“It’s crazy.” Emily climbed down off the chair and began helping Lacy gather up the sewing supplies. “At first I was terrified. Well, I guess I’m still terrified, but honestly, I’m also angry.” She patted Lacy’s shoulder. “Anyway, I’m not going to let the killer or the weather get me down. The weather is going to hold, the road will open and you’ll have a beautiful wedding, without my fashion faux pas spoiling the day.”
“I hope you’re right and everyone I invited can be here,” Lacy said.
“Who in the wedding party is still missing?” Emily asked.
“Paige Riddell. She recently moved to Denver with her boyfriend, Rob Allerton.”
“Of course.” Paige had run a bed-and-breakfast in town prior to moving away. “I never knew her well, but she seemed really nice.”
“She is nice. And I really want her here for my wedding. But you can’t fight nature, I guess, so we’re going to make do no matter what.” She turned to Emily. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done to help,” she said. “Not just with the wedding preparations, but all the work you’ve put into entertaining the wedding guests who are already here. I forget that the weather has forced you to put your own life on hold, too.”
Like everyone else who had been in town when the first blizzard struck, Emily had been stuck in Eagle Mountain for most of the past month. “The first few weeks I was on my winter break,” she said. She was working on her master’s at Colorado State University and was employed by the university as a teaching assistant and researcher. “It’s just the last ten days that I’ve missed. Fortunately, the university has been very understanding, letting me complete some of my coursework and research online, delaying some other work and arranging for another researcher to teach my undergrad class until I get back.”
“I’m glad,” Lacy said. “Can you imagine having to delay your master’s degree because of snow?”
“Snow has its upsides, too,” Emily said. “That sleigh ride last week was a blast, and I’m looking forward to the bonfire Wednesday.”
“Every party you’ve thrown has been a big success,” Lacy said. “I’m sure most brides don’t entertain their guests so lavishly.”
“Well, everything has gone well except the scavenger hunt,” Emily said. “I wouldn’t call that a success.”
“It’s not your fault Fiona was murdered during the party.” Lacy hugged herself and shuddered. “I thought for sure Travis would catch the killer after that—he was so close, right here on the ranch.”
Just like that, the conversation turned back to the Ice Cold Killer as the two friends remembered each of his victims—some of them locals they had known, a few tourists or newcomers they had never had a chance to meet. But every person who had fallen victim to the killer had been young and female, like Emily and Lacy. They didn’t have to say it, but they were both keenly aware that they might have been one of the killer’s victims—or they still might be.
Emily was relieved when the door to the sunroom, where they were working, opened and Bette Fuller, one of Lacy’s best friends and the caterer for the wedding, breezed in. Blonde and curvy, Bette always lit up the room, and today she was all smiles. “Rainey just got back from town and she says the highway is open.” Bette hugged Lacy. “I know this is what you’ve been waiting for.”
“Is Rainey sure?” Lacy asked.
“Rainey isn’t one for spreading rumors or telling lies,” Emily said. The ranch cook was even more stone-faced and tight-lipped than Travis. Emily looked down at the dress she was wearing, now bristling with pins and marks made with tailor’s chalk. “Maybe I won’t have to wear this old thing after all.”
“Rainey said there was a line of delivery trucks coming into town,” Bette said. “Which is a good thing, since the stores are low on everything.”
“I’m going to call Paige and tell her and Rob to drop everything and drive over right now—before another avalanche closes the road,” Lacy said. “And I need to check with the florist and look at the tracking for the bridesmaids’ dresses and the wedding favors and the guest book I ordered, too.”
“I can help you with some of that,” Bette said.
“You two go on,” Emily said. “I’ll finish cleaning up in here.” The prom dress—pins and all—could go back in the closet. If she was lucky, she’d never have to put it on again.
As she gathered up the clutter from around the room, she thought of all the work that went into weddings. This was only her second time serving as a bridesmaid, and she was looking forward to the ceremony, though she was a little nervous, too. Mostly, she hoped she wouldn’t get too emotional. Weddings were supposed to be hopeful occasions, but they always made her a little melancholy, wondering what her own wedding would have been like—and how different her life might have turned out if she had accepted the one proposal she had had.
Who was she kidding? If she had agreed to marry that man, it would have been a disaster. She had been far too young for marriage, and he certainly hadn’t been ready to settle down, no matter what he said. At least she had had sense enough to see that.
She was stowing the last of the sewing supplies and looking forward to changing back into jeans and a sweater when the door to the sunroom opened again and a man entered, obscured from the waist up by a tower of brown boxes. “I met the UPS driver on the way in and he asked me to drop these off,” said a deep, velvety voice that sent a hot tremor up Emily’s spine and made her wonder if she was hallucinating. “Whoever answered the door told me to bring them back here.”
“Thanks.” Emily hurried to relieve the man of his burdens, then almost dropped the boxes as she came face-to-face with Brodie Langtry.
The man who had once proposed to her. She felt unsteady on her feet, seeing him here in this house again after so long. And if she was upset, her family was going to be furious.
“Hello, Emily.” He grinned, his full lips curving over even, white teeth, eyes sparking with a blatant sex appeal that sent a bolt of remembered heat straight through her. “You’re looking well.” A single furrow creased his brow. “Though I have to ask—what is that you’re wearing?”
She looked down at the prom dress, the hem lopped off and bristling with pins, one ruffle hanging loose where Lacy had started to detach it. She looked back up at Brodie, feeling a little like she had been hit on the head and was still reeling from the blow. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“As it happens, the Colorado Bureau of Investigation sent me here to help your brother with a case,” he said. “I hear you’ve got a serial murderer problem.”
“Does Travis know you’re coming?” Her brother hadn’t said anything to her. Then again, he was probably trying to spare her feelings.
“He requested assistance from the CBI, though he doesn’t know it’s me. Is that going to be a problem?”
She bit her lower lip. “I don’t know.”
“It’s been five years, Emily,” he said.
Right. But it might have been five minutes for all the pain that was twisting her stomach. She hadn’t expected to react like this. She was supposed to be over Brodie. “You never answered my letter,” she said.
The crease across his brow deepened. “You sent me a letter?”
“You mean you don’t even remember?” The words came out louder than she had intended, and she forced herself to lower her voice. “I tried calling, but your number had been changed. Travis found out you’d been transferred to Pueblo, so I wrote to you there.”
He shook his head. “I never received your letter. Why did you write?”
Did