“You came to me,” Jason roared. “I was in a paid study last summer that she conducted for people with insomnia. The techniques she suggested helped. Then she came to me before Christmas and told me about a new study. One about treating childhood trauma. She promised to help me become successful and get what I want.”
Abigail snorted. “Apparently what you wanted was to kill women in the snow? I’m fairly certain that wasn’t my idea.”
Laurel needed to get closer to him. She could take the shot, but she wasn’t as confident with her left hand, and she couldn’t risk Haylee’s life. “When did you start killing, Jason?”
He licked spittle off his lip and caught a piece of Haylee’s hair. Spitting it out, he grimaced. “I don’t know.”
“Was Sharon Lamber your first kill?” Laurel strained to hear any sirens. They might be coming in silent if they knew she was already inside.
He gulped. “I thought she was the one. I started tracking her. Learned her every movement and routine just like Abigail and I thought a good predator should.” Satisfaction tilted his lips. “Sharon had no idea. Then I decided we should have our date, and she failed. She thought she was so smart, and she failed.”
Laurel angled her body to the side for a better line of sight to his brain. “What kind of rage do you have inside you?” she whispered. “To beat a woman’s face like that?”
“Her brain was so impressive, she didn’t deserve to have it,” he countered, sounding almost bored now. “If her body couldn’t do it for me, then her brain was useless, right?” He leaned down and kissed Haylee on the top of her head, smiling when she whimpered again. “Dumb girls have their places, but I deserve somebody as smart as I am, and I guess none of them came close. I was even smart enough to wear shoes two sizes too small in the snow.” He laughed. “The second I showed you my size thirteen shoes, you dismissed me as a suspect. My toes were sore for days from those damn boots, but it was worth it.”
Laurel should’ve looked harder at the man, but he just hadn’t stood out. “You’re going to prison, Jason.”
“No, I’m not. I’m better than everyone and smarter than you think. The right woman is just waiting for me,” he snarled. “You taught me that, Abigail. That I should never settle.”
Abigail snorted. “That’s not what I was teaching you.”
“Weren’t you?” Jason cocked his head. “I don’t know. I’ve always felt the rage, but I’ve never wanted to act on it until I started working with you. Until we fantasized about how we would’ve gotten away with the Snowblood Peak murders. On and on and on. God, I was aroused, and you knew it.” His gaze grew calculating. “You even offered to rent me this greenhouse when you learned I had a passion for flowers.”
“You’re psychotic,” Abigail muttered. “I thought you were learning to deal with trauma in a healthy way.”
“I don’t know. Tell me, Dr. Snow. Do you think it odd that, on the heels of the Snowblood murders, there’s another ritual serial killer working in your backyard?” Jason’s eyes gleamed.
Laurel still couldn’t make her shot without putting Haylee in danger. “I do find that odd, Jason.”
Jason stretched his neck, his pupils widening. “Your sister sure didn’t stop me. We spent so much time talking about perfection and how I could reach it. How I could free the rage inside me, and that it wasn’t my fault.” His eyes half lowered as if remembering with pleasure. “Now that I see you two together, it does make me wonder—why did you come looking for me, Abigail?”
“Drop the gun, Jason. We’ll investigate Abigail, but for now, you have to let Haylee go,” Laurel said, her voice calm. “Let me help you.”
Jason tilted his head. “Er, no.” He partially lifted Haylee and backed away toward the door. “Make one more move, and I will shoot her through the neck.”
Haylee gasped. Her face turned red. Then she panicked, kicking back.
Jason partially dropped her as she fought furiously against him. “Damn it.” In a swift move, he pointed the gun at Laurel and fired.
* * *
Fire exploded in Laurel’s upper arm and she flew back into Abigail, sending them both sprawling to the hard, dirt ground. Abigail rolled to the side and grabbed the gun, coming up on her knees.
“I wouldn’t,” Jason yelled, shoving Haylee toward them, his gun pointed at Abigail’s head.
Haylee fell into them, crying and shrieking.
“Shut up.” Abigail brought the gun down on Haylee’s head, and the blonde flopped once and then didn’t move. Abigail then looked up at Jason, the gun in her hand.
“Put it down,” Laurel hissed. There was no way Abigail could get the gun up and shoot before Jason killed her.
Abigail frowned but slowly put the weapon on the wooden dolly. “Take it easy, Jason. I think you’re confused. Let’s figure it out like we used to.”
Laurel tried to sit, her hand going to her wounded shoulder. Blood spurted between her fingers.
“At least it’s the same arm,” Abigail noted dispassionately.
Laurel panted in air as her body absorbed the pain and adrenaline flowed through her veins.
