Mountain Danger (Wild Mountain Men Book 4)

by Vanessa Vale

  “Get in line,” Shane replied.

  Yeah, if we came across this Chad fucker, Nix could have what was left of him after Shane and I were through. On top of how sick the whole thing was, I could only imagine the betrayal she’d felt at thinking it had been Shane.

  “How’d she figure out it wasn’t you?”

  He told me about her seeing Eddie’s ring, that ugly fucking thing he never took off. How she put it all together. Erin at sixteen, Erin as the event planner for his local film. The threat she’d made.

  “If Eve brought the camera and memory cards to the station, it would be evidence. Hell, it still is regardless,” Nix said. “I’m guessing there might be something in there she doesn’t want shared?”

  It was silent for a moment, and I had to assume Shane nodded or gave some nonverbal yes.

  “If it’s on there, we’ll get it taken out. You have my word.”

  “I don’t give a shit about the recording. I’m proud of how my woman looks when I’m fucking her. But I don’t want it to be the only thing I have left of her. Can’t this fucking SUV go any faster?” Shane shouted at Nix.

  “I’m five minutes out,” I said but wondered if it was soon enough.

  If Eddie Nickel was fucked up enough to secretly film fucking dozens of women in his own son’s bed and murder one of them in cold blood, then he wouldn’t hesitate to finish the one person who could destroy it all.

  EVE

  Eddie stood up. “Want some coffee?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer and headed for the kitchen. I stood as well but followed at a slower pace. I watched him in his… natural habitat. His huge mansion, his oversize kitchen with sleek appliances, his fancy coffee maker that hissed and had more buttons than the space shuttle. He didn’t look like a murderer. He didn’t look like a rapist. Handsome didn’t describe him. He was charismatic. Confident. Brash, even.

  He knew he had power, especially over women, and that came out just shy of cocky. It appeared every single one of those women on the secret video, aside from any that were underage, had consented to sex. They’d wanted to sleep with the famous movie star, Eddie Nickel.

  He’d given them what they wanted, but had done so because he’d gotten what he wanted. Video trophies of his conquest. A shrine of sorts to his ability to outwit as many women as he could.

  He’d gotten away with it for years. Probably longer than the collection of memory cards. Technology changed. There had to be VCR tapes somewhere of even earlier conquests.

  His life was a role. Right now he was on a stage of sorts, showing me the Eddie Nickel he wanted me to see. As soon as the police got here, he was going to up his acting chops, probably give an Oscar-worthy performance. I wanted to get a glimpse of the real man. The man Shane and Poppy knew.

  “I have to give you a lot of credit,” I said. The kitchen opened into the great room with a wide counter, probably fifteen feet long, as a divider. I leaned against the granite on the great room side. Eddie Nickel was on the other side, at the far end working the machine.

  He looked my way with a patented smile. I was surprised a sparkle didn’t reflect off the veneers. “Oh?”

  “You almost got away with it.”

  “With what?”

  “Killing Erin Mills.”

  His smile dropped, and he frowned but focused on the hot brew dripping into a mug.

  “She was the only woman who figured it out. Isn’t that right?” I asked. “All the others had no clue. Still don’t.”

  He turned, leaned against the counter, coffee forgotten. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’d have thought, with all your experience with the ladies, that you wouldn’t mess with a woman scorned. You should have given her a role in one of your films.”

  There was a shift in him, so slight I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been focused on him. “Everyone earns a spot in my movies because of their skill.”

  “Women earn theirs on their backs, right?” I countered, then held up one finger. “No, wait. On top. That’s how you like it. The woman’s always on top.”

  “Not in my world,” he said. Yeah, there was the real Eddie Nickel. His voice was deeper, his tone cold.

  “No, not in your world. But in your secret films they are. Every. Single. One.”

  I wanted to get this asshole to talk. I wanted to know why. Maybe then I could understand Chad and how he’d almost destroyed me.

