The Triple Threat Collection

by Lis Wiehl

  It was raining so hard the drops hit the street and then bounced up again. Allison swiped the water from her eyes. Most of the houses had porch lights on, but past each of those she could see only darkness. If people were up, they were watching TV in the dark. No house looked clearly occupied by someone who would immediately answer the door if she pounded on it.

  And even if she did get someone to respond to her frantic knocking, how long would it take to explain to them why they should contact the authorities? Or to persuade them to let her use a phone to warn Nicole? Three minutes? Five? Far too long.

  Another flash of lightning, followed almost immediately by the crack of thunder. Didn’t that mean the lightning was less than a mile away?

  When Allison peeked around the corner again, Nicole’s car was already in the driveway, and Nicole was raising her fist to knock on the door.

  “No, Nicole, no, don’t!” As she screamed a warning, the thunder cracked again.

  Nicole turned to look over her shoulder. Her hand was moving toward her gun.

  The door opened.

  A man stood silhouetted against the light. Both arms were held straight out in front of him, and in his hands was a gun with what looked like a silencer on the end. “Welcome to hell, Nicole Hedges,” he shouted over the rain. “Save a place for Lucas Maul.”

  Then he fired, and Nic fell backward off the steps.

  “No!” Allison screamed. She was too overwhelmed with horror to think, to realize that she was giving herself away. “Nic!”

  Maul jerked his head to the left. His eyes met Allison’s. They widened as he recognized her. The gun snapped up again. Pointed right at her.

  Allison turned and ran.

  CHAPTER 38

  Allison’s legs moved up and down like pistons in an engine being pushed to its limit. Her fists punched the air with each step. Desperately she zigged and zagged, her bare feet beating against the wet pavement.

  Pi-choo! A bullet whined past her ear. Trying to present as small a target as possible, she squeezed her arms tight to her sides and bent forward as she ran even faster. The rain lashed her skin. She only hoped it was also obscuring the outlines of her body.

  She paid no attention to the stinging rain, or the cut on her foot, or the burning in her lungs. The only thing that mattered was staying alive.

  She had to. Even though Nicole was lying dead somewhere behind her. Even though so many people she loved were dead now. Not only Nicole, but Cassidy and Lindsay. She had to live because of the new life growing inside her.

  And because if she died, then Lucas Maul would win. His twisted version of justice would triumph.

  Risking a glance over her shoulder, Allison saw that Maul was about a block behind her, running flat-out. He held the gun down at his side. At least he was no longer aiming it at her. Not right this second, anyway.

  Where could she go? This street was too open. Just a long straight stretch of empty road, lit up by streetlights and the occasional flickering bolt of lightning. If Allison tried to hide behind a garage or cut into a side yard, Maul could follow her all too easily. Probably with the helpful addition of motion-activated security lights.

  Even if a car appeared and she ran to it, how would they be able to save her? She would just end up getting any possible Good Samaritan killed, gunned down alongside her.

  Ophelia must have called the cops by now. Unless Maul had shot her too. Allison couldn’t think about that right now. Even if Ophelia had managed to alert the authorities, Maul would get to Allison long before any of them responded. She had to get off this empty, brightly lit street and to someplace he couldn’t see or follow her as easily.

  Where? Where? Where? The question pounded in her brain.

  The road curved to the left, and she crossed over to the other side, the side with no houses. Instead there was just a grassy strip of bluff about twenty feet wide. Below it the land dipped steeply down toward the Willamette River about a mile away. She could see the headlights of cars crossing the Sellwood Bridge, the lights of a boat sailing down the river in the darkness. And in between her and the river lay—what?

  Closest to the river was Oaks Amusement Park, where Allison had attended many birthday parties and summer outings when she was a kid. The Ferris wheel was still lit up, and a few spotlights had been left on, but most of the park was dark, the rides shut down, closed up for the night.

  And in between Allison and that Ferris wheel was a deep, velvety darkness, shadow upon shadow. Precious darkness, where she might be able to hide.

