Aria squinted at the panthers’ cages. There were several huge locks on the doors. “How are we supposed to do that?”
“I think I’ve figured it out. Between seven and eight A.M., their handler unlocks the cages so that they can get some exercise—which is just them getting led around on short leashes. Tomorrow morning, I could distract the handler and you could sneak in there, open the doors, and set the panthers free.”
“I have to set them free?” One of the cats yawned, and Aria pointed to its enormous canine teeth. “And risk them tearing me limb from limb?”
“Then I’ll unlock their cages. You distract the handler.” Hallbjorn looked exasperated. “The point is that we’ll be letting them out. Freeing them from their oppressors.”
“So they can wander around Atlantic City?” Aria took a small step away from him. “Hallbjorn, this isn’t exactly their natural habitat. Where are they going to live? Under the boardwalk? What are they going to do if it snows? What will they do for food?”
“It’s better than the situation they have here.” Hallbjorn swept his arm toward the cages. The panthers both let out mighty roars as if in response.
“But a loose panther could hurt someone!” Aria cried. “Think about those old people at the chapel just now. Do you seriously think they could outrun a panther?”
Hallbjorn put his hands on his hips. “I’m sure they’re very gentle. And they won’t try to hurt anyone—they just want to be free. They’ll probably head straight for the marshland out of town.”
Aria stared at him, waiting for the moment Hallbjorn would start snickering and say that he was just kidding—he was just going to call the ASPCA and have them take care of the situation. But the laugh didn’t come. He stared at her fixedly, his face utterly serious.
“I want to share everything with you now that we’re married,” Hallbjorn said. “And I also want our marriage to be about something bigger than just us. We should conquer the world together.”
Aria took another step out of the garage, her heel landing in a pile of slush. “But not like this. We could really get in trouble. I thought you came here to escape trouble.”
Hallbjorn’s face fell. “Well, I thought you’d be into the idea. I thought you cared.”
“I do care. I love how committed you are to causes like this, and I want to share in your passion. But not by breaking the law.”
Aria glanced over her shoulder. They could get in trouble just by being here. Biedermeister and Bitschi could sue them for trespassing. And this place was so grim. All of the snowdrifts had turned black from truck exhaust. The smell of cat poop was making her eyes water. She looked down at the snake ring on her finger. Suddenly, the jocularity of their wedding ceremony seemed long ago and far away.
“Maybe we should think about this a little bit more,” Aria said, winding her arm around Hallbjorn’s waist. “If you really want to help the panthers, we should call some sort of authority—someone who can take them to a safe place. Besides, this is our wedding night. Wouldn’t you rather be doing wedding-night things instead of planning how to set panthers free?”
Hallbjorn’s mouth twisted. Aria could tell he was cracking.
She traced a pattern on his back. “Just think. Tomorrow morning we could wake up together as man and wife, watch the sunrise, have breakfast in bed . . .”
She walked her fingers up his back and pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. Hallbjorn glanced again at the panthers in their cages. Aria tilted his gaze away and lightly kissed his neck. “Please?”
Finally, Hallbjorn sighed. “How can I say no to you?”
“You can’t. I’m your wife. You have to do everything I say.”
Chuckling, Hallbjorn shut the garage door and mounted the tandem bike once more. Aria climbed on the back, and they rode to the hotel’s main entrance. As they rounded the corner, Aria heard another tormented roar. Hallbjorn’s back muscles tensed. But he kept pedaling, and eventually, the sad, lonely growl faded away.
Chapter 12
Mass Panic
Aria opened her eyes. She was standing on a lawn outside a courthouse. A whole town spread out before her over the hillside. It was Rosewood. From her vantage point, she could see Rosewood Day and the Hollis spire. She could even see the top of the Hastings house with its antique rooster weather vane.
But how did she get here? Did it have something to do with her marriage to Hallbjorn? Was she in trouble for forging Ella’s signature? She peered again at the ground and wrinkled her nose. The snow was gone. In fact, the grass looked kind of . . . green. How could a foot and a half have melted so quickly?
The doors to the courthouse flung open, and a flurry of people and reporters with cameras and microphones burst onto the steps. “Mr. Thomas, Mr. Thomas!” Ian Thomas rushed down the stairs with his lawyer and ducked into a waiting car at the curb.
Aria’s head began to pound. She’d witnessed this scene before. This was Ian’s arraignment. Last month.