Cold Pursuit (2019 Reissue)

by Carla Neggers

  “Did you expect thanks, Devin?”

  He paled slightly, seemed to realize he’d gone too far.

  “For two cents,” Elijah said, “I’d throw you off this damn mountain. Hell, I’d do it for free. If you see Nora, let her know that she’s not alone.”

  “She is alone.” Devin stood in the middle of the trail, his cheeks red with the cold and emotion as he hooked his walking stick under one arm. “We’re all alone when it comes right down to it.”

  Elijah couldn’t argue with him on that score. “You’re a lot of fun these days.”

  “I’m a realist.”

  “Devin, if you need a hand—”

  “I don’t need anything.”

  “Money’s missing from the lodge,” Elijah said quietly.

  Devin stared down into the dense evergreens and seemed to take a moment to collect himself. “I don’t steal,” he said. “Not from anyone.”

  “You’re short one day, cash is sitting right there…”

  “I didn’t take anything from A.J. or the lodge. If either of you had any evidence against me, you’d call the police.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “How stupid do you think I am?” He spun back onto the trail, set his walking stick on a soft spot and moved forward. “Camerons don’t do favors for anyone but themselves.”

  Elijah stayed within ten feet of Devin, and he wondered how fast Jo was gaining on them. He still didn’t want to talk about missing money in front of her. “What about Nora? She’s used to having money. She’s probably had quite a wakeup call being on her own.”

  “She doesn’t steal, either.”

  “Think you might impress her if you had some extra cash to toss around?”

  Devin humped it up a rock face in the middle of the trail. Short of wrestling him to the ground, Elijah had little choice but to let him go. “Take your time,” he said. “Don’t trip on a root or a rock and split your head open. I’m not going to follow you. If you want to talk to me, you know where to find me. Anytime. Day or night.”

  No response.

  “Where will you be if I want to talk to you?”

  Devin raised his middle finger without so much as a pause in his step or a backward glance down the trail.

  Message received, Elijah thought.

  He started back down the trail, not taking his shortcut this time. A cool breeze floated through the trees, bringing with it the acidic smell of the pines and spruces. He could camp up here for the night. He didn’t have to go back.

  But Jo would be gaining on him. He kept going, rounding the hairpin turn, then dropping off the thick roots of a giant spruce tree, landing in front of her. “Agent Harper,” he said amiably. “Nice day for a hike, but watch out for wet spots this time of year. We don’t want to contribute to trail erosion.”

  She wasn’t breathing all that hard for someone who’d hiked up the mountain as rapidly as she had. She looked past him. “Where’s Devin headed?”

  “He didn’t say. Why? He hasn’t done anything to alert the Secret Service, has he?”

  Jo ignored his bantering tone. “What about Nora Asher?”

  “I haven’t seen her.”

  “Has Devin?”

  “Didn’t say.”

  “Is he meeting her?”

  “Likewise, he didn’t say.” Elijah noticed the color high in Jo’s cheeks—wind, exertion, irritation. A sense of purpose. “Getting banished to Vermont must be rough when you have an ambassador turn up dead in Washington. Nora taking off into the woods by itself isn’t a big deal, but it reminds you that you have nothing to do. So you turn it into something—”

  “Elijah.”

  “So intense, Jo.” He grinned at her. “Damn, but you have pretty eyes. The copper highlights bring out the turquoise.”

  “Elijah, we can do this nice, or I can shoot you. Which will it be?”

  “You’re not supposed to talk like that. You’re a professional.”

  “No witnesses.”

  “You didn’t think there were witnesses at the Neals’, either.”

  “No, I didn’t care if there were. There’s a difference.”

  Jo did have a way about her. Elijah jumped lightly onto a flat, gray rock. A breeze rustled through the trees. “Devin’s not a bad kid, and if Nora’s decided to try winter camping, for whatever reason, she knows what to do.”

  “A lot of people who know what to do end up in trouble up here.”

  His father, for one.

  Jo seemed to read his mind and took a sharp breath. “Elijah, I’m sorry.”

  “Forget it. You just stated a fact. I understand Nora’s father is worried about her, but she’s got a good head start on us. Even if we find her, we’ll probably run out of daylight before we can get her off the mountain. I’m prepared to spend the night up here. You’re not.”

  “She is?”

  He shrugged. “If she packed the gear she showed me, absolutely.”

  “Devin?”

  “He’s a natural. Give him a jackknife, and he could survive Antarctica.” But Elijah saw that Jo wasn’t going to respond to his humor, and he said, “I’m not worried about Devin. Let’s get moving before we end up in trouble ourselves.” He nodded down the trail. “You walk point. I’d rather look at your butt than have you look at mine.”

  “Elijah…”

  “You’re blushing, Agent Harper. I thought I’d never see the day. Even fifteen years ago when we were—”

  “Right now, Elijah, I’m looking for a good spot to hide your body.”

