The Darkness of Evil (Karen Vail #7)(122)

But for how long?

Jasmine turned around toward Jonathan—but the rear passenger door was swinging closed.

And the seat was empty.





68


Jasmine hoisted herself into the back of the Camry. With the Uber driver blocking the passenger seat and her father likely, hopefully, unconscious outside her front door, it was the fastest way out.

She stepped into the freezing night air. Fifteen yards away Jonathan was stumbling forward, slipping and sliding like a drunken sailor chasing a pretty woman down the street.

Jasmine jogged after him, using a broad-based gait to maintain her balance. She knew that ahead of him was a tall fence that enclosed a children’s play area. As he would soon see, he had nowhere to run, even if he was fully lucid—which, by now, he might be. Her prior victims were older individuals. A young man’s metabolism could be different, so she had to assume the drug had cleared, or was close to clearing, his system.

She caught up to him and tackled him from behind, took him facedown onto the icy ground.

But he twisted onto his back and kicked her in the nose, stunning her and driving her head back.

She literally saw black—and pinpricks of stars twinkling all around her. Her vision cleared and she got slowly to her feet, careful to keep her footing—but Jonathan was in full escape mode and he was scrabbling forward on the slick, frozen snow, moving his legs fast but not getting very far.

He suddenly stopped and straightened up. He had undoubtedly seen the obstacle in his path because he turned to face her.

Nowhere to run.

Nowhere to hide.

Jasmine pulled out an exceptionally lethal knife and smiled. Maybe this would be more enjoyable than she had thought.





69


We’re half a mile away,” Underwood said.

“Is Marcks there yet?”

“His signal just stopped moving. Maybe.”

Vail accelerated and swerved on a patch of black ice, sideswiping a car. C’mon, Karen. Stay in control.

“You need to slow down,” Underwood said, his voice steady even though his right hand was clutching the dashboard while his left maintained a white-knuckled grip on the Samsung.

“If Marcks is there—” She did not finish the sentence—because she did not want to consider the implications. Two killers with my son. No matter how she parsed it, this was not a good situation.

Vail’s brights illuminated the landscape in front of her. “This is that park. Where she killed Rackonelli.”

“Right up ahead,” Underwood said, pointing into the snowy darkness. “A block away.”

Her lights hit what looked like a man lying still in the street beside a white sedan.

“Big body,” Underwood said. “Could be Marcks.”

Vail was going too fast for a residential street in this weather. She tapped her brakes and skidded a bit. “Wait in the car, Thomas.”

“What?”

“You’re not a cop anymore, you don’t even have a gun.”

“And you don’t have any backup.”

As they approached, Vail saw two cars, not just the white sedan.

“You’re retired.”

“Fifteen years from now, you think you’d be waiting in the car while someone else goes after the killer?”

Off to the right were two figures. “That’s Jonathan!”

“And Jasmine.”

Oh my god.





70


Jasmine advanced on Jonathan, a karambit knife fisted in her right hand, its anodized black blade all but hidden from his sight.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” she said. “I’m trying to help you.”

Jonathan’s breathing was rapid and shallow, spewing vapor into the dark, moist air. “Who are you?”

“Your mom’s friend.”

“Bullshit. You—you drugged me or something.”

“That was Jessica, the woman who got into the car before me.”

Jonathan’s eyes were darting back and forth. She knew that look, had seen it in her prior victims. He was trying to fight through the cobwebs to reason it out.

“Come with me, I’ll take you to Robby. He asked me to pick you up. That guy who escaped, Roscoe Lee Marcks, is trying to kill you.”

“What are you talking about? Why would he—”

“To get back at your mother. She helped put him in prison.”

“I don’t—”

“Didn’t you see Marcks back there by the car? He was trying to get to you. I fought him off.” She yanked down on her collar and showed him what surely looked like red marks encircling her neck. “He almost killed me. Now, c’mon! We don’t have time to debate this. He’s gonna wake up, he’s very dangerous.”

Jasmine sensed weakness. He was buying her story and letting his guard down. She held out her left hand and wiggled her fingers. “C’mon,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Let’s go. It’s freezing.”

Jonathan took a step toward her and then stopped. “No.”

Headlights splashed across them as she lunged forward, arcing the karambit in a sweeping motion. Jonathan blocked it with his left forearm then threw a quick right jab, catching Jasmine in the chin and driving her back.