Page 40 of Brutal Ice

Beau’s face tightened. “People say she’s almost psychic when it comes to finding dead bodies. She hunts with her dog, Banshee.”

“I think I need her to do a hunt at the old winery where I found Violet.”

Beau cursed.

“There were three dead vics that I linked to the perp, but I’m suspecting there are more.” His instincts screamed there were. “And I think the doctor of the dead can help me find them.”

“This is gonna go from bad to worse, isn’t it?”

“Probably.” He glanced at his watch. “See if you can work your magic and get her to town for me, will you?”

“And what will you be doing?”

“Ah, what I do best, of course.” He flashed a tiger’s smile. “Hunting the sonofabitch.”

Sweat soaked her body. The rehearsal had been brutal so far. In a way that she absolutely needed. Her movements had needed to be timed down to the exact second. Her focus complete. Violet hadn’t been able to waste energy thinking about the jerk who’d taken her. Or what could have happened at her house last night.

“Bring out the coffin!” Micah’s voice rang out. “Looking great, people! Great! Violet, perfect death. You were delicate and tragic, and that was just what I needed.”

“Praise from Micah.” Simone—just as sweat soaked as Violet—slid toward her. “That’s like winning the lottery.”

Violet bobbed her head because Simone was absolutely right.

“Curtains will be down.” Micah was holding court in the middle of the stage. “During the intermission, the coffin will be brought out by the crew. Violet, you’ll get inside as soon as it is positioned. The curtain will rise, and the prince will come. He’ll be desperate to awaken you.”

The stage crew brought out the coffin. Made of glass—and gold. Or at least, it looked like gold lining the edges of the coffin. It wasn’t, of course.

“Beautiful.” Micah hurried forward and ran his hands over the coffin once the stage hands put it in place. “Seriously, it’s exactly what I wanted. The audience can see our poor heroine through the glass. Every inch of her. They’ll grieve with the other dancers. Emotions will be high.” He raised the lid of the coffin. “Violet, hurry, get inside!”

Right. Inside the coffin.

At least it’s made of glass. Since she could see through it, she shouldn’t feel claustrophobic. Her feet rushed across the stage, and she slipped inside. Violet stretched out her body. The coffin had been built so that it fit her body perfectly. Not a whole lot of wiggle room, but, it worked.

“Arms over your chest,” Micah ordered.

She put her arms over her chest.

“Perfect.”

She watched him lower the lid. Then she stared through the glass and looked up at him.

Micah smiled at her. “You’re gorgeous in death.”

A shiver slid over her body.

He tapped the lid. “Okay, eyes closed. We’re going to lower the stage lights and send in the fog.” He rose and turned to the crew. “I want the mournful music playing. This is our death march. The tone should reflect her sorrowful end…”

Her body had felt so warm just moments before. But now she seemed chilled. She hadn’t closed her eyes. Not yet.

She kept her hands over her chest. The other dancers backed away. Violet knew they’d come out on their cue. When the curtain rose, though, she’d be the only one on the stage. The coffin would be the focus. Fog would swirl around her, like wisps of the evil queen’s magic lingering in the air.

Violet breathed in and out as she tried to calm her racing heartbeat.

The lights overhead dimmed.

She jerked.

With all the darkness…

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