Darkness presses against the windows, trapping us inside. There’s no moon and only the continuous fall of snow—and the hoot of an owl to break the monotony. Heat from the many woodfires, warms my exposed flesh as I move around, enjoying the scents and flavors of the conference. The smell of books is everywhere, and tables stacked high with the latest volumes adorn the hallways manned by sellers. Authors’ images are displayed like in a hall of fame, each with their current bestseller and the times of their readings and book signings. The atmosphere is electric, exciting. People here are like me on the outside—they may write, edit, publish, or read the fine art of murder—but I live it.
I walk through the hall, deciding which author I should grace with my presence. You see, not all are bestselling authors and lucky enough to attract a line of people waiting for an autograph. There are others who arrived with suitcases filled with copies of their books hoping to sell one, or maybe two, and are desperate for me to stop by their table. I’ve been watching them and a few have appealed to me, but some, I must admit, make no effort to attract readers. I know being an author can make one impoverished. The long wait between book advances, or no sales, can grind a person down, but my urge to kill rises at the sight of one woman, hiding behind a pile of books, stuffing her face with cream donuts. The cream hangs on her chin in a grotesque dripple. She gives all of us trying to succeed a bad name. I wish I could slip her out the back door and strangle her, but I must concentrate on being the social butterfly. I want to be noticed for the time when the sheriff mentions my name to witnesses and asks, “Did you see this person?”
An alibi is a nonnegotiable asset for someone like me, so I move through the crowd, nodding here, smiling there until I see someone I recognize. Ah yes, Julie. The sweet-as-honey blonde creature is used to getting what she wants. I slid by when she spoke to the medical examiner to eavesdrop. From the demands she made and the exasperated expression on the poor man’s face, he must be her father. His refusal to allow her to stay had been valid, considering I’m here as a constant unknown threat, but as soon as she batted those long eyelashes, he melted like snowflakes on a log fire. She hasn’t meant more to me than an excuse for an alibi but something about her has changed since the last time I saw her. My attention fixes on the way she’s touching her hair. As she curls a lock around a red-tipped finger the image of my mother’s face catapults across my vision. I am back in time, a vulnerable child, with no one to hear me. I hated my mother’s bleached-blonde hair and long red fingernails. She took my dignity and spent it like a commodity, only thinking of herself, her next drink, or new pair of shoes. Countless men came to our house. So many insisted I call them Daddy or Uncle. I’ll never forget the sea of faces, or the first one I killed. The warm blood on my flesh, the smell as they breathed their last, and the horrified expression on their face was a relief. At last, I’d gained my voice.
The room comes back into focus, chatter fills my ears, and the warm smell of bodies and woodsmoke bring me back to my senses. It’s just as well. I have things to do, but my attention keeps slipping back to Julie. She’s become an insatiable magnet and my fingers tingle at the thought of closing them around her slender neck. It would be so satisfying to look into her big gray eyes and see my face reflected in her confusion as I squeeze the life from her. I smile to myself. You see, once I’m done with my list, I’ll have time to play. A literary conference is supposed to be fun, right?
Eighteen
After returning with their bags, Jenna took a hot shower and changed out of her damp clothes. She added them to Kane’s pile and arranged to have them picked up by the hotel laundry service. She headed back into the cozy sitting room that joined the two bedrooms together and waited for Kane to finish feeding Duke. He’d walked him, rubbed him down, and settled him in front of the fire on his blanket before heading for the shower. She loved seeing this gentle side of Kane. He cared for their animals so well, making doubly sure each one of them was always loved and happy. Even Pumpkin, who really wasn’t a social cat, would curl around his neck when they watched TV. A pang of regret grabbed her. He’d make a great father, but would he risk marrying again?
“Everything okay?” Kane had caught her staring at him. “You have that faraway look again. Have you any conclusions on the case?”
Jenna’s cheeks heated. “I’d like to hear what everyone discovered today before I make any conclusions.” Deciding to be honest with him, she sighed. “Then there’s the autopsies, but I wasn’t thinking about the case. I love seeing this side of you. You know, the way you care for the animals. I was thinking you’d make a great dad is all.”
“The thought has crossed my mind, Jenna.” Kane straightened and walked to her. “In fact, I think about the future a lot these days.”
The phone rang and Jenna let out an exasperated sigh and went to pick up the receiver. “Sheriff Alton.”
“It’s Emily. Do you want me and Zac to hang around so you can bring us up to speed?” Emily sucked in a breath. “The reason being, we booked a table for dinner at seven for all of us and it’s six now.”
