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Authors: Diana Copland

BOOK: A Reason to Believe
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single tear slipped from beneath his lashes, sliding

down his pale cheek. It left a glistening silver

streak on his skin.

“Kiernan,” Matt said. His nerves thrummed with

foreboding.

“He says he won’t hurt me, but I don’t believe

him,” Kiernan went on in the whispered voice.

“His voice sounds funny. All…” Kiernan made a

gesture with his hand, and it was shaking. “I don’t

know, but it doesn’t sound right. There are bad

men. My mommy told me, and this is a bad man. I

know it.” He paused, his nose wrinkling. “He’s

shoving something in my mouth. He says it’s just a

cookie, but it tastes so nasty. When I try to spit it

out, he puts his hand over my mouth again.” There

was a hiccupping little sob. “I don’t like this. I

want my mommy.”

Kiernan jerked his head, and it looked as if he

was being restrained. “I don’t want it!” he said

firmly. His shoulders began to tremble. “He tells

me if I eat it, he’ll let me go, but he’s lying. I try to

stop him, but he shoves it in my mouth…”

Kiernan’s voice stalled on a strangled gagging

sound, and he grimaced. Another tear slipped

down his cheek, and Matt’s uneasiness intensified.

“He keeps holding my mouth shut. I swallowed, I

want to tell him, but he won’t let me go…”

There was a long moment of silence. Perhaps it

was over. Abby had been drugged. Maybe that was

as far as her sentience had gone. But a sound came

from low in Kiernan’s throat, and Matt’s body

tightened. It sounded the way he imagined a

wounded dove might sound—lost, desolate,

hitching on broken little hiccups.

This needed to stop. Matt was more convinced

than he’d ever been of anything.

“Kiernan, enough.”

He breathed a sigh of relief when Kiernan rose

from the floor, but Matt knew he’d misread the

situation immediately when he turned. His eyes

were unnaturally wide, the pupils blown. He

staggered, his arms stiff as if someone was holding

him against his will.

“I don’t feel good,” he whimpered. “I feel like

I’m going to throw up.”

“Kiernan,” Matt said again, his voice louder.

“Enough, now.”

“He tied my hands, put tape around my head,”

Kiernan went on, clearly not hearing Matt at all.

“It’s pulling my hair and it hurts. I’m scared. I’m

so scared. Mommy…” Fresh tears spilled down

his cheeks. “Mommy, please…”

Matt didn’t think he could bear any more. It was

like watching the child go to her death. He reached

out to grab Kiernan’s arm, but suddenly there was

clarity in his eyes, and a raw intensity. “Don’t

touch her!” Kiernan hissed, his voice a low growl.

“You won’t get this chance again.”

Matt jerked his hand back. As quickly as it had

come, the lucidity in the blue eyes was gone, and

now in its place was a half-lidded, drugged

expression. The transition was terrifying.

Kiernan stumbled out of the room and down the

hall, away from the main staircase. His arms

remained stiffly at his back, his steps sluggish.

Matt followed closely, every instinct he had

screaming that he needed to stop it, stop him, but

not sure how. When Kiernan lurched around a

bend in the hallway and stopped at a shadowy

door, Matt bit back a startled gasp.

The police knew the killer had taken the child

down the servant’s stairs. The investigating

officers had found threads from her gown caught in

the splintered edges of the steps, but it was just

one of a number of details they hadn’t released to

the media. How could Kiernan know, unless…

The narrow door flew open untouched, and Matt

jerked back, gasping. He stared at it, eyes wide,

heart pounding.

Kiernan staggered down the stairs, slipping

twice, somehow miraculously not falling. Matt

followed him closely. When they got to the kitchen

door, it flew open too, stopping just short of

bouncing off the wall, where it seemed to vibrate

in an unseen grip. Now Kiernan did fall, going

down hard on one knee on the tiled kitchen floor.

He cried out, his voice still high and childlike.

“Kiernan?” A voice called from the living

room.

Matt felt a rush of relief. “Aidan, could you

come here for a moment, please?” he called, his

eyes fixed on Kiernan’s half-open eyes, and the

fearful shallowness of his breathing. Two sets of

footsteps approached, one in heels. “Mrs.

Reynolds, please go back to the living room,” he

added firmly. There was no way in hell he wanted

Abby’s mother to see this. “Please. I’m going to

have to insist. I’ll explain later.”

One approach hesitated and then stopped, and

Aidan Fitzpatrick entered the kitchen alone. She

looked at her brother as he swayed unsteadily on

his feet. Her eyes widened.

“What did he do?” she asked hurriedly, her

voice hushed, moving close but not touching him.

“He said she wanted to show him, not tell him,”

Matt answered quickly. She hissed between her

teeth. “What does it mean?”

“He’s in her head.” She came to his side

cautiously. “He’s in her head, and he’s too damned

tired for this. He knows better.”

“He said it just took more energy,” Matt said,

feeling as if he’d missed something important.

“It does.” She eyed her brother with concern.

“Among other things.”

Abruptly, Kiernan lurched forward, and the

door to the basement swung open the way the other

two had. Matt wasn’t reassured when Aidan

squeaked in alarm.

“Oh, my God!” she muttered, staring at the

quivering door.

“What do we do?” Matt asked as Kiernan

started down the narrow staircase.

“Follow him.” She rushed after him with Matt

right behind her.

Aidan cried out when Kiernan fell down the last

three stairs into the gloomy basement. Matt

reached out to grab him, but she intercepted his

arm, her fingers like talons.

