The Fog

by Amanda McKinney

  “Your truck?” Thomas asked.

  “Yeah. The blue Dodge, right out back.”

  “Where did she go?” Wesley’s pulse pounded in his ears.

  “Toward the lake.”

  ***

  Gwen’s chest heaved as she sprinted through the woods, her shallow breath raspy as she gasped for air. Tree limbs whipped past her face, jumping out of the fog without a moment’s notice. She glanced over her shoulder. Had she lost her?

  The maid.

  Why didn't she see it? Why hadn't she even considered it?

  She swiped the blood trickling down her neck from the blade Elise had held to her throat as she’d forced Gwen down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Becks had been searching for more liquor—talk about the wrong place at the wrong time. The moment he'd confronted Elise and distracted her, Gwen took her chance, elbowing the maid in the stomach and bolting out the back door.

  She’d been running blindly for what seemed like ten minutes. She didn’t know where she was, or where Wes was, just that she needed to get as far away from the evil hotel as possible.

  Her toe clipped a rock and she stumbled, catching herself on a tree.

  She swallowed deeply between breaths, her mouth so dry it felt like cotton. She sucked in a breath, held, and listened as the waves of fog swayed around her. In the distance, she heard the faint sound of water.

  The lake.

  The picture of fishing boats from the brochure flashed in her head. After taking one last glance over her shoulder, she maneuvered through the woods until her feet hit the sandy shore. Just ahead, the dock, with two fishing boats. She sprinted across the shore, the sand kicking up from her feet.

  Get the hell out of here. Now.

  The dock creaked as she jumped onto it. She found the boat keys in an old, wooden box mounted to a utility closet. One tumbled from her trembling hand, settling between two slats. She grabbed the other, darted to the closest boat and began frantically untying it from the dock.

  Her heart thudded in her ears.

  Come on, come on.

  And just as she yanked the rope from the hitch, pain exploded through her skull.

  ***

  Wesley spun on his heel and took off through the woods, the fog, the thickest he’d ever seen, completely engulfed him as he neared the riverbank. He squinted, barely able to make out the rickety dock just ahead of him.

  Hang on, Gwen, was all he’d thought as he leapt onto the dock. A piece of shit fishing boat swayed in the water, next to two empty slips. His gaze shifted to a pair of keys lying in the middle of the dock. He picked them up and looked around. Gwen had been there, very recently. He knew it in his gut. He untied the only remaining boat, jumped in and pushed away from the dock.

  The air was cool, the fog so heavy around him it felt like a wet blanket coating his skin. He took off through the water, the little boat topping out at fifteen miles an hour. Branches, fallen logs, and trash littered the river from the storm. If he hit a decent sized log, it was a good chance the shit-boat would tip. But that was the least of his concerns.

  How would he see Elise’s boat through the fog?

  He shook his head.

  The maid. What the fuck? He tried to picture her in his head but the image was fuzzy. He’d only seen her once, from across the room, but she definitely wasn’t in the lobby when he’d dropped off Sam. But how the hell did she tie into all this? And, who had killed Mikhail? Two huge pieces of the puzzle were still missing.

  He had to get to Gwen—every second that passed was potentially her last. He’d told her she’d be safe, safe with him. He couldn’t let her down. He couldn’t lose her. He ground his teeth so hard pain shot through his head.

  Goddammit Wes, why did you leave her?

  His chest rose and fell with adrenaline.

  I’m coming, Gwen. I’m coming.

  Just then, he heard the echo of voices bounce off the bank—shouts. He veered toward the noise, lost in a gray cloud of fog.

  “…hands up!” His heart stopped at the sound of her voice.

  Bobbi.

  His eyes frantically scanned the fog, locking on a dark object in the middle of the river.

  What the fuck was his sister doing out there?!

  The object began to take shape as he drew closer. Elise, with her wild, black hair blowing in the wind, stood behind Gwen with her arm wrapped around her neck, and he had no doubt a knife was pressed to Gwen's neck. And just beyond that, his sister stood in his ski boat, with a gun pointed at both women. His pulse roared in his ears. All his years running special ops for the Marines couldn’t prepare him for this moment.

