****
They reached the outskirts of Placerville about three in the afternoon. Overcast skies accentuated the late-day gloom as they stopped for a few minutes to let the dog run. Kane checked the road conditions into the mountains. Even though the snow had stopped falling and the roads were plowed, tire chains were required for the rest of the trip.
After he finished installing the chains, he slid inside the idling SUV and turned up the heat while he finished his coffee. His aunt had settled into the back seat again with the dog, her head back and eyes closed. Shelby clicked her seat belt and reestablished her vigil by looking out the windows and checking the mirrors. Once again, he was impressed she hadn’t let down her guard for a moment—despite her lack of sleep last night.
Before she could notice him watching, he turned his attention to the scene around the gas station. The difficult weather hadn’t stopped the hearty tourists. Cars pulled in and out of the parking lot, some stopped to fill a gas tank, and others rushed inside and returned a few minutes later with a steaming to-go cup. Kane brought his own cup to his lips and took a sip of the brew.
“I think someone’s been following us,” Shelby quietly commented so only he could hear.
The bald statement had Kane spewing the hot liquid back into the container. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” He checked his mirror, and then looked more closely at the cars in the lot. “I don’t see anything unusual.” None of the vehicles looked familiar to him. “It’s the holidays. There are a lot of people who travel from Los Angeles to Tahoe for a winter ski break. It wouldn’t be unusual to see the same car along the way.”
“I suppose.” She lifted a shoulder. “This one felt different. A black luxury sedan. No ski rack.”
“The skis could be in the trunk,” Kane reasoned. Just the same, he put the SUV in gear, and pulled out of the station and turned west, along the way they had come.
“What are you doing?” Shelby straightened in her seat and checked the mirrors again.
“I’m looping back. Let me know if you see anyone following.”
“A Crazy Ivan.” She chuckled. “I like it.”
The sound of her laughter warmed Kane in a way that annoyed him. Why did he react so strongly to this woman?
As he headed back the way they’d come, he watched closely for the car Shelby described. If he encountered it, he’d get the license plate number and have his team run a check on the owner.
After a half hour, they hadn’t spotted the sedan and swung back around to head east up the snow-packed roads to his aunt’s cabin. The cabin was actually more like a second home, only not as large as Rosalee’s house in Long Beach. It wasn’t quite in Tahoe proper, but near enough to hit the slopes for a quick run, and made for a nice getaway during the hot L.A. summers. On those rare occasions when he could break from work, he always came up.
Kane was curious about Shelby’s reaction when she saw the cabin. Something told him she kept her personal life extremely sparse, which prompted his next question. “Where are you from?” As an opening gambit to learn more about her, he hoped it wasn’t too obvious.
After a short hesitation, she said, “Everywhere.”
Then again, maybe she knew exactly what he was up to. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the truth.” She squirmed in her seat. “I never lived in the same place for more than three years until after I got out of the Navy.”
“Three years? Was your family in the military?”
“No family. Foster care.”
He wasn’t prepared for her abrupt answer. Unwilling to delve into broken childhood memories, he changed topics. “Why’d you leave the Navy?”
She shrugged. “I thought I’d see the world, make a career. But chose to not re-up after my initial enlistment period.”
“Couldn’t follow rules?” From what he knew of her so far, she would have been trouble in the military. Trouble seemed to fit her like a second skin.
She gave him a sidelong look. “Something like that.”
“Doesn’t Northstar have protocols you’re required to follow?”
“Absolutely. But Byron O’Neal isn’t a Navy admiral. He was in the military at one time, but he’s not heavy-handed with the rules.”
“That seems a bit lax.” Kane didn’t much care for the entire Northstar organization. The respect in Shelby’s voice made him curious.
She shrugged. “There are guidelines we’re expected to follow, but he also expects us to think on our own.”
“A bit more freedom than the military.”
She nodded. “A bit.”
