She’d always imagined a gun would make a louder sound, especially on a sticky summer night with only the crickets as competition. But it was more of a pop—like a kids’ toy rather than a lethal weapon—as Billy aimed it at the cashier and pulled the trigger.
Wait in the car, he’d said. I’m gonna get Old Man Mack to sell me some beer.
So she’d sat in the passenger seat, eyes glued on the store’s plate glass front window, figuring the worst he was going to do was pull his charming I-forgot-my-ID act.
Her hand went to her mouth as Mack grabbed his own chest, spun, and then fell behind the counter. She felt blindly for the car door handle as she watched Billy scoop bills from the cash drawer, but she couldn’t get out fast enough. She heard a strangled sound that must have come from her as he came flying out of the store carrying a case of Bud and the money.
He wrenched open the driver’s door and tossed the case toward her, then gunned the engine before he had his door fully closed. Gravel spit out behind them as he swung onto the pavement and shot the car toward downtown, and she couldn’t seem to take a whole breath as she watched the rearview mirror.
“That was Mack.” Her voice came out in a whisper. “You just shot…Mack.”
“You know him?” Billy looked over at her, then grabbed her knee. Hard. “Mack shoulda let me have the beer, princess.”
He squeezed harder, making her wince. “You didn’t see nothing, you got that?”
“God, Billy. We need to call the police. He needs an ambulance.” She didn’t dare crane her neck to look out the back window, but couldn’t get the sight of Mack crumpling behind the counter out of her head.
Billy let out a short, maniacal laugh that made her cringe. “People need to learn who’s in charge around here, princess. Sometimes you gotta teach hard lessons, you know?”
Oh, she knew, all right. Mack wasn’t the only one Billy was trying to teach lately. She felt for the door handle again, but the speedometer was holding steady at forty. Leave it to Billy to shoot a guy cold, then obey the speed limit all the way back to his apartment. She dug her fingernails into her palm, desperate to be out of this car—desperate to be as far away from Billy as possible.
She’d had her breakup speech memorized for three weeks now, but still hadn’t had the courage to deliver it. And now? She shivered, scared to her very core. If Billy’d shoot Mack over a case of beer, what would he do to her if she tried to cut him loose?
“We can’t just leave him there, Billy. What if he—dies?” Her voice cracked as she pictured Mack handing her a piece of bubble gum every Saturday when Grampy used to bring her in for a root beer and a scratch ticket.
“Who we gonna call, princess? The po-lice?” He drew out the word like it amused him. Billy looked over at her again, and she shrank toward the door. “We need to have a little talk about this?”
“No.” Their last little talk had left her with a bag of frozen peas on her ribs and a headache that didn’t go away for a week. She took a catchy breath. “No little talk.”
“Good.” He nodded, pointing toward the case on her lap. “Crack me one of those brews, wouldja? I think I earned it.”
Chapter 1
“Oh, lordy. I forgot my shoes!” Jess handed her carry-on bag to her landlady and scrambled back through the door of her yoga studio. Forgetting a jacket was one thing, but showing up for bridesmaid duty at Montana’s Whisper Creek Ranch in flip-flops would send her friend Hayley into serious bridezilla mode.
She flew back down the stairs, but as she reached for the door, the studio phone rang. She debated letting it go to voice mail, but since Hayley had called six times already this morning to add items to her packing list, she figured she’d better answer. She put the phone to her ear, but before she could say hello, a voice rasped over the line, and Jess’s eyes widened in fright.
“Knock-knock,” growled a cigarette-fried throat that could belong to only one person. Jess’s hand shook as her knees buckled. Then there was a cackle. “What’s the matter? You forget how to play this game? You’re supposed to say who’s there?”