Programmed for Peril

nasty reporters?” Carson asked.
    She groaned and shook her head. How totally gullible she had been!
    Carson reached forward with a star-spangled hand and lightly touched her face. She recoiled in loathing. “You’re so much as I remembered you, Queen of My Heart! The talent, the mental quickness. You almost caught us short earlier today when you realized that our snatching Melody would be your last straw. The plan was for Champ to grab her after school today. We had to change that. I phoned him while you were tidying up PC-Pros. He slipped the gas bomb into Stoneman’s car when he was inside Melody’s school.”
    Far from herself in physical or emotional balance, Trish sank into a shaky chair. She tore her eyes from Carson. “You... had me alone at least twice. Why—”
    “Did you feel the currents of desire between us?” The softness was gone from his voice now. Obsession tensed his muscular body. “The currents of desire... of destiny! You felt them, too, didn’t you? You can’t deny it.”
    “I was drawn to... Dino. Not you.” She sounded lame and stupid. One couldn’t argue with Carson.
    “I would have been yours again in a moment, Queen of My Heart. All you had to do was reach out your hand and touch me!”
    Her heart twisted over what she had nearly done, over her desire to do so. She despaired, knowing she would always be physically attracted to Carson Thomas, no matter that attraction’s lunacy. Was it fascination with evil?
    She sat before the two men a more complete and balanced woman than she had been when they first began their campaign to return her to Carson’s side. No matter. Carson’s madness, skill, and cunning had overmatched even the new, better her. All along her instincts had told her she had no chance. They had ranged, accurate as radar, ahead of her reason.
    On how many occasions had Carson appeared as her savior and counselor, the one rock upon which she could rely? Wasn’t that a trick of the devil, he of ten thousand faces? “You sat with me and the two cops after they switched Melody and me for doubles. You comforted me, told me not to worry. You made fools of them and me.”
    “Yes! And what fun it was! I teased you with a little hint when we parted. You missed it.”
    She stared at him.
    “You said we were parting with me in trouble with the law. And I said, ‘Story of my life.’ I was referring to California more than three years ago!”
    Trish shrugged. “Big deal.”
    “It is a big deal that at long, long last you’ve bowed to the inevitable. You’ve decided to join me.”
    She had been right to come here. He came to take her with him. She came to kill him. Through all the long, one-sided nightmare she had been deceived countless times. By coming here she had managed to deceive him only once. Once would be enough.
    Champ played at pretending this was a joyful occasion. He gleefully filled in the details of his obedient service to his brother. It dawned full force on Trish that his insanity outstripped even Carson’s. It was he who at his brother’s orders had smothered the three physicians and cut off body parts with pruning shears. Then he somehow tore open their daughters. All because they hadn’t been suitable replacements for her and Melody. He had shoved wires into the brains of three men. He showed no more remorse than a successful mouser.
    Melody slid off the bed and came to her. Trish pulled her onto her lap and pressed a damp face to her chest. “It’s okay, princess. No one’s going to hurt us.”
    As she spoke her eyes turned to Carson’s for confirmation. What she saw there chilled her. His glance was locked on Melody’s face. As though a switch had been thrown, his expression changed from distant amusement to a scowl of loathing.
    His face was terrifying to see.
    Trish tore her glance away. Her purse had ended up on the floor by the edge of the bed, watched over by dead Nicholas Smith-Patton’s bulging eyes. How could she retrieve it? Both men were cunning and suspicious. Possibly she wouldn’t have a chance to shoot Carson until they were on the road, rolling toward his imagined future.
    Champ moved toward the small closet. As he walked Trish saw his entire left side was stiff. She guessed that the wound from Tran’s bullet had turned ugly and gangrenous. But he was so strong it had only slowed him. He opened the door and came back with a white box. He brushed scraps of food and electronic parts off a low table and rested the box