Cold Dawn

by Carla Neggers

  “Is he armed?”

  “I don’t think so. He didn’t have a pack with him. He could have hidden one, though.”

  “Elijah and Jo are right behind me. They’ll have talked to Sean by now. He and Grit Taylor found Trent Stevens, the missing actor.”

  “Alive?”

  Nick nodded. Ranger barked, the ridge of hair on his spine standing up. He growled, uncharacteristically. Nick saw the branches of another hemlock stir and immediately put himself between Rose and whoever was coming around the tree.

  “Nick,” she said, getting Ranger back to her side.

  He eased the mallet out of his pocket. “I see.”

  Brett Griffin emerged from behind the hemlock, stumbling—pretending to—in the snow. “Rose, thank heaven. Are you all right? What happened?”

  “Keep your hands where I can see them, Griffin,” Nick said, raising the mallet. He wondered what this murderous pyromaniac had on under his jacket, in his pants, his gloves, his shoes. He’d want to get them close and then make his move. “I’m a real firefighter. I’ll nail you in a heartbeat if you so much as breathe wrong.”

  Brett seemed mystified. “What did Rose tell you? I took a tumble and she was kind enough to come help me. Then she fell and I came down here to help her.”

  Rose was having none of it. “You bastard, you came down here to make sure I’d bashed my head against a rock and wouldn’t get in your way anymore. Were you going to set me on fire if I wasn’t dead?”

  Brett straightened, wincing as if he were in pain. “I think I banged my knee pretty good. Rose, yeesh. What’s got into you? I thought you were dead. You’re damn lucky you’re not. Was it something I said?”

  Nick pointed the mallet at him. “Just stay still.”

  “Rose is hysterical.” Brett sniffled as if he were winded. “I can see now that my friendship with Robert and Derek has finally come back to haunt me. I was afraid it would. I never should have come back to Black Falls.”

  “You can tell your story to the police,” Nick said.

  “Fine, I will. I’m not even insulted. Tell them I’ll meet them at my house.”

  Nick couldn’t detect any odor of gas in the crisp air. “You’re good, Griffin. Jasper said you were. He said you know how fire works.”

  “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

  “Fire moves to find oxygen. It’s like it’s alive, isn’t it?” Out of the corner of his eye, Nick noticed that Ranger had eased off into the woods, back down toward the road, undoubtedly on Rose’s command. “To control fire and make it do what you want it to do takes real skill.”

  “I’m a photographer,” Brett said calmly. “I don’t know anything about fires. I’m not even that good at lighting a woodstove.”

  “Jasper Vanderhorn was a friend of mine,” Nick said. “He was an arson investigator. You killed him. He was closing in on you, wasn’t he? He wasn’t just an irritant. He was a threat.”

  Brett continued playing his role as the meek, injured, misunderstood photographer. “I’m going home before I come down with hypothermia.” He nodded to Rose. “You should, too. We can talk after you’ve had a chance to calm down. I know how jumpy everyone is around here. I am, too.”

  “We have you, Griffin,” Nick said. “We know you stole Feehan’s identity.”

  “You’re talking crazy.”

  “You killed Robert Feehan and Derek Cutshaw. They were fools to you, weren’t they? Nuisances who interfered with your plans.”

  “Just because you’re a rich smoke jumper doesn’t mean you can bully me.”

  “I’m not bullying you. I’m telling you. You were in California earlier this week. You killed Portia Martinez. You knew she’d figure out you weren’t who you said you were. Had she already? Did she threaten to call the police?”

  Brett steadied his gaze on Nick. “I’ve never heard of Portia Martinez.”

  “You’ve been worried about me for a while. Once Trent told Portia I was on my way East, you knew you had to act. But you always knew you’d kill Derek and Robert.”

  His eyes went cold. “I have work to do. I’m glad Rose is safe. Now leave me alone. I’ve tried to ignore the paranoia of the people here, but I’m done.”

  “Uh-uh,” Nick said calmly. “Stay right where you are.”

  Brett turned to Rose. “Tell him, Rose. Tell him you don’t suspect me of anything.”

  “Why did you come back to Black Falls?” she asked.

