“We aren’t going anywhere.” His gaze, flat yet somehow menacing, lingered on her. He stepped to the small counter on the other end of the room and set the cooler on it. “You can put things away in the ice chest, and I’ll get the box of dry goods.”
Fear was a hard ball in her stomach. Dana moved to the cooler and began to unload it. She’d have to get ice for the ice chest, and where on earth could she put the other things he was bringing in? Only two floor cabinets were in the space as well as a tiny dry sink. And there was only one cot plus a lumpy sofa by the fireplace. She had to talk Chris out of staying here. She couldn’t imagine sleeping here for one night let alone the couple of weeks he’d mentioned before they left.
The wind howled through the buildings with as much frustration as Bree felt. She stood on the front stoop and rattled the doorknob with all her strength. “We have to get inside.”
Mason wore a knit cap with the word Sheriff emblazoned across the front of it. “I have no authority to bust down the door.”
“But what if she’s injured inside and can’t get to the door?” Boone slammed his fist against the side of the building.
“He’s right. We’ve got to get in there.” Sensing Bree’s agitation, Samson whined low in his throat, and she touched the top of his head. “You saw the way the kitchen looked. Maybe an intruder broke in and he hurt her.”
Mason glanced at the door, then back at her. “I could probably make a case for that.” He sighed and motioned to one of his detectives. “Get the door open.”
Bree stepped out of the way to let the man do his job. “If we don’t find her right away inside, I’ll have Samson search for Dana. That will tell us quickly what’s going on.”
His gaze on his deputy, Boone nodded. “It could have been a family emergency.”
“Or Garret could have taken her,” she pointed out.
Boone didn’t answer, and she knew he realized the seriousness of the situation too. Dana wasn’t the kind to blow off work and ignore Bree’s call. Something sinister was taking place.
“Got it.” The deputy opened the door and stepped inside. Mason and the deputies fanned out calling for Dana.
Bree crowded in behind them. The lights were still on. No Phantom, no Dana. Opening the hall closet, she located Dana’s favorite Michigan Tech sweatshirt. She snapped her fingers and called Samson to her side, then thrust the article of clothing under his nose. His tail wagged as he sniffed it.
She waited until the men came back. Mason shook his head. “She’s not here.”
“But her car’s outside. Something’s happened to her.” She put the sweatshirt under Samson’s nose again. “Search, Samson. Find Dana.”
He barked and ran off with his curly tail high over his rump. Boone followed as Bree tracked her dog to the kitchen.
Boone picked up a phone on the counter. “Isn’t this Dana’s?” He swiped it on. “Seven missed calls, probably most of them from us.”
“She wouldn’t leave her phone voluntarily.” Bree watched Samson as he nosed through the pantry, then he reversed and she followed him down the hall to a closed door and barked.
Dana’s rooms were on the second floor so why was Samson interested in this room? She opened the door for the dog. It was a masculine room, and it had to belong to Chris. Samson raced to the bed where he sniffed around before going to the closet door.
Bree’s pulse pounded, and as she opened the closet she fully expected to find Dana’s body on the floor, but only clothing hung neatly from the racks. Samson went straight to a built-in set of drawers at the back of the closet and sniffed around, spending the most time on the bottom one. Frowning, Bree followed him inside and opened the bottom drawer first.
An old metal box was inside, and she pulled it out. “Samson seems very interested in this.” She turned and showed it to Boone. The dog was sniffing it all over and wagging his tail. She opened the lid and found newspaper articles.
Mason looked over Boone’s shoulder. “That hardly seems important enough to explain the way you’re poking into Chris’s private belongings without a warrant.”
Her face went hot at the rebuke. “Humor me for a minute. It might be a clue to where they are. Samson zeroed in on this for some reason.” When he shrugged, she carried the box to the bed and pulled out the clippings.
The first one was of Allyson’s murder. When Bree gasped, Mason took it from her and looked it over. “He was probably interested in the case.”
