Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
B rock lost his mind. He flew off his sled and ran full bore toward Ophelia. He could see and smell the blood already. Christian ran on his heels.
Snow burst in every direction as Damian landed the helicopter too close to the river, jumping out before the propellers had stopped. Ace slid his truck to a dangerous stop, nearly hitting Brock’s snowmobile.
Brock noticed all the action of his family around him, but his gaze focused fully on his woman.
She rolled off Monica and came up to her feet, clutching her upper arm.
Monica lay on the ground, out cold. Blood covered her face. Monica? What the hell?
Brock reached Ophelia and pulled her close with her sweater, running his gaze over her form. “How bad?”
“Don’t know,” she gasped. “My arm is on fire, and I can’t feel my toes.”
He plucked her off the ground, holding her close to his chest while protecting her injury. “Ace? Call Doc. We’re on the way.” He tucked his head over hers to protect her from the snow. “I heard another shot.”
“Went wide,” she gasped, her face pinched with pain.
Ace hauled Monica to her feet. The woman was regaining consciousness and swayed against him. She blinked and stared at Brock. “I love you. This is all for you.”
He wanted to puke. This entire situation boiled down to a one night stand he barely remembered? “You’ll have to find somebody else in prison, Monica.” While she obviously had mental problems and probably needed compassion, he wanted to toss her ass into the river and say goodbye. He’d had no idea she had this bizarre obsession with him.
Ophelia lifted her head from his chest. “She killed Tammy. Got confused about you and Ace.”
Ace jerked and paled. “Monica?” He yanked her around. “You murdered Tammy?”
Monica wiped blood from her broken nose off her cheeks. Olly gave her quite the punch. “I thought Tammy slept with Brock that night. Didn’t know that you and Tammy had a thing together until I heard the gossip a week later. Way too late.”
Christian’s expletive lit the day.
Brock didn’t have time for this. “Take her to the hospital for an examination and then to the jail.” He turned and strode through the storm to place Ophelia into the front seat of Ace’s truck, making sure the heat blasted on her. Then he jogged around and stretched inside, flipping the vehicle the other direction to head back into town.
“How did you find me?” Ophelia asked.
“Ace found David’s rig, and then Damian spotted you from the air. We thought David had you. Christian and I had already started searching the river road.” He had so much to say, but he didn’t have a lot of words. Still, he’d almost lost her, and right now, she sat safely ensconced in his truck. “You’re it for me, Ophelia.”
She jolted, her hand still applying pressure to her wounded arm. “Brock.”
“I know. It’s quick and crazy, but most of my life has been. I learned very early on that moments are short and you have to take the good when they come. Also, you never know what’s happening next. I don’t have time for games or to gently ease into feelings. I have them, you have them, and I’m not waiting around to make sure.”
She chuckled, but the sound held pain. “What are you saying?”
“Stay with me. Move in for good.” He didn’t want to push her too far or too fast. His girl seemed a little skittish sometimes. “We’ll court, date, hang out…whatever you want. But there’s a ring at the end of all that, as well as forever.” That might’ve been pushing it, but he’d never again hold anything back from her and would always give her honesty.
She swallowed. Her body shook—no doubt from shock. “Brock?—”
“Just think about it. Right now isn’t the time for you to make a decision like that.” He didn’t like the pallor of her pale face, so he pressed his foot harder on the gas. The vehicle fishtailed, but he easily brought the truck under control. “Take some deep breaths, sweetheart. You’re going into shock. The heat will help.” He turned down the main road and drove quicker since it had been plowed. The truck skidded into a parking spot outside the small hospital. “Don’t move.” She’d already tried for the door.
He leaped out and moved around the truck in seconds, gently lifting her from her seat. “I’ve got you.” He intended to keep her, but he’d probably hit her with enough for now.
Doc waited with a stretcher, looking professional in pink scrubs with her gaze steady. “How bad?”
“Upper arm shot,” Brock said, laying Ophelia down and helping roll her into an operating room that had already been set up and ready to go. He nodded at the anesthesiologist and surgical nurse. Their only ones, retired transplants from the lower forty-eight who just helped out when necessary.
Doc started cutting off Ophelia’s top. “Out, Brock.”
