Lethal Edge

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Lethal Edge Page 5

by Kaylea Cross


  “You would.” He loped up the steps and caught Mason in a back-slapping hug even though it made his shoulders ache more. They hadn’t seen each other in over four months. “Great to see you, man.” He looked down at Mason’s service dog. “So this is Ric.”

  “Yep. Short for Ricochet. He’s my wingman.”

  Tate let the dog sniff his hand, then stroked its fuzzy head. Ric gazed up at him with mismatched eyes, one blue, one brown. Cute, especially the brown eyebrows that gave his face such expression. “What kind is he?” He petted Ric’s ears, scratched under the dog’s chin.

  “Border collie and Aussie shepherd, mostly, but I’m not sure exactly. Now. When can we check out this property you dragged me down here to see?”

  “Dragged you?”

  Mason’s pale blue eyes twinkled with the promise of mischief. “Yeah.”

  Excitement stirred in his gut. “Right now, I guess. We can stop and grab a bite in town after.” He wouldn’t mind bumping into Nina and Avery.

  They headed for Mason’s Jeep. “Where’s your truck?” he asked Tate.

  “In the shop.” Currently bearing the brunt of Curt’s frustrations with his new neighbor. “Got rear-ended yesterday.” The instant he opened the passenger door, Ric jumped into the front seat and sat there staring at Tate, as if telling him the seat was claimed. “Yeah, sorry, buddy. I’m not getting in the backseat for you.”

  “Ric, get in the back, you doofus,” Mason said, snapping his fingers toward the rear seats.

  The dog’s ears fell. He turned around, head down, tail between his legs and slunk his way into the backseat as though he’d been banished to the ends of the earth.

  “He’s so sensitive,” Mason said with a chuckle. “Big sucky baby.” He reached back to ruffle the dog’s ears and received a feeble tail wag in reply, then Ric rested his chin on Mason’s shoulder to stare out the windshield.

  It was a twenty-minute drive up to the property for sale. Tate unlocked the small shed at the edge of the property line to reveal the ATVs parked inside. A large barn that had seen better days lay in the center of the clearing ahead.

  “You up for this?” He wasn’t sure he was. His muscles ached like a bitch and after this he was going to need a soak in the hot tub and a few beers to ease the pain.

  Mason grinned. “Yeah, man. Come on, Ric.” The dog bounded up beside him on the front seat of the ATV, ears perked.

  Tate climbed on his, started it up, and led the way up the trail that wound through the nearly two-hundred-acre parcel. It had come up for sale a couple months ago, and after he’d mentioned it to Mason, his friend had thrown out the idea of opening up the business together with Braxton.

  With every day that passed, Tate wanted it more and more, his mind filled with plans. There was so much they could do with it. Thick forest covered most of the property. If they were going to use it for training various groups, they’d have to clear certain sections to make it useable. They’d also need to build a lodge of sorts to house everyone.

  “How far’s the river from here?” Mason asked as he drove beside Tate. Ric was still perched in place, ears perked, nose quivering as he sniffed at whatever scents he caught.

  “Just over a mile.” He turned and headed for it.

  Rifle Creek ran right through the southeastern edge of the property, and fed into a river system that was perfect for kayaking and white water rafting. The mountains themselves offered endless possibilities for training scenarios, including winter conditions. Getting permits for a shooting range up here shouldn’t be a problem. There was so much potential for their business with this parcel of land.

  He stopped at an overlook above a section of class three rapids, the banks covered with craggy rocks and tall evergreens. Mason grinned, eyes gleaming. “Awesome. We can do some gnarly shit with this.”

  Tate watched the water froth and churn around the rocks below, excitement firing his blood. He could almost feel the cold water sluicing over him as they traversed the rapids in a kayak or raft. Or the sun-warmed rock beneath his hands as they climbed and rappelled down a cliff face.

  While he loved certain aspects of being a detective, like problem solving and helping others, parts of it sucked too. It would be refreshing not to have to deal with criminals and accidents on a daily basis. To work outdoors a lot instead of being stuck behind a desk.

