Covet - A Novel of Fallen Angel Part 5

No wonder shead sought out someone else.

And if Jim had to handicap which of the seven sins diPietro was guilty of, there wasnat much of a contest: Avarice was stamped all over not only the guyas designer wardrobe but his car, his woman, and his taste in real estate. He liked his money, this one.

aListen, Iam going to get a nursea"a aNo.a Jim pushed himself up on the pillows. aI donat like nurses.a Or doctors. Or dogs. Or angelsasaintsawhatever those four lads were.

aWell, then,a diPietro said smoothly, awhat can I do for you?a aNothing.a Thanks to the way destiny had reached up and nailed Jim in the b.a.l.l.s, the question was what he could do for his aboss.a What was it going to take to turn this guyas life around? Did Jim just berate him into a ma.s.sive donation to a soup kitchen? Would that be enough? Or, s.h.i.t, was he going to have to get this silk-suited, M6-driving, misogynistic motherf.u.c.ker to renounce everything material and turn his a.s.s into a monk?

Waitacrossroads. DiPietro was supposed to be at some kind of crossroads. But how the h.e.l.l was Jim supposed to know what that was?

He winced and ma.s.saged his temples.

aYou sure you donat want a nurse?a Just as frustration put him on the verge of an aneurysm, the images on the TV switched and two chefs appeared on screen. And what do you know. The one who had dark hair looked like Colin and the blond guy next to him sported the exact same bossy expression Nigel had. The pair were leaning into the camera with a covered silver tray, and when the lid was popped off, a dinner plate with some kind of itty-bitty fancy food on it was revealed.

G.o.dd.a.m.n it, Jim thought as he glared at the TV. Donat make me do that. By all thatas holya"

DiPietro put his face in Jimas field of vision. aWhat can I do for you?a As if on cue, the chefs on TV grinned, all ta-da!

aI think Iawant to have dinner with you.a aDinner?a DiPietroas eyebrows rose. aAs inadinner.a Jim resisted the urge to flip off the chefs. aYeahabut not like dinner, dinner. Just food. Dinner.a aThatas it.a aYeah.a Jim shifted his legs around so they hung off the edge of the bed. aThatas it.a Reaching over to the IV in his arm, he peeled the tape off the insertion and popped the needle free of his vein. As saline or whatever was in the bag by the bed started to leak onto the floor, he went under the sheets and grunted as he pulled the catheter out of his c.o.c.k. The electrical pads on his chest were next, and then he leaned to the side and quieted the monitoring equipment.

aDinner,a he said gruffly. aThatas all I want.a Well, that and a clue about what he should be doing with the guy. But hopefully a side order of hereas-an-idea would come with the meal.

As he stood up, the world spun and he had to use the wall for balance. After a couple of deep breaths, he lurched for the bathrooma"and knew when the hospital johnny broke open because diPietro said f.u.c.k under his breath.

Clearly the guy was getting a look-see of what was all over Jimas back.

Pausing at the door, Jim looked over his shoulder. aIs afuuuuuucka the way rich people say yes?a As their eyes met, diPietroas suspicious stare narrowed even further. aWhy the h.e.l.l do you want to have dinner with me?a aBecause we have to start somewhere. Tonightas good for me. Eight oaclock.a When all that came back at him was tense silence, Jim smiled a little. aJust to help you along, itas either dinner or I file a workersa-comp action against you that will make your checkbook bleed. Your choice and Iam good with either outcome.a Vin diPietro had dealt with a lot of SOBs in his lifetime, but this Jim Heron guy was high on the list. It wasnat the outright threat, necessarily. Or the two hundred pounds on that big frame. Or even all that att.i.tude.

The real trouble was the guyas eyes: Anytime a stranger looked at you like he knew you better than family, you had to wonder what the angle was. Had he done his research? Did he know where your bodies were buried?

What kind of threat was he to you?

And dinner? The b.a.s.t.a.r.d could have squeezed him for cash, but all he wanted was meat and two veg?

Unless the real ask was going to come outside of the hospital.

aDinner at eight,a Vin said.

aAnd because Iam a fair guy, Iall let you pick the place.a Well, h.e.l.l, that was easy. If there was going to be trouble, a public peanut gallery was not the kind of condiment Vin was after. aMy duplex at the Commodore. You know the building?a Heronas eyes went to the window over the bed and then returned. aWhat floor?a aTwenty-eighth. Iall tell the doorman to let you up.a aSee you tonight then.a Heron turned away, flashing that back of his again.

