by Herron, Rita
Not just something. A body.
Carly? Gia?
Please, dear God, don’t let them be dead.
Adrenaline surged through him, and he crouched low and moved to the right to weave between the trees on the edge of the farm. The man was struggling to remain standing as he carried the woman to the sleigh. A red scarf dangled from his pocket.
Murphy ran toward him, pushing through the foggy blizzard. Just as he neared him, another movement caught his eye.
Gia raced from the shed, fighting the wind to reach the man.
She screamed something, but the sound died in the wind. Then she started pummeling the man from behind.
He shoved Gia, and she stumbled backward and fell from the sleigh, arms and hands flailing for balance. Murphy hurried toward them and raised his gun.
“It’s over, Hanes. Don’t move or I’ll shoot.”
The only part of the man that was visible was his eyes, which looked crazed, shocked that he’d been caught.
A laugh echoed in the air as he lunged toward Gia.
Murphy fired once, then twice, nailing the guy in the chest. Hanes’ body bounced backward, blood spraying the snow.
Gia screamed, jumped up and climbed the sleigh to her sister. Murphy kept his gun on Hanes and inched forward, then knelt and searched for a weapon. He found Gia’s gun in the guy’s pocket, removed it and shoved it inside his jacket. Then he checked for a pulse.
Hanes was breathing. Alive.
Good. Death was too easy for this twisted killer.
He should be forced to face the families of his victims.
Leaving the man bleeding and unconscious on the ground, he jumped onto the sleigh. Gia was leaning over her sister, sobbing her name. The red scarf around Carly’s neck fluttered around her face in the wind. The Eleven Lords-A-Leaping ornament dangled from her wrist.
Was Carly his final victim?
* * *
1:25 a.m., December 20, Tinley
Fear pulsed through Gia, squeezing the air from her lungs. “Come on, Carly, you have to be okay. I can’t lose you.” She unwound that damn scarf, gasping at the sight of the ligature marks around her baby sister’s throat.
Please, God, no…she couldn’t have lost Carly. She was the only family Gia had left. She had so much to make up to her.
“Please, sis, open your eyes,” Gia pleaded.
Murphy eased up beside her, lifted Carly’s arm and checked for a pulse. Her gaze met his, panic pounding in her chest.
Time stood still. Wind beat at them. Snow covered their hoods and clothing. Trees snapped and broke.
She squeezed her sister’s hands in hers. “Come on, sweetie, we have a tree to decorate. I can’t do it without you.” Her voice cracked, the tears flowing, and she laid her head against Carly, clinging to her.
A second later, Murphy touched her shoulder. “She has a pulse, Gia.”
His words barely registered, but when they did, she lifted her head and looked up at him through her tears.
“She’s alive,” he said. “But we need to get her to the hospital.”
Relief gushed through Gia. “You saved her. You saved us,” Gia cried.
He gave her a quick kiss on the lips, hot and tender and full of promises, then he scooped Carly in his arms and carried her down from the sleigh then over to the Jeep. Shaking, Gia ran ahead and opened the door to the back seat, then tossed him the keys when he got to the car so he could heat up the engine.
He placed Carly in the front seat, and she wrapped a blanket around her sister.
Together, they dragged Hanes toward the Jeep and hauled him into the back seat. She handcuffed him then crawled in beside him.
Murphy slid into the driver’s seat and headed toward the hospital. Everywhere Gia looked the countryside was bathed in darkness and white. Power lines were out and trees were swaying, battered now by the intensity of the storm.
Holly unleashed her worst just as they arrived and hurried inside with Carly and Hanes. Thankfully the hospital had back-up generators, so it still had power. Murphy accompanied Hanes as the medics wheeled him to the ER and stood guard over him while he was prepped for surgery.
Gia stayed with her sister to be examined, although the first thing she did was to cut that damn ornament off of her sister’s wrist and bag it for evidence to use against Hanes.
He would spend the rest of his Christmases in prison.
She would spend hers with Carly.
Chapter Thirty-One
Noon, December 24, Tinley
“White Christmas” played in the background as Gia and Carly hung the last of the decorations on the balsam fir, then stepped back to admire the twinkling lights and shining star on top.
The handmade ones from their childhood were special. So were the memories they’d made as a family.
But Gia wanted new memories. She and Carly had agreed to celebrate the holiday together in their mother’s honor. While they still mourned their mother, they rejoiced in the fact that they’d both survived a crazed serial killer.
Hanes had survived surgery and was still in the hospital, although he would be transported to a prison hospital as soon as the roads cleared. When the snow melted, teams would search the tree farm for Mrs. Hanes’ body. According to Brantley, she’d just disappeared. No trace of her after she’d supposedly abandoned her son.
Folsom had been released, too. Apparently, neighbors confirmed that his wife had cheated on him, then falsely accused him of abusing her. Whether there would be fallout from Folsom, as he'd promised, she didn't yet know. And right now, it didn’t matter. She just cared about Carly.
Murphy discovered that a group of teenage boys had stumbled on the bloody deer Folsom had dragged to the woods. They’d stuffed it in the refrigerator at the abandoned house as a prank.
