Whistler's Angel by John R. Maxim

Author:John R. Maxim
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Thriller
ISBN: 0380975459
Publisher: Avon Books
Published: 2001-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY ONE

Joshua Crow, as Sergeant Moore had predicted, had found an unoccupied house in which to rest until he could gather his thoughts. He had made his selection within an hour of the shooting. It was in an older section called North Forest Beach, a non-gated, non-guarded community. Quite a few of the houses there were dark.

The one he had chosen seemed ordinary enough. Not likely to attract any notice. The street that led to it was rutted, unpaved, and this house in particular seemed weathered, neglected. This was all to the good, Crow decided.

There were other small houses on either side, but a fence blocked the view of the neighbor to the right and a wall of bamboo shielded this one from the other. Best of all, this house had a two-car garage. Its neighbors only had carports.

Perhaps he would find another vehicle inside, but at least there should be room for the van. He broke into the garage through a window at its side, and disabled the electric door opener. He raised the door by hand and brought the van inside. He closed the door behind it, then allowed himself a scream. He screamed, then held his breath until he thought his lungs would burst. He bit into the pad of his thumb. He started humming. The humming always calmed him. It brought him good thoughts. It helped him to remember that the Lord’s work had been done. Philip Ragland was in hell where he belonged.

There was no other car, but there was a boat of sorts. It was covered by a blue plastic tarp. Crow stripped the tarp off and let it slide to the floor. The boat was one of those little wave runner things and it sat on a miniature trailer. He knew nothing about them, but he’d seen children using them, so they couldn’t be too difficult to operate. A last resort, surely, but it might be an option if he had to slip away over water.

He broke into the house through the door from the garage. Once inside, he flipped a wall switch to make sure that there was power. There was, but he would keep the house dark. He went back to the van and unloaded its contents, first stacking the bikes to one side. He brought in his duffel, his shotgun, his scanner, and some of the luggage that had come with the van. The van’s owner was roughly his own size and shape. Somewhat taller, but his clothing would fit well enough. There were two sets of golf clubs. He brought one set inside and then wondered why he’d done that. He didn’t like golf clubs. He didn’t like golfers. The game was surely an invention of Satan, devised to keep Christians from going to church. He found the First Aid kit. All these vans seemed to have them. He brought it into the house with the groceries.

In the darkened kitchen he used a small flashlight to find an electrical outlet.

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