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Chapter Twenty-One
Cammie’s lungs filled with icicles, her muscles spasmed like frost had slipped inside them and her teeth chattered so bad that she was sure her tongue wasn’t safe if she said a word.
Luckily, she didn’t have to.
“I’ve heard it’s quite painless to die of hypothermia once the cold really sets in.” Ben crossed his legs like this was a Romper Room sing-along circle. “Your organs shut down then you just fall asleep.”
He had the nerve to shiver, like he was actually feeling the cold with his layers on, like she was without protection at all.
“Can I hold your hand?” Ben shifted forward.
Cammie nodded. It would save her from having to move to him.
He scooted closer, shifting until he could clasp her hand in his. Even with his gloves on, his gesture offered her no warmth.
She curled her near-frozen fingers around his then yanked him forward as she spun on her ass, ignoring the way the cold ripped through her clothes to bite at her skin. She wrapped her legs around Ben’s waist.
He fell forward, shock flashing across his face.
She didn’t give him time to register anything beyond that.
She hooked her ankles behind his back, locking him in as she knocked his flailing arm away then gripped the furry collar of his coat and hauled him into her. A puff of frozen mist escaped from his parted lips just before Cammie twisted her hips then flipped him under her. She straddled him in one fluid move, adrenaline warming her up, melting the ice that had invaded her body. Despite his initial shock, Ben tried to reach up to hold her back, but she forced his arm out of the way as she used her knee to hold his head down. Something crunched. It could have been his nose, but she didn’t care. Then she shifted back and to the side, taking his hand with her, yanking it into an arm bar that made the bone groan in her grip.
“Don’t move or I’ll break it.” Her breath came out in a whoosh.
“You can’t!” Ben whined. “Please, don’t!”
“I swear to you, Ben, that I can and I will.” She tugged again, a fraction of a movement away from snapping his bone.
“It hurts! Please stop!” The tears streaming down his cheeks gave off heat before they frozen to his skin. Blood pooled around his nose and mouth and quickly turned to frozen mush. “Please don’t, Cammie. I’ll tell you everything. I promise. Please!”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Cammie knew she had minutes before the cold seeped past the adrenaline rush and incapacitated her again.
“I had to put Frankie somewhere.” Ben’s teeth chattered, from fear or cold, Cammie didn’t know. Even though she knew she wasn’t delusional, there was a sense of validation to get confirmation that she had indeed found a dead man on her floor. “I put him in your room because I saw you leave the sunset mixer with Zane and figured I had time. I needed to wait for the shift change so I could bring him here.”
“Why did you kill him? Wasn’t he your friend?” Or at least his roommate? Was it possible that Ben wanted to be part of the event crew so badly that he’d murdered for it? Her gut rejected that idea though. Ben might be stupid, but he hadn’t come across as petty.
“I didn’t! I swear!” Ben cried. “Ms-s-s. B-B-Bolt did. S-she poisoned him!”
“Sherri?” Cammie was surprised enough to release her death grip somewhat and give Ben’s arm a rest.
“Yes, Sherri!” Ben gasped. “She did it because Frankie was stealing too much money and her dad told her to deal with him. She didn’t want to kill him—I know she didn’t—but you don’t say no to a man like Elm Stone—”
“Wait a minute.” Cammie let Ben’s arm go completely then straddled him again, pushing her weight down so his hips were pinned. “Elm Stone, Bill Haversmith’s buddy, is Sherri’s father?”
“Yes! That’s what I’m saying.” Ben tried to touch his nose now that his hands were free, but he was whimpering and shaking too much to actually do it. “He’s been cleaning money on the cruises, and Frankie was involved. Sherri said he was skimming off the top and took way too much, so her dad wanted him gone. I didn’t know!” Ben raised his hands as if to ward off a blow. “Sherri asked me to help her, and of course, stupid me, I jumped at the chance. When I went to her cabin, Frankie was already dead. Elm told me to take care of the body.”
“Jesus Christ, Ben, why didn’t you tell anyone?” Cammie shook her head. “You could have gotten help.”
“I’m a horrible person.” Ben broke down, his body shaking as he sobbed. “Sherri told me I could take over Frankie’s job. She said she’s made sure I was rewarded. She’s so incredible, and I thought… I thought she really cared about my future.”
He worshipped Sherri enough to be an accomplice to murder?
“And me? Did Elm tell you to kill me too?” Cammie leaned forward, bracing her forearm on Ben’s chest, putting pressure on his lungs.
“He was so mad that the Rohypnol didn’t work.” Ben tried to push her arm away, but she wasn’t going anywhere. Let him get a taste of being defenseless and at someone else’s mercy. “I gave it to him when you and Mr. Haversmith were off looking at something in the Burlesque Bar and told him to put the whole vial in, but he didn’t have time.”
Elm had been sitting across the table from her. He could have easily slipped something into her drink before she got back from her mini-excursion with Bill.
