A Killer's Agenda (33 page)

inside, avoiding the inclement weather. She wasn’t happy with the fact that she had been less than diligent in the last few minutes.

Wasn’t happy that she had allowed her guard down, no matter how involved she was emotionally. Her instincts were telling her Ferron had to be somewhere near. His ego and need for self preservation wouldn’t allow anything else.

Deciding to risk edging closer to the street, she locked the car and pocketed the keys. The damp leaves gave up a smell that was pure fall as she kicked them aside. Her hand roamed to the small pistol she had in her coat pocket. She had a very strong feeling that she would have to use it before the day was over. Trying to keep behind the trees and out of sight, she slowly moved forward.

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A car backed out of a driveway and she stopped, shouldering

up to a big oak and waited until it drove the opposite way.

Relaxing, she straightened and then tensed once again, sensing the danger moments before she felt the gun pressed against her neck. Heart pounding and cursing her stupidity, she turned, not surprised to look up into Russell Ferron’s cold gaze. Into the same blue eyes that his son had inherited.

“Surprise, surprise,” he sneered, lifting a brow mockingly,

“what do you know, the sexy private investigator.”

She settled her green eyes mockingly on his, fire spitting from them despite her fear. “What do you know,” she mimicked, “the cold-blooded killer.”

The sneer disappeared, replaced by fury. He grabbed her hair and jerked hard, dragging her against his chest. “I can’t believe you thought I would be stupid enough to fall for that ploy of yours. I’m not as moronic as…”

“Matt Fowler,” she finished, feeling a small sense of satisfaction at the way his expression tightened. He had her pinned against him so, instead of struggling, she concentrated on the hand wound painfully in her hair. Concentrated on reversing that pain.

He growled a curse and let go of her, shaking his arm, a flicker of discomfort scrolling across his face before it was masked.

“Listen, lady, I don’t have the time or the inclination to stand in this damn rain and toss words back and forth. Give me those disks and I’ll simply leave you and your lover alone.”

She didn’t dare reach for her gun. “I don’t have them and even if I did, I wouldn’t give them to you,” she said calmly.

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He cocked his gun, the ice in his eyes deepening. “Unless you want to see Norton dead, I suggest you change your tone. I’d rather enjoy putting him down.”

Anger replaced the fear as she straightened, taking a step

forward, startling him into moving backward in reaction. “Those disks are on their way to the authorities, Russell. What’s even better is that there’s enough evidence in them to put you away for a long time. A very, very long time.”

His face darkened as she held her breath, hoping he would buy her bluff. Her heart sank when he shook his head. “Good try, lady.

You wouldn’t be sitting here playing stakeout cop if that were true.

The kid couldn’t get anyone to believe him and that hasn’t

changed. I made sure of it.”

Alex laughed derisively. “Funny. If you believe that, then why are we standing in the rain across from your dead son’s house?

Maybe you’re not as confident as you think you are.”

He shrugged. “I don’t leave loose ends. Never have and never will.”

“And I don’t let murderers go free. Never have and never will,”

she shot back.

His eyes narrowed to slits as he raised the gun again,

annoyance playing across his face before he snorted a laugh.

“You’ve got some guts, I’ll give you that.” He gaze slid up and down her body lewdly. “Now let’s take a walk across the street and have a nice little talk with your lover and my old mistress. If you don’t have those CDs, then Wendy has to.” He grabbed her arm and

spun her around, shoving her forward. She had no choice but to do what he demanded.

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Alex, how could you have been so stupid! Any other case, any other investigation, you would have been more alert, known there was a possibility your plan wouldn’t have worked, prepared a back up scenario. Stupid! Stupid!

As they emerged from the clearing, Ferron’s gun pressing

painfully into her side, her gaze slid from left to right hoping for a diversion, anything to warn the people inside that house. Other than blowing leaves and the chill in the rain falling, there was nothing. She could read the murderous intent in his mind as he walked beside her. There was no question once they were inside that house, those disks in his possession, he intended to eliminate all of them, neatly and quickly. He actually believed that he could get away with multiple murders. After all, he had for years now.

