by B. J Daniels
“Last night, he’d agreed to leave today before the storm hit,” Will said. “If he’d known about it, he’d changed his mind.” He couldn’t help staring at her, remembering the girl she’d been—and the horrible teen he’d been. But here they were now. He felt his heart beat faster. No woman had ever made him feel like this. It terrified him. And after that kiss last night? He was completely enamored by her.
“Still no word from Huck?” she asked.
He shook his head as he got to his feet. She rose, too, no doubt thinking their “meeting” was over. He closed the distance between them. “I have a killer loose on the ranch and all I can think about is kissing you again and so much more.”
* * *
POPPY SMILED AS Will cupped her cheek in his large hand. In his dark eyes, she saw flecks of gold. Such kind eyes. So caring. So trusting. “I have a confession,” she said as she broke eye contact and stepped away from him. She couldn’t think clearly when he was touching her.
“A confession? If it’s murder—”
“It’s almost as bad,” she said, turning to face him. “Dorothea’s right. I did take the job so I could come back here to get even with you for breaking my heart all those years ago.”
His gaze softened. “I don’t blame you. If I could go back...” He looked miserable. “Dorothea said your plan was to put a spell on me with your bewitching cuisine.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “That was the plan.”
“Well, like I told you, it worked like a charm,” he said, taking a step toward her. “I’m completely taken with your cooking. But I suspect there’s more to your plan.”
“I was going to get you to fall in love with me. I wanted you to know what it felt like to have your heart ripped out of your chest.” He grimaced. “You were the first boy I fell for. I saw you as this adorable cowboy. All I wanted was for you to look at me like you did some of the girl guests who were closer to your age or older.”
“I know this won’t help, but those girls wanted nothing to do with me. I knew how you felt. Worse, my brothers knew. They teased me and I regret that I was embarrassed and didn’t know how to handle it. I handled it by pushing you away when anyone was around but you.”
Tears welled in her eyes. She remembered the heartbroken girl she’d been and that awful ache she’d felt not just in her chest, but in the pit of her stomach. One tear broke loose and cascaded down her cheek. Will closed the distance between them, catching the tear with the rough pad of his thumb. His voice dropped in a way that turned her center molten.
“That last day when you told me you were moving?” he said, his voice soft and low. “I’m sorry, but I was relieved. I wasn’t ready for you. I’m not sure I even am as a grown man. Poppy, you’re a force to be reckoned with. You always have been. You put yourself out there at twelve. You were so brave, wearing your heart on your sleeve. You terrified me. You still do.”
She shook her head as he pulled her closer.
“When you cried that day...” He looked away for a moment as if struggling with his emotions before meeting her gaze again. “It broke my heart, too. I felt so bad. I wanted to take it all back but it was too late. I was such a jerk at fifteen. So immature. Why didn’t you just slug me in the mouth and make yourself feel better?”
Her laugh came out more like a sob. “Oh, I thought about it.”
“It’s not too late,” he said and let go of her to tilt his head to the side. He pointed at his strong square jaw. “Just give me a good one, right there. Come on. A girl who tried to ride a wild stallion must have had quite a right hook. Bet you still do. Let me have it.”
She wiped her tears. “That’s just it. I no longer want to slug you.” Rising on her tiptoes, she kissed the handsome cowboy. It felt as if the two—the fifteen-year-old boy and the thirty-five-year-old cowboy—had melded together into the man standing before her.
He took her in his arms and held her tight as the kiss deepened. When they finally parted, he said, “I’m crazy about you, Poppy Carmichael. That’s what terrifies me. My heart is wide open to you. So if you want to rip it out and stomp on it, there is nothing I can do. Your plan worked.”
She shook her head. “No, it didn’t. It backfired. I never wanted to fall for you again, but it’s happening.”
Will laughed. “Our timing is terrible, but at this moment, I’ve never been happier. Or more worried about keeping you safe. When you’re out of my arms...”
“I guess I’ll have to spend as much time as I can in them,” she said and kissed him again.
They jerked apart at the sound of pounding feet approaching and someone calling Will’s name. A moment later the office door flew open. Dorothea burst in, wide-eyed with fear.
“There’s been another murder.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LAMAR RETURNED TO his cabin to find it empty. He had no idea where his brother had gone, but he was glad for a few minutes of privacy. He took the large manila envelope from beneath his coat and carried it over to the small desk.
There had to be a reason his father had hidden it. Also a reason why someone had turned his cabin upside down searching for it. He pulled out the contents and frowned as he thumbed through the papers.
It appeared to be nothing more than employee files. Not the originals because someone would have noticed they were missing. No, these were copies. He glanced in the envelope, thinking there had to be more. There was.
As he tilted the envelope, his father’s cell phone slid out with a bang on top of the desk. He picked it up and tried to open it, only to find it was passcode-protected. He tried a few dates. His father’s birthday, his brother’s, his own. Nothing worked. Maybe Mick would know it.
He pocketed the phone and began to go through the employee files, wondering what he was looking for. Why would his father have hidden this envelope the way he had unless there was something in here...?