He thought about the regulations required by the FBI. Sometimes they were constraining. He’d pushed the edge in a couple of instances, but rules were there for a good reason. He respected the system. When it worked right, the system allowed him to take bad guys off the street, and maintain his sense of right and wrong while protecting the public.
“So do you live in Washington now?”
Shelby glanced at him. “These are a lot of personal questions. I don’t see how it’s relevant where I live, now or ten years ago.”
Kane felt a touch of heat on his neck. Apparently, he wasn’t as subtle in his interrogation as he thought. “It’s not. I’m just curious what you think of the western states.”
“I’ve been to Tahoe before,” she said, turning to look back out the windshield. “I moved to L.A. when Northstar received more requests for celebrity security. It seemed easier to live here than leapfrog back and forth across the country.”
“She hates flying.” Rosalee’s voice floated from the backseat, confirming his suspicion she’d been listening to their conversations instead of sleeping. He glanced at Shelby with raised brows.
She grimaced. “It’s true.”
Kane couldn’t stop the twitch at the corner of his mouth. That confession probably cost her quite a bit.
It had started snowing again. Heavy flakes pelted the windshield. The driving conditions began to deteriorate, requiring his full attention. He’d have to hold the rest of his questions until later.
The SUV climbed steadily. Icy conditions forced him to drive slowly around hairpin turns. Gradually, the road leveled out and the mountains opened up to a small valley. Light from South Tahoe radiated against the night sky like a beacon calling him to come and play.
Shelby nodded toward the lights. “Is that where we’re staying?”
“No.” Kane shook his head. “Aunt Rosalee’s cabin is a few more miles up the road.”
“I like the convenience of civilization.” Rosalee gave a rare self-conscious chuckle. Then she pointed at the shadowy darkness ahead. “And my privacy, too. That’s why my place is farther out here.”
About ten minutes later, the headlights knifed through the darkness and lit up the side of a large log structure. Kane pulled into the driveway, pushing aside a foot of snow with the front bumper.
Shelby stared through the windshield. “That’s not a cabin.”
Kane chuckled. “It is to Aunt Rosalee.”
The dog started yipping, and Rosalee stirred in the back seat. “Settle down, Oscar. You can get out in a moment.”
Kane twisted to face his aunt. “Stay in the car with Shelby while I check out the place and get the furnace started.” Instead of shutting off the engine, he turned to Shelby. “If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, get the hell out of here.”
“But—” Rosalee started to protest.
Shelby didn’t flinch as she returned his stare. “Fifteen minutes.” She looked at her watch, then back at him. “Starting now or when you walk through the front door?”
“The front door at least,” Rosalee said. “It’s a big house.” Her tone clearly indicated she didn’t like the idea of leaving her nephew.
Kane studied Shelby for a moment, wondering why he felt disappointed she didn’t even hesitate to leave him. It wasn’t as if he expected her to protest like his aunt.
Her lips twitched a little.
“It was your idea.”
He scowled and opened the door. “I know.”
Chapter Ten
Cold air stung Shelby’s face as she climbed out of the passenger side to trade places with Kane while he headed into the cabin to check it out. Once she was back inside the car, she turned up the heater.
“I can’t believe you’d just leave my nephew.” Rosalee huffed. “Fifteen minutes is hardly enough time to look through the cabin. Besides, no one knows we’re here.”
Shelby turned to look at her charge. “It never hurts to take precautions.” She intended to make it clear to Rosalee that she took her job seriously. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. That’s the only reason I let Agent Kane go in alone. He seems very capable and should clear the house in no time.”
“Of course, he’s capable.”
“Then you’ll understand that if he doesn’t return in ten minutes, something is wrong,” Shelby explained. “The extra five minutes is only if he has trouble with the furnace or something with the house.”
“But we can’t just leave him.”
“My first responsibility is your safety.” She gave the author a stern look. “Once you’re out of harm’s way, I’d return to help Agent Kane.”
