His jaw flexed, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low. “One of our team members—JJ Price—was found outside. He . . . well, he didn’t make it.”
The color drained from Mara’s face. She sank onto the nearest chair, the apron bunching in her lap.
“He was just a boy.” Her voice trembled. “I—I thought everyone was inside.”
Warren’s brow furrowed. “Do you know what happened?”
“We’re still determining that,” Rex said. “The police have been notified. Until they arrive—which most likely won’t be any time soon—I need everyone to stay inside the inn.”
Warren gave a grave nod. “Of course. Whatever you need.” He moved behind Mara’s chair and rested a hand on her shoulder.
Mara appeared stricken, her eyes shining with tears. “I’m so sorry. This was supposed to be a peaceful week for all of you. I just can’t believe something like this happened here at our inn . . .”
Rex crouched beside her chair, his tone softening in a way Olive rarely heard. “None of this is your fault, Mara. You know that, right?”
Mara hesitated before offering a nod.
As he straightened, Olive caught a flicker in his expression—something sharp and uneasy. Nervous.
She almost didn’t recognize it. Rex never let emotion breach his calm, not even under fire. But it was there—tight shoulders, a shallow breath—and then, just as quickly, it vanished. The composed, unflappable Rex Blackwood was back in place.
“We’ll get through this,” Rex said, his voice firm. “Together. For now, no wandering off alone.”
Mara nodded weakly. Warren guided her toward the kitchen, murmuring reassurances.
Olive watched them go, unease coiling in her gut. The caretakers were rattled, yes—but Rex’s momentary lapse unsettled her even more.
Ifhewas nervous, then things were worse than she thought.
The air in the room had grown too thick as Olive’s field team stood there.
Olive needed movement—she needed answers.
She needed to do something.
“I’d like to examine the scene outside.” She kept her voice low as she said the words, not wanting Mara and Warren to hear and freak out.
“Good idea.” Rex gave a curt nod. “Take Jason with you. The rest of us will move JJ to the basement. It’s cold enough there to preserve his body for the police.”
Olive pulled on her black down-filled coat, slipped on her still-damp gloves and hat, and went to the door.
As soon as she stepped outside, the cold slapped her hard enough to sting. The snow had eased only slightly, falling in softer flakes now instead of sideways daggers. The sky had turned dark, any nighttime brightness from the moon or stars blocked by thick, heavy clouds.
Behind them, the inn’s lights glowed golden through the windows. Ahead, the shed crouched under the weight of new snow, its door half-buried.
She waited until they were away from the inn before she shared with Jason what Tevin had told her.
“A mole?” he repeated, the same disbelief in his voice. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Me too,” she murmured as she stepped through the snowdrifts. “I don’t like the thought of it. Nor do I like the thought that one of my teammates may be responsible for JJ’s death.”
“Tevin, Mitzi, or Nova? They were the ones here. I can’t imagine them being guilty.”
“Same here.” She hesitated a moment. “But . . . did you notice that when Rex came back from the store, he didn’t have any bags?”
Jason paused and glanced at her. “What are you implying?”
“Nothing.” Olive shrugged. “Not really. But I just sensed something off about him when he heard about JJ. I can’t pinpoint what exactly. But I just feel like he’s keeping a secret.”
