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Back Blood in the Water Save as PDF
Chapters (82)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. FIFTY-FIVE
  59. FIFTY-SIX
  60. FIFTY-SEVEN
  61. FIFTY-EIGHT
  62. FIFTY-NINE
  63. SIXTY
  64. SIXTY-ONE
  65. SIXTY-TWO
  66. SIXTY-THREE
  67. SIXTY-FOUR
  68. SIXTY-FIVE
  69. SIXTY-SIX
  70. SIXTY-SEVEN
  71. SIXTY-EIGHT
  72. SIXTY-NINE
  73. SEVENTY
  74. SEVENTY-ONE
  75. SEVENTY-TWO
  76. SEVENTY-THREE
  77. SEVENTY-FOUR
  78. SEVENTY-FIVE
  79. SEVENTY-SIX
  80. Praise for Blood in the Water
  81. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  82. Newsletter Sign-up

He pushed his chair back from the desk and stood unsteadily on his deformed leg and made his way over to the log that contained the schedule of union workers for the day. He brought the ledger over and scanned it for the contact numbers. He found the information he needed, picked up the receiver. He took a deep breath, and dialed the first number.

TWENTY-THREE

Diamond could hear the footsteps behind her as she hurried along West Third Street, away from the Naked Eye. He was gaining ground on her, still twenty yards back but getting closer. Then fifteen yards, maybe less. “Wait!” the voice called. “Slow down!”

She had to find a place where she wouldn’t be seen.

She saw it a moment later: a narrow alley off to the right, no more than five or six feet wide, cluttered with unwanted bedframes and discarded plastic chairs. “Stop!” the voice behind her called. She knew it was her only chance, and as she drew even with the alley, she darted to her right, through the gap, squeezing around a stack of trash cans and an old recliner that had lost an arm.

The alley seemed to go on forever—a deep obstacle course built of unwanted odds and ends; a grown-up, blue-collar version of the Island of Misfit Toys. She climbed through and around and over it all, moving quickly as she heard cursing behind her.

At last she came to a recessed doorway, partially hidden by a stained mattress, and she ducked into the cramped space. She tried the door, but it was locked, so she flattened herself against the cold steel and waited. Out of the wind the cold bit less, but small puffs of steam still drifted from her nostrils as she tried to control her heartbeat and her breathing. It was no use, she knew. She was sure that the world could hear the pounding in her chest as she waited there, helpless.

She heard the footsteps approaching; heard the breathing; felt the presence. And then she saw him passing the mattress. It was the young man from the strip club. He was looking the other way, confused and lost. It was her chance.

She sprang from the doorway, launching herself across the narrow space at him. She hit him hard, and he tumbled into the brick wall. He let out a light cry of surprise, and she pressed the attack, grabbing him by his jacket, pushing him up against the wall, keeping her weight against him. Her advantage wouldn’t last long; she could feel the solid build under the jacket, and there was no question that he would recover his senses quickly. But for the moment, he was rubbing his head and getting his bearings.