Deadly Intent by Christiane Heggan Read Free Book Online Page A

had threatened to take him from Abbie was to get back at her for leaving him. Now that he had moved his law practice to Edison in northern New Jersey and had a girlfriend, he hardly came down to see Ben, preferring to talk to him on the phone or send him expensive presents.
    She could talk to Claudia. Wonderful, dependable Claudia, who had seen her through some tough times. And there was Brady, her perennial problem solver. The temptation to turn to both in this time of need was strong, but she resisted it. This was something she couldn’t afford to share with anyone—not even her two dearest friends.
    Come on, DiAngelo. She gave herself a mental shake. Snap out of this funk. You ‘we been in worse situations than this.
    Had she? Or was she just kidding herself?
    Pulling the bedspread over the sleeping boy, she bent down and kissed his forehead. Then, without a sound, she tiptoed out of the room.
    Back in her bedroom, where she had always felt so safe, the uneasy feeling she’d had since Ian had approached her refused to go away. It was as if her stepbrother’s bad karma had followed her home, impregnating the walls and threatening to engulf her.
    She took her mother’s letter from her purse and read it again. Irene’s spirits must have been at an all-time low that day, because the letter was raw with despair. “I feel trapped,” she had written. “If I leave Patrick, I’ll be left without a dime. If I stay, I may lose my sanity.” And then that last line. “There are times I look at him when he’s sleeping and all I want to do is kill him.
    Slowly, Abbie folded the letter and slid it way back into her nightstand drawer, under a stack of old pictures. Then,
    as if to reassure herself that she could protect those she loved, she walked over to the French armoire against the wall and opened it. The left side concealed a hanging rack that was filled with winter clothes, while the right side consisted of six shelves and four upper drawers. Only the top drawer was locked, its key hidden behind a stack of towels Abbie slid her hands into the hiding place, found the key and opened the top drawer. Her hand quickly found the gun.
    Even though it was not loaded and the ammunition was hidden under her mattress, the sensation of cold metal against her skin was at once reassuring and revolting. She hated guns. The only reason she had bought one was because Jack had threatened to take Ben from her.
    “No damn judge is going to keep me from being with my son,” he had told her outside the courthouse the morning of the court’s ruling on the custody case. “Do you hear me?”
    She had not only heard him, she had taken him very seriously. From the courthouse, she had gone straight to the police station and applied for a gun permit. Two weeks later, permit in hand, she had gone to a gun shop and taken a long look at the array of weapons in the display case. Sensing her indecision, the shop owner had recommended a 9 mm Walthers PPK. The German-made pistol was light yet sturdy and fitted her hand perfectly.
    Once she felt comfortable holding it, he had showed her how to remove the magazine, how to load it and how to work the slide. Then he had demonstrated how to release the safety so the gun was ready to fire. At that point, he had added, all she had to do was pull the trigger.
    Her next step had been to go to the firing range and learn to shoot the damn thing. She had been awful at first. And scared to death. But she hadn’t given up. returning to the
    range day after day until she was able to consistently hit the target. She had even surprised herself once or twice by hitting the bull’s eye.
    She let the PPK sit inside her palm for a moment, conscious of its weight, glad she could look at it without feeling as if it was going to bite her. When she felt calmer, she put it back, went through the ritual of locking the drawer and hiding the key, then closed the armoire.
    If anyone came after her or Ben, she was