“No.” He planted himself at the door.
Doc looked up, her gaze firm. “Get out. Now.”
He blinked. Well, okay. Frowning at her, he turned on his heel and strode out of the operating room to find his brothers already in the waiting room.
Ace shook snow from his hair. “Monica is in the second examination room. I used a zip tie, so she’s attached to the bed and can’t leave. The other nurse is in there with her.” He coughed. “I could stand guard but didn’t want to be anywhere near her.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Damian said, leaning against the wall. “There’s nowhere to go, anyway.”
“True,” Brock mused. “I’ll go arrest her officially now.” Guess he’d keep the sheriff job.
Christian remained near the door. “How is Olly?”
“Good. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to be planning a wedding this coming summer.” Brock grinned. Then he sobered. “After I arrest Monica, we need to head out to Leo’s with the news.”
Christian’s eyes flared. “Agreed. What a senseless death. Poor Tammy.”
“Agreed. Then we need to have a family talk.” Brock kept his voice firm. “The time for secrets is over.”
His brothers all nodded.
“Good.” Brock looked over his shoulder at the operating room. He hadn’t prayed in a long time. A very long time. But he said a silent prayer right now. Ophelia had to be all right.
She filled his entire future.
Just after supper, Ophelia settled into the comfortable lounge chair in Flossy’s living room. The fire roared hot and toasty, the blanket on her legs felt soft, and the painkillers worked nicely in her system.
Flossy’s gnarled hands moved rapidly as she quilted. She sat on the floral chair closest to the fire. “You came out of surgery mere hours ago, Olly. You should probably be in the hospital.”
“Hospitals make me edgy.” Ophelia looked at the fire with its deep orange coals. “Doc says I’m fine—or will be.”
Flossy’s gray hair was up in curlers, and she looked adorable. “I’m sorry that crazy Monica shot you. She’s Janet’s niece but has never been very nice. Poor Janet and Gus. I’m so sorry about this.”
Right now, the world felt so mellow that Ophelia didn’t mind. “The bullet went right through my arm, and I only needed stitches. Doc didn’t even have to put me out to do it, so I didn’t really have surgery.” Thank goodness Monica had been a crappy shot. “I’d rather be here in the warm house with you.” Brock had left her with Flossy while he went out and notified Leo about Tammy’s killer. David had shown up at the hospital and Brock had told him everything about his fiancée. Poor guy.
“You’re so strong.” Flossy smiled. “A gazelle with muscles. I’m not sure about that. I may need another animal for you.”
How fun. An animal for her. Ophelia smiled. She wished Brock would hurry up and return, though. He’d been at least a couple of hours, and darkness had fallen outside. Flossy had made a dinner of warm sandwiches, and now Ophelia just wanted to sleep. But she wouldn’t rest until Brock returned.
The firelight played off Flossy’s papery-thin skin. “Congratulations on getting your job back.”
“Thank you.” The idea didn’t please Ophelia as much as she’d thought it would. Once she’d reported to her boss in DC about Tammy’s murder, he’d reinstated her special assignment status. She’d called him right after Doc had stitched her up, and he still wouldn’t tell her who’d gotten to him earlier. “I have several new open investigations that should arrive in my inbox this week, and I am bound and determined to identify that victim I saw by the river wearing the EVE embroidered jacket.”
Flossy wrinkled her nose. “Disappearing bodies just creep me out.” She kicked out her feet. “But I’m glad you have another reason to stay in town for the winter. And maybe beyond.” She winked.
Heat climbed into Ophelia’s face. “Maybe beyond.” She looked out at the stormy night.
Flossy paused in her knitting. “Where is Monica? If Brock is out notifying everyone about her duplicity, surely she’s not alone at the station.”
Ophelia’s arm started to tingle. “She’s in a jail cell being guarded by one of the Miller kids. Brock deputized him. All he has to do is make sure she doesn’t escape, and based on her fiancé’s reaction to the situation, she wouldn’t have help, anyway.” After hearing the news, David had immediately requested his engagement ring back.
Flossy snorted. “Poor David. We’re second cousins, you know. He deserves so much better.” She reached for her teacup on the table. “Would you like more tea?” The fragrant peppermint brew filled the air with wintery scents.
