Evil Never Dies (The Lizzy Gardner Series Book 6)

by T. R. Ragan

  “We’re trying to find him. He wasn’t home, so I went to his work.”

  “He couldn’t be back at work already. He can hardly walk.”

  “According to his secretary, he returned a few days ago. The last time he called in, he told her he had a dinner meeting. She hasn’t heard from him since.”

  Detective Chase hung up on Johnson, grabbed his keys, and ran out of the house. He knew Lizzy was living in Loomis, but he had no idea what her new address was, so he called Jimmy Martin.

  First time for everything.

  After he explained what was going on, Jimmy’s voice went tight. He gave Chase her address and told him to call him once he reached the house.

  Detective Chase white-knuckled the steering wheel all the way to Loomis. Forty-five minutes never felt so long. By the time he arrived, it was dark, which didn’t help matters, considering she lived in the middle of nowhere. There was a BMW parked in front of the house. He called in the license plate and didn’t like the information he got back. The car belonged to Wayne Bennett.

  He called for backup and then headed for the front door, listened, and quickly decided he didn’t like what he heard.

  The sound of nothing was seldom a good thing.

  With his gun in one hand, he turned the doorknob with the other. The door was unlocked. There was blood everywhere. He could practically taste it.

  Working his way to the right, he called out Lizzy’s name as he went.

  Paint. He could smell paint. He flipped on a light. The baby’s room had just been painted. The lamp on the floor, broken. His pulse raced, adrenaline soaring as he exited the room and made his way through the living area and into the kitchen, where he found Bennett faceup on the floor in front of the sink. Pools of blood had formed on both sides of his body.

  He knelt down. There was no pulse.

  And then he saw Lizzy.

  Her head was propped up against the wall at the far corner of the room. She wasn’t moving.

  His heart sank. Blood—so much blood.

  Kneeling at her side, his fingers on her neck, he felt for a pulse.

  He tried her wrist. Nothing.

  “Lizzy Gardner. Don’t you die on me.”

  And that’s when he saw it.

  A twitch of her finger.

  He called Dispatch. “Where the hell is the ambulance? There’s a live one here. Get someone here pronto, or I’m taking names!”

  EPILOGUE

  One Year Later

  Nicholas Gardner Shayne had taken his first step at nine months, when he still looked way too young to walk. According to the pediatrician, he was average in height and weight. He had dark hair and dark eyes just like his father, Jared Shayne. He liked to do everything fast. He loved animals, although Hannah ran and hid every time Nicholas came too close. Nicholas also loved following Lizzy around the property.

  Today Nicholas turned one, and at the moment, he was chasing after the new puppy Detective Chase had brought him—an Entlebucher Mountain Dog.

  Chase had assured Lizzy the animal was smart, personable, and agile and would be devoted to Nicholas. He said they needed protection up here in the middle of nowhere. And Lizzy knew firsthand that he was right.

  At the moment, Jessica and Magnus were sitting by the willow tree near the pond—Jessica on a bench and Magnus in his wheelchair, some off-road number he powered through the grass without much effort.

  Jessica still worked for the FBI and was on the fast track to becoming one of the best criminal profilers in the world, spending most of her time working cold cases.

  Magnus had quit working for the DEA. He and Jessica were talking marriage, but those two liked to take things slow. They were waiting to see if Jessica could get transferred to the Sacramento area. Although Magnus would never walk again, he had mastered the use of his wheelchair and he was getting on with life. From where Lizzy stood, she saw Magnus laughing as he watched Nicholas chase after the puppy.

  Kitally hadn’t changed a bit. She was energetic, always teetering on the wild side. She had followed through on her plans to buy Lizzy Gardner Investigations and had no plans to change the name, since she hoped Lizzy might decide to join her later down the road.

  Not a chance.

  In twelve months, Kitally had become one of the best damn insurance fraud investigators in Sacramento, and business was good. She had also started a new line for security weapons: bra with hidden dagger, broomstick with push-button spear, brass knuckles that delivered an electric shock, and her newest weapon—a wraparound leather-and-chain belt that doubled as a lethal whip.

  Jimmy Martin had retired, just as he said he would, and a postcard had arrived yesterday wishing Nicholas a happy birthday. He and his wife had sold their house in California and were now traveling the world, spending months at a time in France, Mexico, Italy, and England.

