Page 136 of D for Dead

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Amy agreed to meet with Pastor Ralph shortly after Rebecca and Hickok had left.

Vic wasn’t sure if she was doing it because she genuinely wanted to talk to someone after her gruelling from his colleagues or if it was just to shut him up. He had brought up the subject when he’d arrived that morning and gotten not much more than a non-committal grunt. Hickok’s accusation had shaken her and, after mooching around her apartment for a while, she asked Vic if he could set up a meet.

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he embraced the opportunity with both hands, eager to get Amy across to the church before she changed her mind, and was straight on the phone to Pastor Ralph.

The pastor already knew he was playing bodyguard to a pretty lady and keeping her safe from a serial killer and Vic had told him that he thought it would help Amy to have someone to talk things over with. So when the pastor took the call he was already prepared and suggested Vic bring Amy to the church late afternoon.

Amy made them lunch, still a little sulky about Hickok and Rebecca’s accusation, then went to get changed. Vic understood why she was pissed off. She didn’t strike him as the type to tell lies and from spending time with her over the past week he knew she had been genuinely shook up after learning the truth about her nightmare.

He had half-listened to the discussion, understanding Amy’s ex-boyfriend and this Tucker Johnson guy were suspected of being behind the murders. He also understood why Rebecca and Hickok thought Amy had known, but they had to be wrong. There had to be another explanation.

He was waiting on the couch for her and groaned in dismay when she emerged from her bedroom and whistled for the dog.

‘We’re going to see the pastor. He doesn’t need to come. I don’t even think they let dogs in churches.’

Huckleberry was already on his feet and running to Amy who had hold of his leash.

‘He hates being cooped up in the apartment by himself.’ She smiled at Vic in an attempt to win him over. It looked a little forced and he could tell beneath it she was still peed off. ‘I figured you could walk him while I speak with the pastor.’

‘Can’t we take him out later? My car is already covered in dog hairs.’

‘He’ll be fine and he doesn’t shed that much hair. Your car will be fine too.’ Amy clipped the leash on Huckleberry, headed over to the door. ‘Come on. Don’t want to keep your pastor friend waiting.’

Although he knew he was fighting a losing battle, Vic still grumbled all the way down to the car, and on the ride out to the church he kept one eye on the rear-view mirror, making sure Huckleberry was behaving himself.

Pastor Ralph was waiting for them and Vic made the introductions before leaving him and Amy alone. The pastor gave him a cookie from the tin Mrs Michaels had made fresh that morning and Vic nibbled on it as he made his way back to the car, while Huckleberry danced around him, whining for a piece.

‘No way, buddy. These are too good to waste on an idiot dog.’

As Vic finished the cookie and wiped his fingers on his jeans, Huckleberry let out a frustrated sigh.

Damn dog was trying to put him on a guilt trip now.

Still irritated he’d been made to bring him along, Vic walked him up and down the parking lot a couple of times before deciding they would both wait in the car. He let Huckleberry in the back, climbed in the driver’s seat and got himself comfortable, cranking the window open a couple of inches and retrieving his newspaper from the glovebox.

While he was pleased Amy had agreed to talk with Pastor Ralph and trusted the pastor was saying lots of good things about what a stand-up guy he was, he hoped they wouldn’t be inside too long. Waiting around with just Huckleberry for company was dull. Even visiting Heidi Pearce had to rank higher than this for excitement.

He glanced around the parking lot, noted that aside from his car, there were two other vehicles. He recognised Pastor Ralph’s Buick, the other vehicle was a dark van parked at the far end of the parking lot. Vic couldn’t remember seeing it there when they had arrived, so guessed it had showed up while they’d both been talking to the pastor. It probably belonged to one of the two caretakers the church employed. Vic often saw them wandering around the grounds.

He opened up his paper and decided to open the door too. It was another warm day and the stillness in the air threatened a storm on the way. It was about time. Vic couldn’t remember the last time they’d had this kind of heatwave.

He read the sports pages of the paper, ignoring Huckleberry’s periodic whines, then tuned into the radio, found the country station he liked, rolled back his seat and closed his eyes. Comfortable and relaxed, with the sun burning through the glass and Tim McGraw singing about the stars going blue, he started to drift.

He was jolted awake a minute later by the sound of Huckleberry’s bark, which was followed by a low guttural growl.

‘Damn, Huckleberry, what the…’

He stopped, catching sight of the figure approaching in the rear-view mirror. Although he couldn’t make out the features, he knew it wasn’t Amy or Pastor Ralph. The figure wore dark clothing and held something that glinted in the sunlight.

A knife.

As carefully as possible, Vic reached for his sidearm. He almost had it out of the holster, when he saw the shadow fall over him. Realising there wasn’t time, he knocked his elbow back into the figure, using the element of surprise, heard the satisfying whoosh as bone connected with the soft flesh of belly and his assailant lost his breath, dropping to his knees.

Vic turned, took a look at the man who had tried to attack him, immediately recognising him.

‘It’s you.’