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Twisted

Twisted

Titel: Twisted Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Jeffery Deaver
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Then . . .”
    “Yes?”
    “I’d wait for him.”
    “For Morgan? What were you going to do?”
    “Have it out with him once and for all. One-on-one, him and me. Oh, I don’t mean kill him. Just show him he wasn’t king of the universe. Allison begged me not to. She knew how dangerous he was. But I didn’t care. I knew he’d never leave us alone. He was the devil. He’d follow us forever if I didn’t stop him. She begged me to take her with me but I knew I couldn’t. She had to stay. It was so clear to me. See, Frank, that’s what love is, I think. Not being afraid to make a decision for someone else.”
    Manko, the rough-hewn philosopher.
    “I held her tight and told her not to worry. I told her how there wasn’t enough room in my heart for all the love I felt for her. We’d be together again soon.”
    “Was it safe there, you think?”
    “The cabin? Sure. Morgan’d never find it.”
    “It was in China Grove?”
    “Half hour away. On Badin Lake.”
    I laughed. “You’re kidding me?”
    “You know it?”
    “Sure I do. I used to go skinny-dipping there eons ago.” I nodded that it was a good choice. “Hard to spot those cabins on the western shore.”
    “It’s a damn pretty place too. You know, I was driving off and I looked back and I remember thinking how nice it’d be if that was our house and there Allison’d be in the doorway waiting for me to come home from work.”
    Manko rose and walked to the window. He gazed through his reflection into the wet night.
    “After I left I drove to a state road. I pulled right in front of them and made like I was heading back to her, but really leading the hounds off, you know. But they caught me . . . man, everybody. Cops, the security boys . . . and Morgan himself.
    “He stormed up to me, all pissed off, red in the face. He threatened me. And then he begged me to tell him where she was hiding. But I just looked back at him. I didn’t say a word. And all his bucks, all his thugs . . . nothing. Money’s power, sure, but so is love. I didn’t even have to fight him. He looked me in the eyes and he knew that I’d won. His daughter loved me, not him. Allison was safe. We’d be together, the two of us. We’d beat Thomas Morgan—tycoon, rich son of a bitch, and father of the most beautiful woman on earth. He just turned around and walked back to his limo. End of story.”
    Silence fell between us. It was nearly midnight and I’d been here for over three hours. I stretched. Manko paced slowly, his face aglow with anticipation. “You know, Frank, a lot of my life hasn’t gone the way I wanted it to. Allison’s either. But one thing we’ve got is our love. That makes everything okay.”
    “A transcendent love.”
    A ping sounded and I realized that Manko’d touched his cup to mine once again. We emptied them. He looked out the window into the black night. The rain had stopped and a faint moon was evident through the clouds. A distant clock started striking twelve. He smiled. “Time to go meet her, Frank.”
    A solid rap struck the door, which swung open suddenly. I was startled and stood.
    Manko turned calmly, the smile still on his face.
    “Evening, Tim,” said a man of about sixty. He wore a rumpled brown suit. From behind him several sets of eyes peered at Manko and me.
    It rankled me slightly to hear the given name. Manko’d always made it clear that he preferred his nickname and considered the use of Tim or Timothy an insult. But tonight he didn’t even notice; he smiled. There was silence for a moment as another man, wearing a pale blue uniform, stepped into the room with a tray, loaded it up with the dirty dishes.
    “Enjoy it, Manko?” he asked, nodding at the tray.
    “Ambrosia,” he said, lifting a wry eyebrow toward me.
    The older man nodded then took a blue-backed document from his suit jacket and opened it. Therewas a long pause. Then in a solemn Southern baritone he read, “Timothy Albert Mankowitz, in accordance with the sentence pronounced against you pursuant to your conviction for the kidnapping and murder of Allison Kimberly Morgan, I hereby serve upon you this death warrant issued by the governor of the State of North Carolina, to be effected at midnight this day.”
    The warden handed Manko the paper. He and his lawyer had already seen the faxed version from the court and tonight he merely glanced with boredom at the document. In his face I noted none of the stark befuddlement you almost always see

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