Gone Too Far (Devlin & Falco #2) - Debra Webb Page 0,105

passed on to her in the event he was unable to tell her about it.

It was time to finalize one last step.

He watched as the rented luxury sedan pulled into the parking lot of the abandoned warehouse on Finley Boulevard. Mason emerged from his Lexus and strode toward the dark sedan without hesitation. The engine continued running, the parking lights on. As he approached the front passenger-side door, the auto lock disengaged. He opened the door and settled into the leather seat. The dim interior lighting closed in around him and the man he’d asked to meet him. Mason placed his hands loosely in his lap.

“I was surprised you called,” Leland Walsh announced. “I thought our business was finished after our last meeting.”

“I thought so, too, until I spoke with her.” Mason knew her better than she knew herself. When she did not refute his allegation, he had known he was right. She would never have permitted Mason the leeway to move on a conclusion that was unfounded. She was far too exacting for such an allowance.

Walsh had the audacity to laugh. “Really, Agent Cross. I can hardly see the problem. She has every reason to feel exactly as I do, wouldn’t you say?” He turned to face Mason. “An eye for an eye, after all. Except we aren’t talking about eyes, are we?”

Mason gave a nod, primarily at having his conclusion confirmed straight from the horse’s mouth. “No, we are not.” As he spoke, he slid a hand beneath his jacket and wrapped his fingers around the butt of his weapon. “You made a mistake, Walsh.”

“She made no move to stop me,” he tossed back. “We both know who’s in charge here.”

“Always recognize your limitations.” Mason withdrew his weapon, pressed the silenced barrel to the man’s forehead. The dim interior lighting cast an eerie glow on his suddenly pale face. Fear bloomed in his eyes. “Never cross a man who is more merciless than you.”

He fired the weapon, relaxed at the sharp ping that sent the bullet through the other man’s skull. Then he got out of the car.

Now to end this.

38

Today

Saturday, April 17

7:20 a.m.

Birmingham

I don’t want to die.

Turning fourteen hadn’t made her as brave as she’d thought. She had to run . . . she should never have taken that call. She should have stayed home and not sneaked out of the house.

She needed a way to contact her mom and . . .

The car door opened.

It was too late.

Alice slid into the back seat of the car. She glanced at Tori.

Tori tried to act normal as the driver pulled away from the curb in front of Alice’s house. Stay calm. She didn’t want Alice to see how terrified she was. She had to play along at least for a while longer. The only thing she could think to do was pray. Didn’t matter whether God had ever answered her prayers before or if she didn’t really know how. Praying was her one option at the moment.

It wasn’t like she could call for help. After picking up Tori a block away from her house, Alice had thrown Tori’s cell phone out the window. She should have started screaming then. She should have shouted for the driver to stop. At first, she’d been too shocked at what Alice had done to react. Then she’d realized she couldn’t do either of those things . . . not if Sarah needed her.

Alice had explained that Sarah had slipped out of the hospital and run away because her parents wanted to send her to a psychiatric hospital. Alice had insisted Sarah intended to try suicide again, but she’d persuaded her to wait until they could talk face-to-face.

Tori couldn’t ignore the possibility that Alice was telling the truth this time.

A glance at the black bag on the floorboard reminded Tori of another reason she had to try to be calm for a while longer. That big knife was right there in that bag. She’d sneaked a look inside while Alice had gone into her house for something she’d forgotten. If Tori dared to scream or to tell the driver . . . Alice would probably kill her before he could even stop the car—if he even stopped. The driver may have been hired by her family. Maybe he was a killer too. Either way, that knife was intended for hurting someone. Tori was not going to let Alice get away with hurting anyone else.

“Our destination has changed,” Alice said to the driver. “Birmingport