The Darkness of Evil (Karen Vail #7)(123)

The knife dropped from her hand and Jonathan went for it—but so did Jasmine.

Jonathan snatched the karambit off the ice a second before she could get there and buried the blade in her abdomen.

Jasmine gasped and froze in place, hunched over.

She stumbled a couple of steps, then fell to her knees.





71


Vail lurched, slipped, and slid toward her son, Glock in hand. She glanced at Jasmine on the ground and ran into Jonathan, embracing him so hard he had to pry her away to breathe.

“Thank God. Thank God.”

“Is she dead?”

Vail let go of Jonathan and knelt beside Jasmine. She holstered her Glock and felt for a pulse, then rolled Jasmine onto her back.

A knife was buried deep in her stomach, only the handle protruding.

Jasmine brought a hand up and made a weak attempt to pull it out. Vail placed her palm atop the karambit and kept it in place.

Blood pulsed from the wound.

“You’re pathetic,” Jasmine whispered, struggling to keep her eyes open. “Seven years … you were … clueless …”

Vail tightened her grip on the knife’s handle. “Took me a while. But in the end we got it right.” She looked into Jasmine’s eyes. “Time to meet your maker, to pay for what you did.”

Jasmine stared at her and seconds later, her hand dropped from the knife.

Vail stood up and handed Jonathan her cell. “Call an ambulance.” She hustled over to the Camry and bent over Marcks to feel for a pulse.

But two meaty hands grabbed her wrist, tight and unyielding.

He got to his feet and swung Vail around as if she were a sack of apples and pulled her against his body. He put her in a headlock, both arms forced skyward.

She could not move. Could not reach her gun. Or the tanto.

Vail squirmed and tried swinging her left forearm back, but he had a good hold on her, so good that she had only a limited range of motion with that limb. The right was completely immobilized.

He pushed forward slightly, forcing her head farther down toward her chest.

“Trying to snap my neck?”

“If I was trying, it’d be broken already. But make one wrong move and I’ll do just that.”

“Yeah,” she said, struggling to breathe over the intense pain. “I got that.”

He removed her Glock and tossed it to the ground behind him. He felt around and located the tanto, then slid it out of its sheath and brought it around the front of her neck. Pressed it against her carotid.

“Mom!” Jonathan had Jasmine’s bloody knife in his hands, forearm taut, his body infused with anger. “Let go of her,” he said between clenched teeth. “Now.”

Marcks snorted. “You know who I am?”

“Let go of her.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Marcks said. “Put that knife down or I’ll kill her.”

“No way do you put that knife down,” Vail said. “If he’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me. He’s not going to spare me because you drop your weapon. He’s a killer, Jonathan.”

Jonathan eyes were wavering, looking at Marcks, the knife, back to Marcks—everywhere but his mother.

“There’s no way out of this for you,” Vail said. “You’re going back to prison for all the people you killed. William Reynolds, Nathan Anderson, Oliver—”

Marcks squeezed harder, pushing her arm forward another inch.

He’s gonna break my neck.

“I’ve had enough of you, Vail. You’re gonna do what I tell you to do. First you’re going to admit you got it wrong. In front of your son, tell him you f*cked up, that you made my life a living hell, helped put me in prison for murders I didn’t commit.”

“That was my doing, *.” Underwood’s voice.

Vail did not know what was happening—she was forced to stare at the snow-covered ground—but she had a pretty good idea: Underwood had taken the Glock Marcks had thrown aside and was holding it against the man’s ear. Or temple. Or back.

“You got a beef?” Underwood said. “It’s with me. I’m the one who drew up that profile. Anyone’s responsible, it’s me. Now drop the knife or I’ll pull this trigger and feel damn good about it.”

“Jonathan,” Vail said, “go wait in the car.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Make him drop that knife!”

“First I want an apology,” Marcks said.

“An apology?” Underwood grunted. “You know, you’re right. I’m really sorry you killed your wife and a bunch of other innocent people. Because you’re gonna get the death penalty. Now drop the f*cking knife or I’ll drive a 9-millimeter round through your goddamn skull and save the taxpayers a few million dollars. You have till three. Three.”

Marcks loosened his grip on both Vail and the tanto, which fell to the ground. Vail knocked his hands away and grabbed his wrists, pulled out her handcuffs and ratcheted them down hard.

The headlights of two approaching SUVs bounced a few dozen yards away. The vehicles drove over the curb and into the park, stopping just in front of them.

Hurdle got out of the lead vehicle, followed by Curtis and Walters, Morrison and Tarkoff.