David Baldacci - Divine Justice

"What's the matter?" she said in an alarmed tone.

"Nothing, just… it's nothing."

"Ben, what is it?"

"One of the guys with the bat got me a little bit on the arm."

"Oh good Lord, why didn't you say anything?"

"Abby, it's nothing."

"Take off your shirt."

"What?"

"Take it off."

He slowly peeled it off and she exclaimed, "Oh my God."

There was a lumpy black bruise the size of a walnut on his left upper arm and the discoloration had spread down to his forearm.

She ran to the freezer and grabbed an ice pack and placed it over the bruise. "You're a hero, okay, you don't have to be stupid," she scolded. "And if-"

She was staring at his chest and other arm. Stone followed her gaze to the old knife slashes and bullet pocks.

She looked up inquiringly.

"Coal miners aren't the only ones with scars," he said quietly.

A half hour later, she came back into the room. He noticed that she'd changed her clothes and the scent in the air spoke of a shower and shampoo. She gave him an unfathomable look as she checked his arm. "Does it feel better?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Good." She leaned down and kissed him. In the same motion her arms slid around his middle and he felt her nails dig lightly into his back. Before he realized it, Stone felt himself kiss her in return. Abby's lips tasted sweet.

Stone felt his hand slide to her back and squeeze but then he pulled back.

"Abby, I don't think-"

She put a hand against his mouth. "That's right. You don't have to think at all. Come on."

Abby took his hand and led him up the stairs to her bedroom. She closed the door and motioned for him to sit on the bed. She stood in front of him and undressed.

She was fit and fleshy in all the right places and Stone felt a small gasp jump from his throat as he took all of her in. He noted that she had a small tattoo of a cross near her left hip bone. She pressed against him, her warm breasts pushed flat against his own hard chest; her hands began massaging his shoulders and back even as she made soft moaning sounds in his ear. She nimbly worked his pants off. A minute later he lay down beside her on the bed.

Later, they lay back, side to side, her hand clasping his arm, lightly rubbing the hairs.

"I haven't been with anyone since Sam died." She rolled over on her stomach, her arms supporting her chin. "Not once."

"There must've been opportunities, Abby. You're… beautiful."

She kissed him on the cheek and smiled. "Opportunities, yes, desire on my part, no."

"Not even Tyree?"

"It's not like that with us. We've known each other since we were little kids. Went on exactly one date in high school and we didn't really click. I think he might want more now. He never married, but I don't feel the same way."

"It's been a long time for me too. A long time." He wondered if Claire would have disapproved of what he had just done. After decades of loneliness for him, perhaps she would have understood.

"Opportunities or desire lacking?"

"Both."

He rolled over on his side and rubbed her back. She stretched and smiled and Stone smiled back as he watched her do this. The braids in her hair had come out and several tresses dangled in her eyes. He carefully moved one away, revealing a green pupil looking at him.

"You ever think about leaving Divine?" he said.

"All the time."

"Why'd you never do it?"

"Scared, I guess. Divine's a little pond but I know it well. Hard to prove yourself all over in a new place."

"I suppose."

He rolled onto his back.

She curled next to him and slid her leg up and down his. "You ever think about settling down somewhere?"

"Lots of times. In fact I thought I had the place to do it, but it turned out it wasn't."

"What happened?"

"It just wasn't."

The phone rang. Abby looked at the clock. "Who could that be at this hour?"

"The hospital?"

"I just talked to them before we had breakfast. And to Danny. He was okay."

"Maybe it's the restaurant. People want their breakfast at Rita's." Stone was glad of the change in the conversation's direction.

"I already called there too. I got my helpers opening the place."

She climbed over Stone and snatched up the phone. Stone put a hand on her butt and gave her a gentle squeeze. She smiled, grabbed his hand and gave her backside a hard slap with it. Then she let go.

"What? Um." She glanced at Stone. "No, he's not here. Right. If I see him I could ask him, sure. Okay, right."

She put the phone back in the cradle, pulled a pillow into her lap and sat cross-legged facing him.

"Who was that?"

"Charlie Trimble. He heard about Danny and what you did. He wants to ask you some questions. And he seemed very determined."

"Great, well, my position hasn't changed. I'm not answering any questions."

"Ben, listen to me. If you don't want to do it, fine. But if you keep saying no to Charlie he's going to start digging. And unless you've got nothing you care about him finding, it might be smart to just talk to him. That way he can focus on what happened here instead of on you."

Stone opened his mouth and then closed it. "How come you're beautiful and smart? That's hardly fair."

"Just the luck of the draw, I guess."

"You have his number?"

"Yes, or you can just go to the newspaper. It's around the block from the restaurant. Can't miss it."

"Call him and tell him I'll be there sometime this afternoon."

He rose to get dressed.

"This afternoon? We can do a lot in that amount of time," she said playfully.

"As great as that sounds, I've got something I really need to do."

"What's that?" she said, sounding a little hurt.

"I'll let you know if I find it."

He finished dressing and drove Willie's truck back to the trailer. A few minutes later, after a thorough search, he found the bottle of Tylenol. It was empty. Had Willie taken the last few pills but forgotten? Were they oxycodone tablets? But why leave an empty medicine bottle in the drawer? As he looked around at the mess Willie Coombs called home, he concluded an empty bottle left in a drawer in this pigsty was hardly compelling evidence of anything. But still, it might be important. Maybe this was what Shirley Coombs had been looking for.

He pocketed the bottle, left the trailer and started to climb in the truck.

The next instant Stone lay unconscious on the ground, blood seeping from the wound in his head.

STONE ROSE SLOWLY to a sitting position, his limbs shaky, his head throbbing and his belly queasy. He touched the knot on his head. The blood was dried solid over the wound. He'd been out for a while, apparently. He sat on his haunches for a bit, breathing slowly, trying to keep from puking.

He finally staggered to his feet and looked around. Or tried to. He could move his hand a foot in front of him and be unable to see it. He put a hand up and it nicked the hard, low ceiling.

He was in a cave. He breathed in and nearly gagged. No, he was in a mine. A coal mine. He took a few tentative steps forward and then stopped.

Rattle-rattle.

Stone took a slow step back from the sound. It seemed like more than one snake actually. Standing in the pitch black with rattlesnakes within striking distance probably constituted a pretty decent nightmare. Most people would have been frozen to the spot, waiting to be bitten and die. Stone was not stupid, so he was scared. But he wasn't paralyzed. He moved both arms out from his sides. One hand brushed wall, his left nothing but air. He leaned toward the left and his fingers now grazed the rough side of the mine. That the mineshaft was not very wide was not much help since he couldn't exactly walk on walls. He reached up again and his hand hit the low ceiling. Rattlers could not see very well in the dark, he knew. But they could register his body heat and also sense any movement he made from the vibrations on the ground.