“Don’t touch him!” she ordered. “Pulling him

out can be as dangerous as wherever he is.”

Matt growled, raking his hands through his hair.

His helplessness was infuriating. Kiernan took

another few steps before he fell to his knees on the

concrete floor. Whimpering, he lay down and

curled on his side in a fetal position. His breathing

was muted, as if it were being blocked by

something.

The tape, Matt realized, feeling colder than he

could ever remember being. The duct tape around

her head and covering her mouth.

Aidan went to his side, close but not touching

him. “Kiernan, it’s time to come back, now. Come

back. Don’t go any further. You’ve seen what you

need to.”

It made no difference. The terrified, tortured

breathing went on, the drugged eyes half-lidded.

“Kiernan, come on,” his sister almost begged.

“It’s enough.”

A terrible thought occurred to Matt, and he took

a step closer. “She was drugged,” he said, his

voice tight.

Aidan’s eyes found his, widened in her pretty

face. For the first time, she looked genuinely

frightened.

“She was drugged,” he repeated.

“Shit.” Her eyes went back to her brother’s

waxy face.

“What?” Matt closed the space between them.

She looked up at him, twisting her fingers

together as if to keep herself from touching

Kiernan. “How compromised was she?”

“She wouldn’t have been able to fight it at all.”

“Shit,” Aidan repeated, her hands reaching out,

hovering over her brother’s twitching form without

touching him.

“What?” Matt insisted.

Aidan looked up at him, her eyes desperate.

Anything she might have been going to say was cut

off when Kiernan lurched violently to his back, his

body arching, his spine stiffening. His eyes went

wide in his colorless face, and the most horrifying

sound Matt had ever heard slipped from between

his tight lips. He sounded as if he were gagging. Or

being choked.

“Kier,” Aidan cried, tears filling her eyes.

“Kier, stop now. Come back. Come back, damn it.

Kier!”

The sound of her voice was almost as terrifying

as the sounds coming from Kiernan’s throat. Tears

slid back into his hair. His legs thrashed and then

stopped, as though someone had caught and held

them down. There had been bruises on Abby’s

shins, as if someone heavy had sat on them.

Another detail the police hadn’t reported to the

media…

Matt’s pulse started to race in horror as

Kiernan’s movements grew more sluggish, and his

eyes rolled back in his head. The electrical charge

in the air deepened.

“Oh, God,” Aidan cried, her hand still hovering

over his chest. “Kier, stop! Stop!”

His slender frame shuddered, the horrible

gurgling sounds continuing, and suddenly Matt

couldn’t stand it. He went to his knees and shoved

Aidan out of the way, his hands curling around

Kiernan’s upper arms.

“Don’t touch him!” Aidan wailed, but Matt was

done listening. He lifted Kiernan’s shoulders from

the floor and shook him, hard.

“Kiernan, stop!” he ordered, but nothing

happened. Kiernan’s eyes were terrifyingly blank

between his black lashes, and his body remained

stiff under Matt’s hands. Matt drew in a harsh

breath, staring into the whitened face. He wouldn’t

give up. He couldn’t. It was like watching Abby

Reynolds die, and he couldn’t stand it. Then it hit

him.

Abby.

“Abby, let him go,” he said harshly. “Pull back.

You’re hurting him, Abby. Let him go!”

Kiernan jerked and inhaled harshly, eyes

snapping to Matt’s face in sudden comprehension.

It was so silent all Matt could hear was the

pounding of his own heart.

Slowly, the corner of Kiernan’s full lips pulled

up in a shadow of a smile. When he spoke, his low

voice sounded raw.

“Nice save, Matthew,” he muttered.

His eyes closed as he went completely limp.

Chapter Six

Matt caught Kiernan Fitzpatrick’s limp body in his

arms, just saving his head from connecting with the

concrete floor. Staring down at the suddenly

lifeless face, Matt was frightened. Kiernan’s lips

were slightly parted, so pale they looked

bloodless. His cheekbones were stark and sharp,

and there were bluish bruises under his eyes. Matt

curled his arm around his shoulders and was

reaching for his neck to check for a pulse when

Aidan’s voice finally registered.

“Detective, listen to me!”

He jerked his head up. She’d been talking but he

hadn’t heard her above the roaring in his own ears.

“We need to get him out of here,” she said. “Can

you carry him? I don’t want him coming to in this

basement, just in case he’s still too open.” He

stared at her in incomprehension, and she yanked

on his sleeve. “It isn’t safe for him. Something

opportunistic could get through. He can’t protect

himself. Help me get him out of here,” she ordered,

her fear finally registering in his mind. “Please!”

His arms underneath Kiernan, Matt surged to his

feet and hurried up the shadowy staircase. He burst

through the kitchen door only to find Karen

Reynolds waiting, her eyes wide and her hands

clenched in front of her.

“Oh, God,” she cried. “What’s happened?”

Matt pushed past her, barely registering the

reassuring sounds Aidan was making behind him.

He got as far as the massive front door and then

had to wait until Aidan caught up.

“I promise, we’ll be in touch, Karen,” she said.

“He’s just tired from the end of a long tour, and the

session was a bit overwhelming. He fainted, that’s

all. He’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I’ll be waiting to hear…”

Aidan opened the large door, and whatever else

Karen Reynolds might have said was lost in the

crunch of his feet on snow as Matt walked quickly

to the Bronco. Fluffy flakes fell onto Kiernan’s

upturned face, caught in his hair and his lashes.

Matt lifted him closer to his chest and cradled him,

and felt the sigh that moved through Kiernan’s

body. The dark head rolled, and his face pressed

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