15
BRODY
I barely slowed the horse before I jumped down. Laurel sat on the porch floor in the cold, her hair wild and half down from the pins, a gun held tightly in her hands and aimed at a body lying on the ground. Based on the blood beginning to pool around him, he wasn't getting up again. I dashed up the stairs, my footsteps loud and skidded to a stop in front of the man. I aimed my rifle at him as I nudged him with my foot, and then pushed him over onto his back.
Palmer. His eyes were open and staring fixed at the ceiling of the porch, a crimson stain of blood spreading across his white shirt. He was dead.
My heart pounded and my muscles were tense and ready to kill. I wanted to shoot him myself, to relieve some of this pent-up angst and fear. Swiveling, I dropped to my knees in fr