  “I don’t know now. It was a stupid move on my part, obviously. I don’t recall any of you people asking about me or my life.”

  “You were here originally to keep an eye on Lowell, but you came back because of the Neals,” she said. “How obsessed are you with Marissa? Enough to have pictures of her in your house up the road? I hope so. They’ll be all Jo needs.”

  His eyes settled on her. “Just stay away from me.”

  She didn’t relent. “Were you already a serial arsonist when you hooked up with Lowell? How many fires had you set? How many people had you killed already?”

  Brett laughed. “You are such fools.” His eyes gleamed. “Do you think I don’t have a contingency plan? There’s a bomb at the café. It’s just like the ones I taught Lowell to build. Not in person, of course. He has no idea who his fire and bomb expert is. You let me go about my business and I don’t set off the bomb. I let you find it. Be heroes.”

  Nick stepped toward him. “How do you plan to set it off?”

  He held up his left hand. “Dead man’s switch in my glove.”

  Nick knew it was possible. He saw that Rose knew, too. She gulped in a breath. “Nick.”

  “Don’t get too cocky, Griffin,” Nick said and decided on his own bluff. “Elijah Cameron’s at the café. He headed straight there after Grit Taylor and Sean reported in about Trent Stevens. Think a Special Forces master sergeant is going to miss your little bomb? Other people know about bombs around here. You’re not that special.”

  He knew that would get Brett. “Trent Stevens is a self-absorbed idiot. He knows nothing about fires. He was happy to brag about Marissa Neal. Her fire was an accident. Jo Harper’s heroics saved the day.”

  “That’s how you became obsessed with Marissa Neal,” Rose said.

  Brett inhaled through his nose. “Don’t think you’ve won.”

  “What’re you going to do,” Nick said, “set yourself on fire?”

  Brett snapped his elbow against his side. Nick smelled gas and realized Brett had broken open some kind of container under his jacket.

  He remembered Jasper’s words a year ago: “This guy will want to go out in a blaze of glory. No prison for him.”

  Moving fast, Nick leaped to Brett just as flames erupted from inside his jacket, flashing brightly against the white and gray landscape. He locked his eyes on Nick in defiance.

  Unimpressed, Nick dropped Brett with the mallet and shoved him facedown into the snow, snuffing out the fire in a matter of seconds.

  There was no dead man’s switch in Brett’s glove.

  Rose was barely breathing. “You knew he was bluffing.”

  Nick winked up at her. “Myrtle Smith survived one of this bastard’s fires. She lives above the café. Think she doesn’t sweep the place for bombs?”

  “She told you?”

  “Yep.”

  “That Myrtle,” Rose said, just as Ranger reappeared along with her two brothers and Jo Harper, her gun drawn, right behind him.

  Twenty-Eight

  Beverly Hills, California

  Three days later, Nick was stretched out on a lounge chair at Sean’s pool in the Southern California sun. Grit Taylor was there. Sean and Hannah. Beth Harper, still.

  Grit stood at the edge of the pool in his cargo pants and lightweight sweatshirt and glanced back at Nick. “The mountains of northern New England call, don’t they? You and Rose are a smart and dedicated pair, and you’re rich. You’ll figure it out.”

  “What’s rich got to do with it?” Nick asked
him.

  Grit shrugged. “The transcontinental thing. Vermont and California. Long way between them.”

  “You must have been hell on a battlefield.”

  “Us navy boys,” Grit said with a grin.

  Sean was more pensive. “Jasper didn’t screw up. Neither did we. He got beat by a bad guy.”

  “Jasper was right about a serial arsonist,” Nick said. “Brett enjoyed setting fires, but he was never a firefighter or tried to become one. It wasn’t that he could or couldn’t cut it.”

  “Jasper never suspected you, Nick,” Sean said. “Or at least not for more than three seconds.”

  Three seconds too many, but Nick didn’t blame Jasper. He blamed Brett Griffin. “Griffin was from Chicago. Abusive father, narcissistic mother.”

  Grit glanced around at them. “So? No excuses.”

