Daria groaned inwardly at her instant thought. This man was off-limits for so many reasons, but she seemed to keep forgetting them. Especially when they were working together. It was just proximity, that’s all. And when this case was finally over, that would end and so would these crazy feelings.
Her voice a little brisk, she said, “I’ll secure everything here. You get going.”
“All right.”
“Tell Sam hi for me.”
“Will do. It’ll please him.”
She managed a smile but didn’t trust herself to say anything more.
When he’d gone, she shut down, considered taking the laptop home and decided she’d had quite enough of watching video for the moment, and locked it up. She stowed away all the paper files, then gathered up her personal things. Flipping out the lights, she turned the lock on the door and stepped out into the hall. As she pulled the door closed, she heard footsteps approaching, looked and saw Keith Parker coming toward her. He was working the night watch this month, so he had to be coming, not going.
“Hey,” he said when he spotted her. “How goes it on the case of the century?”
“Too slow, of course,” she answered.
“You’re keeping some late hours.”
“And early,” she said wryly.
“I’m glad Trey picked you, not me,” he joked.
She laughed. “You’re better off, trust me.”
He smiled as they parted. That smile that was as warm as ever. She smiled back, even as it struck her that if she’d felt a fraction of the spark she felt around Stefan Roberts with Keith, they’d still be dating. Or more.
She thought about that as she made her way to the door that led out to the employee parking area. She usually tried to avoid thinking about this particular subject, but the only thing that was powerful enough to replace it was this case, and she knew she needed to give that a rest. She had come very close to frying every circuit tonight, with all that video.
But it had paid off, in the end. The Shruggs lead might come to nothing, but at least it was a shot, something they hadn’t had in far too long. She had been living and breathing this evil for ten months now. She could barely remember her life before this, before Trey had entrusted her with this case that could likely affect him in a personal and permanent way. Trey, who had been through his own share of crap and yet had still teased her about having to fight even harder than he did; she wasn’t just biracial, she was also a woman. But if they didn’t break this case soon, Trey might lose the election. She didn’t think she could bear that.
And now she was at the third thing occupying so much of her mind, and there was nothing she could do about it except what she was already doing—working as hard as she could on the case.
When you’re not having inappropriate feelings about a certain FBI agent...
“Full circle,” she muttered to herself as she reached the back door and pushed it open.
For an instant she was startled. She’d almost forgotten about the snow. But it was still coming down, although not as fast as before. There were a couple of inches on the ground, and she could see trails of dark footprints where people had walked to and from their parked vehicles.
She was not ready for this. Couldn’t it have waited until next month, when it would have at least fit her idea of Christmas weather? She hadn’t even worn her sheepskin-lined boots, so her feet were going to be freezing by the time she got to her car. And it would take a while for anything but cold air to come out the heater vents.
Spoiled California girl. Just get it done.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped outside.
Chapter 10
The snow had stopped overnight at a lovely three or so inches. Just enough to make everything look white and pristine, Stefan thought, without causing a ton of problems. Much better than the nearly foot and a half most of Illinois had gotten in November a couple of years or so before he’d transferred here.
“Thanks for driving,” Daria said as they headed for The Lodge.
“This is nothing,” he replied, gesturing at the small, neatly plowed piles by the roadside. They had this snow thing down to a science in Roaring Springs. They probably had to, being that all the great skiing conditions in the world were of no use if people couldn’t get there. And the kind of clientele they catered to would likely have little patience with unnecessary delays. “Piece of cake,” he added.
“That’s why you’re driving, because you can say that,” Daria said with an arched brow. Which drew his attention to her eyes, of course. They really were an amazing color, the highlights almost like a piece of amber he’d seen in a wealthy man’s collection once. And he wondered yet again why some lucky guy hadn’t scooped her up yet. What was wrong with these Coloradans, that they let a woman like Daria stay footloose? Or was it her choice? That made more sense to him, because he couldn’t imagine guys were not lining up at her door.
He forced his attention back to the road ahead; slight or not, it was still snowy, they were climbing Pine Peak and he should be paying more attention. No matter how hard it was with her next to him in the car.
Professional, Roberts. Just keep it professional.
“Was Sam excited about this afternoon?”
“Very excited.” Eventually.
The boy wasn’t, at first. He was back to sulking, glaring at Stefan and telling him he didn’t want to go. The magic turnaround was when he found out they were friends of Daria’s and that she had arranged it.
They’re friends of hers?
Yes.
Oh. I guess I’ll go, then.
Stefan had added something about not getting into trouble because it would reflect on Daria, but he kind of doubted the five-year-old got it.
And then of course there was the rest...
“I’m glad,” Daria said.
“You may not be,” he said dryly. “He assumed you were going with us, to introduce us.”
“Oh.”
She frowned, and for a moment he figured he was going to have to explain to Sam why she wasn’t going with them. Then, slowly, she nodded, and when she spoke he realized she’d only been trying to work through Sam’s thought process.
