Cold Dawn bf-3

by Carla Neggers

  “Robert Feehan,” she said without hesitation.

  Nick wasn’t surprised. A.J. eased in next to her, looking grim as the first of the police arrived.

  Ten

  R ose did her best to keep her emotions in check with Scott Thorne and the two police officers from town who responded to Nick’s call. Her house hadn’t been tossed. The man who’d jumped Nick, presumably Robert Feehan, hadn’t gotten inside.

  As Scott and the two officers left through her front door, she could feel their mounting urgency to find Robert and talk to him. If he simply was in a panic, terrified because of Derek’s death, then why? If he believed he was in danger, all the more reason to turn himself in to police and tell them what he knew.

  Nick had refused even the idea of an ambulance, never mind a trip to the E.R. Rose wasn’t worried about him. He was an EMT. He knew he hadn’t been seriously injured. He’d started to build a fire, but A.J. had gruffly asked him to stay on the couch and was tackling the woodstove himself.

  Her brother and her former lover were a strong presence in her little house, she thought as she went back to the kitchen. She pulled more ice out of the freezer and wrapped it in a fresh, soft towel.

  “Maybe Robert thought you were breaking in,” she said, returning to the living room.

  Nick took the ice-filled cloth from her. “Why would he think that?”

  “He’s scared, on edge, because of Derek.” She stood back from Nick and added, “Because of you and why you’re here. Maybe he’s afraid you’re Jasper’s firestarter, or one of Lowell’s killers.”

  A.J. glanced back from the woodstove but said nothing. Nick placed the ice to his bloody scrape for half a second, then set it on the coffee table. “I don’t need more ice, but thanks.” His voice was even, unemotional. “How would either Cutshaw or Feehan have known about Jasper?”

  “I didn’t tell them if that’s what you’re asking,” Rose said, not defensively.

  “Just wondering if you have a theory. I didn’t see his car on the road when I turned up your driveway.”

  “Scott says he must have parked in the small turnaround just past my driveway. You can’t see it coming up the road. I use it when I can’t get up the hill because of freezing rain, sleet or whatever.”

  Nick settled back against the soft cushions of her couch. “Feehan knew I wasn’t an intruder,” he said. “He didn’t want to have to explain what he was doing here. I surprised him, and he smacked me with a shovel and took off.”

  Rose sat on a chair at the end of the couch. Ranger had taken the men in the house in stride and was curled up on his bed by the woodstove. Nick didn’t look that bad for someone who’d just been ambushed on icy steps. She frowned at him. “You’re lucky you weren’t hurt worse.”

  “It wasn’t luck,” he said lightly. “Feehan just wasn’t as good as I am.”

  “Ah. I see. So you don’t have a concussion or need stitches right now because of skill.”

  “You got it. If he wasn’t here for trouble, why didn’t he go up your driveway?”

  “A lot of people don’t like going up my driveway in winter.”

  “The guy teaches people how to downhill ski. He must be used to driving up mountains in snowy weather.” Nick studied her a moment, his injury having no apparent effect on his ability to focus. “Why are you defending him?”

  “I’m not. I’m trying to figure out what just happened. I have to keep an open mind.”

  A.J. adjusted the dampers on the woodstove. “You can’t stay here alone, Rose.”

  She bristled. “The police are looking for Robert. He won’t be back.”

  “Non sequitur,” her brother said.

  She shifted to Nick and attempted a smile. “A.J. gets even gruffer and bossier when he’s worried.”

  “He’s had a lot to worry about lately,” Nick said quietly.

  Rose jumped to her feet, ignoring both men as she sighed down at Ranger. “Well, fella, looks as if we’re back at the lodge again tonight.”

  Nick rose smoothly, steady on his feet, and stood next to her. “You can stay here. I don’t need to make the drive back to the lodge. I’ll camp on the couch out here by the fire.”

  A.J. turned from the woodstove. “Is this okay with you, Rose? You know you’re welcome to stay with Lauren and me at the house.”

  “I’m used to being on my own,” she said. “It’s probably a good idea for Nick to have someone within yelling distance, in case he’s hurt worse than he thinks.”

