Echo Lake

by Carla Neggers

  Heather helped herself to an olive. “I got your message and invited Vic. He said to thank you but he’s tired from his drive up from New York this morning.”

  “Another time, then. What about Brody?”

  “He had to leave.” Heather glanced at her watch. She wondered if he was on his flight. She made an effort to smile. “Duty called.”

  “Oh. You mean he’s on some kind of mission?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see. And he didn’t give you any details, so it must be dangerous.” Maggie paled slightly. “Heather—”

  Eric had come in through the back door. “These guys are careful and well trained,” he said then slung an arm over Heather’s shoulder. “Brody isn’t the wild pumpkin-smasher he used to be, is he, little sister?”

  Aidan squeezed between Heather and his mother. “I hate olives,” he said.

  Maggie scoffed. “How do you know if you’ve never tried one?”

  “I’ve tried them a million times, Mom. It’s Tyler who won’t try them.”

  “Because you gag instead of letting him make up his own mind.”

  The rest of their family descended on Maggie and Brandon’s house.

  After dinner, Brandon got out his Risk game. Justin, Adam and Christopher joined him. Eric passed since he had to be on duty soon. Brandon invited Heather, but she declined. She knew they were making a point. She didn’t have the memories of Brody Hancock as a teenager that they did. They were reminding her that he wasn’t a sexy stranger who’d wandered into town.

  But he wasn’t that to her, either.

  “We used to play Risk with Brody,” Justin said. “He was a total hard-ass. No prisoners.”

  “I remember,” Heather said.

  Justin looked surprised. “Really? Most of the time you were sulking in your room.”

  “I remember he played Risk with you guys. I don’t remember if he was a hard-ass.” She pulled out a chair at the kitchen table where they’d set up the game. “And I never sulked. It’s not a Sloan trait.”

  Brandon grinned at her. “You kicked our butts when you did play with us. Wait until you and Brody play Risk and he sees what a devious world conqueror you are.”

  Heather laughed. “You guys don’t hold a grudge against him?”

  “Never did,” Adam said. “You can’t hold grudges in a big, healthy family.”

  “That doesn’t mean we weren’t wary of Brody’s return to town,” Justin added.

  The Risk game broke up early when Aidan and Tyler persuaded their uncles to take them ice-skating. The boys had their arguments set. It was Friday night. The rink was open until ten on Fridays. They could stay up. They’d make everyone hot chocolate.

  Maggie declined to join them. “I’m staying here to put up my feet and read while it’s quiet.”

  Her husband kissed her on the top of her head. “It won’t stay quiet.”

  She smiled. “It never does.” She looked at Heather with concern. “Do you want to stay? I’ve got ice cream in the freezer.”

  “No. Enjoy your quiet time.”

  * * *

  Heather walked with her nephews and brothers to the common but continued on to Thistle Lane. When she approached her house, she saw a car in the driveway, and for a moment thought it might be Brody. Which, of course, was impossible, and also not the case. For one thing, the car was sleeker, newer and had Massachusetts plates.

  Noah Kendrick and Phoebe O’Dunn stepped out and waved to Heather. She waved back and picked up her pace. “Noah, Phoebe—what a wonderful surprise. Welcome home!” She reached the driveway. “It’s great to see you.”

  “You, too, Heather,” Phoebe said. “We just got in.”

  On Noah’s private jet, no doubt. Heather motioned toward Phoebe’s darkened house. “You two can stay here. I can stay with my folks or one of my brothers. It’ll take me two seconds to pack.”

  Noah shook his head. “We wouldn’t hear of it, Heather.”

  He was fair-haired and deceptively fit, a master fencer as well as a high-tech genius. He was driven, but also kind—and obviously in love with Phoebe, his turquoise-eyed, redheaded librarian.

  “We’re staying with my mother,” Phoebe said. “We’re only here for a few days. We’re discussing wedding plans.” She smiled. “Noah and I are engaged.”

