“When the Neals were in town—”
“Damn, Rose, you think I had anything to do with the Neals when they were here?”
She reined in a burst of impatience. “Did anyone ever brag about seeing them? You know, tales told to the bartender?”
“No one said anything to me about the Neals, beyond talk about Charlie Neal’s prank on Jo Harper last fall that got her back up here. Everyone thought that was hysterical.”
Which would mortify Jo. “What about me?” Rose asked quietly.
“You mean has anyone been crying in their beer to me over you? There was gossip about you, but you’re a Cameron. There’s always gossip about you all. You’re out there, Rose. You do search and rescues all over the country.”
“My work’s not glamorous, Liam,” she said, feeling defensive. “I’m doing more and more training and consulting these days. I don’t want to give up the volunteer work, but Ranger’s getting on in years. I haven’t decided yet if I want to train another dog for myself. I think he prefers wilderness work. Disaster work is hard on both of us.”
“It’d be hard on anyone.” Liam seemed to relax slightly and hung his jacket on a metal hook. “A lazy life with a bone by the woodstove is in Ranger’s future. Was he a help this morning?”
“He’s always a help.”
Rose stood up straight. “I wish someone had whispered a secret in my ear that would explain everything and stop more violence and tragedy.”
“Did you think Derek was getting his act together?”
“I’m not sure he was capable of reforming,” Liam said, changing out of his winter boots to regular shoes. “I don’t know what to say, Rose. Getting pounded by Bowie may have helped Derek get some perspective. He hadn’t been in trouble since then that I know of.”
Rose thanked him and went out the back door and around to Main Street, debating a moment before heading to the café. She entered the building through the center-hall door and peeked into the dining room, where Myrtle Smith was still alone behind the glass case, dealing with the lunch crowd and looking restless. Rose continued down the hall to the ladies’ room.
Her reflection made her grimace. She peered into a mirror that Hannah and Beth had found at a yard sale and saw that she had smudges of soot on her face. Her skin was windburned but pallid, with dark shadows under her eyes that showed the strain of the morning.
Figured no one had told her she was a mess.
She cleaned up and slipped into the kitchen. Dominique was alone, her cheeks flushed as she pulled a pan of steaming roasted vegetables from the oven.
Rose tried to stay out of the way. “How are you doing?”
“How am I doing?” Dominique slammed the pan onto a cooling rack on the counter. “A man is dead, Rose. I’m lucky I’m not dead.”
“Dom, you and Robert weren’t—”
“We weren’t anything. He’d come in here. I’d see him. Same with Derek. Not often.” She tossed her pot holders onto a pile by the stove. “I told the police.”
“Were you friends?”
“Friends? What’s a friend? Lowell and Vivian Whittaker used to come in here, too. They acted as if we were their friends. We were all taken in.” Dominique washed her hands in the stainless-steel sink. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.”
“Something’s going on with you, Dom,” Rose said quietly. “Whatever it is was there even before you went out to the lake this morning.”
Dominique briskly dried her hands with a soft cloth. “Nothing’s going on. Forget it. I have work to do. Please excuse me.”
“Dom—”
“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time this morning. I surprised Robert. He panicked.” She snatched up a long-handled spoon and stirred the vegetables. In summer, she’d use fresh local produce when she could. “If he and Derek were preying on vulnerable young people, selling them prescription drugs…”
“Were you trying to expose them?”
“I’m not a police officer. I’d heard rumors. Bowie had, too. I told the police everything I know, which, fortunately or unfortunately, is very little.”
Dominique set the spoon on the counter and returned to the worktable, making it clear she didn’t want to talk, but Rose continued to press her. “You were at the Whittaker place yesterday and the cabins this morning—”
“I know where I was,” Dominique said irritably.
“Why were you there, Dom? I’ve never known you to run out at the lake.”
“I signed up for a half marathon in June. Jo and Beth Harper run there. Beth showed me their route.” She stared down at her hands on the butcher-block table. “And because I wanted to talk to Bowie. I wanted to see if we could figure out where Robert was.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to convince Robert to talk to the police before he ended up like Derek.”
“Then you don’t think he killed Derek and accidentally killed himself?”
Dominique, calmer, shook her head.
“Robert could have fooled everyone,” Rose said. “He could have pretended to be a carefree ski instructor when, in fact, he was one of Lowell Whittaker’s killers. He could have realized he was caught and went out the way he wanted to.”
“I don’t know whether it’s more frightening to think that Robert was one of Lowell’s killers, or that he wasn’t. If he wasn’t, there’s someone else still out there.”
Rose leaned back against the counter. “You tend to stick close to home.”
“I’ve been working on my house.”
“You hardly ever go out, Dom.”
She raised her brown eyes. “Are you suggesting I’m hiding something?”
“Asking.”
She twisted her hands together. “Nothing that matters.”
“Whatever you’re hiding, Dom, people are going to find out. It’s hard enough to keep secrets around here when things are normal.”
Dominique shut her eyes briefly, then spoke without looking at Rose. “I was married for about five minutes four years ago.” She paused, rubbing her fingertips over the butcher-block tabletop. “He had money. Has. He’s not from around here. Cleveland. He’s an alpine skier, though. He loves Vermont. He took lessons from Derek. I did, too.”