  But what was in the darkness, exactly? Then she remembered. It was some kind of wildlife refuge for birds. Oaks Bottom, that’s what it was called. It had a shallow lake, trees, shrubs, wildflowers, trails for city dwellers who wanted a taste of the wild without leaving the city. And dozens and dozens of birds: hawks, hummingbirds, ducks, woodpeckers, and eagles.

  She and Marshall had been there once, years ago, before they were even married. Her memory conjured up a short paved path and a longer, narrower, muddier trail, which was the one they had taken. While they were walking, a great blue heron had lifted off nearly in front of them, uttering a deep, hoarse croak. Its huge wing span had been awe-inspiring, as if they had traveled back to the time of flying dinosaurs. And later they had seen an osprey dive steeply into the river and come up with a still flopping silver fish in its claws.

  Thinking of all this took only a second, and meanwhile Allison’s feet kept right on slapping the pavement. The wetlands offered more cover than the illuminated city street. She chose them without a second thought. Darting across the bluff, she bolted into the darkness that lay below. It was so steep her first step off the bluff felt like it covered yards and yards, like she was an astronaut bounding endlessly in zero gravity.

  Then she landed so hard that the pain jolted all the way from her heel to her jaw. Her teeth caught her tongue, and blood flooded her mouth. Still she didn’t stop. She hurtled blindly down the hill, hands in front of her, willing her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

  With her next step, Allison’s toe caught a root. She went tumbling head over heels, jolting over what felt like hundreds of small stones. Each time she landed on her shoulder or her hip or the back of her neck, she worried that she had broken something, but the slope was so abrupt that she could do nothing to slow herself down. She was like one of those daredevils who had gone over Niagara Falls in a barrel. At a certain point, you gave yourself up to whatever came next.

  As she rolled and tumbled down the hill, she again heard pi-choo, pi-choo, this time above her. Maul must be standing on the edge of the bluff, shooting down at her. Shooting blindly, she hoped.

  Finally she slowed down enough that she managed to regain her feet. She stumbled forward and kept moving, not stopping for anything, trying not to think about the various parts of her body that were now screaming in pain.

  To run was to live. To stop was to die.

  And then she was in the trees, lurching between them, branches slapping her face, ripping out hanks of her hair. Another lightning bolt zigzagged down to her left, lighting up the sky so that for a split second it was as bright as day. It had hit only yards from her, close enough that the back of her neck prickled. The thunder came right on its heels.

  Allison kept running.

  She could hear Maul some distance behind her, stumbling and cursing. The sounds gave wings to her feet. Pushing her way through the wet tangled underbrush, she was heedless of the brambles and sticks that clawed at her bare skin.

  The night itself was far from quiet. Frogs peeped, the occasional mosquito whined in her ears, and the rain still drummed on the thirsty ground, although it seemed to be letting up a little. The earth was so dry and cracked that it was turning to mud, making it even harder to move quickly.

  Allison ran and fell and picked herself up and ran again, feet sliding out from under her at every step. She never looked back. Her right ankle throbbed. She thought it might be sprained, but her fear was big
ger than the pain. Her eyes had adjusted by now so she could avoid the trunks of big trees, but roots and rocks still tripped her up, brambles and smaller branches still tore and slashed at her. She splashed through a small stream and worried that she was making so much noise that Maul could easily follow her. But it seemed more important to put distance between them than to be silent and slow.

  The lake was off to her right, wasn’t it? She hoped it was, because if she blundered into it, he would surely hear her.

  When she tore half her left big toenail off on a sharp rock, Allison gritted her teeth to keep from screaming. At least she hoped it was half her toenail and not half her toe. The pain was such that either seemed possible, and she couldn’t afford the time to reach down to check.

  Her skin was slick with rain, her hair plastered to her head. To stop the sodden cloth of her borrowed shorts from simply sliding off her body, she had to keep yanking on the waistband.

  And then she burst from a stand of trees into a clearing. Ahead of her was a railroad track, and then a chain-link fence and a short stretch of weeds that dropped down to a narrow paved road. On the other side of the road was a wrought-iron fence and the imposing circle of the Ferris wheel.

