by Robin Caroll
Steve laughed. “Now you know how it feels, Malone. It hurts, doesn’t it?”
Hunter stared at Katie, hunched over on the ground. Her body shook as she cried. It ripped his heart from his chest. “Steve, this is between you and me. Let her go.”
“Now what would be the sport in that?” Steve leaned against the four-wheeler, propping his weight against the back bar. “Ready for your next question?”
“You’ve shot her, isn’t that enough?” Hunter despised the weakness in his voice. He clenched and unclenched his fingers, helplessness encroaching over him.
Lord, please, no more. I beg You, not again.
“Here’s your next clue, Malone. Pay attention.” Steve crossed one foot over the other. “She was confused, unsure. You turned her against me. Made her afraid of me. It wasn’t her fault—she’d have come around in time. But your lies made her scared of me. You thought you were smart, trying to set me up, forcing her to act as if she wanted nothing to do with me.” A deep red washed over his face as his jaw muscles popped. “I had no choice. I had to take her. Had to kill her. And it’s all your fault. Who am I?” He glanced at his watch again. “You have one minute, starting …. now.”
A girl who died on his watch. Amanda Rails? No, she committed suicide. Or did she? Hunter recounted the facts. No, there’d been no man involved—wrong case. Delaney Mills? She died in an auto accident that her boyfriend swore had been bombed. Hunter glared at Steve. Couldn’t be him—too short.
“Thirty seconds.”
First year case … she died ... her murderer never captured … fearful … scared … a stalking case! He lifted his gaze to probe Steve’s appearance. No way.
Dear God, not him!
But Steve stood about the same height with the same build. His hair looked different—a new color, but that could easily be changed. Clean shaven, again, a minor alteration to appearance. Hunter narrowed his eyes and intensified his scrutiny.
Same cold eyes she’d described. The same aristocratic cheekbones the bureau’s sketch artist had drawn in dark charcoals. Same sinister laugh she’d described. But no, he had to be dead. They’d assumed he’d killed himself. Isn’t that what the profilers said? That he’d have to kill himself because he’d never be able to live with what he’d done to her.
“Time’s up. Who am I, Agent Malone?” Steve’s eyes mocked him.
Katie’s cries rose. For the rest of his life, her sobs would haunt his mind. Just like Misty’s death haunted his soul.
Hunter stared into Steve’s eyes. “You’re Edward Allistar, Misty Mulligan’s stalker, kidnapper, and murderer.”
Chapter 27
Katie held her breath, waiting for the next bullet to slam into her body.
It didn’t come.
She lifted her head and stared at the men, now glaring at each other. She kept her hand pressed hard against her thigh, using the same amount of pressure Hunter had shown her when Christian was shot. So much useless violence. Christian, Jerry, Hunter, and herself. Would the insanity never end?
“Very good, Agent Malone. I’m impressed.” Steve snickered and straightened. “Took you long enough.”
“You stalked that woman, kidnapped, and killed her.”
Steve’s face puffed and turned red. “I loved her! And she would have loved me if you … you…” He pointed at Hunter. “You and the other agents hadn’t turned her against me.”
“She didn’t even know you.” Hunter's voice sounded amazingly calm. Like they were having an afternoon chat in the park. She moaned under her breath, wincing from the fresh throbbing in her wound.
Steve's sneer sent a shiver racing up her spine. “In time, she would have realized we were meant to be together. But noooo . . . you couldn’t let that happen, right?”
Katie gripped her leg harder as ripples of pain shot throughout her body.
Hunter’s gun lay on the concrete, shimmering in the overhead sun, beckoning for her to pick it up and save them. She stole a glance at the men. Both were arguing and scowling at each other, so enthralled in their anger that neither paid any attention to her. Could she get to the weapon before Steve/Edward/whoever saw her intent? Katie swallowed and slid four inches toward the gun. Neither man looked in her direction.
Dear God, let me do this. Help me. I’m not ready to die.
“You ruined my life! I had to have plastic surgery, take on a new identity, move away from my job, family, and friends.” His eyes bored into Hunter, pure hatred shooting forth.
Only a couple more inches, God. Don’t let that man—Steve, Edward, whatever his name is—look over and catch me. Please, God.
She pulled herself farther across the asphalt, a smear of blood trailing behind her. Slowly leaning forward, she extended her hand. Her fingertips grazed the metal. The gun moved across the pavement, sounding like gravel in a top.
