Killjoy

Noah, his head down, walked away, obviously so that the conversation would be private. She saw his expression, knew

something was wrong, and anxiously waited.

The conversation lasted a long time. John Paul came back with two keys, took one look at Avery, and said, "What's wrong?"

"Something," she said, leaning into his side.

Noah ended the call and walked back to the car. His gaze was on Avery. "Your aunt and the judge are fine."

"What happened?" John Paul asked.

"There was a delivery; some tanks to be installed behind the physical therapy wing."

"Ah, hell," John Paul whispered. He already knew what was coming. "They blew, didn't they?"

Noah nodded. "The fire took out most of the wing."

"How did Monk get past security?" Avery asked.

"He didn't," Noah said. "The delivery man was killed as he was unloading them. Monk got to those tanks before they were set."

"How many down?" John Paul asked.

"Two dead. An agent named Gorman was injured, but he's go

"How the hell did this happen?" John Paul demanded.

"I'll tell you how it happened. Monk was there on the hospital grounds all that time watching and waiting. He had to have known they couldn't move the judge so soon after her surgery. When the agents put those decoys in the car and drove off, he probably spotted something and knew the women weren't Carrie and the judge."

Noah led the way to their rooms. They were at the far end of the units and had a co

Their room was surprisingly clean. There was a double bed with a floral bedspread, two chairs by the window facing the gravel lot, with a small table and lamp in between. There wasn't a closet. On the far wall was a rack with hangers and built-in shelves next to it.

The second Noah stepped into their room, Avery asked, "Carrie and the judge weren't injured? You're telling me everything?"

"Yes," he said. "Your aunt had just wheeled the judge into the bathroom when it happened. The walls caved in on them and protected them from being incinerated."

Avery felt sick to her stomach. Noah's phone rang again, and he walked into his room. She waited until his back was turned

and then went to John Paul, put her arms around his waist, and held him tight.

He could feel her trembling. "This nightmare will be over soon," he promised. Then, when she didn't answer, he asked,

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"Yes."

"Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I can't think… I need to be able…"

He kissed her brow. "You need a porch swing, don't you?"

She nodded.

"With lilacs," he added.

She smiled because he remembered her happy place.

"I can't give you lilacs, and I can't drum up a porch swing for you, sugar, but water… I can give you lots of that."

Twenty minutes later she and John Paul walked hand in hand along the beach. Both of them had changed into shorts and

had left their shoes on the steps where Noah sat.

Dark clouds were moving in, obscuring the sun. The beach was virtually deserted, and when Avery sat down and assumed the lotus position, John Paul didn't intrude. He walked back to the steps and sat down next to Noah.

"What the hell is she doing?" Noah asked when Avery hadn't moved for several minutes.

"Thinking," he answered.

"Okay."

When the sun was dropping, taking the light of the day, John Paul got up and went to Avery. Her eyes were closed. He

squatted down in front of her and waited, knew she sensed he was there.

A moment passed before she acknowledged him. She opened her eyes and looked into his. A single tear slid down her cheek.

She took a deep cleansing breath.

"I need to make a call."

Chapter 36

Monk was ready to make his move.

There was a "no vacancy" sign in the window of the manager's office, and nailed to the door was another sign. "Closed until further notice."

Monk knew the targets were inside. He had already canvassed the area, knew it like the back of his hand. Three cars were parked behind the motel. He was certain two of them belonged to federal agents assigned to protect Avery. The third vehicle

was Renard's.

Monk drove Jilly past the motel so she could see where it was going to happen, and she could barely contain her excitement

when she saw the light shimmering along the edge of the tightly drawn drapes in the unit Monk had pointed out to her.

"She's in there," she whispered, her excitement brimming in her voice.

Monk pulled into the parking lot up the street from Milt's Motel. The lot did double duty for patrons of the old Spanish-style

movie theater, complete with bell tower, and the spillover from the Church of the Risen. He parked the car so that it faced the street, then handed Jilly his binoculars and took a drink of his iced tea.

"You're now officially on a stakeout."

She giggled. "This is wonderful."

Her excitement thrilled him. "You're having a good time, aren't you?"

"Oh, yes," she gushed. "It's better than I could ever have imagined. Much better."

A car pulled into the parking lot, and she quickly lowered the binoculars. "Are you sure we're safe here?"

"Of course we are. I'll always make it safe for you."

They shared a smile, and then Jilly lifted the binoculars again. She could just see the light framing the window, and she was

trying to imagine what was happening inside the room.

Another car pulled in and parked three rows behind them. There was a revival going on inside the church, and it was also

dollar night at the movie theater. The lot was nearly full now.

Jilly offered him the binoculars, but he didn't need to look. He had already spent one full night and day doing reco

It wasn't enough, but it would have to do. Normally, he would have spent at least two weeks following his subject, learning his routine, but this wasn't a normal situation. Time was ru

she wanted instant gratification.

"How many policemen are inside with them?" she asked.

"Agents," he corrected. "Not policemen. There are four."

"And you'll get them all?"

"Yes."

They were sitting ducks. His for the taking.

The night before, Monk had watched Renard sneak out the back door, get into his car, and drive away. Monk hadn't had a

clear shot at him, but he wouldn't have taken it even if he had because he didn't want his primary targets moved once again.

He had something special pla

Renard had returned to the motel thirty minutes later carrying four big pizzas and a plastic bag Monk guessed was filled with

beer or soft drinks.

He was disgusted with Renard's carelessness. He was certain the man didn't have any idea he was being observed. Smug complacency. That's what it was. He was disappointed in Renard. He'd expected better from his adversary and had made the mistake of believing that Renard was a professional. An equal. He realized now how foolish that hope had been. No one could ever equal or measure up to his standards. Jilly had been right all along. He was a legend.

"I think it might be a good idea to do it tonight," Jilly said.

"You're eager."

"Yes."

"Tomorrow," he promised.

"I don't want to wait too much longer."

"I know."

"I wonder if Carrie is feeling safe again. Can you imagine how claustrophobic she and Avery must be feeling now? Being cooped up in that flea-infested room night and day? They must be going crazy."

"I've deliberately waited," he explained, "so that the agents would be bored and… lethargic. Yes, that's the word. Lethargic."