The Perfect Victim

"You think I planned this?" he asked, incredulous.

 

Crossing her arms in front of her, she leaned against the seat. "After the way you kissed me a few minutes ago, I wouldn't put it past you."

 

He was starting to get annoyed. Not because she was wrong—but because she was right. "I'll let you know if and when I want to sleep with you."

 

She shot him a killing look, then turned her attention to the windshield where the wipers waged a losing war against the snow.

 

Even in profile, he saw the worry leak into her features, like a dark stain marring the flawless surface of a fine piece of porcelain. Reaching out, he plucked the branch from her hair. "We'll try to get back. If we can't make it, we'll find something along the interstate. There's got to be something off of Interstate 70. Maybe a truck stop."

 

"My parents lived just south of here, near Alma."

 

Randall contemplated her, realizing why she'd waited until now to mention it. "Are you up to spending the night there?"

 

The wind whistled around the truck with such force it trembled. The trees on either side of the road were barely visible through what was quickly becoming blizzard conditions.

 

Casting a dubious glance beyond the window, she nodded. "I don't think we have a choice."

 

*

 

 

 

The home where Patty and Larry Fox had once lived was a custom-built log cabin nestled in a pine forest at the end of a winding gravel drive. Randall rammed the transmission into four-wheel-drive and started up the steep incline, cursing Mother Nature when the vehicle slid too close to a stand of trees before the tires grabbed.

 

He chided himself for not telling Addison the truth about what he'd found in that ravine. But they'd had a grueling climb to make, and he hadn't been sure how she would react, so he'd put it off. He'd planned on breaking the news to her once they reached the summit. Then she'd gone and tossed that snowball at him like some kind of a kid. She'd looked incredibly beautiful and ... undamaged, laughing and playing in the snow. Then, like the idiot he was, he'd gone off the deep end and kissed her.

 

"Shit," he muttered.

 

"What?”

 

 

 

He parked the truck in front of the garage and shut down the engine. Snow swirled crazily around them, pinging against the windshield.

 

Randall glanced over at Addison and felt a tinge of guilt. It had been wrong of him not to tell her; he couldn't put it off any longer. He wasn't going to enjoy hurting her, but she deserved to know the truth about what had happened to her parents regardless of how much it was going to hurt her, regardless of how much it was going to change this case.

 

She reached for the door handle, but he stopped her with a light touch on her arm. ''Hold it," he said.

 

She shot him a wary look. "Okay, Talbot, you've got my attention. Why are you looking at me that way?"

 

"Your parents' car didn't spin out on ice, Addison."

 

"But you said—"

 

"Someone forced them off the road."

 

Her mouth opened, but she didn't make a sound. He watched a myriad of emotions scroll across her features. Disbelief. Denial. Profound sadness. Then a flash of anger. "I asked you back there. Dammit, why didn't you—"

 

"I didn't want to tell you while we were down in that ravine."

 

"Why the hell not?"

 

"I didn't want to take a chance on you falling apart on me."

 

She choked out a laugh. "Yes, the helpless female. Christ, you would think that, wouldn't you?"

 

"That's not what I thought. But with bad weather moving in, I didn't want to spend any more time down there than we had to. I know this is an emotional issue for you. I figured you might want to ... talk about it."

 

"So you kissed me instead."

 

He ground his teeth. "I didn't plan for that to happen. It just ... did." Oh, that was just brilliant, he thought sourly. When she remained silent, he added. "I made a judgment call."

 

"God." Turning away from him, she stared out the window at the snow piling up on the windshield. "Are you telling me someone killed them?"

 

"I don't know for sure, but it looks that way."

 

"Oh, God." She sighed. "How do you know?"

 

Randall scrubbed a hand over his face, refusing to acknowledge that he felt like a bastard for having to be the one to tell her that. "Let's get inside and we'll talk."

 

She didn't respond, didn't look at him.

 

"Addison ?"

 

She cast him a cool look, her eyes contrasting darkly against her porcelain complexion.

 

"You got a key?" he prodded.

 

With a nod, she picked up her purse and began fumbling inside. Randall watched her, and he hated seeing her look so incredibly sad. On impulse, he reached out and touched her lightly on the arm. "We can try the interstate if you're not up to staying here."

 

"I'm up to it."

 

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