Edward glared at her, pointing his big handgun at her face. “No you don’t, you miserable wench.” A litany of curses spewed from his mouth.
Katie pulled back, balling herself into the fetal position.
Oh, God, I failed. Help me, Lord. He’s going to kill me and Hunter. Save us.
The unmistakable click of the gun’s hammer echoed over the still, quiet afternoon.
Katie tensed, waiting for him to deliver the fatal shot. Her thigh quivered as she tightened her muscles.
A deep growl sounded from the trees.
Her heart pounding, Katie snapped to attention.
Shadow raced across the parking lot, faster than she would’ve imagined he could on a broken leg. Propelling himself through the air, the dog collided with Edward’s upper body, knocking him off balance.
The back of the man’s heel hit a fallen log, and he crashed to the asphalt.
The gun clattered to the ground.
Hunter dove for the firearm at the same time Katie’s fingers wrapped around Hunter’s weapon. Both pulled the handguns up, pointing them at Edward. Only Katie's shook so violently, she had to clasp one hand over the other to steady her aim.
Still lying flat on his back, Edward shoved at Shadow. The dog didn’t move. His teeth broke the skin on Steve’s neck, little pinpricks of blood trickling down his neck.
“Arrrrgh! Get this dog off of me.”
“Shadow!” Katie snapped her fingers twice.
The blue heeler rushed to her side, his body panting against her as he whined.
She hugged her dog. “Good boy.”
“Freeze! FBI!”
Ariel burst through the trees, her firearm aimed at Edward, who struggled to his feet. Christian and Orson limped up behind her.
Hunter slipped his gun into his waistband and on one leg, hopped to Katie and eased down beside her. “Are you okay?” He pulled her into his arms, planting little kisses on the top of her head.
Tears flowed freely down her face.
In the distance, the whirring of sirens sounded.
She collapsed against Hunter’s strong chest.
Hunter’s heart tightened as he rocked Katie. His lips pressed against her hair, his thoughts focusing only on praise to God for their safety.
The ambulances whipped into the parking lot, followed by three police cars and a fire truck.
Ariel, roughly dragging the handcuffed Edward, moved to the police officer and spoke with him in low tones. The officer shoved Edward inside his cruiser.
A firm tap on his shoulder jerked Hunter around. “Sir, you need to let her go so we can stabilize you both for the trip to the hospital.” The young Emergency Medical Technician nodded at Hunter’s wound.
Hunter planted a final kiss on Katie’s temple, then released his hold. An older EMT examined and treated Hunter’s wounds. Hunter couldn’t pull his gaze away from Katie, even as the paramedics moved her to a stretcher. Her eyes were closed and her face drawn, pale. Had he failed another woman? The one he was falling in love with?
“They’ll take your statements at the hospital.” Ariel hovered over him. She held out her hand. Hi
s Beretta laid flat in her palm. “I think this belongs to you.” Her voice hitched.
He took the gun and gripped it tightly, staring at its icy steel. He found his voice wavering. “Thanks, partner.”
Tears welled in Ariel’s eyes. “They’re taking all of you to the Emergency Room. I’m riding with that nice Lt. Lyons.” She flashed a wry grin. “We get to escort Steve to the local bureau.”
“His name is Edward Allistar.”
“Huh?”
Hunter grunted as he helped the EMT shift him to the stretcher. “Edward Allistar. Stalker. Kidnapper. Murderer. My first field case.”
Ariel’s face went as blank as an erased blackboard. “The one you told me about?”
The pain in his chest thumping worse than the gunshot wound to the thigh, Hunter nodded. His throat tightened, making speech impossible.
“Oh!” She cleared her throat. “I’d better make sure I get all the info correct.” She turned to head back to the police cruiser.
He forced the words out. “Call Brian back in Virginia and tell him to fax the locals all the paperwork. Paul needs to be picked up. And make sure they send units back to retrieve Jerry’s and Carter’s bodies and they know Walter’s in a death cave.” Hunter bit back the pain when the medics pushed him toward the waiting ambulance.
“Will do,” Ariel tossed over her shoulder as she jogged away.
Hunter shaded his eyes against the movement under the bright sun. Misty had finally been avenged. Nine years too late to save her, but at least her killer would no longer roam free.
Trust in Me, son.
Stilling on the rolling stretcher, Hunter gasped.