  He craved freedom. Flexibility. Being able to make his own hours, use the skill set he’d learned in the Corps to teach others. Working with his two closest friends, guys he trusted with his life, was the cherry on top of the sundae.

  The place felt right. And all three of them were looking for a change.

  “Got a site in mind for the lodge?” Mason asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

  “Quarter mile east of here.” He led the way, turning everything over in his mind. Mason had come a long way since his recovery, but Tate still worried about his buddy. After being forced out of JTF2 and then the military due to medical discharge, Mason had struggled to make the transition from elite military service back into the civilian world.

  “Hey, how’s the local female scene here?” Mason asked him on the way to the site Tate had short-listed for the lodge.

  “In Rifle Creek?” It was a small town of less than twelve thousand people, including the immediate surrounding area, and a large percentage of the population was elderly. “There isn’t one.” Even as he said it, he thought of Nina.

  Damned if he knew what to make of her. Or of his attraction to her.

  He definitely wasn’t looking for anything serious anymore. He wasn’t looking, period. When he decided to date again it would be short and sweet with no strings attached. It was all he was comfortable with right now.

  Nina didn’t seem like she’d ever be interested in that kind of arrangement. She was all about soulmates and happily ever after, and he hated to be the one to tell her, but those things just didn’t exist in the real world.

  Avery was right about one thing, however—Nina seemed like an eternal optimist. He’d never met anyone with such an idealistic, romantic view of the world. And damned if it didn’t make him feel old and cynical by comparison.

  Chapter Six

  For the first time in months, it truly felt like Nina had a chance for a fresh start. Like she could finally leave the shadows from her past behind here in Rifle Creek.

  Nina spotted the basket sitting on her doorstep the moment she turned the corner of the house on the brick walkway to the back. Smiling, she propped her grocery bag on one hip as she unlocked the door to her suite.

  Crouching down, she bent to inspect the little bundle covered in a red-and-white gingham cloth. A jar of homemade blueberry jam and a loaf of homemade bread, along with a little handwritten note.

  Welcome to the neighborhood. We hope you enjoy this little housewarming gift. Hope to meet you soon. Bev and Pat (across the street).

  Ohhh, wasn’t that the most charming, thoughtful thing ever?

  Nina carried her gift into the kitchen, the smile still stretching her mouth. So far, small-town living was even more wonderful than she ever could have imagined. Avery had taken her into downtown today to show her around all the historic brick and painted-wood buildings that lined Main Street and the surrounding area.

  She’d asked a few questions about Tate, but not so much that it would make Avery suspicious that Nina was interested, and found out he’d broken up with his longtime girlfriend last fall, around the same time he lost his mother. Nina’s heart went out to him. No wonder he hadn’t dated much since. That was a lot of grief to deal with.

  In the space of an hour during the tour, Nina had met the local café owner, the regulars at the coffee shop Avery frequented, opened up a bank account at the local branch, and received a brief history lesson about the town. Rifle Creek had once been a booming lumber town, and now the old sawmill had been refurbished as shops and restaurants. Now it was her home.

  A tap came on the door connecting her suite to th
e stairs leading to Avery’s. “Knock-knock,” her friend called from the other side.

  Nina hurried to answer it. “Look, the neighbors across the street sent me jam and bread,” she gushed, grabbing Avery’s hand and towing her into the kitchen.

  “What kind of jam? Blueberry?”

  “Yes, how’d you know?”

  A half-smile formed on Avery’s lips. “Because I dropped them off a huge box of blueberries yesterday.”

  “Oh, that was so nice of them to make us jam. You want some?”

  “Sure. Everything Bev makes is delicious.”

  Nina sliced them each some bread, then set out some butter and the jar of jam. “I’m going to go introduce myself.”

  “Want me to come?”

  “No, I’m okay going by myself. Are they right across the street?”

  “Yep, the blue-and-purple Victorian.”

  Nina slathered butter and jam on her piece of bread. Oh, man, it was still warm. Carb kryptonite. “Are they a couple?”

  “No, they’re sisters. Never married, they both stayed here to look after their aging parents before they died. They’ve lived here forever.”

