Lacey stumbled up the trail in front of Mathews, glancing back at the beefy cop now and then. He had Patty’s wedding dress over one arm, and his weapon trained on Lacey’s back. He stayed within a yard of her, destroying any chance she had of getting a running start. She’d weighed the options in her head. She could spring off the trail and into the pitch dark, through the trees and rocks and shrubs, and hope she didn’t trip and fall to her death. And hope he didn’t simply shoot her in the back.
That was her only option, and she didn’t care for the odds.
The moonlight illuminated the packed-dirt path. She’d seen the end of the path from the balcony in her suite. Right in front of the gazebo, it widened into a flat paved area for wedding guests. The pictures she’d seen online showed a happy bride and groom in the gazebo at the edge of the cliff while their guests sat in neat rows of white chairs in a semicircle facing the ocean. On a sunny day there was no spot more beautiful in Oregon.
What did Mathews have planned?
“Why are you hauling that dress all the way up here?” she asked. Wedding dresses weren’t light. Not that it mattered to a guy of Mathews’s bulk.
“The final nail in the coffin,” he replied, out of breath.
Apparently he spent his time building muscle, not endurance. Unlike her. Could she outrun him? She glanced to the side. Not in the dark.
“You put Patty in her old dress. Why?” Lacey didn’t care anymore if he yelled at her. She was running out of time.
“I didn’t mean to hurt Patty, but after she was gone, I realized I had an opportunity,” he puffed. “An opportunity to correct another wrong.”
He wouldn’t refer to what he did as murder. “She was gone?” Who made her gone? “She didn’t care for what you’d done to Will? She didn’t fall into line with your surprise plan?”
“She couldn’t see that I’d done it for us. That I’d done it to clean up her life. So we could have a fresh start. She panicked. She wanted to call Terry. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Lacey briefly closed her eyes. Had Patty really felt something for Mathews? Had she returned his affection, or had it only been in his head? What had Patty thought when Mathews told her Will was dead?
“Did you take the missing beer cans from the cabin? Were you up there with Will?”
“I suggested we go up for beers and steak. Will wouldn’t pass up free beer. He’d already been hitting the rum when I got there. By the time he slammed three beers, he was on the couch.”
“You called Patty from his phone?”
“Sometimes she didn’t answer my calls, but I figured she’d answer his. And she did, but she got pissed when she realized it was me.
“I wanted her death to count for something. So I dug out her dress and took her to the hotel. They’ve been making such a big deal of this hotel being the wedding destination. It was time to make them eat their words. They destroyed a lot of people in this town.”
He was taking revenge on the new hotel? “Who did the hotel hurt that you cared for?” she asked. “You said you were correcting another wrong. What did you mean?”
They had reached the level concrete area by the gazebo. Looking down, Lacey realized it wasn’t just a huge slab of concrete. It held a large intricate star of shell and rock and wood. Something created by a master craftsman. It was beautiful. Mathews breathed heavily behind her. She looked up at the gazebo, a simple but elegant wood frame that covered a small deck. The cliffs dropped off dramatically, a sturdy wood side fence protecting sightseers from plunging to the waves crashing against the rocks fifty feet below.
Fear washed through her as she stared out at the thundering ocean. Mathews was trying to make a statement. And she suspected it involved her in a bridal gown going over the railing.
Jack. She couldn’t breathe.
“Strip.”
“What?” she turned her back to the ocean and stared at the big man.
He tossed the dress at her feet. “Strip, and put it on.”
“It’s not my size.”
“You think I care?” He glared at her and took a half step closer, the gun a yard away from her nose. “Put. It. On.”
She held his stare for a full two seconds and then unzipped her sweatshirt. She tossed it at his feet just as he’d tossed the dress at hers. She kicked off her sneakers and shimmied out of her yoga pants, staring defiantly at him the whole time. She’d performed in gymnastic leotards in front of thousands all through college. She didn’t give a shit about one man seeing her in a camisole and panties.
He watched with no expression, his gun steady.
“Who did the hotel hurt that you cared for?” she asked again. She picked up the wedding dress and waited.
His gaze locked on her breasts.
Creep.
“My mother. She worked there for twenty years as a housekeeper. That bald manager, Lott, fired her after two weeks. He wouldn’t even give her a reference. She couldn’t find another job. She rarely leaves the house now.”
Depression.
She held his gaze, injecting every ounce of sympathy she could into her eyes. “You need—”
“Put on the dress!” he screamed at her, tendons popping in his neck. “Now!”
Heart pounding, she bent over and shook out the dress, trying to find a way to step into the mass of tulle without falling over. She struggled, her arms shaking. For a woman who could still do full twisting backflips on the beam, she could barely keep her balance to find the ground through the dress. Somehow she got both feet through and pulled the dress up. It was strapless. Reaching to her back, she realized it didn’t have a zipper. It had dozens of tiny buttons that she could never fasten with her icy fingers. She clutched the dress to her chest. “I can’t fasten it.”
“Figure it out.”
She tried again, succeeding in buttoning the top button and tucking part of it into her camisole. The dress was at least three sizes too big. As soon as she moved, it’d fall. She looked up at Mathews.
He stared at her from behind his gun. A slightly wistful look crossed his face and then vanished, replaced with grim determination. He gestured toward the gazebo. “In there. At the back.”
