Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(56)

With his air depleted, he surfaced again and gulped an extra large lung full. The water was cold, but his body had begun to acclimate to the temperature. This time, his hand struck the edge of the partially open door right away. He yanked it open farther. If nothing else, he planned to retrieve something from the glove box. A vehicle registration would be nice. Maybe a weapon or other evidence. Who knew, right?

But instead of access to the interior, he got something else. An object followed the door’s outward momentum and bumped his forehead. A solid object. Big. Like a—body.

Damn! Gabe choked on a mouthful of water.

He flailed backwards, kicking to get away from that thing closing in on him. No such luck. It followed, bumping his thrashing legs with something hard that felt a lot like a—head.

A root reached out from nowhere, snagging his real foot above his ankle. He knew the corpse hadn’t really grabbed him. Too bad panic didn’t.


Damn it! Another mouthful of river water went down the wrong pipe. Choking, he stroked to the surface, pulling away from the nightmare he’d unwittingly discovered.

Finally! Topside!

“Jesus Christ!” spewed out of his mouth along with a lot of dirty, river water. The bloated dead guy surfaced, too, right on Gabe’s six. He kicked away from it, but it spread its arms wide like it wanted a big hug. The disgusting thing wore a ridiculously tight-fitting business suit and a strangling tie.

Gabe flailed backward.

It bobbed and rolled, revealing the milky-white eyes of what appeared to have once been a Caucasian male, his mouth open in a silent, gaping scream. Its fingers were too chewed up to have grabbed him. The thing seemed to want Gabe’s company, though, drifting closer with every backward thrust he took.

Gabe dog-paddled to keep afloat and his distance. Holy, goddamned shit.

With a final bubbling snort, the body faced the sky before it rolled face-down, its left palm slapping the water with a pathetically weak smack. The partially eaten scalp with strands of long black hair declared there were fish in the river. Hungry fish.

Gabe half-staggered, half crab-walked to shore, choking down a scream. Cursing was manlier, so he ripped off his most tame expletive instead of what he’d been thinking. “Damn it to hell! Damn it! Damn it!”

He wiped the river off his face, still spitting the river out of his mouth, the same river that he now knew held a rotting corpse. “Blah! Damn! Blah. Sure didn’t plan on... that,” he said to the dogs and the camcorder.

Whisper and Smoke turned to look at him briefly, but turned right back to the corpse bobbing its way to shore. It didn’t come to a rest until its face scraped the shallows, as if it knew right where Gabe had gone. Of course it was simply the current he’d created by scrambling out of the water, but still. The dead guy creeped him out.

Goose bumps lifted up his back and over his shoulders. Huge. Really big, goose bumps.

Whisper and Smoke took a few steps toward it to investigate, their noses to the water.

“No. Come on, guys. Stay away from... that.”

The dogs complied, sniffing him up and down instead. Smoke licked the water off his face while Whisper planted his big butt right on top of Gabe’s bionic foot. Good enough. He brought the camcorder up and aimed it into his face for one final curtain call in his best Porky Pig voice. “Th... th... that’s all, folks.”

Fumbling to get his cell phone out of his nice dry jacket pocket, he rang his Senior Agent. “Is Kelsey sitting with you?” he asked, shivering uncontrollably.

“No. She’s taking a nap, and Shelby’s baking cookies. Why? What’s wrong? You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” Gabe flopped to his back, gulping in a deep breath of clean air and thankful for the sunny blue sky overhead. Good was the last thing he was, but no guy admits that. “You know that video I was making? Sonofabitch turned into a horror flick.”





Chapter Seventeen


Mark made a quick trip home to grab Libby and his two little girls before he headed over to visit Kelsey and the guys. JayJay giggled with excitement and baby Faith giggled simply because her big sister did. Before long Mark and Libby were letting themselves in through Kelsey’s front door. The two girls ran with happy squeals to snuggle with their favorite aunt on the couch.

“Hey Kelsey,” Mark said while JayJay clamored onto the couch for Kelsey to read to them. Ah, the innocence of youth. His girls knew their Aunt Kelsey was sad, but their enthusiasm at seeing her overrode her gloom. She gathered them both into her arms with a contented sigh.

Libby joined Shelby in the kitchen.

Zack caught Mark’s eye and nodded toward the back yard, where they could talk out of earshot. “You’re looking tired, ol’ man.”

“Aren’t we all? How’s Shelby working out?”

“Good. Real good.”

For now, she sat chatting with Libby while Kelsey read to Mark’s little girls. She kept a ready supply of children’s books in the end table. JayJay took three-year-old charge of page turning while her baby sister oooh’d at the pretty pictures. Kelsey seemed happy with her arms full, a bittersweet scene. It had to be difficult to hold other’s children the same age her boys were when they died. If it was, her sadness didn’t show. Baby Faith pointed to the brown rabbit on the page and cooed while Kelsey snuggled her close.