As soon as we get back inside of the house, Kelsea and I excuse ourselves upstairs, claiming to be exhausted.

The detectives head back into the kitchen to join Dallas where he still sits on the same counter, talking quietly with the two of them.

We try not to be suspicious as we head quickly up the stairs and close and lock the door behind us, meeting each other in the corner of the bedroom.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Kelsea whispers. "What the actual fuck?"

My head is pounding with fear and frustration and confusion.

"I don't know." I whisper back, huddling close to her.

"The truck." She says, eyes bugging. "That cop was driving the truck."

Officer Gillians.

Frank.

The boy who spent countless weekends here in this house with us. Pretending to be our friend.

The one who has had it out for me since the second I came back.

My ears are ringing in my skull.

"Aries said someone planted that necklace on him." I bite at my lip to keep my teeth from clattering.

"Dude." She says again. "What if...no, it's too crazy, right? Like, no."

But I'm thinking the exact same thing.

"Kels, the police have access to everything." I whisper to her. "He was there with them, they really could have put it in his pocket."

"And all this evidence they have of him at the scene?" Kelsea replies. "You don't think...You don't think they're so dead set on convicting Aries because..."

"Because they're protecting one of their own." I finish for her, absolutely shaking at the thought. "Kels, Gillians has access and the ability to have messed with the evidence."

"Oh my god." She says. "What if he's the one messing with everything because he's the one who is doing it?"

"He can't be." I try to say, but what proof do I have? All of the evidence points directly at Aries, but I know he wasn't the one driving that truck. There is proof of it. Crystal clear, right there in all of the videos.

Gillians has the truck.

He's still driving it around.

He's not even remotely worried about getting caught, because who is the world going to believe? The officer or the man with piles of evidence connecting him to the murders.

"What do we...what do we do?" Kelsea's voice shakes with fear. She already knew she was wrapped up in this sick game with me, and now the players just got that much more terrifying.

A tear slides out of the corner of my eye. "I can't tell them." I say suddenly remembering the information I was so ready to hand over. "I'd lead them straight to him."

"Do you think Davenport knows?" She asks and I shutter again.

"He was right there with him." I shake my head. "He has to know. He has to."

"What about Mayfield?" She lowers her voice, eyes constantly sliding to the door.

I squeeze my head between my hands. "I don't know." I say. "I don't know who to trust now. I don't know who may or may not know about Gillians and his truck. The whole fucking police station has to know, or at least...I don't know. God, I don't know."

Kelsea pulls me in and we hold each other, both internally freaking out while trying to comfort the other.

"We need to talk to Dallas." She says and I pull back.

"Kels, he hates Aries." I say. "He's not going to want to believe it wasn't him. He's so dead set on believing he's right. Fuck, maybe I am too. But Frank was his friend. He's not going to want to switch the blame from Aries to him. I don't know that he wouldn't tell if he knew what I'm going to do."

Kelsea looks down at me, tilting her head. "What are you going to do?" She asks warily but I can tell by the look on her face that she already knows.

"I have to go there." I say, trying not to picture it. "I've got to talk to Aries myself. I've got to give him a chance to explain his side. What if he really is getting railroaded? I have to warn him."

"But what if he's not?" She fires back too loudly, then lowers her voice again. "What if the person he's working with is Gillians and you go there and tell him you're onto their whole scheme and then he..."

Then he kills me.

Like he still might have killed those girls.

But it doesn't make sense anymore.

Not that it ever did.

But if Aries was working with Gillians, it would be too dangerous for him to be gunning for Aries so hard now. Aries would have information to take them both down.

Either scenario, Aries is in trouble.

Either Aries really is the killer, and they're gunning for him while I sit back knowing exactly where he is.

Or Aries is working with Gillians and now Gillians is going to want him silenced for good while the detectives try their best to cover up the truth.

Or...

Or Aries is entirely innocent and is about to be framed for murders he didn't commit.

"I don't have a choice here." I tell Kelsea, tying not to see the worry etched into her face. "I've got to find out the truth before something bad happens."

"And what if something bad happens to you?" She demands. "Have you even thought of that?"

"Of course." I sigh, looking away. "If it does, then the truth still comes out."

"You're insane." She tells me. "You can't just gamble your life like that, Missy."

"It's not that simple." I try to explain. I hear her and I get what she's saying but I have to disagree. "It's not just my life, Kels. It's Aries, and every person in this town if the wrong person goes to prison while the killer walks. I've got to talk to him."

She takes a few deep breaths, running her hand over her braids trying to calm herself. "I'm trying to see it like that, I am, but it's too much. You can't expect to solve this alone."

"Who am I supposed to trust then?" I point out and she opens her mouth but says nothing. "I really don't know what else to do. We can't just take it to the cops. I don't know if it'll get back to the wrong people. What if they try to turn it back on me if I start making a mess of things?"

"More of a mess than getting yourself killed?"

"I don't think that will happen." I whisper, reaching out to take her hand but she draws back. "Please, Kels, I'm gonna need your help."

"There is no way you're going to be able to sneak out of here, Missy. Even if you do, then what? It's a blizzard out there. You think you're just going to drive there?"

I can feel her frustration with me and I understand it, but I've got to do this. I can't think of another way. He won't trust me to talk over the phone even if I did call him from another number or something. His phone is off anyway. Too much time will pass if I just try to sit around and wait for him to turn it back on.

There is only so many places around here to search and it's only a matter of time before someone else thinks to check there.

"I have to go." I tell her, pleading for her understanding. "I need to do it now."