“Maybe.” She lifted another clipping, this one about Faith Rogerson. A smiley face had been drawn on the margin. Her stomach plunged, and she passed it to Mason. “This was the engaged woman killed in Portland.”
His eyes widened. “He’d never heard the case mentioned, did he?”
“Not to my knowledge. Only Allyson did.” She knew what the next article would be and she was right—it detailed what had happened to Renee. She looked at Boone whose face went white as he saw the heading.
She inhaled as her knees went weak. “Chris is the Groom Reaper. He’s taken Dana.”
“And he killed my sister.” Boone spoke through gritted teeth. “I was suspicious yesterday when I found a picture of Renee’s with Chris in it. I asked him about it, and he denied that he knew her. It ticked him off and he hung up.”
“And you’re just now telling us?” Mason demanded.
“I had no proof, not really. I got this from Detective Morgan.” He pulled out his phone and showed them a police sketch. “The police in Washington say this sketch looks like Justin Leyland too.”
“So Chris knows you’re on to him.” Bree felt the blood drain from her head. “What if he plans to kill her?”
“She’s his sister. I don’t think he’d hurt her,” Mason said.
“Stepcousin, really,” Boone said. “And he’s a little weird with her, possessive. I thought it odd.”
“Where could he have taken her?” Bree tried to remember any other place Dana might have mentioned. Nothing came to mind.
Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out. “Hey, honey, what’s up?”
“There’s a new development here with Lauri.” Kade’s deep voice was somber.
Lauri was the last thing she needed to worry about now, but before she could tell him what was happening here, he put Lauri on the phone.
“Bree, Peter isn’t really Peter at all. He’s Chris Newell.” Lauri sounded breathless. “I was looking around online at the house where I saw him. I happened to click on an article about Chris, and there was his picture. It’s my Peter. Well, not really mine, especially now.”
Chills ran up Bree’s neck. “Listen very carefully, Lauri. You are to stay in the house. If he tries to call you, don’t answer. If he tries to see you, call for Kade. And have Kade make sure he’s armed.”
“Bree, you’re scaring me.”
“He’s a serial killer, Lauri. He’s the Groom Reaper.”
“The one who kills the women before the wedding?” Lauri’s voice shook.
“I think you were next. Did he say anything about another place he might go while he’s here? Anything at all?”
“Well, he mentioned a cabin near Chassell, but he didn’t say where it was.”
“We’ll find out. Remember what I said. I’ll let you know what we find.” Bree ended the call and told Mason and Boone what Lauri had discovered. “Let’s get toward Chassell.”
CHAPTER 36
Garret peered up at the sky, the dark night already beginning to spit snow. He parked in a pull off by the track back to Chris’s cabin, then grabbed his gun and knife.
This should be a piece of cake if he didn’t get cocky. Chris wouldn’t be expecting him, and certainly not on foot in an incoming blizzard. The storm was churning now, dropping thick, fat drops that stuck to everything.
Garret took a chance on using his flashlight and flipped it on, then increased his pace to a jog. His breath fogged in the cold air, but he ignored the deep bite of the wind. He’d be there so
on, and Dana would be his. Forever.
He reached a stand of pine and paused to catch his breath. He caught a glimmer of light through the trees and quickly extinguished his flashlight. There it was. He drew his Glock from the holster at his waist and crept toward the cabin. Dinky thing. He’d have thought Chris would have a lavish place. He spotted the outline of an outhouse and grinned. Dana was probably appalled when she arrived. He didn’t take her for the camping sort.
In less than an hour the storm had dumped four inches of snow. He crept forward, moving toward a window where he could peer inside. The distinctive scent of smoke wafted to him, and when he looked inside, he saw Chris building a fire in a wood-burning stove. Dana was putting things into the few cabinets in the room. Tight quarters. What was Chris doing out here with her?
Could his offer to reunite Garret and Dana be genuine? Maybe he’d driven her out here to talk sense into her. Maybe Garret had been overly cautious.