  She tried to pull off a scowl but couldn’t do it, and he laughed, appreciating that she hadn’t let mention of his father’s death stop her from reacting exactly the way he’d expected, the way he’d wanted her to—sharp-tongued, feisty, smart.

  She lifted a foot onto a knee-high boulder and stretched her calf muscles, and he couldn’t help but notice the curve of her hip. “You’re wearing jeans,” he said. “Jeans aren’t good in the cold.”

  “I’m aware of that, and, if you’ll notice, you’re also in jeans.”

  He patted the strap of his daypack. “But I have a change of clothes. Not carrying any water, either?”

  She didn’t answer and dropped her foot back to the trail.

  “I have more than enough water to share,” Elijah said.

  “Thank you. I’ll let you know if I get thirsty.”

  “When was the last time you were up here on your own?”

  “Years,” she said, and left it at that as she about-faced and plunged back down the trail.

  Her butt really wasn’t hard to look at, Elijah noted. It never had been.

  She stopped abruptly and turned to him. “I want to know what you and A.J. aren’t telling me.”

  He stepped down next to her. “I don’t know about A.J., but I’m debating the wisdom of telling you that you have mud splattered on your left thigh.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Honest, Jo. It’s about three inches below where you got plastered with airsoft pellets.”

  “You don’t have a clue where I got hit.”

  “I do. It was on the video. The kid who put it up on the Internet had these red arrows point to where you got nailed.”

  She sighed. “I’m never living this one down, am I?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Listen, Elijah.” She was calmer now, not so combative. “I figure you and A.J. aren’t telling me what Devin did or what you suspect him of having done because you want to give him a chance to make good on it. Am I right?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “I am right,” she said.

  “You’re a Harper. You do love being right.”

  It wasn’t the nicest thing to say, but she ignored him and put her hands on her slim hips. She was serious now. She looked out at the woods. “Your father knew this mountain better than anyone, except maybe you. He had a full pack. He was prepared—”

  “No snowshoes.”

  “The sno
w wasn’t that deep. He managed to get up the mountain in boots. His pack was located a few yards from where he died. That’s significant, Elijah. You know that. People suffering from hypothermia can become disoriented and exercise poor judgment.”

  “We don’t know what happened.”

  Jo scrutinized him as only she could. Finally, she said, “You don’t believe his death was an accident.”

  “Doesn’t matter what I think.”

  “Maybe he fell and dropped his pack before he began to suffer the effects of hypothermia,” she said. “He was experienced—he’d rescued enough people off the mountain to know he was at risk under those conditions. At the first sign of trouble, if he were able, he’d have dug into his pack for more clothes, pulled out whatever he had for emergency shelter—”

  “Two trash bags.”

  She nodded. “That’d work, but he never used them, did he?”

  “No.” Elijah slipped his pack off his shoulder, got out his water bottle, uncapped it and took a long drink as he eyed Jo. “Do you want me to throw you over my shoulder and carry you down this mountain, or do you want to keep moving?”

  “I don’t know. Throwing me over your shoulder could be fun.”

  “Jo.”

  She grinned at him, her eyes sparking, but she got moving. He recapped his water bottle and followed her at an easy pace. She put some distance between them, and he lost her on a steep downward turn. When he rounded it, she was there, planted in the middle of the trail with both hands up to block him.

  “An ambush,” he said, amused, ignoring her intense look. “I think you tried this when you were twelve and I just picked you up and moved you.”

  She was having none of it. “Listen to me, Elijah,” she said, her voice tight, low, as she placed her hands on his chest, pushed him back on his heels. “Even if your father had used everything he had with him, he still might have succumbed to hypothermia eventually. You know that. But whatever happened, he’s gone. Nora and Devin aren’t. If you have information to suggest either of them is in trouble—”

  “I don’t. If I did, I’d tell the local police.”

  She took his gibe without visible reaction. She nodded. “I believe you.”

  “Do you?” As she started to take a step back from him, he caught her hands into his and heard her intake of breath as he drew her closer to him. Her fingers were cold, but there was nothing cold about her expression. Her lips parted, and she didn’t avert her eyes as he stared into them, let himself say what was on his mind. “We could be at the falls in twenty minutes. We could go swimming. The water’s freezing, but we could forget everything for a little while.” He smiled, aching to kiss her, to make love to her again. “Hell of an image, isn’t it?”

  “How out of control are you, Elijah?”

  He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed her fingertips. “Not out of control at all.” He winked as he released her. “Otherwise, sweet pea, we’d be peeling off our clothes at the falls right now.”

  “You would. Not me. My skinny-dipping days are over.” She tucked her hands into fists at her sides and was serious again. “Elijah, Devin isn’t you at eighteen. It’s not your job to save him.”

