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Mick was beginning to understand what Louise was telling them. He almost knew what she was going to say before she said it. “You were alone with Miss Hester?”
Louise nodded, tears rising in her eyes. “I was so embarrassed, Mick, so horribly embarrassed. Miss Hester made me realize it wasn’t a good idea to tell Pastor Bob what a fool I’d been. She offered to help.”
Of course she did. And Mick suddenly knew exactly how Pastor Bob’s sister had offered to help. Louise’s words confirmed it.
“Miss Hester took the gun.”
JACEY HAD BEEN looking for Caro all afternoon but couldn’t find her. She needed to talk to the woman, needed to get her alone to try to find out how the heck she’d pulled off the miracle of getting Jacey’s job back.
She knew damn well Renauld hadn’t done it out of the goodness of his heart. He’d acted that way, of course, when he and Caro had called Jacey to the production trailer and told her she’d been rehired. But Jacey had known Caro was responsible.
She was thankful. But also unhappy with the one stipulation: that she stay away from Digg.
“I guess he didn’t care so much,” she muttered aloud as she stood in her room at the Little Bohemie Inn. Digg hadn’t sought her out at all, not even when he’d thought she’d been fired.
So much for Mr. Hero. Once their friendship had been exposed, he’d covered himself, making sure he didn’t get ejected from the game by steering clear of Jacey. She didn’t know whether she was more disappointed or heartbroken.
Heartbroken would involve her heart, so she refused to think that, even though in her deepest thoughts, she suspected that’s what this ache, this emptiness, meant.
It was dinnertime and the rest of the cast and crew were downstairs eating a meal the studio had had brought in. They couldn’t take a long break tonight because they’d be taping well into the evening.
Tonight would determine the final four—the four contestants who would go on to the last episode ofKilling Time. The last one standing that final night would walk away with a cool million. Either the killer, who’d fooled and killed off all the other players in the game. Or else one of the contestants, who’d survived long enough to finger the Derryville Demon during the last, dramatic confrontation.
The final four would have one last face-to-face, questioning each other, going over the facts while also lying to each other. They’d try to figure out the killer while also trying to trick the other players into naming the wrong person. And, of course, the killer would try to throw everyone off. Then each player would be put in a booth where they would guess the killer and lay out the entire case.
If the three “detectives” guessed wrong or couldn’t explain exactly how the crimes had taken place—means, motive, and opportunity—the killer won the prize. If a player named the killer, however, and put all the pieces of the entire puzzling case together, that person would get the money.
She wondered how Digg would fare, if he’d survive, if he’d come out of this adventure a millionaire. If he’d give her a second thought once he was gone. “Probably not. I’ll be a distant memory chalked up as a notch on the new fireman’s hose he’ll buy with the million bucks.”
“Actually,” a voice said from the doorway, “there will be a new fireman’s hose if I win. I plan to help refurbish the station. But if anyone cut a notch in it, it wouldn’t be much good at putting out fires, would it?”
Jacey closed her eyes, wondering why Digg was here, entering her room, closing the door behind him. But oh, so very glad he was.
“What are you doing? You know we can’t be alone together.”
Digg shrugged. “Everyone’s at dinner. And I assume the crew’s rooms aren’t wired?”
Jacey shook her head, thankful for that much. This was one room in the inn where they actually could talk in private.
“I’ve been trying to get a minute alone with you since Thursday.” He stepped closer, running the backs of his fingers over her cheeks. Damn, if there were tearstains there, she’d just have to jump off a bridge or something.
“Jacey, I’m so sorry about what happened.”
“You are?” Her voice shook. She couldn’t help it. “I wasn’t even sure you knew. Or cared.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her temple. “You really need to work on your self-confidence issues.”
Her jaw dropped. “Me? I don’t have issues. I’m a ball-breaker, not scared of anything.”
He smiled slightly. “Except genuine emotion. A real relationship. The possibility that nice guys do exist, and the tough girl can fall in love.”
She tried hard to hold herself stiff, though her entire body wanted to melt against him. “You think I’m in love with you?”
He nodded, kissing her cheek, then her nose, then the corner of her mouth. “I know you are.” Then, before he moved his lips over hers, he murmured, “Because I love you, too.”
Then he was kissing her, touching her with his mouth and body, even as he’d touched her with his words. Jacey wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tight, kissing him unreservedly, with all the emotion she’d kept locked up inside herself forever.
When the kiss finally ended, she looked up at him, losing herself again in his serious brown eyes. “You could have waited and told me this after the show. I hate that you’re risking yourself for me.”
