Jack Beale 00 - Dangerous Shoals

his hand. It makes perfect sense that he would rob a pharmacy if his hand was sliced up. And from what we’ve been told, killing those two people would not be out of character for Kurt.”
    “Except we don’t know for certain that he was the one in your place, and we’re guessing about the claw.”
    “You may be guessing, but I know,” said Jack with certainty.
    “Jack, maybe. And if you are, he’ll probably be back, more desperate than ever. And you and Max will be in his crosshairs.”

CHAPTER 90
    “YOU MISERABLE BITCH ,” he snarled. He held her tightly with one hand, while the other pressed the button on the knife’s handle. He heard the reassuring soft snick as the blade shot out and locked into position. He couldn’t see the face clearly, but the look of fear and understanding in her eyes was unmistakable. It reflected the full power that he possessed. Slowly, he raised the knife. He took a deep breath in anticipation of that moment when he would wield the god-like power in his hand.
    A jolt of pain shot through his arm. The moment vanished as his eyes opened with a start and he jerked himself upright in the bed. He looked around, trying to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. The room was dingy and obviously well lived in. The centerpiece of the room was the bed. Straight ahead was a substantial wooden door. On the door at eye level was a broken plastic frame that held a tattered and faded square of paper. On either side of the door, drawn tight in a failed attempt to keep the sunlight out, were tattered curtains that might have been green in another life. A shaft of sunlight streamed in from the top corner of the one on the left where it had been pulled off the rod.
    To the left of the queen sized bed, against the wall, was a bureau with an old television that had been bolted on to it. A chair, with a small table and lamp, were in the corner next to the window, which faced the bed. Above the chair, inserted into the wall, was an old air conditioner that was making a valiant attempt at cooling the room. The loud whirring, humming sound coming from it felt like spikes being driven into his head and hand. He swung his feet to the floor and began to stand, intending to shut the machine off. As he stood, a wave of dizziness washed over him. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he sat back down on the edge of the bed. He gripped his head in his hands. As the dizziness subsided, he stood again. This time he only felt the throbbing in his hand. Gingerly he walked over to the air conditioner and turned the switch to the off position.
    He turned back toward the bed and began inching his way around it, trying hard not to jar his hand. He had to step over what he recognized as his clothes on the floor and remembered that the painkillers were in one of his shirt pockets. That’s what he needed right now. Pills. He bent over and picked up his shirt. The pills rattled in their bottle and he wrestled it open, shaking some out into his hand.
    As fogged as the pain had rendered his mind, he was sure that there should have been more in the bottle. He threw several into the back of his throat and swallowed them down then. He smiled in anticipation of relief as he sat on the edge of the bed.
    With the a/c off, the room should have been silent. But as the pills kicked in, he realized that for the past few minutes, he’d actually been listening to the sound of a shower running. Next to the head of the bed, a doorway led into a smaller room. In that room he could see a counter with a small refrigerator and a microwave oven. The sounds of running water were coming from inside that room. He wasn’t alone.
    He looked around the room. At the same moment he saw the dress draped over the chair under the air conditioner, the water stopped running in the other room. “Well, there you are.” The voice startled him, and he looked up to see a woman standing in the doorway with just a towel wrapped around her body. The sight of her jogged his memory as bits and pieces of the previous night began to pop in and out of his head. The towel was barely large enough to provide any modesty, although that was probably her last consideration.
    “Uh, yeah. Who are you?” he asked.
    “Oh, Sugar, we had such a good time last night. It’s no wonder you don’t remember.”
    He looked up at her blankly as more bits flashed through his head.
    “Name’s Holly. We met last night at the bar. It’s just a short walk