a writer. I hope this will help.’

‘Oh my God. I can’t believe you remembered.’ The joy in her voice was contagious. She leaned forward and kissed Hunter’s right cheek, and for a brief moment he looked embarrassed.

‘I hope you’re hungry,’ he said with a wait gesture before stepping out of the room again. Two seconds later he reappeared holding two massive food dishes wrapped in cling film. ‘Compliments of Carlos and his wife.’

Mollie did a double take. ‘Wow, that’s a lot of food.’ She smiled. ‘Maybe I can offer some of it to the other patients. There’ll be a lot left over.’

‘That would be very nice of you,’ Hunter replied with a smile. ‘Mollie, I wanted to ask you something,’ he said in a more serious tone. ‘The safety on my gun was on. I know it was on because I flicked it on.’

She nodded shyly. ‘I know. I flicked it off.’

‘How did you know?’

‘Mr. Higgins.’

Hunter frowned.

‘He and his wife own the diner I used to work at in Lynwood. They’d been robbed at gunpoint so many times they kept a pistol behind the counter and one in the kitchen. They made sure everyone who worked there knew how to use them just in case. I know how to reload, chamber and unchamber a round, cock the hammer and check the safety.’

Hunter chuckled. ‘I’ll be damned. Only in the United States of America you’d be able to get a job in a diner and be taught not only how to wait on tables but also how to use a firearm.’

A kind-looking nurse knocked gently at the door. ‘I’m sorry, detective, but she needs to rest now.’

‘It’s OK.’ Hunter grabbed his jacket. ‘I’ll check on you tomorrow, kiddo.’

‘Robert,’ Mollie called as Hunter reached the door. ‘Thank you for everything. For the present, for remembering, for believing in me, for being there and for saving my life.’

Hunter faced her and smiled. ‘Thank you for saving mine.’

Born in Brazil of Italian origin, Chris Carter studied psychology and criminal behaviour at the University of Michigan. As a member of the Michigan State District Attorney’s Criminal Psychology team, he interviewed and studied many criminals, including serial and multiple homicide offenders with life imprisonment convictions.

Having departed for Los Angeles in the early 1990s, Chris spent ten years as a guitarist for numerous rock bands before leaving the music business to write full-time. He now lives in London. The Executioner is his second novel.

Visit www.chriscarterbooks.com