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of the wall, he looked around it, and saw the quiet living area. The front door stood open about an inch, with two suitcases to the side of it, a worn couch sat against the back wall and a small TV with rabbit ears was perched on a square table across from the couch. A pair of slouching bookshelves stood on either side of the TV. Glancing out the front window, Trick didn’t see Lydia and he moved into the room, taking quick steps and heading toward the hallway which led to the bedrooms. He stopped just outside of it when he heard a noise. Turning, he saw Lydia, her eyes wide, holding and aiming a gun at him.

He stopped cold and raised his arms.

“Well, well, well,” she said. “Who the hell are you?”

**

Running up to the trunk, Valerie lowered her gun and stuck it into the back of her jeans. “Mason?” She grabbed his arm, and his eyes fluttered. “Are you okay?”

He groaned.

“Mason?” She gently shook him.

He blinked and became more alert. His gaze met hers and he grimaced. “Valerie?” he whispered. “Where am I?” He gripped his bloody arm with red fingers.

“You’re in the trunk of your car. Can you get out?”

Trying to move, he sucked in a pained breath. “She shot me.”

Valerie tried to assess his injuries. Blood soaked his shirt, but he was lying sideways so it was hard to determine where it originated. “You’re bleeding. A lot. Maybe you should stay still.”

He grunted and shifted, gritting his teeth. “Help me up.”

“Are you sure?”

He raised a bloody hand, and she took it. “Yes,” he said.

Pulling, she helped to lift his upper body. “Where are you hit?”

Once sitting up, he took hold of the edge and strained to ease himself out. “Shoulder,” he said with groan.

“Be careful.” She tried to stabilize him as he rolled out, threw a leg over, and almost fell into the dirt. Grabbing him, she held on until he could get his feet under him and he sat on the bumper. Sweat poured down his face, and his knuckles were white as he held his arm. “You need an ambulance.”

“You alone?” he asked, breathing heavily. “How’d you find me?”

“Trick,” she said. “He’s going after Lydia.”

Mason grunted. “Lydia? You mean Shay.”

“No. I mean Lydia. We saw a picture of her at her mother’s. It’s Lydia who’s alive.”

“But Serita Avery is Shay.”

“True. But Serita Avery is dead. Lydia killed Shay with Bradley’s help.”

At the mention of Bradley’s name, Mason paled more than Valerie thought possible. “Bradley. Where’s Bradley?” He pushed up from the car and tried to stand.

Valerie held him up. “What are you doing?”

“I have to find Bradley. He has Mikey.”

Valerie supported him until he stood on his own and walked to the door. “He drove into the woods. There’s a path, but we didn’t see anyone with him.”

Mason made it to the door and pushed it open. “What path?”

“There.” Valerie pointed.

Mason followed her finger and nodded. “I see it.” Holding his shoulder, he took a deep breath, and straightened.

“What are you doing?”

Mason eyed the house. “Is Trick armed?”

“No.”

“Hell,” said Mason. “Check my ankle holster.” He grabbed at a pant leg.

Valerie leaned and pulled on his jeans. “It’s empty.”

He sucked in a shuddered breath. “Valerie,” he said softly. “Go help Trick. Lydia is armed. She’ll shoot him. I’m going after Bradley.”

“You can barely move.”

“Trust me. I’ll be moving in no time. Bradley’s going to kill Mikey, if she’s not dead already.” His stricken face turned stony. “And if she is, then I’m going to kill Bradley.”

“Mason─”

“Go now. Trick will need your help.” And he darted out of the barn with way more vigor than Valerie believed him to have, and disappeared into the woods.

**

Trick didn’t move an inch. “Hi, Lydia.”

Lydia tensed and her wide eyes narrowed.

“There’s no point in denying it. I talked to your mother. Nice lady, if not a bit high-strung. I saw your picture on the wall.”

Lydia straightened her aim. “You talked to my mother?” She paused. “Who are you?”

Trick spoke gently, in hopes of keeping her at ease. “I’m Trick Monroe. Chad Howard’s stepbrother. I came to investigate his death.” At the mention of Chad, Lydia’s face furrowed. “I understand you used to work with Chad. Were you two close?”

Lydia scoffed. “He was an idiot. Like all of them.”

“I do admit. Men can make some stupid mistakes. I’ve made a few myself.” He forced in a slow breath. “What mistake did Chad make with you?”

She hesitated. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

Trick projected as much calm as he could muster. “Yes, you do. I bet you’re dying to talk about it. My guess is that Bradley’s not a good audience. How did you manage to sway him to help you kill Shay and Chad? He doesn’t strike me as the brains of your partnership.”

“He only helped…” She tipped her head. “I see what you’re trying to do. Get me to confess.”

Trick chuckled. “We’ve gone way past confession time, Lydia. You’re holding a gun on me, Mason came here believing you were Shay, and he and Mikey are missing. All roads lead to you and Bradley. I’d say the jig is up.”

“Cissy did it. Cissy killed Chad, and Lydia, or so everyone thinks.” She smiled and the gun shook in her grasp.

Trick shook his head. “Since we’ve got a few minutes, or at least I hope we do, let me take a guess at what really happened.” He paused and when Lydia didn’t shoot, he continued. “You and Chad were co-workers. You liked him, and maybe he liked you. An affair ensued. Now, I’m just not sure if Chad slept with you or Shay, but there was funny business going on. You and Shay, however, weren’t too happy with each other. One was jealous of the other. You like your pills and she liked her booze. It’s a tricky combo, and once it erupted, well, it led to murder.” He lowered his voice. “Am I on the right track?”

She just

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