Vin swallowed another curse as he got a second gander at the black tattoo that covered every inch of skin Heron was showing. Against the vista of a graveyard, the Grim Reaper stared out of that muscled back, a hood shielding its face, its eyes glowing through the shadow created by the robe. One bony hand was locked on its scythe, and the body was leaning forward, its free palm reaching out as if in a moment it was going to s.n.a.t.c.h your soul. Equally as creepy, there seemed to be a tally at the bottom: Underneath the fringe of the Reaperas robes, there were two rows of little line marks grouped in fives.

You added that s.h.i.t up and you got to a hundred pretty d.a.m.n easy.

The bathroom door shut just as a nurse came rushing in, her crepe-soled shoes squeaking on the floor. aWhatawhere is he?a aHe unplugged himself. I think heas taking a p.i.s.s and then leaving.a aHe canat do that.a aGood luck changing his mind.a Vin headed out and walked down to the waiting room. Leaning inside, he got the attention of the two workmen who had insisted on hanging around until Heron woke up. The one on the left had piercings on his face and the hard-a.s.s, kinked-out air of someone who enjoyed pain. The other was huge with a long, dark braid over the shoulder of his leather jacket.

aHeas ready to go home.a Pierced got to his feet. aThe doctors are releasing him already?a aGot nothing to do with the docs. He made the decision himself.a Vin nodded down the hall. aHeas in room six sixty-six. And heas going to need a ride home.a aWeare on it,a Pierced said, his silver eyes serious. aWeall get him where he needs to go.a Vin good-byead the pair and went over to catch an elevator down to the first floor. As he stepped inside the car, he took out his BlackBerry and called Devina to let her know they were having a guest for dinner. When he got voice mail, he kept it short and sweet and tried not to wonder what the h.e.l.l she was doing while he was leaving his message.

Or who, as was the case.

Halfway down, the elevator b.u.mped to a halt and the doors opened to let a pair of men in. As the trip downward resumed, the two traded affirming noises, like theyad just concluded a conversation satisfactorily and were reinforcing the fact. They were both dressed in slacks and sweaters, and the one on the left was balding at the crown, his brown hair pulling away like it was afraid being on top of the mountaina.

Vin blinked. And then blinked again.

A shadow bloomed all around the balding man, the glimmering, shifting aura the color of pencil lead and the consistency of heat waves on pavement.

It couldnat beaoh, G.o.d, noaafter all these years of quiet, it couldnat be back.

Curling his hands into fists, Vin closed his eyes and willed away the vision, kicking it out of his brain, denying it access to his neurons. He did not just see that. And if he had, it was a misread of the overhead lighting.

The s.h.i.t was not back. Head gotten rid of it. It was not back.

He cracked a lid, looked over at the guyaand felt like head been punched in the gut: The translucent shadow was as obvious as the clothes the man was wearing and as tangible as the person standing next to him.

Vin saw dead people, all right. Before they died.

The double doors opened at the lobby, and after the pair filed out, Vin dropped his head and walked as fast as he could for the exit. He was making good time, running from the side of himself head never understood and didnat want anything to do with, when he slammed into a white coat who was carrying an armful of files. As paperwork and manila folders took flight like startled birds, Vin helped steady the woman and then dropped down to help her clean the mess up.

The balding man whoad stood ahead of him in the elevator did the same.

Vinas eyes locked on the guy and refused to budge. The smoke was emanating from the left side of the manas chestaboiling up into the air from a specific spot.

aGo see a doctor,a Vin heard himself say. aGo see one right away. Itas in your lungs.a Before anyone could ask him what the h.e.l.l he was talking about, Vin scrambled to his feet and tore out of the building, heart in his throat, breath coming in short blasts.

His hands were shaking by the time he got to his car, so it was a good thing BMWs let you get inside and start the engine without plugging the key into anything.

Gripping his steering wheel, he shook his head back and forth.

Head thought head left all that freaky bulls.h.i.t behind. He thought that second-sight c.r.a.p was solidly in his past. Head done what head been told to do, and even though he hadnat believed in the actions head taken, they had appeared to work for almost twenty years.

Ah, s.h.i.tahe couldnat go back to the way it had been before.

Just couldnat.

CHAPTER 7.

When Jim came out of the bathroom, diPietro was gone and a nurse with a lot to say had taken his place. While she went on aboutas.h.i.t, whatever the h.e.l.l it wasaJim focused over her shoulder in hopes of cutting short the tirade.

aAre you done?a he asked when she took more than a single breath.

