Page 86

What a wonderful woman.

All I had to do was shoot back, “Sorry, I’ll make it up to you”—or something.

But, being a cad, I didn’t. And still she sends this.

I damn sure don’t deserve her . . .

Then he scrolled to her most recent text message: AMANDA LAW

SORRY TO BOTHER YOU AGAIN, BABY.

THINK YOU MIGHT GET A BREAK? MAYBE DINNER?

WOULD LOVE TO SEE YOU, IF ONLY FOR A MOMENT.

I HAVE TO RUN BY THE HOSPITAL BUT WILL BE BACK BY 6 TO LET OUT LUNA.

HOPE YOUR DAY IS GOING AS WELL AS IT CAN!

XOXO -A

Damn, it’s nice to have someone like her to look forward to after a day like this.

Hope I don’t manage to fuck up this relationship.

Matt had a mental image from the previous night of Amanda walking completely naked toward the master bath, her thick ponytail of wavy blond hair bouncing as her toned, athletic body floated fluidly across the room.

What a goddess. Then he grinned at the thought of a reply: “Love to see you too, baby—starkers!”

He buried his face in both hands, rubbing his eyes again. As he did so, he felt the stubble on his face.

And I do need a break, if only for a shave and bath.

He thumbed the REPLY key, then typed out: HEY, SWEETIE . . .

I AM REALLY SORRY. I GOT YOUR FIRST MESSAGE RIGHT AS CARLUCCI WAS BLOWING HIS CORK. I MEANT TO REPLY . . . BUT FORGOT. I’M SORRY. REALLY. AND . . . THERE WASN’T TIME BEFORE CARLUCCI WENT ON THE NEWS TO LET YOU KNOW ABOUT MY HEADING UP THE TASK FORCE—WHICH RIGHT NOW IS JUST ME, TONY & KERRY, THE ECC TECH. SOME FORCE, HUH? WORSE, WE’VE MADE NO PROGRESS. JUST KEEPING UP WITH THE BODY COUNT HAS BEEN CHALLENGING ENOUGH.

I’LL SEE IF I CAN MAKE A BREAK BY 6. FIRST NEED A SHAVE & SHOWER.

BE CAREFUL OUT THERE!

He reread what he’d written, hit SEND, then stuck the phone back in his pocke

t.

Harris, trying to stifle a yawn, was saying, “Even as much as Howard probably reamed those guys in the forensics lab, I doubt they’ve had time to pull anything off Kendrik Mays yet.”

Payne looked at him—noticing that he, too, had a face dark with a five-o’clock shadow—and nodded.

“Number eighteen coming up,” Kerry Rapier said.

The main bank of monitors then showed an image of Kendrik Mays on the blood-soaked carpet on the sidewalk at Francis Fuller’s Old City office building. Then an inset image popped up. It was his Wanted sheet mug shot, which showed an angry young man with foul-looking black dreadlocks and a full black beard that was matted. It was not difficult to see his nasty stubs of teeth and bad gums, both severely eroded by the caustic chemicals used in the manufacturing of crystal meth.

The bottom right-hand corner ID stamp read:

Richard Saunders Holdings/Lex Talionis

Third & Arch