—Tim
I shuddered and checked the back seat, even though no one could hide there. Tears welled up in my eyes. Tim must’ve been killed because of what he knew. Wickham and I were either the next targets or being set up. Either way, it was too much.
I backed the Jeep up and aimed to leave, but my wheels slipped a few times. Though I’d driven in snow for years, the layers of silky powder still made me nervous. I navigated the parking lot at painfully slow speeds. As I approached the exit, a blue sports car swerved in front of me, barely missing my front bumper. I slammed on my horn and brakes and glared at the driver.
It was the person in the red wig, but I still couldn’t see their face.
A smarter person would have immediately memorized the license plate, but it took a moment for the shock to wear off. Their screeching tires produced aspray of snow, obscuring my view. All I saw before they got away were the lettersAJ. But they had Maine plates.
My hands shook as I navigated the icy road to the police station. It was eleven a.m., and they’d kept Wickham for hours. I didn’t know how else they expected him to leave. It’s not like catching a cab was an option at Sky Powder Resort, especially during this weather.
My tires spun a few times, and the Jeep slipped as I turned into the police station parking lot, but I didn’t hit anything. Hopefully.
Inside the station, I stomped the snow off my boots and found a drowsy officer manning the front desk. “Hi, I’m here for my husband, George Wickham.”
A tiny thrill of adrenaline shot through me as I spoke of Wickham as my spouse. Not that it really felt like we were married yet. We needed to figure out what we were going to do. We’d have to move in together, I supposed.Right?I guessed it would be weird if we didn’t. I’d really upended my whole world without much consideration.
The sleepy officer blinked at me, processing my words. Then he called back to a colleague, “George Wickham’s wife is here. He can go.”
George Wickham’s wife . . . me.
Wickham sheepishly emerged from a back room, still in his blazer from the ceremony. His hair was disheveled, and a pink mark on his cheek indicated he'd been sleeping on a hard surface.
“Lydia, thank goodness.” Wickham wrapped his arms around me. “How’ve you been? Did you get any rest?”
“A little.” Then I whispered in his ear. “I learned a few things too. But I’ll tell you about that later.”
Wickham and I left the station arm in arm and hugged in the parking lot for several minutes before getting in the car. I didn’t realize until that moment how much I’d missed him.
Wickham was most familiar with his Jeep, so he took a turn driving, skillfully navigating the snow-covered mountain roads back to the resort since trying to drive home was out of the question.
“So we got married. Can you believe it?” Wickham took his eyes away from the road for a second to give me a soft grin. “What an adventure this had turned into.”
“The dust hasn’t settled yet. The more I think about it, the more I realize how much my parents are going to freak out... Well, my mom anyway. My dad’s too sick to get worked up overanything.”
“Do you have any regrets?” Wickham chewed his bottom lip.
“No.” I ran my hand down his arm, not wanting to ask the same question of him for fear he might regret our choice to marry. “I’m not sure how to navigate things with my family.”
His brow crunched, and he squinted as streams of sunlight hit his eyes. “We can keep it between us for now. It’s better not to make a big announcement.”
“Well, I did tell Kitty, so it may be too late for all that. I feel like if we can solve your bandmates’ murders, it will be easier to move the focus to our relationship.” My brain felt like it was splitting in two.. .the murders... our marriage. I didn’t like the connection.
“Hmm,” Wickham grunted, tightly gripping the steering wheel.
It wasn’t the reassuring answer I wanted, but I didn’t blame him. We were certainly in strange territory. I gave up on relationship talk for the time being. “You might want to read the note I put in the glove box. It’s from Tim.”
“Tim left a note?” Wickham was stunned. He pulled into the lodge’s lot, parked the Jeep, and took out thenote. “Oh, this is horrible! Why did he... Tim’s such nice guy, but... ugh! Why on earth didn’t he contact the police or talk to me? Or borrow a landline? Wow.”
“Maybe he knew the killer and didn’t want them to get in trouble. Or he wasn’t sure if they were guilty. Unless he really enjoyed playing the hero. What do you think?” I released a long breath, tired of guessing and wondering.
“It may be any of those things, but I can see how he’d want to protect a friend. Tim was incredibly loyal, almost to the point that it was annoying. Not that someone would want to kill him for being annoying. But he was intense.” Wickham explained. He turned off the ignition and leaned back in the driver’s seat. "I wonder why he mentioned a ring."
I wasn’t only looking at a guy with a well-defined jaw and nice hair. The man beside me was a vampire, strong, fast, beautiful, and my husband. I wanted his attention to be on us, not this tragedy. “Well, for now, we need to see if we canseethe person in the wig’s face. I’m going to be honest, there was a groupie in some photos online with Alex, and I suspect her. But if not, I think it has to be Harley or Zoe. Maybe one of them bought the Celticring for him.”
He didn’t like my comment, and scowled. “What makes you say that? The police let a concern slip. They're worried that since I'm looking innocent, there may be a killer stalking the band."
“The person in the wig is obviously female and connected to the band, and Tim didn’t immediately call them out—so it was probably someone he thought he could trust.” I wasn’t sure why I was hesitant to tell Wickham about my adventure the night before. He obviously wanted me to be safe, and I supposed my actions were a bit reckless. A few snowflakes fluttered from the sky as we walked to our cabin.