  Nick nodded. “His photography allowed him to move freely. He started passing himself off as Feehan last year. He’d already been contracting his services as part of Lowell Whittaker’s network. Griffin’s the only one of Lowell’s killers to figure out who he was.”

  “Griffin knew the Whittakers had a place in Black Falls,” Sean said. “He’s why Lowell panicked. Lowell knew he had a committed arsonist on his hands who’d kill him if he left any loose ends. I doubt Lowell had any idea who it was.”

  “Griffin manipulated Derek Cutshaw and Robert Feehan.” Nick pushed back images of their two burned bodies. “Scott Thorne and Jo found pictures at Griffin’s house that he’d taken of Rose with me last June. We figure he used them to get under Cutshaw’s skin. He and Feehan were asking too many questions, becoming a problem with their drug-dealing.”

  “Griffin used your arrival in Black Falls as a way to get rid of them and give you Jasper’s firebug,” Sean said.

  Grit looked up from the pool. “Griffin had an excuse to set those fires. More fun for him.”

  Nick rolled to his feet, restless. “He liked being apart, watching the action.”

  The SEAL stared again at the clear water of the pool. “He loved the drama he created.”

  “He made sure that boy wandered off last year.” Nick remembered the alert going out, having no idea then, that Rose would be the one who found the boy, or even would be a part of the organized search for him. “He wasn’t supposed to survive. He and Rose were supposed to die in the same fire as Jasper.”

  “Brett liked the drama,” Grit said, “and he liked showing up you smoke jumpers. You two played a key role in stopping that fire from spreading.”

  Beth finally spoke. “Jasper Vanderhorn died, but Brett didn’t want what he saw as a partial victory. You and Rose spoiled his fun.” Her turquoise eyes leveled on Nick. “When do you go back to Vermont?”

  He didn’t answer, just picked up his keys and left.

  He drove over to his condo in a high-rise just off Wilshire Boulevard.

  They’d caught Lowell’s most elusive and mysterious killer. It was over.

  Nick walked into his bedroom and everything there reminded him of Rose.

  Hell, he thought. Nothing was over.

  Grit drove with Beth Harper down to Coronado, showing her where he’d trained. “I was a different man then. A kid, really.”

  “You got the name Grit here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who gave it to you?”

  “Another SEAL. We trained together. Michael Ferrerra.”

  Beth’s eyes were clear, and she didn’t look away. “He’s the SEAL who died in the firefight that almost killed you and Elijah.”

  “We called him Moose.”

  Grit took winding roads to a simple neighborhood in San Diego. Moose’s widow was on the front steps of her stucco bungalow, waving a bubble wand for a baby boy, less than a year old, sitting on a blanket. The baby grinned and tried to catch the bubbles as they floated above him.

  “His name’s Ryan Cameron Ferrerra,” Grit said as he slowed the car.

  When he looked at Beth this time, she was crying.

  He continued past the house and on to Beverly Hills. He and Elijah would visit Moose’s widow when the time was right.

  Finally he glanced over at Beth, still red-eyed from her tears. “You’re finally going home, aren’t you?” he asked her. She nodded.

  “Charlie Neal found out his sister Marissa has a crush on your brother Zack,” Grit said.

  “Are you bothered?”

  “Nope.”

  “There’s someone out there for you, Grit.”

  “I believe that. I didn’t a while ago. I do now.” He smiled at her. “Thank you.”

  Beth flew back to Black Falls with Sean and Hannah the next day. Grit stayed in San Diego to finish his navy business. She wasn’t sure anyone would figure him out, but someone, surely, would fall in love with him. She’d never met a better man.

  She entered Three Sisters Café. It was cleaning night. Bowie, Dominique, Myrtle and Rose were there. Myrtle was going home to South Carolina. Her niece was having a baby. Myrtle wanted to be there. She insisted she only stayed in Black Falls as long as she did because she liked being around other people who were home.

  She was trying to talk Jo and Elijah into buying her house in D.C., furnishings and all—except her teacup collection. That would go with her to South Carolina.

  Jo had finally decided that the cabins on the lake had to come down.

  Not everything was meant to last forever.

  Beth dipped a sponge into a bucket of hot water. Scott would sometimes join her for cleaning night.

  In the past, anyway.

