Page 1 of Dare to Fall
Chapter One
Gabby
“It’s not too late for me to hop a flight to Vegas so I can dump Chad’s body in the desert,” I say to my cousin Erin as we approach the baggage claim.
Bozeman, Montana is a far cry from Cancun. But I might be the only one not sad about missing out on a tropical resort. Beaches have never really been my style. I’m a mountain girlie through and through.
“Thank you, but no,” the ex-bride-to-be replies, her voice soft and void of emotion.
We’ve all been waiting for Erin to lose her shit since our cousin Bryan tipped her off about the infidelity earlier this morning, but so far, she’s just been a zombie. IfIfound out my fiancé was cheating on me with my wicked stepsister of the north, I’d become the next feature on a Dateline documentary.
“I won’t kill him,” I add, hoping to lighten the mood. “I’ll leave that to the vultures. Somewhere remote, where the mob doesn’t even dump bodies.”
“No one is dumping a body,” Alanna, the maid of honor—or is it ex-maid of honor now?—snaps, spinning to point a finger at me. As though I’m a student being scolded by the uptight teacher who hasn’t been laid in forever. I like Alanna, but that woman seriously needs some dick to help her loosen up.
“I’m sure I could negotiate the charge down to manslaughter,” I say.
“Manslaughter?” Alanna repeats, her raised voice turning more than a few heads.
“She wasn’t serious, were you Gabby?” Stormi, Erin’s sister and my cousin, says.
“I’m not serious,” I say, nodding my head.
Alanna takes a deep breath, as though to center herself. “I know none of this is ideal?—”
“We’re grateful you were able to switch reservations this last minute,” Devin, Erin’s book club bestie, says to Alanna. “And I, for one, am excited to see what this little town with a Hallmark-type name has to offer. Autumn in the mountains isn’t exactly a hardship.”
“Agreed,” I say, spotting my suitcase and yanking the heavy bag off the carousel with a grunt.
“You sure you didn’t stuff a body in there?” Stormi asks, an eyebrow raised.
“Not this trip,” I say, smiling.
Devin lets out a laugh she quickly turns into a cough when Alanna scowls.
“I’m an over packer,” I admit with a shrug.
“Since when?” Stormi challenges.
I grew up four houses down from my cousins. Though I’m closer to Erin in age, Stormi was my little tagalong. One who was always paying attention. Which is why her question is valid. But this is not the time to announce that after this trip, I’m headed to California to start a new life adventure as a raft guide.
“How far is this Caramel Creek anyway?” I ask, deflecting.
“Cinnamon Creek,” Devin corrects.
“That sounds made up.”
“It’s real,” Alanna says, her tone slightly exasperated.
I feel for her, I really do. She put a lot of time and effort into planning the perfect bachelorette weekend for Erin. Had the evil stepsister not been on her way to Cancun to join the bridal party, we’d probably be sitting on a beach right now, chugging margaritas. But we didn’t want Gwen—or anyone else for that matter—to find us.
“I can’t wait to see the lodge in person,” Devin adds. “If that picture your brother sent is even half as good as the real thing?—”
She stops mid-sentence, because the luggage carousel is dragging Erin away.
“Shit.”
I lunge into action, grabbing for the suitcase as Stormi unhooks Erin’s hand from the suitcase handle. I yank her bag off the carousel with such force that I fall right on my ass. The wheeled bag takes off toward the next carousel over. Devin, the nurse in the group, examines Erin’s hand as Alanna runs after the runaway suitcase.