Holly had raged through so quickly the town had been paralyzed for a day, but the storm had moved on now.
Road crews had worked diligently on major highways, and crews had already cleared local streets. The town had decided to salvage what they could of the holiday activities. The residents of Tinley had proven their resilience and were determined to make visitors feel welcome and give them hope.
Today featured a special Christmas tree lighting, along with carolers, followed by holiday cookie decorating and crafts in the town hall. Stores had opened up for last minute gift shopping with Santa Claus visits up until noon. After that, Santa would visit the hospital to hand presents out to the children. The church also had organized a special holiday meal and festivities at Golden Gardens. And a prayer service had been held for Sari, one of Hanes’ victims.
Gia and Carly had chosen to stay tucked in their family home today. The scent of turkey and dressing and homemade apple pie wafted through the old farmhouse. Gingerbread and sugar cookies sat on plates alongside peppermint sticks and a pitcher of eggnog. The wine was chilling in the frig.
The doorbell dinged, and Carly started to get up from the rocker by the fire. “Stay put, sis, I’ll get it.”
“I’m not an invalid,” Carly protested.
“I know, but you’ve been through a lot.” Tears stung Gia’s eyes as she gave her sister a hug, then she rushed to answer the door.
Cody arrived first with roses for her sister, proving Murphy’s theory about his deputy having a crush on Carly true. Almost losing her had made him realize he’d needed to come clean with his feelings. He’d stayed at the hospital around the clock until Carly had been released. Gia definitely envisioned a future for those two with marriage and babies, the family her sister wanted and deserved.
As for herself…
Another engine burst into the sound of ice cracking off the trees outside, and Murphy climbed from his Jeep. He walked around to the passenger side, lifted his mother from the front seat and helped her up to the porch.
Gia welcomed them both and ushered him inside where he helped his mother onto the sofa. She’d come through surgery and was healing at Golden Gardens, but Gia insis
ted he bring her over for Christmas Eve dinner.
“Families should be together for Christmas,” she told Murphy. “No one should be alone.” She’d remembered the last few years when she’d chosen that for herself.
Never again.
Murphy gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks.”
She smiled up at him. “Thanks for coming.”
They walked over to the buffet in the dining room, and she poured a shot of whiskey and herself a glass of wine.
His dark gaze met hers, probing. Serious. “When are you going back to Florida?”
Gia’s heart stuttered at the thought of leaving. It had been her plan all along when she’d first come here. Save her sister, catch a killer, then move on to another case. Just another day on the job.
But now everything had changed. She wanted a life. To be near Carly.
To have a family of her own.
She smiled up at Murphy, amazed she’d been so stupid to think he was small town. “I’m considering a transfer.”
His thick dark brow rose. “A transfer? Where to?”
She shrugged, her heart melting at the hope that flickered in his eyes. “The field office closest to here.”
A smile tilted the corners of his sexy mouth. “I know someone who would like that.”
“Carly?”
He chuckled and pulled her to him. “No, I would.” He twisted her hair between his fingers. “I would like that very much.”
She laughed, a soft, flirty sound that seemed foreign to her. But it felt right. Then she did what she’d wanted to do ever since he’d rescued she and Carly.
She pressed her lips to his and kissed him with all the love she had in her heart.
TINLEY 7 NEWS
“Happy Holidays, folks! This is Meteorologist Bailey Huggins coming to you live from Channel 7 Tinley News.”
Bailey stood, hunched in her winter coat, in front of the “Welcome to Tinley” sign, just as she had a few days ago to warn residents and tourists about the approaching storm of the century.
Except today her broadcast carried a more optimistic tone.
“It’s Christmas Eve, and I’m happy to report that Holly, the blizzard known as the bomb cyclone, that created havoc for tourists and residents the last few days, has left us.
“While Nebraska suffered massive property damage and a devastating loss of cattle and crops, the people of our great state are resilient and will recover. The temperature has risen to a whopping thirty-five degrees this afternoon. And with the sun battling its way through the winter storm clouds, the temperature is expected to rise to forty by nightfall, with wind gusts dying down to five to ten miles per hour. That means the sub-zero wind chill factor is no longer a problem. All this, just in time for Santa to load his sleigh with presents and begin his trek across the world tonight!”
She gestured to the foot-deep snowdrifts piled on each side of the road. “Already local residents have been digging out and are determined to carry on the Christmas Festival that put the town on the map. Snowplows have been working all day to clear roads, stores have opened for last minute shopping, and a special service features caroling and the lighting of the twenty-foot Christmas tree in the heart of the town.
She hesitated. “As we say goodbye to Holly, we pray for those folks in our neighboring states as they bear the brunt of what we have just lived through.”
She signed off, then walked over to the news van and climbed inside. She and her crew planned to celebrate the power of the human spirit and the end of Holly as Tinley residents joined for a special Christmas Eve service.*
* * *
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this book, please do leave a review.
Read on for a sneak peek of the next STORM WATCH novel, Black Ice by Regan Black.
