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The Last Bride (DiCarlo Brides #6)

Page 18

by Heather Tullis


  He crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to feel defensive, like she wasn’t making him nervous, even though she was. “Are you for real?”

  Her brows lifted, but she didn’t answer.

  “Because I don’t know anyone like you. I’m not sure if I believe that this,” he waved his hands to encompass the dining table and everything on it, “is who you are, or if you’re putting on a show like women sometimes do.”

  She walked past him into the kitchen and pulled a pretty bowl that definitely did not belong to him from the fridge. It was full of salad greens which were sprinkled with mushrooms and tomatoes and all kinds of other good things. “If you haven’t seen enough of me to figure out that this is who I am, I guess you’ll have to hang around for a while and see for yourself. In the meantime, dinner is ready.”

  Gage reached out and touched her arm. “Hey, I’m sorry I’m just… reeling. You blow my mind, seriously, and I can barely get my feet under me with everything else going on anyway.”

  Her shoulders fell a little and she looked apologetic. “I know. I didn’t mean to be testy. You kind of go out of your way to push my buttons, you know?”

  He felt bad about that. In trying to be honest with her, he knew he had probably hurt her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. “Thank you for making dinner. It was exactly what I needed tonight. And to have you here.”

  “Good. Sit, before it gets cold.” She didn’t treat him any differently than before, but there was a cool edge to her, showing that he’d hurt her, and he didn’t like it, or himself for causing it.

  He had no idea what to say or do to make it better, not without possibly making it worse. She was giving him a little time to figure it out. He was going to take it, and hopefully he’d know what he wanted from it soon.

  Gage had worked the next day, and the next, needing something tangible to do, even if he was not as effective as usual. After checking in on Natalie again, he decided sitting at his desk was going to drive him crazy, he went out to see what Ross was up to. It took a few minutes to raise him on the radio, and another ten to reach him at the base of one of the ski lifts.

  It was a beautiful day with sunlight pouring over everything and the bright green leaves of spring. Just being outside helped to brighten Gage’s mood.

  Until he saw the grimace on Ross’s face as he climbed back down from where he’d been inspecting the haul rope.

  “What’s up? You don’t look happy.”

  Ross shook his head and removed the heavy leather gloves he’d been wearing while he worked. “I’ve checked out ropes on three of the lifts. They all share a similar wear pattern.”

  “The assemblies are the same, so that make sense, right?” Gage asked. Ross had been head of engineering at the ski resort for nearly two decades, so he knew far more about the lifts than Gage did.

  “It would if the wear had come from the system.” He pulled out his cell phone. “I saw the damage on Moose Ridge when you bought the place. It was normal wear and tear—compounded by lack of maintenance on the system because the previous owner was too cheap to keep things up. This is different.” He scrolled through several shots, pointing to the damage on the metal cable. “This isn’t normal wear. It’s not even neglect wear. And all three of the lifts I’ve looked at have the same damage.”

  Gage did not like where this was going. “Are you saying it’s sabotage?”

  “I’ve been all over this lift and the other two. Whatever caused that damage isn’t on the system anymore. It has to be sabotage.”

  Gage swore long and low, wishing he could wrap his hands around the neck of whoever messed with his stuff. “Any idea at all when it happened or who might have done it?”

  Ross shrugged. “The haul ropes looked okay when I inspected them in early March. It must have happened after that. We used them for another six weeks before closing for the season.”

  “Great. Just perfect. Call the cops this afternoon, will you? I want you to give them a full report. There’s nothing we can do about it if we don’t know who did it, but maybe we can get the insurance company to pony up some of the replacement costs. In my dreams.”

  He grabbed his bike and took it on a trail for an hour after that, needing some time alone before he blew up at someone.

  Gage headed home that evening, worn out from the stress of work, and the well-meaning friends and neighbors who had called him all afternoon with condolences. He wished he could just step away for a while and shut the world out.

