Page 90 of Cold as Hell

He doesn’t even answer that. I made a mistake coming out here. Yes, Storm works best with me, but this has been such an easy trail to follow that she didn’t need my guidance. I’m slowing them down. I’m holding Dalton back. And the contractions haven’t stopped. If anything, they’re getting stronger.

Could it be actual labor?

I push aside the panic. Even if it is, I know from my research that labor lasts for hours. Many hours. Early contractions are just a signal to start thinking about packing a bag for the hospital.

We’ll get Yolanda and return to Haven’s Rock. I won’t tell Dalton, of course—he can’t afford to be distracted right now, when we’re so close. But I do need to issue one warning.

“Don’t rely on me,” I whisper. “I’m doing okay, but I’m struggling. If there’s a confrontation, I’ll keep myself safely out of it, but I can’t help.”

Dalton lets out a low chuckle. “You’re eight months pregnant, Butler. I wasn’t planning on relying on you for backup. No offense.”

“Hey, my trigger finger works just fine.”

“But you can’t charge and wrestle him to the ground?” He sighs. “There goes that plan.”

“If you wrestle him to the ground, I can sit on him. I’m big enough for that now.”

“You’re fifteen pounds heavier, Butler. That’s not much help.” His arm goes around my shoulders, and he gives me asqueeze. “When we get close, I’m going to find you a place to hunker, and you will hunker. With your dog and your gun at the ready, but you will hunker.”

I nod. “I will.”

I’m breathing easier now, the conversation easing my worry and lightening the tension. We’re so close. We will get to Yolanda. We—

Storm goes still, nose lifted. Then she whines, and her entire body shakes with excitement. She’s looking to our left, inland instead of across the lake. Jacob and Anders are still moving forward in the old direction—heading away from wherever Storm seems to be scenting her target.

Dalton seems ready to bird-call to them, but then he stops. Jerome knows that birdcall. Dalton shifts his weight, glaring at his brother and deputy, as if he can mentally force them to turn around.

“Go on,” I whisper. “I’ll stay right here with Storm.”

He glances at me. I move closer to a bush and maneuver Storm in front of me as a blockade.

“Look, I’m hunkering,” I whisper.

He grunts. Then he takes off at a silent lope. I watch as he catches up with Jacob and Anders. There’s a quick conference. Jacob peers around and points at something. Dalton nods and ducks his head, half crouching as he runs past a line of low bushes back to me.

“Jacob spotted tracks,” he says. “On the hillside.”

I hesitate. That’s in the general direction where Storm was indicating, which is away from where she’d originally indicated. But it’s also heading inland from the lake. Does that make sense?

Yes, it probably does. There’s no reason to think Jerome would kill Yolanda the same way he killed Lynn. As far as Icould tell, he’s never repeated an MO. The apparent destination of the lake could be a decoy.

“You should go,” I whisper.

Dalton starts to shake his head.

“Go,” I say. I lift my gun and point to Storm. “I’m fine. Storm and I are downwind, and I have a clear sight line across the ice. Jerome isn’t going to sneak up on us. They need you out there.”

“You’ll stay here?”

“Hunkered in place,” I say.

He pauses for another two seconds. Then he gives an abrupt nod and takes off.

Dalton’s soft footfalls have long since faded to silence. I check my watch, and only five minutes have passed, but it feels like an hour. Storm isn’t helping. After Dalton left, she started to fuss. Then the fussing turned to low whines. When that didn’t work, she tried to leave her stay position. She’d step forward, and I’d stop her and she’d fidget, like a child forced to sit too long. Except shecanhold a stay indefinitely without more than a grunt of complaint.

She keeps looking to her left. I think she’s glancing in the direction Dalton went, a clear message to me that we should be following. But then I notice her gaze is fixed farther left.

She seems to be looking at the bush we’re crouched behind, and I check that, as if Jerome could somehow be on the other side. Of course, he’s not, but when I move to peer around it, Storm rocks forward, as if I’ve finally understood her message.

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