“Okay, I get it—strange place, strange family, kids he doesn’t know... I can see that he’d want a familiar face there. At least at first.”
As they reached a stoplight and he halted the car, he took the chance to look at her. “Does that mean...you will?”
“What do you think?”
He blinked. Me? I think you should go with us. I think you should always go with us.
The shock of that thought rendered him speechless. He stared at her. Afraid to open his mouth for fear he’d look like a landed fish.
“I mean,” Daria explained as if he hadn’t understood, “I can see it would be easier for him, but would it be better in the long run to have him do it on his own? Or do you think it’s too soon for that?”
Sam. She was thinking of what would be best for Sam. That touched him somehow, yet at the same time he was wrestling with the remnants of that unexpected thought. It took him a moment to regroup, but then the light changed and it gave him an excuse to look away.
And he felt like two kinds of coward when he said, “Right now I think easier would be better if you came along.”
While that was true, it was so far from the complete truth that he winced inwardly. Easier for who?
He’d always thought of himself as a pretty up-front kind of guy personally, with the only subterfuge he did related to his work. But right now he was suddenly holding more back than he was saying, and it was an uncomfortable feeling.
“All right.”
Was that all right she understood, all right she agreed or all right she would come? And why the hell did it matter so much?
Stefan focused more than he needed to as they approache
d the massive, covered entrance to The Lodge, with its stone pillars and colorful slate surface, free of any snow. He pulled to a halt just under the rough-timbered, beamed roof, out of the way of traffic, then turned to look at Daria again. “Does that mean you’ll come?” he asked bluntly.
She looked surprised. “Of course, if you think it’s best.”
He wasn’t sure that shouldn’t be the other way around, since she was clearly much better at this than he was. But it didn’t really matter—what mattered was that she would be there.
For Sam’s sake, of course.
* * *
Stefan seemed a bit scattered this morning, but Daria supposed every morning was like that for him now. Working nearly every day, weekend or no, he hadn’t had anywhere near the time off he needed to settle in with his son. If he hadn’t already been knee-deep in this case by the time Sam had arrived, it would have been reason enough for them to assign someone else. But Stefan had actually been involved indirectly ever since he’d fielded a random call from Detective Kastor at RSPD, asking for the name of a surveillance expert, and had heard the rumblings that they were possibly dealing with multiple murders.
Of course, the avalanche that had uncovered the bodies and given their serial killer his moniker hadn’t happened until months later, but Stefan had immediately connected things and so was elected to be the agent to get involved when Trey had made the request. And then his own life had been upended by the unexpected arrival of his son. When it came down to it, Daria was amazed he was as focused as he had managed to be so far.
Stefan cleared the vehicle with the head valet, who either let nothing ruffle him or had grown used to having law enforcement show up over the last ten-plus months. Daria watched as a low-slung Italian sports car pulled up, the driver apparently giving a long string of instructions before he let the valet take the vehicle. One day she’d like to ask the guy what the craziest request he’d ever gotten was, but this was hardly the time.
She noticed Stefan looking up at the rather intricate structure of huge timber beams that held up the portico roof. When he caught her watching him with curiosity, he shrugged.
“My dad’s a builder,” he explained. “He’d love to see this.”
“Then you’ll have to bring him here when they visit.”
He looked at her then, and smiled. “Yes,” he said. “I called them this morning. They never hesitated.”
She couldn’t help it—she grinned at him. “I knew it. Just from the way you described them.”
He looked a tad sheepish. “Dad’s finishing up a project, but they’ll be here by the end of next week. And stay for Thanksgiving, even.”
“Well, if this keeps up, that’ll be a shock,” she said, gesturing at the snow.
“Illinois,” he reminded her, but then he grimaced. “God help me, my dad wants to learn to ski.”
Daria’s grin widened. “And your mom?”
His mouth twitched. “Knowing her, she’ll want to snowboard.” She laughed in delight at that. He stopped just inside the big wood-and-glass doors and turned to face her. “Mom even said if Dad couldn’t get clear, she’d come. And they never go anywhere without each other.”
“Obviously their son and grandson are worth an exception,” she said, both amused and touched by the wonder in his voice.
“Yeah,” he murmured, still sounding a bit amazed. “I...um...thanks.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to see the path when you’re in the middle of chaos,” she told him with a smile as they went in and crossed the lobby, so familiar from the hours of video, and yet so different in person from the ground level.
And different now than it had been even last year; the place was practically empty. Not many clamoring to visit or vacation here when there was a serial killer on the loose. If they didn’t wrap this up soon, not only could more women be killed, but the economic base of Roaring Springs might never recover. She had already wondered if the name of the town was going to be forever linked to that Avalanche Killer moniker.
But now she found herself, perhaps because of the fewer people milling about, noticing the building itself more than she usually did. Then, curiously, she asked Stefan, “What does your dad build?”
