Split Second

“Hey, Be

A long, black shadow blocked the sky.

Once again Del found himself looking into those empty, dark eyes. Albert Stucky loomed above him, tall and straight, a lean, muscular man with sharp features. He reminded Del of a vulture, perched with black wings pressed patiently against its sides, cocking its head, staring, waiting for its prey to stop struggling, to give in to the inevitable. Then, Stucky smiled as though pleased with what he saw. He raised and pointed Be

“You won’t be telling your daddy anything,” Albert Stucky promised in a deep, calm voice. “Tell it to Saint Peter, instead.”

The metal slammed into Del’s skull. A blast of brilliant light swirled together with oceans of blue and yellow and white and then finally…black.

PROLOGUE

North Dade County Detention Center

Miami, Florida

Halloween—Friday, 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, Mi

“So who’s the fucking asshole we’re chaperoning today?”

Del’s partner startled him. He winced at Be

“Guys said his name is Stucky.” He wondered if Be

At North Dade County Detention Center Be

He watched Be

Now his partner climbed into the armored truck’s 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 driver’s seat, buckling himself in and pretending, once again, not to notice.

“Who’d you say this asshole is?” Be

“We’re taking Brice and Webber’s run today.”

“What the hell for?”

“Webber’s 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 don’t 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,” Be

“Hector said the guy’s name is Albert Stucky. Said he’s not such a bad guy, pretty intelligent and friendly. Hector says he’s even accepted Jesus Christ as his savior.”

Del could feel Be

“Give the engine some time, first. We don’t 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 truck’s odometer and gas tank readings, letting the routine calm him.

“Wait a minute,” Be

“Feebies?”

“Yeah, FBI. Jesus, kid, don’t 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,” Be

“People can change. Don’t you believe people can change?” Del glanced at Be

“Jesus, kid. I bet you still believe in Santa Claus, too.” Be

Be

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 Mi

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 prisoner’s 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 Del’s 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 them—a wife, five children and even the family dog.