by Meghan March
“About to cross Orchard Road.”
“Toward the Harris property?” I ask, picturing where she is.
“And Nicole’s place.”
“It ain’t her.”
“I guess we’ll find out. Shit, the reporter just turned off onto the Harrises’ land. Gotta go. Get here.”
When she hangs up, Banner looks at me. “You have to explain.”
“The Harrises have a compound out on County Road 45. Main house, guest house, and a couple cabins. Emmy used to live in the guest house before she built her own place on the other side of the property. Nicole rents one of the cabins from them cheap so she can save to buy the bowling alley.”
“So that means . . . what?”
I shake my head. “I don’t fucking know.”
I haul ass there, and I’m probably ten minutes behind Julianne and the reporter when I pull onto the property. The main drive splits in two directions, right to the main house and guest house, and left to the cabins.
Even though I hate that my gut tells me to go left, I do it anyway.
When I see two cars pulled off the side of the road, I feel like I swallowed a rock. “Fuck. It can’t be Nicole. No fucking way.”
I park behind Julianne’s Jeep, wishing she would have kept her nose out of this. The other car belongs to Memphis Lockwood and her cameraman.
“Stay here,” I tell Banner.
“No fucking way. I’m going with you.”
“Not a chance in hell when I don’t know what I’m walking into. Stay. Here.”
“Fine. But if something happens to you, I’ll kick your ass myself.”
I lean over the console and press a hard kiss to her lips before pulling back. “Don’t worry. I’m marrying you, so I’m sure as fuck coming back in one piece. Pick a goddamned date, Banner.”
I reach beneath the seat, pull out my gun, and climb out of the truck.
Chapter 41
Logan
I tuck my 9mm into the back of my jeans and stay in the cover of brush as I make my way up to the cabin. It’s times like this when all of Uncle Sam’s training comes right back like I never took my camis off.
The yelling reaches me first. A man. No, two men. And at least two women. It’s coming from Nicole’s cabin.
The small wooden structure has a front door and a back door. It’s mostly two big rooms—a living room and kitchen, and the bedroom. The bathroom is walled off most of the way to the ceiling, but open above. There’s a tiny kitchenette along the east wall, and that’s where I head because of the little window above the sink.
The glass looks like it hasn’t been washed in an age, but through the film, I can make out a few people.
What in the ever-loving fuck?
Police Chief Timmons is facedown on the floor in the living room, and there’s a dark puddle around his head. Jesus fucking Christ. If he’s alive, it’ll be a miracle.
Memphis Lockwood is nowhere in sight, but I can hear Julianne’s muffled voice inside the cabin. The man inside turns to the left, and I get a better look.
Rusty Mills? I haven’t seen him since the bowling alley incident with Emmy, the night Banner got punched in the face by Tricia. Rusty has Nicole tied to a chair, and fury burns through me when he swings and connects with her face. Her head lolls to the side before falling limp.
He’s a dead man.
I reach for my phone, but it’s not in my pocket. Shit, I left it in the truck.
Banner’s smart, though, which means I sure as hell hope she’s calling Cody.
A stick cracks, and I yank my gun out of my jeans and whip around to find Memphis Lockwood behind me.
She raises her hands. “Don’t shoot me. Please. I’m just trying to get the truth.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, woman. Watch your step. You call the cops?”
“Service sucks out here, but I think they’re coming. God, I hope so.”
“What the hell happened?” I ask, keeping my voice low and staying out of sight.
“I hid in the woods when I heard someone coming behind me. I thought maybe it was the property owner, but it was the hairdresser. She tried to look in the windows, but the man saw her and dragged her inside. I was more careful. I think Timmons is dead, though.”
I’m still processing everything she said and working out a plan of attack when Memphis’s eyes go wide at the unmistakable sound of a revolver being cocked behind me.
“Put the gun on the ground, and turn around.”
I turn and face Emmy Harris. “What the hell are you doing, Emmy?”