  His phone rang—the caller ID showed a blocked call and he almost didn’t answer it, but he had too many balls in the air to miss a call now. “Hello?”

  “Gage, this is Detective Carlson. Could you swing by the station?”

  “Yeah. I’m in the car now; I’ll be there in five minutes.” He pulled into a nearby driveway and turned his car around, turning toward to the sheriff’s office.

  He walked into the station a little later, his stomach twisting in knots from worry about what the detective had found. It couldn’t be as straight-forward as having made an arrest. Surely he would have just said so if that was it. Gage greeted the curly haired brunette behind the front window. “Hi, the detective asked me to come talk to him.”

  “Yes, he said to show you on back.” She gestured to the door. “Come on through.”

  Gage heard the door locks disengage as he approached the door to the hall that ran behind the office manager’s desk. She joined him on the other side and gestured to him. “Follow me. I was sorry to hear about your mom. I’m glad your sister is back safely, though.”

  “Thanks. It’s a relief having her home.” He felt like he was answering by rote. He was grateful when she paused in front of a door and gestured inside. “Here you are.”

  “Thanks.” Gage entered, greeting the detective. “You have some news for me?”

  “Yes, take a seat. We’ve been gathering information and researching both cases today. Do you recognize this man?” He slid a blurry picture across the table.

  Gage picked it up. It was a shot from a traffic camera with a time stamp of ten minutes after the money drop off. He stared at the figure, wishing the picture was a little better. “No, I don’t think so, but the guy who took the money was covered up.”

  “Joel looked at it earlier and said he thought it was the same car, but we haven’t been able to find it. According to the system, the car was reported stolen that morning. We’ve found no trace of him or the money, but we’re still looking.”

  Gage leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Any news from the break-in?”

  “No. We’ve got some possible DNA evidence, but they’re still running it through the system. We won’t know if it matches anyone for a while. We do have new information about your mother’s autopsy.”

  Gage was surprised. “They said it was a heart attack.”

  The detective played with a pen on the desk. “Yes, but it wasn’t a natural heart attack. The coroner found the drug epinephrine in her system—far too much to account for what was given to her. It’s frequently used to treat patients suffering from a heart attack, but too much can cause one too.”

  “Why would they have prescribed that? She didn’t have any heart problems.”

  The detective’s voice was low and calming, though the tone was still serious. “They didn’t. They used some while trying to revive her, but someone else gave her a massive dose before she coded. We pulled video footage at the hospital to see if we can find images of whomever might have given it to her. We found an image of someone, but she has long blond hair falling over most of her face in the shot so she isn’t recognizable.” He paused and gave Gage a moment to absorb that before going on. “I need to know if there is anyone who might have wanted your mother dead. We were working on the assumption that she was an innocent bystander who got in the way when they abducted your sister. But we may have been wrong. Maybe she was a target all along.”

  Gage stared at the detective, feeling the b
lood drain from his head. “You can’t be serious.” His mom wasn’t always a joy to be around, but who would want her dead?

  “I’m afraid I am. I need you to tell me more about your relationship with her.”

  Gage suddenly realized why the detective had him come in. He sat straighter in his chair. “So now I’m a suspect. Even though I was in Juniper Ridge when my mom was drugged?”

  “I’d like to know more about where you were when she was attacked at home and when she was drugged.”

  Gage looked right back at the detective. “I was with Jonquil Chestnut both times. I was at the dinner theater opening night with her and Jeremy, his fianceé, Delphi, along with Lana and Blake Bahlmann. We met almost straight after I got off work—Jeremy found me there and asked me to join them for the evening.” He played with the keys in his lap and was glad he was in the detective’s office and not an interrogation room. “I spent the day my mom died at the hospital with her. I left around nine-thirty and drove back here. I went to Jonquil’s for a late dinner and was getting ready to say goodnight when the call came. Jonquil and I returned to Denver.”

