“So I’ll be dead by the holidays, cabrón?”

He jerked out of her, scrambling from the bed to his feet, his dick bouncing. “Ana-Lucía! I can explain everything!” His accent shifted from British to Southern mid-sentence. He pulled on his pants, and I let him. “Please, calm down! And for goodness’ sake, put the pistol away.”

Lightning flared, matching my mood. I finally understood the phrase “seeing red.” I pointed my gun at the woman frozen on the bed. “Who the hell is she?”

Edward raised his palms. “Talk to me.” He didn’t like my attention on Julia? “She’s an old friend who was passing through town.” His blond brows drew together as he gazed longingly at me. “This didn’t mean anything. I just missed you so much, darling—I was momentarily weak. I was so stupid. But we can work this out. You are the one that I love.”

He was good.

Julia stood, wrapping a sheet around herself. She was tall and slender, with long sandy brown hair and porcelain skin. “May I get my clothes?”

Lightning flashed again. “No. You move closer to him. NOW, bitch.” I waved the gun, and she hurried to his side. Even in this situation, they somehow looked dignified together, a sterling couple.

I turned to Edward. “If you lie to me again, I will shoot you in your scrawny dick. How did you kill my mother?”

“What are you talking about! Have you lost your mind?” His green eyes appeared stunned, as if I’d sprung this information on him—out of nowhere. “Your mother died of natural causes. You know that.”

How could he be so believable? For the tiniest instant, I thought to myself, Well, I did know that. I shook my head. “Natural causes? Weren’t you going to make my death look natural?”

Edward was aghast. “You’re accusing me of murder? When I’ve never raised a hand to you? I’ve never even raised my voice. Everyone knows how much I adore you. All our friends talk about my devotion.”

In other words, if I cried, “Murder plot!” no one would believe me. “What’s in the case in that safety-deposit box?”

“Case? Now what are you going on about, darling? How did we go from my—admittedly stupid—screwup to murder?” There was that reasonable voice again.

How much had he been gaslighting me in the past? “I heard you two, cabrón. No one’s celebrating my murder in Aspen this year.”

Julia was unraveling. “I told you this one was trouble!”

I sneered to her, “With a capital fucking T, Julia.” Back to Edward. “How did you kill my mother? And what’s in the case?” I cocked the pistol, movie-style, and aimed it at his groin. “Try lying to me again.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You won’t shoot me. If you do, all your money—now my money—will go to my heir. You signed over everything to me a year ago.”

“Then you’re right. It doesn’t make sense to shoot you.” I turned the gun to Julia. “I should shoot her. She’d be your heir, no?”

“Ana-Lucía!” His breath left him, his voice scaling higher as he said, “Don’t hurt her. Please.”

The most shocking revelation of the night? This monster truly loved her.

“Don’t make me hurt her! Answer my questions.”

Staring down a gun barrel, Julia said, “I will answer them for you. We can talk about this. In the case, there’s a syringe. It was the last injection given to your mother. She was dying anyway, but we hastened it.”

My lips parted. Julia had confirmed murder.

She continued, “We targeted you for the land. Charles—Edward—knows how to break the trust.”

Shock muffled my thoughts, but I needed to stay sharp. What incentive did Julia have to admit these things? I gazed at them through watering eyes. The two were farther apart from each other. While she stalled, he’d been sneaking closer to his dresser!

He must have a gun in there. “Stop where you are, Edward.” Keeping the pistol trained on them, I sidled toward the dresser. “You got a gun? I’ll be taking it, as well as the key to that safety-deposit box.”

I pulled open the top drawer, taking my gaze off them for a split second—

Lightning blazed; he threw a lamp at me. Everything happened so fast.

I deflected with my arm. The old pistol went off. BOOM!

A dark spray arced across the room toward me, splattering my face and chest. Blood? From Julia’s throat??

Her hands clamped her neck to stem the spray, but it kept welling up in spurts. Her body collapsed.

Edward dropped to his knees beside her, frantically clutching the wound, as if trying to put the blood back in. Coated in crimson, he yelled over his shoulder, “What have you done?” Dimly I realized his accent had changed again. “You bitch! What have you DONE?”

Julia made ugly, wet sounds. Until she . . . didn’t.

Dead.

I just killed someone. I just killed someone. Six hours ago, I’d been hoping it would stop raining so the race wouldn’t get canceled. I am covered in someone else’s blood. It dripped from my jawline and fingertips, from the gun. I had to swipe my sleeve over my eyes.

He howled with grief, rocking her head in his lap, sobbing. “She was everything to me! She was my LIFE! You KILLED her!”

Edward had already been prepared to take me down for one crime. Now he would see to it that I fried for two murders.