  Did Bobbi see him coming up from behind? Could she, through the fog? The last thing he needed was for his sister to go all Annie Oakley, and they'd all be toast. He cut the engine and grabbed an oar, and began creeping up on Elise’s boat.

  “Drop the knife!” His sister shouted.

  “Not until I see Wesley Cross!”

  Wesley paddled faster until he was less than fifteen feet from the boat. He dropped the oar and pulled out his gun. His hand trembled as he raised it.

  Suddenly, he heard Gwen yelp and a fresh rush of adrenaline shot like lightning through him.

  “What do you want with my brother?”

  The buzz in his ears faded, the shouts, the sound of the water lapping against the boat, it all faded away as he aimed the gun and slid his finger around the trigger.

  Gwen screamed.

  Pop!

  Elise’s body crumbled as Gwen dove into the water. Wesley tossed his gun and dove in, the cold water knocking the breath out of his lungs as he swam like a bullet through the water.

  “Wesley!” Gwen cried out through the fog.

  The moment he heard her voice, he pressed ahead even harder until finally, he wrapped his arms around her.

  “Are you okay?!” He wiped the strings of hair from her face, frantically looking her over.

  “Yes.” She coughed. “Yes, I’m okay.”

  He zeroed in on the knot on the side of her head and the thin trickle of blood running down her neck, spreading into the dark water.

  “I’m okay, Wes. The knife barely pierced me. Oh, my God, Wes.”

  “Wes! Are you okay?”

  He looked past Gwen to see Bobbi yelling from the tip of the boat, then shifted his gaze to the fishing boat swaying in the water.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” He asked again.

  She nodded, her teeth chattering.

  He kissed her, feeling the warmth and comfort from her mouth. She was okay, and his sister was okay.

  “I’ve got to get you to my sister’s boat.”

  “Your sister?”

  “Explain later. Come on…”

  He guided her to the ski boat. Bobbi leaned over, grabbed for Gwen.

  “On three… one, two, three.”

  He hoisted her up and pinned his sister. “Bobbi, what the fuck are you doing here?”

  Bobbi wiped the sweat from her brow. “You said you were going to come by last night but never showed. Then, I heard about Mikhail escaping jail, and tried to call but didn’t get through. Then I heard that the bridge had collapsed and you were trapped! So I went and got your damn boat, came up the river and stumbled on this fucking hot mess.” She nodded toward Elise's fishing boat.

  “I told you to stay out of this.” He nodded toward Gwen. “Wrap her up, will ya? This is Gwen.”

  Bobbi’s eyebrows tipped up, then she said, “Okay. Be careful. You still got your gun?”

  “No.”

  She handed him hers. “I’m right here.”

  “Thanks, Sis.” He smiled, then dove under and swam to the fishing boat.

  He breached and treaded water for a moment until a low moan drifted into the air. He gripped the side and looked over. A river of red pooled in the bottom, the blood trickling from the bullet wound in the maid’s leg—exactly where he’d aimed. She writhed in pain, rocking back and forth until her eyes ope
ned and locked on his.

  And his blood froze as he stared into the chilling, ice-blue eyes.

  Ice-blue.

  CHAPTER 23

  Five hours later…

  Wesley crossed his arms over his chest as he stared into the little window of interview room two.

  “You’re looking at Inna Lutrova, Mikhail’s mother.” Sliding his phone into his pocket, Dean walked up behind him.

  “His fucking mother. Unbelievable. I knew it the moment I saw those eyes.”

  “Chilling, huh? Let’s head to my office,” Dean nodded toward the end of the hall.

  “How’s her leg?”

  “Cleaned and stitched-up. Didn’t even need surgery. She’s fine. You get your truck?”

  “No, Bobbi took me by the house to change into some dry clothes before coming here. I got the farm truck.”

  They stepped into the detective’s closet-sized office. Dean closed the door, tossed a stack of papers on his desk and glanced at the red blinking light on his voicemail. He blew out a breath.