  “That’s so sweet.” She took a bite, closed her eyes and hummed in her throat. “Ohmygod. So good.”

  Avery hummed in agreement and savored her own slice of heaven.

  “I think I’ll take over some of the cherries we bought at the farmer’s market.” The last of the season.

  “Sure, just save me some to make the sauce for the pork tenderloins later.”

  “Okay. Are Tate and his friend coming for sure?” she asked casually. Or, she hoped it came out that way. He’d been on her mind since he left last night. She was curious about him. Not to mention insanely attracted to him.

  “Yeah, around six. You cool with that?”

  “Of course.” It was Avery’s house, she could have anyone she wanted over. But knowing Tate was coming set off a little burst of excitement inside her. Nina was looking forward to seeing him again.

  Avery headed back upstairs. Nina tidied up, gathered the cherries and packed them in the basket. The warm sun felt blissful on her skin as she made the short walk across the street to the pretty Victorian where the two sisters lived.

  One of them was working in the front garden, bent over near the fence as she tied some sunflower stalks to the black, wrought iron fence. “Hello,” Nina called out.

  The woman straightened just as another popped up from behind some shrubs ten feet from her. They both wore matching Tilley hats, the brims shading their faces.

  “Hi, I’m Nina. Just moved into the suite across the street.” She smiled at them. “Thank you so much for your thoughtful gift, it was delicious. I brought you some fresh cherries from the farmer’s market in town.”

  “Oh, how lovely,” one sister said, walking to the wrought iron gate to receive her. “Come in, dear, come in. I’m Pat. This is Bev. People around here think we’re twins, but we’re not. I’m older by thirteen months.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Nina shook their hands and handed over the cherries, then shaded her eyes with her hand and gazed around at the house and yard. Clearly these women took a great deal of pride in caring for their home. “This is such a beautiful property.”

  “Thanks,” Pat said. “Been in our family for four generations now. Inherited it through our father’s side. You want some coffee or iced tea?”

  “Oh, no, I—”

  “It’s no trouble, Bev always has both ready to go at a moment’s notice in case we have company drop by.”

  Nina was starting to get the sense that Pat was the spokeswoman. Bev had yet to utter a single word. “Well, if it’s no trouble…”

  “It’s not. Come on.” Pat hooked her arm through Nina’s and chattered away as she led them around the side of the house and onto the back porch, Bev hurrying ahead of them. “Did you know Avery’s house was built by one of Rifle Creek’s founding citizens? He was a lumber baron. Very wealthy.” Pat frowned, her silver eyebrows drawing together over a pair of shrewd blue eyes. “Had more money than he ever needed, but as we all know, money can’t buy happiness.”

  Nina nodded and made a sound of agreement as they walked across the porch into what looked like a sunroom. The kitchen lay beyond it, the heavenly smells of freshly baked bread and coffee wafting from it.

  “His wife was a delicate little thing,” Pat continued. “Eldest girl from a wealthy family in California. He brought her out here from San Francisco soon after they married. He’d built this house for her, you see, in the Victorian style so common in San Francisco at the time. So she wouldn’t be homesick.”

  “Oh, that’s so romantic,” Nina said. “Maybe that’s why I feel so at home here. That’s where I’m from.”

  “Are you? Well, I don’t believe in coincidences. You coming here was meant to be.”

  Nina beamed at her, recognizing a kindred spirit. “I think so too.”

  Pat patted Nina’s arm. “Well, back to my story. The wife I mentioned was frail. Gave birth to their son and she never regained her strength. She died less than a year later, and so did the baby.”

  Nina’s smile vanished. “That’s terrible.”

  “Yes, very sad. People say her ghost haunts the house still.”

  Nina stared at her, her imagination taking off. “Really?”

  Pat nodded. “Though I’m sure you’re used to ghosts, coming from a place as haunted as San Francisco. So just don’t be surprised if you feel a cold chill from time to time, or hear bumps in the night. Her name was Charlotte, by the way.” She patted Nina’s hand. “But don’t worry, she’s not a malevolent spirit.” She gazed up at the ceiling with a dark look. “Not like the one that lives with us.”

