“We’re just going to try and get some clues, maybe a confession that we can present with more evidence. We’ll make her think we’re asking about someone else killing Taylor Grace. Make her think she’s home free.” Willow outlines the plan.
We step out of the car. The trees rise high into the cold winter morning. It’s going to be a tall order to find anyone out here.
“Think it will work?” I stare up at the ancient forest.
“We have to try.”
“Or we could go back home, and I can make a winter wonderland up your—”
“Shh!”
Our footfalls are muffled in the early-morning snow. I love walking in the woods in winter, when it’s peaceful and beautiful, but today? It feels sinister, like we’re being watched.
Suddenly, there’s a loud crack of a gun firing. Beside me, Willow lets out a cry, jerks, and falls face-first to the ground.
25
WILLOW
“Willow! Shit, someone’s shooting at us!” Hughes is frantic.
“Really!” I cry. “That’s what that was?” I roll over. “I thought it was my ankle when I tripped over that branch.” I reach for it. It doesn’t feel broken.
“Holy hell.” Hughes scoops me up into his arms and cradles me against his chest. “Don’t ever scare me like that. I can’t lose you.”
“Because I’m your partner in crime-solving?” I joke.
He kisses me softly. “Yeah, something like that.”
Snow and ice-laden branches creak. Someone is coming.
Hughes crouches over me, sheltering me with his broad chest and shoulders as the dark figure approaches us.
“Maris!” I gasp when the elegant, svelte woman appears out of the trees.
She frowns at us. “You two need to be careful out here. You could have been hurt. There are hunters out, and not everyone is as good of a shot as I am. Next time, wear high-vis clothing.”
“Guess I should have worn the red coat,” Hughes jokes painfully.
Maris does not smile.
“Okay, she’s definitely the murderer,”I say, teeth chattering when we climb back into Hughes’s cold car.
He cranks up the heat.
“I didn’t ask her my questions.”
“She knows we know. She knows, and she had a big gun. We need to count ourselves lucky we got out of there.” Hughes takes my hands in his and rubs them.
“We don’t have evidence for the cops. We have to go back.”
“We’ll just take them what we have.” Hughes pulls out onto the road.
“She’ll get away.” I look out the rear window, wondering if I’ll see her there.
“If we go to the cops and tell them about everything very loudly in the lobby, then the whole town will know by dinnertime that you didn’t kill Taylor Grace or Dr. Merriweather, and isn’t that what’s really important?”
“I mean, I guess.”