Rosalee crossed her arms and glared at Shelby. “I guess that’s something. Can’t you call him by his given name?”
“Nelson?”
Rosalee nodded.
“No.” Shelby shook her head. “In the first place, he hasn’t given me permission…”
“And?”
Shelby hesitated, knowing Rosalee wouldn’t let the matter drop until she was satisfied she had been told the truth. “It doesn’t suit him. It’s a sissy name.”
Rosalee burst into laughter. “Oh my! I’d love to see his face when you tell him that.”
Shelby frowned. “I won’t, unless he asks me directly.”
“You can’t go around calling him ‘Agent Kane’ the entire time we’re here.”
“I’m sure it won’t be for long. I hope we’ll have a lead soon, or even better, find the culprit and put him behind bars where he belongs.”
“You’re that anxious to move on to another assignment?”
Shelby squirmed. Rosalee was much too observant. “I’m sure you’re just as anxious. Death threats are never easy to take.”
“Which is why I’ve hired you.” The author sighed. “I’ll be glad when this project is completed. When I started this book, I had no idea how much it would affect my life.”
“Exactly why did you start this book?” Shelby finally asked the question that had been eating at her. “With hundreds of books out there about the Mafia, how could what you write surprise anyone?”
“My story isn’t just about the Mafia,” Rosalee said. “My time with Antonio, who was in the Mafia, covers only a few chapters. It was the only time I’d flirted with the boundaries of the law. I want the book to interest my fans. I’m not going to leave out part of my darker past, just to make myself look better. My agent certainly thought it would be a hit or he wouldn’t have sent the proposal to the publisher.”
“I know you left a copy of the manuscript with Northstar for Allison to look through. While we’re here, I should go through all of it too, not just the pieces we’re working on. Maybe I can find some details that triggered these death threats.”
“Great idea! You should focus on that chapter where I met Antonio and how I learned about his connection to the mob.”
A shadow coming down the steps drew Shelby’s attention. She stiffened and fingered the baton on her belt, ready to defend her charge. Then she recognized Kane’s outline and unlocked the door just as he reached it.
The driver’s door opened and he stuck in his head. “All clear.”
Shelby checked her watch. Nine-and-a-half minutes. The man was good. She climbed out and opened the back door for Rosalee. Oscar yipped his approval and request to be let out.
Kane gestured to the cabin. “Take Aunt Rosalee inside and get her settled. I’ll look around while I walk the dog.”
That simple statement hit Shelby somewhere in the vicinity of her chest. Although he’d given it as a command, it also implied trust in her ability to care for his aunt.
Shelby held Rosalee’s elbow as they trudged through knee-deep snow to the stairs leading up to the front door of the cabin. Kane had brushed the steps, making it easier to climb. He also left the front door unlocked and the interior lights glowed, welcoming them in from the cold.
The first thing that caught Shelby’s eye when they entered was the golden hue of pine walls and floors, offering a sense of warmth to the main room. A vaulted ceiling drew her gaze up to the second level that showcased a balcony surrounded on three sides by pine railing. Beyond the balcony ran a hallway that most likely led to upstairs bedrooms.
She closed the front door with a thud, pleased with the solid sound, and scanned the living room. A large cast iron stove sat cradled in a rocked-in platform and mantel, and commanded the center of one wall. A striking portrait of Rosalee was on the wall above the mantel. Kane had started a gas fire that was already putting out heat.
The room smelled warm and welcoming. An occasional creak sounded as the heat penetrated the upper level and the cabin came to life. Opposite the stove was an oversized picture window.
Shelby crossed to take in the view of the resort and mountain valley beyond. Trees along the hillside muted the resort’s lights. In the daylight, the scene would be spectacular. Unlike the bay windows in Rosalee’s Long Beach home, she didn’t feel exposed here. Snow-laden pines stood like watchmen on each side of the cabin.