“Dom, as far as secrets go…”
“I got involved in prescription drug abuse,” she said quietly. “I’m clean now. I have been for four years. Belair’s my maiden name. I found myself in cooking—and here,” she added, her voice cracking, “with you all.”
Rose steadied herself against Dominique’s admission. “Bowie knows?’
She gave a small laugh. “Bowie knows everything that happens around here, I swear.”
“True,” Rose said, still not satisfied. “Where’s your ex-husband now?”
“Still in Cleveland. He’s remarried. He’s not a bad guy, we just weren’t right for each other. We were both spoiled.”
Rose saw it now. “You come from money.”
Dominique’s eyes lowered. “I’m what you all would call a ‘trust fund baby.’ I didn’t want anyone to know. I wanted to be known for myself, for who I am.”
“Don’t we all, Dom? Give us a little credit.”
“I do now. It just became easier to keep not saying anything.”
Rose felt her energy sagging. “I can’t argue with that,” she said softly. “The police know?”
“Everything, yes.”
“Bowie?”
“He guessed,” Dominique said.
“He’s good at keeping other people’s secrets.”
“Maybe we ask too much of him, or he asks too much of himself.” She stood back from the worktable. “I really do have things I need to do.”
Rose smiled. “Cook to your heart’s content, Dom.”
When she reached Main Street, Rose noticed the air was warmer, above freezing. Nick would be back at the lodge by now.
No sooner did she have the thought than he called. “Do you want me to pick you up?”
&n
bsp; She spotted Bowie’s beat-up van down the street. “Thanks, but I’ll get a ride. Be back soon. What are you doing?”
“Thinking and making calls. I brushed Ranger. He didn’t like it.”
“He never does.” Rose didn’t ask any follow-up questions and disconnected, walking down to Bowie’s van. He was climbing in. “What’re you doing in town?” she asked him.
“Stopped to see Liam to see what he knew about the fire. He said I just missed you.”
“Have you talked to the police?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Then you know Dominique was attacked?”
“I stopped by to check on her, but she was busy. I talked to her for two seconds, probably while you were with Liam. She’s pretty shaken up.” Bowie narrowed his eyes on Rose for half a beat. “You are, too.”
“I don’t deny it. Can you give me a ride up to the lodge?”
He nodded. “Where’s Ranger?”
“Nick hiked back up to the lodge. Ranger went with him.”
Rose shoved stuff off the van’s front passenger seat and got in. The interior smelled like mud and cold, wet stone—at least not like gas, she thought.
They passed the police station. “Every cop in town must be out at the lake,” Bowie said.
“Probably so.” She stared out the side window at the familiar landscape of her hometown. Snow had melted into her wool socks. She’d unzipped her coat, but she was still too warm. “When you were in that fight at O’Rourke’s, did you ever imagine Derek and Robert would be dead in less than a year?”
“I wasn’t thinking about the future. I was locked in to the idea that I needed to punch Derek in the head.”
She couldn’t help but smile at Bowie’s irreverent tone.
But his eyes were serious when he glanced over at her. “That fight’s in the past, Rose. It’s not why Derek and Robert are dead.”
“You protected me last year.”
“You can look at it that way, but I wasn’t really thinking. I was mad. Derek was out of control. I reacted.”
“I keep wondering if I’d confronted my problems, maybe things would have gone differently this year.”
“Don’t go there. We are where we are. Whether or not it’s where we would be if we hadn’t dealt with these bastards doesn’t much matter.”
They drove up the mountain in silence. As they came to the lodge, Rose said, “I miss Hannah.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
“I miss her, but I’m glad she’s with Sean and not here now, for this.”
“You’re her friend. I talked to her earlier. She wants to be here for you. Beth, too.”
“You told them to stay in California, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. Do your work, Rose. Let the police do theirs. You’re a can-do type, just like your brothers, but sometimes you have to know your limits. We all do.”
“It’s easier on a search than with something like this. It all feels so out of control, with no rules.”
“There are rules. Rule one—you don’t get to kill someone. Rose, you okay with this guy?”
“I can handle him.”
“Could he have set the fires? It only takes a cell phone to detonate a simple homemade bomb.”
“It wasn’t Nick, Bowie. Absolutely not.”
Bowie grinned at her. “See? There’s an attraction there.” He pulled into the lodge parking lot and glanced in back at Poe. “Look at him. Not a peep out of him. Ranger’s influence.”
“Ranger’s not perfect, you know,” Rose said. “Poe looks tired. Did you have him out running this morning?”
“He charged around while I was working. He’s in good shape. He’s just lazy. The vet said he needed to lose weight, so I’ve been getting him out more. It’s good for me, too.”
“Dominique said she was meeting you at the lake this morning. What happened? Where were you?”
“Late,” he said, his voice heavy with regret.
“Why?”
He threw the van into Park and looked over at her. “I made a stop to give an estimate. It took longer than I expected. The police have all the details. You want them, too, Rose?”
“I’m not doubting you. Don’t get defensive. I just wanted to know.”