  I’d almost let him, too, if it weren’t for Shane and Finch. If they hadn’t shown me Chad still had a hold on my life, blocking myself off from love. Shane somehow had allowed me in even with what his dad had done to him. He’d sought out love, real love, instead of avoiding it. Finch had fought against a guy just like Chad and Eddie Nickel. A misogynist who believed he held all the power. It had been validated when Finch had gone off to jail even while being honorable.

  Shane deserved the full truth about his father. Finch needed to see an asshole get the justice.

  I stared him down. He knew it was over, that all his secrets were known. It was time to poke the bear.

  “I’m surprised you were afraid of Erin.”

  He gave a dry laugh and slowly shook his head. “Afraid?”

  “She was the only woman who’d stood up to you. To get what she wanted from you. What she deserved.”

  “Deserved? She didn’t deserve a role in my film. She wasn’t good enough.”

  “She earned that role when she was sixteen and you raped her.”

  “Rape? She was there all on her own. She wanted it.”

  He made me sick.

  “It took her a few years, but she had power over you.”

  His eyes flared. Not with heat but cold. Bitter cold. “She held no power.”

  “You lost your cool. Went to her house. Hit her with the glass award.”

  I held my breath. This was it. He’d admitted to being with a sixteen-year-old Erin, but would he admit to killing her?

  “She’s dead. Who has the power now?”

  Taking his time, he walked out of the kitchen and into the great room. I turned to face him but kept my back to the counter.

  “Eddie Nickel, you are under arrest for the murder of Erin Mills.”

  He laughed, this time a full, real one. “You’re arresting me? A woman.”

  I knew the signs. Knew how he talked. Baiting me to get angry, to prove his point and then turn it around on me as being my fault. A narcissist and a sociopath.

  “We can wait for the male members of the Cutthroat police to show up. That won’t change the charges. Or this.” I pulled my small recorder I used for when I interviewed people and needed to listen again or share it with others, like Nix. In this case I wanted insurance that while a confession might be collected outside of the regular channels, I had something.

  “Ironic, isn’t it? You being recorded without knowing? How’s it feel?”

  He cocked his head to the side, studied me. Then the real Eddie Nickel came out, approaching me with a speed that was surprising. “If it’s being recorded, then one more for old times’ sake. Fucking the detective on the case might just get me off.” The grin he gave me was pure evil. “In more ways than one.”

  Before I could do more than move to the right, he grabbed the back of my neck and yanked, pulling me into him. His body was hard, sturdy, his grip strong. Hot breath fanned my face as he glared down at me. Fingers dug into my skin, and his grip was ruthless. “My lawyers will have you painted the slut, asking for it. Begging to be with Eddie Nickel. Conflict of interest wanting my dick, taking the evidence for a ride. The case will be dismissed.”

  I intentionally raised my knee slowly so he’d sense what I was going to do. He turned his hips to shield his groin, and I only kneed him in the thigh. He grinned, thinking he’d bested me. Then I dropped my weight and brought my heel down on top of his foot.

  Like most Montanans in the winter, he’d left his shoes in a mudroom, closet or near an outside door so as not to
track snow and mud around the house. Eddie Nickel was only wearing socks. And since I was a guest, I’d kept my boots on. Also like most Montanans, I wore sturdy leather boots with solid heels. The boots could be worn anywhere—in a stable, on the back of a horse or even in the house of a murderer.

  His hold on my neck dropped, and he howled in pain as he bent at the waist. Stepping to the left, I pivoted, hooking his wrist and wrapping it around behind him. The move was just like what I’d done to Finch, but this time I wasn’t gentle. I wrenched his arm so his shoulder was just shy of coming out of the socket and forced him to the floor.

  I leaned in toward his ear, my hand on his wrist, my knee jammed into his spine and all my weight on him. His face was turned to the side, and he didn’t look confident any longer. “Remember this moment, asshole. And by the way,” I said, pressing even harder into his back. “I do like it on top.”

  The front door burst open. In came Finch—out of breath and eyes wild—and he watched as I grabbed my handcuffs from the holder on my belt and slapped them on Eddie Nickel.

