My chest tightened and heat flushed my face. Bram saw me as a delicate invalid. Even without knowing I was a coward, he’d discovered my prosthesis, seen the PTSD episodes.

I just wanted to get back to Clan Firinn. Back to safety.

Bram glanced out the window. “We’ll need to locate everyone one way or the other. They could be injured, like Cookie. And we need to secure an area for the night. We don’t know if this person is armed, and there are too many ways to get into this room.”

A log popped in the fireplace.

I jerked, then listened. Only the slight crackle of the fire. “Do you hear that?”

“I don’t hear anything,” Bram said.

“Right. The hum of the generator is gone.”

Roy shook himself slightly and looked up. “It’s probably out of fuel. Unless we can get to the generator, the fresh food won’t keep.”

“And no way will the beer stay cold.” Liam stood and headed for the kitchen.

Cookie stirred and opened her eyes. “Darby? I . . . I thought you left.”

“I’m here now.” I gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

Her eyebrows knitted together for a moment. “I couldn’t find my staff. Told Roy, then started for the staff housing . . . I heard a horse walking on the road . . . someone behind me, I turned . . . then nothing.”

“The horse on the road would have been us,” Bram said. “So the killer took off before he could . . . finish with Cookie.”

I caught Bram’s attention. “How long do you think those two men had been dead?” I whispered.

“Not long. Why?”

Liam sauntered into the dining room, fresh can of beer in hand.

I looked at Liam, then back at Bram.

He nodded. “Maybe.”

Wyatt shifted his rifle from hand to hand. “We gotta get out of here. We’re sitting ducks, just waiting.”

“Roy, how many firearms do you have?” Bram asked.

“Several rifles, a shotgun, two pistols . . .”

“Where are they?” Bram asked.

“Oh.” If possible, Roy’s face had gone paler.

“Oh, what?” Bram moved to the older man and sat in a chair next to him. “What?”

“I didn’t register this earlier. I can’t concentrate—”

I reached over and squeezed the man’s arm. “What is it, Roy?” I said softly.

“The guns were shut up in my office with the radio. They’re gone.”

*  *  *

Bram didn’t think things could get any worse, but the news of the missing firearms was the final blow. He figured the killer had knocked out his victims, then used a knife so as not to alert others. But the killer had enough firepower to take out all of them.

Bram rubbed his face. “The way I see it—”

“Who put you in charge?” Wyatt faced him.