Chapter 30

Laurel jerked awake when Huck's phone vibrated, hopping across his nightstand. He shifted his bulk in the bed to grab it. "What?" he snapped into the phone. "Shit, really? All right, thanks." He clicked off.

"What?" Laurel asked sleepily, turning over to face him.

He fumbled on the bedside table for his remote control. "How do I get streaming on this TV again?"

She pushed her hair out of her face and scooted up, reaching for the remote before clicking through to the Internet. "Where am I going?"

" The Killing Hour ," he muttered, also sitting up and then reaching over to flick on his bedside table light.

She scrolled to the correct app. "Who called?"

"Monty is up late going through case files and had his computer on."

The stubborn man should be getting some rest. "Okay." Laurel flicked through until she found The Killing Hour .

"Good evening. I am bringing you a special report even though it's after the midnight hour," Rachel said, looking excited. She appeared more casually turned out than usual, dressed in jeans and a dark gray sweater with her hair pulled up in a ponytail. Even so, her makeup was flawless.

Huck sighed. "This isn't going to be good. I can just tell."

Rachel's voice lowered. "I couldn't wait until tomorrow to report on my most recent news. However, this podcast will of course be available throughout the day, so please like and share, and if you choose to rate our podcast, there are links below to do so. I want to keep giving you the most up-to-date news."

Laurel's eyelids felt heavy, but she tried to concentrate anyway, her back to the solid headboard.

"As you know, we've reported that Fish and Wildlife Captain Huck Rivers is a suspect in the recent murders in Genesis Valley, but we couldn't connect the dots as to why." Rachel's face settled into somber lines. "We have finally discovered the identity of the first victim in the River Reaper case."

Huck groaned and slapped a hand against his head. "The River Reaper. Wow, she outdid herself with that one."

Laurel swallowed.

Rachel's eyes gleamed. "This is going to be a difficult podcast for me, so please just stick with me. The name of the first victim is Delta Rivers. She was in her sixties and once resided in Genesis Valley. You might recognize her last name because, as it turns out, she was the estranged mother of our very own Fish and Wildlife Captain Huck Rivers."

Rachel shook her head. "Unfortunately, the victim deserted Captain Rivers when he was just a baby. We do have to wonder what kind of psychological damage that may have caused him."

"Ah, fuck," Huck muttered.

Laurel winced and pulled the covers up above her waist. The room was chilly, but she'd been toasty and warm cuddling with the captain.

Rachel shook her head sadly as a picture of Huck came up on the screen behind her. He was dressed in his full Fish and Wildlife uniform and looked tough and intense.

"I feel like we need to connect the dots here, but I am not accusing anybody of anything," Rachel said slowly.

A picture of Delta Rivers showed up on the screen, followed by photographs of Teri Bearing and Haylee Johnson. The picture of Huck's mother had been taken years ago, and the scene appeared to be a picnic in Genesis Valley.

"Where'd she get the photo?" Huck asked, leaning forward.

Laurel squinted. "It looks like it's out of a newspaper. We can go back through the archives. It appears as if your mother is just an attendee at the picnic." There was no doubt that Rachel Raprenzi did her research and had excellent sources.

"Now," Rachel said somberly, "there's an obvious connection between Delta Rivers and her son, and who would know better that she'd be back in town just in time to be murdered? She must have reached out to him somehow, but the police are being incredibly quiet about this. Are they protecting one of their own?"

Laurel reached over and turned on her light. This was going to be a rough night.

Rachel pointed to Teri Bearing's photograph, showing the woman smiling with a carnival behind her. "I have exclusive footage that we've already aired on The Killing Hour , that captures an altercation between the mayor's wife and Huck Rivers."

The screen behind her shifted to a video that showed the night Huck had arrested the intoxicated blonde. "As you can see," Rachel said, "Mrs. Bearing hit Captain Rivers. Is his ego such that he cannot take rejection by any woman? Please note that all three of the victims are blond . . . like his mother."