“You’re trespassing.” She swings the barrel from me to Memphis and back again.
The sight before me doesn’t make any sense. “Did you call the cops, Emmy? Rusty has Julianne, Nicole, and Timmons inside.”
Her mouth drops open into a little O. “You don’t say?”
A shot is fired in the cabin, and Julianne’s muffled voice goes quiet.
Instead of fear, the only feeling inside me is the familiar coldness I honed as a marine.
Emmy smiles, but it’s not a smile like I’ve ever seen before. “Who do you think he shot?” She blinks, and the smile dies. “You’re gonna be next, Logan, if you don’t put that gun on the ground like I said.”
One thing you learn real fast in battle is that not having a gun means you’re dead.
Emmy swings the gun back to Memphis. “You have three seconds before I shoot her, and it’ll be all your fault that she dies. At this range, there’s no way I can miss.”
Knowing she was captain of the girl’s trap-shooting team in high school, I don’t doubt her aim for a second. And nothing except the loss of someone else’s life could convince me to put my gun down.
I crouch and lay it in the leaves at my feet.
“Do I look like an idiot? Kick it toward me.”
I follow her directions, but start talking. “Whatever Rusty made you do, you can tell Cody and Timmons, and I’m sure they’ll understand it was all under duress.”
Emmy laughs. “Timmons is already dead. And now you’re all gonna join him because I’m not going down for this. Can you imagine what my parents would say?”
“Why’d you do it, Emmy?” This question comes from Memphis. “The meth? I know you’ve been using your supplier’s trucks to ship it out of town, and you planted it in Logan’s shop and set the explosion as a distraction.”
Emmy narrows her eyes on Memphis, making me wish the woman would shut up, because the look on Emmy’s face says her patience is gone.
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Big-city reporter, coming down here and getting into things that are none of your business. What makes you think I have anything to do with it?”
Memphis, who I have to admit has a pair of brass balls, sounds bored as she replies. “I followed the money. And you’ve been hemorrhaging it for over a year. Your CPA sold you out, Emmy. Don’t ever stop paying your accountant. They know all the dirty secrets. What are your parents going to think when they find out you spent every dollar the restaurant made and more? It’s embezzlement when you don’t own it.”
“Fucking Ashcroft. He’ll pay. I’ve got more dirt on him than he’ll survive.” Emmy’s tone drips acid as she talks about the CPA.
The door to the cabin slams, and Rusty comes around the side of the building, gun in hand.
“Ain’t this quite the little party. Too bad they’ll never find your bodies.”
“Whose idea was it?” Memphis asks, apparently not able to resist her reporter’s nature.
“The meth?” Rusty shrugs. “Mine. And since Emmy didn’t have a problem keeping Timmons too busy fucking her tight little cunt to investigate a damn thing, we could’ve kept this going forever.” He shakes his head. “But no. Y’all had to get nosy.”
The pieces fall together.
“You stole from your family and sold meth to make the money back.” My tone is low, but Emmy’s attention swings back to me.
“I knew you were more than
just a pretty face and a hard body, Logan. It’s too bad you didn’t fall in line. I really would’ve liked to marry you. I wouldn’t have spent nearly so much money on that house if I hadn’t been making it perfect for us.”
“The hell you say,” Rusty interjects. “You said you were over him. That house was gonna be for you and me. You’re just a cheating bitch like the rest of them, aren’t you? I bet you liked fucking Timmons too.”
Rusty raises his gun at Emmy, but Emmy’s quicker on the trigger. The percussion from the shot is deafening at close range.
I grab Memphis’s arm and drag her to the ground before diving for my gun. But Emmy has already turned, and the barrel of her revolver presses against my forehead as my hand reaches metal.
“No one calls me a bitch,” Emmy says, her tone conversational. “Especially not Rusty Mills.”
“Oh really, because I have no fucking problem calling you a bitch.”