Crossing her arms over her large bosom, she looked at him like she was hoping shead be the one to put his catheter back in. aIam going to call the doctor.a aWell, good for you, but itas not going to change my mind.a He glanced around, figuring the private room head gotten was diPietroas influence. aWhat happened to my things?a aSir, you were nonresponsive up until about fifteen minutes ago, and you were dead when they brought you in. So before you take off like you had the common cold, you shoulda"a aClothes. Thatas really all Iam interested in.a The nurse stared at him with a kind of hatred, like she was so done with patients giving her lip. aDo you think youare immortal?a aAt least for the time being,a he muttered. aLook, Iam through with arguing. Get me something to wear and tell me where my wallet is, or Iam walking out in this and making the hospital pay for my taxi home.a aWait. Here.a aNot. For. Long.a As the door eased shut, he paced around, energy burning through him. Head woken up logy, but that was all gone now.

Man, he could remember this feeling, back when head been in the service. Once again, he had a goal, and as before, that gave him the power to throw off exhaustion and injury and anyone who threatened to divert him from his target.

Which meant that nurse had better get out of his way.

Not surprisingly, when she came back a couple of minutes later, she brought not one, but three reinforcements. Which was not going to help her. While the doctors formed a circle of rational thinking around Jim, he just watched their mouths move and their eyebrows go up and down and their elegant hands gesticulate.

As he thought about his new joba"because he sure as h.e.l.l wasnat listening to the MD brigadea"he wondered how he was going to know what to do. Yeah, he had a date with diPietroabut then what? And, holy h.e.l.l, was that girlfriend going to be there?

Talk about aguess whoas coming to dinner.a He focused on the peanut gallery. aIam done. Iam leaving. Can I have my clothes now, thanks.a Crickets in the background. Then everyone walked out in a huff, proving that they thought he was stupid, but not mentally compromiseda"because adults who had their marbles were allowed to make bad choices.

As the door was shutting, Adrian and Eddie stuck their heads in the room.

Ad smiled. aSo you tossed the white coats out on their a.s.ses, huh?a aYup.a The guy chuckled as he and his roommate stepped inside. aWhy does this not surprise mea"a The whistle-blower nurse barged past them with a pair of hospital scrubs and a large Hawaiian shirt draped over her forearm. Ignoring Eddie and Adrian as if they werenat even there, she tossed the threads onto the bed and presented Jim with a clipboard. aYour things are in that closet and your billas been taken care of. Sign this. Itas a form stating that you are releasing yourself AMA. Against medical advice.a Jim took the black Bic from her and drew an X on the signature line.

The nurse looked down at the mark. aWhat is that?a aMy signature. An X is legally sufficient. Now will you excuse me?a He untied the neck ribbon on the johnny and let the thing drop from his body.

Full-frontal got her out of the room without further conversation.

As she took off at a dead run, Adrian laughed. aNot much on the words, but you know how to get things done.a Jim turned around and drew on the scrub bottoms.

ah.e.l.l of a tat you got there,a Adrian said softly.

Jim just shrugged and reached for the ugly-a.s.s shirt. The color combination was red and orange on a white background, and he felt like a frickina Christmas present with the d.a.m.n thing on.

aShe gave you that because she hates you,a Adrian said.

aOr maybe sheas just color-blind.a More likely it was the former, though.

Jim went to the closet and found his boots lined up on the bottom and a plastic bag with the St. Francis Hospital seal hanging on a hook. He put his bare feet into his Timberlands and took his jacket out of the bag, covering up the d.a.m.n shirt. His wallet was still in his coatas inside pocket, and he went through the folds. Everything was there. His fake driveras license, his false social security card, and the VISA debit card that linked to his Evergreen Bank account. Oh, and the seven dollars that was change from his having bought the turkey sandwich and the coffee and the c.o.ke that morning.

Before life had FUBARad out big-time.

aAny chance either of you didnat come on a motorcycle?a he asked the roommates. aI need a ride back to the site to pick up my truck.a Although to get out of here, head hop on the back b.u.mp of a Harley if he had to.

Adrian grinned and swept a hand through that gorgeous hair of his. aBrought my other wheels. Figured youad need transport.a aIall take a clown car at this point.a aGive me a little more credit than that.a The three of them left, and when they pa.s.sed by the nursing station, no one got in their way, even though all the staff stopped what they were doing and glared.

The trip from St. Francis to diPietroas nascent temple took about twenty minutes in Adrianas Explorer, and he had AC/DC playing the entire time. Which wouldnat have been a problem, except for the fact that the guy sang every word of every song and was never going to be the next American Idol: f.u.c.ker wasnat just tone-deafa"he had white-boy rhythm and way too much enthusiasm.