  Neither A.J. nor Nick argued with her rationalization, which she didn’t quite know how to interpret.

  “I’ll have your stuff sent over,” A.J. said to Nick.

  Nick thanked him and returned to the couch, and Rose followed her brother out through the back. The night air was frigid, but A.J. didn’t seem to notice as he paused on the steps. “Having Nick Martini here is maybe half a notch better in my mind than you being here alone.”

  “He’s not going to hurt me, A.J.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. What if Feehan’s right and Cutshaw’s death and Martini’s arrival in Vermont aren’t a coincidence?”

  “We don’t even know for sure if Derek was murdered—”

  “Yeah, right,” her brother said skeptically. “Why would Cutshaw have cared about Nick being in Vermont?”

  “I don’t know that Robert was telling the truth, or what Derek was thinking.”

  “Who else knew Nick was on his way to Vermont?”

  “Sean did.” Rose shivered in the cold night air. “Do you suspect him?”

  “I don’t suspect anyone. I’m asking questions.” A.J.’s gaze narrowed on her. “So are you.”

  “Nick’s asking the same questions,” Rose said.

  “Yeah. I know. Call me if you need anything.”

  She crossed her arms on her chest to stay warm. “This all will end, A.J. We can’t beat ourselves up because we didn’t figure out about Lowell Whittaker and his killers sooner. They wanted us to believe that Pop’s death was an accident.”

  “Elijah knew it wasn’t.”

  “In his gut, but it didn’t do any good until he had more to go on. He wasn’t here when it happened. He could put fresh eyes on the situation. He was almost killed the same week Pop died. He was tuned in, maybe.”

  A.J. looked out at Cameron Mountain rising behind her house, silhouetted against the night sky. “I’ve never wanted to live anywhere but here. I want my kids to grow up in Black Falls. I want them and Lauren to be happy and feel safe.”

  “They will, A.J. Black Falls hasn’t changed.”

  Her brother turned back to her. “Have you, Rose?”

  She hesitated, then said, “It’s been a rough year.”

  “You can talk to us, Rose. Sean, Elijah, me,” A.J. said. “Any one of us or all of us together. You know that, right?”

  “Always.”

  “You know it, but you don’t think you need to talk to anyone.” He let out a heavy breath. “Keep me posted. Be careful.”

  “I’m sorry about this, A.J.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  She didn’t respond, but she couldn’t help wondering if somehow it was her fault. She watched her oldest brother head down the steps and get in his car, his movements brusque, his concern—his fear—palpable. He’d been quiet during dinner. Even Lauren had been unable to get him to laugh and join in on their talk about winter fest, the sugar shack, the Neals’ return to Black Falls and when Jo Harper and Elijah would get married.

  Suddenly aching with the cold, Rose quickly ducked back through the mudroom to the kitchen.

  Nick was at the sink, rinsing a bloodstained dish towel. “If the blood doesn’t come out, I’ll buy you a new towel.”

  “I don’t care about that,” she said, kicking off her boots.

  He grinned back at her. “Mountain woman Rose.”

  “I can still take you to the E.R.”

  “Nah. I’m fine.” He left the towel in the sink. �
�I’m glad you weren’t the one who surprised him.”

  “Me, too, unless he just wanted to talk to me.”

  “Yeah. Talk. He grabbed you this morning, pinned you against a tree and shoved you in the snow.”

  “He could have done worse, or tried. I’d have defended myself. I know the woods up here better than he does.”

  Nick shook his head. “Not buying it.”

  She came closer to him and took a look at his injury, noticing the dark stubble of beard on his jaw, two small scars, his tanned skin. She tried to focus on where he’d made contact with the shovel. “It’s a pretty good scrape,” she said, “but there’s not much swelling. Damn, Nick. You really were lucky.”

  “Good,” he amended with a wink. “I was good. I landed a solid kick—”

  “It wasn’t hard enough,” she said, amused. “He still was able to run.”

  Nick put a palm to his heart in mock hurt. “Cut to the quick.”

  Rose laughed and pulled open the refrigerator door. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink? I have orange, grapefruit, tomato, pomegranate juice.”

