Abigail’s green and blue eyes darkened. “He wasn’t your father, you idiot. He was mine. And hers. Zeke Caine was an evil bastard.” Her face cleared. “But I did not kill him. Unlike you, I’m not a killer.”
Robert’s laugh was grating. Pained. His breath was heated at Laurel’s ear. “How can you say that? Do you believe it?” He cocked his head to the side, his beard brushing the top of Laurel’s head. “Are you so completely fucked up that you believe your own lies? Or do you just need your new little sister here to believe you?”
Abigail shook her head, her auburn hair flying. “You’re sick, Robert. Let us get you help.”
“Oh, you’ve already helped me,” Robert said grimly. Laurel worked one hand out of the rope. If he would just move the knife a little to the right, she could get her arm between his wrist and her face.
Abigail didn’t seem to notice her movement. “I didn’t blame Father for trying to help you hide your crimes. You didn’t mean to kill those animals, did you?”
“Abby,” Robert breathed, the sound full of pain. “That’s asecret.”
“I know. I obeyed Father and kept your secrets, even when you got caught peeking into women’s homes and stealing their panties. You’re sick.” Her teeth flashed. “The father you want to know, Laurel, he hid these crimes and used his influence as a pastor to protect Robert.” Her eyes gleamed. “Even from an accusation of attempted rape when he was fifteen. Dad bought the girl’s family off that time.”
Robert’s body shook behind Laurel. “None of that is true. It wasn’t my fault. Father understood.”
Abigail’s nostrils flared. “But you screwed up here, brother. You tried to kill Laurel, Robert. You shot at her twice. Why would you do that? Hurt what ismine?” Her face contorted, already red from the cold.
Robert gripped Laurel’s hip and pressed the blade hard enough against her neck to draw blood. His gun dug into the middle of her back, still stuck in his waistband, but she couldn’t get a good angle to grab it. “You hurt what was mine when you killed my father. I knew what would happen. The second I saw her, saw what she looked like, knew who she was, I knew you’d throw me over for her, Abby. Your blood sister.I knew. You’d tell on me or make me stop my hobby, and I couldn’t do that. I need my birds. I knew what you’d do, and I had to stop you. If she wasn’t here, things could go back to the way they were. You and me together. Doing what we do.”
Laurel kept her breathing steady. “Why did you take the cemetery truck, Robert?”
He chuckled. “I’m friends with the sheriff, and I knew your uncle was on everyone’s radar. It seemed like a smart thing to do, and besides, it’s a good truck. It took you off the road twice.”
Abigail lowered her chin and pointed the gun over Laurel’s shoulder. “Let her go, Robert.”
“Why?” He laughed and the sound echoed through the trees silently, bearing witness to the painful drama. “You think she could love somebody like you? That she’ll be your real sister? Oh, Abby. If she only had an idea of what you’ve done. She knows about the dog’s fur. She knows that you took it and gave it to me to frame her lover. The guy who rejected you, right? Oh, you couldn’t have a mere man between you. Laurel has no idea what you’ll do to family.”
Abigail’s mouth twitched. “Why, Robert. I think you’re batshit crazy. You’re a serial killer, brother. You lie to everyone and pretend to be normal.”
“You should know,” Robert said, his fingers digging into Laurel’s hip. “You lie more than I do but you don’t know you’re lying. At least I know exactly what I am.”
Laurel stiffened, just waiting for a chance. An opening. If Abigail could keep him talking, keep getting him angry, she might get that chance. “What is Abigail, Robert?” Laurel whispered. “Tell me. I want to know.”
Robert tightened his hold. “She’s a monster. You think I don’t have feelings? She doesn’t feelanythingexcept pleasure in using people like puppets to get what she wants in life. You’re her special new project, and that’s why you have to die. It’s better than what she’ll do to you. She’ll take everything you want, everything you love, until there’s only her.”
Abigail shook her head, her mouth turned down. “I had no idea you were this far gone. How could you kill all those women? I still can’t believe it.”
“Ha,” Robert said. “You lying—” He moved just enough.
Laurel shot her arm up and twisted, digging her hip into his thigh. She grabbed his arm, yanking him to the ground. The knife flashed across her lower neck, and she ducked back, even as it cut across her clavicle. She punched him in his broken nose and rolled away, catching her sweater on a rock.
He howled in pain and lunged for her, stabbing wildly with the knife.
She scrambled back across the snow, kicking, trying to avoid the blade.
Abigail fired three times, smoothly hitting Robert in the upper chest. His eyes widened and blood dribbled out of his mouth. Then he dropped to his knees, paused, and pitched forward, his face planting in the snow and his legs kicking out. Blood poured from beneath him to stain the white a bleak red.
Abigail paled and tilted her head, watching the blood. “Are you okay, Laurel?”
Laurel slowly stood, her gaze on the pink and black gun. “Yes.”
Abigail looked at her with eyes the exact same as the ones Laurel saw in the mirror every morning. “I killed him for you. My brother for my little sister. For you, Laurel.”
Laurel’s chest compressed. “Did you take the dog’s fur to help him implicate Huck?”
“Of course not,” Abigail said, her accent slight.
Laurel steadied herself. “Put down the gun, Abigail.”
