[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.The other was much wronged.Finishing his slice, he wiped his face and hands and stood up.“If you want to be sure about Hannah, we need to know who did the shooting and why.Now.”Daniel pulled up his e-mail program.“I’ll make it a code one.”“You do that.” Gabriel headed back into the bedroom.THIRTY-ONEHannah was running, running for her life, but she couldn’t run fast enough because she was pushing Mrs.Manly.Someone was chasing her, pointing a gun and shooting.But it wasn’t Mrs.Manly in the wheelchair.It was Gabriel.She did CPR, but the blood poured out of him, and he died there in her arms.She looked up into the black eye of the pistol, then back down at the body in her arms.But it wasn’t Gabriel anymore.It was Carrick, and he was staring at her.Pointing the gun and staring at her.Carrick’s green eyes.green eyes.She was on the verge of knowing something, something very important.The click of the door brought her out of the nightmare.She sat up, covered with sweat, her heart hammering.Gabriel stood there, his back against the door, dressed in a pair of jeans and, as far as she could tell, nothing else.He ran his gaze over her and smiled as if he liked her naked and disheveled.“I’m going to take a shower.Want to help me?”“I think I’d better wake a little bit more.” She rubbed her head fretfully.She wanted to sit here and think about what the dream was trying to tell her.Something important.something so dreadful.“Did I wear you out?”“I’m fine.”He sauntered over and sat beside her, a smug beast of a man.His fingers drifted down her breastbone, and he watched as if fascinated by the contrast of colors and textures.“You always say that when actually.” He took a long breath and shifted his gaze to her face.“Dr.Bellota was right.You were exhausted, and I spent all night making love to you.I really did wear you out.”She tugged the covers up.“You’re the one who was shot through the thigh.I was just.barely shot.”“Bellota says I’m a disgustingly healthy animal, and he wishes all his patients recovered as quickly as I do.” Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead.“Go back to sleep.”“I’m fine.” Man, he was irritating.“I’ll be out in five minutes,” he promised.“Don’t get your leg wet.” She ought to help him wrap it, but her dream.something about Carrick’s eyes.Gabriel made a face.“Ten minutes.I’ll be out in ten minutes.Then we can nap together.”She didn’t want to nap.She wanted to remember that dream—the dream that even now was drifting away from her.He headed toward the bathroom, and she watched him, the man she had trusted with the truth.He looked strong, healthy.He walked with almost no limp.His recovery had been nothing short of miraculous, and still, she had dreamed he had died, that he had turned into Carrick.Then.then.“Damn it!” she muttered.The whole thing was muddled in her mind, the message lost in Gabriel’s arrival.But maybe it was a warning.Certainly she should find where Carrick was, to discover what he was doing.She should make sure he couldn’t find her and hurt Gabriel, because.because her subconscious abruptly hummed with anxiety.Flinging back the covers, she leaped to the desk.She opened Gabriel’s laptop and typed Carrick Manly into the search engine.She got a hit right away, a new interview in Oui-Gee magazine, a periodical that catered to the people interested in the occult.She clicked on the article and found herself staring back at an artfully posed photo of Carrick with his dimples in full bloom.He was handsome—she had to give him that.That was why he’d managed to extend his fifteen minutes of fame into an hour.And in a way, she was glad, because while he was in the public eye, she could follow his movements.She could be safe.She scanned the interview.He talked about losing his mother, of course, and how all the signs had pointed to the danger of having a celebration in that particular house on that particular Halloween.As always, he was a figure of tragedy and high drama, recounting the tale of Nathan Manly and the lost fortune.But this time, down at the bottom, the interviewer asked him about the good luck of finding his half brothers.He assured the interviewer that family was so important to him, he had hired a security firm to locate them.Not surprisingly, precognition had made him hire a very special man, Gabriel Prescott, and Gabriel had turned out to be his brother, too!Stunned, breathless, Hannah read the interview again.And again.And in case she didn’t believe the printed word, there was a small photo of Carrick and Gabriel, sitting at a table in a restaurant, sandwiches before them, talking intently.The image imprinted itself on Hannah’s retina.She slammed the laptop closed.It wasn’t possible.It could not be possible.But it was.That was what she’d been dreaming.Gabriel had turned into Carrick—because Gabriel had the same green eyes.As he washed, Gabriel cursed the plastic wrap and the duct tape that kept his bandage dry.The whole thing took too long to put on, and it took too long to take off, and all the while, Hannah was lying in bed alone and worried about her confession to him.That was the real reason she hadn’t come in the shower with him.She was afraid he didn’t believe her.The hand that held the soapy washcloth slowed.She was afraid for good reason.He didn’t believe her.Did he?Was he willing to condemn Carrick without asking for the truth? If he did ask for the truth, would Carrick tell him?Did Carrick even know what the truth was?Would Carrick admit to killing his own mother?No, never [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.The other was much wronged.Finishing his slice, he wiped his face and hands and stood up.