Authors: Debra Webb
Tags: #Stephen King, #Kay Hooper, #murder, #Romantic Thriller, #secrets, #small town, #sixth sense, #lies, #twins, #cloning, #Dean Koontz, #FBI
Paul gritted his teeth and banished the voice of the little girl he hadn’t been able to save. He would not hear it.
You’re too late to save her
. He shook off that taunting voice too. He had to focus on here and now.
He pushed off the wall and started to move. Faster, pushing past the panic, tuning out the pain, the weakness from his still healing injuries. Jill needed him. Adrenaline flowed, lending him temporary strength. He’d promised her he’d be right there when she’d wanted to flee Connie’s townhouse. He’d let her down. He’d let that little girl down all those years ago.
But tonight he wasn’t going to let anyone down.
A scream rent the gloomy silence.
Jill
.
Paul ran faster. Ignored the pain searing through his body.
All his senses focused on one goal... protecting Jill.
The tunnel took a hard left. He skidded to a stop around the corner of that ninety-degree angle. Maybe twenty yards from where he stood, a ladder soared upward disappearing into the earth, leading to the escape hatch.
A man, his back turned to Paul, was forcing Jill up the ladder. Her blond hair swayed around her shoulders as she resisted.
Careful to keep his steps silent he moved as quickly as possible toward them.
“Don’t make me have to use this!” the man warned her.
Paul slowed.
Richard?
The voice was Richard Lawton’s.
Son of a...
The bastard had a weapon.
Paul’s heart seemed to screech to a stop.
He eased a few steps closer and assumed a firing stance. “Drop it.”
Richard jerked Jill down and against him and spun toward Paul.
She cried out, her arms stretching out to him. She called his name. His heart lurched back into a frantic rhythm. If Richard had hurt her. Right now Paul didn’t give a damn about the hows or whys. He just wanted Jill away from that son of a bitch.
Richard’s posture stiffened. Obviously, he hadn’t expected to see Paul again.
“Let her go or I swear to God I’ll kill you where you stand.”
“Take one more step and I’ll kill
her
,” Richard threatened, pressing the muzzle to her temple.
A slash of blinding light seared through Paul’s skull. The image of a little girl, being held exactly that way, the muzzle boring into her temple suddenly loomed before his eyes. He shook it off. This wasn’t that child... this wasn’t that cave.
This was Jill.
It would be different this time.
Had to be.
Paul stared down the barrel, zeroed in on his target. “Let her go.”
Richard had the audacity to laugh. “Would you really kill your own father?” He nudged Jill with the weapon. “Tell him who I am.”
She shook her head, refusing to speak.
He wound his fingers in her hair and jerked her head back, grinding the barrel into her flesh. She cried out in pain. Paul’s whole body contracted.
“Tell him!” Richard demanded.
“He says he’s your father,” she sobbed. “He killed the people who raised you, Paul.”
Renewed fury surged through Paul’s veins. “You’re dead.”
Richard just shook his head. “I know all about what happened in that cave, Paul. You told me yourself. You haven’t touched a weapon since you screwed up, have you?”
Paul blinked, but forced back the panic that threatened to climb up his back.
“You had a shot, but you were too afraid of hitting the child, so you didn’t take it.” Richard laughed again. “And that psychopath killed her any way. A very stupid mistake, don’t you agree?”
Paul tightened his grip on his weapon. “I won’t hesitate this time,” he warned. “Now let her go.”
“Are you sure?” Richard asked smugly. “You wouldn’t want to risk hitting the woman who’s carrying your child, now would you?”
Tension jerked through Paul. “You’re lying?”
“Am I lying?”
Jill made a wounded sound as he twisted her hair again. “He’s telling the truth,” she cried.
Emotions battered him as if he’d gotten caught in a hurricane. Agony roared through him and he blocked it, forcing everything inside him to still. He had to focus. Sweat dripped off his brow.
Ignore everything else
.
“Now,” Richard said, taking his silence for surrender. “You put your weapon down on the ground and allow us to leave as planned and I’ll let her live. Give me any trouble and she dies.”
“I love you, Paul,” Jill cried.
Her words shook him. She loved him. She was having his child. Richard was going to take her away. Paul was going to lose again and it was his fault. He was a coward. Two steps behind when it counted. Now, the woman he loved and the child they had created together were at risk and he was helpless.
“Lower you weapon!” Richard shouted, impatient.
Something snapped inside Paul. The tension drained away... the fear... all emotion vanished, bringing that stillness once more. He stared directly at Richard. “Whatever you say.”
That smug smile reappeared. “I knew you’d see reason. After all, we’re from the same stock. Now, lower your weapon slowly.”
Paul moved into a crouch, taking his time, then he lowered his weapon one fraction of an inch at a time. The muzzle of Richard’s weapon moved away from Jill just a fraction.
Paul jerked his weapon into position and pulled the trigger. The explosion echoed through the tunnel.
Time stopped.
Shocked by the unexpected impact, the weapon dropped from Richard’s hand and he grabbed his shoulder. He stared in horror at the blood oozing from beneath his palm.
Jill jerked away from him.
The next shot Paul fired shattered the bastard’s right knee and he crumpled to the floor, screaming and writhing in pain.
“Get his weapon,” Paul managed to shout before he dropped to his knees, no longer able to stand.
Jill grabbed the gun and rushed toward him. She fell to her knees and threw her arms around him. “They told me you were dead.”
“They weren’t off by much but I wasn’t going anywhere without you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then surveyed her for any injuries. “You okay?”
Her lips trembled into a smile. “I am now.”