He ducked down when Chris rose and headed for the back door. Garret looked around for a place to hide. Maybe Chris wouldn’t notice the tracks he’d left in the snow since it was dark. He darted around the corner of the cabin and stood listening while he held his breath. The back door banged, and Chris muttered as he went to a woodpile by the outhouse.
There were several clunks, and he peeked around the cabin’s edge to see Chris loading his arms with firewood. Good. Even if Chris saw him, he’d be hampered by the wood, and Garret could shoot him. He ducked his head back as Chris started to turn, then listened as his heavy treads went up the steps.
The door banged again. Garret waited a full five minutes in the cold darkness before deciding Chris wasn’t coming back out for more wood. He took a step toward the back door.
“Hello, Garret. You’re more resourceful than I’d thought.” Chris’s voice held the edge of steel.
Garret turned slowly. There was just enough light coming from the window to make out Chris pointing a Glock casually his way. He didn’t have a coat on, and his blond hair held a thick coating of snow. “I thought I wouldn’t wait for the invitation to join you.”
“Just as well. This storm is about to undo all my preparations.” He motioned with the gun. “Let’s go inside where it’s more comfortable. Toss your gun onto the ground.”
Garret did as directed. Chris wouldn’t know about the knife in its sheath under his jeans. There would be an opportunity to get to it. He shuffled through the snow, six inches deep now, to mount the back steps and move onto the deck. As he neared the back door, he saw Dana working over a propane one-burner stove. She wore slim-fitting jeans and a red sweatshirt. Steam rose from the pot on it, and he caught a whiff of pasta as he opened the door.
She turned, and her mouth went open. Her gaze darted past his shoulder to Chris and relief lit her eyes. She looked back at Garret. “Can’t you just let go, Garret? You’re going to go to jail now.”
He thrust out his chin and glared at her. “Chris invited me. He’s going to help us mend things between us.”
Dana’s eyes widened, and her gaze shot back to her brother. She shook her head. “That’s not true.”
Chris paused at the back door. “Actually, it is true. Well, partially anyway. I did tell him the two of you would get back together, but it’s not what he thinks. Or you either, Dana.”
Chris swung the Glock around toward Garret, and Garret saw the intent before he pressed the trigger. “No!” Time slowed as the gun recoiled and an agonizing pain spread through his chest. His vision went dark, and he pitched sideways into the snow.
Heavy, fat snowflakes came down fast and furious driven by ferocious winds that blew out of the north. Boone stepped out onto the stoop and looked out on Quincy Hill. In the hour they’d been inside Chris’s house, the storm had already dumped four inches, and it wasn’t letting up anytime soon.
Head tucked against the wind, Bree stepped out beside him. “Let’s take my Jeep. No sense in having more vehicles on the road than we need, and I’ve got a backseat for Samson.”
“Mind if I drive? I’ve got a thing about control.” He grinned across the snow-covered hood of his car at her.
She tossed him the keys. “I’m all too happy to let you.” Samson hopped into the backseat and settled down with his head on his paws. She climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door against the wind, then buckled her seat belt. They would be lucky to make it to Chassell with this storm.
Boone got in and buckled up, then engaged the four-wheel drive and started the car. “Mason will be right behind us. He’s making a call to see if he can find a property record up there for Chris. Keep your cell phone where you can hear it. He’s going to call you.”
She held it up in her gloved hand. “All ready.”
The windshield wipers were having trouble keeping up with the snow by the time they reached the outskirts of town. Boone pulled out onto M-26, and the Jeep slewed toward the ditch until he managed to get it going in a straight line. He gripped the steering wheel with all his might and leaned forward to see through the driving snow. Piles of snow six inches high were on either side of the tire tracks in his lane.
The speedometer barely topped fifteen miles an hour. It would take several hours to get there at this speed. It was going to be a long, miserable drive.