Huck drew in a breath but otherwise didn't move. Laurel cast him a glance, then looked back at the television.

"Finally," Rachel said, pointing to Haylee Johnson, "we all saw how Ms. Johnson attacked FBI Special Agent Laurel Snow. It was brutal, and you might ask me what that has to do with Captain Rivers. Snow and Rivers have been in an intimate relationship for months."

Laurel lowered her chin. "Since that's true, we can't sue her for slander. But I would like to know who she's using as her source."

Rachel stared directly at the camera. "Is that the impetus that pushed Captain Rivers over the edge? Allegedly, of course. We're just drawing comparisons between victims here. I am not accusing Captain Rivers of anything, though I have heard that he has been taken off the case by his superiors. One has to wonder, what do they know that we don't?"

Rachel shifted in her seat and pressed her hands onto her plexiglass table.

"In an effort to be fully transparent, I must let you know that Captain Rivers and I were once engaged many years ago when we lived in Portland. He had a very tough missing persons case there and lost a child. By drowning . The same cause of death as these current victims."

Her eyes widened. "I have to tell you, he changed afterward. He lost the light of humanity in his eyes. He broke our relationship off and moved up here to live alone in the woods with his dog." Her shoulders slumped, perfectly conveying concern, dejection, and bewilderment.

Even Laurel could read those expressions on the woman's face. "She's really full of crap, isn't she?"

"Aptly put," Huck muttered. "This is going to screw up the entire case."

Rachel shook her head sadly. "I have to wonder if it wouldn't have been better if everybody had just left Captain Rivers alone to live on the mountain with his dog. Would these women still be alive?"

The screen cut to a commercial.

Huck scraped both hands down his face. "This will go viral within hours. I'm sure an article is already being written for the online version. Do you think we'll see this in the Timber City Gazette in print later today?"

Laurel looked at the clock. "It's after midnight, and I bet they've already gone to print, so it's too late to hit the print deadline. My guess is that we'll see an expanded article Saturday morning."

"Great," Huck said. "How soon do you suppose I get charged with murder?"

Laurel pressed the mute button on the remote. "If we're lucky, not for a while."

"When was the last time we were fucking lucky?"

* * *

Abigail watched Jason Abbott slump from his seat and nearly fall forward into the fire. Standing, she stood and planted her gloved hand on his head, pushing him back into the darkness. "Oh, Jason. You always thought you were so smart."

She gingerly removed the vial from beneath the wristband on her right arm. She hadn't used the drug until his final glass of wine. "As if I would put something in a glass that you could switch with me." She tossed the vial into the fire and then poured more of the accelerant on it. The journals were gone, and now so was the plastic. She threw her glass in and then looked at the wine bottle. She'd have to take that home with her.

Humming softly, she walked back to her car and placed the wine bottle in her dark backpack before opening her trunk and lugging the portable generator over to the battered cream-colored truck Abbott had been using.

"See, Jason?" she asked quietly. "You just bought a generator." She shoved it across the truck bed. "Which explains why you have so much gasoline in the back of your truck."

She returned to the borrowed Cadillac and removed containers of gasoline, going back and forth until she had emptied the large trunk. She shut the tailgate of his truck. She let the fire burn because why not?

Keeping an eye on him, she walked past the fire and entered the dilapidated cabin to find the guns and the phones used by the two officers who'd been shot. She jogged out and placed them in his truck. A quick search of the cabin revealed nothing else of interest, so, from the Caddie she fetched the sniper rifle she'd used and placed the weapon on the floor of the passenger side.

Finally, she returned to Jason. He was slumped over, and she smoothed back his hair with her gloved hand. "It's really too bad. You are quite handsome."

His dark hair was thick, and his handsome face angled. Grunting, she grabbed him by the lapels and dragged him over to his truck. It took her several tries, but she managed to push him inside and shove him over to the passenger side.