Lamar heard someone try to open the door, then the scrape of a key. He quickly put the files back into the envelope and shoved them into the only handy place—the top drawer of the desk. He’d barely gotten the drawer closed when his brother came in out of the storm. Mick looked fearful and he seemed to be breathing hard.
“What is it?” Lamar asked, immediately concerned that something else had happened.
“Nothing. It’s just cold out there. If you haven’t noticed, it’s storming.”
“You sound out of breath,” he said, getting up. His brother seemed to be sweating as he jerked off his stocking cap and his gloves.
“If you must know, I ran up the hill from Allison’s cabin, all right?” Mick said, removing his coat as he headed for the bathroom.
“Is that blood?” Lamar asked, remembering his brother smashing the mirror and hoping for an explanation.
Mick turned and looked down at his right hand. His knuckles were scraped and bleeding. “Kind of looks like it, doesn’t it?”
“What the hell?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” With that he threw down his coat on his pile of clothes on top of his open suitcase in the second bedroom and went into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Lamar only had a moment to wonder what was going on with his brother when he saw Will wading through the drifting snow outside the cabin window, followed quickly behind by Poppy and Dorothea. Oh, hell, he thought as his pulse jumped. Something had happened.
He glanced toward the closed bathroom door and murmured under his breath, “Please don’t let this be about Mick.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WILL TRUDGED AS quickly as he could through the falling snow, Poppy and Dorothea at his heels. He’d wanted them to stay in the lodge, but they weren’t having it. Not that he could blame them. They wouldn’t be safer there alone, so he’d let them come with him.
He stopped at the entrance to the cabin. Poppy and Dorothea caught up as he put
his gloved hand on the doorknob, took a breath and opened the door. The smell hit him first. That coppery odor of blood that he knew only too well growing up on a ranch. They stepped just inside the door.
“Don’t touch anything,” he said, although he was sure that both women already knew that. He motioned for them to stay by the door. He could see Dorothea’s snowy tracks melting on the rug that covered the hardwood floor from when she’d entered the cabin only minutes ago after knocking at the door and not getting an answer. She’d come in with fresh towels, planning to pick up the soiled ones after she’d found a message that had been left for her at the lodge.
He stepped deeper into the room, following the tracks. As he came around the end of the bed, he saw a leg. It was bent at an odd angle. He took another step, saw the second leg and then the fully dressed body lying dead on the floor.
Lexi lay, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. A pool of blood had formed around her head like a halo.
Careful not to touch anything more than he had to, Will checked for a pulse, knowing he wasn’t going to find one. He didn’t. It was hard to know how long she’d been dead. He knew that rigor mortis usually set in from ten minutes to several hours after death. That was quite a window of time to try to track down where everyone had been.
He noticed that the lamp that had been on her desk lay beside her on the floor. There was blood on the lamp base. Like Big Jack, it appeared she’d been bludgeoned to death.
“Is she...?” Poppy said from just inside the door.
“She’s dead,” Dorothea said, her voice breaking. “Stone cold dead. Don’t you think I know dead when I see dead? Why would she leave me a message on the board at the lodge?”
Will rose and turned to them. “Clearly she didn’t. Someone wanted you to find her.” He shook his head. “Looks much like the way Big Jack died.”
“You think it was the same person, then?” Poppy asked.
Will shrugged. “Who knows? I would hope so. I would hate to think we have two separate killers on the ranch with us.” He moved to the thermostat on the wall and turned it off. In the bathroom, he turned up the heat and closed the door so the pipes didn’t freeze. With the storm and the temperature continuing to drop, it shouldn’t take long for the cabin to cool down and keep the body as best as was possible under the circumstances. He didn’t know what else to do.
“Do you see the notebook?” Poppy asked.
He frowned as he looked around. “No.” He moved to the desk. He was still wearing his gloves as he opened the top drawer and then checked the rest of the drawers. “Nothing.”
“So the killer must have taken it,” she said.
Will didn’t want to search the cabin further. He figured it would be difficult enough for the sheriff once he was able to get here.
“You’re going to have to tell the others,” Dorothea said. “You have to warn them.”
Will nodded. The other guests already knew that there was a killer among them. But she was right. There was no way to keep this a secret. “I will. But I don’t want either of you leaving the lodge again. Let’s go.” He locked the door behind him and they made their way toward the lodge through the driving snow. The huge flakes whipped through the air, sticking to everything they touched, and continued to pile up.
The wind had blown the snow into drifts that looked like ocean waves cresting next to the buildings. It had been a losing battle to keep a path from the cabins to the lodge with a good two feet of snow on the ground, the wind forming drifts that were even higher, and more snow was coming down. It could be days before help could get to them. He tried not to think about that. Or about how many more would die before this was over.
As they passed cabin one, Lamar opened his door and looked out at them. He looked worried. He should be, Will thought. They all should be.
