Cold River

by Carla Neggers

  He headed down the hall toward the sounds of the young, squealing Camerons. Hannah entered the lodge, her coat unzipped, her head bare, her long, fine hair pulled back. Sean noticed that some of the anger had gone out of her, but his reaction to her unnerved him. This time, all he wanted to do was sweep her away to his cottage through the snowy meadow, light a fire in the fireplace there and keep her safe.

  Well. That wasn’t all.

  He wanted to make love to her. He avoided glancing at his brother or Jo lest it showed in his eyes just what he was thinking.

  “I’m not staying,” Hannah said as she approached the fire, acknowledging him, Jo and Elijah with a stiff smile. “Nice to see you all. I’ll just get straight to the point. I came to tell you that I got to thinking about the foundation at your father’s cabin and decided to check it out. My father was a stonemason. A good one. I thought…”

  When she stopped, Elijah stepped closer to her. “Go on.”

  Her bruised cheek stood out against the glow of the fire. “I’ve been wondering how Drew found that old cellar hole and if he could have handled rebuilding the foundation on his own. I went up to see if being there would help me figure out the answers. It didn’t. That’s it. That’s all I know.”

  No one said anything. Sean realized they were fixed on Hannah. No wonder she was defensive and felt isolated, as if they were ganging up on her.

  He couldn’t let that deter him, and finally he said, “What about Bowie?”

  “What about him, Sean?”

  “He walked into the café yesterday, and you bolted up the mountain in twenty-degree weather by yourself.”

  “One thing doesn’t necessarily have to do with the other.”

  “In this case—”

  “I used to go out hunting cellar holes with my father as a kid. Bowie did, too. After my father died, I’d go out in the woods by myself. I’d find an old cellar hole and see a rosebush still growing by a stone wall, and I’d imagine myself back in time.” She paused. “I remember seeing your dad and Elijah hiking up on the mountain.”

  “I don’t remember that,” Elijah said.

  “You never knew I was there. I was hiding by a stone wall. Your father had you go on ahead, and he came back to me and saw me home.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Thirteen. That means you were seventeen.”

  “Did you ever find the cellar hole where Drew built his cabin?” Jo interjected.

  Hannah shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I don’t know if anyone else did.”

  “Bowie or your father, you mean.”

  Her turquoise eyes were cool and controlled, but Hannah reacted by straightening her spine, as if she knew Jo suspected her, knew she was still keeping secrets.

  Jo grabbed a black iron poker and stirred the coals in the fire as she spoke. “You hike up to the cabin and not thirty minutes after you’re back down the mountain, you hear someone calling your name, and you’re knocked over in the cemetery.”

  “Correct.”

  Jo set the poker back on its rack. “You’re protective of your brothers. Anyone in your position would be.”

  “My position?”

  “Devin’s just been through an ordeal. He was suspected of stalking another teenager and stealing—”

  “But he didn’t stalk Nora, and he didn’t steal. He was framed.”

  “He had a rough time after he found Drew’s body on Cameron Mountain. He was in some trouble—”

  “I’m not making excuses for him.”

  Sean exchanged a look with Elijah, but neither of them spoke, letting the federal agent and the budding lawyer go.

  “Devin found Drew when no one else could,” Jo said, “but he should have told one of us.”

  “I know.” Hannah’s voice was just above a whisper. “I’d give anything if I’d gone up the mountain instead of him. If I’d at least been with him.”

  Jo didn’t relent. “Then you of all people know that you should tell us what’s on your mind now, Hannah. What you know, what you theorize, what you suspect. What you’re afraid of.”

  Hannah tightened her hands into fists. Sean noticed her wince in pain and figured she must have momentarily forgotten about her injured wrist. She didn’t so much as glance at either him or Elijah. “What else, Agent Harper?” she asked.

  “How well do your brothers know Bowie?”

  “They hardly know him at all,” Hannah said, guarded, her emotions contained.

  “You want Bowie to be innocent.”

  “Of course. Don’t you?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  Elijah eased in next to Jo and winked at Hannah. “You don’t like being wrong, Hannah,” he said. “Never have. But we all are wrong sometimes.”

  She shifted to Sean. “What time do you need Toby and Devin to be ready?”

  Sean decided just to answer her. “I’ll pick them up at seven.”

  “They’ll be waiting for you on the front steps.” She turned back to Jo. “I have nothing to hide. I was curious about the cabin’s stonework and checked it out. Maybe we’ll never know how Drew found that cellar hole, or how he managed to build the cabin on his own.”

  “Or how those two killers found out about it,” Jo said quietly. “Do you have a theory of your own, Hannah?”

  “I imagine everyone in Black Falls has a theory.”

  Jo gritted her teeth visibly. “That’s not an answer.”

  “I told you what I know,” Hannah said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  No one stopped her as she walked back to the entrance. Once the door shut firmly behind her, Elijah fastened his gaze on Sean. “Go,” he said to his younger brother. “Talk to her.”

  Jo looked more exasperated. “Try to get past that stubborn pride of hers and make her understand we’re on the same side.”

  “Maybe we’re not,” Sean said. “Just now, Jo. What do you know?”

  Her eyes were distant. “Ask Hannah about her father,” she said, and turned, shutting out even Elijah as she gazed at the fire.

  Twenty

  Sean parked in the driveway of the house he owned in Black Falls, not on the street this time. When he got out of Elijah’s truck, the wind was even worse than up on the ridge, howling down from the summit of Cameron Mountain as if their father himself were steering it, trying to tell his third-born something—something he’d been trying to get through to him for a long time, but Sean kept missing it.

  Too many ghosts in Black Falls, he thought, heading in through the mudroom.

  The cellar door was open. He heard a scraping sound and went down the dusty stairs.

  Hannah was moving an old oak desk near the trunk and shelves of canning jars. “Hello, Sean,” she said, pointing vaguely at the floor. “I’m clearing space so Bowie can start work on the leak.”

  “When does he start?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” she said. “After you all head out to California. I first noticed the leak this fall. I’d open up the bulkhead periodically to get some air in here and let things dry out. There wasn’t much damage.”

  “Why didn’t you have Bowie look at it then?”

  She stood up from the desk, her front smeared with thick dust. “He wasn’t living in town at the time. He hadn’t started work on the culvert up at the cemetery yet. By then…” Her shrug was anything but casual. “It was right after Thanksgiving. I had enough to think about.”

  “If he’d noticed the bulkhead open and stopped by out of curiosity, would you have noticed?”

  “I noticed yesterday, didn’t I?” She drew a fingertip across the layer of dust on top of the desk. “I know what you’re getting at, Sean. I’ve had the same thought. It’s hard to believe Kyle Rigby or Melanie Kendall would risk stealing money from the café to set Devin up. Why not find an easier way? Whoever was paying them didn’t want his and Nora’s deaths seen as murders by a stranger. Two teenagers overwhelmed by their own problems get lost on Cameron Mountain…” She trailed o
ff and gave the desk a shove with her slim hips.

  “We can talk about this later,” Sean said. “Would you like some help with that desk?”

  “No, I think there’s enough room for Bowie to get back here. He can move whatever else he needs out of the way himself. I’m just looking for distractions.” She glanced around the dank cellar. “Tourists who stop at the café love that it’s in an old house. They’re drawn to the sense of history here. Is that why you bought it?”

  “I didn’t think much about it.”

  “Then it was just a good investment opportunity?”

  He smiled. “It’s not that good an investment. From what you’ve told me about your to-do list—”

  “Oh, my to-do list doesn’t even scratch the surface of what this place needs.”

  Sean settled his gaze on her and noted she was paler than usual, but she looked away, ducking behind the desk, squeezing between it and the old trunk as she stepped back under the dim lightbulb. She was closer to him now. He could see dust on her jeans and shoes, even a few cobwebs.

  She seemed unaware of his scrutiny. “Bowie’s place on the river is of no historic consequence, but it’s an old part of town,” she said. “He’s fixing it up. I’m surprised he wanted to go back there. He didn’t have it easy as a kid. Everyone loved his father, but they didn’t know what he was like in private—especially with his son.”

  “It’s hard to love people who aren’t good for you. Who hurt you.”

  Hannah brushed off the front of her shirt. “Bowie’s escape was to hunt for old cellar holes. It got him interested in historic stonework.”

  Sean glanced at the old cellar with its stone foundation. The exterior of the house was brick, and there was a hundred-year-old stone wall out back. The former tavern up at Four Corners had an old stone foundation and stone walls, too. He was familiar with “historic” stonework.

  Tobias Shay, Sean remembered, had laid the stone terrace at the lodge.

  He rubbed a rough, whole stone on the foundation, then turned back to Hannah, knowing he had to ask. “What was your father’s relationship with Bowie?”

  Her pale, pretty eyes were suddenly distant. “Did Jo tell you to ask me about him?”

  Sean nodded. “She did, yes.”

  Hannah remained very still. “He and Bowie got along well. He died when I was fourteen and Bowie was eighteen. He ran his car into a tree on an icy road.”

  “I remember.”

  Her expression was impossible to read, deliberately so, he thought. “Do you remember anything else about him?” she asked.

  “I was seventeen—”

  “No,” she said, answering for him, without a trace of bitterness. “There’s no reason you should. Most people don’t remember my father, and those who do don’t talk about him. I don’t talk about him. Devin and Toby have no memories of him at all.” With one hand, she batted the long string on the lightbulb and watched it swing into the dusty air. “I figure Jo looked him up or talked to her father about him.”

  “Why Chief Harper?” Sean asked.

  Hannah didn’t hesitate. “My father served time in prison when I was small. It’s not a secret—it’s just not something anyone ever talks about. People didn’t even talk about it when he was alive.”

  Sean recalled vague references to Hannah’s father, a gifted stonemason, having a troubled past. “Jo’s thorough,” he said. “It’s her job.”

  “I understand that. I figured when I was up at the lodge that she either knew about my father and hadn’t thought about him until Bowie turned up, or she asked her father. Chief Harper arrested my father at least twice.”

  “What did he do?”

  Her cheeks were pink now, her emotions high if in check. “Broke the law.”

  “Hannah—”

  “I try to focus on the good times I had with my father. He convinced my mother he’d gotten his act together when I was ten. She took him back, and they had Devin and Toby.”

  “Did he get into trouble again after that?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “When Nora Asher talked to Jo and Elijah after their ordeal on the mountain, she mentioned that Devin had told her that his father had abandoned his family.”

  “He must have heard that around town. I guess it’s true in a way, isn’t it? He never abandoned Devin and Toby, but he did my mother and me by doing stupid things and ending up behind bars.”

  Sean considered her words, tried to be objective about them—about her. It wasn’t easy. “It’s also possible Rigby played up your father’s past and put it out there to help raise suspicions against Devin.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I always studied hard and knew that getting a good education was my path to a different life than what my parents had. My father encouraged me. He was beset by demons I’ll never understand, but he didn’t want me to make the same mistakes he had.”

  “You’re worried about your brothers,” Sean said, seeing it now. “You don’t want them in trouble.”

  She grabbed a rag that hung on a nail and returned to the desk, dusting its scarred surface. “I hope going to California is the right choice for them.”

  “They’ll figure that out for themselves.”

  “They don’t have the same upbringing you’d had when you left Black Falls.”

  “Not the same,” Sean said, “but Devin and Toby know they have you behind them. Trust them. Trust yourself.”

  “I wish it were that simple.” She carefully wiped off the top of the desk. “I don’t know why I’m bothering. It’ll be dusty again in a day down here.”

  “Hannah, you’re an emotional mess.”

  “Just get my brothers safely to California.”

  “You could go with them.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. Not now. The next few days will be busy at the café, and then I have to get organized and start studying for the bar. Plus, Bowie will be working on the leak.” She made an attempt at a smile. “I keep hoping to find hidden treasure down here, but so far, there’s just a lot of junk and spiderwebs.”

  “Would you tell anyone if you found treasure?”

  This time, her eyes gleamed as she smiled. “I could buy a house next to yours in Beverly Hills and let you wonder how I got the money, except that’d never work. There are no secrets in Black Falls. The truth would find its way to you in California.”

  “There are loads of secrets in Black Falls. They’re just not that easy to keep.”

  She softened, even laughed a little. “Come on. I assume you’re having dinner at the lodge or out at Elijah’s, but I can at least give you one of our New Year’s cupcakes.” As she started past him for the stairs, she stopped next to him abruptly. “Your plane—do you fly it yourself?”

  “Not yet. I’m still learning.”

  “Is there nothing you can’t do, Sean Cameron?”

  Her tone was light, but he saw the discoloration on her cheek and the pain in her eyes, even as she smiled. “Figure you out,” he said, brushing his fingertip along the edge of her jaw. “I think I’ve been trying to figure you out since Latin class.”

  “You hated Latin.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  He tucked a finger under her chin, and when she didn’t run for the stairs, he lowered his mouth to hers. “Hannah,” he whispered, kissing her gently. She didn’t back away from his kiss or, at first, quite return it. Then she put her hand on his hip and kissed him back—but only for a half second, just long enough, he thought, to let him know that she wanted more.

  She stood up straight and swiped at a cobweb above her with a shudder. “I’ve gotten used to dealing with spiders,” she said, “but that doesn’t mean I like them.”

  Sean kept his gaze on her. “You can’t pretend this isn’t happening.”

  She grinned at him. “Yes, I can. I have a favor to ask you. And I didn’t let you kiss me because of it.”

  “You wanted that kiss,” he said.

  “Well, yes. Yes, I d
id, because it’s been just that crazy around here.” She seemed suddenly self-conscious. “I can’t deny or begrudge my brothers this chance in their lives, or blame them for wanting to get out of here, especially after what’s happened. Even without what happened—what can I offer them?”

  “You’re their sister.”

  “I don’t have a house in Beverly Hills with a pool,” she said lightly.

  “They’ll miss you.” Sean brushed the back of his hand over her cheek and onto her hair and was glad when she didn’t bolt for the stairs. “They’re teenagers. They’re not necessarily good at expressing that sort of thing.”

  “It’s not as if I haven’t known this day was coming. I want Toby and Devin both to figure out their lives.”

  “You have your own life to figure out.” He thought of his sister’s accusation about breaking Hannah’s heart and wished he hadn’t come down here—even as he acknowledged that he wanted to kiss her again.

  “When your brothers are in California and you’re here alone…” Sean hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “There’s still a killer out there. Don’t try to be a prosecutor before it’s time. You need to back off.”

  “You can tell Jo that my father was a positive influence on Bowie. Not a negative one. Or she can ask me, and I’ll tell her myself.”

  “You can trust me, Hannah. I hope you know that.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “It’s not just a question of trust.”

  “I should go,” she said.

  “Hannah—”

  But she finally ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time, fast.

  Sean moved the damn desk, just to get rid of some of his pent-up energy, then turned out the light and headed upstairs.

  Rose was waiting for him in the hall, frowning, eyebrows raised in suspicion as she spotted Sean. Ranger lay obediently at her feet. The golden retriever wagged his tale when he saw Sean, but his sister didn’t seem to take it as a vote of approval. “I’m decorating cupcakes with Beth, Dominique and Hannah,” Rose said. “They threatened to kidnap me if I didn’t get out of the house.”