Ice Lake: Gone ColdCold HeatStone Cold
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“And she wants me…what?” Morgan’s eyes widened as she saw the answer in his own.
“I won’t let her hurt you,” he said quickly as he stepped to her, drawing her gently into his arms and cradling her against him.
“What are we going to do?” Morgan hated the trembling in her voice.
“We’re going to get out of here and go to the police. That’s what I should have done in the first place.”
The strength she’d loved about Tom returned to his voice and his demeanor. He’d been so capable and caring after her mother died. Was it any wonder she’d entrusted her love and her life to him?
“I have a set of chains in the back of the SUV,” he said. “You pack up our things. Even if we can only make it as far as the lodge, you’ll be safe there.” He let go of her to return to the bedroom.
Morgan looked toward the front window at the raging storm, remembering the hateful words scrawled on the bedroom wall. With chains on the SUV, they should be able to get to the lodge, where Allison Stuart couldn’t harm them. Maybe they could even get to town and the police.
“Here,” Tom said, pressing something cold into her hand.
She stared down at the gun, then up at him in surprise.
“It’s loaded. I’m assuming you know how to fire it, being a Montana girl.”
She could only nod. He’d brought a gun? He’d been more than worried that there was a chance Allison would follow them—he’d been ready.
Tom gave her a quick kiss. As he drew back, he said, “Coming here was a terrible idea. I’m sorry. But you have to believe me. I was going to tell you everything this weekend and let the chips fall where they may, I swear.”
She wanted to believe him. There’d been a point when she’d had misgivings, right before the wedding. But she’d thought it was simply cold feet. Hadn’t she wanted to believe that together they could overcome anything? She hoped that was true now.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take the gun?” she said as she watched Tom dress to head down the road in the storm to put the chains on the SUV. “Maybe I should go with you.”
“No, you’re safer here with the doors locked and a loaded weapon. I don’t want to have to worry about you.”
She checked the safety on the handgun and stuffed it into her vest pocket as he moved to the front door.
“Lock up behind me.” He hesitated for a moment, as if there was more he wanted to say. “Don’t open the door. No matter what. And if you have to, use the gun.”
The moment he stepped out, she fastened the lock, then checked the back door, as well. From the window, she watched Tom disappear into the blizzard, swallowed up by the whirling snow as he stepped off the porch.
She quickly turned away. Restless, she threw more logs on the fire. The gun felt heavy in the pocket of her winter vest. As she started toward the bedroom to pack, she saw that Tom had brought all their belongings out so she wouldn’t have to go back in there.
He had always been thoughtful and protective. She suddenly felt a paralyzing fear for him. He was unarmed, and with the snow falling as it was, he wouldn’t hear or see Allison coming.
On impulse, Morgan grabbed her coat, moved the gun from her vest to her coat pocket and headed for the door. She opened it cautiously and scanned the porch before stepping out. It was empty. No Allison.
But as Morgan headed down the steps, she saw something in the snow that made her stumble to a stop, her heart in her throat.
Tom’s tracks, while filling in quickly, were still clearly visible. She stared at them, shaking her head in both shock and disbelief.
Tom hadn’t headed back down the road to where they’d left the stuck SUV.
Instead, his tracks disappeared in the same direction as the ones Morgan had found earlier, after discovering their ruined honeymoon snowman—toward that nearby cabin in the woods.
She felt so betrayed and alone she almost sat down in the snow and cried. Tom had known all along where Allison was staying. He’d lied yet again. He hadn’t gone to put chains on the SUV so they could go to the lodge. He’d gone to see his crazy, vindictive old girlfriend.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LUKE ALMOST MISSED the turnoff to Ice Lake Resort, the snow was coming down so hard. Wind whipped the icy flakes across the road in what locals called “snowsnakes.”
He regretted telling Morgan anything. He should have waited until she returned from her weekend honeymoon—if it wasn’t already too late.
That thought shook him to his core. The short, close-to-home honeymoon. Was that, too, a sign?
He was terrified Tom Cooper might have chosen the resort for a reason that had nothing to do with a honeymoon escape. Just as he’d chosen the cabin farthest from the lodge for a reason.
As Luke turned up the narrow road, he prayed he would get there in time. He knew his chances of driving all the way to Ice Lake Resort were unlikely, given that the route was deep with snow and drifting badly. But he figured he might make better time on the snowmobile, anyway.
His cell phone rang. He grabbed it, praying it was Morgan.
It was his friend the private investigator, who’d promised to see what else he could find out about Tom Cooper aka Eric Wagner.
“The sheriff in Oak County, Arkansas, arrested a man named Louis Stuart for the crime. He was convicted and sent to prison for life. But, Luke, the sheriff said he has always suspected that the wrong man went to prison, that Louis was framed.”
“What are you saying?”
“There were several suspects. One of them was Eric Wagner. The other was his girlfriend.”
Luke gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. “The sheriff thought Eric Wagner might have killed his own family?” Luke had been in the newspaper business long enough that he shouldn’t have been shocked. But this was the man Morgan had married. The man who was now alone with her at an isolated mountain cabin. Even the thought that Tom Cooper might be a killer…
“Actually, the sheriff said he has always suspected that Eric and his girlfriend, Allison Stuart, might have done the deed together. That’s definitely what the older brother who went to prison believed.”
