Ice Lake: Gone ColdCold HeatStone Cold

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Ice Lake: Gone ColdCold HeatStone Cold Page 7

by Daniels, BJ; Daniels, BJ; Daniels, BJ


  Where was Tom? Morgan wondered. He should have been back by now. Or maybe after he went to Allison’s cabin, he really did go down to put chains on the SUV.

  “You want to know who destroyed your snowman and scrawled those words on that wall? Eric. He wants you to think I’m the one you have to fear. He plans to kill you, make it look like I did it, then kill me. He gets rid of us both and everyone who knows the truth. Then he walks away with your inheritance.”

  Morgan looked at her. “But he signed—”

  “A prenuptial agreement? Except if you’re dead…”

  “No, Tom—”

  “There is no Tom Cooper. There is only Eric Wagner.” Allison suddenly glanced over Morgan’s shoulder, the woman’s terror palpable in the small cabin. “He’s going to be coming back any minute. You’d better decide who you believe.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  LUKE SAW A VAN STUCK in the middle of the road ahead. He swore and hit his brakes. There was no way he was getting by. Fortunately, he wasn’t that far from the lodge, just a few miles. He took the pistol he kept under the seat of his pickup, checked to make sure it was loaded, and tucked it into his coat pocket.

  Hurriedly, he looked around and found a place to pull off and unload the snowmobile. He drove the machine off the bed of the truck and onto the snowpack at the edge of the road as fast as he could.

  Steering around the stuck van, he saw that the vehicle was empty. The driver must have already hiked down to the highway to catch a ride.

  Luke gave the snowmobile full throttle and raced up the road, bursting through one drift after another. Snow billowed up in a blinding cloud around him, with a dizzying effect.

  He tried not to let himself consider what might have already happened to Morgan. When he thought of her, he saw her in sunshine, her hair ablaze with the golden light, her eyes bright as diamonds. He smiled at the memory of those sunny days when a group from the newspaper had played miniature golf during their lunch hour.

  She’d been good, often beating him. He thought about how fun it had been and how, when Tom came into her life, Luke had known the lunches, the miniature golf, all that was behind them. A lot of other little things were behind them, as well.

  Funny how it was often the small things that broke your heart.

  Visibility improved once the road narrowed, and he could make out the blur of dark pines through the falling snow. He drove as quickly as possible, feeling time slipping away.

  All he could do was pray Morgan was all right. What if he was wrong about Tom Cooper? What if the right man had gone to prison and Tom was merely a victim, and by now Morgan had forgiven her husband for lying to her?

  Luke could live with that. As long as Morgan was all right, that’s what mattered. As he raced on, the roar of the snowmobile engine loud in his ears, all his instincts told him that the last thing Morgan was doing right now was enjoying her honeymoon.

  MORGAN HEARD THE THUMP of boot heels on the porch at the same time Allison did.

  “Do you believe me?” the woman cried in a hoarse whisper, her voice tight with alarm.

  Morgan didn’t get a chance to answer before they heard the key in the lock. The door swung open and Tom stepped in.

  “Stay right there,” Allison ordered, swinging the gun so it was pointed at him. She stepped back, making it possible to cover both Tom and Morgan if either of them tried anything.

  “She knows, Eric,” Allison said. “I told her everything.”

  He nodded. “That must make you feel better.” When he spoke again, it was to Morgan. “She hasn’t hurt you, has she?”

  She shook her head, although she’d never been more hurt, scared or uncertain.

  Tom slowly closed the door behind him and then looked at Allison. “You don’t want to do this,” he said quietly to her. “This isn’t going to accomplish anything.”

  “I can’t let you kill her,” Allison said.

  “I’m not going to kill anyone.”

  The woman shook her head. “I told you, she knows everything.”

  He cocked his head, and when he spoke there was sadness in his tone. “You’ve been in a mental institution off and on for the past twelve years. I understand—you’re sick. But—”

  “You did that to me,” she cried. “I couldn’t live with what I saw you do. When I tried to tell the truth, no one believed me. You made sure of that.”

