Masters Of The Shadowlands 8 - If Only - Plot & Excerpts
Drew Somerfeld stopped on a rise, got out of his vehicle, and checked his back trail. The dirt hanging in the air was from the tires. The soughing wind ruffled the spruce and fir forest; a creek gurgled over rocks. All quiet—aside from the whimpering of the woman in the trunk. She must have been wakened by the bumpy road. He slapped the metal to shut her up and climbed back into his car. A half hour later, he pulled to a stop in front of the isolated cabin he’d bought for his twin. Best decision he’d ever made. His brother couldn’t cope with civilization, but he functioned fine if interactions were kept to only one or two people. No noise, no distractions. In the turmoil of a city—or mental institution—Ellis couldn’t cope. Here, he did very well, with an occasional outing to satisfy his obsession. Drew’s lips curled. He’d been quite clever to turn Ellis into the Association’s private executioner. On the rough excuse for a porch, his brother rose from the ugly chair he insisted on carting around wherever he went.
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