  Nina opened her mouth to ask more, a tiny part of her that was buried beneath the scientist wondering if it just might be possible, but Pat brightened and squeezed Nina’s hand. “It’s so wonderful to have such friendly young people as neighbors. Now, here we go. Bev’s got your tea ready.”

  By the time Nina left an hour later, it felt like she’d been through a whirlwind. She knew all about Lucille, the angry ghost living in Pat and Bev’s attic. Legend said Lucille had been poisoned by her controlling, abusive and philandering husband, and she had vowed to haunt the place until she got her revenge.

  Pat had also told Nina about the most important and influential people in town—which included her and Bev, as they were on both the historical preservation and homeowners’ society.

  She spent the early afternoon unpacking the rest of her things and playing with the furniture layout until she was happy with it. Then she texted Avery for a grocery list, hopped in her SUV and headed into town to buy the ingredients for dinner.

  Arriving home with everything they needed, she found another basket waiting on her doorstep. She put it on the kitchen counter along with the rest of the groceries. Opening it, she found a cake caddy inside with another note.

  Seemed like a good use of the fresh cherries. Enjoy! Love, Pat and Bev. Xo

  Nina pulled off the lid to find a homemade black forest cake sitting on the tray. Three layers of decadent, dark chocolate cake sandwiched between whipped cream and cherry filling.

  Nina frowned. First the blueberries into jam—which Avery had seemed unsurprised and amused by. Now this. And she was too quick a study to miss the pattern.

  “Ahh, so it’s like that,” she murmured. Seemed Pat—because Nina couldn’t imagine this was Bev’s idea—had a bit of a competitive edge, with a penchant for one-upmanship. Well, Nina was up for the challenge.

  She smiled to herself, delighted by the prospect of such an ongoing friendly rivalry in this quirky little town she now called home. “Game on, neighbor. Game on.”

  Forty minutes later she carried the fruits of her labor upstairs in a glass punchbowl. Avery was already in the kitchen prepping dinner. “Hey, is there room for this leftover cake in your fridge?”

  Avery glanced at her. “Sure. You made cake
?”

  “Nope. Pat did. Well, I’m now assuming it was actually Bev, on Pat’s orders.” She slid the remaining cake into the fridge and shut the door.

  When she turned around, Avery was staring at the bowl on the counter. “And what’s that?”

  “That, is black forest cake trifle. Made by yours truly. I’m going to take it over to their place right now. Like to see them top this.”

  A slow smile spread across Avery’s face. “Ohh, I like this.”

  Nina chuckled. “Me too. Should be fun.” She picked up the trifle.

  “Wait, I’m coming with you.” Avery hurriedly untied her apron and tossed it on the counter, grinning like a maniac. “I can’t wait to see Pat’s face when you give it to her.”

  They crossed the road together and stood on the front porch as Avery rang the bell. Pat answered it with a startled smile. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise.”

  “Yes. Thank you so much for the gorgeous cake, that was so thoughtful,” Nina said.

  “We’re having a dinner party, so perfect timing. Can’t wait to try it,” Avery added.

  Nina held out the bowl with a sweet smile. “I thought it would be perfect in a trifle, so I whipped this up just for you two.”

  Pat blinked at it, her smile fading. “My, that… That was so thoughtful of you.” She took it, seemed at a loss for words for a moment before she spoke over her shoulder. “Look, Bev. Nina made us trifle with your cake.”

  Bev appeared behind her sister’s shoulder an instant later, staring at the trifle with disbelieving eyes magnified by a pair of reading glasses.

  “Only some of it,” Nina said. “I kept most of it for us and our dinner guests, because it looked too delicious. Anyway, thanks again and I hope you enjoy it. Have a good night!”

  She and Avery breezed off the porch and down the wooden steps, grinning from ear to ear.

  Avery laughed when they finally rounded the side of their house, out of earshot from their neighbors. “Did you see her face? That was so awesome.” She cackled as she headed up the steps, Nina right behind her. “I knew you moving in here was a great idea. I’ve had more fun with you today than I’ve had in forever. Sad as that sounds.”

 

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