Authors: Debra Webb
Tags: #Murder, #sex video, #allison brennan, #Lisa Renee Jones, #Linda Howard, #Serial Killer, #fbi, #trust
SEE HER DIE (30 page)
“I sincerely appreciate your assistance,” he said as they moved away from the station.
Nurse Bennett used her ID key card to unlock the door at the transition point. Paul followed her down a long corridor where she paused at room 415. She passed her key card through the reader and opened the door.
“Buzz me when you’re finished. She’s all yours.”
Paul flashed her another smile. “Thank you, Nurse Bennett.”
She passed him the patient chart and scurried back to the station.
He moved to the foot of the bed and scanned the chart for a time before focusing his attention on the woman, mostly to brace himself. She hadn’t spoken since they found her hovering over her husband’s body. She showed no emotion and ate only if fed.
Placing the chart and the file he’d brought with him on the portable serving tray, he moved to the bedside. The swelling was diminishing, the bruises fading from purple to yellow. She looked vulnerable and helpless. Restraints prevented her from getting up without assistance.
Katherine Ellington Manning was a bright woman, educated as a research analyst. She had an excellent work record with MedTech according to the chief’s report. She was cited as a loving wife and mother by all who knew her. And Paul sensed, without having read it, that she was not a violent person. Unlike her rebellious sister, Kate was quiet, submissive, always obedient.
Yes, mother
.
Yes, father
.
His heart beat faster as the sensations toppled one over the other inside him. The voices whispered to him. Kate would never harm anyone, much less her child or her husband. Jillian knew this without reservation. She felt it. The connection was there, despite being buried beneath years of sibling rivalry and bitter disappointment.
But she loved her sister. She wanted to save her.
Kate’s eyes abruptly flew open. “They’re coming for us.”
Paul jerked back a step. He inhaled sharply, blinked repeatedly and stared down at the unconscious woman. “Jesus Christ.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and shattered the image seemingly burned onto his irises. Kate hadn’t moved a muscle. What he’d seen and heard had come from inside his own head. Maybe. The warning, wherever it came from, was real. The only question was, did the
us
in her warning apply to Kate and her sister, or to Kate and her son?
He scrubbed a hand over his face. Slow, deep breaths. No panic. Turn it off.
But he couldn’t... not just yet.
He took her hand in his and closed his eyes. This was the part he hated most of all. He focused intently on Kate Manning. The pictures he’d viewed from the crime scene... the family photos. Her snapshots as a photography buff. But nothing came. A brick wall met his continued attempts. She wouldn’t let him back in. Or maybe he held back on a subconscious level.
Why warn him, then hold back? Didn’t make sense. He picked up the chart and the file, buzzed the nurse and walked to the door. He had to get out of here before the next phase hit. The routine was always the same. He had maybe a minute.
As if to defy him, pain split through his head, followed by a bright flash of light. He groaned, pushed it away. He didn’t want to go there now. He steeled himself and focused on the door. He needed out of this place. Just turn it off. Don’t think.
The panic reared its ugly head, a creeping, swelling fear that rose in his throat inhibiting his ability to breathe. It burgeoned in his chest, pressing against his thudding heart. Sweat broke out across his skin. The urge to run raced through his veins.
Where was that nurse?
They mustn’t find him
...
He’ll never be safe if they find him
...
Save us!
He had to get out of here.
“Is everything all right, Dr. Phillips?”
Nurse Bennett’s voice jerked him from the trance... the panic. She held the door open, waiting, looking up at him with mounting concern.
He nodded. “Everything’s fine. Thank you.”
He couldn’t get out of the hospital fast enough.
He burst through exit and gulped in breath after breath. Didn’t help. The voices... the haunting images followed him. He couldn’t make them go away. The darkness edged in... threatening his control... dragging him back to that place where he’d lost himself completely.
He forced the images away. Breathed more deeply.
He wasn’t going back there... not for anyone.
Not for Kate or her son... not for Jillian.
~*~
Jill dropped her purse onto the hall table and checked the answering machine for messages. The day was almost over and there was still no news about Cody. Her apprehension was mounting fast now. He’d been unaccounted for since Sunday morning. A neighbor had seen Kate and Cody getting into her car, presumably to go to church. But no one saw them at church. The urge to join the search was very nearly overwhelming. But how could she do that and all this?
Jill frowned, suddenly too aware of the silence.
He was gone
.
But then that was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it?
After what Cullen Marks had to say, she understood more than ever that she absolutely needed some kind of miracle that would save her nephew and sister.
Even if it meant believing in someone like Paul Phillips.
Dear God, she was losing her mind. Jill closed eyes and struggled to hold onto her composure. How could she fix this?
First things first. She would check her father’s study to see if Phillips had left a report.
Insistent knocking echoed around her. The possibility it was the chief with an update had her hurrying to the door, praying there was good news. She yanked it open and Paul Phillips filled the doorway as if her desperation had somehow summoned him. Whatever foolish relief she felt was short lived.