“Are you okay, sir?”
Be still and know that I am God.
Hunter tightened his hands on the nylon straps holding him on the stretcher. I’m listening, Father God.
Let go of the past and move forward.
His heart quickened, then sputtered. Let go?
Lean not unto Your own understandings, but trust in My ways.
“This might be bumpy. Hang on, sir.” The EMT tightened the strap holding Hunter in place on the stretcher.
I trust You, God.
Let go of the past and move forward.
The medics loaded him into the ambulance alongside Katie.
She turned to look at him. Her silver eyes reflected the flashing lights from the fire truck behind them. Reaching out to him, she smiled.
Hunter stared at her hand.
Let go of the past and move forward.
He closed his eyes. Good-bye, Misty Mulligan. May your soul rest in peace in our Father’s house.
Opening his eyes, Hunter took Katie’s hand and squeezed it.
Let go of the past and move forward.
How To Help The Author
A special note from the Gallaghers:
“Word-of-mouth is the most powerful marketing tool—even stronger than the class 5s of the Gauley River. If you enjoyed reading about Katie and Hunter’s adventure in Torrents of Destruction, we’d appreciate you rating this book and leaving a review. Even just a sentence or two is greatly appreciated.”
Please create a review of Torrents of Destruction HERE!
Thank you—We appreciate you!
Dear Reader
Thank you so much for joining me in the adventure on the Gauley River. This story was inspired after my husband returned from a trip where he and a friend completed a “double upper” on the Gauley. The photos and video he brought home to share spurred my imagination into overdrive. The photo used on the cover of this book was one of his trip.
I originally wrote this novel in 2005, then when it was finished, as writers often do, moved on to other stories. My husband recently asked to read this manuscript again. When he’d finished, he asked why I’d stuck it on a drive and forgot about it. So I reread the story, and fell in love with the Gauley, the Gallaghers, and Hunter Malone all over again. After much revising and editing, I’m so excited to share it with you readers. It is my intention to eventually tell Christian and Gabe’s stories…as soon as those characters are ready, so stay tuned.
If you are interested in discussion questions for this novel, please visit my website at www.robincaroll.com and click on FOR READERS. You’ll find many extras there, just for you, my reader friend.
I’m always delighted to hear from fellow readers. Click here to sign up for my newsletter on my website so we can stay in touch. I’m on Facebook under Author.RobinCaroll on Twitter under RobinCaroll, and you can always reach me via snail mail at PO Box 242091, Little Rock, AR 72223. I’d be honored to hear from you.
Blessings! And keep reading,
Robin
If you enjoyed Torrents of Destruction, consider reading the author’s acclaimed Bayou series. The adventure starts with BAYOU JUSTICE…
Alligator conservationist Coco LeBlanc knew real fear when she found a body in the clutches of her beloved beasts. Fear turned to horror when she saw that it was one of the Trahan clan—and he'd been shot in the back. Her ex-boyfriend, Luc Trahan, had dumped Coco two years ago when she refused to give up her family's centuries-old voodoo traditions, and he didn't know about her newfound faith. Now, as they and their families become prime suspects in the grisly crime, they'll have to work together to clear their names before the Cajun killer strikes again.
Click HERE to order BAYOU JUSTICE for your kindle.
Also by Robin Caroll
Justice Seeker Series
Injustice for All
To Write a Wrong
Strand of Deception
The Christmas Bell Tolls
The Evil Series
Deliver Us from Evil
Fear No Evil
In the Shadow of Evil
Hidden in the Stars
Torrents of Destruction
The Bayou Series
Bayou Justice
Bayou Corruption
Bayou Judgment
Bayou Paradox
Bayou Betrayal
Bayou Blackmail
Dead Air
For Middle Grade/YA Readers
Samantha Sanderson At the Movies
Samantha Sanderson On the Scene
Samantha Sanderson Off the Record
Samantha Sanderson Without A Trace
About the Author
Best-selling author of more than twenty-five novels, ROBIN CAROLL writes Southern stories of mystery and suspense, with a hint of romance to entertain readers. Her books have been recognized in several awards, including the Carol Award, HOLT Medallion, Daphne du Maurier, RT Reviewer’s Choice Award, and more. Robin serves the writing community as Executive/Conference Director for ACFW.
For More Information
@RobinCaroll
Author.RobinCaroll
www.robincaroll.com
