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time?” The man was laughing at him, the sickening sound of someone who knew what it was to murder and reveled in it. “Yes I can see you do. You dug her grave nice and deep with that little call, and ruined a great many lives in the process. You didn’t even manage to do anything to help yourself either, so I’d think twice before trying again.”
    His skin iced cold while his stomach wrenched itself into knots. “I remember. It will not happen again.” Another pause left the dread hanging in the air.
    “No, this time I’ll make sure it will matter to you.”
    Temper struck in full force when his tormentor scoffed at that young life lost. “It did matter. She didn’t deserve what you did to her.”
    “Take care not to raise your voice to me. I only have so much patience for fools. Your mother’s garden is nice this time of year. She plants something new every day...”
    Ryan sunk into the chair at the thought of losing his mother.
    “And your brother haunts those brooding cliffs that overlook the sea, sits for hours with a brush in hand and never paints a thing, just stares. Quite boring, that one, though according to my sources he maintains an interesting string of Irish lasses at his beck and call.”
    He’d known his family would be targeted if he tried to escape again.
    “But no, I don’t think I’ll have to go that far, will I? You’ve made things nice and tidy. Olivia is a beautiful woman. I won’t let her die easy. No, I think I will have my fill of her first. Can you see her begging for her death, Corrigan? You remember that, because her breath will be gone before I will grant her request for mercy.”
    Ryan could see the picture clear in his mind, her pretty dark hair soaked with blood, eyes staring blindly. He’d not be the cause of anyone’s death, never again. No, he’d do what he was told until death caught him, or God saw fit to save his miserable soul. “I won’t try anything. There’s no need to hurt her.”
    A reply didn’t come. The line had gone dead.
    One minute later, he picked up the receiver again.
    “Corrigan, you have a clear line.”
    He took a deep breath and prayed what he said wouldn’t kill someone he loved. Words hold so much power, he thought. “The drop went as planned. I have the lady. I’m supposed to hold the statue two weeks, then give it to the guy who picks it up.”
    “Good, keep to the plan. We’re going to get this guy.” Federal Agent Gabriel Spiller was a very goal-oriented type of man, and it was making his life hell.
    “He threatened my family. My sister’s staying with me, and I know he’ll make good on his threat. He has before. I want out!” Ryan shouted into the mouthpiece. “I know he ordered the hit on that cop, dead because of me.”
    “I don’t have to tell you how deep you’re in, too deep to back out now. This was your choice. I could have you doing time, but in exchange for your cooperation you’re a free man. As free as you’ll get until this is over. I couldn’t put guards on you or your sister or they’d know you’d been talking to the authorities. My hands are unfortunately tied. Get me something on him, and if you want your family to stay breathing, do it fast. That’s the only help I can give you. Follow his instructions, and mine.”
    The line went dead, again.
    * * * *
    Sleep wouldn’t come. Eyes that were so like another’s she’d just met haunted her dreams. Why couldn’t she get him out of her head? Liv had tried to work, but everywhere she turned in her mind, Jack was there.
    Macy’s story refused to flow from her mind and onto the screen. Liv thought she’d forever be caught in limbo. Screaming in the hands of a madman, with him poised on the brink of delivering the deathblow. No, the story would end eventually.
    She guessed the part of her mind that wrote wasn’t ready to end it. Did we ever really know the end of a tale? Or do those who we create in our minds go on forever in the ether of the unwritten