  Her comment rubbed him in all the wrong ways. He eased past her on the trail, then stopped, looking up at her. In the already fading afternoon light, her eyes were dark, her skin pale. “It would be a mistake to think you know me.”

  “Is that supposed to make me shake in my boots?” Her reaction wasn’t at all what he’d expected. She walked down to him. “Because it doesn’t. I appreciate your military service, Elijah, and I’m sorry you got shot, and I’m sorry your father died—and I’m sorry he left me the lakefront property instead of you all. But you don’t scare me.”

  “Damn, Jo, you’re a pain. No wonder Charlie Neal arranged to have you shot in the ass. For the record, you scare the hell out of me.”

  “Will you stop?”

  “No, I’m serious. When you were fifteen…holy hell. You were scary even then. I can see those turquoise eyes of yours flashing at me when you wanted to stop me dead in my tracks. By the time you were eighteen, how was I supposed to resist?”

  “You didn’t even try, as I recall. You pursued me like there was no tomorrow.”

  “Fun, wasn’t it?”

  “Memorable.” She shivered against a sudden gust of wind and looked out at the view through the bare trees. “Eighteen didn’t feel as young then as it does now.” She glanced sideways at him and smiled. “No wonder my father looked for ways to arrest you. I’ve often thought it was just as well your father was the one who discovered us.”

  “Were you rebelling, falling for me?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Not even a little.” But her federal-agent discipline kicked in as she started back down the trail. “Maybe Devin decided to forget Nora and go home. He could be taking another trail off the mountain. He still lives with his sister, doesn’t he?”

  “A.J. lets him stay at the lodge.”

  “You mean Lauren does.”

  “That would be another way of putting it, yes.”

  “Maybe we should knock on his door.”

  Elijah nodded. “Fine. We’ll knock on his door.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The wind cut through Jo’s jeans as she crossed the open field and the quiet road to the lodge, picturesque under the lavender-streaked graying sky. It was late afternoon, but already getting dark. She was tempted to head for the stone fireplace and warm up, but Elijah had gone ahead of her and didn’t even pause at the lodge entrance. Without so much as a glance back at her, he walked straight down to the shop, located in a small building tucked among evergreens.

  Jo caught up with him. “What if I’d tripped in the field and broken a leg?”

  He still didn’t look back at her. “I’d know.”

  “Ah. Eyes behind your head. Keen situational awareness. The experienced soldier—”

  “Nope.” Now he glanced behind him, his eyes almost navy in the fast-fading light. “I just know you’re not one to go quietly.”

  They came to the shop. It was closed, but a sign in the window directed customers to the lodge. An arrangement of cornstalks, pumpkins and vibrant yellow, white and rust-colored mums cheered its front door—undoubtedly Lauren’s doing, Jo thought. Pre-Lauren, A.J. had left the spot bare.

  Elijah reached into the mums and produced a key.

  “The first place I’d look is the mums,” Jo said behind him.

  “Tell A.J.”

  He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Some of his intensity had abated since she’d intercepted him on the mountain, but he was still a man with a mission. She could just leave him to it, but she knew she wouldn’t. Her gut as well as the facts told her that whatever was going on between Devin Shay and the Cameron brothers was mixed up somehow with Nora Asher’s sudden decision to bolt for the mountains. She might have been planning a camping trip, and her stepfather’s death might have triggered her decision to leave when she did, but Jo remembered Nora’s tearful departure from the café that morning, Devin following helplessly behind her. Thomas hadn’t reached her at that point to tell her about Alex Bruni’s death.

  Something was up, and Jo wanted to know what.

  But she didn’t fool herself. She wanted to know because of Elijah, too.

  She followed him into the tidy one-room shop. It offered a limited but carefully selected range of outdoor equipment and gear, from the brightly colored kayaks that hung from the ceiling to the racks of mountain bikes, snowshoes, cross-country skis and backpacks. Jo squeezed past a display of hats and gloves that reminded her of the deficiencies in her Vermont wardrobe. She hadn’t packed for traipsing after mountain man Elijah. She debated helping herself to a pair of wool socks, but instead she filled a triangular paper cup from the watercooler.

  Elijah headed straight to the wooden stairs.

  Jo took two gulps of water and followed him up the stairs. She considered saying something abou
t his butt, which looked extremely fine to her, but decided she’d been reckless enough with him for one day.

  She stayed behind Elijah as he knocked on a closed door at the top of the stairs. But there was no answer. No surprise, but Jo noticed his hesitation, the tension in his hand as he held it to the door. “Tempted to break in?” she asked calmly.

  “I don’t need to. A.J. has the key.”

  “Same difference, Elijah. If Devin—”

  “Easy, Agent Harper.” He lowered his fist back to his side and turned from the door, face-to-face with her and very close. “You’re getting all excited thinking about slapping me in handcuffs.” He was obviously enjoying himself. “Another time, sweet pea.”

  “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.”