Bree’s cell phone played Elvis singing “Love Me Tender,” and she snatched it up. “Kade, we’re on our way to Chassell. Is everything okay there? Chris hasn’t tried to contact Lauri, has he?”
She went quiet as she listened to her husband. Boone concentrated on the road. Luckily, there weren’t many foolish enough to be out here. He was beginning to regret they hadn’t taken his truck. He had new studded tires on it and chains in the back in case of bad weather. Food and water and blankets were also in the back behind the seat. He had no idea what kind of emergency equipment Bree usually carried.
She ended the call. “Kade was just checking on me, but he said Chris tried to call Lauri. She didn’t answer, so he left a message saying the weather was too bad to go out tonight. So I think she’s safe.”
“That’s good. Hey, what kind of emergency equipment do you have onboard?”
“Chains, blankets, food, and water. You need something?”
“No, just making sure we’re prepared. This storm is supposed to dump up to three feet overnight, and it may take us that long to get there.”
“My middle name is prepared.” She leaned forward and stared out the window. “I still can’t believe what’s happened.”
Her phone played again, this time “Jailhouse Rock.”
“That has to be Mason.”
She grinned as she answered the phone. “Hey, Mason, got anything?” She grabbed for a paper and pen from her purse. “Uh-huh. Got it. We aren’t even to Donken yet. It’s going to take hours. Okay, I’ll keep you posted.”
“He found an address?”
She nodded. “And he’s just a few minutes behind us. He’s contacted the Houghton County sheriff’s department to see if they can meet us out there, but they’re dealing with a multicar pileup at the moment and can’t spare anyone. Maybe not until morning.”
“So it’s up to us to find her.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter.
“Exactly.”
The snowflakes were so thick and large and the road was so bad that he was having trouble figuring out whether he was even on the road or not. The only thing that helped was the occasional fence post and road sign. His sense of foreboding kept rising, and he kept swallowing it back down.
Bree glanced at him. “You really care about her, don’t you?”
His defensive movement on the wheel made the Jeep head for the ditch until he righted it. “Am I that obvious?”
She smiled. “You look like you’re about to crawl out on the hood to help the Jeep go faster.”
“I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s always thinking of other people.” He touched the ridged flesh of his cheek with one hand. “She never seems to notice my scars
.”
“She sees people and not what’s on the outside. We’ve got to find her before Chris hurts her. We can’t lose her.”
He managed to increase the speed a bit without spinning out. “We won’t.”
CHAPTER 37
Dana caught the smell of gunpowder and felt sick to her stomach. Chris had shot Garret down as if he’d been playing a video game. She stared at her brother and struggled to catch her breath. “C-Chris?” Phantom came to her and whined. She entwined her fingers in his fur and struggled to regain her composure.
He lowered the gun and smiled at her, a perfectly normal happy-to-see-you smile. He stepped inside and shut the door against the wind and snow. “I hope that didn’t upset you too much. I always exact justice, and he deserved to die. I didn’t want to leave my revenge undone.” He covered his mouth with his hand and chuckled.
Her blood went as cold as the wind outside at the sound of that chuckle. She swallowed down the tightness in her throat. “Hey, dinner is about ready. You hungry?” What a crazy thing to say with a dead man on the back deck. Still, she had to do something to erase that maniacal grin on her brother’s face.
She stood frozen by the stove trying to think what to do. She had no phone. A blizzard was bearing down on them, and there was no way to get out for help. She could shut and lock the door the next time he went out for wood, but he had a gun and could shoot out the lock. The best thing was to try to act normally until she could get help. Somehow.
He washed his hands at the dry sink with water in the bucket from melted snow. He turned back toward her with that crazy grin still splitting his face. She tried to wet her lips but couldn’t dredge up the moisture to do it.
Quickly turning back to the pasta, she stirred in some cheese. “It’s just macaroni and cheese, but I made it your favorite way with a little paprika and red pepper flakes.”
“Dana, let’s not play games. You know why I brought you here.”