  Finch set his hands on his hips and took a deep breath. I watched as his shoulders dropped. He grinned. “Sugar, glad as fuck you’re wearing clothes this time.”

  14

  SHANE

  My father was in jail for murdering Erin Mills. With the camera and memory card evidence, other charges would pile up. Sex with a minor. Voyeurism. I had a feeling that wasn’t all. It sickened me to think of all that he’d done, that he’d been evil to more than just me and Poppy.

  “You okay?” I asked my sister.

  We were at the diner, and she sat across from me. It was after the dinner rush, so there weren’t many in the place. The scent of fries filled the air, but I wasn’t hungry. She’d been stirring her coffee for the past five minutes, but I wasn’t going to comment. Looking up, she gave me a small smile. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah,” I repeated. I was totally okay with him being in jail. He belonged there for what he’d done to us alone. But it would take me a while to get my head around the extent of his… evil. He truly was evil. The number of women he’d hurt, knowingly and unknowingly. They’d all be identified, then notified of what had been done to them.

  Eve sat next to me, Finch on her other side. Right where she belonged.

  Nix and I got to my father’s house about two minutes after Finch. Nix had broken most land speed records to get there. Eve had been fine—she’d taken care of my father all by herself—while Finch had looked like he’d aged five years. I knew exactly how he felt.

  My father had been transported to the station in one of the backup cars and processed. I hadn’t said a word to him, could barely look his way as he’d been dragged off. Nix had collected the camera and memory cards from Erin’s car and brought them into my father’s house. While we’d figured there wouldn’t be any videos of us with Eve on the camera since it hadn’t been turned on, we’d confirmed that before he stuck it all in an evidence bag and took it to the station.

  I’d driven Eve in her car back to town. I wasn’t letting her out of my sight. Nix and Finch followed in their own vehicles. The station was in chaos when we arrived. Everyone was put on the Mills case. One crew was sent to Eddie Nickel’s house to look for evidence. Another crew was sent to mine to tackle my bedroom where all the filming had occurred. Finch and I had been questioned by the chief himself, since it was all hands on deck, taking our statements and having us sign off on them. Only then were we free to go, although we didn’t go anywhere. No fucking way were we leaving Eve.

  I’d wanted to spank her ass for going to my father’s place alone, but I was too fucking relieved to find her unharmed. Once Eve was done with her work for the day, we’d called Poppy to meet her at the diner. This wasn’t information to give over the phone, and I didn’t want her to be alone when she learned the truth.

  After we laid it all out for her, she didn’t even cry. Barely blinked, although I knew she was stunned. It was going to take a while to process. The mayor had a news conference scheduled for eight, and that meant the media would go nuts. They’d descend on Cutthroat like buzzards on a carcass.

  “I’m going to go away. Leave Cutthroat for a while,” Poppy finally said. We looked to her, waited for her to say more. “I can’t handle the media.”

  She’d been thinking the same as me.

  I nodded. “Good idea.”

  “I’ll go see Fiona, my friend from college. Can’t get much farther away from home than Perth, Australia.”

  “It’s summer down there,” I said.

  She smiled for the first time since I’d shared the news. “I could use a good tan.”

  Nix came in, pulled out a chair and sat beside me. “Holy shit,” he murmured, wiping a hand down his face.

  Beneath the table, Eve took my hand in hers, gave it a squeeze.

  Nix pointed at Eve. “You pull shit like that again, I’ll take you over my knee. I don’t give a shit if your men kill me.”

  “Get in line,” Finch said, eyes snapping with frustration, the same way I felt at what could have happened to Eve.

  “Hey!” she said, taking offense.

  Nix nodded, paying her no attention. “Good.”

  Kit came over, wrapped an arm around Nix and kissed his temple. She was in the diner’s T-shirt and jeans and had been working tables on the other side of the restaurant. From what I’d heard, she was keeping her job at the diner while her party planner business took off. She’d had to start over on her own since Erin had been killed. “I’m done for the day.”

