A Billionaire's Redemption - By Cindy Dees Page 0,55

deer. All of them have their heads cut off. Or more accurately, torn off.”

“Have you called the police?” Willa gasped.

“They think it’s a bobcat or a coyote.”

“A coyote wouldn’t take down a deer and tear its head off.”

“That’s what I told the cops, but they wouldn’t listen to me. City slickers don’t know nuthin’ about coyotes. It would take a pack of ’em to bring down a buck, and they’d eat it if they killed it. And there wasn’t a single mark on the rest of the carcass. Coyote would’ve hamstringed something big like that. Torn out its throat maybe, but not taken its entire head.”

A chill crept up Willa’s spine and icy goose bumps raised on her arms. Who on earth would kill animals in such a gruesome fashion, not to mention dump them in her mother’s garden? Minnie didn’t have any enemies. It had to be directed at her father or her. Except John Merris was dead. Which left...Willa gulped...her.

* * *

A cackle escaped while looking through the lenses of the high-powered binoculars. Willa Merris looked worried. She was good and scared now, wasn’t she? Bitch. The Merrises were done messing with other people. High time they learned what it felt like when someone else played games with their lives. Come after other people, would they? Set up other folks, would they?

Suffering. Willa Merris needed to suffer pain. And fear. No, she needed to feel terror. She’d scream with it. Lust surged at the thought of her screaming. Tie her up. But no gag—gotta hear the bitch scream. A thin blade, maybe. Sharp. Lots of little cuts. Tiny rivers of blood striping her white skin. Pretty pattern. Ahh, the agony. The panic. The sweet smell of it.

An orgasm exploded without warning and practically knocked the binoculars loose. Dammit! Loss of control like that was bad. Bitch would pay for that, too. She’d pay for everything....

* * *

For once, Willa was grateful for the mini-pharmacy on the nightstand beside her mother’s bed. It had taken plentiful dosing with tranquilizers and sleeping pills to get her mother calmed down and resting quietly. Apparently, it had been Minnie who discovered the mutilated deer in her garden, and the shock had been too much for her already fragile state of mind.

Enough was enough. Willa called a private security company in Dallas, and hired a team of guards to come out to the mansion immediately. The half-dozen men who showed up in an hour were big, quiet and competent-looking. They swept the entire property, established a security perimeter—whatever that was—and commenced setting up cameras, motion detectors and who knew what else in and around the house.

They also advised Willa to stay in the mansion until further notice. Something to do with minimizing exposure and consolidating assets. She wasn’t thrilled to be back in the mansion, but she was relieved to have a tall, muscular bodyguard nearby at all times. Her security and her mother’s were restored. If only Gabe Dawson was so easy to deal with.

He’d continued to call every hour on the hour, but there was no way she was talking to him. His wife, indeed. If he was still that invested in Melinda Grayson, the two of them were welcome to each other. She admitted to herself reluctantly that she might be hiding behind her anger to mask the hurt she actually felt at being second-best to his ex-wife. No wonder all the women who slept with Gabe declared him unmarriageable material. They were right.

And she was a big ol’ fool. She’d known what kind of man he was when she fell into his bed, and she’d deluded herself into thinking they could have more. But he was one tiger who wasn’t about to change his stripes for anybody. Her best bet was to cut her losses and move on.

But move on to what? Who else would ever measure up to him? She’d been sweet on him forever. If she was being honest with herself, she would admit that she’d measured every guy she’d ever dated against him. And they’d all come up lacking. It was one of the main reasons why she’d never found a guy she could really commit to emotionally. None of them were Gabe.

Except now that she’d had him, however briefly, it was time to accept that having no man at all was better than having Gabe Dawson.

Thankfully, the dossiers on all the candidates in the upcoming elections that she’d asked her father’s—her— staff in Washington to