Tempting Evil by Allison Brennan

do.” Stan turned and Jo saw the gun in his waistband in the small of his back.
    “Stan—”
    Stan hated guns. He’d served two tours of duty in Vietnam and had been a strung out drug addict and alcoholic when he panhandled Karl Weber in Bozeman thirty years ago. Karl had been guest lecturing at the university for a week, and when he returned he brought Stan with him.
    Jo had been seven or so at the time, and all she remembered about Stan was that he’d been big, black, and very sad.
    Now he was part of their family. She couldn’t imagine him not being in her life. She didn’t know everything about his history before he moved to the valley to be Karl Weber’s right-hand man, but she knew he detested firearms and never carried when he went out. Bear spray was his weapon of choice.
    She touched his arm. “Everything is going to be okay, Stan.”
    “I’d feel a lot better if you had someone with you. I’ll go if you don’t want a stranger.”
    She shook her head. Stan had been having heart trouble for the last few years. He was on medication, and she didn’t want him overdoing it.
    “I’ll take John, okay?”
    “Thank you. I’ll feel better when the Sheriff gets here.”
    Me, too.
    Ten minutes later, Jo had on her snowsuit and favorite boots. She wasn’t keen on taking John Miller with her, but she didn’t want Stan to worry. She met John on the deck. He looked into the distance, toward where you could see Upper Red Rock Lake—if the visibility were better. Now, all that was in front of them was a quiet pale gray mist.
    “Ready?” she asked, feigning cheerfulness.
    She led John outside to the snowmobile shed. The temperature was still in the low twenties, but so far this morning the snow was holding off and visibility wasn’t half bad. “Have you ridden one of these before?”
    “It’s been a long time,” he said. She appreciated his honesty.
    “It’s like riding a bike,” she said. She gave him a quick rundown on the controls.
    “It’s coming back to me,” he said. “Are you going to all the cabins?” he asked as they started out.
    “No, just the two we have occupied. We offered to move them to the lodge yesterday morning, but they wanted the privacy. Each cabin is fully self-sufficient. It can be peaceful.”
    The honeymooners were about two hundred yards directly west of the lodge. It was the best cabin on the property, with a fantastic view of the valley and a small private deck. The college couple was about three hundred feet south of the honeymooners, as you start up the mountain—easy to get to on a well-worn trail, but more difficult in this weather.
    “Why don’t we split up?” Jo suggested. The snow had started trickling down, and it could worsen quickly. She’d hoped it would hold off until that afternoon, and now all she wanted was to leave as soon as possible to bring the scouts back before the weather made it impossible.
    “I’ll take that cabin,” she said, pointing to where the MSU kids were, “you head for the Trotskys. Greg and Vicky. Just hand them the basket, ask if they need anything, make sure they have enough wood.”
    John seemed undecided, so Jo said, “Or we can do it together. It’s just the weather is turning and I want to get back quickly.”
    “Where are you going?”
    “Do you see that cabin?” She pointed to the barely visible cabin among the trees. “Two college kids from MSU are up there. I’m going to walk up, but you can take your snowmobile all the way down to the Trotskys’s cabin. Just follow that tree line—it’s marked—and you’ll be fine.”
    “Okay. Thanks, Joanna.”
    Aaron watched Joanna put on snowshoes, then turned his snowmobile toward the cabin downslope. Greg and Vicky Trotsky. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Joanna walking up the snow-covered mountain trail, visible only because of her bright red jacket.
    Aaron wasn’t exactly sure which cabin Doug was in, but it definitely hadn’t been occupied, and it seemed to