  He shook his head and glanced at Morgan as if to say, You see why you can’t believe anything she says?

  But Morgan feared it was Tom she couldn’t believe. “You told me you were going to put chains on the SUV,” she said.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t bring any chains. I went to find Allison, to try and talk to her and warn her off. All I was thinking about was protecting you.”

  Morgan desperately wanted to believe him.

  He must have seen her waver. “So who are you going to believe?” he asked. “Your husband? Or the unbalanced woman who wants to destroy him? Destroy us?”

  “He’s lying. He’s going to kill us both,” Allison cried.

  Morgan slipped her hand in her coat pocket. The movement wasn’t missed by Allison or wasted on Tom. He shook his head and she slowly removed her hand without the gun.

  “I’m sorry I lied to you about my past, Morgan, but now you can understand why. What woman would marry me if she knew about all this?” He shot a look at Allison, his meaning clear. Then his gaze came back to her. “I’m so sorry, Morgan.” He started toward her.

  “Don’t take another step or I’ll shoot you, Eric.” Allison waved the gun at him. “You can’t talk your way out of this like you did the murders. She knows that you only married her for her money.”

  “I know about the inheritance,” Tom admitted. “But I will support my wife on what I make. That money is Morgan’s. She knows how I feel about that.”

  “How did you find out?” Morgan asked.

  “By accident. I wish I hadn’t,” Tom said. “Remember when someone broke into your apartment back when we first started dating?”

  “You wouldn’t let me call the police because nothing appeared to be missing.” Her gaze swung to Allison. “You—”

  “No, I told you, Eric only flew me up here last week.”

  Tom shook his head. “I checked with the mental institutional in Arkansas. Allison had been released just days before that.”

  “That’s a lie!” she cried. “See how he twists it all around?” Her voice was shrill in the small cabin. The gun shook in her hands. “All he cares about is the money. It’s why he killed his family. Why he is going to kill you!”

  “Do you really think I would kill my family for a few thousand dollars?” Tom demanded of Morgan. “Honey, Allison couldn’t bear the thought that the brother she’d looked up to for years could do such a thing. But Louis had a violent streak and he’d threatened my father in front of several people.”

  “You egged him on,” Allison cried. “You set him up so he would look guilty. You planned the whole thing so Louis would take the fall for you.”

  Tom shook his head. “She has never been able to accept it. That’s why she’s been institutionalized all these years.”

  “Stop talking about me as if I’m not in the room!” Allison cried. She turned a little to look at Morgan. “He’s lying. You have to believe me.”

  Morgan could see the woman was starting to come apart. She was trembling, her eyes shiny with tears.

  “I married you because I love you,” Tom said directing his words to Morgan as he took another step toward her. “I couldn’t care less about your money. Did I hesitate to sign the prenuptial agreement? No. All I care about is you,” he said as he took yet another step.

  “Don’t!” Allison cried.

  “You going to shoot me, Allison?” he asked without looking at her.

  She was crying. “I don’t want to. But I have to stop you. I should have stopped you that night, but I loved you and our baby and I thought… I’ll never forgive m
yself. That’s why they locked me up, Eric. Because I tried to kill myself after I lost our child.”

  Allison pulled back her jacket sleeve with the hand holding the gun. Even from across the room, Morgan could see the scars crisscrossing her wrist.

  “When I saw you going back into the house with the gun, I didn’t think you would kill them. Even when you started arguing with your father about the money, I…” She was crying hard now, the gun wobbling in her hands.

  “If you kill me, they will put you away again, Allison,” Tom said as he took another step toward Morgan. “They already suspect you’re crazy. But if you shoot me, they’ll know it.”

  Morgan saw what he was doing—trying to get to her, to step between her and the madwoman with the gun. How could she have ever questioned this man’s love for her?