  Donovan arrived next, and he slid a table over to make ours bigger to fit everyone, then took a seat. He tugged Kit down onto his lap. “Kitty Kat,” he said, then gave her a quick kiss.

  I glanced at Eve, who had a look of… envy on her face? Was she jealous of what Kit shared with her men? She shouldn’t be. She had the same thing with us. Maybe it took a sociopathic murderer to make her realize it.

  Finch looked my way, gave me a small nod.

  “My father’s with the Mills family,” Donovan said. “He wanted to tell them personally the murderer had been caught.”

  Of course he did. Everyone at the table knew Donovan’s dad wanted all the glory.

  “What about Lucas?” Nix asked.

  “He was with them but left. He’s got Cy and Hailey. He’s not alone,” Donovan confirmed.

  Finch looked my way, gave me a small nod. We were done here. Poppy wasn’t alone. Nix and Donovan would watch out for her. But Finch and I needed to be with Eve. Only Eve.

  “We’ll be at Finch’s for a while,” I said, pushing my chair back to stand. “As soon as the police release my house, I’m selling it. Burning it to the ground. I don’t give a shit.”

  “We’ll deal with the media,” Nix said. “I’ll have someone on Poppy.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll hire security until I leave town. Eddie Nickel can pay for it.”

  Her eyes were fierce. She was angry, not sad, and that was where she needed to be. She looked my way. “Go. Take care of Eve.”

  “I’m fine,” Eve replied. She hadn’t said much since we’d left the station. “My mind’s just working through everything.”

  Finch took her hand and tugged her up against him, wrapping her in a tight hold. “I know just the way to shut that pretty head of yours off.”

  I couldn’t agree more. “Let’s go,” I said, heading out of the diner and leaving everyone behind.

  EVE

  The mudroom door clicked closed behind us. Shane had driven my car—he’d given me a male death stare when I pulled out my keys—to Finch’s house, and Finch had followed in his big truck. There was so much to do on the Mills case, but for now my work was done. I’d filled out the paperwork, the reports turned in. The memory cards would be searched by the tech team and analyzed. The women would be identified and notified. They would be witnesses in Eddie Nickel’s trial, if it ever happened.

  It was possible his lawyers would make a deal. He
wouldn’t get less than life for what he’d done. Not only because of premeditated murder but the pile of other felonies the DA would be sure to include. Was justice served? I had no idea. But Erin Mills’s life had been destroyed long before Eddie Nickel had hit her with her volunteer award. He’d ruined it when she was sixteen.

  Finch hung his hat on the hook by the door, then looked to me.

  “It’s time to talk, sugar.”

  I took a deep breath, let it out.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  I felt like a teenager caught out after curfew. Worse.

  “You scared the shit out of me. Do you have any idea how I felt when Shane called me and told me you were at the house of a murderer?”

  I looked down at the wood floor, my socked feet.

  Shane spoke up. “Even if he wasn’t the guy who’d killed Erin and secretly recorded fucking half of Cutthroat, you knew about my dad. I told you he was violent. That he hit women. Kids.”

  “He had to be put away. I know this sounds lame, but I tried calling Nix.”

  Shane paced. “There’s no reception for a stretch between my cabin and town. Like Nix said, we should spank your ass, make sure you don’t sit for a week and remember you’re not John Wayne.”

  I looked to Shane, tipped my chin up. “For a guy who got smacked around as a kid, you want to lay a hand on me?”

  Shane looked grim. “Don’t compare what my dad did with what Finch and I are going to do to you.”

  Glancing between them, they had similar expressions. Anger, hurt, frustration, desire. My lips were suddenly dry. “What… what are you going to do?”

  “Show you how much you mean to us,” Finch said. “Hell, we’ve only known you a few days, but we told you, first thing. When you know, you know. Today proved that life is short, that there’s no reason to waste time when what you want is right in front of you.”

  “What do you want?” I asked. My heart was in my throat, and for once I was eager for the dominance in his tone.

  “You,” Shane said, taking a step toward me. “On Nix’s voice mail you said you loved me. Is that true?”