CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

The gun exploded in Sotheara’s hand and jerked back violently, nearly hitting her in the face. The shot echoed through the narrow valley as though repeating her sin over and over. She dropped the gun and grasped her wrist.

What have I done? Sotheara couldn’t shoot an arrow at a fake deer in a stupid camp challenge, and now she’d shot a human being? So much for principles.

Berdie overcame her nausea the instant the shot was fired, grabbed the gun, and crouched behind the barrels.

“You missed.”

“Oh thank God!” Sotheara trembled with a sickening combination of relief and fear.

“Are you kidding?” Berdie asked. “If he kills us, he’ll cook us both in a stew and feed us to the next round of campers.”

Not the vegetarians, Sotheara wanted to say, but she was having trouble keeping the bile down. Better to not open her mouth.

Another shot exploded across the valley, from Bud’s gun this time. Sotheara screamed when the bullet thunked into the barrel she hoped would protect her.

“He gets much closer,” Berdie said, “those shots will pierce right through these plastic barrels. And whatever muck is inside.”

Without warning, Berdie pulled her trigger. Above the sound of the shot, Sotheara heard a shout.

“I winged him,” Berdie said. “Let’s hope that slows him down.”

“I didn’t sign up for this. Not some crazy Wild West shootout at the OK corral.”

“You can thank me later for saving your life.”

Berdie scowled as she peered over the top of the barrel, the gun gripped firmly in her hand. Age might classify her as a little old lady, but there was nothing frail about her. If anyone could get them out of this mess, it was Berdie.

“I’m sorry,” Sotheara said. “I do appreciate what you’re doing.”

“He’s leaving,” Berdie said.

Sotheara stood. Bud grasped his right bicep with his left hand. He retreated down the trail back to camp.

The rope bridge swayed. Aubrey gripped the railing with one hand. The rope burn didn’t hurt as much now. Her whole body had gone numb with cold and fear. The safe course of action might be to keep her mouth shut and focus on getting Candace across the bridge. But then she would never learn the answers to a dozen questions.

“When Jack dropped his bomb about the plant closing, that wasn’t the first you learned about it. Grant and I overheard your conversation with Doug in the museum. You must be really upset, especially after Bender promised you a new position.”

“What is it with you, Aubrey? Sneaking and spying. You’ve got it all figured out.”

That was the second time she’d used that phrase. Candace obviously thought Aubrey knew more than she did, because there were enough loose ends to knit an afghan. Maybe if Aubrey kept her talking, Candace would spill the rest of the story.

“You bet your future on Bender’s lies, but really, that’s no one’s fault but your own.”

Aubrey tried to watch Candace’s face, not the water rushing beneath the bridge.

Candace shook her head. “That doesn’t matter now. I’ve taken care of Mr. Jack-lying-bastard-Bender.”

“The pills? Those weren’t his medicine, were they? You poisoned him!”

“Lavelle’s bag of goodies had pills of every size, shape, and color. Even some that looked like his heart medicine. A sad case of a medication mix-up.”

Aubrey tried to duck out of Candace’s grip, but the woman tightened her hold. Fighting on the bridge was not a good idea. Thunder Falls roared just downstream. Aubrey couldn’t see the safety net. Was it only strung across the river during challenges?

“Why switch his pills?” Aubrey asked. “With Bender dead, you lose everything.”

“Jack keeps a lot of cash in our little hideaway, and I’ve got the key.”

“Are you sure that’s secure?” Aubrey asked. “Some other woman might get to it before you leave camp.”

“There is no other woman. Of that, I am certain.”

They were half way across the bridge. On the far side was a bus, safety, and the police.

“At the museum, Grant and I saw Jack make a pass at Veronica. He told her he’d make sure she won the competition if she did him a favor. I’m guessing you know what he meant by that. Veronica turned him down, so there must be some other woman planning to share the Caribbean condo with Bender.”

“You’re lying.”

“Doug saw the contract.”

Candace released her grip on Aubrey and stood solidly on both feet. So much for her sprained ankle.

“No one’s going to stop me from getting what I’m owed.”

“Not even Stewart? You killed him because he was going to show Bender the photos of you with Rowdy. Considering how things are ending now, that was a waste, wasn’t it?”

Candace’s lower lip quivered. Aubrey wasn’t sure whether she was going to break down and cry, or fly into a rage.

“I didn’t kill Stewart.”

Aubrey had seen an empty shopping bag from the Glenn Honey Farm in Candace’s wastebasket, which surely implicated her in murder by honeybee. Then again, Aubrey had watched Bender pick up the injector from her hiding place under the bed in Nel and Stewart’s room. The way he quietly pocketed it. Candace sounded sincere, but how sincere could a killer be?