  Based on the dark circles and bags under the detective’s eyes, Wesley knew he hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep in the last twenty-four hours, or returned any calls, apparently.

  “Yep, she’s his damn mother,” Dean said. “Been using the name and identity of Elise Barringer for the last twenty-something years.”

  “Why?”

  “Finally had enough of her husband, Mikhail’s step-dad, beating the shit out of her. Packed a bag and skipped town one night. Went down to Mexico, created a new life for herself, then came back here as Elise. Died her hair, lost a lot of weight. Got a job at the Half Moon last year.”

  “Couldn’t hide those eyes, though.”

  Dean frowned. “Like staring into pure evil.”

  “She didn’t take Mikhail when she left?”

  “No. He went into protective services. Got shuffled through the system.” He paused. “You know he was abused, too, right? It was pretty bad.”

  Wesley nodded. “Where’s the step-dad now?”

  “Dead. Died in prison decades ago. Heart attack.”

  “Nice.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, Inna has been in communication with Mikhail since he was put away… since you put him away. She’s Country Cutie, the person he’d been emailing, the person the FBI thought was Lawrence. She picked him up when he busted out of prison, brought him down here. They both hid out in his grandmother’s barn, out on her land. Granny's been dead eleven years. Mikhail inherited the land. That’s where we found him.” He took a deep breath. “Killing Leena was the start of the plan he’d spent five years conjuring up in his head, with his mom’s help, of course. Revenge for you getting him locked up.”

  “But he died before he could finish the job. Who killed him?”

  Dean’s gaze pinned him from across the room. “You did.”

  “What?” Wesley's hands dropped to his side.

  “Mikhail had a bullet wound right under his right shoulder, barely puncturing the top of his lung. His black SUV, which Inna has been driving since, has two bullet holes through the back glass and blood all over the seat.”

  Wesley’s eyes rounded.

  “Yep. You barely missed his head the night you chased him off your property. According to Jess, he lived for hours before dying in the barn, in his mother’s arms. Bled out. Poetic ending if you ask me.”

  “And Inna took up his sword.”

  “Exactly. And with plenty of rage considering you’d just killed her son. She’d been using Lawrence, Mikhail’s childhood friend, as a pawn. Maybe hoping to pin everything on him, we guess. She stole his knife from the kitchen and gave it to Mikhail to use on Leena. Jessica confirmed it was raccoon blood on Leena’s neck.”

  “That’s where the eggs came from. Gwen was right.”

  “Yep. So we’ve got the murder weapon, and his bloody SUV that you shot puts him on the scene. Case closed.”

  “For Leena. What about Kaylee and Becks?”

  “After interviewing Lawrence, we’ve put together that Kaylee had gone to the fourth-floor bar to confront him about everything, and Inna stepped in. Took care of that potential crack in her plans. And Becks confronted her when she had Gwen, got him killed. Woman was blinded by rage.” A pair of knuckles rapped at the door. Dean glanced through the window at the suit on the other side. “I gotta go. Are they done with you?”

  “Think so. Been through four hours of interviews.” He glanced at the clock. “And, actually, I gotta run, too.” He paused. “Thanks, Dean.”

  Dean smiled. “We’re even, then.”

  Wesley stepped into the hall, almost running into Bobbi and Jessica.

  “Hey!” Bobbi’s face lit the moment she saw him.

  He smiled. “How’s it feel to be the town hero?”

  “Yeah, right. I’ll feel a lot better once they let me out of this station. I’ve got a six-pack and king-sized bed with my name on it.”

  “You’ve earned it.” He shifted his attention to Jessica. “How you doing?”

  “Just wading my way through this damn circus.” She reached into her pocket and slid a small bag into his hand. “That favor you asked me; it’s clean. Not that it really matters now, anyway.” Her eyes filled with sadness. “Thought you might want to hang onto it.”

  He squeezed the bracelet in his hand and slid it into his pocket. “Thank you.”