  “Tom, don’t,” she cried, fearing that Allison would shoot him if he took another step.

  He closed the distance so quickly that Allison didn’t have a chance to get a shot off. But it was Morgan who was taken by surprise. She’d been so sure he was trying to reach her to protect her from Allison.

  But to her shock, he grabbed Morgan, locking an arm around her throat and dragging her against him, using her like a shield as he reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the gun.

  He leveled it at his former girlfriend. “Put down the weapon, Allison.”

  She shook her head. She was still crying, the gun gripped in both trembling hands now, confusion and fear in her eyes.

  “I told you,” she said to Morgan in a defeated voice. “Didn’t I tell you? If you had just trusted me…”

  “Tom,” Morgan choked out. “What are you doing?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, Morgan, but I would have sooner or later, anyway.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MORGAN GRABBED FOR THE gun, but Tom wrenched it away and tightened his grip on her throat. She fought desperately to free herself from his hold, but he was bigger and stronger and her attempts were futile.

  “This is what I believe is called a Mexican standoff,” Tom said with a laugh. “So what are you going to do, Allison? Wish you’d taken my offer, don’t you.”

  “You planned to kill me either way.” There was a flatness in her voice as she leveled the gun at them.

  Morgan saw that Tom was hoping Allison would shoot her. Then he would shoot Allison, and do just what the woman had tried to warn her he would. He’d be the grieving widower, with Morgan’s inheritance to spend.

  Anger bubbled up in her. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Allison,” Morgan said, her voice hoarse from the pressure Tom was putting on her throat.

  Right up until he had grabbed her, she had wanted to believe that she hadn’t been wrong about the man she’d married. How many women stayed in bad marriages because they couldn’t admit they’d made a mistake?

  Tom had fooled her. She saw that he’d been doing that not only to women for years, but to himself, as well. He took what he wanted, seeing himself as the victim.

  What frightened her most was the planning that had gone into this. Had it been from that first day on the street, when he’d picked up the Christmas package she’d dropped? Had he known then who she was, that her mother had recently died?

  Morgan realized that working as a photographer at the newspaper in a small town, she’d often had her photo run for one promotion or another. It would have been fairly easy for him to find out she was an only child, and that her parents had been well-to-do, but were now both dead.

  “Don’t hurt Allison,” she managed to say as she fought to loosen his hold on her throat. “You can have my money. Just let her—”

  The boom of a gunshot report thundered in the small cabin. She stared at Allison, waiting for the woman to fall to the floor, believing Tom had fired the shot.

  But it was Tom who let out a curse and staggered back, dragging her with him.

  “You stupid bitch.” As he raised the gun, Morgan tried to throw him off balance, but her effort was wasted. The gunshot next to her ear was deafening.

  Allison looked stupefied for a moment as she stared down at the hole in her down jacket. Her head came up. She glanced across the room at Tom, resignation on her face. “I loved you, Eric.” She lifted her gun.

  Morgan saw what was going to happen as Tom took aim again. She drew her feet up, throwing all her weight forward. The move took him by surprise, driving him off balance as he fought to keep his hold on her.

  The report of the gunshot was followed an instant later by Tom’s scream of pain. As another blast filled the air, Morgan realized her efforts had been for nothing. She hadn’t saved Allison or herself.

  The woman dropped to the floor, the gun clattering on the wooden planks next to her.

  AN EARLY MEMORY OF MORGAN suddenly filled Luke’s thoughts as he raced up the road to Mountain Badger Cabin. It was of her standing in the darkroom doorway. He remembered turning to find her there, and wondering how long she’d been watching him. Since the darkroom was no longer used for anything but storing supplies, he’d been in there searching for one of the older cameras to give to the new intern to use.

  “Hey,” he’d said, surprised to see her, and equally glad. She’d stood silhouetted against the light of the newsroom.

  “So what do you think?” she’d asked.