Jenna pushed the hair from her face and thought for a beat. “Are you dressed for dinner? We are, or do you need time to go change? And where is Julie? We’re supposed to be keeping an eye on the pair of you.”
“Oh really?” Emily sounded annoyed. “Dad still thinks we’re kids. He trusts me in the lab but not in a ski lodge. It doesn’t make any sense.”
Blowing out a breath, Jenna rolled her eyes at Kane. “It’s not that your dad doesn’t trust you, Em. It’s because we have someone on the premises killing people. Shane doesn’t want to get a call to find out one of you has been murdered. I can see his point. I’m armed
and you’re not. It wouldn’t be the first time one of you has been targeted. He’s just being cautious.”
“Okay, sure. I see your point, but as neither of us is involved in the publishing business, like both of the victims, I hardly think we have to worry.” Emily sighed. “So, do you want us to wait for you in the suite or meet you in the lobby and go to dinner together?”
“We’re on our way to the suite. See you in five.” Jenna replaced the receiver. “We’ll need to go and speak to the team. They’ve booked a table for dinner at seven.” She pushed the room keycard in her pocket and headed for the door.
In the suite, Jenna pulled up the files. She and Kane gave them details of their suspects’ interviews and then listened to Rio’s account of the interviews from Bexley Grayson and September March. “So, conclusions?”
“Grayson is an unknown quantity. He’s a façade. He’s trying to fit in with a younger crowd—fake tan, so much Botox—he has no expression, too white teeth. He reminds me of a fast-talking car salesman depicted in the movies. He named people who saw him around during the murders, Julie being one of them. I think he’s a creep.” Rio opened his hands. “September March is a nut job. Away with the pixies and, yeah, she’d slit your throat without a second thought.”
Concerned, Jenna highlighted both suspects on her list. “What about your suspect, Em?”
“Parker Rain, seems pretty levelheaded. I asked her if she knows Dakota Storm or Longfellow. She said that she and Dakota were both trying to sign an author, Joel Stanley, who’d written two books, Frozen in Time and Body in a Frozen Lake. Dakota apparently had an editor all steamed up about the story and could literally offer the guy a deal from the get-go. As Parker was offered the manuscript first, she feels cheated that Dakota signed the author, especially as the first one has sold over a million copies and the second even more.” Emily raised both eyebrows. “So as Dakota was found in a frozen pond, it seems like a very strange coincidence. I figure we need to keep Parker Rain on the list too.”
“Wolfe’s interview with August Bradford didn’t get us anywhere either.” Kane stared at Wolfe’s notes. “Bradford was dropped by Dakota at the end of last year. He’s here trying to get a new agent. His comment to Wolfe was that he hopes Dakota rots in hell.”
Pushing both hands through her hair, Jenna stared down at the list. “Six suspects. I’ll contact Bobby Kalo and ask him to dig deep. I want to know what these people have been doing, whatever state they live in, and he’s the best person for the job.” She composed an email and sent it away with all the details she had on each suspect and then turned off her iPad. “Until Wolfe confirms the victims’ IDs and conducts the autopsies, we’re in limbo. As soon as we’ve contacted the next of kin, Rio can write up a media report that says virtually nothing. I don’t want to panic people but I’ll need to keep them as safe as possible.”
“When you’re moving around the resort, listen and keep your eyes open.” Kane looked at Emily and Rio. “One of the suspects will slip up, boast or do something. We’ll need to be ready for them. I just hope whoever did this is stopping at two, but if this is a vendetta, they might strike again at any time and we need to be ready.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to Julie.” Emily’s blonde eyebrows met in a frown. “She’ll be in the midst of them, now that she’s staying and she’s gotten tickets to everything. The passes the convention organizers gave Dad to allow us to move around during the investigation also get us into everywhere free of charge.” She looked at Jenna. “They didn’t want us parading around wearing our coroner’s jackets.”
“I see.” Jenna stood. “They want us to keep a low profile, no doubt.” She glanced at her watch. “Let’s head down to eat now. Is Julie meeting us there?”
“Yeah.” Emily walked beside her to the elevator. “It feels weird being trapped inside a hotel with a killer on the loose.” She looked over her shoulder at Kane. “I’m sure glad our room is next to yours, Dave.” She shuddered. “If someone creeps into my room, you’ll come running, right?”
“Sure.” Kane smiled at her.
Concern suddenly dropped over Jenna for the girls’ welfare. She held the elevator door as they all stepped inside, but she gave Emily an encouraging smile. “We both will. Don’t worry.”
Nineteen