Alex Kava - Split Second (Maggie ODell Novels)

Synopsis:

After Albert Stucky, a brutal and clever serial killer known as The Collector, escapes from prison, he forces FBI profiler Maggie ODell, the agent who originally captured him, to play a deadly game when he targets her and everyone associated with her, pushing her to the very edge of sanity.

North Dade County Detention Center
Miami, Florida
HalloweenFriday, October 31

Del Macomb wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. The stiff cotton of his uniform stuck to his back, and it was only nine in the morning. How could it be this hot and humid in October?

He had grown up just north of Hope, Minnesota. Back home, ice would be forming at the edges of Silver Lake. His daddy would be writing his sermons while watching the last of the snow geese pass overhead. Del pushed wet strands off his brow. Thinking about his daddy reminded him that he needed a haircut. Crazy stuff to be thinking about. Even crazier that it was stuff that could still make him homesick.

So whos the fucking asshole were chaperoning today?

Dels partner startled him. He winced at Benny Zeekss language, then glanced over at the barrel-chested ex-marine to see if he had noticed. He certainly didnt need another lecturenot that he didnt have a lot to learn from Benny.

Guys said his name is Stucky. He wondered if Benny had heard him. He seemed preoccupied.

At North Dade County Detention Center Benny Zeeks was somewhat of a legend, not only because he was a twenty-five-year veteran, but because he had spent most of that time working up in Starke on death row and even on X Wing. Del had seen his partners scars from scuffles hed won over X Wingers trying to avoid the coffinlike solitary confinement.

He watched Benny shove his shirtsleeves up over his veiny forearms, not bothering to fold or roll them, revealing one of those legendary scars. It intersected a tattoo, a Polynesian dancer who now had a jagged red line across her abdomen as if she had been sliced in half. Benny could still make the dancer dance, flexing his arm and sending the lower half of her into a slow, sexy sway while the other halfthe top halffroze in place, disconnected. The tattoo fascinated Del, intriguing and repulsing him at the same time.

Now his partner climbed into the armored trucks passenger seat, concentrating on negotiating the narrow steps up into the cab. The man moved slower than usual this morning, and Del immediately knew his partner had another hangover. He swung up into the drivers seat, buckling himself in and pretending, once again, not to notice.

Whod you say this asshole is? Benny asked, while he twisted his thermos lid, the short stubby fingers desperate to get at the coffee. Del wanted to tell him the caffeine would only compound his problem, but after four short weeks on the job, he knew better than to try to tell Benny Zeeks anything.

Were taking Brice and Webbers run today.

What the hell for?

Webbers got the flu and Brice broke his hand last night.

How the fuck do you break a hand?

All I heard was that he broke it. I dont know how. Look, I thought you hated the monotony of our regular route. Plus, all the traffic just to get to the courthouse.

Yeah, well, there better not be more paperwork, Benny shifted restlessly as if anticipating the dreaded change in his routine. And if this is Brice and Webbers run, that means this assholes headed up to Glades, right? Puttin him in close custody until his fucking hearing. Means hes some big-time fuckup they dont want down here in our wussy detention lockup.

Hector said the guys name is Albert Stucky. Said hes not such a bad guy, pretty intelligent and friendly. Hector says hes even accepted Jesus Christ as his savior.

Del could feel Benny scowling at him. He turned the key in the ignition and let the truck vibrate, then rumble to a slow start while he braced himself for Bennys sarcasm. He turned the air-conditioning on, blasting them with hot air. Benny reached over and punched it off.

Give the engine some time, first. We dont need that goddamn hot air in our faces.

Del felt his face grow red. He wondered if there would ever be anything he could do to win the respect of his partner. He ignored his simmering anger and rolled down the window. He pulled out the travel log and jotted down the trucks odometer and gas tank readings, letting the routine calm him.

Wait a minute, Benny said. Albert Stucky? Ive been reading about this guy in the Miami Herald. Feebies nicknamed him The Collector.

Feebies?

Yeah, FBI. Jesus, kid, dont you know anything?

This time Del could feel the prickle of red at his ears. He turned his head and pretended to be checking the side mirror.

This Stucky guy, Benny continued, he carved up and slaughtered three or four women, and not just here in Florida. If hes the guy Im thinking of, hes one badass motherfucker. And if hes claiming hes found Jesus Christ, you can bet its because he wants to save his sorry ass from being fried by Old Sparky.

People can change. Dont you believe people can change? Del glanced at Benny. The older mans brow was beaded with sweat and the bloodshot eyes glared at him.

Jesus, kid. I bet you still believe in Santa Claus, too. Benny shook his head. They dont send guys to wait for their trial in close custody because they think hes found Jesus-fucking-Christ.

Benny turned to stare out the window and sip his coffee. In doing so, he missed Del wince again. He couldnt help it. Twenty-two years with a daddy for a preacher made it an instant reaction, like scratching an itch. Sometimes he did it without even knowing.

Del slipped the travel log into the side pocket and shifted the truck into gear. He watched the concrete prison in his side-view mirror. The sun beat down on the yard where several prisoners milled around, bumming cigarettes off each other and enduring the morning heat. How could they enjoy being outside if there was no shade? He added it to his mental list of unfair treatment. Back in Minnesota, he had been quite the activist for prison reform. Lately hed been too busy with the move and starting his new job, but he kept a running list for when he had more time. Little by little hed work his way up to battling causes like eliminating Starkes X Wing.

As they approached the final checkpoint he glanced at the rearview mirror. He almost jumped, startled to find their prisoner staring back at him. All Del could see through the thick slit of glass were the piercing black eyes, and they were looking directly at him in the mirror.

Del recognized something in the prisoners eyes, and a knot tightened in his stomach. He had seen that look years ago as a boy, on one of his trips accompanying his father. They had visited a condemned prisoner, who Dels father had met at one of his prison fellowship meetings. During that visit, the prisoner had confessed all the horrible, unimaginable things he had done to his own family before he murdered thema wife, five children and even the family dog.

As a boy, the details Del heard that day had been traumatizing, but even worse was the evil pleasure the prisoner seemed to get from retelling each detail and watching the impact on a ten-year-old boy. Now Del saw that same look in the eyes of the man in the back of the armored truck. For the first time in twelve years, he felt as if he was looking straight into the eyes of pure evil.

He made himself look away and avoided the temptation to glance back. He pulled out from the last checkpoint and onto the highway. Once they got on the open road, he could relax. He enjoyed driving. It gave him time to think. But when he took a quick left, Benny, who had appeared to be lost in his thoughts, suddenly became agitated.