He was ready to bolt. He didn’t have to say a word. She could see it in his eyes, in the dark, tense angles of his face.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course.” She stepped back, opened the door wider. He came inside just far enough for her to close the door. Again she wondered about the demons that haunted him. He was unquestionably a tortured man. This looked like far more than burnout... deeper than a breakdown. When he stared at some point beyond her and said nothing, she asked, “Have you learned something about my sister’s case?”
“You said you didn’t want me to waste your time so I won’t.” He looked directly at her then. “There’s nothing I can do for you.”
He was right. She had said that. Some random brain cell screamed at her not to let him go. She was all alone in this and she needed someone.
“You found nothing that might help.” Her voice sounded as hollow as she felt. There had to be something.
He reached for the door. She didn’t miss the fine tremor in his hands. “The police will figure it out. They can’t be that blind.”
Adrenaline fired through her. He had found something.
Stay calm
. “You’re probably right.”
Don’t challenge him. Lead him
. “They aren’t blind. I’m just not sure they’re going to look.”
In a few days they would call off the primary phase of the search for Cody. It was the only logical thing to do. She knew the routine. A bigger story would come along and the press would lose interest, search volunteers would return to their lives and jobs. Then it would be over for Cody. But every fiber of her being cried out for them to continue. He was out there. She knew he was. And he was alive.
“I can’t control what the local authorities do,” Phillips argued. “I can only tell you the three things I know.” The haunted look in his eyes—this man she had deep down hoped would be her miracle—spoke of uncertainty and fear. Emotions every bit as strong as her own.
There was something. Jill’s heart rose in her throat. “Please, tell me.”
“First,” he said tightly, “any fool can see the beating your sister suffered didn’t take place in her home. It happened somewhere else, at the hands of someone besides her husband. Whoever did this to her, she feared for her safety. Make them look harder.”
“There is more to this.” It wasn’t a question, she’d known it all along. But to have it substantiated, even by someone she had every reason not to trust had victory soaring inside her. This was no love triangle. Her sister hadn’t been involved with another man.
Phillips held up a hand for her to listen. “Second, your sister, in my estimation, most likely did kill her husband. I can’t give you motive for her actions or even for my conclusions,” he went on before she could interrupt, “it’s just something I know.”
Jill’s hopes wilted. She still resisted accepting that her sister could do such a thing. How could he know with such certainty? He couldn’t. More of that frustration she’d been battling swooped in on her. How could he give her such hope only to knock her down again?
She wanted to rail at him that he couldn’t be certain but one more look into those fierce, dark eyes and she had to admit that, somehow, he was. Defeat settled heavily onto her shoulders.
“Third,” he continued, his voice low and tight, tension spiking. “The boy” he paused, looked away. “The boy’s alive... somewhere.”
Jill’s heart leapt in her chest, her hands went to her mouth to hold back the sob that shook her. Thank God. Oh, thank God. She’d known Kate couldn’t hurt her son. She’d known it with all her heart.
“We have to find him.” No matter what she thought she knew about this man, he believed her. She couldn’t let him go.
“Don’t.” He held up his hands, his face grim. “This is all I can give you. Don’t ask me to stay.” He shook his head, the movement scarcely visible. “I can’t.”
As frustrated and confused as she felt, she understood that whatever had happened to this man, the pain and fear he suffered was very real. He was rigid with the weight of it, distant, untouchable. The articles she’d read about him…the horrors he had investigated and evaluated…the breakdown…all of it zoomed into vivid focus like scenes from the latest bestseller by Stephen King.
He’d said he didn’t do this anymore. Coming was a favor to Richard. In that moment Jill suddenly realized the heavy price it had cost Paul Phillips to come here.
As much as she needed him, basic human compassion wouldn’t allow her to beg him to stay. This battle was going to consume her life, perhaps even tear it apart. How could she ask him, a man who had no personal ties to the crime or the people involved, to set himself on a course for self-destruction again? She couldn’t.
“I understand.” The words were hers, but the voice was alien to her ears.
He nodded, the movement stilted, his gaze shifting away.
She extended her hand. “Thank you.”
He stared at her hand. For a long moment she wasn’t sure he was going to touch her. Then he wrapped those long fingers around hers. He flinched, startled or pained. Her own body reacted to a flutter of awareness.
“At least I have something to go on. Thank you for that. I will find my nephew.”
He drew his hand from hers. All signs of pain or fear or the other emotions he battled disappeared. “Wherever he is,” he warned, the change in his tone chilling her to the bone, “he’s safe from the threat.” He looked around the room as if searching for the right words, then his gaze zeroed in on hers “Whatever this is, don’t go looking for it, Jillian. It’s already looking for you.”
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BONE DEEP
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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 more than 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!
Visit Debra at
www.thefacesofevil.com
or at
www.debrawebb.com
. You can write to Debra at PO Box 12485, Huntsville, AL, 35815.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
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