To the left of the pines was the driveway. Near the SUV, Kane hunched against the cold, a flashlight in hand, waiting for the dog to finish its business. She figured the only reason he agreed to bring the dog was to please his aunt. Performing this duty was an obvious act of love.
As Shelby watched, Kane aimed his flashlight up and down the road, then pointed it into the surrounding forest. Pristine snowbanks caught the beam and reflected the light. Once his surveillance was over, he turned his attention back to the dog. He’d been no less thorough than she would have been. Perhaps even more so. Certainly, part of his vigilance came from being a cop. But there was more at stake here, born from his devotion to family. Bonds of blood.
Shelby envied him those bonds. His earlier questions reminded her that her own family ties were sheared away before she could utter a word of protest. There were other ties, ones made by choice, not birth. It was different, sometimes difficult, but she was learning to accept her role with this family—even enjoying it a little.
“The kitchen’s through here.” Rosalee interrupted Shelby’s thoughts.
Turning away from the window, she drew the curtains closed, shutting out the night. This gracious older woman was showing Shelby how to step off her island and enjoy the people around her.
She followed Rosalee into a cozy kitchen with cabinets made of the same pine as the living room. In contrast, gray granite countertops gleamed with the sheen of a frozen mountainside, yet the room threw off a welcoming energy, much like the rest of the cabin. Shelby felt as though she’d returned home after a long absence. “It’s lovely here.” Her voice softened with reverence.
The older woman beamed. “I had a feeling you’d like it. I come often, but love it best in the winter when the entire cabin’s cocooned in the snow, safe and quiet from the world.”
“Yes.” Shelby nodded. “I can feel it.”
“Now that we’re here, I think we made a good decision. We’ll be able to concentrate and make great progress on the book.” Rosalee walked through the kitchen, which was open from both the living room and a den lined with bookshelves. Shelby noticed Rosalee’s name on the spine of many of the books. Maybe while they were here, she’d find time to read a couple, and learn what made this author such a fan favorite.
Between the den and kitchen, a set of stairs led to the loft on the second floor. Sh
e’d noticed the stairway in the living room. It appeared that both levels had a circular access to all the rooms.
Rosalee pointed to a short hallway between the kitchen and den. “Through there is a mudroom with a shower and toilet and then the back-door stairs to the garage.”
“Garage?” Shelby veered off from the tour to check out the room. “If there’s a garage, we should get the car inside and out of view.”
“It’ll take a while to clear the snow,” Rosalee pointed out. “Let’s get settled in first, shall we?”
Shelby didn’t want to wait that long. But with snow blocking the driveway, she supposed there wasn’t a choice. She glanced once more around the functional mudroom with a washer and dryer tucked conveniently in the corner, then tested the back door to ensure it was locked.
She caught up with Rosalee on the second floor, amazed at how the older woman negotiated stairs. Slightly out of breath from the higher altitude, she joined Rosalee on the balcony. Together, they gazed over the balustrade into the living room.
“We’ll do most of our work out here.” Rosalee spread her arms wide. “I love the view when the curtains are open. It’s like being on top of the world.”
Shelby spied a writing desk, couch, and two comfortable chairs with side tables next to each one. Atop the tables were reading lamps. This was a perfect place to relax after a day of skiing or hiking and enjoy a quiet moment.
Rosalee led her into the hallway off the balcony. “The bedrooms are through here.”
At the end of the hallway was a closet door. Shelby looked inside and found it full of bedding, towels, and boxes stacked on a top shelf. There wasn’t a back exit. One less entry into the house to worry about. But no real emergency exits, either.
Rosalee opened the first door off the hall. “This is my room.”
The focal point of the room was a queen-size sleigh bed covered by a beautiful handmade quilt. Another writing desk and chair were propped against one wall and a wardrobe crowded into a corner. The view from the window on the far wall was as breathtaking as the one from the second-floor balcony. A wingback chair with ottoman made the perfect setting to enjoy the view.
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