  “You’re spending a lot of time with Miss Chestnut lately.” Detective Carlson’s comment was mild, as if making an observation.

  “We have a lot of friends and relatives in common.” Gage responded just as evenly. “We get along well. Is this relevant to my mom?”

  “You won’t mind if I talk to her?”

  Gage’s eyes narrowed. “Feel free. You know about what happened with my lifts, right? That someone sabotaged them? Could they be related?” He’d filed a report about the damage, but hadn’t expected the cops to find out anything.

  “We’re keeping that in mind.”

  “Great. Do you need anything else? She’s waiting for me at home.”

  “No. I’ll keep you apprised.”

  “Thanks.” Gage stood and moved to the door. He had to get outside before he hit something. He knew the police had to cover every possibility, but hadn’t he been through enough already?

  Someone killed his mom, though. Intentionally. And sabotaged his lifts. Were the two related? What had they been after? And what did they have to gain?

  After dinner at Gage’s that night, and learning about the sabotage at work and the murder, Jonquil settled with him on the sofa and took his mind off his troubles, arguing sports with him and the basketball commentator on television. They snuggled together discussing their favorite players, segued into the ins and out of baseball and the designated hitter rule. They each took turns talking about their favorite games from their high school days. And she had to bring their kisses to an end several times when things were headed toward a serious conflagration.

  When she was starting to get sleepy, despite the fact that her watch said it was barely ten, she decided she better get home before his kisses convinced her otherwise. “I better clear out. We both have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” She sat up and reached for her shoes, which she had kicked off hours earlier.

  “I wish you wouldn’t.” His words were low and earnest.

  She slid her right foot into the shoes and reached for the second one. “I’m wiped. It’s been a long day.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She slid on the second shoe, then turned to face him. “Yeah, I do.”

  “So stay. Who’s going to care?”

  Jonquil’s heart pounded as she tried to put this into words and hoped he would get what she was saying. “It’s probably been the worst week of your entire life and you don’t know what you want from me. From us. I want more than this. A lot more than this, but I can’t give it to you if you’re going to wake up in a couple of weeks and realize you only slept with me because you were desperate for something, for someone when life turned upside down. I,” she couldn’t say she loved him, not now when it would make him turn and run the other way. “I don’t have to have a lifetime commitment from you or anything, but I need to know that you’re in it because you want to be, and not just because I’m convenient.” Her heart broke even as she said the words.

  He shifted back, anger making his face harden. “Convenient? You think I’m playing games with you?”

  She shook her head, being careful about her words. “No. You don’t play games. But that doesn’t mean that you know what you want at the moment, does it? If you’re not sure you’re ready to be in a real relationship, then this is all we can be.” She stood and faced him, stepping back so he wouldn’t feel like she was towering above him. “I may be resilient, but even I have my limits. So I’ll be here for you, but until you’ve had time to put the funeral behind you, to decide where you stand on us, I’m not sleeping with you.” Jonquil turned and picked up her purse from the edge of the counter where she’d set it when she’d come in earlier.

  There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Yeah. I can bring something for dinner again, if you want. It probably won’t be this fancy.” She looked over her shoulder at him.

  He still slumped on the sofa where she’d left him. “I think I’d like that.”

  Jonquil smiled. “Okay. Have a good night.” She turned and walked out the front door before he decided to stop her for another goodbye kiss. One more and she might just burst into flames.

  Angela was sitting at the kitchen counter, dipping a cookie into a bowl of Häagen-Dazs instead of using a spoon when Jonquil got home. “Hey, long-time no-see,” Angela greeted her.

  “Yeah, I didn’t know you’d be home already. You must have booked it over after your performance tonight.” Jonquil hooked her purse on the back of a chair at the bar. “Were you hoping to see Alex? He leaves in the morning. How did your date go, anyway?”

  Angela frowned. “I thought things were going fine, but he got some emergency call and ducked out in the middle. At least that’s what he said.” She frowned into the pint of ice cream. “Are all guys jerks?”

