If you read Shadow of the Drill, then you are familiar with the character of Davis. Decker’s investigator, he collects information, follows leads to ensure that they are valid, and keeps his ear to the streets. He prefers to keep his hands clean, so he does not usually participate in the more violent aspects of Decker’s work.
However, he has reason to rethink this when Decker’s most recent nemesis, Duncan Malone, strikes a little too close to home.
The following is an excerpt from my upcoming novel, Winter of the Drill. I hope you enjoy it.
Davis’ eyes clouded as he replayed the scene in his mind. The two dancers, huddled together and sobbing hysterically. The car, nose down and slowly settling in the muddy water. And Rudy, frantically diving again and again, surfacing just long enough to grab a quick breath before going back down to rescue a girl who was surely past any help that he could give. He had no light, and a crunched door that would not open hampered his efforts, but he continued to try.
Holding his chin above the murky water, Davis had paddled out to the submerged vehicle, catching Rudy by the arm and trying to bring him back to shore. The stronger swimmer, Rudy had pulled away and gone back to the car, clutching a large rock that he had been using to pound the window glass.
Davis remained where he was, knowing that the younger man was tiring and would probably need his help when he came up for air.
You did your best, he thought with a melancholy sigh. She’s in God’s hands, now.
It was not long before Rudy broke the surface, gasping as he filled his lungs for another journey downward.
“That’s enough,” Davis muttered. Rudy had done all that he could possibly do, and he was going to have to accept it. To continue on would risk his own safety, and Davis would not allow that.
“Let go!” Rudy ordered when Davis grabbed a wrist and reeled him in. He beat at a soggy sleeve with his free hand, but Davis held firm, refusing to release him until he had half-carried, half-dragged his struggling burden up onto the roadside.
“Listen to me!” He shouted the words, grabbing Rudy’s other wrist. “It’s done, do you hear me? It’s done!”
Blood dripped onto his hand, and he shook his head sadly when he saw how the rock had ripped into Rudy’s fingers and palm. Rudy raised his head, his haunted eyes staring back at the pond. Davis pulled him close, holding him while he sobbed in heart-rending agony.
Malone, Davis thought. It had to be Malone. Of course, knowing and proving were two very different things, but that was where Decker’s inner circle came in. They would find the truth and handle things accordingly. But this time,Davis decided, they would have some extra help when the crap hit the fan.
The thought brought with it a momentary chill, for with very few exceptions, the fastidious investigator avoided that part of Decker’s business. But, as he knelt in the dirt with his arms around the man who was the closest he had to a friend, he decided that this time he would not stay away. This time would be different. This time, it was personal.
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Thanks so much for stopping by on this beautiful Sunday, and taking a look into Winter of the Drill. Please leave a comment and tell me what you think. 😀
I plan to be back on Wednesday, with another great recipe for you to try.
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Shadow of the Drill
Born of Circumstance, Bred for Revenge.
A Perilous Thirst
A different kind of vampire story.
One Dyke Cozy
“HAVE A NICE DAY”
Twitter: @rhanidchae @rhanidchaaebooks