Authors: Stephanie Bond
get rid of you early on, but you’re like a damn cat with
nine lives.”
She tried to calculate which life she was on, then gave up
in lieu of screaming again. “Help me! Help me, he has a
knife! He’s going to kil me!”
“You’re right,” he said, then glanced at his watch. “I have
to be back to the morgue soon. I’m thinking about calling
Coop to pick up your body, what do you think? Or maybe
your brother.”
She lunged for the doorway, but he body-slammed her
against the wall and held the knife to her throat.
“I’l even do your autopsy myself,” he whispered. “I’l get
to touch every inch of your body, and cut you up, inside
and out, any way I want to.”
Tears slid down her cheeks. “Don’t…please…let me go.”
“Nope. You’re going to be the random victim of a random
crime in a questionable neighborhood. Your death
probably won’t even make the newspaper. Goodbye,
Carlotta.”
Suddenly the front door burst open and a man barreled
inside, startling Abrams enough that he loosened his grip
on her. Carlotta tore away, but felt a stinging slice to her
shoulder. A shot rang out, and she heard the thud of a
body fall. When she swung around, Abrams lay on the
floor, clutching his bloody groin.
“Ja—” Carlotta looked up, but stopped short when she
saw the shooter wasn’t Jack.
She blinked, not trusting her eyes, stil disoriented from
the blow. But when the man didn’t disappear or morph
into anyone else, she tested the word on her tongue.
“Daddy?”
34
Stil tall and stil handsome, Randolph Wren gave her a
shaky smile. “Hi, Sweetheart.”
“Where…how…?” She couldn’t find the words.
“I told you I was keeping tabs on you and Wesley. I tried to
do little things to help…like taking care of those fire ants.”
“The listening device?”
He gestured to her shoulder and walked closer. “You’re
bleeding.” He shoved his gun down in the waistband of his
jeans and walked to the kitchen. He came back with a
towel and pressed it gently against the wound. “Can you
hold it?”
She nodded, drinking in the sight of him. She scanned his
face, every feature, again and again, half thril ed, half
terrified. It was surreal, having him close enough to touch.
“You should sit down,” he said, leading her to a chair.
“Freeze.”
Carlotta looked up to see Jack’s broad shoulders
silhouetted in the open door. He had a gun trained on
Randolph. “Place your hands on your head and get on your
knees.”
“Jack—” she protested.
“Do it!” he shouted.
Randolph obeyed.
“Slowly, place the weapon on the floor,” Jack said.
Randolph did, wordlessly.
Jack pul ed out his radio and gave the address. “I need a
bus, and I need backup.” He replaced the radio. “Carlotta,
are you okay?”
“She’s bleeding,” Randolph said. “That man stabbed her.”
“Shut up,” Jack said. “Carlotta?”
“I’m bleeding, but I don’t think it’s serious.” She looked
down at Abrams, who was either dead or had passed out.
“He framed Coop, Jack. He admitted everything to me.”
Jack nodded as the sound of sirens rent the air. “I know. I
traced the bomb parts to Abrams, too.”
So that’s what Abrams had meant when he said he’d tried
to get rid of her. “How did you know I was here?”
“Peter told me you were stopping by on the way to the
airport. I took a chance.”
He took a chance…“Dr. Abrams kil ed all those women,”
she said, tears sliding down her cheeks.
“We’ll sort it out later, darlin’,” Jack soothed. He pul ed
handcuffs from his belt. “Get on your feet,” he said to
Randolph. “And turn around.”
Randolph did as he was ordered, but with a little smile.
“Do you know who I am?”
Jack holstered his weapon. “I should, you son of a bitch.
I’ve looked at your photo enough in the criminal file that
I’ve memorized.” Jack snapped on the handcuffs.
“Randolph Wren, you’re under arrest. You have the right
to remain silent. Anything you say can and wil be used
against you in a court of law in which I wil be in the front
row. You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t afford
an attorney, one wil be appointed for you. Do you
understand these rights?”
“Yes,” Randolph said, darting a look to Carlotta as Jack led
him toward the door.
She lunged to her feet, but she was light-headed and had
to lean into the wall for support. “Jack, he saved my life.”
“He’s stil a criminal.”
“Don’t take him yet,” she pleaded.
“I have to,” Jack said, leveling his gaze on her. “Don’t make
this harder than it already is.”
Carlotta stumbled to the door and caught herself to keep
from fainting. She watched Jack lead Randolph to the
police car and realized that her life had been leading up to
this moment all along. She’d always known that Jack
would be the one taking her father into custody.
“Daddy!” she yel ed, feeling as if her heart was being
wrenched out of her body.
Randolph turned and gave her a bittersweet smile. “Come
and see me, Sweetheart. We have a lot to talk about.”