Page 109 of Mountain Wood

I start to second guess everything. “Bryson doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would go through all this trouble on a night with such bad weather.”

“You don’t know him like I do. He would have waited for the perfect chance,” she explains. “And what better timing than to come here while we’re out at the Jubilee last night? He probably came when hesaw us down there. The snow wasn’t deep yet, Hell, it had just started to get heavy. He could have been in and out in no time, and the snow would have covered his tracks.”

She’s onto something.

“Trust me. You learn a lot from serial killer podcasts. Psychos usually have the patience of a clam and are meticulous. Bryson’s a total psychopath.”

That only fuels my fury more. I don’t want Grace anywhere near that cocksucker. And I’m pissed that he might have come back without my knowing. If only—

“Hang on. Maybe my wildlife cameras caught something.” It’s worth a shot, right? “Get in the truck with Oscar and wait for me.”

Fury and fear war in my bloodstream as I collect the SD cards from the cameras mounted on the nearby trees. Tucking them into my pocket, I hop in the truck and shift into drive.

“What about the snowmobile?”

“We’ll come back for it.” I can’t handle the stress of Grace being on that thing right now with everything else riding my system. “I feel better having you close.”

She takes my hand and squeezes it. “If he’s on that camera, I’m calling my brothers.”

“There’s no need to drag anyone else into this fight, Grace.”

“Oh, they’re not needed for the fight.” She looks me dead in the eyes. “They’re going to have to post my motherfucking bail.”

“Son of a bitch.” The heaviness is back, weighing my shoulders down as I stare at the computer screen. The first two cameras had nothing. But this third one?

“What’s he even doing?” Grace leans in to watch Bryson carry a box. “It looks like an air fryer.”

“It’s a portable air compressor.” I have one just like it in the barn. “He blew air into the hose hookup outside the cabin, which forced air into the already cold pipes inside the house. They’re so old, it wouldn’t take much for them to blow.”

Grace’s jaw drops. “That’s diabolical.”

“It’s genius.”

And disheartening.

My girl slams her fist on the table and marches away, cussing and saying things that would make the devil proud. She disappears for a moment, and I go back to watching the video, transferring copies of each clip to my desktop and a USB stick. I have no clue what I’m going to do with this information, but I need to use it wisely.

Yes, I could call the cops.

Yes, I could submit an insurance claim.

But I want to be careful with my next steps. Bryson’s unhinged. And rich and connected. I don’t want to jeopardize Grace’s safety any more than what’s already happened. If I call the cops and submit a report, it’ll be a while before they can bring him in. Even then, he’ll post bail. I already know he has the best lawyers that money can buy. And the insuranceclaim will cost me in the long run. The cabins are too old, so the payout will hardly cover the bare minimum it will take to fix each one.

“No good, rotten, little dicked piece of fuck…” Grace storms down the steps with her tool belt fastened around her hips. “I’m going to skin him alive.”

Her pink hammer bounces on her leg as she storms into the kitchen and grabs a knife.

Okay. Woah. Standing up, I watch her snatch a chef’s knife. “Hold on now. That’s not—”

“Relax.” She snags the serrated bread knife next. “I’ll give him options. I’m not totally unreasonable.”

She tries to stuff them into the loops of her tool belt, but they don’t fit.

I… don’t think she’s joking.

“Grace.”

“I’m fine. Everything’s going to be fine.” She rips open a drawer and digs around for… “These are good.” She snaps my tongs twice before shoving them into her tool belt too.

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