Grant appeared at the far end of the bridge. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted to be heard over the roaring of Thunder Falls.

“We’ve got hot coffee and a warm bus waiting for you!”

Candace didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Maybe she understood, despite her bravado, that a whole lot of trouble waited for her at the end of the bridge.

“That ambulance will get Bender to the hospital in time, and they’ll put him on the right medication. If you tell me what really happened, I can tell the police—”

“You have to believe me, Aubrey. I did not kill Stewart.”

She had just admitted to trying to kill Jack. Maybe she was telling the truth.

“Hurry up,” Grant yelled.

Madison appeared behind him, waving her arms as though her encouraging motions could pull Aubrey more quickly to land. If only. Aubrey tried to push her way around Candace on the narrow, swaying bridge. Candace gripped the rope railings and forced her back a step.

“Why does everyone else get what they want?” Candace’s face twisted. “Why can’t I get one simple thing for myself?”

“Seems to me you got everything you wanted. You just wanted the wrong things.”

“Mrs. Bender owns the factory.” Candace shook her head. “I never saw that coming. I put up with a lot from that drunken bastard. I even kept my mouth shut when he murdered Stewart.”

“Jack killed Stewart?” That scenario had not occurred to Aubrey, but it made sense. He pocketed the epinephrine injector, not to protect someone else, but to cover his own crime. “Why?”

Candace took another step toward Aubrey, forcing her back. Aubrey was going the wrong way—away from rescue, hot coffee, and her husband.

“I didn’t know why he wanted a jar full of honeybees. That wasn’t my fault.”

Aubrey suspected the “I was only following orders” defense wouldn’t go over well in a court of law.

“Stewart was stupid enough to blackmail Bender over missing barrels of chemicals. He should have known better than to try to outfox a fox.”

Shock rolled over Aubrey, chilling her deeper than the spraying river water. Candace had been in the Olde Tyme Photography shop when Stockton’s Revenge dropped off Stewart’s film.

“You stole the photos we had developed! You didn’t take them because of a photo of you with Rowdy, but because there were shots of a toxic dump site?”

“I tried to warn you that sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong would get you hurt.” Candace took another menacing step, forcing Aubrey backward.

“Grant and Madison are watching. Don’t do anything—” Aubrey began to say “crazy,” but stopped herself.

“You fell off the bridge once,” Candace said. “You have a history of catastrophe.”

Aubrey backed up another foot. If she couldn’t reach Grant, she would have to take her chances on the other side of the bridge. She turned, but before she could escape, Candace grabbed the sleeve of her windbreaker. She gripped fabric, not Aubrey’s arm.

“I believe you didn’t kill Stewart. I’ll tell the police you’re innocent.”

“You’re not talking to anyone.”

Aubrey jerked her zipper down, hoping to wriggle out of Candace’s grasp by shrugging off the jacket. The struggle threw her off balance. Her feet slipped, and she landed hard on the wet planks. Candace fell, dragged down by her relentless grip on Aubrey’s empty jacket sleeve. Her legs slid off the bridge, into the rushing water.

Now was her chance. Aubrey could slip the rest of the way out of the jacket, releasing Candace’s hold. But the sleeve was the only thing keeping the woman from plunging over the falls. Aubrey willed her numb fingers to clamp tight onto Candace’s lifeline.

“Hang on,” Grant yelled. “I’m coming!”

The sleeve tore at the shoulder. Aubrey grabbed for the damp fabric, desperate to keep her hold. As Grant ran onto the bridge, Aubrey clutched the sleeve, the muscles in her arms burning. Candace pawed wildly at empty space with one hand, but the other held firm to the jacket sleeve.

Tears blurred Aubrey’s vision as she struggled past the pain to hang on. The river tore at Candace. The sleeve slid through Aubrey’s hands.

Grant’s arms wrapped around Aubrey from behind. Candace clawed the bridge, snapping off fingernails and scarring the damp, slick boards.

“Let go,” Grant yelled. “She’s got hold of the bridge. Let go or you’ll be pulled in.”

Aubrey sobbed with frustration and exhaustion.

“Candace!”

Aubrey’s wrist went numb. She couldn’t keep her fingers clasped on the torn jacket sleeve. The wet material slipped from her hand. With the release of Candace’s weight, Grant pulled Aubrey securely onto the bridge.

Grant scrambled on hands and knees. Aubrey’s heart caught in her throat as he leaned out, reaching for Candace. The jacket waved in her free hand. Grant snagged it and pulled. Candace released her tenuous grip on the bridge and clutched the sleeve with both hands. Grant sat back, trying to reel her in. A tree branch rushed under the bridge and smacked into Candace. She lost her grip with one hand, and for an instant her eyes met Aubrey’s. Then the fight seemed to drain out of her.

She let go.