Chapter 2

Boone yanked open the driver's door. Cold hit me. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out. I stumbled, boots slipping. The ice storm had glazed the plow into an amber-lit shell. Cody stood by the snowmobile, hands deep in his pockets, face white.

"Get in the trailer," Boone said. "Now."

"Boone-"

He twisted my arm. "Now."

I looked at Cody. He wouldn't meet my eyes. The snowmobile speaker was silent. Marnie had gone quiet, but my handheld was still on. I could feel the red light through my coat, steady as a heartbeat.

Boone marched me across the yard. The trailer windows glowed weak yellow. Inside, the kitchen smelled of burnt coffee and propane. He pushed me down onto the bench by the table. My belly cramped. I let out a breath.

"You stay here," he said. "You don't touch the radio. You don't go outside. I'm going to fix this."

"Fix it how?"

He leaned close. "I'm going to make sure the story's straight. Marnie's already got the log. By morning, everybody in Granite Notch will know you were the one driving that night."

"I wasn't."

"You will be." He took my keys from the hook by the door. He took the extra plow keys from the drawer. He took my boots.

"Boone, I'm pregnant. I need-"

"You need to shut up." He walked out. The door clicked. Not chained. Not yet.

I waited until his footsteps faded. Then I pulled the handheld from my coat.

"Marnie," I whispered. "You still there?"

Static. Then: "I'm here."

"You have the logger."

"I have the logger."

"The full thing?"

A pause. "The full loop. Six hours. It caught Boone in the cab that night. It caught me."

My hand shook. "Play it. Play all of it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not just him on there." Her voice dropped. "It's me. My voice. I'm the one who told him to take Notch Road. I'm the one who logged it as routine. If that recording goes out, I go to prison."

I closed my eyes. The trailer creaked in the wind. "He's going to blame me for Earlene. He's going to take my baby."

"I know."

"Then help me."

"I can't play it on an open channel. Company rules. The logger's locked to the base. I can transfer it, but not from here. Not while he's got you."

"Then call state police."

Another pause. "I can't do that either. Not yet."

"Not yet?"

"He'll hear it. He'll know it was me. You don't know what he's like when he's cornered."

"I do."

The door banged open. Boone filled the frame. Snow dusted his shoulders. He looked at me, at the handheld in my hand, and for a second, the whole room went still.

"What's that?" he said.

I shoved it under my thigh. "Cramp."

He stepped in. He grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand up. Nothing. I had already slid the handheld into the crack between the bench and the wall.

"Where is it?" he said.

"Where's what?"

He backhanded me. My head snapped sideways. The baby rolled. I tasted blood.

"I heard a radio," he said. "I heard Marnie."

"She's on the snowmobile. Cody had it."

"Cody's got the backup handheld. He said he didn't call her."

"Then maybe she called him."

Boone's eyes narrowed. He didn't believe me, but he was already late. The plow sat outside, idling. The road was icing. The county was closed. He needed to make his story stick before the state police got through.

"I'll deal with you later," he said. He grabbed his coat. The door slammed. I heard the lock turn. Then the plow engine roared.