  He’d grinned. “About anything in particular?”

  “I’m wearing a dress.” She’d sounded mildly exasperated with him. Normally she dressed like the rest of them, in jeans with a shirt, and sometimes a jacket, if they were going to be out covering a story.

  He’d stepped closer, taking her in with one glance. The coral-colored dress highlighted her lightly tanned skin. There was a summer glow to her, and he’d noticed a sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, even though she’d tried to hide them with makeup.

  The dress accented her curves in a way that made him ache inside. He’d cleared his throat. “I love it.” I love you, he’d wanted to say. “You’re going to drive the male reporters wild.”

  She’d laughed then, that wonderful musical laugh of hers.

  “I’ve never seen you looking more beautiful.”

  She had swatted at him playfully, but he’d sworn that she’d blushed as she’d ducked back out of the darkroom, her last words hanging in the air. “Thought I’d better run it by my best friend before I started driving all the male reporters wild,” she’d joked.

  Her best friend. He remembered standing alone in the darkroom as the door had closed behind her, wishing he had taken her in his arms and kissed her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  TOM HAD BEEN HIT AGAIN, but Morgan had no idea how badly. All she knew was that this was probably her last chance to save herself. She drove her foot back and caught his shin with the heel of her boot.

  He let out a curse and loosened his grip on her throat enough that she could twist in his arms. She struck out at him with her fists as he tried to get his arm locked around her neck again. Bringing her leg up, she caught him in the groin.

  Tom let out a whoosh of air and slumped forward. Morgan untangled herself from him and dived toward the door of the cabin.

  Clutching the knob, she twisted it frantically, realizing too late that Tom had relocked the door when he’d come back in. Another boom filled the air. Wood splintered next to her as the bullet he’d fired barely missed her.

  Morgan turned the lock, wrenched the door open. A gust of cold wind and snow blew in, taking her breath. If she could get out of the cabin and run fast enough—

  Tom grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her off her feet.

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” he snapped as he dragged her back inside, kicking the door closed.

  He swung her to him. Blood had soaked through his wool coat, oozing from wounds at his shoulder and left arm. Unfortunately, neither appeared life threatening. Nor had they slowed him down. All Allison had done was make him more dangerous.

  His face twis
ted in pain and rage. Morgan stared at him, seeing the stranger he was—coming at her with a vengeance. He didn’t even sound like the man she’d met that day before Christmas. He’d never loved her.

  And now he was going to kill her.

  She saw it all as she stared into a face she’d once thought handsome. He would use Allison’s gun. With him wounded, he would appear to have tried to save his new bride. Allison had only made his plan more foolproof. He would come out of this looking like a hero. A rich hero.

  “No one is going to believe that Allison killed me,” Morgan said, even though she knew better. Tom had set it up too well. Once they saw the spray-painted walls, and Tom told them about the snowman and Allison’s past mental problems…

  The whine of a snowmobile could suddenly be heard in the distance. Tom froze, the gun in his hand motionless as he listened. It sounded as if the driver of the machine was headed this way. Was it possible?

  Morgan thought of Luke. He’d been so afraid for her. No, he wouldn’t have come after her. He couldn’t have gotten up into the mountains in this storm. And yet she realized that was exactly the kind of thing he would do.

  Hope soared in her heart, but quickly crashed as she heard the snowmobile’s engine die, plunging the cabin into silence.

  Tom relaxed, and she saw the change in him. He smiled through his pain and anger, knowing he was going to get away with this. He was already planning on how he would spend her money.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t see through you.”

  “You made it too easy,” he boasted.

  She nodded, hating that it was true. She’d wanted to be swept off her feet, carried away on a big white horse like a princess in a fairy tale, and Tom had been more than willing to play the role.

  “Try to understand,” he said, sounding more like the man she’d thought she’d married. “This way Eric Wagner finally dies. It will be over here, today, don’t you see? You are really going to make me the man I was supposed to be.”

 

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