  Heather clapped her hands together in delight. “Congratulations! That’s wonderful. I’m thrilled for you both.”

  She brought them inside. She was relieved she’d tidied up and the place didn’t show any obvious signs of Brody’s presence.

  Noah slipped his arm around Phoebe. Definitely a man in love, Heather thought. And Phoebe...she smiled at him in such an intimate way that Heather could see her friend’s love for this man was more than up to the massive changes in store for her. Phoebe had settled into a fulfilling life on Thistle Lane and her work as the library director. Now she was engaged to a billionaire.

  But to Phoebe, Noah was simply the man she loved. The rest didn’t matter.

  They chatted for a few minutes, catching up on Knights Bridge goings-on. Elly had already filled in her eldest daughter on Brody’s return but not the reasons. As fast as news traveled in their hometown, people did have their secrets and could be discreet, and Heather had no intention of discussing Adrienne’s relationship to Vic.

  “There was nothing to these incidents?” Phoebe asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “What’s Brody like now?”

  Heather’s mouth went dry. She saw Noah narrow his eyes on her. She suspected he wasn’t nearly as clueless about people as he liked to believe—and liked everyone else to believe.

  She decided on a vague answer. “He’s good, I guess. You just missed him. He left today.”

  “Is he coming back?” Phoebe asked.

  “I don’t know. Anyway—is there anything I can do for you?”

  “We hear Adrienne Portale is house-sitting for Ambassador Scarlatti,” Noah said.

  “Not at the moment. Do you know her?”

  “Of her,” Phoebe said.

  Noah nodded. “We understand she’s quite the wine enthusiast.”

  “She is,” Heather said. “I’m not an expert, of course, but she put on a couple of wine tastings and talked to me about wine. She’s been helping Vic with a wine cellar. She obviously loves what she does.”

  “I got the impression from my mother that Adrienne is at a loose end right now,” Phoebe said.

  Heather nodded. “That’s true.”

  “I’d like to talk to her,” Noah said. “If she’s interested. Could you arrange an introduction, Heather?”

  “I’ll do what I can,” she said.

  Noah had an uncanny knack for choosing the right people to do what he couldn’t or didn’t want to do, and he was intensely loyal. His friendship with Dylan McCaffrey went back to kindergarten. Dylan had been an ex-hockey player sleeping in his car when Noah had tapped on his window and begged him to help him with his fledgling high-tech company.

  After Phoebe and Noah left, Heather called Adrienne’s cell phone and left a message. She would call back or she wouldn’t, but Heather had a feeling that whatever Noah had in mind could be just what her new friend needed right now.

  What do I need?

  Heather let the question hang unanswered in her mind and went over to Phoebe’s bookcase. She chose a frayed copy of Assignment in Brittany by Helen MacInnes.

  She had a good life, but for the first time—the first time ever, she thought—she felt a tweak of what she could only describe as loneliness.

  How was that even possible?

  She took her book up to her empty bed. As she turned the first page, she received a text message. She assumed it was one of her brothers, but it wasn’t.

&n
bsp; Wheels up in ten minutes. All good there?

  All good. Rohan is back at Vic’s.

  I heard. He peed in the dining room. Vic had to clean it up himself.

  Heather smiled.

  Life on Echo Lake.

  Gotta go.

  Be safe.

  Always.

  She knew he was gone. She held her phone tight in her hand, as if somehow that brought him closer to her. After another minute, she set her phone on her nightstand and opened her book.

  He stared at the unfamiliar watch on his wrist. Three hours ago he had stood on English soil. Three hours ago he had been Martin Hearne, British Intelligence agent.

  Perfect, Heather thought, and continued to read as the wind picked up outside with the brewing weekend storm.

  Twenty

  The storm picked up steam Friday night and raged through Saturday, finally dwindling to flurries before the sun broke out midday Sunday. With almost two feet of snow dumped on Knights Bridge, the roads were edged with tall snowbanks and evergreens drooped with heavy wet snow, any green branches barely visible under the white. The sky turned blue, and when Heather arrived on Echo Lake, its beauty took her breath away.