  Liam O’Rourke walked into the café. He was hesitant at first, but then Dominique smiled as Beth had never seen her smile before and ran to him.

  Rose’s jaw dropped. “Bowie! You let us all think—”

  “I was running interference for them. They’re buying the Whit—the estate on the river, turning it back into a working farm. Cows, pigs, chickens, horses and gardens.” The big stonemason grinned. “Life.”

  Dominique already had spoken to Beth and Hannah about starting the dinner service Myrtle had been pushing for. Maybe, Beth thought, her friend and Liam were already planning for their “farm” to provide meat and produce for Three Sisters Café and O’Rourke’s.

  Beth was sponging down a table by the river when the main door to the café opened again. Scott came inside, dressed in jeans and a canvas jacket. She could tell he was holding his breath. He had no idea what she’d do, which had caused tension between them. Now, she didn’t care. She couldn’t stand it anymore.

  She threw down her sponge and started to run to him, but he got to her first and lifted her off her feet, kissing her right there in front of everyone.

  Twenty-Nine

  Black Falls, Vermont—early March

  Rose heard laughter and smiled as she snowshoed across the meadow to the sugar shack. Winter fest weekend had begun, and a crowd had gathered over an outdoor fire in the old stone fireplace. After a cold spell and a major snowstorm, the sap had been running for the past few days. They’d collected it and now were boiling it down, most inside in the new evaporating pan but some in a big pot outside.

  All just for fun on a bright, gorgeous late-winter day.

  Grit Taylor had arrived back in Black Falls, at least for the moment, and was by the fire with Elijah. All the Neals were there, including Charlie, who looked smug and pleased as he watched Marissa sneak looks at Grit.

  The Neal entourage of Secret Service agents kept a close eye on Charlie especially.

  Sean, Hannah, A.J. and Lauren were running things inside the sugar shack, taking turns keeping an eye on Jim and Baylee.

  Rose eased in next to Jo in front of the sugar shack. “It’s the second-eldest sister with the crush on Zack,” Jo said, sighing. “As if my life’s complicated enough. Charlie was very clever in his misinformation campaign with Grit and Marissa. He made them both see what was in front of them. Where’s Nick?”

  Rose didn’t try to contain her surprise. “
Nick? Why are you asking me?”

  Jo gave her a slight smile. “You’ve changed in the past few weeks, Rose. It’s subtle, but we’ve all noticed. I have a feeling there’s less solitude in your future.”

  “And you think that has something to do with Nick Martini.”

  “We all do. You’ve always been content living on your own on the mountain, doing your work, but you withdrew this past year. You needed to, I guess, to cope.” Jo directed her gaze at the people laughing in the steam of the bubbling maple sap, but her attention was still on Rose. “A.J., Elijah and Sean are there for you.”

  “I know that,” she said quietly.

  Jo turned to her again. “And you’re there for them. You all are still a family. You’re just not demonstrative.”

  “Which you understand, being a Harper.”

  “True,” Jo said with a laugh.

  “None of this has anything to do with Nick.”

  “It has everything to do with him. You’re in love with him, Rose.”

  She smelled sweet maple in the late-winter air and smiled. “Yes, I am.”

  Jo seems satisfied. “Good for you.” Her expression softened. “I want you to be among the first to know. Elijah and I are getting married this spring up at the falls. Reverend McBane’s agrees to perform the ceremony.”

  “That’s terrific news, Jo,” Rose said. “I can’t wait.”

  “I can’t, either. Between my friends and Elijah’s, we’ll fill up the lodge. It’ll be good for business—”

  “It’ll be a lot of fun.”

  Jo looked pleased. “That, too.”

  Rose heard Hannah’s laughter inside the sugar shack, then Sean’s, and smiled at Jo. “I have a feeling yours won’t be the only Cameron wedding this year.”

  Nick got a different room at Black Falls Lodge, one with a view of Cameron Mountain.

  Maybe the Cameron brothers were trying to send him a message.

  He gave the ghost of Drew Cameron a little salute and changed into the suit he’d brought with him from California. It was black, expensive and appropriate for Beverly Hills or the Black Falls Lodge ballroom.