The Dying Game

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Authors: Beverly Barton
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective
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late, Griff barely managed to stop himself from grasping Nic’s arm again and rushing her into the intensive care unit. But as it turned out, he didn’t need to. Nic all but ran through the waiting area, urging Nurse Huff to keep up with her.
       
    In less than an hour, it would be dark. The days were getting a bit longer in mid-February, but with an overcast sky, night would fall early today. Lindsay was thankful that it wasn’t raining or snowing, although either was a possibility before morning. They had driven straight from the Walker hunting lodge, not stopping for lunch, and were now almost to the Kentucky state line. Highway 127 would take them straight through Monticello and with only one turn onto a county road, they’d be in Williamstown no later than six o’clock this evening.
    “I’ll have to stop soon and get gas,” Lindsay said to the somber man sitting rigidly in the passenger seat. “I’m going to pick up a burger and a Coke after I use the restroom.”
    “Stop at a mini-mart,” Judd said. “I’ll pump the gas. You go in and get the food. We can eat on the way.”
    “Sure. That suits me.”
    “Griff will call if the woman dies, won’t he?”
    Lindsay gripped the steering wheel tightly. “He’ll call if he has any news—good or bad.”
    “Hmm …”
    In the three hours they had been on the road, neither had spoken more than a few words now and then, maintaining a palpable silence, as tangible as the heavy fog that lay ahead. Damn! That’s all they needed, a thick fog slowing their progress.
    “By the way, how is Griffin these days?” Judd asked.
    Totally surprised by the question, Lindsay snapped her head around and stared at Judd.
    “Keep your eyes on the road,” he told her.
    She refocused on the highway. “Why are you asking about Griff? You don’t really care, do you?”
    “Griff’s an old friend. Why shouldn’t I ask about him?”
    “Griff’s Griff,” she said. “He’s fine.”
    “You two having sex yet?”
    Lindsay clenched her teeth. So that’s what it’s all about— Judd just wanted to needle her.
    “That’s none of your business,” she said.
    “I could give him a few pointers, if you want me to. I could tell him what you like, what turns you on, what—”
    “You can shut the hell up!”
    Judd chuckled. A mirthless, cold chills-up-the-spine laugh.
    “You’re a real bastard, you know that, don’t you.”
    “What’s the matter, darlin’? Haven’t you told Griff about us?”
    “There is no us.”
    “There almost was. You were willing.”
    She’d been willing all right. God help her, she’d been more than willing. She’d been eager. She had fallen in love with Judd in those first few months after his wife’s murder when she and her CPD partner Dan Blake had seen Judd on a regular basis. Dan had tried to warn her not to become personally involved. If only she had been able to take his advice. But ever since she’d been a kid, she had been the one who brought home stray dogs and cats, nursed wounded birds, and stood up to bullies in defense of those they harassed.
    Her father had told her that she had a tender heart, just like her mother. She couldn’t bear to see anyone—human or animal—in pain.
    And Judd Walker had been in torment. Day by day she had watched him as he mourned his wife, as he became more and more withdrawn, as the anger—the pure rage—inside him had devoured him.
    Her heart had ached for him. Her stupid bleeding heart.
    “You’re awfully quiet,” Judd said. “Thinking about that night?”
    “No,” she replied truthfully. “I was actually thinking about those first few months after Jennifer was murdered, and Dan and I worked so hard to try to find her killer.”
    “And here we are nearly four years and numerous beauty queen murders later, and Jenny’s killer is still out there chopping off hands and feet, arms and legs, slitting throats… destroying lives.”
    “He’ll be caught and punished,” Lindsay said.

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