A shadow caught my eye, and I flicked my gaze behind Fred, who was still rambling. I tried not to react as Bryce slowly walked toward the hot tub, a toaster in his hands.
It was plugged into the extension cord.
“Pick up your feet.” I kept my voice calm but firm.
Skye and Evie looked at me, confused, but quickly pulled their knees up to their chests.
“What was that saying all over your kitchen again?” Bryce asked.
Fred spun around, startled. “Live, laugh—”
Bryce lifted the appliance over his head and threw it into the tub, cutting him off.
There was a loud pop, a bright flash of electricity, and Fred stiffened as the shock ran through his body. He cried out, but it was cut off in an instant. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and then slowly, he fell face-first into the water. I leaned over to get a better look. It had only been moments, but his body was already ashen. The bubbles from the hot tub continued to roll around him, the electricity flickering under the water.
Silence fell over the yard as we stared in horror at Bryce—who was beaming proudly.
“Toaster bath.”
Chapter 35
Evie
The Patch Job
The sound of Skye drawing in a deep breath caused me to bolt upright and throw myself in her direction. I slapped my hand over her mouth just as a bloodcurdling scream came from her throat.
. “Shh… it’s okay. Everything’s fine. It’s—” I tried to say but she slapped me away.
“Fine? Bryce just murdered someone!” she wailed. “Evie, we need to get out of here.” She pulled back and looked around frantically.
“Actually, that’s probably a good idea,” Sebastian said, rising from the pool chair. “Evie, take Skye back to my house. We’ll deal with this.”
“Deal with it?” Skye’s eyes were so wide and red with tears. She was losing it. Would she call the police?
Suddenly I was more scared of her than Bryce—and the dead lawyer floating in the hot tub. I knew how Bryce and Sebastian felt about my mission, but I had no clue what Skye was thinking.
I stood and grabbed her hands, tugging her up. “Let’s go. I’ll explain everything.”
Skye shook like a tiny dog, sobbing all the way through Fred’s house. I paused at the front door and placed my hands on her shoulders. “Skye,” I warned. “All of these houses have cameras and security and neighbors watching. You cannot walk out looking like this. I’m going to give you a moment to fix yourself, and when we step through that door, we’re going to be laughing and acting like nothing is wrong. Do you understand me?”
“But, Bryce, he—he—”
I put a finger to her lips. “We’re not going to talk about that. I don’t know if there are cameras watching us right now.”
Her head whipped around, looking up to find cameras.
“Skye, focus on me,” I said, keeping my voice calm and steady. “Don’t look around.”
She looked up, blinking tears away rapidly, then nodded. “Okay. And you’ll explain everything?” she asked, her eyes shiny and pleading.
I threaded my arm through hers and plastered a smile on my face.
“Of course, bestie. Now, let’s do the best acting of our lives. Act drunk.”
We strode out the door, pretending to be tipsy and giggly. We stumbled over each other until we made it back to Sebastian’s. I typed in the code on his front door and pushed her inside, instantly dropping the act.
The dogs came running in, and I bent down to greet them.
