Chasing Lincoln's Killer Novels & Stories

Mary Lin softly whispered After seeing Mary Lin's retreating back, Duke Autumus sighed. The truth is he only told Mary half of the story. Even though the police caught the culprit who hit the car where Lilian and Quinlynn were in but the problem was the culprit turned crazy in his cell and killed himself. It was the same situation with the person who murdered Marquise Blaze and his wife. The photos he saw were gruesome and cruel for any average human eyes. Both of them died in a similar manner. He is afraid, one day they will come for his beloved daughter and his best friend’s child. Standing up from his desk, he slowly walked towards the huge French window. He looked up towards the night sk

“But shadows. Whoever brought them in knows how to cover tracks. Which is why I recommend we bring in a private investigator. Someone discreet. Someone who doesn’t leave footprints.” I let his words hang in the room for a moment before answering. “Then stop wasting time. Find one. Tell me what he charges, and I’ll pay it.” Lincoln gave a slight bow of the head. “Consider it done. I’ll call you as soon as I have a man.” “Good.” I rose from my chair. He followed suit, nervous hands brushing invisible dust from his jacket. I didn’t bother to shake his hand. “See you later, Lincoln,” I said, walking out of the chamber. My name still echoed in the corridors when the heavy door shut behind me.

Atticus held himself with pride as he said, “After I kill this person, your senior will come and heal your father. “The Allens will have a chance to shoot up to success by then! “The person who I was asked to kill is Hendrick Whitman from Clouspring’s Whitmans!” Lincoln’s gaze was fervent. “It’s the Whitmans…” He turned a little ecstatic. “I wish you victory, Atticus! Rowan and I will be off to kill Kayson Yarde then.” “Alright.” Atticus left breezily. Tuckson cried out incoherently. Lincoln could more or less make out what he was trying to say, but he assured his father, “Dad, don’t worry. Rowan is very skilled!”

Atticus held himself with pride as he said, “After I kill this person, your senior will come and heal your father. “The Allens will have a chance to shoot up to success by then! “The person who I was asked to kill is Hendrick Whitman from Clouspring’s Whitmans!” Lincoln’s gaze was fervent. “It’s the Whitmans…” He turned a little ecstatic. “I wish you victory, Atticus! Rowan and I will be off to kill Kayson Yarde then.” “Alright.” Atticus left breezily. Tuckson cried out incoherently. Lincoln could more or less make out what he was trying to say, but he assured his father, “Dad, don’t worry. Rowan is very skilled!”

The Ricci Family would move in and swallow our East Coast operations while we were busy bleeding out. Lincoln picked Vivian. Vivian had been envious of me for twenty years. Lincoln had been chasing her for years and knew the shape of what was inside her. All he did was take the fire that was already burning, and pour a can of gas on it. Lincoln got to the end. His forehead was streaming sweat, and he was begging for his life on repeat. Adrian hadn’t said a word. He took out the magazine, slid it back in slow, and chambered a round.

Lowering his head, he stated, "Sir, we've got to leave here as soon as possible. The police are investigating the scene John died" "Really?" I stood up, quite anxious. "Yes, sir. If we don't leave here soon, they might find a way to track our location." I glared, so annoyed. "Shit! Did you guys ensure to not leave a sign that we were there last night?" He nodded. "Okay." I hunched a sigh. "Since my house is far from here, they might not be able to get me. So, pack up now. We'll leave." "Okay, sir."

I got into the car, settling down, waiting for him to start the car engine. Soon, we are on the highway, driving back to the office, with a song playing in the background. The accident from earlier is still stuck in my mind. I don't want anyone to find out about it. That truck purposely aimed in my direction. There's no way the car lost its brakes and just went out of control. "Mr. Lincoln." I say, grabbing his attention. "Do you think that truck purposely tried to run us off the road?" He sighs, but says nothing. I don't know what's going through his mind. But all I can think of is that he's aware, he knows the truck came on purpose.

Nothing that gets me closer to the she-wolves, the pups, or the kidnappers. I make my way back to Finnegan and Caleb, hearing that they’re still talking to sheriff. Doesn’t seem to be going well for the human. He doesn’t know what kind of bear…or wolf…that he’s poking. I’m about a mile from them when the wind shifts and the sheriff’s scent hits me. It nearly stops me in my tracks before I burst out running. Frantically, I mindlink both Finnegan and Caleb, I scent the she-wolves and pups all over the town, but the point of origin, the most recent scent is coming off that man in front of you.

She did not dare look back or lose focus, fearing that any slight delay would alert Lincoln to their presence. However, the gunshot signaled that Lincoln had discovered what they were doing. The ship was filled with Lincoln's men who, upon learning of the intruders, rushed in their direction. Lincoln was the first to lead his men in pursuit of Tyler. Bang! The sound of gunfire was muffled by the pouring rain. Tyler reacted swiftly, cradling Vicky in his arms and evading quickly. A bullet struck the ground near Vicky's feet. Vicky had not even fully comprehended what was happening when Tyler pulled the trigger without hesitation, his gaze icy and resolute.

"Yeah. Lincoln shot me in the arm when I entered one of his buildings. I don't know why, but for one reason or another, he didn't finish me off. Instead, he patched me up and let me stay with him for a while." "So what happened," Bailey asks. "How did Lincoln dead? You mentioned something about bite marks?" Chuck stops sharpening his blade. He stays still for some time, just holding the machete and stone in his hands. Eventually, he places everything down and sighs. "Lincoln was bitten trying to get parts for your damn car," Chuck says, pointing a finger at me. "Why the hell do you think I'm so keen on giving it to you? Besides, I don't have any plan to travel."