"Mind if we get in your car, Detective? I think you're right, I'm f**king freezing all of a sudden."
"Yeah. Sure."
Good plan. Except when Veck tried to walk forward, the heavy muscles of his legs locked up tight against his bones, the lactic acid buildup from the sprint to the rim compromising not only his ability to walk, but challenging his pain tolerance.
"Legs hurt?" de la Cruz asked as he measured the hobbling.
"Nah, they feel great."
De la Cruz laughed. "Like I said, you need the hospital."
"It's nothing that a good stretch and some Motrin can't cure. Just take me home, cool?"
They both got into the unmarked, and as soon as de la Cruz fired up the engine, the good detective cranked the heat. Which somehow made the ice cold in the core of Veck's body worse.
"Ffff-uck," he muttered, grabbing his forearms.
"No wonder you don't want to take that bike of yours back."
"Huh?"
De la Cruz put the car in drive and eased forward around the lane's first corner ... and there was Veck's ride. Parked safely off to the side.
"Hold up," Veck said roughly. "I want to get the key."
"Guess you were distracted when you got here."
"You could say that."
As Veck went to get out, the blast of cold wind eased the deep freeze in his bones - which probably meant he was into hypothermia territory - and to protect the other man from the gust, he shut the door.
Sure enough, the key was in the bike's ignition.
"Nice touch, Heron," he whispered, looking around at the brush.
Over on the left, a soft glow illuminated the budding trees.
Veck took a deep breath. "There you are. I thought you'd blown this Popsicle stand."
"That's usually my MO." Heron stepped out, and Veck frowned as a shaggy little dog limped forward with him. "I'm making an exception in your case, though."
"Lucky me." Veck tempered the reply with a half smile. "That your dog?"
"He's everyone's, really."
Veck nodded, even though there was no question to answer. "So I think I need to thank you."
"Not in the slightest. As I said going in, s'all you, buddy."
"And I guess I passed. That whole crossroads thing."
"You did. Flying colors." The angel stretched out his pack of smokes. "Cig?"
"Thank you, baby Jesus." Veck slipped one free and then leaned into Heron's lighter. "Oh, man ... this is better than a parka."
"Yeah, no offense, but your lips are blue."
"Just the makeup. I wanted to look pretty for you."
Heron grinned. "Asshole."
"Actually" - Veck exhaled - "I'm going to be looking for a new job soon - thought I'd try auditioning for the Michelin man. You saying I need to go more silver?"
"Yeah. That's it." The angel got serious. "You're free now. You can put this shit behind you. She's never going to bother you again."
Obviously, the "she" was not Reilly. "What was that brunette ?"
"A devil of a woman."
"You got that right."
"So now you need to go to that Reilly of yours." This was all said in the tone of What are you waiting for, idiot.
Veck stared at the glowing tip of his cigarette. "I think she's dealt with enough."
"You're free."
"And so is she."
Jim cursed under his breath. "Look down."
"Excuse me?" When the angel pointed at the rough earth of the road's shoulder, Veck obliged - only to roll his eyes when he saw nothing. "What."
"Behind you, jackass."
Veck muttered something vile, and looked over his -
On the ground, stretching behind him ... was a single shadow.
"Like I said, you're free."
Veck stared at the nice-and-normal for what felt like ages. Then he refocused on the angel. "My father ... he thinks the execution is going to get stayed. He told me he was going to live."
"Not a bet I'd take." Jim shook his head. "Maybe that was true if you'd have made a different choice, but thanks to the way things worked out ... I think you'll like what you see in the papers soon enough. It's what my boss has told me all along - there are no coincidences."
"I thought you were the boss."
"I wish."
"Veck? Who're you talking to?"
Veck glanced at de la Cruz, who'd craned out of the unmarked. "Ah ..." When he looked back, Heron had disappeared, as if he had never been there. The little animal, too. " Ah ... no one."
"Look, I don't care if you smoke in the car. Especially if it'll save you from frostbite."
Veck looked back to where Jim had been standing. The man was gone, the glow had faded ... and yet the presence remained somehow.
Go to your woman, you moron, Jim declared into his head.
"Veck?" de la Cruz said. "Come on, you can smoke in here."
"Nah," Veck replied after a moment. Then he stabbed the ember out on the sole of his boot. "I think I'm quitting."
"Again."
Veck snagged the motorcycle's key and got back in the unmarked. As he and the other man closed their doors, Veck stared across the front seat.
"Do you believe in God, Detective."
De la Cruz made the sign of the cross over his chest. "Absolutely."
"So does that mean that demons exist?"
"Hell is real. Unless you've forgotten that girl we found at the motel? Or what happened to Sissy Barten."
"I haven't forgotten."
De la Cruz nodded and began driving off. "But yeah, I got the faith. And I believe that sinners go to Satan's living room for eternity and the just go to Heaven and the mighty Lord provides. I attend Mass with my family every week, and the Good Book" - he pounded on the glove compartment, the door flipped open, and a little red Bible glowed in the tiny light - "is always with me. If there's one thing that life's taught me, God takes care of us, my man."
"So you think ... people can be saved."
"No, I know it. And once you got the faith - and I don't care what kind it is - it transforms you. There's no going back, and no one and nothing can take it away from you. You open the heart, and it comes in, and that's when you know hit's going to be all right."
Veck nodded and fell silent as he stared out the front window.
Together, they bumped along the dirt lane. Got out to the county road and hung a left. Angled over for the highway.
After they were on the Northway and headed toward Caldwell, Veck said, "Permanently."
"Huh?"
"I'm quitting permanently."
De la Cruz looked over. "You know ... this time, I believe you."
"Take me to the hospital."
"Emergency room or inpatient."
Veck smiled a little. "Wherever my partner is."
De la Cruz grinned and clapped him on the chest. "Now you talkin', my man. Now you makin' some sense."
Chapter 49
Far above, in Heaven's lap, as Jim stood at the foot of the manse of souls and stared up at the second flag waving lazily on the parapet, he thought ... two more to go.
If he managed to get two more of those flappy bastards on top of that wall, he could quit this shit.
And his mother would be safe forever.
And Sissy would be free. If he hadn't sprung her before then.
"You have done well."
Nigel's autocratic English accent didn't seem quite so annoying.
"Yeah, but I'm not stopping now."
"In this you are correct."
Jim nodded, and then looked over at his boss. The guy was dressed in a pretty damn sharp suit, this time black with pinstripes. Matter of fact, he looked like an elegant gangster as he stood beside a table set with fancy-schmancy plates and crap. Two of the other archangels and the big Irish wolfhound were seated, clearly waiting with patience for the go-ahead on the dessert that was all laid out.
"On that note," Jim murmured, "I'm going back down. Next round will be starting soon."
Or at least, he hoped it would.
"Won't you stay for an after-dinner sweet? We have a seat for you."
"Thanks," Jim said. "But I've got someone I have to see."
"Very well."
Except before he could disappear, Nigel drew him aside, out of the earshot of the others. "We are not yet finished, you and I."