It hit me then. They’d switched hair color? I hadn’t had Nonna label them when we put the pictures up in my laundry room. I shook my head, my gaze catching on the knife in the redhead’s hand. Nick’s knife. Even his initials were visible in the photograph.
She snorted. “Come on, let’s find the farmer.” She slipped her arm through mine and pulled me along in the snow.
My instincts flared awake. “Why would they change hair colors this late in life? Is the red hair symbolic of the family?”
Nonna kept tugging. “Oh, well, they’re not related by blood, sweetie. Their mom already had Wayne when she arrived in Silverville. I believe Jack Wilson adopted him.”
My thoughts came screeching to a halt. We reached the front door, and Bud knocked, opening it.
Nonna gasped. “Oliver?” she breathed.
I looked up to see the tall main Cupid dressed in his black outfit right before his hand shot out, and something sizzled. Bud dropped like a stone to the snowy front porch, his body twitching wildly.
Oliver? Did my grandma just say Oliver? I hurriedly pushed her behind me. The Cupid raised his other hand to show a silver-plated nine-millimeter.
I tried to remain calm. “It looks like you’ve moved on from arrows.”
He shrugged, so much taller than me that I could easily rush and hit him full-on in the gut. “I wouldn’t,” he said, the voice still tinny. “Come inside.”
I looked at Nonna. “Run,” I whispered.
“You run? I shoot.” He didn’t sound like he was joking.
She straightened to her full height. “Now, listen, young man—”
“Inside,” he barked.
I looked down at Bud, who was still twitching, and then at the stun gun in the ripped Cupid’s other hand. “Oliver?” I asked, trying to make sense of Nonna’s statement.
Nonna pushed me inside, and I smoothly slid by the Cupid, hitting a button on my phone to forward the picture to Aiden before shoving it into my back pocket, not my purse. Then I gasped.
Oliver Duck lay on the floor, his arms bound in front of him, a sock in his mouth, and a bruise on his temple. He wasn’t moving. Forgetting the Cupid, I rushed forward and dropped to my knees, reaching to find Oliver’s pulse—steady and strong.
So Nonna had seen him from the doorway.
I looked over my shoulder. “What did you do?”
“I knocked him out.” The Cupid shoved the stun gun into his pocket but kept the handgun pointed at us as he reached down and yanked Bud inside by his collar. Grabbing Bud’s handcuffs, he quickly cuffed the cop and then stunned him again.
Nonna cried out, and I stepped in front of her. “Don’t you think this has gone far enough?” I asked.
“Give me your phone,” he said, holding out a hand. I opened my purse and scrambled around. He grabbed my purse and threw it across the farmhouse to land on an old, quaint table in the kitchen. It skidded across and fell, dumping out all the contents. “The one in your back pocket.”
I wanted to charge him, so I set my stance.
He moved his aim to my nonna. “I’ll shoot her. I won’t think twice.”
He looked strong and ripped in the tight outfit, but it didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. I handed over my phone. He pressed a button and then looked closer. “Fuck.”
I winced and leaned over to see the picture I had brought up. Had I been able to forward it to Aiden? There was no way for me to know without the phone. Suddenly, all the pieces came together. It was about the DNA. “Hi, Wayne,” I drawled, sliding my body in front of Nonna again.
He looked at me for several moments, then tore off the mask and wig. In front of me stood who I had thought was Spencer Wilson, red hair and all. It all made sense now. He was actually Wayne, who his brother had pretended to be in order to take the DNA test. He glanced down at an unconscious Bud.
“Where’s McLerrison?” I asked.
“I knocked him out in the barn. He’ll probably freeze to death,” the real Wayne said carelessly. “Let’s go. I’m sure the cop called for backup.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Nonna said.
