Hayley would come back eventually, Lizzy thought. She was certain of it.
Tommy had been driving for an hour on the highway when his phone rang. He hit Talk on the console.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“I’m on my way to your place. I’ll be there in another thirty minutes.”
“Did you see everyone?”
“I did. They’re all good. Nicholas is a great kid. He’s already so big. Lizzy looked happy.”
“I’m glad.”
After Hayley left Sacramento, six months had gone by without a word, but she finally made contact. Tommy had been certain she would, and he was right. He had seen her dozens of times since that first call. She had rented a tiny dilapidated cabin with a leaky roof in the Sierra Nevadas, a riverfront home on the South Yuba with turquoise water for miles and countless swimming holes.
He no longer tried to talk her into coming back to Sacramento. Although it had taken him a while, he finally understood she needed time to heal, time away from people and society.
Until she was ready, he would be the conduit between Hayley and the people she cared about. He would keep her updated, and he would spend as much time with her as she would allow. With Hayley, he would always be patient. All she had to do was call, and he would be there. She was sassy, maybe even badass, but she was loyal to the core, and she would always be his girl.
Lizzy put Nicholas to bed. Her son fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow, the puppy curled up next to him. No nighttime story necessary.
She walked out of the room and strolled out onto the front porch, where her gaze roamed over the area dotted with pines and oaks. She knew she would have to remain vigilant if she wanted to protect her son. Today had been a day of celebration, and Lizzy had felt about as carefree and relaxed as she ever would. She’d come to terms with knowing she would have to remain watchful and alert. Always.
Six months after Nicholas was born, Lizzy had received a letter from Zachary Tucker:
Dear Lizzy,
I was saddened to hear you quit the PI business. I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you since we met at the gallery downtown and then again at my beautiful waterfront home. Your niece, Brittany, is lovely, and I find it to be such a delightful coincidence that your niece and I share a passion for art. As I have been on my best behavior since arriving at my new residence, I have been given full access to the prison library. I have done my research, and I must say I find your fondness for serial killers to be a charming trait. I only wish I had checked you out more thoroughly while I had the freedom to do so. It is for this reason I am writing to you now. I appeal to you to please find it in your heart to visit me here in prison. If I do not hear from you or see you in the coming months, I would like to take this moment to wish you and your son, Nicholas, much happiness. I have absolute faith I will meet him someday, and see you and your beautiful niece again.
Until then,
ZT
Lizzy went back into the house and walked around, making sure every window and door was secure. After the alarm was set, she went to her bedroom, where she unlocked the fireproof steel door she’d had installed where the closet used to be.
Since the Wayne Bennett incident, she had stockpiled a few weapons: a Maverick 88 twelve-gauge shotgun, a Mossberg 500 twenty-gauge high-capacity pump-action shotgun, a Smith & Wesson Governor stainless-steel revolver with rifle barrel, a GLOCK 19 nonthrill handgun—so easy to fire—and her new favorite, a KRISS Vector with low recoil and fast follow-up shots and a twenty-five-round extended magazine.
She did a lot of practice shooting on the property. She was running again, too, pushing Nicholas in the stroller, and staying in shape.
Zachary Tucker’s letter was on the shelf next to the ammunition where she’d left it—her constant reminder that evil never dies.
She shut the solid steel door and then turned the dial, locking it tight.
“Come and visit me anytime, Zachary. I’ll be ready for you.”
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
After nearly twenty years, I decided to transition from writing romance to writing thrillers. I had always loved reading in the thriller genre, so I thought, why not give it a shot? After writing the first hundred pages of Abducted, I found myself unable to sleep well. Researching real-life serial killers was not, I realized, for the faint of heart. I put the book away and wrote Having My Baby, a contemporary romance, instead.
When I came back to Abducted, I found myself sucked into Lizzy’s world. Suddenly, nothing could stop me from finishing that book. Getting a good night’s sleep was no longer a problem because I realized my book wasn’t about serial killers, or bad guys, or rapists. The book was about Lizzy Gardner. She is a survivor. Although traumatized by her past, Lizzy is determined to push on and find a way to heal while also helping others.
Months after finishing Abducted, since the book had yet to be submitted to publishers, I self-published my first thriller. I never intended for Abducted to become a series, let alone a bestselling novel. But more than one million readers later, I can tell you that’s exactly what happened.
Evil Never Dies is the last book in this series (although you never know what might happen down the road). Lizzy and friends have been living in my head since 2009, and I have mixed emotions about saying good-bye to them. But I absolutely cannot move on to my next thriller series without saying thank you to my readers, every single one of you. You’re the best!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many thanks to Alan Turkus, Jacque Ben-Zekry, and Tiffany Pokorny for their ongoing help and support.
Special thanks to Kjersti Egerdahl for reading the manuscript and helping me every step of the way.
Again, much gratitude to David Downing for making my scenes come alive. I think you’re amazing!
Thanks and gratitude to my sister, Cathy, who continues to read every book I write. For more than twenty years, she has taken her red pen to all my manuscripts. She reads every page, over and over again, without complaint, always asking for more.
I must acknowledge Joe Ragan Sr. and Pat Ragan for their continued enthusiasm and support. Their belief in me throughout the years never wavered, not once.
All my love to Joe Ragan. I couldn’t do it without you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2012 Morgan Ragan
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Theresa Ragan grew up with four sisters in Lafayette, California. She has garnered six Golden Heart nominations in Romance Writers of America’s prestigious Golden Heart competition for her work. After writing for twenty years, Theresa self-published in March 2011 and went on to sell more than one million books. In 2012, she signed with Thomas & Mercer and is having the time of her life.
Besides writing thrillers under the name T.R. Ragan, Theresa also writes medieval time travels, contemporary romance, and romantic suspense. To learn more about Theresa, visit her website at www.theresaragan.com.