  “I honestly have no idea.” Jonquil slid onto the seat beside her sister, picked up one of the Oreos from the plate between them and twisted it open. “Other than the thing with Alex, are you enjoying it here?”

  “Yeah, what’s not to like? Free room and board, an endless supply of ice cream in the freezer. You’re never home, so it’s not like I have to deal with you, right?” her words were light and airy, but hurt lingered in her eyes.

  Guilt swamped Jonquil. “I’m sorry about that. It’s been unbelievably crazy.”

  “And you want to spend every minute with Gage. It’s a rough time for him and you’re in love with him, so I’m surprised you bother to come home at night.”

  “We’re definitely not serious enough for overnights. Why would you think that?”

  Angela shot her a disbelieving look. “Come on. Once you stopped ignoring each other the chemistry went off the hook, and you came home tonight with hair that’s a total mess. Seriously, doesn’t he own a comb or something?”

  Jonquil touched her hair, which had been back in an elastic when she’d gone to his place, but she’d pulled it out while they talked in front of the game. “We didn’t do anything,” she said as she slid the elastic from her wrist back onto her hair.

  Angela eyed her. “Right. That’s why your lips are kind of puffy? Because you were sweet angels?”

  Jonquil smiled a little despite herself. He was an incredible kisser. “So we kissed, a lot. That’s all. And why do you care? I thought you were over him.”

  “Totally over him, but really, you just kissed?” She lifted her brows in disbelief.

  “Yes.” Jonquil stared at the cookie in her hands, which she hadn’t even tasted yet. “Okay, so the chemistry is… wow. But he doesn’t want a real relationship, so that’s where it ends.”

  “I’m not dating someone like that. If he’s not sure, then I’ll kick him to the curb.”

  Jonquil smiled. “Sometimes life surprises you. Just don’t be shocked when it t
hrows you for a loop.”

  “Whatever. You must be delirious from exhaustion and too many kisses if that’s what you think. Go to bed, will you? I have to be up before noon tomorrow. I need my beauty rest.”

  Jonquil scowled at her sister. She had several hours’ worth of reports to hassle over the next day and would be halfway through her ten-hour day before noon. “You’re a brat. Thanks for reminding me; I’d almost forgotten that about you.”

  Angela just smirked.

  Jonquil hid her smile as she stood. “Don’t have too much ice cream or you might not fit into that costume anymore.” She bit half of the cookie top as she headed for the basement stairs.

  “No worries there. Now if Mr. Checketts would just remember me in it. Life would be good. He lives only about a mile from my apartment in Chicago, you know?”

  Jonquil managed not to frown. He walked out in the middle of a date with her sister and she was still thinking about him? This was not good. “You deserve better than that. And you rocked the costume—half the men in the room were eating out of your hands.”

  “That’s the idea.” Her eyes twinkled. “Don’t worry. I don’t think Gage was one of them.”

  “I hope not or I’d have to kill him.” Jonquil wasn’t worried about that, not now, anyway. No, she was far more concerned that her own self-control would slip before he was able to get his life back under control. She couldn’t risk that final corner of her heart to him, not if there wasn’t a good chance he’d reciprocate.

  And he’d made it plenty clear earlier that he wasn’t looking at picket fences in their future. Not that she wanted a white picket fence. His fence suited her much better.

  Gage worked hard over the next couple of days, trying to keep his business running during the day, checking on Natalie—who spent every waking moment with one or another of her friends—and finalizing details for the funeral. He enjoyed Jonquil’s company for dinner and a movie the next night with Jeremy and Delphi in tow.

  He wasn’t sure if she had invited the second couple to join them because they were friends, or because she was trying to limit alone time with him. And he didn’t know which he wanted to be true. He just knew that being with her every evening and their goodnight kisses had him thinking twice about staying single. And that unsettled him more than it should have.

 

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