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Alex Kava: The Soul Catcher

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Alex Kava The Soul Catcher

The Soul Catcher: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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She turned back to the sunshine, wondering if it would have been any different had they been able to go to Colorado. If Reverend Everett would have been any different. Or had he always been this way, and she was the one who was changing, who was seeing things differently?

“Now, you all must go,” he said while still chewing. He took a drink of wine as if to cleanse his palate. It was certainly not to be polite, because he took a bite out of a huge strawberry, the juice dripping down his chin, his mouth full again as he said, “Go now. The rally will be getting started soon. No one will be suspicious if my faithful counsel is there waiting for me.”

Stephen and Emily didn’t hesitate. They waited at the door for Kathleen.

“Oh, Kathleen.” Reverend Everett stopped her. “Find Alice and send her up to my room. I have some things I need to discuss with her before the trip.”

Kathleen stared at him for a minute. Did he honestly have something to discuss with the girl or did he have another of his cleansing rituals in mind? Did she dare say anything? Could she afford to make him angry with her again? Did she even care? She decided she would conveniently forget to tell Alice, but she nodded and followed Stephen and Emily out.

She slipped her hand into the pocket of her cardigan. She caressed the metal razor she had stolen from the bathroom. It gave her an odd sense of relief and calm to know it was there, a comfort as if it were an old friend. Yes, an old friend, this simple metal razor with the real metal blade.

This time she would finally get it right.

CHAPTER 71

“Come in,” Everett yelled, not even bothering to check whom he was allowing to enter his hotel room. Could it possibly be any easier?

He smiled and rolled the room service tray into the room. Then he waited. The excitement, the anticipation was better than any homemade concoction the Zulu tribe could brew. After all, this was the moment he had been waiting for all along. And so he stood patiently and waited as if expecting a tip.

Finally Everett turned, his hand ready to wave him away, when his eyes swept across his face, then back. A quick double take.

“You? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Thought I might bring you a treat, a surprise before your last rally.”

“I would think you’d be down wandering around, looking for another young girl. Looking for ways to destroy me.”

“I can’t take all the credit.”

Everett shook his head, discounting him, unafraid as if he were one of his ordinary followers. “Go away,” he told him. “Go and leave me alone. I’m tired of your shenanigans. You’re lucky to have gotten away with only warnings.”

“Right. Only warnings. Is that because you wouldn’t dare hurt your own son? Is that the only reason I’ve been so lucky?”

Everett stared at him. But there was no surprise. Had he known all along? No. It was impossible. It was simply another one of his performances.

“How did you find out?” His voice was calm, steady.

Oh, Jesus! He did know. Did it make this more difficult? Or no, it would make it easier. The bastard knew. All these years and he knew.

“She told you before she died,” Everett said, as if he had known all about it, as if her death was something he shared. He had no right and yet he continued, “I read about her death. I think it was in the New York Times or perhaps the Daily News. You know I did care about her. Did she tell you that, too?”

He wouldn’t listen. It was lies. “No, she didn’t tell me that. She managed to leave that part out of her journal.” He needed to confine the anger, but the concoction had already begun to seep into his system, and Everett’s words felt like hot, liquid lava scalding his brain, contaminating his memories. “But she did mention what you did to her. There are pages and pages about that. About what kind of a bastard you really are.”

He felt his fingers twisting into fists. Yes, he’d let the anger fuel him. The anger and the precious words of his mother, that mantra he had memorized from her journal entries. Her words had empowered him throughout his mission. They wouldn’t fail him now.

“I wondered when you would find out.” Everett’s voice still sounded too calm, not a hint of fear. “I knew it was only a matter of time. I thought perhaps that was what all this was about-all those young girls. You were trying to get back at me, weren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You wanted to hurt me.” Everett smiled as he gave him a nod of confirmation, almost acceptance, as if it was exactly what he had expected from a son of his. “Maybe you even wanted to punish me?”

“Yes.”

“Destroy my reputation.”

“Destroy you.”

The smile disappeared.

“There’s only one thing left now,” he said, picking up the tray from the room service cart. He held it out to Everett, and with his other hand lifted the insulated cover. The tray was empty except for one small red-and-white capsule, sitting on a perfectly folded cloth napkin.

CHAPTER 72

Justin looked for Father or even his henchmen. Already, the pavilion was jam-packed with giggling teenagers mixed in between the others, an odd assortment with little in common except that they all looked like lost souls. They were fucking pathetic, is what they were. Though he had to hand it to Father. There were plenty who looked like they would be ideal recruits and gullible donors.

He had spent the night on the bus trying to plot a strategy and the entire afternoon scoping out as much as he could see of Cleveland. Someone had told him that Edgewater Park was on the west side of Cleveland. There was a circular lot adjacent to the upper section of the park, overlooking the downtown area. Still, he had no idea where the hell he would go. All he knew was that he had to escape while the rally was going on. He’d need to find a way to duck out without Alice or Brandon noticing. Where he’d go seemed a small detail at the moment.

He dug his hands into both his jeans pockets and made sure the wads of bills hadn’t disappeared. Then he pulled down the hem of his T-shirt to make sure the bulge couldn’t be seen. He wasn’t even sure how much he had taken.

While the men who were digging up the strongboxes hauled each box to the bus, Justin stole two fistfuls. He was in such a hurry, all he took time to do was open one of the boxes, reach in and grab and stuff his pockets. Later, he tried to pick out the mothballs and smooth the bills into a neat, folded wad. Then he helped the women at the bonfire, standing in the smoke so he would smell like burnt trash and not mothballs.

He couldn’t help wondering what good the money would do if he had no fucking place to go. He saw Cassie walking to the stage. She waved to the crowd, and the sight of the long purple choir robe she wore got them clapping. Soon she’d have them singing, too. This might be a good time.

Justin looked down at the bike trail and the beach below. There was a statue near the pavilion and some playground equipment. There wasn’t much cover, all the trees were back behind. But he’d already checked. There was a six-foot fence on the other side of the trees, a dead end.

Down by the beach he could see a fishing pier and about ten boat ramps, all empty this time of year. He wondered how hard it would be to take a boat without anyone noticing. Except on the bus ride to the park, he thought he had noticed a Coast Guard station not far from here. Shit! This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Hey, Justin.” Alice waved to him as she weaved her way through the crowd to join him.

Shit! It just got harder.

“I’ve been looking for you.” She smiled.

Why did she have to be so fucking pretty? And damn, she had on another tight sweater, this one blue, and he couldn’t help noticing how fucking beautiful blue her eyes were.

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