“If you want to be sure about Hannah, we need to know who did the shooting and why.Now.”Daniel pulled up his e-mail program.“I’ll make it a code one.”“You do that.” Gabriel headed back into the bedroom.THIRTY-ONEHannah was running, running for her life, but she couldn’t run fast enough because she was pushing Mrs.Manly.Someone was chasing her, pointing a gun and shooting.But it wasn’t Mrs.Manly in the wheelchair.It was Gabriel.She did CPR, but the blood poured out of him, and he died there in her arms.She looked up into the black eye of the pistol, then back down at the body in her arms.But it wasn’t Gabriel anymore.It was Carrick, and he was staring at her.Pointing the gun and staring at her.Carrick’s green eyes.green eyes.She was on the verge of knowing something, something very important.The click of the door brought her out of the nightmare.She sat up, covered with sweat, her heart hammering.Gabriel stood there, his back against the door, dressed in a pair of jeans and, as far as she could tell, nothing else.He ran his gaze over her and smiled as if he liked her naked and disheveled.“I’m going to take a shower.Want to help me?”“I think I’d better wake a little bit more.” She rubbed her head fretfully.She wanted to sit here and think about what the dream was trying to tell her.Something important.something so dreadful.“Did I wear you out?”“I’m fine.”He sauntered over and sat beside her, a smug beast of a man.His fingers drifted down her breastbone, and he watched as if fascinated by the contrast of colors and textures.“You always say that when actually.” He took a long breath and shifted his gaze to her face.“Dr.Bellota was right.You were exhausted, and I spent all night making love to you.I really did wear you out.”She tugged the covers up.“You’re the one who was shot through the thigh.I was just.barely shot.”“Bellota says I’m a disgustingly healthy animal, and he wishes all his patients recovered as quickly as I do.” Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead.“Go back to sleep.”“I’m fine.” Man, he was irritating.“I’ll be out in five minutes,” he promised.“Don’t get your leg wet.” She ought to help him wrap it, but her dream.something about Carrick’s eyes.Gabriel made a face.“Ten minutes.I’ll be out in ten minutes.Then we can nap together.”She didn’t want to nap.She wanted to remember that dream—the dream that even now was drifting away from her.He headed toward the bathroom, and she watched him, the man she had trusted with the truth.He looked strong, healthy.He walked with almost no limp.His recovery had been nothing short of miraculous, and still, she had dreamed he had died, that he had turned into Carrick.Then.then.“Damn it!” she muttered.The whole thing was muddled in her mind, the message lost in Gabriel’s arrival.But maybe it was a warning.Certainly she should find where Carrick was, to discover what he was doing.She should make sure he couldn’t find her and hurt Gabriel, because.because her subconscious abruptly hummed with anxiety.Flinging back the covers, she leaped to the desk.She opened Gabriel’s laptop and typed Carrick Manly into the search engine.She got a hit right away, a new interview in Oui-Gee magazine, a periodical that catered to the people interested in the occult.She clicked on the article and found herself staring back at an artfully posed photo of Carrick with his dimples in full bloom.He was handsome—she had to give him that.That was why he’d managed to extend his fifteen minutes of fame into an hour.And in a way, she was glad, because while he was in the public eye, she could follow his movements.She could be safe.She scanned the interview.He talked about losing his mother, of course, and how all the signs had pointed to the danger of having a celebration in that particular house on that particular Halloween.As always, he was a figure of tragedy and high drama, recounting the tale of Nathan Manly and the lost fortune.But this time, down at the bottom, the interviewer asked him about the good luck of finding his half brothers.He assured the interviewer that family was so important to him, he had hired a security firm to locate them.Not surprisingly, precognition had made him hire a very special man, Gabriel Prescott, and Gabriel had turned out to be his brother, too!Stunned, breathless, Hannah read the interview again.And again.And in case she didn’t believe the printed word, there was a small photo of Carrick and Gabriel, sitting at a table in a restaurant, sandwiches before them, talking intently.The image imprinted itself on Hannah’s retina.She slammed the laptop closed.It wasn’t possible.It could not be possible.But it was.That was what she’d been dreaming.Gabriel had turned into Carrick—because Gabriel had the same green eyes.As he washed, Gabriel cursed the plastic wrap and the duct tape that kept his bandage dry.The whole thing took too long to put on, and it took too long to take off, and all the while, Hannah was lying in bed alone and worried about her confession to him.That was the real reason she hadn’t come in the shower with him.She was afraid he didn’t believe her.The hand that held the soapy washcloth slowed.She was afraid for good reason.He didn’t believe her.Did he?Was he willing to condemn Carrick without asking for the truth? If he did ask for the truth, would Carrick tell him?Did Carrick even know what the truth was?Would Carrick admit to killing his own mother?No, never [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]