“Maybe you want to know too much. Maybe you should get on a damn plane and go train dogs in Alaska or something. I worry about you, Rose.”
She let his worry roll over her. “Thanks for your concern. Bowie, are you and Dominique seeing each other?”
“She and Poe are both trying to get in shape. She wants to run a half marathon this summer. Nothing more than that.”
“I grew up here. I can be private all I want and it won’t do me any good. Everybody’s always sticking their noses in my business.”
He grinned at her. “Like you’d have it any other way.”
“You’re a good friend to have, Bowie. Thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime.”
“Want to come in?”
He shook his head. “I have work to do. Call or come find me if you need a friend.”
Rose promised she would and thanked him as she got out of the van.
She spotted A.J. down by the shop and walked in that direction. He was pacing, clearly agitated, and she assumed it was because of the scene at the lake. He shoved a hand through his hair. “I can still smell smoke,” he said. “Damn.”
“I’m sorry, A.J.”
“Yeah. Me, too. I’ve been trying to sort everything out in my own mind. I don’t see how a couple of ski-bum drug dealers had anything to do with the death of that woman in California and this missing actor.”
“We can come up with a thousand different scenarios if we want to.” Rose recognized a middle-aged couple ski from the lodge on the groomed trails in the meadow. “Most guests won’t associate what happened at the lake with the lodge. It’s far enough away—”
“They could see the smoke from the dining room.”
“A fire in the middle of winter, down in the valley. It’s understandable they’d look.”
“A fatal fire on top of another fatal fire just the other day.” Her brother stared at a display of winter sports gear in the shop window. “I’d hoped winter fest would be a fresh start for everyone in town.”
“It still can be,” Rose said. “There’s time to figure out what’s going on and put an end to it.”
“That’s what we keep saying. It’s what we said in November when Jo and Elijah confronted those two killers. It’s what we said in January when Hannah and Sean figured out Lowell Whittaker was behind this network of assassins.”
“The lodge is busiest in the warm-weather months. By then, most people aren’t going to remember if this all happened in another town, or even know that it happened at all. We’re in the middle of it. We’ll know. I’ve been to the scene of so many disasters—”
“This isn’t a natural disaster.”
Rose sighed. “I’m not helping, am I? Okay. I’m going to find Ranger.”
A.J. shifted back to her. “Lauren panicked when she heard sirens and saw smoke. I don’t know how much more of this she can take.”
“She’s strong, A.J. So are you.”
“She’s scared.” He let out a breath, shook his head. “Never mind. We’ll get through it. You just concentrate on staying safe yourself. When you radioed this morning and I saw the smoke…” He stood up straight and managed a small smile. “I was glad Nick was with you.”
She grinned at him. “Ha, the faith my brothers have in me.” She touched his arm. “We’re going to be okay, A.J. You know that, right? Whatever happens.”
“Yeah,” he said, and followed several guests into the shop.
As she headed back up to the main lodge, Ranger bounded toward her with the energy of a puppy. Nick’s influence, she decided, her heart jumping when she saw him ambling toward her.
She believed what she’d said to A.J. They’d be okay. What other choice was there?
Twenty
Beverl
y Hills, California
G rit could tell the Black Falls women were restless, frustrated that they were on the other side of the continent while so much went on at home. Sean was more accustomed to not being in the eye of his hometown storms but the events of the day had clearly disturbed him, too.
The fire at Jo Harper’s cabins on the lake—Robert Feehan’s death, Dominique Belair’s near death—bothered everyone.
The cabin Grit had stayed in had burned, but he wasn’t nostalgic. He figured the accursed woodstove had probably made it through just fine.
Devin and Toby Shay arrived at Sean’s house, and Grit was of a mind to leave them and Beth there while he and Sean drove out to the Cameron & Martini building that had burned a year ago.
Beth had other ideas. Testy and silent, she climbed, uninvited, into the back of Sean’s car and put on her seat belt.
Sean glanced at Grit, as if seeking his wisdom on what to do. Grit shrugged. “How far is this place?”
“Twenty minutes, longer if traffic’s bad.”
As far as Grit could see, traffic was always bad. He figured he could handle thirty minutes with Beth biting her nails in back. Let Sean be the one to kick her out. “Drive on.”
Sean gritted his teeth and steered his expensive sedan out of the driveway.
Grit turned to Beth in the backseat. “Have you talked to Trooper Thorne?” She just stared out her window. He tried again. “Your brother? Your sister? Rose? Dominique?”
“I don’t want to talk.”
That could work, Grit decided, and turned back around. Seventeen minutes later, they pulled into a small parking area by a three-story Art Deco building that Cameron & Martini had saved from the wrecking ball, refurbished and still owned.
There’d been a fire during renovations. Nick Martini’s quick actions had almost certainly saved the building.
Sean led Grit and Beth into a cool, elegant lobby, no indication that there’d been a fire or that the place had ever needed renovating. Sean said, “The fire was last January, months before Jasper Vanderhorn was killed.”
“Your sister was just getting involved with Cutshaw then,” Grit said.
Beth stiffened visibly, but Sean was calm. “I don’t see how the two could be connected.”
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