A Deadly Influence (Abby Mullen Thrillers #1)(119)

A long silence. “I don’t know,” he finally said, sounding defeated. “I did everything right.”



He was exhausted. Exhausted from the noise outside, exhausted from the looks that the girl and her mother gave him, exhausted from talking.

“Luther?” Abby said. “Are you still with me?”

“I’m here.” He should finish it. He and the girl would die together. And that way, they’d stay together. He leaned forward, the knife at her throat. She whimpered. A tiny drop of blood trickled down her perfect skin.

“I was thinking about that day she first talked to you,” Abby said. “That day with the yellow shirt. I bet it wasn’t the only time she made you feel special.”

“No.” He smiled sadly. “There was her nineteenth birthday. We were both so happy. And that trip to California. She kept posting updates—like breadcrumbs—so I could follow her.” The memories flooded him. Tears welled in his eyes. They had been so happy. Did it really have to end now?

“That sounds lovely,” Abby said. “And you said you still have a special connection, right? You said you are confused and surprised. Do you think she could be too?”

“Maybe.” He pulled the knife away. “Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding.”

“Then how can I help?” Abby asked.

“What?”

“How can I help to make this better?”

He blinked, surprised. She wasn’t screwing with him. He heard the concern in her voice, the sadness. She understood him.

“I don’t want to go to prison.”

“Go to prison?”

“For the kidnapping. And for . . . for this.”

“Well, I think we can get you a good attorney. I know someone who might be perfect. We can show in court how you did everything you could to make the boy feel at home, right? Because it was never really a kidnapping. And you were just doing what his sister told you to.”

That was true. They didn’t know about the murders. They couldn’t connect those to him. And the rest was a misunderstanding. With the right legal protection, even if he went to prison, it might be for a short time. And when he got out, Gabrielle would be there, waiting. “The money,” he blurted. “Gabrielle collected the ransom. She was about to transfer it. Can I use it for legal fees? Can you check it for me?”

“How can I convince them to do it?” Abby asked doubtfully. “I can’t even promise that Gabrielle is alive.”

“She’s alive. She’s here.”

“But they won’t believe you’re telling the truth.”

He frowned. “I can let you talk to her. Would that work?”

“Well . . .” Abby paused for a few seconds. “I think that would work.”

He put the phone on speaker but then hesitated. He didn’t trust the girl. “Tell her you’re fine,” he said, placing the knife at her throat.

“H . . . hello?” the girl sobbed.

“Gabrielle? This is Abby. Are you okay?”

“I’m . . . I’m fine. I’m scared.”

“We’ll fix this,” Abby said, her voice calm. “Don’t be scared. Is your mother okay? Is anyone hurt?”

“N . . . no.”

He muted the speaker and put the phone to his ear. “Is that enough?”

“I think so,” Abby said. “Let me check regarding the money. I really appreciate your cooperation, Luther. We’ll get through this, okay?”

“I only did what she asked for. I got her followers. I made her famous.”

“You definitely made her famous. I think she’ll see that in time.”

“Right,” he said slowly. He had an idea. In time? Maybe he could make the girl realize it right now. The remote for the TV was within reach. He leaned forward, keeping the knife on the girl’s throat, and switched on the TV.

“Luther? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, are you checking about the money?”

“I sent someone to check. It might take some time. You know how these things are.”

“Yeah.” He switched between the channels, searching. Then, suddenly, he paused. A local news channel. Gabrielle’s face was on-screen.

“See that?” he said, smiling at the girl. “You’re famous. Just like you always wanted.”

She didn’t answer, her eyes glued to the TV. He watched with her, the reporter saying there was a police siege at the house of Gabrielle Fletcher. That sources claimed she’d been taken hostage. Abby was saying something in the background; he wasn’t listening to her. His smile faded as the reporter said the man holding Gabrielle hostage was believed to have murdered Eric Layton.

They’d found out about Layton’s murder. He wasn’t going to get a short sentence. He would spend his life in prison.

Screaming, he threw the phone at the TV, and the screen fractured, the picture fading away into nothing.





CHAPTER 81


A stunned Abby stared at Will. “What just happened?”

“There was a noise in the background,” Will said. “I think he turned on the TV.”

Abby hadn’t noticed; she had been so focused on the conversation. It had been going so well. And then a shout of rage, and the call had disconnected.