Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Something had changed with Christian that morning on the ridge. With them both. She didn’t want to let him go. At the thought, she paused. She’d probably been in love with him for months. Her chest heated.
If he thought he was getting away from her, he’d lost his mind.
She walked slowly at first, letting her body settle. Thank goodness she’d been able to get some of her own clothing. Her home had still smelled like chemicals, but they’d at least cleaned up. She hoped Jarod hadn’t been killed there, and Christian said he didn’t see any evidence that he had. She had grabbed fresh clothes and an overnight kit.
Now, as she made her way down the quiet hallway, she thought about Lorrie Warner.
The woman had been knocked down during the chaos at the tavern. Amka had barely gotten a look at her before Christian had pulled her away from the fire, but someone had said Lorrie had taken a mug to the head. One of Amka’s mugs that decorated the place had fallen from a shelf. That detail wouldn’t let go. Lorrie’s husband was dead, and Amka had no idea whether the woman had even had a chance to grieve properly.
May had mentioned that Lorrie had stayed overnight.
The least Amka could do was look in on her. She turned left at the end of the hall and stopped outside Room 3. The door was slightly ajar. The light inside was dim. She hesitated and then quietly walked in, not wanting to awaken the young widow if she’d found sleep.
What Amka saw didn’t fit.
Lorrie was sitting up in the hospital bed. Her blonde hair was down, loose across the pillow. The blanket was pulled to her waist. Her expression was soft, even peaceful. Steve was leaning over her. His hand cupped her face. He was kissing her.
Not on the cheek. Not her forehead.
Mouth to mouth. Close. Long. Intimate.
Amka didn’t move. What the heck? Was Steve taking advantage of the poor woman? She was about to intercede when Lorrie lifted her hand and touched his chest. There was nothing hesitant about it. No confusion, no distress. She looked at him the way a woman looks at a man she wants.
What was happening? This didn’t make any sense.
Steve leaned back and chuckled, his blond hair catching the light from the bathroom. “I can’t believe it worked. This was insane, and we did it. Fucking Eli. Damn, he was hard to kill.”
Amka gasped.
Steve turned at the sound, eyes catching hers. The smile dropped from his face in a blink. “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he said, too calm. He grabbed her by the arm and yanked hard, pulling her fully into the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. He shoved her onto the bed, where she fell, her mouth opening to scream.
“Stop,” he hissed, yanking a gun out of his jacket pocket to point at her. A matte-black pistol.
Amka pushed herself off the bed, her gaze shifting between them. “What did you do?” She looked at Lorrie, whose eyes had gone wide. “Lorrie?”
Lorrie plucked a loose string on the white blanket covering her. “Eli was mean. A total jerk. Steve and I have been in love for years, and he thought, well, we should be together.” Tears filled her eyes. “They’re business partners, and Steve is so much better at it than Eli is. He should run the construction company. We should do it together.”
Amka tried to make sense of the entire situation. “You’re an influencer.” She would not look at the gun. Instead, she tried to make eye contact with Steve. “You have tons of followers.”
He smirked. “Yeah, I’ve done that for fun for a while. When I saw the contest, I came up with the plan.”
The plan to brutally murder Lorrie’s husband? Amka slowly shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
Lorrie preened. “See? Steve is super smart. He went to all of those small towns and did the interviews and everything. He might even win the fifty grand. Can you believe it? He talked Eli into meeting him up here for a boys’ week.”
Steve snorted. “I figured this hick town in the middle of nowhere would be a good place to take care of the problem.” He shrugged. “I thought I had him that first night, nearly nailed him through the window of the tavern.”
Amka gaped. So he’d aimed inside the tavern and not at her on the street? “You were the sniper?”
“Yeah.” Steve’s chest filled. “I’m a pretty good shot.”
This made no sense. “So you weren’t shooting at me?”
“No. Why would I shoot at you?” Steve frowned.
Amka couldn’t breathe. He was a crappy shot, then. Didn’t come close to taking out the guys inside the tavern, even with the window open. “Why did you cut my brake line and plant those explosions?”