  She had run out of wetland.

  Ahead of her were two fences and the amusement park.

  Behind her Lucas Maul.

  The choice seemed easy.

  CHAPTER 39

  Allison darted across the railroad tracks and managed to climb over the chain-link fence, using her bruised bare toes like a monkey’s. She scuttled across the road, the skin between her shoulder blades itching. If Maul spotted her, she’d be an easy target. The resulting spurt of adrenaline gave her the extra push she needed to clamber over the metal fence that ran around the amusement park. The tops of the black bars ended in dull points, and one dug painfully into her thigh.

  She landed on her poor feet, which were by now so bruised and cut that she barely bothered to wince. There were now two fences between her and Maul. With luck, he was still hunting for her in the wildlife refuge. She could find a security guard or maybe a pay phone—some way to connect with the outside world and let the cops, who were hopefully looking for her by now, know exactly where she was.

  Keeping to the shadows, she ran through the parking lot and between the two huge toy soldiers on either side of the entrance. Corrugated metal shutters covered the windows and doors of the gift shop and booths that sold lemonade and snacks. The ticket booths all had white Closed signs in their windows. To her left, the roller coaster looked much tamer than she remembered. Across the way was the big pink slide that had been a fixture at the park since she was a child. Did children still slide down it on burlap sacks? Did burlap sacks even exist anymore?

  Allison remembered the first time she had climbed to the top of the slide, how her father had held her hand up the seemingly endless series of steps. Once they reached the platform, the only thing separating them from the long fall to the ground was a chain-link fence. Five-year-old Allison had frozen in fear. She didn’t want to stay on the open platform. She didn’t want to slide down the slide. She didn’t even want to turn around and go back down the stairs to where her mother waited with Lindsay. All three choices seemed impossibly dangerous.

  Allison remembered the fear so well. What she didn’t remember was what had happened next. Had she slid down the slide, discovered it was fun, and begged to go again? Or had she been carried, sobbing, back down in her father’s arms?

  Then the danger had all been in her mind. Now it was real. So real it could kill her.

  She turned to look at the slide again and walked full-tilt into a metal garbage can. The round lid crashed to the pavement. The noisy clang was as loud as the clash of cymbals. It was unmuffled by the rain, which had died down to a light patter. The lid rolled over and over, making more noise with each revolution before finally coming to a halt.

  Allison froze. Holding her breath, she listened as hard she could.

  Nothing but the faint sound of the rain.

  She was just exhaling when she heard footsteps swiftly crossing the road. Heading straight toward the amusement park.

  No. No, no, no.

  Where could she hide? While there were plenty of shadows, they didn’t offer enough concealment. Everything here was out in the open and squared off—no recesses, no unevenness, no projections to hide behind. The wide and open walkways had been designed with children in mind, so they couldn’t slip out of sight of their parents.

  But now that openness meant there was no place for Allison to hide from the man who was determined to kill her.

  She heard him grunt as he scaled the fence and dropped down on the other side. His footsteps began again. And now they were getting closer.

  Where could she hide? The nearest ride was the carousel. She hurried over to it and stepped up on the outer edge of the platform. The rain pinged off the roof. Until now, Allison had been wishing for shoes. Suddenly she was thankful for her bare feet, which moved soundlessly. She threaded her way around the carousel, past a prancing black horse, a brown kangaroo, a gray emu, a white unicorn with a golden horn. Finally she crouched down behind a large elephant designed to hold at least two riders. She peeped past the elephant’s short curly tail.

  Go away, she told Maul silently. Go away, go away, go away.

  Instead, he stepped into view in front of the Tilt-A-Whirl. Allison would not have recognized this thin man with the shaved head as the same man she had helped bring to justice six years ago.

  Maul pulled a small black rectangle from his back pocket. A phone. He tapped on it with one thumb. His other hand still held the gun. It seemed a strange time to send a text. Then the whole screen glowed a bright white, and Allison realized he had been opening a flashlight app.