“Houses, mostly, and the occasional small commercial project. Nothing like this,” he said, gesturing around at The Lodge. “He’ll love to see it, though.”
“It is pretty impressive.”
“Yes. And he’ll see that. But he’ll also think of how many people were employed for how long, how many other businesses got paid along the way.” At her quirked brow, he shrugged. “He’s a big-picture kind of guy. He likes seeing how a big project like this plays out.”
“I like how you sound when you speak of him,” she said, meaning it.
“He’s my hero,” Stefan admitted. “I mean, I went through the usual rebellion stuff when I was in college, figuring I’d learned to be smarter than this guy who had made a solid living and supported a family of six for twenty-five years. Took me until Sam was born to get that completely out of my system and see the real worth of who he was and what he’d done.”
By now he was reaching for the door to the hallway that led to the administrative offices of The Lodge. Impulsively Daria reached out and touched his arm. She was startled when he flinched as if burned, but after a moment he only turned to look at her.
“You really want to thank me?” she asked. For an instant something flared in his eyes. She felt a responding flush of warmth and tried not to acknowledge what it was. “Then bring your folks here one night after they arrive. Buy them dinner at the steak house, and tell your father word for word what you just said.”
His eyes changed then, to radiating a different kind of heat. “That is a great idea. And I will do it. But how does that thank you?”
“Because I never had that chance,” she said softly.
She’d never spoken about her adoptive family for fear she would let something slip about the secret she’d kept since she’d come to Roaring Springs. Being a former president’s adopted daughter was complicated, but here amid a ton of other Coltons, it would be even more so. What was it about this family? They couldn’t seem to quietly blend into the fabric of any place they landed.
But this somehow seemed too important for her to keep to herself. For Stefan, anyway. And he already knew she didn’t know who her biological father was—she’d told him when he’d agreed to try and trace what had happened to her mother. The results hadn’t been what she’d hoped for, but they had been what she’d expected. And although she’d thanked him profusely at the time, she had never quite felt as if she’d thanked him enough. But now, maybe she’d at least made a payment.
As she’d expected, Curtis Shruggs was not in his office on this Saturday morning. What she hadn’t expected was when his assistant, a middle-aged woman who managed to look both efficient and harried at the same time, told them he usually was around on the weekends, but he’d been out for the last three days with the flu. In the process, Shelly Bates showed herself to be one of those who, with an upward inflection at the end of her sentences, seemed to make every statement a question. Daria knew it was just a vocal tic some people had, but usually it was in people young enough to be uncertain about most things. Before they became positive about everything, she thought, stifling a smile.
“He doesn’t answer his phone or texts, which worried me, so I went by his place to check on him, but he wasn’t there at all? It’s so unlike him?” the woman said, sounding anxious.
“So he’s a dedicated-to-his-job sort of guy?” Daria asked.
Shelly nodded. “He never even takes a real vacation, just some long weekends or a few days here and there, you know? Sometimes even just a few hours now and—”
“We’ll need those dates,” Stefan said.
The woman gave him a rather shy but appreciative look. But she still manage
d to look surprised. “For Mr. Shruggs?”
“Well, we need to include him, of course, to be thorough,” Daria interjected quickly, sounding almost dismissive of the idea of including the man, “But what we really need are those records on The Lodge personnel, staff, management, everyone, dating back to January.”
Stefan glanced at her, then gave the barest nod, agreeing that there was no point in doing anything that might give Shruggs a heads-up. Best to keep him thinking they were looking at everyone for as long as they could.
“I thought you had all that?” the woman asked.
“I believe the police department does, but that was before the FBI was called in,” Stefan explained with a charming wink Daria had no doubt got him just about anywhere he wanted to go with any breathing woman. “Sorry to put you to work again, but as long as we’re here anyway, it would really help.”
“Oh, of course!” For the first time it wasn’t a question. “Do you want the paper schedules, too?” She sounded apologetic. “We do post them on the bulletin board, so if any of the staff make switches among themselves, there’s a record.”
“Then yes, we’ll need those, too,” Daria said.
“It must be tough,” Stefan mused sympathetically, smiling at the woman, “working for a guy who ignores his own rules.”
Shelly blinked. “I...well, he is the boss? And he can be kind of...intimidating, sometimes, you know?”
“Still,” Stefan said. “I had a boss once who demanded no one make personal phone calls, but he went ahead and did it all the time. Kind of like Mr. Shruggs hanging out in the hotel bar when you’re not allowed to.”
Daria saw a faint tinge of color rise in the woman’s cheeks. But Stefan kept giving her that sympathetic look and captivating smile, and after a moment she gave in.
“We do talk about it, sometimes, that he goes in there. But we figured he was just kind of lonely, and maybe didn’t want to go home to an empty house, you know?”
“You think he’s lonely?” Daria asked.
The woman shrugged. “It’s just...a feeling, I guess? He’s always nice here at work, very professional, but—”
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