Darker Than Desire by Shiloh Walker

as you need to,” David said. “Not if you want me to believe them. I grew up on lies and I’ve survived on them for longer than you can imagine.”
    â€œHow long is that, David?” he asked.
    â€œAll my life.” He moved now, taking one step away from Max’s bed. “You want to push at me, do it. I can handle it. You got questions you want to ask Max about Miss Mary or the day he was shot? I can’t stop you. But don’t come hammering at him. He’s got nothing that will help you.”
    â€œI’m afraid you don’t get to dictate how I do my job there, son.” He looked past David then, met Max’s tired blue eyes. “I’m sorry if I brought…” any inconvenience? This was more than that. Unhappiness? That didn’t touch it. Floundering for a word, he finally said, “I’m sorry for this. But I’ve got crimes to solve, some of them going back for twenty or more years, and I can’t do it without asking questions. Feelings will be bruised when I’m done, but there are dark, ugly secrets and they need to be exposed, and the criminals need to be brought before a court of law.”
    David turned away. “Too bad you’re too late for the worst of them. That would be my father and his lackeys. Too bad you didn’t come along in time to get them.”
    â€œThey can get theirs in hell,” Max murmured. “The devil can torture them from now until eternity.”
    A humorless laugh escaped David. “Hell is here on earth, Max. The devil? He was every man who took a child into that room.”
    Then he looked back at Sorenson, and for a minute the cop was left to wonder if maybe David wasn’t right. Maybe hell was here on earth, and maybe the devil did dwell inside men—perhaps even inside the man standing across the room from him.

 
    CHAPTER THREE
    â€œNo visitors,” Max said again to the nurse David had hunted down.
    Melanie Hawkins nodded. “Got it, Judge Max. It’s noted in the book, I’ve got a sign up and you’re right by the desk, so I’ll be keeping an eye out myself.” She paused and then asked, “Are you okay?”
    Max didn’t respond, just shifted around in the bed. After a minute, he said, “Tell that damn doctor I can’t sleep. I want something so I can sleep. Every time I close my eyes…”
    He didn’t finish his sentence, but David imagined he knew the problem. He’d close his eyes and see Mary. Lifeless. Gone. Everything he’d lived for.
    Within another minute, Melanie was gone and David moved to stand by the bed, pulling a chair up so Max could see him.
    â€œYou got any idea how many are left?” David studied him.
    Max flicked a look at him. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    â€œDon’t give me that, Max.”
    â€œYou know, for once in your life, wouldn’t hurt you to call me Grandpa.”
    Sighing, David bowed his head, hair falling to shield his eyes. Slowly, he reached up and caught one of Max’s hands in his, squeezed. “I don’t know if you really want that. I think of family and I think ugly things. I don’t have that connection with you.” Breaking the contact, he looked away. “I wish I could tell you the sort of things a man should be able to say to his grandfather. I do owe you; I know that—”
    â€œThe fuck you do.” The words ripped out of Max, ugly and full of poison. “You don’t owe me shit. I never should have—”
    â€œPlease don’t. You didn’t know.” Because David did wish he could give the man something, he decided to give what little he could. Rising, he made his way to the window. “Back before things got bad, I used to dream, you know. My father’s parents were dead. Mother never spoke of hers. Now I know why. But kids would talk about their grandparents and sometimes, I’d make