Page 65 of Craving Sin (Touch of Evil 13)

Approaching the shed’s entrance, Jacob realized that he appeared quite different from the man who had faced off with his sister months ago. His face was gaunt, and a new scar cut across his forehead and disappeared into his hairline. His once-precise movements had been replaced by the halting gait of a man still in constant pain.

Nevertheless, Mekhi Hale would recognize him instantly.

Just inside the opening, Jacob found the small space cluttered with fishing gear and tools. The floor was stained with decades of oil and bait. The radio sat on a workbench close to the entrance, its volume disproportionate to its size. On the other side of the shed stood Mekhi, his back to the door as he focused on some small repair job, utterly unaware that someone had just entered his sanctuary.

The old fisherman was Jacob’s ticket out. He was a man with a boat, with knowledge of the coastline, with routes that avoided official channels. A man who, wittingly or not, had aided him before with transportation and information.

And he was also a man whose fear could be leveraged.

Jacob had monitored the police presence around Silverton and noted how it gradually diminished as weeks turned into months, though they still maintained regular patrols. The officer stationed near Mekhi's property had become somewhat of a permanent fixture. Fortunately, the locals had taken control and were quite rigid in their schedules…and breaks.

Another officer would be parked out front in about thirty minutes.

Mekhi continued his work, oblivious to the predator behind him.

Jacob limped forward, each step measured to minimize the sound, until he was standing next to the radio. He reached out and clicked the radio off with a decisive snap.

The sudden silence fell like a physical weight.

Mekhi turned, a question already forming on his lips, but then he froze as the color drained from his weathered face. Recognition dawned well before his emotions shifted from confusion to shock to fear.

The old fisherman’s eyes darted to the opening behind Jacob, seeking the police cruiser that had been his silent guardian for months. The hope in his eyes dimmed as he registered its absence. His apprehensive gaze returned to Jacob, taking in the changes—the gauntness, the new scar, the makeshift cane.

“Hi, old man,” Jacob said with a smile, savoring the moment. “It's been a while.”

~ The End ~