  Jessica glanced at her watch. “Well, boys and girls, I’m meeting with the suits in five. Then, gathering up the dead bodies and heading to work. Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck. And, Jess, thanks again.”

  After a wink, the medical examiner disappeared down the hallway. Wesley looked at his watch. “Hey, I’ve got something to do real quick. Find me before you head out, okay?”

  “Will do.”

  He looked down at his sister, and his heart swelled. “You were really brave, Sister.”

  She smiled. “Nobody fucks with the Crosses.”

  He smiled back. “Nobody fucks with the Crosses.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t leave without finding me.” As he walked down the hallway, she called out after him. “Wes?”

  He stopped, turned. “Yeah?”

  “Give her a chance, Wes.” She smiled. “I like her.”

  He smiled, turned and jogged down the hall, past the crowded bullpen and men in suits. Jessica was right, the police station was a circus. The moment he pushed out the doors, a cool breeze carrying the fresh scent of fall swept past him. The fog had lifted. The sky was a stunning sapphire blue, the leaves had hit their prime, glowing bright colors of orange and red in the sunlight. It was a beautiful morning, made all the more perfect by the stunning brunette leaning against his truck. Their eyes met, and a smile spread over his face.

  He took a deep breath as he walked down the steps, feeling the tension release from his shoulders.

  Gwyneth Reece was safe.

  “Hey, there,” she said as a strand of hair swept across her face.

  He got the butterflies, and without saying a word, he grabbed her face and kissed her.

  “Wow,” she whispered as he pulled away. “I like your hellos.”

  He ran his fingers through her hair, soaking in the silky feeling of each strand, the warmth of her skin, the curves of her face. “Thanks for coming by.”

  “I just saw your sister.”

  “You’ve made quite an impression on her.”

  “Same goes. You both saved my life…” She frowned and looked down. “Thank you isn’t enough.”

  “You’ve given her a hell of a story and bragging rights for years. That’s enough, trust me. She’ll milk this ’till the day she dies. And you’ve thanked me enough, too, so enough of that.”

  She stared at him for a moment, and a dozen more butterflies entered his stomach.

  “Anything new?” She asked.

  “Inna’s in federal custody now. She’ll be locked up for the rest of her life. Gwen, you were right about everything. She’d taken Lawrence�
��s knife that he used to skin his coons and gave it to Mikhail to kill Leena. You were right.”

  She nodded, glanced down as the weight of the morning filled her face.

  He tipped up her chin. “You’re a hell of a detective, you know that?”

  “Entomologist.”

  “In your head, same thing.”

  She smiled. “Thank you for keeping me updated through the morning.”

  After Gwen had given her statement at the scene, they let her go back to her room to clean up while Wesley had been told to head to the station. The truth was, he’d texted and called her more times than he could count over the last five hours because he needed to hear her voice, be close to her somehow. He needed her comfort.

  She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Flight at two, right?”

  “Right.” She glanced away.

  “You know, I was thinking…”

  “Yeah?” Hope sparked in her tired eyes.

  “You really should take that trip to Hawaii. You deserve it.”

  She laughed. “God, that sounds like heaven right about now.”

  “With me.”

  Her eyebrows slowly lifted.

  “Let’s go. You and me.”

  “To Hawaii?”

  “Why not?” He trailed a finger down her cheek, kissed her again, softly. Sensually.

  “You keep kissing me like that, I’ll do whatever you say.”

  He kissed her again.

  “When?” She grinned.

  “Next week.”

  “Next week?” She laughed, shook her head. “I can’t just… I’ll have to look at my—

  “Clear it. Let’s do it.”

  She stared at him with a mix of disbelief and excitement.

  “Gwen, I don't just want to say goodbye. I don’t want this to be it.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Me either, Wes.”

  He smiled and swept her off her feet. “I’m crazy about you, Gwen. I am.” He smelled her hair, and a warmness came over him. It felt right. She felt right. “We’ll go to the most romantic place on earth and just take it from there. And if there’s a wedding dress involved, so be it.”