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.A few of the sermons whispered through Joey’s mind, and he wondered if Donald had ended up in some fiery spot, paying for his bad deeds.Joey tried to think about the people he’d known in his life who’d died and wouldn’t have gone to Hell.A couple of the foster moms who’d got stuck with him had been decent folks.Who knew if they had passed away yet? He hadn’t kept up with any of them.Or they him.His mind created an image of his mom—a druggie and prostitute, but at times he could swear he’d seen some goodness in her.What was the chance she’d managed to sneak into Heaven instead?He gripped the wheel, and the blisters stung on his hands from digging Donald’s grave.But at least his hands were clean.He’d stopped at a service station bathroom earlier and washed them and his face.His suit was probably covered in dust and dirt.Lorenzo would have a fit if he saw him like this, but Joey couldn’t help that.One couldn’t dig a three-foot-deep hole and come out looking fresh from church.That’s what Lorenzo always said: he wanted his men to look as if they’d just walked out of a Sunday service.Not that Joey really cared what Lorenzo wanted anymore.Stretching out his fingers, Joey stared at his hands.It would have been easier just to have dumped Donald’s body.Joey hadn’t done that.Not because of what Foster had said about making sure the body didn’t turn up, but because he’d told Donald he’d bury him.True, Donald had already been dead when Joey gave the promise, but Joey didn’t make a lot of promises, and he always tried to keep those he did.Nevertheless, he didn’t intend to promise that again.Burying someone was too much damn work!He flexed the aching muscles in his arms.Digging had also aggravated his toe.The temptation hit to reach down and take off his shoe, but he figured it would hurt like hell to put it back on.So he didn’t.Foster had called and said to meet him out here.It was about a mile from where Luke Hunter lived.Joey had arrived before Foster.Only empty darkness waited.Of course, Joey wasn’t sure what type of car the trooper drove when he wasn’t in his state-mandated car.He probably should have asked.Joey had also spoken to Corky and Pablo.They’d been told to lie low, and if Foster needed them, he’d call them.Obviously, Lorenzo felt Foster and Joey could handle the job—which was a good thing, too.The fewer people Joey had to deal with, the better.It was yet to be seen if he could save the redhead without offing anyone.His gut told him the possibility wasn’t likely.He closed his eyes and envisioned the redhead and her freckle-faced boy.He still didn’t understand why Foster hadn’t heard about the blonde.Surely the cops had figured out the two incidents were connected.Then again, he supposed he shouldn’t question his good luck.Glancing heavenward, he considered again if someone up there really did want him protecting the redhead.If he had to kill someone to save her, would that be an unforgiveable sin—the kind of sin that, if there was a Hell, would earn Joey a place next to Donald?He recalled thinking it had been a miracle he’d gotten the redhead out of the café without Foster seeing her.Maybe by some act of God, he wouldn’t have to kill anyone tonight.Maybe.A car pulled up in front of him and parked.Joey sat, unmoving, watching as Foster got out.Only when he saw the man take his first step did it occur to Joey that maybe the trooper had brought him out here to kill him.His breath hitched at the thought.Foster drew closer.The serenade of night noises stopped.All Joey could hear was the crunch of Foster’s footsteps on the road.When the trooper didn’t pull his weapon, Joey fought back the panic and stepped out of the car.“You take care of Donald?” Foster asked in such a casual manner that he could have been asking if Joey had eaten dinner.Did death and killing people not disturb these people at all?“Done,” Joey said, hoping he sounded equally casual.Foster stared at him for a minute, trying to read him.“We’re going to take my car,” he finally said.“I heard you can’t drive worth a damn.”“Where are we going?” Joey asked, ignoring his throbbing toe as he followed the other man back to his car.“To do the job.”“You know where he is?” Joey walked around Foster’s dark Honda, moved the passenger seat back about five inches, then got in.Foster crawled behind the wheel [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]