  Brittany and Cathy were the next to arrive, their arms loaded with birthday gifts for Nicholas. Cathy visited often, and the two of them would sit outside and enjoy long talks while Nicholas played close by. Lizzy had heard from Brittany that her sister was dating again, but apparently Cathy wasn’t ready to introduce him, since she hadn’t brought him to the party.

  Brittany was a sophomore at Sac State. She’d grown another inch. With light-brown hair and a smile that didn’t quit, she was beautiful.

  “I told you we weren’t going to spoil Nicholas,” Lizzy said to the two of them. “No presents, remember?”

  “Mom’s fault,” Brittany told her as she slid the gifts under the food table. “Where did that puppy come from?” She pointed toward the pond, where the dog barked at Kitally as she climbed into the kayak and pushed off.

  “Detective Chase thought Nicholas and I needed additional protection.”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Cathy said. Her face paled when she saw a Mercedes pull up and park alongside all the other cars in the gravelly parking area.

  It was Jared’s mom and dad.

  Cathy turned to Lizzy. “Did you invite them?”

  Lizzy nodded. “I thought it was time they met their grandson. You two make yourselves at home. I’m going to go get Nicholas and have him say hello to his grandparents.”

  A few minutes later, introductions were made. Jared’s father became teary-eyed. Nicholas, being a perceptive little boy, took the old man’s hand and dragged him off to see his new puppy.

  “Is he going to be OK?” Lizzy asked Mrs. Shayne.

  “He’ll be fine. I think he’s overwhelmed by how much Nicholas looks like Jared at that age. We have the pictures you’ve sent us, but seeing our grandson in person is quite a shock. I’m sorry it took us this long to come see him.”

  Lizzy didn’t mind. Everyone had his or her own demons to deal with. She and Mrs. Shayne watched the two of them walk off—the tall man with the slow gait being led by a one-year-old who reminded them all so much of Jared.

  Tommy was the last one to pull up the long drive and join the party. Everyone converged on his car, straining to see if he might have brought anyone else along for the ride, but he was alone.

  After Hayley had made certain that Lizzy would survive Bennett’s attack, she had left Sacramento. Tommy had begged her to stay. They all had. But there was no stopping her. Her mind was made up. And no one had seen Hayley since.

  Tommy often stopped by to see how Lizzy and Nicholas were doing. He would play with Nicholas, do odd jobs around the house, and then Lizzy wouldn’t hear from him until the next time he showed up unexpectedly.

  Lizzy greeted Tommy as he climbed out of his car. “Any word from Hayley?”

  “Not so far.”

  Watching Tommy jog down toward Nicholas, Lizzy wondered if he knew anything about the list that she, Kitally, and Hayley had put together so long ago. She’d probably never know the answer to that, since she had no intention of ever bri
nging up the subject. Far better to let it lie. As she watched, he picked up her son and twirled him about, making Nicholas laugh.

  Hayley would come back eventually, Lizzy thought. She was certain of it.

  Tommy had been driving for an hour on the highway when his phone rang. He hit Talk on the console.

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “I’m on my way to your place. I’ll be there in another thirty minutes.”

  “Did you see everyone?”

  “I did. They’re all good. Nicholas is a great kid. He’s already so big. Lizzy looked happy.”

  “I’m glad.”

  After Hayley left Sacramento, six months had gone by without a word, but she finally made contact. Tommy had been certain she would, and he was right. He had seen her dozens of times since that first call. She had rented a tiny dilapidated cabin with a leaky roof in the Sierra Nevadas, a riverfront home on the South Yuba with turquoise water for miles and countless swimming holes.

  He no longer tried to talk her into coming back to Sacramento. Although it had taken him a while, he finally understood she needed time to heal, time away from people and society.

  Until she was ready, he would be the conduit between Hayley and the people she cared about. He would keep her updated, and he would spend as much time with her as she would allow. With Hayley, he would always be patient. All she had to do was call, and he would be there. She was sassy, maybe even badass, but she was loyal to the core, and she would always be his girl.

  Lizzy put Nicholas to bed. Her son fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow, the puppy curled up next to him. No nighttime story necessary.

  She walked out of the room and strolled out onto the front porch, where her gaze roamed over the area dotted with pines and oaks. She knew she would have to remain vigilant if she wanted to protect her son. Today had been a day of celebration, and Lizzy had felt about as carefree and relaxed as she ever would. She’d come to terms with knowing she would have to remain watchful and alert. Always.

