Saint (3 page)

He hated the quiet.

It had been quiet in that six-by-six hole he was forced to
exist in for months on end.

So quiet he could hear a mosquito walk across cotton.

So quiet he heard the saint coming for him. No one heard the saint.

But he had.

Because it was so damn quiet.

* * * * *

Mississippi

“Whatcha doin’, mister?”

Tobias Folson scowled down at the
brown-skinned boy who took a seat next to him on the park bench. “Nothin.”

“It don’t look like you’re doin’ nothin’”

“Didn’t your mother teach you never to talk
to strangers?”

“Yeah.” The boy nodded, unconcerned. “But
she ain’t around no more, so I do whatever I want.”

“Which is?”

The boy shrugged his thin shoulders.

“Go do it somewhere else then.”

“Don’t you like kids?” the boy asked.

“No.” Tobias continued to stare forward.

“How come?”

“Because I just don’t, okay? Now beat it.”

“You ain’t doin’ nothin’, so what’s it
gonna hurt if I sit here? I ain’t breakin’ no law.”

“I am doing something—it just looks like I’m
doing nothing.”

“Whatcha doin’?”

Tobias leaned back, resting his head on the
top of the too small bench seat, and closed his eyes. “Getting a suntan.”

The kid snorted. “You can’t get no suntan.
You already black. You just get loose from the loony bin or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Want to know what put me there? Kids
like you talkin’ my ear off.”

“Maybe I oughta call the police and tell ’em
you escaped.”

“You do that. I’ll wait here.”

But the boy continued to sit there. “Want
part of my sandwich?” A rustling noise accompanied the question. “I just stole
it from the deli down the street. It’s fresh.”

Tobias sat up again, frowning down at the
smashed sandwich the kid was holding up. “No. And you shouldn’t steal.”

“I ain’t old enough to get a job. ’Sides,
who’s gonna care ’bout one measly sandwich?”

The Korean storeowner cared. The boy was only seven. And
hungry. The same boy who’d pointed out Tobias’ target for what amounted to a
week’s worth of food for his starving family.

The little girl with a bomb strapped to her back.

The bloody infant speared to the wall with a bayonet.

He tried not to remember them. The children. The innocent.

Tobias wanted the boy to go away and stop
talking to him.

But the boy wouldn’t go away. They never
did. They just kept following you around until someone saw and used them to
bring you to your knees.

The saint understood.

The saint had let him have those
child-murdering bastards
.

Go away, boy.

* * * * *

“Maria, wake up.”

She woke to Will’s hand on her shoulder. “What
time is it?”

“Six.”

“In the morning?” It couldn’t be morning
already—she’d only just closed her eyes minutes ago. Was she ever going to get
a restful night’s sleep again? The mattress squeaked as she rolled over and sat
up, rubbing her eyes.

“We need to get moving before it gets light
and people start moving around.”

“Uh, sure, give me a minute.” She slid from
the bed and grabbed her duffel bag, heading to the bathroom.

The rest hadn’t done her much good. Lord,
she looked like someone had taken a bat to her. Still, it could be worse. She
could be dead. Using her fingers, she tried to put some order back into the
loose ringlets hanging around her shoulders, then washed her face, rinsed her
mouth and in general tried to feel human. God what she wouldn’t give for a
toothbrush. This was the hardest part—the fleeing at a moment’s notice to
another unknown destination with nothing but the clothes on her back.

The drive up Harris’ mountain took little
over an hour once they reached the access road. She would like to have enjoyed
the scenery, but she was just too tired.

“This is it.” Will blew out a breath. “Cross
your fingers that Seth’s in residence and not too cranky.”

Cranky? The guy lived on a mountain in the
middle of nowhere all by himself, what did he have to be cranky about? After
traversing the rutted dirt road for what felt like forever, they rounded the
last bend and the log house came into view. Will stopped the car and turned to
face her, his tone serious. “Listen to me because this is important. No matter
what happens after I leave here, you stay with Seth. I won’t be in contact with
you again until the trial, it’s too risky. Promise me, Maria. Promise you’ll
stick to him like glue.”

Will seemed certain this guy could stay
alive long enough for her to do that. “What if he doesn’t want me to stick?”

“Grow very thick skin. He’s rough around
the edges but there isn’t anyone better qualified to keep you safe.” Will put
the car into gear and eased the rest of the way up the narrow drive. Shoving the
gearshift into park, he muttered, “Stay put.”

* * * * *

Been awhile since I’ve had my ass
kicked,
Will thought as he ascended the steps and
rapped on the door of the cabin.

“Got any coffee?” he inquired casually when
the door swung open. Seth Harris still looked the same. Lethal, cast-iron and totally
cantankerous. But then Harris wasn’t known for being a morning person—he was
known for slipping behind enemy lines and slitting throats.

“You came all the way up here for coffee?”
Seth growled.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“My ass.” Harris scowled, but stepped back
to let him in.

Getting into the cabin was half the battle.
So far, he was ahead.

Harris closed the door, pinning him with
unwelcoming eyes. “What do you want, Skaggs?”

No time to butter him up. Might as well
jump in with both feet. “A favor. A big one too. Otherwise I wouldn’t have
traveled halfway across the country to get here in record time.”

“No.”

“Gimme a break, Seth, you don’t even know
what the favor is.”

“I know the answer’s going to be no. I’m
saving you the trouble of asking and getting turned down.”

“You can’t turn me down. I’m going to
grovel.”

“Watch me.”

Will glanced around the sparsely decorated
room. Chair, table, rug, fireplace. Why didn’t Harris just pitch a tent and
camp out permanently? “You fixed the place up a bit.”