She stilled a dart of fear as she glanced covertly up at him.

Underneath that suave exterior beat the heart of a sociopath.

Worst part was, unless she managed to do something, there was a good chance he would get away with homicide once again. She let her mind connect with his, hoping to pull anything she could from him to stop what he was about to do. She shifted through his thoughts, shuddering as she sensed his lack of emotion, the

insanity that he hid so very well. She focused harder and then smiled triumphantly.

“That alibi you concocted isn’t going to work, you know,” she said, slowing deliberately as she glanced up at him.

“Keep moving,” he ordered, nudging her forward with the gun

against her back. “You’re a cool one, I have to admit. It’s a shame I’m in hurry,” he sneered, running a finger along her cheek and down her neck suggestively. “And what alibi might that be?”

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“You really should have resisted the urge to flirt with the

blonde at the car rental agency, Russell,” she said derisively, fighting not to recoil at his touch. “She wasn’t as ditzy as she looked. You’ve made passes at her before and she recognized you.

Only not with the name you showed her on your identification. She put the right name with the face and went to her boss who went to the authorities. It’s only a matter of time until they find you and when they do you’ll have some very interesting questions to

answer.”

His hand fell away from her and she saw the brief flicker of fear that ran across his face. “You’re bluffing. It won’t work. Keep moving.”

She shrugged, stepping onto the curb in front of the house.

Purposely catching her foot on its edge, she tripped, letting all her weight fall forward. Instantly, she felt herself yanked backward, her head jerking as he slapped her face.

“Do that again and I’ll use my gun instead of my hand,” he

snarled.

She put a hand to her bleeding lip, incensed, raising furious eyes to his. “Touch me again and you’ll have to,” she spat back.

She suddenly stilled, her mind connecting with someone inside the house. Ignoring Ferron, she closed her eyes briefly sending a telepathic warning, concentrating as her sister had taught her. She only hoped it would be enough.

“Move!” Russell growled shoving her. When she opened her

eyes, she caught the unease in his expression along with a quick flicker of fear.

“What’s the matter, Russell. Do I make you uncomfortable?

Good. There are things I see, I know, that I shouldn’t,” she

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taunted, buying time. “Like how you arranged to sabotage the Steadmans' plane. Or perhaps we should talk about which hospital it was you had your vasectomy in without telling your wife.” She smiled. “Or maybe we should discuss which divorce attorney she had settled on.”

Incensed, he shook her like a rag doll. “Shut the hell up!” His grip was cruel as he forced her chin up so their eyes met. “Now you quit playing games and do what I tell you.”

Heart pounding, Alex dragged her feet up the porch stairs,

praying someone was looking out those tall windows and would spy the two of them. It was then that she saw Wendy Fox standing next to Brad and someone else just on the fringe of her sight sitting in front of them, obviously reading something on a

computer screen.

She shot a glance sideways at Ferron. He was too intent on

shoving her along to notice what she had. Sending her telepathy forward once again, she felt a quick flash of success when Brad’s head lifted abruptly, shooting a look directly at her. Their eyes connected for a brief moment and she saw the fear in his before she quickly glanced away.

However, it wasn’t as easy to look past Wendy Fox. Their gazes connected, locked, for only a few seconds but in that span she felt the empathy, the communing of spirits between them. The woman acknowledged her with a quick nod of her head, bent to say

something to her husband and then disappeared from view.

She glanced at Ferron, relieved that he hadn’t seen what she had.

“Ring the doorbell,” he growled, shoving the gun harder into her side.

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She grimaced, doing as he suggested because she saw no other option. She listened as the melodic tone resonated throughout the house, remorse rushing through her. This was her fault, all her fault. She took a deep breath, her mind racing, sorting and

discarding ideas. She couldn’t allow this man to finish what he had set out to do, wouldn’t allow it. Yet, to call the police would be suicide at this point. She knew it and she would bet they did as well.