  “So you weren’t kidding about pomegranate juice in your martini. You like that stuff?”

  “Yes, especially in a martini.”

  “Ha-ha. I’ll just stick with water. I should call Sean back and fill him in.”

  “I’ll call him.”

  She shut the refrigerator and went into her small back office. She’d arranged her desk to take advantage of the view of a giant, old sugar maple in her side yard. Ranger wandered in and sat at her feet, as if he were mystified as to why Nick hadn’t left yet. She dialed Sean from her landline. Of her three brothers, he was closest in age to her but had left for Southern California ten years ago. She’d been out there more than a dozen times and understood its appeal. Her father never had, but he’d always kept Sean close in his heart and hadn’t treated him any differently from his other children.

  Not until last month, when she’d watched him fall in love with Hannah, who’d never lived anywhere but Black Falls, had Rose realized that he’d come to feel as if he stood apart from their family and his hometown. But he didn’t stand apart and never had. She, Elijah and A.J. knew that, even if Sean didn’t.

  Elijah had left Vermont at nineteen, but for different reasons. He’d spent long months in war zones, risking his life. He’d butted heads with his father forever, but on some level they’d understood each other. Elijah had always wanted to come home to Black Falls. He’d never felt alienated from his family or his hometown.

  Of course, Rose thought, she and her brothers had never discussed any of this among themselves.

  Sean picked up immediately, clearly relieved as she updated him. “If Nick just got hit on the head, all’s well. He’s got a hard head.” But her brother’s gallows humor didn’t last. “Do you have any idea what Feehan would want with you?”

  “No, I don’t,” she said, aware of Nick leaning against the doorjamb.

  “Does Feehan know about whatever went on between you and Cutshaw?” Sean asked her.

  She took a sharp breath. “Sean—”

  “Elijah and I guessed in January that something happened between you two. Rose, come on. Relax. No one expects you not to have lived. Why should you be perfect?”

  “Maybe after this past year we’re not as hard on ourselves as we once were.”

  “Or on each other.”

  She noticed Nick’s eyes were half-closed as he watched her from the door. She wondered what secrets she was betraying simply by how she stood, how she looked at him.

  She smiled into the phone to help keep any self-consciousness out of her tone. “How’s Hannah?”

  “Worried,” Sean said. “She’s got on her prosecutor’s face.”

  Rose doubted her friend would ever become a Vermont prosecutor. It was the path taken, then changed by circumstance—namely, falling in love with Sean. “I’d like to talk to her.”

  While she waited for Hannah to come on the line, Nick withdrew back into the kitchen, giving her privacy. Ranger glanced at her, then, his tail wagging, followed Nick as if they were now best friends.

  “Rose,” Hannah said. “What on earth is going on?”

  “You don’t have to keep secrets from Sean,” Rose blurted. “Tell him what you know about Derek.”

  “He’s already guessed most of it, and I don’t know much. If you’ll recall, you didn’t go into detail.” Her friend sighed. “You’re a very private person, Rose.”

  “It’s one reason you and I get along so well.”

  “Beth and I can come back—”

  “No, enjoy the bougainvillea and the pool. Beth needs a break, and you and Sean have waited a long time for each other.”

  Hannah hesitated, then said, “Beth’s hurting over Scott, but she’s doing her stiff-upper-lip thing. We’re having a good time. Devin and Toby are coming by to see her. You should see Devin—he’s getting downright buff. He’s determined to become a smoke jumper. It’s a long route but wherever it takes him, it’ll be better than where he’s been. He has his own apartment now. Toby’s doing well with his host family. He’s in mountain-biking heaven. I think he’ll stay and graduate out here.”

  “Going out to California’s been good for all of you,” Rose said.

  Hannah had become her brothers’ legal guardian after their mother died when they were ten and eleven and Hannah just twenty-one. Their father had been dead for years. She remembered their lives in the isolated hollow, just downriver from Bowie O’Rourke, better than Devin and Toby did.

  “During the bar fight last year,” Rose said thoughtfully, “did you get the feeling Derek was deliberately trying to provoke Bowie?”