“Wait,” Luke said, trying to drive through the storm and still make sense of everything. “The man you believed was framed was the girlfriend’s older brother?”
“Yep. He was killed last year during an altercation in the prison. For years, he’d claimed he was innocent.”
Luke couldn’t believe this. “You said Eric was out with his girlfriend that night, so they were each other’s alibi.” He swore. “No one else saw them at the time of the murders?”
“Nope. It was just their word that they were parked up on some mountain outside of town, doing what teenagers do at that age,” his friend said.
“So they might have both lied. What did you find out about this old girlfriend, Allison Stuart?”
“That’s where it gets interesting. She flew into Montana last week. Until now, she’s been in and out of mental institutions.”
Heart pounding, Luke hung up and floored the pickup, even though he knew he was taking a hell of a chance, given the road conditions and the visibility. But he was suddenly terrified for Morgan.
MORGAN STARED AT the tracks in the snow. Tom had lied again. She stumbled back against the steps, grabbing the porch railing to keep from falling. She’d believed him. She’d felt compassion for him. She’d forgiven him for lying to her and had remembered why she’d fallen in love with him.
And what had he done?
Lied right to her face. Again.
Had he ever planned to put chains on the SUV? Or had that just been a ruse?
She pulled herself up the stairs, the wind howling around her. Snow pelted her face and had already formed another drift against the cabin door.
Her hand found the gun she’d stuffed in her pocket—and her cell phone. She hurriedly pulled out the phone, not bothering to wait until she got inside out of the cold before she hit Redial.
The ringing stopped. She looked down at her phone. Searching for service.
With a cry of frustration, she snapped it shut and shoved it back into her pocket. She looked out through the falling snow toward the other cabin. Tom could be coming back any moment.
Hurriedly, she opened the door, stepped inside and closed it behind her. As she started to lock it, it dawned on her how stupid she’d been. Not just in trusting Tom, but in bothering to lock the door.
Both doors, front and back, had been locked when she and Tom had left for brunch earlier, and still Allison had gotten in. Either Tom had forgotten to lock it after he’d gone back for his wallet…or Allison had a key to their cabin.
But if that was true…
Morgan turned, knowing she shouldn’t have be surprised when she found a woman she’d never seen before standing just inside the back door with a gun in her hand.
CHAPTER NINE
TOM KNOCKED AGAIN at the cabin door, then tried the handle. The knob turned in his gloved hand. “Allison?”
He stepped inside, thinking she must not have heard his knock with the wind howling the way it was. He was lucky he’d found the cabin at all in that blizzard outside. “Allison!”
The place felt chilly, and he noticed that she’d let her fire burn out. He could still smell the smoke as he walked in. The cabin was exactly like the one he and Morgan shared. Except there was no red spray paint on the bedroom wall, he noticed, as he glanced through the open doorway.
The bathroom door was also open. Both rooms were empty.
He let out a curse. He’d told Allison to sit tight, when he’d spoken to her from a lodge phone earlier. He’d asked her to wait, saying he would get away as soon as he could so they could talk.
Though there really was nothing to talk about, and he didn’t want to spend time arguing with her. Either she could accept the way things were going to be or he would have to make sure she got nowhere near Morgan.
But where the hell was Allison? Surely she hadn’t gone to the lodge for something. In hindsight, giving her money had been a mistake. He knew she’d just want more.
Stepping into the small kitchen, he opened the refrigerator. Empty except for ice cubes. She hadn’t thought to bring food?
He slammed the door and headed for the bedroom, wondering what she had brought. Allison used to hunt with her dad and brother. Her family had owned all kinds of guns, not that she could have gotten one on the plane. Still, she would know where to get one. Here in Montana, a weapon could be bought at any gun show or from a classified ad in the newspaper.
There would be no record of a gun purchased from a private individual. Allison was a smart woman. She would know how to work the system, and that worried him.
He glanced at his watch. He had to get back to Morgan. But where was Allison? She’d promised she would wait so they could get this hashed out.
At the back door, he looked out. Did he really expect her to come slogging through the drifts from the direction of the lodge? He’d started to close the door when he saw tracks in the snow behind the cabin.
With a shock, he realized there was only one reason Allison would take the back way—in the opposite direction from the lodge.
THE WOMAN WAS PETITE and blonde, with big blue eyes and a small, slightly turned-up nose. The freckles that dusted her cheeks made her look much younger than the age Morgan knew she must be.
Allison Stuart wouldn’t have looked dangerous at all if it wasn’t for the large handgun she gripped, the barrel leveled at Morgan’s heart.
Surprisingly, the gun didn’t frighten her as much as the tears in the other woman’s eyes.
“Tom went to see you.” Morgan wasn’t sure why she said that, given the situation. It was just the first thought that popped into her head.
“I know. I saw him and took the back way. That’s why I’m here.” Her voice was soft and Southern and cracked with emotion. “We don’t have much time.”
