Page 86 of Locked In Ice

Ophelia whirled back and stared up at the ornate building.Plenty of people were lingering.Plenty would still dance the night away and enjoy the open bar.But her client was safe.The job was done.

Gerald is here.Those words kept repeating through her mind.

She yanked out her phone and called Lane even as she hurried toward the back of the building.Her high heels clicked with every step.

The phone rang and rang, but Lane didn’t pick up.

She kicked off her shoes and flat-out ran for him.Fear blasted through her.More fear than she could remember feeling in a very long time.Lane shouldn’t have gone out back without her.They were partners.That meant something.

Her grip nearly broke the phone when his voicemail picked up.

She reached the back of the building and barely felt the rough concrete digging into her feet.Four catering trucks waited.The guard she’d grabbed earlier was climbing out of the back of the truck closest to her.

“Nobody in this one!”he yelled.

She raced past him to the second truck.She jerked on the door.

Locked.

“I’ll check the next one,” the security guard said as he jogged toward her.

There was a big handle attached to the rear of the truck in front of her.She could hear humming coming from inside.She knew some of the trucks had refrigeration systems because her aunt owned a catering business.Those systems were standard in an operation of this size.

Ophelia grabbed the big handle and wrenched it to the side.She hauled open the door.The guard was still close and he could—

“Ohmygod!”A stunned exclamation from the guard.He’d staggered to a stop close by.

Ophelia stared into the interior of the truck.Lane crouched over a man—and the small overhead light in the back of the truck revealed that the man who sprawled there was covered in blood.Deep slash wounds crisscrossed over his chest.His blood had soaked his shirt, and the blood was all over Lane’s arms and hands.

“He killed him,” the guard gasped.

“Lane issavinghim,” Ophelia snapped back.“Get that crap straight.And go call an ambulance, now!Get help!”She shoved the guard into motion when he remained frozen before she jumped into the back of the catering truck.

The guard shouted, “Help!We need help!”

Ophelia scrambled to Lane and sank to her knees beside him.One look at the bloody man, and she’d known it was Gerald.Different hair.Thinner.But Gerald.

So many knife wounds to his chest.

Lane’s head turned toward her.

“Tell me what to do,” she urged him.Yet even as she said those words, her gaze fell to Gerald’s right hand.

And she saw the string tied around his ring finger.

Chapter Seventeen

A bloody mess.That was what remained in the back of the catering truck.The knife was there—one of the knives that belonged to the catering company.Blood stained Lane’s new tux, and Ophelia hated the grim set of his jaw.

“How did you know?”Lane asked quietly.His hands were fists at his sides.

“You texted me.”The cops were still swarming.People at the party were gaping at the scene.This engagement celebration would not be forgotten anytime soon.“I got Isabelle to safety and ran to you as fast as I could.”She glared at him.“Wait for your partner.That is lesson nine.Youdon’tleave your partner.”

“He was here.”

“Yes, well…”You still have Gerald’s blood on you to prove it.“We could have gone after him together.”And you could have been killed going off on your own.You could have been the one in the back of a catering truck with stab wounds all over you.Unable to hold back—because she knew exactly what did happen when you held back—Ophelia surged forward and wrapped her arms around Lane.She held him tightly.

“Uh, Ophelia?”

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