* * *
LAMAR HEARD THE shower come on in the bathroom as he shut the door. He’d seen Will’s solemn face. Something bad had happened. He turned to look at the closed bathroom door. His brother was taking a shower? He thought about Mick’s skinned knuckles and swore under his breath. Could this get any worse?
Unfortunately, he knew it could. He glanced toward the desk drawer where he’d put the manila envelope, anxious to study the employee files further. There had to be something in there of interest to his father. Something worth hiding. A clue as to who might be stealing from the company? Who might be running drugs out the back door? Who might be a killer?
Stepping to the bathroom door, he tried it. Locked. He shook his head. His brother was acting guilty as hell. “Mick?” he called through the door. “Mick!”
“What? I’m taking a shower,” his brother called back irritably.
“Do you know Dad’s passcode for his phone?”
No answer. “Did you hear me?”
“No, why would I know it?”
He heard the shower curtain draw closed again. A heartbeat later, the lodge dinner bell began to ring. Lamar glanced at the clock on the wall. It was too early for lunch. He’d been right. Something had happened.
“There’s a problem. Will’s ringing the bell,” he called through the door. “I’m going up to the lodge.” He picked up his coat, heard the shower shut off and hurriedly stepped to the desk to withdraw the envelope. Stepping into his bedroom, he slipped it under the mattress on his bed. As he shrugged on his coat, his brother came out wearing nothing but a towel.
Lamar couldn’t miss the deep scratch on his brother’s neck that went down almost to his chest.
The bell was still ringing.
“I think we’re wanted at the lodge,” he told his brother as fear nipped at him. “You should hurry and change.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m tired. Whatever it is, you can come back and tell me.” He stepped into his bedroom, pulled back the covers and started to climb into his bed.
“You’re scaring me.”
Mick made a face. “I’m tired, all right? I just want to be left alone.”
“How did you skin up your hand and get that scratch on your neck?”
His brother touched the gouge on his neck and grimaced. “I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Mick, there’s a murderer loose up here on this mountain. If you—”
“I got in a fight with Allison, all right? She scratched me, and before you ask, I didn’t touch her. I slugged the wall. It hurt like hell. Happy?” He rolled over, pulling the down comforter up. All Lamar could see was his brother’s wet curly hair, dark against the pillow.
He thought about what his brother had told him, wondering if any of it was true. “You know if you’re in trouble, I’ll do what I can to help you,” he said.
There was no response from the bed.
* * *
POPPY STOOD WITH her back to the fireplace, but the heat did little to warm her.
Will was out in the storm ringing the dinner bell. Dorothea was busy lighting green candles and waving sage around. She’d already emptied two saltshakers along the threshold of the front door and another one along the back door that was kept locked except when there was a dance.
“You’re wasting salt,” Poppy said without much enthusiasm. “Lexi had salt by her door threshold. It didn’t help.”
The older woman mugged a face at her. “Better to do nothing like you?”
“You have a point. But what would you like me to do?”
Dorothea came over to her. “What’s this about a notebook?”
“When I dropped by to see Lexi earlier, she was busy writing in a notebook. It was something she didn’t want me to see.”
“She was alive when you left?”
Poppy gave her a disbelieving look. “Of course.”
“Why would you visit her?” Dorothea asked, but they were interrupted as the guests began to stream in. Ruby was the first one in, foll
owed by Dean, Lamar, Channing and Allison. They all seemed confused and worried. Allison looked as if she’d been crying. Her eyes were red and her mascara was smeared.
Will quit ringing the bell and followed them in. He looked around the room and asked, “Where is Mick?”
“He’s taking a nap,” his brother said.
For a moment, Will seemed as if he was going to send Lamar back to his cabin to get him, but apparently he changed his mind.
“If you would all please sit down,” he said. “I have some bad news.”
They sat hesitantly, none of them acting chummy, Poppy noted.
“There’s been another murder,” Will said. “It’s Lexi.”
“What?” Dean demanded and looked around at the others as if he wanted to run out of the room. Allison had let out a cry, more like a whimper, before hugging herself.
Channing sighed and said, “I guess Kirk was the smart one leaving when he did.”
Ruby remained quiet, but she leaned forward to put her face in her hands.
“I’m going to need to know where you have all been since breakfast,” Will said as he motioned to the notepaper and pens still on the large square coffee table.
“This is getting ridiculous,” Dean said. “I was in my cabin with the door locked.” He looked around the table. “What about Mick?”
“I’ll talk to him when he wakes up,” Will said.
Dean snatched up a piece of paper and pen and began to write on it, mumbling, “This is a waste of time.”
“Don’t forget to sign and date your alibis,” Will said and stood watching as each finally did as he’d asked, but with obvious reluctance.
“What about them?” Dean demanded, jabbing a finger in Poppy’s and Dorothea’s direction as he tossed his paper into the basket.
“Don’t worry,” Will assured him. “We’ll all fill them out.”
“Yes, what if it isn’t one of us?” Channing said. “What if it’s one of you?” Her gaze settled on Poppy. “I saw you coming out of Lexi’s cabin earlier.”