SNEAK PEEK
BLACK ICE
STORMWATCH, Book 4
by Regan Black
Copyright © 2019 by Regan Black
* * *
“Good evening. I’m Joyce Adams for Channel Five Weather. The National Weather Service has just released an updated warning for our area for winter storm Holly. The outlook here in Deadwood is not improving.
“After inundating Nebraska with record accumulations, Holly is determined to keep snow plows and salt trucks in business here in South Dakota. Previous predictions that we should expect two to four feet of snow have been increased to six to eight feet in some areas. Drifts to ten or twelve feet are possible, with the high winds associated with Holly.
“If those numbers sound impossible, that’s because we haven’t seen a storm like this in eighty years. Now is the time to check your emergency supplies. You can find a list at our website, or use the ticker at the bottom of your screen. Please, double check your emergency plans and be prepared for road closures as early as tomorrow morning.
“Trooper Bob, our correspondent from the South Dakota Highway Patrol, has more information. Over to you, Trooper Bob.”
* * *
Chapter 1
Deadwood, South Dakota
With her laptop perched on her knees and ear buds in her ears, Evelyn Cotton hit refresh, hoping this time the man she was scheduled to chat with would be in the online meeting room. Thanks to technology, it was her first face-to-face meeting with a potential investor in the family business she was trying to save.
Except he wasn’t showing up and she couldn’t sit here staring at the screen forever. She had to get over to the casino for her evening shift. This time of year, wild winter storms or not, dealing poker at the Silver Aces kept this family in the black.
Barely.
The investor, Tate Cordell, had contacted Cottonwood Adventures a few weeks ago. They’d hit it off over the phone and he’d requested a personal tour to get a feel for the area and a better idea of her plans to expand and offer winter activities. She was happy to oblige, but he’d cancelled last week’s visit at the last moment, after she’d traded away her shift. With the sudden weather system jacking up flights and travel plans, they’d opted for an online meeting.
“Come on, Tate.”
“He called?” her father, Dale, half-shouted from his beloved recliner. He’d spent the day in his woodshop, restoring a set of kitchen chairs for a friend.
“No.” She shook her head. “Must be trouble with the connection.”
“Or he lost interest.”
Gee thanks. Evelyn suppressed a scathing glare. It was bad enough sitting here as if she’d been stood up by a date. “He’ll call.” She reached for her boots and pulled them on. When he did show—and he would—she wanted to make the most of every remaining minute.
“Then what’s with the boots?”
She forcibly reminded herself that her dad loved her, even when he didn’t show it in normal ways or even in ways she might prefer. Plus, big storms like the one closing in on them usually amped up his depression issues. “There’s no sense wrecking my good shoes crossing the parking lot,” she replied. If the meeting with Tate went well, this might be her last winter at the casino. Her heart actually fluttered at the happy thought.
For several seasons now, her father had posed significant resistance to her many suggestions and ideas that would shift Cottonwood from merely scraping by as an average three-season tour operation to a thriving year-round profitable endeavor. Whether or not he believed she could do it, he seemed determined to prevent her from trying. None of her spreadsheets or marketing plans had changed his mind. All she needed to put them on the map was a modest financial investment for new gear, a storage building, a website overhaul and a couple of new hires. All sounded like a lot, but she knew how to prioritize and make every penny stretch.
Her father, despite the evidence in the roof over his head and food on the table, wasn’t convinced of her ability. Every time she asked, Dale refused to even consider a business loan, leaving Evelyn to get creative.
“I wish you’d stay home.” He pointed at the television, where another aspiring journalist was bundled u
p against the gusting wind and blowing snow. “It’s going to get worse in a hurry.”
“It’s a wonder the mic doesn’t freeze over,” she muttered. Her laptop chimed and she scrambled back in front of the camera, only to see that the meeting had timed out without starting. The chime was an email alert from the casino. Small comfort to know the internet connection was fine on her end. “Damn.”
Her father snorted, either agreeing with her assessment or disapproving of her vocabulary. It didn’t matter. She and Dale hadn’t seen eye to eye on much of anything since her mother, Tess, died during Evelyn’s senior year of college.
“Only goes to show you shouldn’t be out in this mess,” he said.
“I wish it was as easy as calling in,” she said. “My boss just asked me to confirm I can make tonight’s shift and she’s hoping I’ll stick around to work through the storm.”
“You told me they were evacuating the resorts.”
“Dad.” Evelyn clung to her last scrap of patience as she turned off her laptop and stowed it away. Tate would reschedule. It helped to remember that he wasn’t the only backup plan she had working. “They were discussing the option. If people can’t get out of town, they’ll need entertainment.” She’d packed an overnight bag and stowed it in her car, just in case the roads were impassable and she had to stay over.
“You’re risking your neck just so they won’t miss a dollar,” he grumbled when she crossed the room to tell him goodbye.
She could launch into a lecture about the economic boost the casinos brought to Deadwood with events and tourism every single month. The Silver Aces even recommended Cottonwood Adventures to guests when the company was open. She could mention how the casinos reinvested a generous chunk of their profits back to the community year after year. She could, but she’d be wasting her breath.