Walk in Darkness - A Thriller (Jon Stanton Mysteries) by Victor Methos

a team here and I want to take part in it. I’ll make more of an effort.”
    He slapped his arm. “All right then.”
    “Alright.”
    After the coach had left Calvin rose and finished the rest of his drink in a few gulps. He threw the protein bar away, grabbed his gym bag, and left.
    Darkness had descended and the moon was out, a bright glowing orb in a black sky. He took Loma Boulevard down to Ocean Beach Park and found a relatively secluded area. He parked and took his shoes off.
    The sand was still warm from the sun and he stood still a long time and buried his toes underneath. Then he walked over to the edge of the water and sat down, just far enough away that the waves crackled and broke in front of him and tickled the tips of his toes before being drug back to sea.
    He loved the ocean at night, the way the moon lit up the surface. He would go out surfing late, at two or three in the morning when everyone else had gone home, and jump into the white surface, lay flat on his back, and stare at the moon.
    An odd sense of nostalgia went through him; the moon had been full the night he had killed his grandparents. He wondered if the moon had anything to do with that. He was only eleven at the time when he’d shot them both in the head while they were sleeping. Afterward he’d went and sat on the porch and waited for his mother to get home. He remembered the sense of calm clearly. The porch had been cold; they had been living in Minnesota at the time, but he didn’t wear a coat and regretted it. It took his mother nearly three years and thousands of dollars to seal his juvenile record. His mother was always fighting for him to have a normal life. They had moved out here to get a fresh start.
    His mother.
    He checked his watch: 11 P.M. Calvin jumped to his feet and ran back to his car, starting the engine before he even had his seatbelt on. He peeled out in reverse and then shot forward, taking Loma back to the San Diego Freeway. The streets were clear except for the occasional drunk weaving in and out of the lanes in front of him. He would shoot past them and then cut them off, seeing if they were drunk enough to crash, but none of them were. The true drunks were passed out by this hour.
    He got off the freeway at Laredo Drive and it only took him another ten minutes to get home. The house was large, far larger than someone on his parents’ income should have had. It had been inherited by his grandfather and after his death went to his mother.
    He parked and sat in the car, the night quiet around him. He saw his mother peeking through the curtains in the window and his two little brothers were sitting at the dining room table. She had done this before; keeping the whole family up when he stayed out too late. His father was the only one that wouldn’t stay up. Calvin took a deep breath and opened the door.
    The night was cool and the freeway and main road were far enough away that he couldn’t hear the traffic. All he could hear was the buzz of an airplane flying overhead and then disappearing. His heart was beating fast in his chest and he wanted to stall but this was something that grew worse the more he put it off.
    He walked to the front door and went inside. The kitchen light was on and he stood just outside the linoleum. His mother was standing over the stove cooking soup.
    “Where were you so late?” she said , not looking up from her pot.
    “At the gym.”
    “That gym closes at ten.”
    “I went to the beach and lost track of time. I’m sorry, mama.”
    “You’re sorry?” she said, her voice a pitch higher. “You’re sorry? Your poor brothers have been here without food for hours and you’re sorry?”
    “I never said not to eat when I wasn’t here, mama.”
    She stood silently a moment before turning back to her pot. Calvin relaxed and thought it was over.
    He turned to leave and then felt the scalding heat of the soup over his head. It burned his eyes and the soft skin on his neck and he screamed