As Eddie stared out the window like head turned to stone, Jim cranked the volume even louder in hopes of drowning out the wounded badger behind the wheel.

When they finally turned onto diPietroas dirt drive, the sun had set and the light was draining from the sky, the tree stumps and the raw patches casting sharper shadows because of the angle of illumination. The hacked-up land was utterly stark and unappealing, and contrasted badly with the unrazed opposite sh.o.r.e, but no doubt diPietro was going to replant it with specimen everything.

He was definitely the type who had to have the best.

As they pulled up to the house, Jimas truck was the only one left, and he was ready to jump out at it before the Explorer rolled to a stop.

aThanks for the ride,a he shouted.

aWhat?a Adrian went for the volume and turned it all the way down. aWhat you say?a In the acoustic vacuum, Jimas ears rang like church bells, and he resisted the urge to try to shake the vibration out of his skull by slamming his forehead into the dashboard.

aI said, thanks for the ride.a aNo problem.a Adrian nodded at the F-150. aYou okay to drive?a aYeah.a After he got out, he and Eddie pounded knuckles, and then he walked over to his truck. As he went, his right hand searched out the pocket of the shirt the hospital had given him. No Marlboros. d.a.m.n it. But come on, like coffin nails were going to be a parting gift when you pulled out of St. Francis?

While Adrian and Eddie waited for him, he filled his cigaretteless hand with his keys and unlocked hisa"

A flash of movement by the back tire caught his eye.

Jim looked down as the dog head shared his lunch with limped out from under the security of the transmission system.

aOhano.a Jim shook his head. aListen, I told youaa There was the sound of a car window going down and then Adrianas voice: aHe likes you.a The mutt did that curled-sit thing and stared up at Jim.

s.h.i.t. aThat turkey I gave you sucked. You have to know that.a aIf youare hungry, everything tastes good,a Adrian cut in.

Jim glanced over his shoulder. aWhy are you still here? No offense.a Adrian laughed. aNone taken. Later.a The Explorer reversed, its tires crunching over the cold ground, its headlights swinging around and hitting the half-done house before sweeping across the cleared acreage and the river beyond. As the illumination headed off down the lane, Jimas eyes adjusted in the darkness, and the mansion presented itself as a jagged beast, the enclosed first floor its belly, the ragged second story framing its thorned head, the scattered piles of stacked brush and logs the bones of its victims. Its arrival had consumed the peninsula, and the more it gathered strength, the more it would dominate the landscape.

G.o.dayou were going to be able to see it for miles in all directions, from land and water and sky. It was a real temple to greed, a monument to everything Vin diPietro had obtained in his lifea"which made Jim willing to bet that the guy had come from nothing. People who had money inherited old houses this size; they didnat build them.

Man, derailing diPietro from this s.h.i.t was going to be a hard sell. Very hard. And somehow, the threat of eternal d.a.m.nation just didnat seem like enough of a motivator. Guy like this wasnat going to believe in life in the hereafter. No f.u.c.king way.

As a cold wind rolled across the property, Jim looked back down at the dog.

The thing seemed to be waiting for an invitation. And prepared to sit it out for eternity.

aMy apartmentas a pit,a Jim said as they stared at each other. aAbout on a level with that sandwich. You come with me and it ainat no lap-of-luxury gig.a The dog pawed at the air as if a roof and four walls were all it was looking for.

aYou sure about this?a More with the pawing.

aOkay. Fine.a Jim unlocked the cabas door and bent down to pick up the thing, hoping head read the conversation correctly and wasnat going to lose the tip of a finger. All was cool, though. The dog just lifted its b.u.t.t and gave its body up to the palm that encircled its belly.

ad.a.m.n, we need to put some weight on you, boy.a Jim settled the animal on the pa.s.senger seat and got behind the wheel. The truck started up quick, and he turned the blowers off so that the little guy didnat catch a chill.

Flipping his headlights on, he eased the engine into gear and followed the path Adrian and Eddie had forged, turning around and going out the lane. When he got to Route 151N, he hit the left-hand blinker anda"

The dog ducked under his arm and sat in his lap.

Jim glanced down at the animalas boxy head and realized he had nothing to feed the thing. Or himself.

aYou want more turkey, dog? I can hit the Citgo on the way home.a The thing wagged not only its tail, but its entire bony b.u.t.t.

aOkay. Thatas what weall do.a Jim hit the gas and eased out of diPietroas driveway, his free hand stroking the dogas back. aAh, just one thingaany chance youare housebroken?a

CHAPTER 8.