Seth’s lip curled. “Are you trying to piss
me off?”

“No. I just need this favor really bad.”

“Grovel then, so I can say no and you can
leave.”

“Not ’til you promise to listen.”

Folding his arms, he said, “I’m listening.”

Will knew that tone. “You’re not really
listening. You’re pretending to listen so you won’t have to hear what I’m going
to say.”

“Will listening get you out of my house
sooner?”

“Yep.”

“Fine. Shoot.”

“Juarez.”

Will stumbled backward when Seth’s knuckles
connected with his jaw. Christ, the man still had a fist of steel. And that
temper of his hadn’t mellowed much over the years either.

Seth’s I-don’t-give-a-fuck expression
didn’t change, but his voice lowered dangerously. “You want to walk out the
door or crawl?”

“Not the old man,” Will continued, gingerly
testing his jaw. He was determined to get through this even if he suffered
broken bones in the process. Which, considering who he was talking to, was a
real possibility. “The son.”

“Naturally. The old man is roasting in hell,
where I sent him.”

“Well I’m trying to do the same to his son,
legally.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

Thankfully his jaw wasn’t broken. Yet. “You
don’t have to give a shit. Just keep a package for me and deliver it on time.
Intact. Juarez moved his operation to the States. We can take him down this
time, but my package has to arrive alive.”

“I’m retired. Get somebody else.”

“There isn’t anybody else.” And Seth damn
well knew it or else he wouldn’t be here, getting his face smashed in. “Hell,
you need an exciting summer vacation. You’re practically a hermit now.”

“I like it that way.”

Will resigned himself to the fact pain was
going to be involved. “I can’t impress upon you how important this is.”

Seth continued to stare at him stonily. “Put
your package in Witness Protection.”

Will shook his head. “You see, I told you,
you weren’t really listening. Where the fuck do you think she was? Juarez finds
her. This time he bombed the house and I almost lost her.”

“Then you’d better fix your leak,” came the
offhand advice.

“No time. I’ll put that on my shit-to-do
list as soon as soon as she’s safe. You know what he’ll do to her if he gets
his hands on her.” Another one of Seth’s lightning strikes connected with his
chin, sending him into the wall beside the door.
Fuck
.

“I know exactly what he’ll do to her,”
Harris grated out. “You should have thought about that before you convinced her
to testify.”

“She came to us,” Will said through the
haze of pain, weaving for a few moments ’til the stars cleared.

“How long are you going to stand there and let
me use you for a punching bag?”

“Until you agree to take her.” Please
Jesus, let it be soon. He really was out of shape.

“No. Call Joan or Gabe or Francis. Maybe
one of them needs the aggravation. I don’t.”

“I don’t know where they are.”

Seth snorted, not in the least bit sorry about
the bruising that was surely forming along his jawline. “You’re the DEA. Find
them.”

“I don’t have that kind of time Goddammit!
Besides, they’re basically a bunch of lunatics. They’re no good unless you’re
there to watch over them.” And that was on a good day.

“The unit is no longer in service, Will.”
Seth left him standing in the living room, still testing his face for
structural damage, and headed to the kitchen.

Will followed. What choice did he have? He
was already waist-deep, what was another few inches? “There’s no money in it
for anyone. It would be pro bono.”

“Jesus, I hate crippling people this early
in the morning.” Seth poured himself a cup of coffee, not bothering to offer
one to his guest. “Walk out of here, Skaggs, while you still can.”

Will stood in the doorway, face throbbing,
vision half blurred. “Help me, Seth. You’re the only one who can.”

“Giving you a lesson in literature won’t do
you any good at this point.” Seth sipped at the brew, letting the steam roll
over his face. “You’ve never even read
Moby Dick
. I’m out, Will. I got out because I craved peace and quiet. Pick up
a mercenary mag and look through the ads if she needs protection that bad.”

Jesus H., this was going to hurt. “It has
to be you.” Will’s breath exploded from his lungs when Harris’ foot connected
with his stomach.

“Are you getting the picture yet, Skaggs?
And don’t even think about throwing up on my kitchen floor.”

Son of a bitch hadn’t even spilled his
coffee. “Can I use your bathroom?” he wheezed.

“Sure.”

Christ, he didn’t remember Seth having such
a deadly foot. Making his way to the bathroom, Will turned on the cold water.
He borrowed a washcloth from the towel rack, groaning as he pressed the cool
cloth to his tender face. “Grouchy bastard,” he murmured to himself, catching
sight of Seth’s dirt bike through the window, where it sat under the eave of
the back porch.

There is a God. Just do it and quit worrying over how pissed he’ll
be.

Some people had the eloquent gift of words
to aid them—Will had a pocket knife.

“Better?” Seth asked without remorse when
he returned to the kitchen.

“Ready for round two.”

“You’ve let yourself get flabby and out of
condition. Must be all that paperwork.”

“I’m not leaving ’til you say yes.”

Seth looked him straight in the eye. “Oh
yes you are.”

* * * * *

Maria sat up in the seat when the cabin
door opened. Just as quickly, Will came sailing across the porch to land on the
hard-packed dirt, face down. Forgetting her aching muscles, she scrambled from
the car, running to drop down beside him.

“Will! Oh my God, are you all right?”
Behind her the cabin door slammed shut.

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“Your face…it’s a mess. What did that guy
do to you?”

He grinned up at her. “You mean you don’t
like it better this way?”

As usual, he was making light of the
situation to keep her from getting antsy. But it was too late, she was already
on edge. “It’s not funny.” She brushed some loose dirt from his mouth. “I take
it he said no.”