“Maybe, maybe not. Either way, you’d better hurry, Brock. David has lived in Knife’s Edge long enough to know how to hide a body in a snowstorm.”
Brock’s lungs seized. He had to get to her in time.
Ophelia wokeas Monica dragged her from the Jeep. A piercing cold burrowed through her clothing, freezing her skin. “What are you doing?” Her left arm had gone numb. What was happening?
Monica shoved her against a tree, and Ophelia fell into a foot of snow.
Her mind snapped awake. “Monica?”
“Yeah.” The woman slid on the snow-covered road with the river iced over behind her. Flakes fell into her dark hair, and red bloomed across her face. “You shouldn’t have gotten in that plane, Olly.”
“I’m getting that.” Ophelia pressed a hand to her bleeding bicep. The cold at least slowed her blood flow, but she didn’t feel the wound, and that should concern her. She bit her lip to keep from passing out. “What’s your plan here?”
Monica clumsily pulled her gun from her coat pocket. “I’m going to shoot you, drag your body into the woods, and let the animals have you. They’re hungry this time of year.” She eyed the Jeep in the middle of the road. “I like that car, but guess I’ll have to drive it over one of the cliffs near the edge of town. It’s too bad. They’ll never find it.” She cocked her head. “I guess I could leave you in it.”
The woman was crazy. Ophelia pulled her legs toward her chest. Her entire body shook from the cold, and her thoughts were slowing. “Why, Monica?” There was no traffic on the road. How far out were they? The only sound around them was the wind cracking through the snow-laden trees. “Did David sleep with Tammy Randsom? Did you kill her for it?”
Monica kicked snow at her. “You are so stupid. Seriously. How can Brock look twice at you?”
Brock? Wait a minute. “This can’t be about Brock. You had a one-night stand.”
Monica glowered. “Brock is mine. He’s been mine for years, and we were so close. I got him so drunk that night, and in the morning, I knew he was the one. Just knew it. Then we found Hank and Brock turned away from everybody. Even me.”
What the heck? Seriously? “It was one night.”
“A special night,” Monica shrieked. “It has been almost a year, and he’s healing. He’s ready to love again. To love me.” She shook her head. “I got back together with David for the timebeing, thinking Brock would eventually get jealous. It has been such a pain acting like I love the guy. All he wants to do is drive a fucking snowplow around.” She gestured with the weapon. “David is nothing compared to Brock. I had the perfect plan. Until you fucking came to town.”
Ophelia tilted to the side and groaned, clutching her wounded arm and sliding one boot beneath her butt. “What was your plan?”
Monica wiped spittle off her mouth. “You can draw this out as long as you want. We’re way north on the river road, and it’s closed. I had to open the gate to get past.” She kicked a chunk of ice toward Ophelia.
Ophelia snorted. “You didn’t have a plan. In fact, I think you know Brock never would’ve been serious about you.”
Monica reared up, her eyes wild. “Not true. Brock Osprey is a protector to his very soul. I’d already hinted that David was abusive. Soon, Brock would’ve saved me from a bad situation. Of course, I would’ve killed David in self-defense first. I would’ve been so haunted and helpless afterward. Brock wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from helping me.” She smiled, her expression softening.
What a nut job. “You were going for pity?”
Monica hissed. “I shot at you twice. Why won’t you die?” She kicked out again. “Of course, I had to be careful not to shoot Brock. Otherwise I would’ve nailed you.”
Ophelia acted like she was ducking the clumps of ice and angled to the side, pulling her other foot beneath her butt. She dug her toes into the snow. “Pity doesn’t last, Monica.”
“No, but passion does. Our night together meant everything.” Monica steadied the gun with the barrel aimed at Ophelia’s head. “I’m done talking.”
Ophelia bunched her legs. The woman stood only a few feet away. Snow fell from the tree and landed on her shoulders,freezing her ears. “Wait a minute. You shot at me when I rode with Brock looking for Wyatt. We hadn’t started seeing each other yet. Why did you do that?”
Monica spat out snow. “Oh, I saw the way you two flirted. And you rodeon the backof his sled. Behind him. Holding him. Don’t you know what that means? It’s just as serious as when a woman rides on the back of some club member’s motorcycle. You had to go.”
Whoa. The woman had lost touch with reality. Ophelia switched tactics. “Are you sure you’re a killer? You know that kind of thing follows you to the grave, right? If you kill, that blood will be on your soul forever.”
Monica faltered. “Then it’s too late for me anyway.”
Ophelia jerked. “Did you kill David?”
Monica frowned. “No. Of course, not. That happens later. It’ll take Brock some time to get over you. I have to admit, I’ve never seen him act like he has with you. He was always up for a good time but he never got serious. He has never looked at anybody like he does you.” She tilted her head. “That’s why you have to die.”
Ophelia rocked forward. “If not David, then who?” Man, her hands had gone full numb. If she could get the gun, could she get her fingers to work enough to pull the trigger? She tried to concentrate and not pass out. How much blood had she lost? She thought through the recent cases. “Did you kill Tammy for some reason?” It was a shot in the dark, but she had nothing else going for her.
Monica sniffed loudly. “Accidentally. Shouldn’t count.”