Time for what? Morgan was afraid to ask. She thought of the gun in her coat pocket, but feared what the woman would do if she tried to reach for it.
“So you’re his wife.”
“And you’re Allison.” Morgan did her best not to appear as terrified as she suddenly felt. The woman seemed meek—except for the gun. But there was that destroyed snowman, and the horrible threatening words scrawled in red paint on the bedroom wall.
“He told you about me?” Allison asked, sounding surprised.
“He had to, didn’t he? After what you did to our snowman and our bedroom wall.”
The woman frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Apparently Tom wasn’t the only liar in his former relationship.
Morgan felt anger burn through her veins, hot as flowing lava. “Right. You didn’t destroy our snowman, spray paint obscenities on our bedroom wall or follow us here. Next thing you’re going to tell me that’s not a real gun you’re holding on me.”
“Oh, the gun is real, but I don’t know anything about a snowman or—”
“You didn’t write that on the wall?” Morgan demanded, stepping toward the bedroom and flinging open the door.
All the anger died in her as she saw the expression on the other woman’s face. Terror. Morgan frowned in confusion as she thought about the snowman she and Tom had built together, and the obvious violence with which it had been destroyed. Violence and hatred. Just like the words painted on the wall.
“If you didn’t do this, then who…” The rest of Morgan’s words died on her lips and she felt herself begin to tremble. She shook her head. “Tom wouldn’t—”
“His name is Eric Wagner, and you have no idea what he is capable of doing. He let my brother die in prison for a crime he didn’t commit,” she said, pain shimmering in her blue eyes.
“Your brother killed Tom’s family.”
“Is that what Eric told you?” She let out a sound, half laugh, half sob.
It sent a chill down Morgan’s spine.
“I was with him that night. Don’t you think I know what happened? I begged him to at least spare his little brother and sister, but he said they were old enough to testify against him.”
This was all wrong. “No, he wouldn’t…he couldn’t.” Morgan thought of Tom. He might be a liar, was a liar, but he wasn’t a killer.
“He told you he was out with me that night, didn’t he?” Allison demanded. “That he dropped me off and went home and found them?” She nodded, as if she knew exactly what he’d said. “That was the story he came up with after he killed them. He took a shower, burned his bloody clothes, then he changed and took me home.”
Morgan was shaking her head, fighting the urge to put her hands over her ears.
“I couldn’t bear another minute in that house. I started walking home, but he came after me. I remember the feel of his pickup’s headlights on my back. I stepped off the road and almost took off through the woods. But I knew he would track me down, and when he did, he’d kill me, too.”
“If he is a killer, then why didn’t he?” Morgan asked. “Wasn’t he afraid you would talk?”
Allison let out a humorless laugh. “I was his alibi. The sheriff would have been suspicious if I had been killed, too. No, he needed me alive and scared. He knew I would lie for him to protect my baby.”
The baby Allison lost. “If you’re so afraid of him, then why do you want him back? Why follow him to Montana, to Ice Lake?”
Allison looked shocked. “He’s the one who found me. He sent me a plane ticket to come up here. How do you think I knew where the two of you would be? That’s why I waited until I saw him leave this cabin. I came here to warn you.”
No, this was all twisted to make it look like Tom—Eric—was… “If y
ou came to warn me, then why did you bring that gun?” Morgan glanced from the woman’s face to the gun gripped in her hands.
“I wasn’t sure you would listen without this.” Allison’s voice broke. “He plans to kill you.”
“Why would he do that? He married me—”
“For your money.” She must have seen Morgan’s surprise. “He knows about the money your mother left you. He’s known almost since he met you. Why do you think he rushed you into marrying him?”
Morgan felt her legs give out from under her. She stumbled back and sat down hard on the hearth. It was one thing to hear that Tom knew about her inheritance. It was another to realize that there was only one way Allison could have known about it.
“I don’t believe you,” Morgan managed to say around the lump that had formed in her throat. It was a lie and Allison knew it.
She moved closer and lowered the gun. “Why do you think he killed his entire family? His father had just come into some money. Eric knew he would never see a cent of it, the way he and his dad got along. His father made him work in the hardware store every day after school, and Eric hated it.”
“No,” Morgan said, but it was a feeble, defeated sound. “Why would you fly here if you knew—”
“He sent me the plane ticket so I could help him get rid of you. He promised to marry me and share the money with me. You think I don’t know what he really has planned?” Allison scoffed at that. “I came because I knew if I didn’t, I’d always be looking over my shoulder, knowing that one day he’d be coming after me. The only reason he hasn’t before now was because I’ve been sick.”
Sick? “He said you’ve been in mental institutions.” A good reason not to believe anything the woman says, Morgan reminded herself.
“I couldn’t live with what had happened. I had a nervous breakdown, and when I finally told the truth, no one believed me.”
Morgan shook her head. “I don’t believe you, either.”
“I was there that night. I heard their screams. I’m the only eyewitness. I’m sure Eric’s been planning how to get rid of me for years. He just couldn’t get to me as long as I was in the mental institution. But now that I’m out…he’s figured on a way to get rid of both of us.”