  She was there on a Sunday because Adrienne had called.

  Heather found her friend in the driveway with Rohan and a pair of snowshoes. “Elly O’Dunn will be here any minute,” Adrienne said. “We’re going to snowshoe out to the state forest. Vic is grumbling, but he’s joining us. Heather...I’m so sorry I’ve been out of touch. I needed time.”

  “It’s good to see you, Adrienne.”

  She set her snowshoes on the plowed driveway. “I’m not staying. I want to see about Rohan and then go back to New York. I have a friend’s couch I can sleep on.”

  “Do you want to talk to Noah first?”

  Adrienne frowned. “Noah?”

  “Did you get my message?”

  “No. I saw you’d called but I didn’t listen to your voice mail. It’s a bad habit. Are we talking about Noah Kendrick?”

  “He and Phoebe are in Knights Bridge.”

  “Oh. Elly said she was bringing one of her daughters. It must be Phoebe. Do you think Noah will be with her?” Adrienne knelt down, pulling off her gloves and tightening the ties on her boots. Finally, she looked up at Heather. “You know Noah’s winery is an incredible winery, don’t you?”

  Heather smiled. “I’ve heard it has huge potential.”

  She smiled back, rising. “Wonder who told you that. Oh, Heather. I’m not going to get ahead of myself, but I would love to talk to Noah. Did you bring your snowshoes?”

  “I keep a pair in my truck. It’s okay, though. You all go on.” Heather tried to think of an honest if incomplete excuse. “I did a lot of shoveling this morning.”

  “Ugh. One of my least favorite winter chores.” Adrienne laughed as Rohan got hold of one of her boot laces and loosened it. She patted him on the head. “Don’t worry, buddy. You’re joining us. You don’t have to tear into my laces.” She squatted down again and retied the lace. “Vic said Brody was here overnight and then left on Friday. Think he’ll be back?”

  “I don’t know why he came back last week,” Heather said.

  “Don’t you?” Vic asked, joining them. He set his brand-new snowshoes on the driveway and stabbed the poles into a snowbank. “I can’t believe I let myself get talked into snowshoeing. In any event—Heather, you must know why Brody stopped here.”

  “Something to do with you, I assume,” she said.

  Vic shook his head. “Nothing to do with me. My dear Heather, Brody came back because of you. He knew he was leaving, and he wanted to see you first.”

  “He said that?”

  “Of course not. Brody doesn’t talk that way. But it’s the deal.”

  “I like it,” Adrienne said with a smile. “You and Brody, Heather. I like it a lot. It’s complicated, though, isn’t it?”

  Vic snorted, dismissive. “The Sloans aren’t hothouse flowers. Heather will adjust. And no one’s tougher than these DSS agents. If there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  Adrienne turned to Heather. “You know who you are. That will help, whatever happens with you and Brody. I’ve struggled on that score.”

  “Are you still struggling?” Heather asked her.

  She smiled. “Less and less.”

  “I’m struggling with these damn snowshoes,” Vic muttered. “Which one is right and which one is left, or doesn’t it matter?”

  Adrienne laughed, shaking her head. “I have no idea.”

  Elly and Phoebe arrived, and Elly got Vic straightened out. Heather waited until they set off down the as-yet unplowed road to Brody’s property, where there were trails to the north shore of the lake. Then she walked down to the guesthouse. She didn’t go inside but instead stepped into the deep snow on the porch. She wondered where Brody was right now, and if he thought about Knights Bridge and Echo Lake—if they helped or were a dangerous and unwelcome distraction. Or if he’d slipped back into his old life, and didn’t think about his hometown at all.