  Six months after Nicholas was born, Lizzy had received a letter from Zachary Tucker:

  Dear Lizzy,

  I was saddened to hear you quit the PI business. I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you since we met at the gallery downtown and then again at my beautiful waterfront home. Your niece, Brittany, is lovely, and I find it to be such a delightful coincidence that your niece and I share a passion for art. As I have been on my best behavior since arriving at my new residence, I have been given full access to the prison library. I have done my research, and I must say I find your fondness for serial killers to be a charming trait. I only wish I had checked you out more thoroughly while I had the freedom to do so. It is for this reason I am writing to you now. I appeal to you to please find it in your heart to visit me here in prison. If I do not hear from you or see you in the coming months, I would like to take this moment to wish you and your son, Nicholas, much happiness. I have absolute faith I will meet him someday, and see you and your beautiful niece again.

  Until then,

  ZT

  Lizzy went back into the house and walked around, making sure every window and door was secure. After the alarm was set, she went to her bedroom, where she unlocked the fireproof steel door she’d had installed where the closet used to be.

  Since the Wayne Bennett incident, she had stockpiled a few weapons: a Maverick 88 twelve-gauge shotgun, a Mossberg 500 twenty-gauge high-capacity pump-action shotgun, a Smith & Wesson Governor stainless-steel revolver with rifle barrel, a GLOCK 19 nonthrill handgun—so easy to fire—and her new favorite, a KRISS Vector with low recoil and fast follow-up shots and a twenty-five-round extended magazine.

  She did a lot of practice shooting on the property. She was running again, too, pushing Nicholas in the stroller, and staying in shape.

  Zachary Tucker’s letter was on the shelf next to the ammunition where she’d left it—her constant reminder that evil never dies.

  She shut the solid steel door and then turned the dial, locking it tight.

  “Come and visit me anytime, Zachary. I’ll be ready for you.”

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  After nearly twenty years, I decided to transition from writing romance to writing thrillers. I had always loved reading in the thriller genre, so I thought, why not give it a shot? After writing the first hundred pages of Abducted, I found myself unable to sleep well. Researching real-life serial killers was not, I realized, for the faint of heart. I put the book away and wrote Having My Baby, a contemporary romance, instead.

  When I came back to Abducted, I found myself sucked into Lizzy’s world. Suddenly, nothing could stop me from finishing that book. Getting a good night’s sleep was no longer a problem because I realized my book wasn’t about serial killers, or bad guys, or rapists. The book was about Lizzy Gardner. She is a survivor. Although traumatized by her past, Lizzy is determined to push on and find a way to heal while also helping others.

  Months after finishing Abducted, since the book had yet to be submitted to publishers, I self-published my first thriller. I never intended for Abducted to become a series, let alone a bestselling novel. But more than one million readers later, I can tell you that’s exactly what happened.

  Evil Never Dies is the last book in this series (although you never know what might happen down the road). Lizzy and friends have been living in my head since 2009, and I have mixed emotions about saying good-bye to them. But I absolutely cannot move on to my next thriller series without saying thank you to my readers, every single one of you. You’re the best!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Many thanks to Alan Turkus, Jacque Ben-Zekry, and Tiffany Pokorny for their ongoing help and support.

  Special thanks to Kjersti Egerdahl for reading the manuscript and helping me every step of the way.

  Again, much gratitude to David Downing for making my scenes come alive. I think you’re amazing!

  Thanks and gratitude to my sister, Cathy, who continues to read every book I write. For more than twenty years, she has taken her red pen to all my manuscripts. She reads every page, over and over again, without complaint, always asking for more.

  I must acknowledge Joe Ragan Sr. and Pat Ragan for their continued enthusiasm and support. Their belief in me throughout the years never wavered, not once.

  All my love to Joe Ragan. I couldn’t do it without you.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2012 Morgan Ragan

  New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Theresa Ragan grew up with four sisters in Lafayette, California. She has garnered six Golden Heart nominations in Romance Writers of America’s prestigious Golden Heart competition for her work. After writing for twenty years, Theresa self-published in March 2011 and went on to sell more than one million books. In 2012, she signed with Thomas & Mercer and is having the time of her life.

  Besides writing thrillers under the name T.R. Ragan, Theresa also writes medieval time travels, contemporary romance, and romantic suspense. To learn more about Theresa, visit her website at www.theresaragan.com.