Chapter Eighty-Two

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Chapter Eighty-Two

 

Lake City, LA

 

Randy was pleased with himself. Since he put on the hood, he’d been quite productive for someone with a bullet hole in his neck. He was tying up the loose ends very nicely–the first of which had been the cop. After shooting him in the back and watching him fall into the lake, Randy came back inside to find the black bastard with his daughter.

If he’d had more time he would have killed the boy. As it was, he left him bound and gagged in the living room and retired Karen to her bedroom, making a mental note to personally inspect her feminine parts later to make sure there’d been no tampering. Then he moved the cop’s car.

Another vehicle pulled into the driveway. Randy cut the lights and found a place where he could see, but not be seen. What he saw made him drunk with bloodlust.

Lincoln Baker was carrying his wife’s corpse toward the house.

Not only had his son’s killer kidnapped Karen, he had murdered Coral as well? The man’s gall was dizzying. To think, Randy had nearly ended his own life–believing the situation unsalvageable. No wonder Joseph had called him weak. Randy visualized the headlines he’d narrowly avoided: Louisiana Governor Commits Suicide After Murdering Wife and Child.

Tears welled in his eyes at the very idea, but Randy contained his emotions. This was not the time. His second chance at redemption was here and he did not intend to let this opportunity go to waste. Randy couldn’t believe his luck—that jungle monkey Baker had walked right into his own funeral. Randy felt a smug sense of satisfaction as he pressed the gun to the back of Baker’s head. It took all his strength to resist pulling the trigger.

No, not yet. Everything has to be right.

Randy experienced a moment of confused disappointment when he realized Coral was still alive. She was just going to get in the way, as usual. But he’d have to deal with her later; it was time to get on with the show.

Randy turned the power back on. The first thing he saw after his eyes adjusted to the brilliant light was his father’s portrait above the fireplace. He stared into his father’s stern blue eyes and for the first time in his life, he felt his father’s approval.

Kristopher should have been here for this.

But because of the bastard sitting on the floor before him, he wasn’t. Striding across the great room, Randy projected all his rage, loss, and anger toward Lincoln Baker.

* * * * *

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