Page 96 of Icy Cold Death

He hung up on Elizabeth freaking Blackhawk. His head was going to roll so far, and so fast, he wouldn’t know what hit him.

She.

Didn’t.

Play.

This was one way to get her to manifest on your town’s doorstep with an attitude.

He was dead.

Everyone stared at him.

“I don’t care who you call. I’m running this, and you found a body. Prove to me that you didn’t kill the women,” he said, but there was sweat on his brow.

Someone was rattled.

“First, I don’t live anywhere near here,” Tori said. “I’ve never been to this part of the state. I have alibis from the airport, the hotel, and if you check, my employees back home. I just arrived. By now, you should have researched any previous trips here, to which, you would have found none. How could I kill people from Salem.”

He didn’t look impressed.

You could learn a lot about a cop by how astute they were. This man was not. He’d missed a big clue.

PEOPLE.

“I need to know how you knew the woman was there. Because you didn’t ski up to that ravine and see her under the ice. There were footprints.”

She corrected at him.

“There are three women,” she said, channeling her guide. “Keri Hester was the only one I saw.”

He and his partner stared at her when she said that. They had just found out ten minutes ago that there wasn’t one victim, but three.

Now, how did they know that?

“How the hell?” he asked, but he didn’t get to finish.

Tori stopped him.

She.

Was.

Done.

“Know what makes me really good at my job?” she asked. “It’s fairly easy. I see dead people. It’s a little parting gift from the US Army PTSD. Your wife, the carrot cake muffin-maker, is right behind you. Breast cancer, huh? That sucks.”

He blanched and looked around.

Well, it was time to do what she did best. She opened her doors all the way, and a room full of dead people showed up. Trey was one of them.

“Lucian is coming, Sprout. Hang in there,” Trey offered. “Oh, and he’s pissed that someone put his wife in handcuffs, and it wasn’t him.”

Well, thank god for an angry attorney on their staff.

The detective pointed at her.

“No, she’s not. You’re full of shit!”

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