Page 66 of Traitor
I don’t answer because I’m already speeding away, the boat bouncing and creaking along behind me. Precious time ticks by, but I stop at the lodge on the way to Splatters to unhook the boat. I’ll be able to move faster if I don’t have to worry about navigating with its cumbersome weight behind me.
I get back in the truck and my phone rings as I start to pull away from the lodge. When I see Peyton’s name on the caller ID, I drop the damn thing twice before I can answer it.
“Peyton.”
“No, lover boy.”
My insides turn to ice. “Alice?”
“That’s right.”
I swipe a hand across my face as cold sweat drips down my forehead and into my eyes. “Where’s Peyton?” I demand. “If you hurt her, I swear to God.”
“Simmer down, Ford, or you won’t see her again.”
Drawing in air is a Herculean task, but I force myself to listen to her. It won’t do anyone any good for me to rage at Alice before she tells me what she’s done with Peyton. “Please,” I say through gritted teeth.
“We’re at Windy Point, Ford. And my-oh-my is there a wonderful view,” Alice answers.
“Please don’t hurt her.”
“I’m not. Yet.”
The truck speeds along the unpaved road and spits up dust in my rearview. “You psycho bitch.”
“I didn’t want it to happen this way, Ford. You have to believe me. If Lola had left my husband alone, none of this would have happened.”
“Peyton doesn’t need to be involved.” Traffic out of town inches forward at a snail’s pace. Images of Peyton bloody and beaten flash through my mind rapid fire. My knuckles go white on the steering wheel.
It’s Afghanistan all over again. I may not be shooting her full of a syringe of morphine, but I might as well. If anything happens to her, it’ll be my fault. Goddammit, I should have made her leave when I had the chance, then none of this would have ever happened.
“If she would have kept her nose out of things, she wouldn’t be. So here we are.”
Not if I have anything to say about it.
“The sheriff is already looking into your involvement, Alice. There is no way you’ll get out of this.” I know trying to reason with her is a waste of time, but I have to try. For Peyton.
“Who do you think they’ll believe? Me, an upstanding member of the community and the former mayor’s daughter, or the man the whole country already knows is a murderer?”
“She was your sister.”
The harsh bark of her laughter fills the speaker. “No real sister would sleep with my husband.” Her otherwise calm voice sharpens. “I did everything for her. Raised her. Gave her a home after she left that shit-for-brains boyfriend of hers. Convinced Dad to make her a beneficiary in his will. She dug her own grave when she took what was mine. Just like you and Ms. Rhodes here did when you wouldn’t leave well enough alone.”
I flinch. “I’m almost there.”
“You park your truck and come to the Point. It’s closed today for maintenance, so we won’t be interrupted. You come unarmed now, Ford. We wouldn’t want this to get ugly. No one wants that, do we?”
“No.”
“We’ll be waiting.”
Click.
The parking lot is almost empty when I pull in and claim a spot nearest to the trail for the Point. Much as it pains me, I leave my 9mm and backup in the glovebox, along with my pocketknife, and shove my phone into my jeans. Wind whistles through the trees and howls in the canyon beyond. If it were under any other circumstances, it’d be a good day for a hike, but dread clouds over the beauty.
My ears ring at the effort to listen over the breeze as I trek the roped off trail the short distance to the Point. The trail tops a small crest, then veers sharply right. To my front, the steep slope of the mountain affords gorgeous views. To my left and right the trail extends in either direction with a waist-high safety barrier marking the way.
Without a view of the Point and the loud roaring of wind in my ears, I’m at a distinct disadvantage and only have one option.
I don’t think twice about rounding the corner for whatever my fate may be.
o