Ignoring Lawton’s screams of agony, they leaned on each other and walked away.
Epilogue
One year later…
Jill peered down at her sleeping son and smiled. His dark hair was stark against the white ruffles of the bassinet. He was perfect. Fingers, toes and nose. Perfect and absolutely beautiful. Only three months old and already he owned the heart of every female they knew.
Like father, like son.
Speaking of father. She moved to the front window and watched Paul frolicking in the yard. He tossed the ball and Cody chased it, squealing in delight, the puppy right on his heels.
Skipper, the buff colored Labrador was barely five months old, Paul Junior’s first gift from his father, and already he was huge. But he was wonderful with the children, affectionate and gentle.
Jill looked out over the lovely landscape of their new home. They’d moved to Maine eight months ago. Privacy was the first requirement. Rural Maine definitely provided that. The setting was small town, though a larger city wasn’t so far away.
Best of all, no one from their old lives knew they were here. Well, no one except Tom Cuddahy. Paul stayed in touch with him to get updates on the MedTech and LifeCycle situation. The criminal investigations were drawing to a close and trials would begin soon. Both corporations had been dismantled. All files and financial assets, at least all those found, seized by the federal government.
With her mother’s death there was no one left in Paradise. Home was here now. Though she did occasionally think of Willa Dean and the few villagers who had managed to survive the fire. Jill had sold her childhood home and donated the proceeds to helping the villagers rebuild. It was the least she could do after what they had sacrificed for her family.
She moved to another window and watched Kate digging in the flowerbeds. Her sister did love her flowers. It was good therapy and it made her feel a sense of accomplishment. Kate was doing fine now. Whatever they’d done to her during that week she and Jill were imprisoned at MedTech, it had worked, brought her almost all the way back to her old self.
The idea that it could happen again and that no one would know what to do still worried Jill, but she tried not to dwell on it. Every week there was more news about some failure with the cloned animals in different parts of the world. Shortened life spans, accelerated aging, rare diseases. Jill avoided those programs as often as possible. She didn’t want to live dreading the future. She wanted to live each day God had blessed her with to its fullest with no fear of what tomorrow held. Kate felt the same way.
A closed session of Congress had decided it would be best not to reveal to the public the full extent of MedTech’s and LifeCycle’s work for the protection of the victims. Those like Kate and Cody, who were clones, would never be revealed as anything other than normal humans. The remains of dozens of failed experiments had been properly buried. Even now she shuddered to think of all the children who had been sacrificed in the name of an unholy science. Agent Cuddahy had ensured the remains Chief Dotson had attempted to pass off as Cody were recovered and given an appropriate burial as well.
For now, no one outside the investigation would know the evil done in Paradise. The world would continue to believe that those things only happened in the movies or in a book.
Cody, the ball clutched to his chest, ran toward his mother. Kate opened her arms to him. Paul knelt down and scratched Skipper behind the ears. He saw Jill in the window and waved, that charming smile that lingered about his mouth more often than not these days spanning the distance between them and warming her heart.
Their life was peaceful and good.
A frown tugged at her brow. The FBI had rounded up and was in the process of prosecuting to the fullest extent of the law those involved with MedTech and LifeCycle. Senator Wade had turned state’s evidence and ratted on all his pals. Unable to stand the pressure, Mayor Hammersly had committed suicide the night after Paul rescued Jill from that dark tunnel. Richard Lawton was claiming innocence and would, knowing his legal cunning, probably find a way to get off scot-free.
Everyone had been accounted for except one man.
Jill’s mother had said there were three, one American, two Europeans, who came to Paradise all those years ago. At least she thought they were European, German or Austrian she believed. Richard was the American, of course, and had referred to the other two as the Manning brothers. One had died a few years back but the other one had simply vanished. Every time Jill thought of him, a chill skittered up her spine. Was he dead by now? If not, was he off in some other city, American or otherwise, working his gruesome creation experiments?
God, she hoped not.
She moved back to the bassinet and smiled down at her precious child... her
gift
.
Some things just weren’t meant to be tampered with.
No man should try to play God.
And though her life was as perfect as human life could be with all its limitations and trials, until that last man was found, Jill would always be looking over her shoulder.
And waiting...
...for the other shoe to drop.
“There are no judges,
only avengers.”
Josef Mengele
The Angel of Death
A note from the author:
From 1982 – 1985 my husband and I were stationed with the United States military in Berlin, Germany. During that time I came to understand the horrors of all who suffered through the cruel reign of Adolf Hitler. Hitler’s desire for brutal domination and the development of a master race is a heinous chapter in mankind’s history. As ugly as that chapter is, we should never forget the evil that men can do lest we doom ourselves to repeat those same mistakes.
About the Author
DEBRA WEBB, born in Alabama, wrote her first story at age nine and her first romance at thirteen. It wasn’t until she spent three years working for the military behind the Iron Curtain—and a five-year stint with NASA—that she realized her true calling. A collision course between suspense and romance was set. Since then she has penned nearly 100 novels including her internationally bestselling Colby Agency series. Her debut novel, OBSESSION, in her romantic thriller series, the Faces of Evil, propelled Debra to the top of the bestselling charts for an unparalleled twenty-four weeks and garnered critical acclaim from reviewers and readers alike. Don’t miss a single installment of this fascinating and chilling twelve-book series!
Order REVENGE and RUTHLESS now!
Visit Debra at
www.thefacesofevil.com
or at
www.debrawebb.com
. You can write to Debra at PO Box 12485, Huntsville, AL, 35815.
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