Mason had a choice here. He could either call the cops, maintain his image of John Langston’s son for the town of Hayden and have me arrested. Or, he could help me hide the body. I felt Abbie’s hand wrap around my forearm, her fingers tightening. I held my breath, heart pounding, only to release it five seconds later when Mason said, “I’ll call your dad.” “He won’t get here in time,” I argued, shaking my head. “We have to get the body out of here now. Leaving it would do me no good.”