Her eyes go wide again. "Wait, like now now?"

"Now." I nod, glancing towards the window. "Before it gets worse."

"Missy, you'll never get out of here." She says again. "There is patrols-."

"They left." I tell her. I'd already made sure of that on the drive back home. The patrols that were parked at the road to keep out the media were packing up to leave when we pulled in. With the storm they aren't worried about keeping anyone off of the property tonight. Especially with Mayfield and Davenport here with us. "I just need to get out of the house without Dallas and the detectives noticing."

"Girl, how?"

I let out a long breath. "Are my keys still by the front door?"

"Yeah on the hook in the hallway." She nods reluctantly.

"Ok." I say, letting the plan form in my mind. "Go downstairs and get them to come into the kitchen with you. Dallas too. Distract them for a minute so I can slip into the hallways and out the front."

"Missy..."

"Play some music or something too." I add. "Bring up the games again or something. Just long enough for me to get out."

"And when they ask about you?" She crosses her arms over her chest.

"Tell them I went to bed early." I tell her quickly. "Say I'm stressed out over everything and wanted to be alone. Anything."

"And what do you expect me to do if something comes up and they need you?" She counters. "What do I say then? Huh?"

"Let's worry about that if it happens." I sigh because I don't have a plan for that.

"And if you just straight up don't come back?" She asks and I give her a look. "Just worry about that then too?"

"I have to." I tell her again. "Please."

"Whatever." She says under her breath and I know she's angry but I don't have better ideas at the moment and I've got to capitalize on the one I do have.

I step quietly into the closet and drag out the bag of clothes we'd brought from her place and change.

Thick black jeans, a wool sweater, scarf, hat, gloves, the thickest socks I can find, my boots and my heavy parka.

At least if I do die tonight, it won't be because I'm cold.

"Take my phone." She says, slipping it into my pocket. "You can't just go without anything. Promise you'll call the cops if things go south?"

"I swear to you."

She doesn't say anything else before she turns and heads for the door.

I give her a head start.

I wait at the top of the stairs and listen.

"Anything exciting happen while we were gone?" I hear her ask.

"Not a damn thing." Dallas replies.

Good. He's still in the kitchen.

"How about that game?" She ask, the confidence in her voice sounding forced even from here.

"You're still on that?" Dallas groans, but I hear footsteps.

"I brought in a pack of cards from my car." I hear Mayfield respond. "You know how to play poker?"

"Of course." She fakes a small laugh and I creep down a few stairs as I hear the chairs at the kitchen table being pulled out. "You coming Detective Davenport?" She asks loudly.

I wait, holding my breath for a reply.

A slam of a laptop.

"Hell, why not?" He says and I listen to the sounds of him coming into the kitchen and wait until I hear him pull out a chair as well. "Missy gonna join?"

I creep silently down a few more stairs, just above the bottom.

"Dealing with all of that courthouse drama on top of everything else took it out of her." Kelsea tells them. "I got her settled in bed. Honestly doubt she's gonna come back down tonight but if she does, we will teach her to play."

"Missy knows how to play poker." Dallas replies and I take the chance.

I peek around the wall and see that everyone is focused on Kelsea where she is dealing the cards onto the table and I dart around the corner.

I freeze in the hallway, listening to make sure no one heard me.

"Knew I loved that girl." Kelsea laughs. "Come on, Dallas, I'll deal you in." She tells him. "It's only two steps this way."

He huffs about it but he hops off of the counter and his heavy footfalls move to join them at the table.

"One game." He says. "I'm exhausted."

"We need some music." Kelsea says and I hear her as she stalls.

Shit.

I have her phone.

A few seconds tick by before graciously Davenport laughs. "Alright, but only if I can play country."

"Dealers choice." Kelsea recovers.

I wait until the music starts, a banjo heavy blue grass playing through his phone speakers.

I take each step up the hallway with calculated patience. One foot tenderly in front of the other until I'm at the front door.

With both gloved hands I reach out to cradle the keys hanging from the hook on the wall, lifting them off, trying my best to keep them from clinking together.

I hug the freed keys to my chest with one hand while I quietly creep the door open with the other.

The cold hits me like a truck as soon as I step out onto the porch but I ignore it. I'm too close to let the weather stop me now.

I close the door behind me, then step carefully down the front steps, avoiding the creaky one before I break into my best attempt at a run across the thickly snowed over yard to my car.

I have to yank on the door handle multiple times before the ice gives way and I can slide into the front seat.

I don't dare cut on the lights as I turn the key with excruciating slowness. The sound of the engine starting might as well be a siren blasting out the alert that I'm escaping but I can only fucking hope the music inside is loud enough to drown me out.

I can't see for shit as I back my car up, carefully turning around in the yard and using muscle memory to weave my way over to the driveway.

I wait for as long as I can before I flick on the headlights and the constant badgering of snow illuminates ahead of me, making it look like I'm driving through a spiraling vortex.

"It's fine." I chant to myself. "It's gonna be fine. You can do this."

I death grip the steering wheel with both hands, hunched up close to it like that will help me be able to see better.

I'm only at the turn out of the driveway when my car, not prepped for this kind of inclement weather, sputters and spins it's tires in the black ice.

"Come on!" I readjust, maneuvering the car out into the road that I can hardly even make out.

This might be the worst idea I've ever had.

And I've had a lot.

Despite what horrors may await me at that God forsaken house, it may not matter if I can't even get there.

I put my windshield wipers on at full blast and just pray to whatever God might be listening, that I at least make it there in one piece.