One of Us Is Dead(81)

My phone buzzed.

I pulled it out of my purse. It was a text from Bryce.

Meet me in ten minutes in the guesthouse. Back door is unlocked.

I smiled and stowed my phone. Perfect. Everything was going according to plan. Karen gave me a peculiar look when she noticed I was smiling.

“What are you so happy about?” she snipped.

“I get to be me. Why wouldn’t I be happy?”





73

Shannon “He’s at the bar. You’re good to go,” Crystal said as she watched her husband chat with Dean and Mark. She handed me a key.


“Text me if he’s coming.”

She nodded. I walked into the kitchen and then stumbled into the foyer, acting as though I was tipsy. If anyone asked where I was going or what I was doing, I would pretend to be inebriated—not far-fetched, considering my recent history of overindulging at social events. But tonight I was sober. I crawled under the crime scene tape and made my way up the stairs undetected. Everyone was mostly outside, except for a few servers and workers. But the help never asked questions. I stood in front of Bryce’s office door, key in hand. Crystal had taken it earlier, made a copy, and returned the original before Bryce noticed it was missing. This was it. We were going to take that monster down. I slid the key in the lock and turned it. It opened with ease. I tiptoed into the office and locked the door behind me.

I texted Crystal.

I’m in.

Powering up the computer, I took a seat at the large oak desk. A password screen popped up.

Password?

Good. He’s still at the bar. Bryce2024.

The text popped up on my phone. I rolled my eyes. This moron actually thinks he’s running for president in 2024. I quickly typed it in, and the computer booted up. I browsed the desktop, searching for the folder Crystal mentioned. It wasn’t there. I went to the search bar and typed in Insurance Policy. No results.

Shit. It’s not here. The folder isn’t here.

I started clicking anything and everything. Each folder that opened wasn’t what we were looking for. He must have deleted it. Must have gotten scared when Olivia went to him. We knew they had made some sort of deal.

The text lit up my screen.

He’s coming. Get out of there now.

Shit. I quickly closed out of everything and turned off the computer. I heard footsteps outside the office door. I glanced around the room frantically. There was no closet to hide in. I crouched down, crawled underneath the desk, and pulled the chair in as far as it would go. The key slid into the lock. The door opened. The lights flicked on. A phone rang.

“Bryce Madison,” he said.

There was silence as he walked farther into his office.

“I’m taking care of it now.”

He opened a desk drawer. I was barely out of sight. I held my breath. I had never been afraid of Bryce before, but knowing what he had done—what he was doing—I was terrified. People without morals were meant to be feared.

“It ends tonight,” he said. He hit a button on his phone and slid it back into the pocket of his pants. He closed the desk drawer, and I heard a click, followed by a click, click, click.

He has a gun.

I quickly texted Crystal without even looking at my phone.

I heard him rustle around a bit more. The sound of a zipper on a bag, things being tossed around, and the gun—the bullets sliding into the clip, the clip into the chamber, and the hammer being pulled back. He was going to use that gun tonight.





74

Crystal Shit. Are you okay?


I fired off the message. I didn’t know what to do. I walked to the foyer, ready to charge up those stairs and do whatever I needed to. The crime scene tape was ripped down. Bryce had clearly been in a hurry. I kept staring at the phone, waiting for Shannon to text me back, to tell me everything was fine. Just as I was about to bolt up the stairs, Bryce came jogging down them.

“Party’s down here,” I said calmly. He was carrying a duffel bag and had a look of determination on his face.

“I have to run an errand. I’ll be back in a bit,” he said as he reached me.

“Now? But the party . . .” I pouted.

“I know, I know. It won’t take long.” He kissed me on the forehead.

“You’re going to miss the fireworks show.”

“I won’t. I promise. I have to go.” He walked out the front door, closing it behind him. I took a deep breath and ran up the stairs as fast as I possibly could. Shannon hadn’t texted back. Out of breath, I tried to open the office door, but it was locked. I pounded on it.

“Shannon,” I cried out. “Open the door! Are you okay?”

I pressed my ear against the door, but I didn’t hear anything. I jiggled the knob and pounded and kicked. Oh my God. What did he do? My eyes welled up with tears as I banged harder.

The door unlocked and opened. Even though Shannon was wearing heavy Halloween makeup, I could tell underneath she was pale as a ghost. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her in for a tight hug. “Thank God you’re okay!” I exclaimed, out of breath.

“Did you get my text?”

I released her, still holding her shoulders. “Yes. Where is he going with that gun?”

“I have no idea.”

Guns didn’t bother me. I had one—hell, everyone in Texas had one. But they didn’t walk around with the sinister look that Bryce had on his face.