  “Maybe. Bowie didn’t care. He wanted to shut Derek up.”

  “How did Bowie take it when Lowell Whittaker tried to frame him for the pipe bombs?”

  “Bowie just wants to get on with his life, Rose.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She remained on her feet, restless. “Thanks. I didn’t mean to imply I suspect him of anything.”

  “I’m sorry if I sound defensive.”

  “Do you know what precipitated Nick coming out here?”

  “No, but I can guess.”

  “What? The investigation into Jasper Vanderhorn’s death? Did something come up after you and Sean got back last week and Nick decided to head to Vermont?”

  “Not that I know of,” Hannah said. “Rose, I think Nick’s in Vermont because of you.”

  She looked out the window but saw only her reflection against the black night. “Did he tell you that?”

  “He didn’t have to.”

  “Does Sean have any idea?”

  “Not a clue.”

  Rose could sense her friend’s smile but wasn’t smiling herself. “Please don’t do anything that would jeopardize their friendship on my account.”

  “That’s not your problem. You have to figure out what you want. Who you want. Nick and Sean live in a big world. Private planes, money.”

  And women, Rose thought, but now she made herself smile. “Does that mean the prospect of bicoastal living in Vermont and California doesn’t scare Sean?”

  Hannah laughed softly. “Not in the least.”

  “What about you, Hannah? Does it scare you?”

  “It did for about five minutes. Sean and I can make this work,” her friend said. “I’ve never been so happy. I hope you can be happy, too, Rose. No one deserves it more.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Easier said than done. But you should go. You must be exhausted.”

  “Thanks. Say goodbye to Sean for me.”

  Nick had stretched out on the couch, leaning back against pillows he’d arranged behind him. “This’ll work. Hurts less to sit up, and I’ve got a strategic view of the door should anyone else pay you a visit.”

  “You’re not armed.”

  “I could go find your snow shovel,” he said lightly, then nodded to a pair
of her shoes by the fire. “Or I could throw one of your shoes. What are those things?”

  “Waterproof running shoes. They’re good in the snow.” She felt hot, but was amused. “I can wear starlet high heels, you know. Christian Louboutin, Manolo Blahnik, Jimmy Choo. I can’t buy them in Black Falls, but I get to Boston on a regular basis. I know what they are.”

  “Can you walk in four-inch heels?”

  “Not on my driveway in the snow, but I could manage quite nicely at a Beverly Hills cocktail party. In fact, I have. Sean took me once.”

  Nick was clearly unimpressed, as well as skeptical. “You’ve never worn four-inch heels in your life.”

  She grinned. “All right, two inches.”

  “Where would you wear heels around here?”

  “More places than you obviously think. For instance, there’s a dance at the lodge during winter fest.”

  “Hell, shoot me now.”

  “Why, Nick Martini, what a snob you are.” Rose lifted a log out of the woodbox. “I don’t care if you’re a hotshot smoke jumper, you’re actually more Beverly Hills these days. I can see you waltzing into some cocktail party with a babe on each arm.”

  He settled deeper into the pillows. “I might have a few pictures of me just like that.”

  She set the log on its end on the stone hearth and lifted the lid on the top of the stove. “If I’m just one of the guys—some mountain woman in sensible shoes—why did you sleep with me?”

  “We needed each other that night.”

  He spoke softly, his tone even and unemotional, as if he were stating a simple, indisputable fact. Rose dropped the log on the fire, almost choking it out, and reached for the poker. “I know why I needed you,” she said, shifting the log, rekindling the flames. “Why did you need me?”

  “You just asked and answered your own question.” His voice was steady, and she could feel his eyes on her. “I needed you because you needed me.”

  She shut the lid on the fire and returned the poker to its rack. “That’s it, huh?”

  “That’s it.”

  She dusted bits of wood off her hands and turned around, feeling an immediate jolt at the unbridled sexiness of the man on her couch. His dark eyes, his flat stomach and long, muscular legs. She felt the heat of the fire behind her and decided it wasn’t helping. Moving away from the woodstove, she pushed back a faint sense of irritation at herself that she was still attracted to him.