The sedative she'd given him would work for hours.

Then she looked back and used a branch to brush away the marks of his dragging heels. More thunder rolled in the distance. There was a hell of a storm on its way; it would eradicate any remaining evidence. Yet, it behooved a girl to be careful. She looked out into the night at Snowblood Peak across the way. It was rather fitting.

Jumping into the truck, she pushed Jason over, then moved the seat closer to the steering wheel. "It's quite convenient of you to have found refuge here in the mountains," she said congenially, driving down the barely there dirt road and then taking a sharp left up toward Widow's Peak. The moonlight shone down as the clouds raced across the sky. It would be completely dark soon.

She didn't much care.

Reaching Widow's Peak, she parked as close to the edge as she could, making sure the truck was perched on flat land. A small ledge protruded below her, and then the cliff dropped off to the river below. Parking the truck, she nimbly jumped out.

She drew the small recorder from inside her jacket and scrolled through until she found what she needed. Jason had been quite cooperative this evening. She placed one of the officers' phones in her pocket and then turned on the one she believed had been owned by Officer Jill Jordan to key in a number she knew well.

Laurel answered immediately. "Agent Snow."

Abigail pressed the play button. "I can't do this anymore," Jason burst out through the recorder. "It's too much."

"Jason?" Laurel asked, her voice rising. "I can help you. Let me help you."

Abigail ended the call but left the phone turned on. She shoved it into her back pocket and patted his head. "It was fun, Jason. Sorry you have to go like this."

She pushed the seat all the way back, put the truck in Drive, and then shut the door. Taking a deep breath, she walked around to the back. It was good she'd found this flat area. Now all she had to do was give the truck a little nudge. She considered the options and then quickly put two of the gasoline cans in the truck with him—just in case.

Holding her breath, she returned to the rear of the truck and pushed with all her might. The vehicle hitched slightly. Damn it. If he'd stolen a newer truck, the torque converter would most likely propel the vehicle down easier. But not Jason. No. He'd secured this old clunker. She only needed a few inches, and then gravity would take over. Grunting, she set her feet and then pushed hard, using the strength in her legs.

"Jason, you're a pain in my ass." She put both gloved hands against the dented metal, grunted, and pushed. The truck finally moved.

The front of the vehicle tipped over, hitting the lower ledge and jumping before continuing to roll.

"There you go." She gave one more push.

The truck silently coasted off the cliff.

She ran to the edge and looked down into the darkness. A loud bang echoed up and then several glorious crashes beat against the wind. Ooh, it must've gone end over end over end. Finally, the truck hit the bottom and an explosion rippled up.

The fire rose high in the sky.

"Wow." Pretty impressive. Smiling, she turned and broke into a run, heading back to the cabin. It took her about fifteen minutes through the trees. She arrived as the rain began falling in earnest, noting that the drops were already extinguishing the campfire. Shrugging, she reached for the discarded can and quickly squirted more accelerant on the papers. Might as well make sure they burned. Oh, she didn't mind if anybody found his journals as long as they couldn't read them.

She tossed the phones from the downed officers against the rocks surrounding the fire.

Reclaiming her weapon, she surveyed the area and then returned to the borrowed car. Time was ticking, ticking, ticking. She slid inside, ignited the engine, and turned around just as a more punishing rain began to fall and the wind whipped up in a frenzy.

Mother nature was on her fucking side. For certain.

She took back roads and made it to Mr. O'Casey's farm, where she shut off the lights and quietly drove the car beneath his carport. The old guy went to bed at eight every night and rose with the sun. She'd filched a copy of his car keys a year ago, just in case, and once in a while, she borrowed his Cadillac.

He never noticed.

She put all of her possessions in the backpack and made sure the car was exactly as he'd left it before quietly shutting the door and then turning to run.

The distance from the carport to her backyard was only a mile and a half through forest land, so she could easily make it in time to snuggle down in her bed.

Around her, the storm still raged.