By Patricia Gussin
One is the loneliest number.Nine years in the past, Katie and Scott Monroe have been blessed past their wildest goals with exact triplets, Sammie, Alex, and Jackie. 3 attractive daughters and adoring mom and dad shaped the picture-perfect celebration of 5. yet this tight-knit relations unravels whilst the 3 little women visit see a film, yet just one emerges from the darkness of the theatre. How might Sammie and Alex vanish with out a trace?Plunged into the abyss of a parent's worst worry, Katie and Scott grasp by means of a thread-waiting, being concerned, no longer realizing, and confronting the terrifying attention that the abduction won't were a random act.Who took Sammie and Alex? Why? the place are they? while will they be came upon? And what if they're by no means chanced on, or no longer discovered alive? whilst Jackie, the remainder triplet, crumbles lower than the load of grief and survivor's guilt, Katie and Scott fight to carry out desire and carry directly to what is still in their family.Until-or unless-Sammie and Alex are stumbled on secure, this picture-perfect relatives cannot be positioned again jointly back.
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Extra resources for And Then There Was One
Pictures of the Monroe girls were being circulated. The parking lots and the surrounding commercial areas were being canvassed. The media had gotten wind of the story and the mall was under the siege of camcorders, bright lights, reporters on alert. Nothing had gone out on the six o’clock news, but if the girls were not located within the next half hour, Early News at Ten would lead with the story. Clarence Plummer, director of mall security, had hit the panic button early, and as it turned out, appropriately so.
I’ll charter a plane. ” “Let’s just hope they’re wandering the mall,” Lucy said, but Scott had already disconnected. Lucy Jones jerked to attention when the heavyset man in a rumpled brown suit barged into the cramped mall security office. She still gripped the phone on the desk with one hand while holding onto her granddaughter, Jackie, trembling at her side. Her other granddaughter, Danielle, stood back, her slim shoulders slumped, her head bent into tented hands. “Clarence Plummer,” the man announced.
With a jerk, he disconnected the phone, planning to bury his head back under the blanket, when he stopped. Was that the doorbell? Maxwell kept a pair of velour shorts at the foot of the bed. Hesitating long enough to make sure he was not hearing things, he slipped out of bed, donned the shorts, grabbed a robe, and headed for the front door. By then the pleasant ring of the bell was accompanied by insistent pounding. What the heck? Should he answer it or call the police? ” settled his dilemma. What the fuck was going on?