I started down. As much as I didn’t relish being on the path alone, I needed to make sure she wasn’t in any trouble.
On the right, I spotted the first camp the clerk had referenced, boarded up for the season. But no sign of Lisa. The only sounds were the tremble of leaves high in the trees and the steady, urgent chirping of a solitary bird.
I kept moving, past the second camp, also closed, and finally, through the trees, I saw a sliver of lake. I could hear the water, too, lapping lightly and methodically against the shore. If Lisa was at the dock, I was close. I picked up speed, following the path along a large, shaggy outcropping of rock.
As it rounded the rock, I saw her, smack in the middle of the dirt path, her hair tucked up into a baseball cap and her back to me.
But it wasn’t Lisa. I realized that this woman, dressed in jeans and a quilted navy jacket, had darker hair flowing from beneath her baseball cap. At the sound of my footsteps, she spun halfway around and looked at me. To my complete shock, it was J. J. Rimes.
And she had a black gun in her hand. Pointed now in my direction. I didn’t know a whole lot about firearms, but I was pretty sure it was a mini Glock.
My breath froze in my chest and fear shot through mefast as the snap of a whip. “J.J.,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “What are you doing here?”
“What the fuck areyoudoing here?”
“I stayed at this motel for a few nights, and I—I’m looking for someone I met here. Are you in trouble?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she swiveled her body so it was square again with the area behind the outcropping and swept the Glock through the air so that it pointed in front of her. There was someone behind the rock, I realized. Someone she’d been aiming at before I arrived. I slowly shifted my hand until it reached my shoulder bag, ready to dig for my phone.
“Let me help, okay?” I said.
She scoffed, looking back at me. “What are you going to do? Make me a star on theCrime Beatwebsite?”
As her gaze flicked away from me again, I dragged one foot slightly forward, and then the other, shifting my position enough to see around the bend. Holy cow.
Doug Claiborne, dressed in a sport jacket and collared shirt, was standing on the other side of the rock, mouth agape, hands fisted. His eyes darted over and met mine. This was clearly some kind of showdown between the two of them, but how had they ended uphere? I let my eyes roam the area, hoping someone might spot us, but we seemed to have these woods to ourselves.
“Why don’t you put the gun away and tell me what happened?” I said as low-key as I could manage.
“Whathappened?” she barked. “This worthless dick was two-timing me. It takes a pretty big fucking ego to two-time the person you’re having anaffairwith.”
“J.J., please,” Doug pleaded, his voice husky with fear. “I thought you wanted to cool things with me. I don’t care about her; I don’t.”
“You expect me to believe that? You were holed up with that bitch for hours yesterday.”
Okay, pieces were speed-clicking into place, forming a story line that finally made rough sense. Doug was the guy with the Beemer who was sleeping with Lisa, and J.J. had figured it out. She was probably the one who’d been tailing Lisa around town. But where was Lisa now?
I knew I had to do something and do it fast. There was no way I’d have time to grab my phone without J.J. noticing. And it would be utterly stupid to try to wrestle the gun from her or knock her off her feet. My only recourse: try to talk her off the ledge.
“J.J., don’t do something you’ll end up regretting for the rest of your life,” I told her. “Please put the gun away.”
She snickered, bobbing the gun at Doug. “Trust me, I wouldn’t regret shooting him for a second. I’d sit in prison with a smile on my face every single minute of the day.”
“Prison is horrible,” I told her. “You wouldn’t want to be there.”
She shook her head slowly, my words not seeming to register.
“Listen to me, J.J.,” Doug said into the vacuum. “You know I’m crazy about you. I want to make this work.”
You freaking idiot, I thought. She’d have to have a brain the size of a fever blister to believe that crock of shit.
J.J. shook her head again and raised her arm so that the gun was directly aimed at Claiborne’s head. My panic wasstorming the barriers now. There was a chance she would take the shot, then turn the gun on me.
“J.J., you have to consider your kids,” I said, desperately playing one last card. “Think about what it would be like for them to have you in jail. All because of a loser like this.”
With utter relief, I watched her arm start to sag, and finally she lowered the gun to her side.
“She’s right. You aren’t worth the fucking bullet, Doug. Get the fuck out of my face.”
