Chapter 96
“My son is currently in the locked ward at Finley Creek County hospital, hooked up to machines. Where he has been since Detective Kimball attacked him.”
“Steve Wilson is your son? Like for real?” Maybe not the right words to use, but anyone looking at Ernest Newcomb and Steve Wilson would never believe they were related, let alone father and son.
The only thing they had in common at all was the lighter hair—Wilson’s was blond, and Newcomb’s was gray and blond—and blue eyes.
She looked at him, what she could see in the twilight. The sun would be setting soon.
And that made this even more complicated. Madison…Madison didn’t know how she was going to get away. She just didn’t. Someone had tried to kill her multiple times—this was the fifth time here. If this was a softball game, she’d have already been out by now. She just had to stay calm.
She could do this.
She was going to get back to her family, her mother, her friends.
Her caveman.
She wanted Dom more than anyone else in the world right now. She wanted to see what could happen between them. She wanted to not have those regrets any longer. She should have jumped him years ago. Then…then they’d have had time to build a life together.
Maybe…she’d have not worked nightshift any longer.
Maybe they would have both done something different with their lives if they were together.
Maybe they would have had three kids by now—and she’d have taken Houghton Barratt up on his offer to run the DNA lab he owned.
It was in Wichita Falls. She could have commuted.
Dom could have gone into private security or something.
They didn’t have to stay with the TSP. She could have…left the TSP years ago.
Regrets were pretty sour right now. No denying that. “You don’t look anything like him.”
For one thing, eight or nine inches and eighty pounds was a good place to start. Steve Wilson had been in prime physical shape. Strong and well-muscled, broad shouldered and physically attractive, even if the shell hid the soul of a monster. Ernie Newcomb just…wasn’t.
“I assure you, he is mine. I have confirmed it with DNA…through…my eldest granddaughter. I know she’s his child. I confirmed that five years ago.”
If he was Steve Wilson’s father, then he was…
Heather’s daughters’ biological grandfather, too.
Not that she thought Heather was ever going to claim any of Steve’s evil relatives as her daughters’ family.
But she sure felt bad for that teenage girl out there somewhere right now.
“Are you one of the ones causing problems for Heather? Starting the rumors about her everywhere and everything?”
She’d believe it. He’d always come across as such a little weasel to her. He and Pete both.
Yes, she had some serious rancor for Pete right now, that was for sure. But…mostly…terror.
Fear. This man had no intention of letting her get away.
If she was going to escape and get back to her caveman, Madison was going to have to find a way to do that herself.
“Heather has been a thorn in my side for years. Over four years now. All she has done is get in the way and start digging. Get people who I need to keep happy all riled up. Always causing trouble. Do you know how many times I have tried to have that woman taken out in the last four years? And she just wiggles her way right out. Which…now…I am rather glad I didn’t, considering two of my granddaughters…
That woman has nine lives. Nine lives. I don’t know how she has accomplished it, but she has escaped me every single time. ”
Anger and admiration were at war there. Even this guy was…fascinated…with Heather in his own way. He’d tried to kill Heather. Okay. Fact there. And no, she didn’t know how many times. But apparently definitely more than once.
“So…you kill people. For money.” And he obviously had no intention of letting Madison go. Why would he? So she could tell everyone his secrets? Not likely. “And have been for…how long?”
She just wanted to know if what she, Heather, and Hope had found was true.
More than that, if he was going to kill her now—this van would be found eventually.
And they had those handy brand-new in-cabin microphones.
They’d been installed…after Kimball and Wilson.
The more she got him to tell her, the more he spilled his guts—if she didn’t escape, she didn’t want it to be in vain.
She glanced up. The indicator light was on.
Holy bananas, they were recording right now. So no matter what happened to her, whatever he said—it would be accessible on the cloud. Even if this van, or Madison, were never found.
He might try to take her out, but she was taking him down with her.
No more being a victim. Madison was going to fight with everything she had to get back to the ones who loved her.
“Much longer than you’ve been alive, young lady. It did not happen intentionally, the first time. But it was very, very lucrative. It just grew from there.”
“You are a paid killer.”
“Yes. I haven’t always done the actual work, but it is remarkable what you can get done for you if you pay well.”
“So…how many people around here use your services? Let’s say…per year? I’ll admit it, I’m trying to figure out if you are brilliant—or just a serial killer. Do you advertise in a Murderer-Am-I catalog? How does it work?”
He laughed. It sounded nasally. No. Steve Wilson definitely did not take after his father physically.
And that was going to work for Madison’s advantage, if it came down to a physical battle.
He was almost forty years older than she was.
He was only four inches taller and maybe forty pounds heavier.
And she had a lot more to live for. Her entire future that she was going to have and build with Dominic Vincent.
“Is that what I am, you suppose?”