because he was looking at his buddy, who stood there braced against one of the gun cabinets, bloody froth already bubbling from the holes in his chest as he tried to breathe with bullet-torn lungs.
Then his eyes flicked back to Pete, and the two men locked gazes for a heartbeat.
Pete saw a stocky man about five-nine, with dark, curly hair, a mustache, and a heavy jaw. He wore a short-sleeved shirt, and his arms were covered with tattoos. His dark eyes were wide with surprise.
Pete knew what the man and his companion must have thought. Nobody here but a harmless old couple. Wouldn’t be any trouble to break in and steal whatever they wanted. They didn’t have to worry about the people who lived here.
Now the first guy knew different, and so did the second one, because he jerked his gun toward Pete as his finger tightened on the trigger.
Pete was just a hair faster. The Colt roared again and the.45 round shattered the burglar’s right shoulder, knocked him halfway around, and made him drop his gun. Pete’s aim had been just a little off this time, but it got the job done.
Pete didn’t stop pulling the trigger, though. The intruder was still on his feet. Pete wanted him on the floor, where he wouldn’t be a threat to him or Inez any longer. Three more shots blasted out from the Colt, but only one of them actually hit the man. That one shattered his right kneecap into a million pieces and knocked him down.
The first man had slid down the gun cabinet to a sitting position by now, leaving bloody streaks on the wood. He sat there with his legs sticking out in front of him, leaking more blood on the carpet.
Pete backed out of the den into the hall. Now that the light in the den was on, enough of it spilled out into the hall for him to glimpse something from the corner of his eye. He turned to his left and saw the crumpled figure lying on the floor.
Inez.
She must have followed him after all, despite him telling her to stay in the bedroom.
Then Pete thought about the way those bullets from the burglar’s gun had punched right through the wall like it wasn’t there….
He dropped his own weapon and nearly tripped and fell over his own feet, he was moving so fast as he ran to her side and dropped to his knees and got his arms around her so he could lift her. He saw the way her head rolled loosely on her neck and felt how wet her pajamas were as he pulled her against him, and he screamed her name, even though to his still half-deafened ears the voice didn’t sound like his and seemed to come from miles and miles away.
In the dim light, he saw Inez’s eyes flutter open for a moment. She looked up at him, but he couldn’t tell if she actually saw him or not. Later he liked to think she did. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear the words, couldn’t hear the last thing his wife of more than forty years said to him. It could have been
I love you
or
I told you there was somebody in the house
or
Oh, God, it hurts.
Pete liked to think it was
I love you.
But he would never know.
C HAPTER 4
Alexandra Bonner tossed the magazine onto the coffee table. She couldn’t concentrate tonight. She had read the same paragraph about how to destress your life four or five times before she realized what she was doing.
The simple fact was that she wouldn’t be able to think about much of anything until Jack got home.
It wasn’t really that late. She glanced at the clock. Just eleven. Not that late at all for a seventeen-year-old boy to be out on a summer night, when there was no school the next day. Jack had been out that late lots of times.
But not when he was grounded and wasn’t supposed to be out of the house at all. Not when he’d snuck out to do God knows what with those friends of his, Rowdy—what kind of boy went by “Rowdy” in this day and age?—and Steve.
She stood up and raked her fingers through her long, dark blond hair. At work she wore it in a ponytail most of the time, to keep it out of the way, but at
Then his eyes flicked back to Pete, and the two men locked gazes for a heartbeat.
Pete saw a stocky man about five-nine, with dark, curly hair, a mustache, and a heavy jaw. He wore a short-sleeved shirt, and his arms were covered with tattoos. His dark eyes were wide with surprise.
Pete knew what the man and his companion must have thought. Nobody here but a harmless old couple. Wouldn’t be any trouble to break in and steal whatever they wanted. They didn’t have to worry about the people who lived here.
Now the first guy knew different, and so did the second one, because he jerked his gun toward Pete as his finger tightened on the trigger.
Pete was just a hair faster. The Colt roared again and the.45 round shattered the burglar’s right shoulder, knocked him halfway around, and made him drop his gun. Pete’s aim had been just a little off this time, but it got the job done.
Pete didn’t stop pulling the trigger, though. The intruder was still on his feet. Pete wanted him on the floor, where he wouldn’t be a threat to him or Inez any longer. Three more shots blasted out from the Colt, but only one of them actually hit the man. That one shattered his right kneecap into a million pieces and knocked him down.
The first man had slid down the gun cabinet to a sitting position by now, leaving bloody streaks on the wood. He sat there with his legs sticking out in front of him, leaking more blood on the carpet.
Pete backed out of the den into the hall. Now that the light in the den was on, enough of it spilled out into the hall for him to glimpse something from the corner of his eye. He turned to his left and saw the crumpled figure lying on the floor.
Inez.
She must have followed him after all, despite him telling her to stay in the bedroom.
Then Pete thought about the way those bullets from the burglar’s gun had punched right through the wall like it wasn’t there….
He dropped his own weapon and nearly tripped and fell over his own feet, he was moving so fast as he ran to her side and dropped to his knees and got his arms around her so he could lift her. He saw the way her head rolled loosely on her neck and felt how wet her pajamas were as he pulled her against him, and he screamed her name, even though to his still half-deafened ears the voice didn’t sound like his and seemed to come from miles and miles away.
In the dim light, he saw Inez’s eyes flutter open for a moment. She looked up at him, but he couldn’t tell if she actually saw him or not. Later he liked to think she did. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear the words, couldn’t hear the last thing his wife of more than forty years said to him. It could have been
I love you
or
I told you there was somebody in the house
or
Oh, God, it hurts.
Pete liked to think it was
I love you.
But he would never know.
C HAPTER 4
Alexandra Bonner tossed the magazine onto the coffee table. She couldn’t concentrate tonight. She had read the same paragraph about how to destress your life four or five times before she realized what she was doing.
The simple fact was that she wouldn’t be able to think about much of anything until Jack got home.
It wasn’t really that late. She glanced at the clock. Just eleven. Not that late at all for a seventeen-year-old boy to be out on a summer night, when there was no school the next day. Jack had been out that late lots of times.
But not when he was grounded and wasn’t supposed to be out of the house at all. Not when he’d snuck out to do God knows what with those friends of his, Rowdy—what kind of boy went by “Rowdy” in this day and age?—and Steve.
She stood up and raked her fingers through her long, dark blond hair. At work she wore it in a ponytail most of the time, to keep it out of the way, but at
Similar Books
The Draig's Woman
Lisa Dawn Wadler
The Everlasting Covenant
Robyn Carr
Circle the Soul Softly
Davida Wills Hurwin
Pirates of Somalia
Jay Bahadur
The Staff of Kyade
James L. Craig
Hero Duty
Jenny Schwartz
Losing Me
Sue Margolis
The Final Murder
Anne Holt
The Greatest Knight
Elizabeth Chadwick
Magic
Danielle Steel