  * * *

  By the end of the week, Heather knew she was ready to get her first crew out to Vic’s house that Monday. Vic had decided to stay in his guesthouse during the renovations and give up his apartment in New York. Adrienne was exchanging emails with the manager at Noah Kendrick’s winery about how her skills and enthusiasm could help take their labels to the next level. In the meantime, she was snowshoeing every day and working on Vic’s wine cellar. Not once had she mentioned her relationship to him to Heather. It was as if Adrienne had buried that knowledge until the time was right to take it out and figure out its impact on her life.

  Heather was in the guesthouse, checking on the heat per Vic’s request when she heard a vehicle arrive. She thought it might be Noah, but in another minute, she saw a man at the back door. Her heart jumped, but it wasn’t Brody. This man was thickset, with close-cropped hair as red as any O’Dunn’s.

  “Greg Rawlings,” he said when she opened the door. “Brody’s friend.”

  Heather felt her heart jump. “Something’s happened?”

  “What?”

  “Brody...”

  “He’s not here? I thought he’d be back in Knights Bridge by now. That’ll teach me to think.”

  “I’m Heather Sloan, by the way. I don’t live here. I’m overseeing renovations on Ambassador Scarlatti’s house.”

  “Right. I know.” Greg glanced around, as if noticing his surroundings for the first time. “Nice place. There’s a ton of snow out here if you haven’t noticed. Damn.” He looked again at Heather. “Have you heard from Brody?”

  She shook her head. “Not since he left.”

  “Right.” The burly DSS agent shrugged. “Sometimes you can’t communicate.

  “Where’s Vic? I heard he’s growing kale these days.”

  Greg obviously knew that Vic had come up behind him on the small porch. “In your dreams, Agent Rawlings. I recognized your car. How are you?”

  “Alive. Did my survival a couple months ago cost you money in the pool?”

  “Gallows humor,” Vic said.

  “How’s your daughter?”

  “You go near her, and I’ll call the cops.”

  “I am the cops. Relax. I’m off to parts unknown, and she’s too young for me.”

  “You’re healed?”

  “Cleared for hazardous duty.”

  But he’d obviously expected Brody to be there. Heather could see Vic was concerned, too. She brought them into the guesthouse kitchen. “If something happened,” she said, addressing the senior DSS agent, “you’d know, wouldn’t you?”

  “To Brody you mean? You bet. I’d know.”

  “Then where is he?”

 
“I don’t know. We went our separate ways a couple days ago. He mentioned stopping in Washington. I didn’t think he was serious.”

  “Oh, dear,” Vic said. “A new assignment brewing?”

  Greg ignored him. “I’ll throw my stuff in a guest room with a view. Vic, no law against building a fire down by the lake, is there?”

  “A fire? Why would—”

  “No? Good.”

  Greg disappeared down the hall. Vic turned to Heather. “Brody and Greg go back to Brody’s first days as a DSS agent.”

  Heather understood what he was saying. Brody Hancock and Greg Rawlings had a friendship and a bond based on work that she, and even Vic, if less so, could never fully understand.

  “Knights Bridge won’t make Brody happy any more than it did his parents, will it, Vic?”

  “I’ve offered to buy his land here a number of times. He’s never so much as named a price. Echo Lake is home, Heather. His parents only came here as adults. They were unhappy together, and they didn’t like Knights Bridge. They focused on themselves and their own wants and left Brody to his own devices. It didn’t get better after they divorced.”

  “No wonder he cleared out of town.” She fingered the dishes he’d left in the strainer. “What if going on this mission brought him to his senses, and he doesn’t come back here? Greg would know if something was wrong, wouldn’t he? If Brody was in danger—”

  “Greg would know, yes. Absolutely.” Vic studied her a moment. “Heather?”

  She shook off her questions. “The heat’s fine in here, Vic.”

  He hesitated then nodded. “Good. I love this place, but I hate to be cold.”

  * * *

  Heather went straight back to Thistle Lane and tried on the Cleopatra dress in Phoebe’s back room, because, well, why not? The dress was too tight, but not way too tight, but it wasn’t as much fun as the Glinda dress—even before Brody had arrived and helped get it off.