The door opened and Brad stood there, his dark eyes

murderous. “Let her go, Ferron,” he said through clenched jaws, his gaze flying to Alex’s cut lip. “You get your jollies out of bullying women?”

“Could be,” Ferron smirked, shoving Alex forward. “Let us in, Norton, or your lover dies.”

Brad’s anger was strong and fierce and it took everything he had not to lift his fist and punch the man in the face. Only the terrifying sight of the gun pressed against Alex stopped him from reacting. That and the gaze she raised to his, fury not fear in their green depths. He moved aside, allowing them to pass and closed the door, leaning against it.

Ferron shoved Alex further into the foyer, keeping her in front of him and motioning for Brad to move ahead, keeping his back to the wall until he did. “Give me your gun,” he demanded. “Now!” he snarled, yanking Alex against him hard. His hand ran along her side, finding and pocketing her pistol. His smile was ugly. “How stupid do you think I am?” She let out an involuntary cry of pain as he ground the gun against her ribs, his gaze never leaving Brad’s. “You’re armed just like little Miss Detective, here. Now hand it over.”

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Brad lunged forward but came up short when he raised the

pistol with its deadly silencer pointed directly at his head. “Don’t even try it.” He put his hand out and grabbed the weapon Brad gave him, shoving it into his coat.

“Not as smart as you thought you were,” he said smugly, his

arm loosening just slightly from around Alex’s stomach, his hand brushing against her breast. “What’s the matter, lover boy?” he taunted Brad. “Don’t like me touching your woman?” His hand

brushed over her again. “Too damn bad.” His eyes swiveled around the room. “Where’s Wendy?”

“Getting our daughter up from her nap,” Steven said, coming to stand beside Brad, fists clenched. “What do you want, Ferron?”

The smile was unpleasant. “You know exactly what I want. Give me the disks.”

“When hell freezes over,” Alex said succinctly while at the same time bringing her elbow up and sinking it deep into Ferron’s stomach. When he doubled over, releasing her, she swung around and brought her leg up in a perfect arc, connecting with his face.

With a roar, he grabbed his chin and stumbled backward,

waving his gun wildly.

Brad seized the opportunity and lunged forward, attempting to grab the gun. Only it was a second too late. Alex watched in horror as the mirror in the hallway exploded, sending the heavy frame toppling toward Brad, its weight causing him to stagger back and fall. Ferron leaned against the front door still breathing hard and fired again, the bullet making a deceptive ping as it left the gun.

Brad jerked and then was still.

“Brad, no!” Alex screamed, rushing forward, heart pounding as she cradled his bleeding head in her arms. Steven started toward

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them, only stopping when Ferron cocked the gun again, wiping the blood around his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I’m not a patient man,” he snarled. “I want those disks and I want them now.”

“The police know about you, Ferron,” Steven said through

clenched teeth. “If a college kid could follow the trail, they will as well. It’s only a matter of time.”

Russell shook his head, a sneer playing across his handsome

face as he lifted a gloved hand. “Not going to happen, my friend. No clues and no disks make for no evidence.” He shot a glance down the hallway. “Wendy, get out here or your husband is victim

number two,” he called, training the gun on Steven and rubbing his sore jaw.

“Leave her alone,” Steven said harshly, striding toward the den.

When Ferron raised his gun, he ignored him and continued

walking. “You want the disks or not?”

Russell didn’t reply but watched with narrowed eyes as Steven ejected the CD they had been reading and pushed it and the entire case toward him.

“Go ahead, take it,” Alex said tightly, rising, blood staining her clothing and tears still damp on her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter because there are copies. Corey Johnson might have been a

frightened pawn in all of this but he wasn’t stupid.”

“You’re lying,” Ferron said calmly. “The cops didn’t believe him because I made sure they didn’t. An anonymous letter here and a phone call there.” He shook his head smugly. “The kid was a freak and everyone knew it.”

“A freak who knew how to put the pieces together,” Alex said, moving away from Brad’s prone body, drawing his attention to her.