Ophelia shook her head and looked at the clock. She shifted her weight, careful to leave her bandaged arm elevated on the throw pillow. She wasn’t much on girl talk, but she trusted Flossy. “Brock’s getting serious about us, even though it’s crazy. We just met.”
“Ha. You two have tossed in an entire year of dating into one week. Just think what you’ve gone through.” Flossy’s eyes gleamed with the gossip. “I am so glad to hear that he’s smart enough to want to take a chance with you. He’s a sweet boy and has been alone long enough. I always knew he’d fall hard and fast. Those Osprey men are all alike.”
Ophelia rubbed her eyes with her good hand. “I care about him, as well, and I’d like to take a chance. But we have issues already, and we’re just getting started.” But he made her laugh, and she liked his intelligence. She loved his hard body. Even his stubborn and way-too-overprotective nature appealed to a woman who’d always been alone. She sighed.
Flossy waved her hand as if ridding the air of silliness. “Issues? Come on. What issues?”
Ophelia’s phone dinged, and she lifted it to her ear. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Brock sounded like he was far away. Too far away. “I just arrived back at the station, but am still surprised we both have cell service—must be fate. How’s your arm?”
How sweet that he asked about her while freezing his butt off riding to and now from Leo’s place out in the mountains. She warmed right through. “I’m fine. Flossy is taking very good care of me.” She sobered. “How’s Leo?”
“Not great. I’ll be up to get you in about an hour. Since your shooter is now under lock and key, I’m not worried about you. Well, that much.” His voice dropped to a low and intimate rumble through the phone line. “Then I’ll properly baby you at home.”
“At home.” The words held a punch as she ended the call. She placed the phone next to her tea. “He should be here in a bit.”
Flossy kept quilting. “You were telling me about issues between you and the sheriff.”
Oh, yeah. “My job. His job. Hank’s murder.” Ophelia settled back and winced when her arm protested. The darn painkillers didn’t last long enough. “I don’t know if we can ever get past that.” In fact, it looked like Ace might be the shooter. How would Brock feel if she arrested his brother? How in the world could they get beyond that?
“There is no way Brock Osprey shot Hank,” Flossy said.
“I agree.” Ophelia sipped her tea, letting the warmth heat her tingling fingers. “But I think one of his brothers did, and I’ll have to arrest them.”
Flossy paused, looking up through her bottle-thick glasses. “Oh. I didn’t think of that.”
Ophelia’s heart sank. “Right? It’s a horrible situation.”
Flossy finished her tea and stood. “We need more tea so we can figure this out. There is a solution. I’m sure of it.” She ambled to her feet and placed her squares on Ophelia’s lap. “Check out the stitching. Once your arm heals, you can do that. I know you can.” She bustled away and into the kitchen.
Ophelia studied the stitching. It would take her years to get that exact. She held up several squares with her good hand. Flossy had so much talent. One of the squares caught Ophelia’s eye.
Her heart rate kicked into gear.
The square showed a moose. A proud, powerful, somehow stubborn-looking moose. Memories flickered through her muddled brain. Why was her body reacting? Then it hit her.
The hat Hank had been wearing during that fishing derby with the shape Ophelia hadn’t been able to recognize. The hat had a moose embroidered on it. A huge moose just like this one.
Flossy used animals for people in her quilts. An owl for her deceased husband, a vulture for Monica, an eagle for Brock…and a moose for Hank?
Ophelia started to move from the chair.
Flossy returned from the kitchen with her teapot in one hand and a shotgun in the other.
“Flossy,” Ophelia breathed, sinking back down. “The moose represents Hank? You wanted me to see this.”
“I did. I’m tired of secrets.” Flossy placed the teapot on the table. “Hank and I courted for quite a few years, but we kept our love to ourselves. Both private people, I guess. We even met at the Tundra Complex when I had boarders and he had one of the boys home.” Tears filled her faded eyes behind the thick glasses. “He was in so much pain from the cancer. Yet as a religious man, he couldn’t do it himself. He asked me, and I said yes.”
Ophelia couldn’t move. “But?—”
“I killed Hank, Olly. It was me.” Flossy looked down at the weapon. “With this shotgun.”