Allison Brennan - Prison Break Trilogy 02 - Tempting Evil

CONTENTS

For my grandpas, Milton Turner and Karl Hoffman.
Both men of few words and big hearts.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am grateful to the many people who helped with the research of this book to make the story as authentic as possible. Any errors are mine alone.

Dorothy Stout, volunteer with the Beaverhead County Museum, who helped me understand the geography and history of the county and Centennial Valley in particular; Jenna Petersen, aka Jess Michaels, who had the key to the story when I was stumped; Mike Anderson with California Custom Trailer & Power Rides; Caroline at Squaw Valley Ski Resort; Steven Dupre with the Sacramento FBI Field Office; and especially Lerrina Collins with the Elk Lake Resort in Montana, who went above and beyond in sharing her experience of living in the beautiful Centennial Valley.

My husband, my mom, and my kids all stepped up to the plate once again to give me more time to write when my deadline loomed; my editor Charlotte Herscher who always sees the big picture before I do; the incredible people at Ballantine who do so much more than I can mention in a page; and my agent, Kim Whalen, who says she loves everything I write, even the messy first drafts.

I hope youll enjoy this story as much as I loved writing it. Please visit my website, www.allisonbrennan.com, to learn more about the ideas behind Tempting Evil and the rest of the Prison Break trilogy, to sign up for my newsletter, or how to visit me at MySpace.

PROLOGUE

Eighteen months ago

I should have killed the bitch when I had the chance.

Aaron Doherty wanted to tell Linc to shut up. Instead, he ignored him. No confrontations until he was ready. He wasnt about to blow his only chance.

It was almost time.

August was the only time San Quentin State Prison lost its dank, musty drenched-dog odor. The hot, stagnant salty air couldnt mask the foul stench of old urine and sweat, but at least Aaron wasnt cold.

Shit, Doherty, put the fucking book down.

He didnt respond. Dont let him goad you. He turned the page, wishing brick rather than bars separated the cells.

I cant believe youre reading that crap. Shes a bigger fucking bitch than her sister. You should have heard her on the stand. Like I hunted down Trix! We could have worked it out. We would have, if it wasnt for her.

You killed her husband and son. Aaron hadnt meant to say anything, but Linc was pissing him off.

I told you how it was. I didnt mean to kill the kid. I have a kid of my own, I dont hurt kids. Its not like Im a damn pervert like Monroe.

Shut the fuck up! Monroe shouted from the cell on the other side of Linc.

The buzzer rang loud in the prison, the announcement for dinner. Like trained rats, they lined up by their cell doors and waited for the electronic lock to be released.

Aarons heart raced. The time had come!

Aaron walked behind Linc along the catwalk. He didnt look any of the other prisoners in the eye. They shuffled along, sweating, not talking. The slop they served was barely edible, but it was food and missing a meal was worse than eating the crap, so they stayed in order.

The shiv passed up through the line and landed in Aarons hand. Hed had to call in favors and pay off a half-dozen people to set this up. What theyd do for a few smokes. Theyd heard the rumor of a new directive coming down, that the prison authority was going to ban smoking. Everyone was hoarding, and Aaron had the best stash for nowhe hid his allotment because he didnt smoke, couldnt stand the stuff.

Aaron hid the sharp, deadly, handmade wood shiv up his shirt. He waited for the signal. Calm.

It happened just as they were carrying their trays from the line to the table.

Dont touch me, faggot!

The ruckus came from across the room. Aaron didnt look, didnt comment, as he walked by Linc, tray balanced on one hand, and jammed the shiv just below Lincs sternum.

Aaron kept walking.

He learned later that hed pierced Lincs lung. That was why the bastard couldnt scream.

No one noticed Linc lying there on the floor until after the confrontation on the far side of the dining hall had dissipated.

Then chaos.

By that time, Aaron was eating four tables away, mentally composing a letter to his one true love, a letter he would never write, much less mail.

Dearest Joanna:

Tonight I killed Lincoln Barnes for you. He was a vile man, trash, and I am saddened that his brutality hurt you.

Tonight, justice was served. In the name of love, I killed for you. You deserve nothing less.

We cant be together now, but I have at least one more appeal. Maybe youll visit me. I love you and I miss you.

Love Always,
Aaron

ONE

Twenty-four hours ago

Aaron Doherty caressed the worn, full-page picture hed cut from a magazine article more than a year ago.

Joanna.

His love was beautiful: blonde hair woven with gold, large, round chocolate eyes, and two deep dimples that he suspected revealed themselves even when she wasnt smiling. He couldnt wait to touch her, her smooth, fair skin, skim his fingers over her red lips, kiss her.

Joannas beauty was just part of her attraction. She was the only woman in the world who truly understood him. And when they finally met in the flesh for the first time, shed know instantly that Aaron was her true love.

Just like he knew when he first saw her picture two years ago. When he read her books. When he learned everything about her.

When he killed for her.

They were soul mates. Every word she wrote, she crafted for him. Every story she told, she told just for him. Like in Act Naturally.

He pulled the battered book from his backpack. Hed stolen it from a library last week, shortly after the quake and their escape. It had physically pained him to leave all his Joanna Sutton books behind in his cell, but he didnt have a choice. The earthquake had hit when his cell block inmates were on the exercise yard at San Quentin State Prison. Hed been standing alone thinking (of course) about Joanna. Doug Chapman was only a couple of feet away sneaking a smokemuch easier when it was so cold you could see your breathand then the ground shook. Aaron had lived in California for years, but never realized how loud earthquakes were when you were at the epicenter. He and Doug saw the breach in the wall and they went over it as soon as they could move. No looking back, no stopping when the guards shouted. Aaron watched one of his fellow prisoners, a cold bastard named Theodore Glenn, kill one of the injured guards. Still, he kept going.

Aaron knew immediately where he was headed. Montana. To be with Joanna.

Hed taken three of her paperback novels from the library because they didnt have the security sensors in the spine and he could easily hide them in his jacket. He wished he had more.

He opened it to one of the many underlined passages. Hed read the book twice since the escape last week. It made this time moving from one filthy motel room to another more bearable.

She swung her legs just enough to make the porch swing move, then tucked them beneath her, the easy rocking of the old chair comforting her. Was Garrett thinking of her? Thinking of her over thousands of miles, in the desert, serving his country. Being the hero shed always known he could be.

Grace took the newspaper article from her pocket. It was worn and torn from being carried everywhere, but she couldnt bear to part with it. Front-page headline: