Cold Pursuit

by Carla Neggers

  “You used to call me sweet pea at eighteen. I don’t think I liked it then, either.”

  “You loved it,” he said with a grin, brushing past her and trotting back down the stairs.

  Jo crushed her paper water cup and followed him at a more deliberate pace, her thighs feeling her five-mile run with Beth that morning and her fast trek up and down a decent chunk of Cameron Mountain. Her left side ached from her airsoft bruises—a well-timed reminder of why she was in Vermont in the first place.

  Elijah dipped behind the counter and disappeared through an open door into a small back room. Jo tossed her paper cup in a trash can, again thinking about the virtues of a trip to New Zealand. Elijah had fifteen years of military experience that had honed his natural skills as a leader and an independent thinker, but even before he’d joined the army, he’d had a remarkably positive mental attitude. All the Camerons did. They weren’t brooders. She wasn’t afraid of Elijah going off half-cocked, but that didn’t mean he’d do things her way. The past seven months had dealt him a tough hand.

  He came out of the back room and set a gray metal box on the counter, then opened it up. “A.J. keeps petty cash in here.” He flipped the box around, allowing Jo to see inside. Index cards, a few dollar bills and change. Then he said, “Three hundred dollars in fives, tens and twenties is unaccounted for.”

  “You mean it’s been stolen.”

  “Borrowed, stolen—it’s gone. A.J. noticed first thing this morning. Normally he doesn’t check the box every day, especially this time of year when it’s slow, but lately he has been.”

  “Because you asked him to keep an eye on Devin. You think he hasn’t told you everything he knows about your father’s death.”

  “He hasn’t,” Elijah said. “He skipped work this morning, too. A.J. called me. I checked the café first. Then I headed out to the Whittakers’ place. I didn’t know about Alex Bruni until Vivian Whittaker told me.”

  “Did you ask Devin about the missing money when you caught up with him?”

  “He said he doesn’t steal.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “I believe he’s holding back.” Elijah got still, his eyes half-closed on her. “But so are you.”

  Jo let that last comment slide over her and nodded to the box. “The key’s in the lock. No reason to even have a key if you keep it in the lock.”

  “I’m sure A.J. will thank you for pointing that out, Jo.”

  She stood back from the counter and looked up at a bright red kayak hanging from the ceiling. Why not rent it for tomorrow, go out on the lake before it froze and paddle to her heart’s content? Missing money, two teenagers with problems—why push herself into the middle of whatever was going on with Devin Shay, Nora Asher and the Camerons? Even Alex Bruni’s death in Washington wasn’t her concern.

  Elijah shut the cash box. “You need to level with me. Soon.”

  Jo’s throat felt tight. Maintaining professional distance and objectivity in her hometown was difficult. With Elijah, she didn’t even know why she tried.

  He returned the cash box to the back room and walked out from behind the counter. “I have a fair amount of experience with people who don’t want to talk.” He got very close to her. “What are you hiding from me, Jo?”

  She had to tell him about his father’s trip to Washington. What he’d said among the cherry blossoms about his fears for the second-born son, about his regrets. But not now. Not while Elijah was staring into her eyes. She could feel his tension and her own as she noticed a small scar on his jaw. It hadn’t been there when he was nineteen. What did she know about Elijah Cameron anymore? What had made her think she knew anything?

  “Jo.” He tucked a finger under her chin, nothing about him less intense. “Hell.”

  She could have done something to break the tension between them. Smiled, laughed, kicked him, started talking about hypothermia. Anything. But she didn’t, and when his mouth dipped to hers, her lips were already parted. This time it wasn’t a light kiss. It was fierce, hungry, his arms going around her as he drew her hard against him. Even through his jacket she could feel his muscles, the ruggedness of him as they gave, took, fired each other with their kiss.

  He caught her around the hips and lifted her, pressed her against him, and she could have stripped off every stitch on her—on him—right then and there.

  But he’d had that effect on her forever, and even as she moaned with wanting him, she knew it would be madness to give in to it.

  “Elijah,” she said.

  “I know.”

  He set her down, kissed her on the lips and walked out of the shop without so much as a glance back at her.

  Jo ended up helping herself to a pair of wool socks after all—she’d pay for them later—and tucked them into her jacket pocket as she left the shop, locking the door on her way out.

  The sky had darkened, just a hint of orange now on the western horizon. The air was still, very cold.

  She didn’t see her hawk.

  Elijah stood on the walk with his hands shoved into the pockets of his canvas jacket. “You’re a complication, Jo.” There was no desire or humor in his expression now, but no bitterness or anger, either. “You always have been.”

  “Does that mean you’d have kicked in Devin’s door if I hadn’t been standing there?”

  His gaze fell on her and the corners of his mouth twitched. “I was more tempted with you there.”

  He didn’t have to explain further. Devin’s room, Jo thought, had a bed. Not so cold now, she changed the subject. “It looks as if Devin’s spending the night on the mountain.”

  “If he is, he’ll need gear. He didn’t have a pack on him.”

  “Maybe he has one in his truck. Where is it?”

  “Not here—neither is Nora’s car. I’ll check up the road and see if they parked at any of the trailheads.” He looked out across the road toward Cameron Mountain. “Camping in these conditions is a serious business. Devin’s done it before. Nora hasn’t.”

  “They could both show up back here in time for dinner—”

  “A.J. will let me know if they do.”

  Jo gave an exaggerated shiver. “I’d be on my way by now. Just the thought of a bowl of hot beef stew in front of the fire would get me back down here. It’s freezing.”

  With his thumb and forefinger, Elijah took hold of the zipper tab to her fleece and zipped it all the way up to her chin. “It’s easier to stay warm than to warm back up.” His fingers lingered along the line of her jaw. “Go find yourself that stew and fire, Jo. Whatever’s going on with Devin isn’t your fight.”

  “Stay out of your way, you mean?”

  He stepped back from her and started across the frozen grass to the parking lot. “Be careful driving in the dark,” he said. “There’s not much ambient light up here at night. You’re used to the city.”

  He continued on to his truck, and Jo didn’t try to stop him or come up with a retort. She walked up to the lodge, and A.J., who must have been watching for her, joined her on the terrace. He had on a jacket this time, but his big shoulders were hunched against the cold—or more likely, with tension.

  “You and Elijah make a good team,” she said.

  He shrugged. “On certain things.”

  She noticed a light come on in a window above the terrace. The shades were pulled, softening the effect. “Many guests tonight?”

  “Six. They appreciate having the place to themselves.”

  “Is Lauren—”

  “She’s gone back to the house with the kids.” He and his wife were renovating an old farmhouse at the four corners up the ridge road. But A.J. obviously hadn’t joined Jo in the cold for small talk and moved right to the point. “Elijah told you about the money?”

  “Finally, yes. He should have said something sooner.”

  “Don’t blame him. I asked him not to. The lodge doesn’t need that kind of publicity. We’re being more careful.”

  “Does Lauren kno
w?”

  “No.”

  “You should tell her. And tell her Elijah thinks your father was murdered.”

  “Thank you for the unsolicited advice, Jo,” A.J. said coolly. “I’ll tell Lauren everything tonight when I get home. As for Elijah, he went through hell earlier this year. If he needs to ask questions, he can ask away as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Do you believe your father was murdered, A.J.?”

  He inhaled through his nose but otherwise showed no emotion. “You’re blunt, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “He died of hypothermia, that much we know. The rest…” He looked down as he ran the toe of his boot across the stone. “I’m not used to the world you and Elijah live in, Jo. Lauren isn’t, either. Our kids are little.”

  “Take care of your family. Let the police worry about anything else. Elijah needs to back off.” She hesitated, her eyes narrowed on Cameron Mountain, a dark, forbidding presence against the blackening sky. “I’m not in Elijah’s world, A.J. Your brother’s a warrior and a hero. I’m neither.”

  Her words seemed to take A.J. by surprise, but he was a man of supreme self-control. He raised his eyes to her. “A lot of people around here are proud of you, Jo.”

  “Not this week,” she said with a quick, light smile to cut the tension.

  “Maybe especially this week.” He seemed to try to return her smile but his didn’t quite take hold. “Elijah is fighting some tough demons. He could use an ally.”

  “You’re his brother—”

  “I’m not you.” A.J. spared her having to respond by muttering a good-night and heading back inside. When the door was safely shut behind him, Jo exhaled and shivered for real this time. “Yikes, it’s cold,” she said out loud, then bolted for her car. Time to get off Cameron land before she really lost her bearings.

  As she drove out along the ridge, the centuries-old sugar maples that lined the road stood out against the still, quiet landscape. She came to what everyone in Black Falls called the four corners, where the ridge road intersected narrow, twisting Cameron Mountain Road. It was the oldest settlement in town. An early-nineteenth-century, white-steepled church stood on one corner; on the corner across from it was a cemetery marked off by a stone wall. A stately, now weathered, clapboard building once used as a tavern occupied a third corner. It was owned by an elderly couple in town, but rumor had it Sean Cameron had his eyes on it. What he’d do with the place, Jo couldn’t imagine. As kids, she and her brother and sister had been convinced it was haunted.

  Just past the tavern, the house A.J. and Lauren were renovating, one of the prettiest houses in Black Falls with its graceful trees and mature gardens, was lit up as dusk gave way to night. Jo could have continued a half mile farther down the ridge road to the house where she grew up, and invited herself to dinner. Her father was an experienced law enforcement officer still tapped in to the goings-on in town. She could talk to him about Drew Cameron’s death, the hit-and-run in Washington that morning, Alex Bruni’s ties to Black Falls, Nora Asher’s impulsive camping trip, even Devin Shay and the missing money.

  What she couldn’t talk to her father about was Elijah Cameron.

  Not now, not ever.

  And having just kissed him twice in one day, Jo decided to turn off the ridge road and take the shortcut down the hill to town.

  It was dark on the mountain roads. She hadn’t forgotten.

  Black Falls wasn’t a hopping place on a cold November night. A popular bar owned by a longtime friend of the Cameron brothers looked busy and lively, and the library, located in a 1920s stone building on the green, was still open. A handful of cars were parked in front of the Three Sisters Café. It was closed for the day, but its lights were on.

  Jo pulled in behind her younger brother Zack’s truck. When she entered the café, she was greeted by the clean smell of citrus. Beth was scrubbing a table in the front window as Zack, a firefighter and the cause of numerous heartbreaks in the southern Green Mountains, stood over her, deliberately aggravating her by pointing out what spots she’d missed.

  Beth finally thrust her washrag at him. “You want to do this?”

  He grinned at her. He was solidly built, his hair darker than either Jo’s or Beth’s, his eyes more green than turquoise. And his smile was notoriously deadly. “For time and a half.”

  “A day-old chicken potpie.”

  “Sold.”

  From the clanging and the voices coming from out back, Jo assumed Dominique and Hannah were working in the kitchen. “I can help,” she said.

  Beth shook her head. “We’re almost done.” She reached into her bucket of sudsy water and plucked out another washrag. “We have a regular cleaning service, but we like to turn this place upside down ourselves every now and then. It hasn’t been a great day. We were all looking for something to do.”

  “Nora hasn’t been by, has she?” Jo asked.

  “No sign of her.” Beth seemed to make an effort to be cheerful and gestured toward the glass case. “There are two brownies left. Why don’t you help yourself.” Then she added, matter-of-fact, “You could bring one to Elijah.”

  Not one to turn down chocolate, Jo claimed one of the brownies and sat at a small square table while her brother and sister cleaned. “So,” she said, breaking off a piece of the dark, smooth, gooey brownie. “Tell me about Devin Shay these days. And whatever you know about Nora Asher. While we’re at it, Elijah Cameron.”

  Zack wrung out his washrag. “How long have you been back in town, Jo?”

  “Today’s my third day.”

  “Three days, and already trouble.” He set to work on a table with his usual tireless energy. “Devin needs to get his head screwed back on. Nora’s running from her problems, which just got worse. Elijah is Elijah, just with battle scars and not enough to do.” Her brother paused, and his gaze bored through her. “You might keep that in mind about Elijah.”

  Jo pretended not to hear him. “Have you had any problems with Devin?”

  “Not me, no. He’s rubbed Scott the wrong way a few times—deliberately.” Zack had never been one to shy away from speaking his mind. “He’ll figure out Nora’s just seeing what it’s like on the other side of the tracks, and he’ll feel even worse about himself. Then who knows what he’ll do.”

  “Hurt her?”

  “Nah. Not Devin. More like buy a bus ticket to Los Angeles.”

  Beth scrubbed hard, and Jo remembered her sister’s discomfort that morning and dived in. “Beth, is money missing from the café?”

  She dropped her rag in the bucket. “Hannah manages the café money. You can ask her.”

  In other words, Jo thought, yes, money was missing. “Does Scott know?”

  “He can ask Hannah, too.” Beth peeled off her rubber gloves. She didn’t look particularly intimidated, but she said, “Jeez, Jo, I can’t believe Charlie Neal had the nerve to pull a prank on you.”

  Their brother draped his rag over the side of the bucket. “Better get that second brownie, Jo,” he said.

  She turned just as Elijah came in, bringing a gust of cold air with him. He shut the door behind him and greeted Zack and Beth briefly, then said to no one in particular, “I found Nora’s car at the east trailhead. That’s a dry trail—it gets a fair amount of activity even this time of year. It leads to shelters. A good pick.”

  “Assuming she didn’t park there to mislead people,” Jo said, breaking off another piece of brownie. “What about Devin?”

  “He wasn’t back at the lodge when I left. I didn’t see his truck at any of the trails I checked. No sign of him here?”

  Hannah was the one to reply as she emerged from the kitchen. Strands of hair fell out of its pins as she rolled up an evergreen-colored apron into a tight ball. “Devin isn’t here, and he hasn’t been in touch.”

  From her cool, controlled tone, Jo suspected Hannah was aware her brother had gotten on the wrong side of the Camerons.

  Elijah didn’t look fazed. “What about Nora?�
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  “I haven’t heard from her since she left here this morning. She and Devin are friends. I know she’s upset about her stepfather, but if she’s with him, then she’s in good hands.” Hannah was sincere, quietly determined. “Maybe Devin’s just the person Nora needs right now.”

  But Jo noticed a fleeting uncertainty in Hannah that she doubted Elijah would miss. He stiffened visibly, and Jo jumped in. “Hannah, if there’s anything—you can tell us, we’re just trying to help.”

  She stared at her apron as she spoke. “Nora and Devin have more in common than you might think. They’re both uncertain of their futures and lack direction, goals. That’s normal at their age—any age, really.” She shook her head suddenly. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Jo could see that Hannah was reluctant to open up about any concerns she had about her younger brother and wasn’t going to make this easy.

  But neither was Elijah. He pounced. “Something’s on your mind, Hannah. Spit it out.”

  Hannah’s lips thinned—her version of throwing something at him. Jo got to her feet, ignoring Elijah and his narrowed eyes as she tried to reassure Hannah and get information out of her at the same time. “Have you noticed any change in Devin or Nora in recent days?”

  Hannah looked away. “I don’t want you making too much of it.”

  Meaning Elijah. Jo said, “Just tell us what you can.”

  Hannah walked over to a small table where Beth and Zack were silently pulling together their cleaning supplies and set her balled-up apron in an empty bucket. “Devin’s been working hard at the lodge. He’s figuring out what comes next for him. He knows losing Drew wasn’t the same for him as it was for his children, but still…” She couldn’t seem to finish.

  “It was a tough loss,” Jo finished for her.

  Hannah nodded, no sign of tears in her pale eyes. “It hasn’t been an easy year, but I have faith in him. Nora’s only been here six weeks. I’m not sure any place could live up to the fantasies she had about life in Vermont, but she’s very smart.” With a sudden awkwardness, Hannah pulled out a couple of pins, more strands of hair flopping into her face. She clutched the pins in one hand and took a breath. “I noticed a change about two weeks ago. I wasn’t alarmed. Nora came by one night and got on the computer with Devin. She was tense, secretive. I thought it was a passing thing.”