Richard Montanari: Four Novels of Suspense (52 page)
Read Richard Montanari: Four Novels of Suspense Online
Authors: Richard Montanari
Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Police Procedural, #Mystery & Detective
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here, though.”
Vincent smiled, held on to her hand. Jessica didn’t pull away.
They had agreed to attend marriage counseling; their first session was in just a few days. Jessica wasn’t ready to share her bed, or her life, with Vincent again just yet, but it was a first step. If they were meant to weather these storms, they would.
Sophie had picked some flowers at the house and was methodically distributing them on the grave sites. Because she hadn’t gotten to wear the lemon-yellow Easter dress they had bought at Lord & Taylor’s on the day itself, she seemed determined to wear it every Sunday and holiday until it was too small. Hopefully, that was a long way off.
As Peter began to make his way to the car, a squirrel darted out from behind a headstone. Sophie giggled and gave chase, her yellow frock and chestnut curls radiant in the springtime sun.
She seemed happy again.
Maybe that was enough.
I
T HAD BEEN FIVE DAYS since Kevin Byrne had been moved from intensive care at HUP, the hospital at the University of Pennsylvania. The bullet Andrew Chase had fired that night had lodged in Byrne’s occipital lobe, missing his brain stem by just over a centimeter. He had endured more than twelve hours of cranial surgery, and since that time he had been in a coma.
The doctors said his vital signs were strong, but confided that every week that went by significantly reduced the likelihood that he was going to regain consciousness.
Jessica had met Donna and Colleen Byrne a few days after the incident at her house. They were developing a relationship that Jessica was starting to feel might last a long time. Either in sorrow, or joy. It was too early to tell. She had even learned a few words in sign language.
Today, as Jessica came for her daily visit, she knew she had a lot to do. As much as it made her feel bad to leave, she knew that life would, and must, go on. She’d stay about fifteen minutes. She sat in the chair in Byrne’s flower-filled room, thumbed through a magazine. For all she knew it could have been
Field & Stream
or
Cosmo
.
From time to time, she glanced up at Byrne. He was much thinner; his skin had a deep gray pallor. His hair was just starting to grow back.
Around his neck he wore the silver crucifix that Althea Pettigrew had given him. Jessica wore the angel pendant she had received from Frank Wells. It seemed that they both had their talisman against the Andrew Chases of the world.
There was so much she wanted to tell him, about how Colleen was voted valedictorian at her deaf school, about the death of Andrew Chase. She wanted to tell him that, a week earlier, the FBI had faxed the unit with the information that Miguel Duarte, the man who confessed to the murder of Robert and Helen Blanchard, had an account at a New Jersey bank under a false name. They had traced the money back to a wire transfer received from an offshore account belonging to Morris Blanchard. Morris Blanchard had paid Duarte ten thousand dollars to kill his parents.
Kevin Byrne had been right all along.
Jessica turned back to her magazine, and an article about how and where walleyes spawn. She supposed it was
Field & Stream
after all.
“Hey,” Byrne said.
Jessica nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. It was low and raspy and terribly weak, but it was
there
.
She scrambled to her feet. She leaned over the bed. “I’m here,” she said. “I’m . . . I’m
here
.”
Kevin Byrne opened, then closed his eyes. For a horrifying moment, Jessica was certain he would never open them again. But after a few seconds he proved her wrong. “Got a question for you,” he said.
“Okay,” Jessica said, her heart racing. “Sure.”
“Did I ever tell you why they call me Riff Raff?” he asked.
“No,” she said, softly. She would not cry. She would
not
.
The slightest smile graced his parched lips.
“It’s a good story, partner,” he said.
Jessica took his hand in hers.
She squeezed gently.
Partner.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Publishing a novel is truly a team effort, and no writer was ever blessed with a deeper bench.
Thanks to the Honorable Seamus McCaffery, Detective Patrick Boyle, Detective Jimmy Williams, Detective Bill Frazier, Detective Michele Kelly, Detective Eddie Rocks, Detective Bo Diaz, Sgt. Irma Labrice, Catherine McBride, Cass Johnston, and the men and women of the Philadelphia Police Department. Any mistakes in police procedure are mine and, if I ever get arrested in Philly, I hope this admission counts for something.
Thanks also to Kate Simpson, Jan Klincewicz, Mike Driscoll, Greg Pastore, JoAnn Greco, Patrick Nestor, Vita DeBellis, D. John Doyle, M.D., Vernoca Michael, John and Jessica Bruening, David Najfach, and Christopher Richards.
A huge debt of gratitude to Meg Ruley, Jane Berkey, Peggy Gordijn, Don Cleary, and everyone at The Jane Rotrosen Agency.
Special thanks to Linda Marrow, Gina Centrello, Rachel Kind, Libby McGuire, Kim Hovey, Dana Isaacson, Arielle Zibrak, and the great team at Random House/Ballantine Books.
Thanks to the city of Philadelphia for letting me create schools as well as mayhem.
As always, thanks to my family for living the writer’s life with me. It may be my name on the cover, but it is their patience, support, and love on each and every page.
The Rosary Girls
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2005 by Richard Montanari
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Ballantine and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available from the publisher upon request.
Ballantine Books website address:
www.ballantinebooks.com
eISBN: 978-0-345-48203-7
v3.0
THE SKIN GODS
A NOVEL
RICHARD MONTANARI
BALLANTINE BOOKS 
NEW YORK
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Epilogue
F
OR THE MEN AND WOMEN OF THE
P
HILADELPHIA
P
OLICE
D
EPARTMENT.
Brìgh gach cluiche gu dheireadh.
1
“W
HAT
I
REALLY
want to do is direct.”
Nothing. No reaction at all. She stares at me with those big Prussian blue eyes, waiting. Perhaps she is too young to recognize the cliché. Perhaps she is smarter than I thought. This is either going to make the task of killing her very easy, or very difficult.
“Cool,” she says.
Easy.
“You’ve done some acting. I can tell.”
