Dead in Her Tracks (Rogue Winter #2)(29)

Now two mirrored balls scattered a thousand pieces of light through the hall, and Bruce’s band played a slow country tune. Bruce sat in a chair on the stage, his fiddle blending with the other instruments. Her heart swelled with happiness to see him finally play again after Amber Lynn’s death.

New Year’s Eve. A time for new beginnings and a chance to put the past behind us.

Donald Montgomery hadn’t survived Zane’s bullet to his chest.

Stevie wanted never to think about him again, but the horrors that had been discovered inside and behind his mother’s home kept coming back to haunt her. The bodies of six women had been found buried behind the home. Three had been identified. Samantha Lyle and the two missing Medford women. The other three were being compared with data on missing women in southern Oregon and Northern California. Zane speculated Donald had placed Vanessa Phillips in her motel room to empty the police station, knowing how few people would be working Christmas Day, creating an opportunity to silence Bob Fletcher. Somehow the meek Donald Montgomery the town had always known had grown bold enough to believe he wouldn’t be caught. It wasn’t the first time hubris had tripped up a criminal.

Next to Donald’s bed, investigators had found a small box of jewelry. Vanessa Phillips’s missing bracelet had been identified, along with Stevie’s engagement ring. Zane had handed it to her, asking if she wanted a different one, worrying that it was associated with bad memories.

Stevie had slipped on the ring and stared at it on her finger as different emotions battled inside her chest. “No. I’ll keep it. It’s a reminder of what we’ve been through. And it’s proof that we can overcome what life throws at us.” A battle scar.

Her doctor was concerned that she’d have permanent scarring on her neck and hands. Currently it looked like she’d been burned. The rough, knotted rope and shackles had ripped away the top layer of her skin. If they did scar, it would be another reminder of the strength of her and Zane’s connection.

A special connection.

Zane had studied the room that Donald had locked the women in, noting the extensive soundproofing, and then asked Stevie to return with him that morning. She hadn’t wanted to go back to the house, but she’d humored him. A wave of panic had swept over her as he closed her inside the basement room with directions to scream while he stood at the top of the stairs. She’d sat on the bed and screamed her lungs out. Fifteen seconds later he’d opened the door and she’d lunged into his arms, needing out of the enclosed space. His face had been white, and he’d said he hadn’t heard a single sound even when he’d stood right outside the door.

How did he hear me that night?

Her mother had told her not to question it.

The master bedroom in Donald’s home appeared not to have been disturbed in the two years since his mother had died. Her bathrobe lay across the foot of the bed and her hearing aids sat on her nightstand as if waiting for her to wake.

Donald had slept in a twin bed in a small bedroom. It was bare of decor and reminiscent of a jail cell with its metal bed frame and single chair. In this room they’d found a small stash of loose oxy that Zane theorized had been stolen from Bob Fletcher’s home. He believed Donald had broken into Bob’s home after his death to remove any possible links to himself. A large hunting knife had also been found in the bedroom, a small spot of dried blood on its handle. Stevie had no doubt that testing would reveal it to be Bob Fletcher’s blood.

“Stop thinking,” Zane ordered as he pulled her tighter to him on the dance floor.

She gratefully obeyed, resting her head against his shoulder. “I’m so happy, Zane.”

He moved his face to her hair. “That makes two of us.”

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

His chest vibrated in a chuckle. “Most people don’t consider seven months to be too long. I’d rather have you confident in your decision instead of always wondering.”

She lifted her head and met his gaze, overwhelmed with love for her man. “I’m confident.”

As if on cue, fireworks lit up the sky outside, flashing colored light through the windows of the grange. Everyone stopped dancing to look through the giant windows. Zane looked behind him, studying the crowd.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Looking for your fireworks partner in crime.” He gestured at Carly, who was watching the fireworks with Seth’s arm around her shoulders. “I thought maybe this was the Taylor women at work, but it looks like you guys took a night off.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Stevie replied, avoiding his gaze.

“I love you even though you’re a lawbreaker.”

She looked into his dark eyes and adoration for him flowed through her. “I love you too.”

His smile melted her heart.