“I don’t have to tell him about it.”
Steven barked out a laugh. “Like that’s gonna happen.”
“Even if I did tell him, pulling a gun is far less of a crime than using it.”
“I’m hoping I don’t have to do that. Get moving.” He waved the gun toward the trail. “And pick up the pace. You’re going too slow.”
“The path is overgrown.”
“Yeah.” He surveyed the trail ahead. “I suppose Micah was good for something. But he ended up being as much of a problem as you did.”
Cara’s lungs stalled. “Are you saying you ... that he didn’t drown?”
“No. He did drown—with a little help.”
As the man’s comment sank in, two facts registered.
Steven had killed Micah.
And if he was willing to admit his culpability, he couldn’t let her live to tell that tale.
Cara began to shake.
She had to come up with a strategy to foil his plan. Now.
“Keep going.” Steven pointed the gun at her again.
Doing her best to rein in her snowballing panic, she stumbled forward, moving as slow as possible. They were approaching the top too quickly, and her brain felt mired in muck.
A bramble snagged her sleeve, halting her forward momentum.
“Now what?” Steven sounded annoyed.
“I’m stuck on a thorny vine.”
“Pull it off.”
She pretended to focus on freeing her sleeve, but in reality she was concentrating on getting her brain in gear.
Could she enlist Steven’s help with the barbed stem? Draw him close enough to perhaps kick the gun out of his hand?
Problem was, the path was narrow, the brush on either side was too thick to plunge through, and he was a lot stronger than she was. It would be better to find an open spot for her kick, where she had room to maneuver and could attempt to outrun him.
At a sudden prick on her finger, she jerked her hand back. “Ouch!”
Muttering a word that burned her ears, Steven moved closer, jabbed the gun into her kidney again, and yanked the bramble free of her sweater. “You’re more trouble than Micah was.”
The coldness in his eyes sent a shiver through her.
“Why did you kill him, Steven?” She searched his face. “He never did anything to you.”
A muscle in his jaw clenched. “He saw too much. Like you did. But I had time to plan with him.”
Keep him talkingwhile you think, Cara.
“You did an impressive job.” She tried to inject a note of admiration into her voice without gagging. “It looked like an accident.” Even if Natalie had her doubts and Brad was still investigating the death.
“That was the plan.”
