CHAPTER 26

IF THIS IS YOUR FIRST VISIT TO THE REDEEMER’S LAW PROJECT, YOU ARE COMING INTO THE STORY ALREADY IN PROGRESS. YOUR EXPERIENCE HERE WILL BE FAR LESS CONFUSING IF YOU USE THE CHAPTER INDEX ON THE RIGHT TO GO BACK TO THE INTRODUCTION. OR AT LEAST TO THE PROLOGUE.

CHAPTER 26

Matt came dragging back into the LaCroix Building with his eyelids at halfmast. His side hurt, his chest hurt, he had a swiftly building headache from not having eaten for seventeen hours, and the need to sleep weighed him down like an anvil on his shoulders. All the exhilaration from seeing cops crawling over the Troland house that morning had deserted him.

The office door stood propped open, and Diedra rushed out as he passed. “Where have you been?” she asked. “Are you okay?” She walked at his side as he headed for the elevator.

He couldn’t decide if she sounded angry or relieved. She looked incredible, as usual, in a pair of faded blue jeans and a snug white top.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He absently rubbed his chest, and wrinkled up one side of his face as he did. “Sorry I freaked out. I just came from the police station, gave my statement.”

They reached the elevator. He punched the UP button.

“Listen...I know I owe you an explanation, and I’ll give you one, I promise, I’ll tell you everything about last night, but right now I can just barely hold my eyes open. Can I call you? And tell you all about this? But, later, I mean?”

Diedra pursed her lips and crossed her arms. Matt tried to read her, figure out what was going on in her head, and couldn’t even come close. He stood and waited and tried not to look too pained.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she said, finally. “You can call me.”

“Thanks.”

She walked away from him, slowly.

The elevator doors opened, and Matt stumbled inside and pushed the button for his floor. Before the doors closed, he stuck his head back out and looked down the hallway at the office. Diedra stood in the doorway, staring right back at him, and she looked...smug.

Matt didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that just then, and pulled his head back inside the car. The doors slid shut.

# # #

Matt awakened around midnight that night, ate some crackers and drank a glass of orange juice, and went back to bed. He hadn’t been an early riser for some time now, but he was accustomed to getting at least some sleep during the night and early morning. When his head hit the pillow earlier that afternoon he’d been awake for over twenty-four hours, and the slumber he fell into swallowed him without a ripple.

He woke again the next morning, a little past eight, feeling remarkably refreshed considering what he’d been through. He peeled off his T-shirt and examined his chest and side in the bathroom mirror, and grimaced at what he saw.

A huge band of repulsive purple and yellow bruises crossed his chest, testimony to the firing pattern of the Uzi. Another livid contusion flowered on his side where he’d taken the pistol shot. All of them were too sore to touch in any way but very lightly, and they hurt when he bent over. He did a set of stretches and discovered that the bruises hurt pretty much whichever way he moved, no helping it.

He could still function, though. Time to get back to the issue at hand.

Simon.

Matt fixed a picture of the young man in his mind and replayed the few words Simon had said to him.

...I’m sorry...

Matt had to find him. His subconscious had gnawed at it the whole night, and now that he’d gotten some rest it seemed clear as glass: some way, somehow, he and Simon shared some sort of similarity, some kind of kinship. Matt had to know more.

And unless Simon had a good reason for doing what he did to the girl in the park, he not only had to be found, he had to be stopped. Matt decided to head down to the basement, get some preparations done.

He took a quick look around the apartment, walked out of his bedroom, opened the door to his empty coat closet, stepped inside and vanished.

As soon as he left, the phone started ringing.



AUTHOR’S NOTES FOLLOW IN THE COMMENTS SECTION.