Colby Justice

Author:Debra Webb [Webb, Debra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Private Investigators, Man-Woman Relationships, Contemporary, General, Romance, Suspense, Fiction, Rescues
ISBN: 9780373694617
Google: SKQhT9mccIoC
Goodreads: 7806169
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1978-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Inside the Colby Agency, 1:45 p.m.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself, Mr. Clark?” Thorp demanded.

The man seated across the table from Victoria cocked his head to glare at Thorp. “Ain’t you gonna ask me the real question you want to know the answer to?” Clark said.

Victoria’s pulse jumped. Every exhausted muscle in her body tightened with a new burst of tension. They had been doing this for more than two hours. No one had been allowed to drink, there was no food and scarcely a bathroom break. How much longer could this go on until someone snapped? She stole a glance at Gordon. His pale face remained damp with sweat. He, she suspected, would be the first to break.

For a time Thorp only stared at Clark, his expression filled with sheer hatred and animosity. “I know what you did to her. I had to identify the body. My wife could not look at the horrors done to her only child.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Clark mused, “I didn’t enjoy killing her.”

Someone had to stop this. Victoria looked to Gordon. Was there nothing he could do? But Gordon was mentally absent for all intents and purposes. The fear and resignation on his face told the tale.

Victoria was on her own.

Fury contorting his face, Thorp started to speak, but Victoria cut him off. “I’m certain that is not the answer Mr. Thorp is looking for. I doubt any excuse you provide will be sufficient, Mr. Clark.” Was he intentionally trying to antagonize the man who held his life in his hands? Evidently so.

Clark shrugged. “I’m dead anyway, ain’t I?”

“Why?” The single word came from Thorp. The agony in that one syllable and now etched across his face tore at Victoria’s heart.

“Because she saw something she should’ve kept her mouth shut about,” Clark explained as nonchalantly as if he were forecasting a seasonable weather report. “I told her what would happen if she ran off at the mouth. She didn’t listen.”

Victoria knew the rest of the story. Patricia Henshaw went to the police. Then she disappeared. Her tortured and mutilated body was found four days later.

“She was a slut,” Clark announced. “One with a bad drug habit who couldn’t keep her trap shut.”

Something in Thorp’s demeanor changed. Gone was the misery and weariness. His expression reflected one thing now—determination. “Kill him.”

“Wait!” Victoria launched to her feet, fought the dizziness. “This isn’t over.” She glanced at the muzzle boring into Clark’s head, then to Thorp. “Justice won’t be fully served until you’ve heard how and why your daughter’s murder case failed.”

Thorp’s jaw tightened visibly. “We’ll hear that from Gordon.” He stared down the length of the table at the former D.A. “That’s next on the agenda. After Clark is dead.”

The terrorist behind Clark jammed his weapon into his temple.

“But,” Victoria urged, desperation pushing her, “if you kill Clark now, you’ll only hear Gordon’s side of the story. There will be no one to confirm that he’s telling the truth.

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