Something inside me dies when I hear Banner’s voice ring out from beyond the cabin, and the barrel lifts from my head as Emmy turns toward her.
No fucking way am I going to lose her now.
“You’re like a bad case of the clap, city girl. Just showing up when you least expect it and completely unwelcome,” Emmy says. “But thankfully, I know how to get rid of both.”
I close my hand around the grip of my gun and launch myself at Emmy from behind, yanking her feet out from under her. Her shot goes wild, and someone screams.
Fear that rivals what I felt when I drove up on my shop in flames tears through me faster than the shot. I pounce on top of Emmy, my 9mm inches from her face.
“Banner!”
“The bitch shot me!”
My Glock has no safety, and the only thing stopping me from pulling the trigger is the sound of Banner’s voice.
“Where? Memphis, get to her!”
As Memphis rushes toward Banner, I wrap a hand around Emmy’s wrist and flip her over, wishing I had a zip tie or a rope, anything to tie her up with. But I don’t, so I crush her wrists together with a near bone-breaking grip.
“You’re hurting me.”
“Banner! Answer me!”
“I’m okay. I think. Mostly.”
Banner’s voice comes closer and I look up. Memphis is walking with an arm around her, and blood drips from the upper edge of Banner’s arm.
“Grazed her.”
“Crazy bitch!” This comes from Julianne as she stumbles down the cabin stairs, the door slamming shut behind her. “You could’ve killed her! You killed him!”
“Everyone, put your fucking guns down. Hands up. Right now,” Cody yells from the path leading to the cabin.
I lower my pistol and raise the other hand. “Emmy tried to kill all of us. She killed Rusty. Maybe Timmons too.”
“What the fuck? Someone needs to explain what the hell happened. Now.”
Chapter 42
Banner
Cody puts a hand on Emmy’s head and shoves her into the back of his cruiser. The coroner pronounced Police Chief Timmons and Rusty dead on the scene—Timmons from blunt force trauma to the head, and Rusty from the gunshot wound to the chest. Cody called the county forensics unit to investigate because the whole scene was a clusterfuck.
Emmy started singing immediately, telling Cody she and Rusty showed up at Nicole’s cabin to find out what Nicole told the police, and then they lured Timmons by making Nicole tell him she’d sleep with him if he’d look for information elsewhere and leave her alone.
Nicole told Cody they tried to pay her to kill him, and she pretended to go along with the plan until Timmons showed up and she outed them on purpose. Rusty bashed Timmons in the head and tied him up, but he died from the injury before they could decide what to do with him.
Rusty beat the hell out of Nicole and shot Julianne in the shoulder. EMTs swept them off to the hospital in an ambulance, but I refused to go until Cody understood that Logan had done nothing wrong.
Memphis took notes through the whole thing, and called her cameraman immediately. As soon as they finished filming, she left in a hurry to edit the piece and get it back to her network.
Luckily, Emmy barely winged me, and the paramedics cleaned the wound and slapped a few butterfly bandages on it since I wouldn’t leave the scene. The bitch did ruin my shirt, though.
As soon as I heard that first gunshot, I called Cody from Logan’s phone. He told me to do the same thing Logan did—stay put.
But I’ve never been really good at following directions.
Apparently Emmy had overspent on building her little house, and started “borrowing” money from the restaurant until it was running in the red. Rusty had done a few odd jobs for her and found out about her money problems, and told her he knew a good way to make them go away.
Once she put the cash back, she couldn’t stop. I think the country saying is pigs get fat, hogs get slaughtered. In this case, Emmy and Rusty were both hogs.
If I hadn’t seen it happen and heard it myself, I wouldn’t believe it either.
Cody slams the door of the police cruiser and says something to Logan. After the men shake hands, Logan strides toward me, anger etched into his every feature.
“I told you to stay—”
“Wednesday. This Wednesday.”
He stops in front of me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You told me not to get out of the truck until I picked a date. I picked Wednesday,” I tell him.
