Jason pointed the gun at Abigail’s head. “You are afraid. Stop acting like you’re not.”
“She really isn’t,” Laurel breathed out, her arm on fire. “You’re wrong about her. No matter what you do, she won’t be afraid of you.” The man obviously needed fear; they couldn’t show any. “The only woman in this greenhouse who’s afraid of you is now unconscious.” Hopefully not injured too badly. “And she loves you. Don’t you feel anything for her?”
“I’ve tried!” Jason yelled, throwing up his hands and then quickly regaining his focus and pointing the gun at them again. “I really tried, but she just couldn’t make me happy. None of them made me happy.”
The guy was quickly unraveling.
Abigail set her hand on her thigh at the same level as the gun on the dolly. “Maybe it isn’t up to others to make you happy. After studying you for so long, I have to conclude that you can’t be happy. You will never be happy. Only you can control your future, Jason.” She jerked her head in the direction of his gun, even though the barrel was pointed at her. “Maybe it’s time to join your mother.”
Laurel fought to remain conscious as the pain increased in intensity. She forced herself up onto her knees. “Just put down the gun and let us help you.”
“No,” Abigail said, her body stiffening. “I think you know you can’t be helped.”
“This is your fault!” Jason screamed, jabbing the gun toward her. “I was angry but trying to make a good life before you. Before you jabbed shit in my veins and made me feel invincible. None of those women made me feel like that.” He sobered, his face going stony and calm. “Only you.” He blinked, his gaze focusing on her as his voice slowed. “This was all practice. They were all dry runs until I could get you here. Abigail.” He licked his lips and rolled the sounds around on his tongue, almost sounding like he was humming a low sonnet.
Abigail snorted. “You still won’t be able to get it up.”
Laurel coughed and struggled to edge toward Abigail. “Don’t listen to her, Jason. You were used and you were hurt. I really can help you.” She didn’t like the way his mood had changed.
“No. You can’t.” If anything, regret twisted his lips. “You and Haylee are in the way now.”
“Wait. You have to at least explain the flowers. I know they symbolize betrayal, but where did you first see them?” Laurel was desperate to keep him talking. Help had to be arriving soon.
He shrugged. “I saw them on an old television show, and I thought they were beautiful. Then I learned more about them, and I figured they’re just like women. Lovely and fragile looking but dark at heart. And they freeze so beautifully—just like women do.” His gaze cut to Abigail again. “I hope you don’t freeze. We’re going to have to find a field closer to your home, if you don’t mind. We can’t stay here.” His chin lifted and he breathed out slowly, his body undulating slightly. “You’re going to be stunning in the snow.”
“Wait, Jason—” Laurel started. She bunched her legs.
“No.” He turned and pointed the gun at her head. “If you’re around, she can’t give her full attention to me. Sorry I didn’t know you were a doctor. It’s too late now.”
Laurel dove for her gun just as the outside door burst open.
Jason turned and Huck kicked the gun out of his hand. Then Jason dove forward and emitted a furious roar, hitting Huck mid-center and half lifting him against the doorframe, which crumpled.
Huck dropped to his feet and punched Jason once in the face, and then struck him several times in the torso, propelling the killer back toward the flowers. He finished with an uppercut that threw the man up and then down to smash several dahlia plants. His body jerked once and more petals wafted to the dirt floor. Huck brushed snow off his face and then grabbed Jason’s shoulder and turned him over, quickly securing him with zip-ties he withdrew from his back pocket.
Laurel sat on the dolly, dropping her now bloody gun to the side to put pressure on her wound.
Sirens echoed in the distance.
Huck scanned the interior of the greenhouse and then hurried to her, crouching. “How bad?”
“I’m uncertain.” She let her head loll on her shoulders.
“You’re okay.” He grasped her good shoulder and leaned over to check for Haylee’s pulse. “Was she shot?”
“Just unconscious,” Abigail said, dusting off her hands.
State and local police officers came through the door first, and once they’d made sure the scene was secure, they let the paramedics in.
Officer Zello yanked Jason up and shoved him toward the door. The killer was sniffling as he went by.
Laurel lifted her head. “By the way, you aresofired from working on my barndominium.” She tried to focus on Huck, but her eyes wouldn’t cooperate. “I need to find a new architect.” She started to pitch sideways.
“I’ll start asking around.” Huck caught her, holding her upright. Then he lifted her to a gurney and set her down. She grabbed his coat with her good hand and drew his ear to her mouth so she could whisper. “Get a warrant for Abigail’s office and lab at the university. I want everything.” Then she finally let the bliss of unconsciousness take away the pain.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Laurel sat in the hospital bed as her mother once again fluffed her pillows. “I’m fine.” The surgery the day before to remove the bullet from her shoulder had been successful, and she’d had a good night with decent sleep. The pain meds were helping, and it was almost lunch time. She’d already seen both her uncles, her aunt, and Kate with her girls. “I’m tiring a mite, Mom.”