Lacey looked over her shoulder at the structure. The back of the gazebo had a thick clear plastic fence to show off the view. It was at least five feet high, to avoid lawsuits. If his plan was for her to go over, it was going to take some effort. This wasn’t a place for accidental falls. Someone would have to exert themselves to get over that railing. Especially in the huge dress.
“No one is going to believe I jumped,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter. Two bride deaths will be enough to put this place out of business. Who will want to get married where other brides have died?”
“I’m not a bride,” she argued.
“You’re in a white dress. Close enough. Move!”
She took a few steps backward, holding up the dress, not taking her gaze from Mathews. He could probably pick her up and throw her over. If he did, he’d have to put down the gun.
That would be her opportunity.
If he thought she would willingly climb up that fence, he was crazy.
Right. He was crazy.
She continued walking backward as he advanced on her. Thoughts of kicking him in the crotch or shins flashed through her mind, but the man had a gun trained on her face. And his finger was on the trigger. He had every intention of shooting. He probably figured it didn’t matter if the bride found at the bottom of the cliff had a hole in her head.
The flies on Will’s face flashed in her mind.
Is that my fate?
She backed into the fence and froze. Mathews smiled, his face barely lit by the moon shining on the ocean behind her. Her fingertips touched the hard clear plastic of the wall. It felt strong and secure.
“Climb over.”
“I can’t.” She didn’t move. She was going to make him put down that gun. Or else shoot her.
His eyebrows narrowed, his finger straightening and flexing on the trigger. “Turn around and start climbing.”
“No. You’ll have to throw me over. Did you think I’d just hop over because you told me to?”
Don’t shoot.
In the dim light, she saw him make his decision. She closed her eyes. I’ll always love you, Jack.
“Mathews!”
Lacey’s lids flew open and she exhaled. Terry.
“Put the gun down, Mathews!”
Mathews mashed his lips together, indecision on his face. He didn’t look toward the voice. His finger quivered on the trigger.
“It’s over, Boyd,” Lacey said. “Don’t add murder to your crimes. So far all you’ve done is threaten me.” She didn’t mention his other two murders. She saw Terry’s armed silhouette to her far left. Her peripheral vision searched for Jack; she knew he was near.
“Back away from her and lay the gun down,” Terry ordered.
Mathews stared at Lacey, a twitch starting on his right eyelid.
“You don’t want to hurt me. It’s not going to help your mother,” she whispered.
He took two steps back, his gun arm shaking now. Lacey took a deep breath.
“Is he armed?” Mathews asked her. He hadn’t looked in Terry’s direction.
“Yes,” she said. “You need to—”
Mathews whirled in Terry’s direction, emptying his magazine. Lacey fell to her knees, covered her head with her hands and flattened herself on the decking. Terry instantly fired back.
A shadow rushed out from her right and tackled Mathews to the ground, pinning him on his stomach and landing on his back. The gun spun into the plastic fencing. Jack grabbed Mathews’s head, slamming it into the ground, and Lacey heard the sickening crack of a breaking nose. Jack smashed his head again.
“Jack,” Lacey shouted. “Stop!”
Mathews’s head hit the wood deck a third time. The man’s arms sprawled motionless beside him. Lacey lunged on her knees to stop Jack before he did it again. “Jack, he’s not moving,” she shouted as she grabbed his arm, barely noticing that he wore a bulletproof vest. Jack paused, gasping for air, and studied the silent man.
“Good,” he breathed.
Jack turned and grabbed both her shoulders, scanning her for injury before wrapping her in a death grip. “Are you okay?” His pupils were huge, far larger than they needed to be for the dim light, and his chest heaved.
“I’m okay, I’m all right.” The emotional wall cracked, and she started to cry. Deep gulping sobs of terror, which she’d held back while Mathews’s gun dug into her ear. The dress pooled around her waist, and she pushed at it, wanting it off. She couldn’t stand to have it touching her skin. She wrestled with the fabric, panic shooting through her limbs.
“Lacey, hold still!” Jack hung on tighter to her shoulders.
“I need it off. Get it off!” The dress tangled around her legs, keeping her from struggling to her feet.
“I’ll help you—just hold still!” He shifted his bulk off Mathews’s still body. Lacey leaned back on her elbows and frantically kicked as Jack grabbed the tulle and pulled the dress over her legs. Her legs finally clear, she collapsed onto her back, panting. She looked at the ceiling, feeling the hot tears stream into her hair.
“Where’s Terry?” Jack asked.
“Right here.” Terry moved into Lacey’s line of vision.
She scrambled to her feet, her head suddenly clear at the sight of blood running down Terry’s shoulder and onto his stomach. He clasped the useless arm to his chest. “The little bastard nicked me a good one.”
Lacey ordered him to sit and used part of Patty’s dress to apply pressure. Blood instantly seeped through the tulle. He was more than nicked.
“How’s Mathews?” Terry asked.
Jack put his fingers below Mathews’s jaw and paused. “Got a heartbeat.”
“Good.” Terry looked at Lacey. “You hurt?”
She shook her head and wadded up the dress for more pressure, pushing harder against Terry’s shoulder.
“Thank God. Scared me.” Terry leaned his head against the clear plastic wall and closed his eyes. “Someone should probably call 911.”
Jack pulled out his cell phone.