“I know you,” Skyler said, staring at me. “You were looking for a Conti for your boyfriend.”

Fiancé, but whatever. If he thought Ryan was my boyfriend, maybe that would play to our advantage. Wasn’t sure how, but there was always that possibility.

“You,” Skyler said, nodding at me. “Get his cell phone out of his pocket.”

“Sorry,” Ryan muttered.

I wasn’t sure why he was apologizing. He was the one who had a gun to his head. “What pocket?” I asked him, pleased that my voice didn’t sound like I was terrified. “For the cell phone?”

“Left front.”

I pulled out the solid rectangle and showed it to Skyler. “Burner phone,” he said. “Smart. But not smart enough.” He grabbed the phone from me and threw hard. It landed in the lake with a quiet plop.

“The recording is gone,” Ryan said in a whispery voice. “No reason to keep Minnie here. Just let her go.”

I glared at him. As if I’d run away and let Skyler do . . . whatever.

“Don’t think that’s going to happen,” Skyler said thoughtfully. “Seems to me the best thing is to get rid of you both. Cleans up all sorts of loose ends.”

No way was he going to get away with a double murder. Triple, counting Pug, which I did. The man had serious mental problems. Which was obvious, really, given the sculpture obsession thing. I tried to take a calming breath, but it didn’t help much. My heart was pounding, my hands were sweating, and my knees were starting to quiver. There had to be a way out of this.

“Okay,” Ryan said. “But what are you going to do with our bodies? One body you could bury in the woods deep enough so the coyotes and bears wouldn’t make a mess in hours. But two? That’s a lot of digging. Not sure how you’re going to do that.”

I stared at him in disbelief. He was trying to deter a killer from killing by using disposal concerns? Seriously?

Skyler made a noise that, under other circumstances, would have been called a laugh. “Like I’m going to worry about hiding anything. All I have to do is make sure I’m not caught. No one has come down this road for the last hour, so I think I’m good. It’s not like anyone has security cameras out here.”

Reflexively, the three of us looked around. And, sure enough, there wasn’t a camera in sight. Not on a post, not on the corner of the restroom building, not in the branches of any tree.

I pulled in a breath. Because there, in a maple tree just overhead, was something I was pretty sure was the lashing tail of a black-and-white tabby cat.