Page 107 of Raging Inferno

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Presley was stunned speechless. Too many thoughts zinged through her head, and she couldn’t focus. She knew there was a reason the Cheerios had broken up, but never in her wildest dreams had she conjured up a scenario as twisted and sick as this one.

They had lied. To. Her. Face. They had comforted her during Gwen’s funeral, hugged her, and told her how much they had loved Gwen, calling her a sister.

Lies. It had all been one great, big, disgusting deception.

Gwen’s own friends had killed her. They hadn’t had the decency to own up to it, instead blaming someone else. Jerrod had killed himself under the crushing burden of guilt. Why hadn’t her friends felt the same remorse?

“We didn’t mean for it to happen, Presley,” Tamera implored. “We loved her.”

“Presley, look at me. Please?” Jessie begged, but Presley couldn’t do it. She had adored these women, and they had betrayed her in the worst way.

“We were young and stupid.”

“It was an accident, Jessie.” Presley hated that her voice cracked. “Why didn’t you get help like any decent person? Gwen would still be alive.”

“We panicked! Tamera couldn’t find a pulse.”

Tamera gasped. “What? Don’t you dare blame me. I wasn’t a doctor. How was I supposed to know if there was one or not?”

“Because you said there wasn’t one! We believed you.”

“Well, I didn’t push her, and I sure as hell didn’t set the fire that killed her.”

“Stop!” Val shouted. “What’s done is done.” She stomped over, ripped a strip of duct tape off the roll, and slapped it on Jessie loud enough that the sound echoed in the room. She did the same to Tamera. Then she fiddled with the saline bags.

“You bitches will get everything you deserve. You killed Gwen, and you killed my brother.”

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Dominic had never driven so fast in his life. Nothing mattered but getting to Presley as quickly as possible. A voice in the back of his brain warned him to be careful because of Gia. He couldn’t make rash decisions that might leave her alone in the world. She’d already lost her mother. He let up on the accelerator.

“What’s our plan when we get there?”

“You need to follow my lead,” Kayne insisted. “I’ll ascertain the situation and decide the course of action. If you can’t abide by that, you can stay in the vehicle, voluntarily or not.”

As much as it chapped Dom’s hide, Kayne was the professional. He would defer to him. “Agreed.”

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Presley’s mind reeled. Val intimated that they’d killed her brother too. What could’ve happened to make them take another life? “What do you mean?”

“I should introduce myself, Presley. My full name is Valarie Anders Moran.”

Moran. Presley’s mouth gaped. “Jerrod Moran.”

Val nodded. “He was my younger brother, and I adored him, practically raised him. He was the most important person in my life. I knew he wouldn’t have been so careless as to cause Gwen’s death. I was right. Do me a favor, Presley. Look around.”

She did, surveying the room with a feeling of dread. They were in a cottage with wood-paneled walls, a small kitchen, and a stone fireplace, where a blaze roared, heating the already warm room.

“This is my family’s cabin . . . well, a replica. I went to painstaking lengths to make it look exactly the same. This is the last place Gwen saw before she died.” Val tsked. “I’m really going to hate setting it on fire.”

Val had rebuilt the cottage only to torch it with Jessie, Tamera, and possibly Presley inside. Her world was spiraling out of control. Everything she’d believed had blown up in an instant. “What made you suspect something happened other than what the authorities concluded years ago?”

“Call it sisterly intuition. I worked hard to get the job in Duluth to be close to the women. It took years. When the prior medical examiner had an unfortunate accident, it was my time. Besides, revenge is a dish best served cold, no?”

“Did you have something to do with that accident?”

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