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“There was a cat.” Bells presses a hand to her forehead. “A big one.”
“Leonard.” I shrug. “He likes to play in the road.”
“You’re on a first-name basis with a cat?” Clover asks.
I glance at her, taking in her long hair and fluffy, warm coat. She’s meant to ride beside me, a perfect fit for the passenger seat in my truck.
“Leonard and I go way back.”
“So, you’ve lived in Frozen Falls a long time?” Clover holds her hands in front of the hot air vent, so I turn it up a notch.
“A few years, yeah.”
“Where did you live before?” Her fingernails are a light pink with little sparkles on them.
“All over.” I don’t think getting into my sordid past as a professional killer for the Brotherhood is in my best interest, not when it comes to convincing Clover to trust me. She’s already put her faith in me, and I don’t want to tarnish it. “What brings the three of you to Frozen Falls?”
“We wanted to get away.” Aurora, the bubbly one in the back, pipes up. “We’ve been on the road for months, on tour, you know?”
“Aurora’s a star. Have you heard of her?”
“I can’t say as I have.”
“That’s okay.” Clover shrugs. “She’s been number one on Billboard a few times and has the biggest talent of anyone I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, Clover.” Aurora shakes her head. “You are always too good to me.”
“Not at all.”
“So, you toured the country?” I ask. “And now it’s done so you want a getaway?”
Aurora drops her gaze from mine in the rearview. “Well, sort of. We were supposed to go back to LA, but we had some trouble.” She grimaces and falls silent.
“What sort of trouble?”
Clover reaches back between the seats and squeezes Aurora’s hand. “Aurora has a stalker. He’s been after her nonstop ever since she turned him down.”
“It’s not normal,” Bells adds. “He’s obsessed to the point it reminds me of a Lifetime movie, you know? Not healthy.”
“Not safe.” Clover shudders. “Kent Kingston is a menace.”
“Sounds like an asshole to me.” I ease around a hairpin curve in the road at the top of a ridge.
“Pretty much.” Clover nods.
I slow down, then bring the truck to a stop.
“What is it?” Clover looks over at me.
I lean forward in my seat and peer at the road. An old logging road winds up along the ridge, and there are fresh tire tracks coming out of it and heading toward town. I follow the line of the ridge with my gaze. It leads back to the spot where I thought I saw movement earlier.
“Something wrong?” Clover’s voice rises an octave.
I press the gas and keep moving. “Does anyone else know you’re out here?”
“What kind ofHills Have Eyesquestion is that?” Bells snaps.
Clover turns around in her seat. “That bump on your head is getting bigger. Are you sure you’re okay?”
