"Oh...Chris...Okay," Angela gasps, allowing Chris to kiss her throat. "Okay. Just let me grab Jamie's things from Doctor Halliburton. And then, we can go. Just the three of us. Be right back."

  Chris temporarily releases Angela. However, as she pivots to walk away, he pulls her back to him. After another fierce kiss, he peers deep into her eyes.

  "Don't take too long, Hon. We have to catch our plane," Chris says with a wide evil grin.

  "I won't," Angela says, rebuttoning the top two buttons on her jacket which Chris had previously undone. "I want to be out of here just as badly as you do. The cops will be here any minute."

  Angela turns from Chris and struts away. Chris watches her for several brief seconds before whirling to face Detective Samuels and Rachel. He unholsters his pistol--equipped with silencer--and points it at Rachel's head. Rachel flinches and whimpers in fright. This can't be how her life ends? A bullet to the forehead, just like poor Evelyn.

  "Sorry, Babe," Chris sarcastically mocks the young woman, walking in her direction. "Ned always said you were a class act in bed. Too bad...We won't have a chance to test that theory. I was actually looking forward to it. But uh...Seems I've gotta run. A whole new life awaits me. And money. Lots and lots of money. Other people's money. The best kind of money to spend. So...So long, Darling. It was nice meeting you."

  A shotgun blast sends Chris flying backwards, a hole appearing in the metal wall to the left of the double doors. The former special forces sniper slams hard to the floor, sprawled on his back. Red blood soaks his shirt from right shoulder to well below what is left of his right armpit.

  "Oh fug!" Chris yells at the top of his lungs. "Oh fug! Fug! Ahhh."

  Rachel peers over her shoulder, in the direction of the main doors. A second shotgun blast rings through the abandoned factory, and the front lock is blown off. Soon after, the front doors are kicked open. Detective Mackey enters the once abandoned dog food factory, leveling his weapon at the injured sniper on the floor.

  Chris' eyes widen as he makes eye contact with Detective Mackey. Despite his grievous injury, the kidnapper attempts to sit up and crawl away from the angry father. He holds up his other hand in surrender, the tips of his fingers stained red with blood.

  "Hey. Whoa. Come on now, Detective. Don't do this. Don't kill me," Chris pleads, his breathing coming fast and hard. "Your kid is fine. He's safe. He's in back...With my old lady. I would never hurt a kid. You have to believe me, Mackey. Your boy is fine."

  "Your...Old Lady?" James says, his eyes narrowing in his handsome face. "You mean...Angela? Angela Siccone? Aka...Gabrielle Rosenberg? The owner of that black mustang parked out back? That Angela? The same woman, who about twelve years ago....Forced a young girl to kill herself? You mean...That Angela? That old lady....Would never harm a child?"

  Chris' eyes widen even further and he halts trying to crawl away from the stealthily approaching--and very wrathful--Detective Mackey.

  "I had no idea, Mackey!" Chris lies. "She didn't tell me about that. All I know is...She hired me to set you up. And to kill that Reardon girl. All I wanted...Was the money. Angela paid me well to do it. Then...She came up with that scheme to kidnap your kid. So I did that too. I'll go with you, Mackey. I'll go to jail. I'll tell you everything you want to know. Just...Don't kill me."

  "Oh, shut up!" Angela says, stepping out of the backroom. "Stop your whining, Chris. Ha. Take your punishment like a man. Men can be such little bitches when it comes to pain. Try having a mop handle shoved in your pussy! Now, that takes real grit. Ha."

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  James glowers at Angela from across the room. The stirring of a headache pounds out a rhythm behind his left eye and the detective inhales sharply. No disrespect to Cole. The man had done all he could. But, he will definitely need to see a real doctor when this is all over.

  For the time being, Mackey's main concern is getting his infant son back. To James' chagrin, Jamie Junior is not with the crazed woman. Obviously, she has left him behind with the hack doctor in the other room.

  "Where's my son, Angela?" James roars, keeping his gun leveled at Chris, but gazing at the approaching woman.

  Angela tosses her hair over one shoulder and laughs. She suggestively toys with the buttons at the front of her tuxedo jacket, while placing one foot in front of the other--as if performing a field sobriety test. She offers James a coy smile, her voice an airy whisper.

  "He's safe. For now," Angela/Gabrielle says. "Maybe soon...He'll have a baby brother. Maybe. Doubtful, though. I've been trying for so long. And the doctors say it's hopeless. I'm just hoping...Maybe this time will be different. You're the reason I'm in this predicament, Mackey Boy. Maybe...You're exactly what I need to get out of it again. It'll be like Jack and the Beanstalk. All I need...Is the right magic seeds. Haha."

  James' mouth curls in disgust. He shifts the sight of his gun to Angela. Angela stops walking in his direction, her snide grin quickly fading.

  "That's not how it works, you crazy bitch!" James growls. "Bring him out to me. Bring my son out here. Now!"

  "And what...If I don't?" Angela asks, lifting the back of her tuxedo jacket and pulling out her own weapon--the same sleek Magnum from earlier. "Are you going to kill me, James?"

  "If I have to," comes Detective Mackey's sharp reply.

  "Haha. You won't kill me, James," Angela laughs. "Cause if you do...My man...Will kill Madison and Octavia. He's waiting for my phone call. If that phone call never comes...He has my orders to kill the dumb bitches. You wanna test me, James? I don't think you do."

  "You're lying?"

  "Haha. Am I? Wanna find out?" Angela teases. "Kill me, James. I dare you. You kill me. Dr. Halliburton kills your son. And my hired man kills your wife and loyal friend. So much blood, James. All over a stupid little girl who took a handful of pills. Let me take Jamie. You can always have another baby. It's the least you owe me. After all the damage you've caused."

  "I don't owe you anything, Angela," James hisses. "But I promise you this. If anything happens to either Jamie or Madison...When I'm finished with you...You'll wish you were dead, Angela."

  For the first time since concocting her evil plan, Angela/Gabrielle feels true fear. The look in Mackey's eyes is like nothing she has seen in the detective before. He is truly ready to cross the line.

  "Ha," Angela issues an uneasy laugh. "Big talk...From a guy whose own department was so quick to put the noose around his neck. What are you planning to tell everybody? Especially, if everyone who could exonerate you...Is dead?"

  "Not everyone!" Dave barks, exiting the back room.

  Doctor Halliburton, the hack doctor on Angela's payroll, strolls out of the room ahead of Dave. Dave holds Jamie Junior in the crook of his big left arm. His other hand firmly grips his service weapon. Angela's mouth falls open in shock and she whirls on Dave.

  "What the hell? How'd...?" Angela gasps.

  A single shot rings out and Angela stumbles forward. She places a hand against her left side. Trickles of red blood pool around her manicured fingers and she glances back at Detective Mackey. However, Detective Mackey is not the person who took the shot.

  James turns to see who did. An enraged Madison Mackey stands at the open doorway of the dog food factory. The new mother's hands shake with both anger and fear. James takes a step in Madison's direction at the same instant that Angela collapses to the floor.

  "Madison? What? What the hell are you doing here? How did you know where to find us?"

  "I...I heard part of the phone call between Dave and Detective Samuels. I let Octavia believe I was going to sleep. And then, I snuck out. I...I just...I followed my instincts. I thought about everything I know about this damn town. When I saw Dave's truck...I knew I was right."

  "Oh, Madison," James says between a half-chuckle. "I told you...You should've been a private investigator."

  Madison looks from James to her tiny son in Dave's arms.

  "Ha. You really think so?" Madison quips.