Logan closes his eyes for a moment, and I’m pretty sure he’s praying for patience.
“Don’t you ever put yourself in that kind of danger again.”
I drop a hand onto my hip. “I could say the same thing to you. What the hell would I do without a real man to keep me in line? My vibrators might be amazeballs, but they’re no substitute for you.”
Logan yanks me into his arms and buries his face in my hair. My shoulder twinges where the bullet winged me, and I stiffen.
Logan drops his arms. “Fuck. I’m sorry, baby. You sure you don’t need the hospital?”
“I’m sure. Let’s go home.”
He wraps an arm around me and leads me toward the truck. “I will turn your ass red if you ever do anything like that again.”
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “You promise?”
Epilogue
Logan
One year later
Vibrators race across the bar, one pink and one blue.
Banner bounces as much as her belly will let her when the pink one wins. “I told you she’s a girl!”
Julianne shakes her head. “I demand a rematch. I swear, you’re carrying a boy.”
The other women chime in with their opinions, including Holly and Greer and Sofia, Banner’s friend from New York, with her weird little dog, Jordana.
Nicole went all out for Banner’s baby shower. Pints and Pins, which she bought from Ben with a loan from my wife, is decorated with pink-and-blue streamers. Of course they’re not playing normal baby-shower games because that would be way too boring for my wife.
And yes, even eleven months and twenty-five days later, I still love saying my wife.
The only person of note who’s missing is Banner’s mom. She apparently had some kind of important experiment running and couldn’t be bothered to attend her only daughter’s baby shower. Not that Banner’s parents came to the wedding either, which ended up happening on Friday and not Wednesday after the cabin shootout. We’ve invited them down for the baby’s birth, but I’m not holding my breath there.
Emmy is currently incarcerated in a women’s prison after taking a plea bargain and providing information to end most of the meth trade in Gold Haven. They expect she’ll serve about fifteen years before getting out.
My shop, which she admitted to burning down out of spite, was up and running faster than I would have thought possible, courtesy of Creighton Karas’s crews. Now business is booming, and even with triple the space, we still have a waiting list.
Ba
nner tried to pay for the rebuild, but I wouldn’t let her. That’s when she decided to make the loan to Nicole for Pints and Pins instead. Nicole, for the record, was not trying to buy drugs to sell to make meth. She had a cold and an expired license the night Banner and I saw her at the pharmacy.
Ben came forward as Memphis’s anonymous tipster. He said he’d seen too many things happen in this town over the years, and he was sick of waiting for Timmons to get off his ass and figure it out. Now, he’s officially retired and living in Florida.
Other people might have been changed by inheriting $30 million, but all Banner asked for was a woman cave to be built behind our house to hold her office. It ended up becoming a full-blown warehouse on the property to hold all the inventory she keeps in Gold Haven. She’s since hired two full-time employees for shipping and administrative stuff, and Blush is already making a profit. She also started the Myrna Frances Memorial Scholarship at five different community colleges to help women who want to take business classes, one scholarship for each year Mrs. Frances was in her life.
To say I’m proud of her would be an understatement. To celebrate the one-year anniversary of her company, I surprised her with a fully restored cherry-red SS convertible with blush-pink pinstripes.
“Rose, do not put that in your mouth.”
I turn to see Creighton Karas talking to his daughter behind me, which never ceases to amuse me. The man can run an empire, but his baby girl has him wrapped around her finger.
Holly has just started to show with their second. I can only hope to be so lucky.
“You about wrapped up, Bruce?”
All the women turn at my question as they prepare to start another vibrator race across the bar.
“Logan! Are you early?” Banner looks toward the clock on the wall.
“I’m an hour late, actually.”
She smiles and waddles toward me. If she knew I even thought the word waddle, she’d crucify me. Even though I’d explain it’s the most beautiful fucking waddle in the world.
“They’re placing bets. Holly put fifty on a girl. Greer put fifty on it being a boy.”