The Best Man to Trust - By Kerry Connor Page 0,42

lowered, it apparently look him a moment to spot them. As soon as he did, he pulled up short, peering at them in surprise. “Hello.”

“What were you doing in there?” Tom asked.

Greg held up his flask, giving it a shake. “Came down for a little refill. I was in the mood for some vodka.”

Of course. Tom slowly let out a breath. He sensed Meredith do the same.

“We were just coming up to tell you lunch is almost ready,” Meredith said.

“Great. Guess I’ll head right in then.” With a nod, he strolled past them on his way to the dining room, disappearing down the side hall.

Frowning, Meredith watched him go. “You know, for a group of people who know there’s a killer in the house, your friends don’t seem to have any reservations about wandering around on their own.”

Tom was tempted to argue that Greg couldn’t be counted on to make the smartest decisions when he’d been drinking, but it really wasn’t much of an argument. It didn’t matter that he was inebriated or that Alex was fearless. They were putting their lives in danger, and Tom couldn’t keep an eye on all of them. He was going to have to say something and hope they’d listen.

And pray their recklessness didn’t cost them their lives.

Chapter Eleven

“I think it’s finally starting to slow down,” Rick said. He stood just outside the open kitchen door, peering up at the night sky.

“It’s so dark, how can you tell?” Ellen asked.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and started brushing off the flakes that had fallen on him. “Can’t tell for certain, but that’s what it looks like to me. And if it is over, I can try to get out to the garage tomorrow and see about hooking up the plow.”

Standing on the other side of the kitchen island from Ellen, Meredith let out a slow sigh of relief. “That’s great, Rick.” Finally some good news.

Rick eased himself onto a seat at the kitchen table. “With any luck I’ll be able to start digging out the day after tomorrow, but it’ll take some time to reach the garage and the plow to begin with.”

“Still, it’s a start,” Meredith said.

“You sure anyone’s coming down for dinner?” Ellen asked. She finished tossing the salad she’d been working on for the past ten minutes, finally setting the bowl aside. “I’d hate to see all this food go to waste.”

Meredith set the last of the silverware that needed to be taken out to the dining room on a tray with the plates. “I reminded everyone what time dinner was at lunch. They all said they’d be here. Besides, I’m sure they must be getting a little stir-crazy by now.”

“That’s true,” Ellen said. She turned to check on the chicken breasts she was serving as the entrée. “I haven’t seen anyone in hours. Been awfully quiet today. Even more than usual in this place. Feels unnatural somehow.”

The cook was right. Meredith had felt it, too. Most of the wedding party had kept to their rooms the rest of the day. Meredith didn’t know if it was to catch up on their sleep or because they felt safer behind closed doors—or both. It didn’t really matter.

On one hand, the blessed calm had been a relief after last night. On the other, the stillness in the house felt ominous somehow. Almost as though it was too quiet. She hadn’t been able to relax. Instead, Meredith had felt the apprehension building in the pit of her stomach all day, as though her instincts were telling her something bad was about to happen, and every second that passed without it happening just made the waiting so much worse.

It was impossible to forget that there was still a killer in the house. Someone whose identity, whose motives, were still unknown.

Someone who wanted them to be afraid...

She heard the first signs of voices in the dining room. “There they are,” Meredith said, shaking off her gloomy thoughts. “I should get this stuff out there.”

Picking up the tray, she moved toward the kitchen door. As she pushed through it into the dining room, Meredith kept her fingers crossed that the meal would go smoothly.

They’d already begun gathering, she noted, automatically starting to count all the faces. Her eyes met Tom’s, but she didn’t let her gaze linger. Giving him a slight nod, she continued with the others. Scott. Rachel. Alex. Greg. And—

“Where’s Jess?”

It was Alex who asked the question, voicing exactly what Meredith had been