  After a spurt of fear, she relaxed a little. The phone as flashlight was nowhere nearly as bright as a real one. It illuminated an area only about five feet in front of him.

  Then Maul leaned over the wide paved path. What was he looking at? He held his phone a few inches above the ground. And Allison saw what had caught his attention. Half a bloody footprint. Bent double, he shuffled forward, waving the light back and forth until he found the next. And the next.

  They were leading in a line straight to the carousel.

  He stepped up on the carousel, and it shifted a little under his weight. Allison risked another glance. Holding the phone in one hand and the gun in the other, Maul slowly began to circle the ride.

  If she moved, he would shoot her. If she stayed still, he would find her and still shoot her.

  Was there anything she could wrench off one of the wooden animals and throw at him? Or better yet throw into the distance so he would hear the sound and think she was someplace else? Her eyes darted back and forth, but of course there was nothing loose on the ride, nothing that some determined child could pry off and turn into a safety hazard.

  And then she saw Maul’s shoes. They stopped about five feet from her.

  “Get up,” he said. His voice was more weary than angry. “Get up or I’ll shoot you right now.”

  She stood. He skirted the elephant’s wooden trunk until only a few feet separated them. In silence they stared at each other. Water still ran in rivulets from his bald head. Very little about him looked like the Lucas Maul from his booking photos. Except for the eyes. They were the same. Challenging. Threatening.

  “You.” Maul shook his head. “How can you be alive? I killed you. I shot you twice in the heart.”

  “You shot my little sister. Lindsay Mitchell. Not me.”

  “No. I’ve seen your sister. Some skanky tramp with pink streaks in her hair. I’ve seen her sneaking cigarettes outside your house.”

  “That skanky tramp was going to be a businesswoman,” Allison spat. “You didn’t know her. You didn’t know her at all. She never did anything to you, and you took her out of this world.”

  Maul let out an angry snort. “Did you know me? Did I ever do any
thing to you? No. But you still sent me off to do twenty-four years in prison.”

  Over the rain softly drumming on the metal roof of the carousel, Allison heard a faint ululation. Sirens. More than one. Ophelia had done what she could, had called the police. But they were too far away to do Allison any good. Maul’s head lifted a fraction and she could tell he heard them too.

  “But you robbed banks,” she said slowly, wondering how she could buy just a little more time. “Lindsay did nothing but dress in my clothes one day. She just wanted to impress the loan officer. But instead you killed her. Not me. Her.”

  “Don’t worry,” Maul said, and he lifted the gun so it again was pointed right at her heart. “I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  “Freeze!” a voice shouted. Allison and Maul both started, their heads whipping around.

  It was Nicole.

  Nicole.

  And while the maid’s uniform was soaking wet, it was with water, not blood.

  Nicole stood next to the carousel, her arms straight out in front of her, her Glock pointed right at Lucas Maul.

  Maul’s mouth fell open. “Why does this keep happening to me?” he said wonderingly. “Why aren’t you dead?”

  Allison lunged for his gun.

  And suddenly they were both grappling for it. She yanked it to one side and up, hoping to pull his finger out of the trigger guard. Nicole was shouting, and Allison also heard Ophelia’s voice. But she could only pay attention to Maul and what she knew would be a fight to the death.

  He elbowed her in the face, hard enough that fresh blood flooded her mouth as he smashed her lips. She did not slacken her grip on the gun. Instead she kicked him in the shins, wishing again for shoes. He twisted the gun until her wrist threatened to snap. She took a half step to one side, then drove her shoulder into his solar plexus.

  He grunted, the air going out in a whoosh. And suddenly Allison was the only one holding the gun. She turned and pressed it against his chest, right at his heart. Over his shoulder, she saw Nicole circling them, trying to find an angle that would let her shoot Maul without injuring her. But now Allison had the gun. Her face and Maul’s were just inches apart. His sharp breath was hot on her face. She had never been this close to another person without kissing them, but now all she wanted to do was kill.