Read Cold Pursuit Online

Authors: Carla Neggers

Cold Pursuit (6 page)

BOOK: Cold Pursuit
13.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

She cupped her coffee mug in both hands. “Hannah doesn't want to talk to you.”

He walked over to her table and helped himself to a chunk of her scone. The intensity of a moment ago seemed to have vanished. “I figured you for raw eggs and wheat germ in a blender.”

“Everything in moderation,” Jo said. “Beth and I ran this morning.”

“Did you? I just saw you stretching in your undies down by the lake.”

“Don't get your hopes up. Those were my yoga clothes.”

He winked at her. “Looked like undies to me.”

The man was hunting trouble. “Don't you have a job?”

“I stay busy. I saw you on your roof yesterday. Checking for bats?”

“Rot. I don't want leaks.”

“If a bat gets in, you can scream. I'll come rescue you.”

She bit off a sigh and set down her mug. “I can't believe I almost eloped with you.”

“Sure you can.” The intensity was back, not quite contained behind his winks and teasing. “What's the matter, Jo, don't you have a sexy bad boy waiting for you back in Washington?”

“A straitlaced FBI agent. He follows the rules. We just started seeing each other.”

“Bet he loves your video.”

She didn't respond and wished she hadn't let Elijah goad her down this road. He'd always known what buttons to push with her—physically, emotionally.

There
was
a straitlaced FBI agent. But they weren't going anywhere together, and they both knew it.

Elijah narrowed his deep blue eyes on her. “Ah.” He looked amused now. “You don't know what he thinks of your video. He doesn't return your calls, does he?”

“I haven't called him.”

“Want me to—”

“Do nothing, Elijah. I want you to do nothing.”

“If I were in your shoes,” he said, “I'd make up a straitlaced FBI agent just in case having an old flame next door became a distraction. Isn't that the big thing with the Secret Service—prevention?”

“We do pretty well with snipers, too.”

It wasn't something she should have said, but it had no effect whatsoever on Elijah. He grinned at her; it wasn't a pleasant grin. “See you, Agent Harper. Do more yoga. Go back up on the roof. I like watching the wild turkeys, but you're prettier, even armed.”

She resisted shooting him as he headed out. Once the door shut behind him, she counted to three, breathed, then set her mug and plate in the dishpan. She didn't know whether to blame her run, boredom or what for letting herself get into a sexually charged verbal sparring match with an out-of-work ex-soldier or whatever Elijah was these days.

Ex-lover. He would always be that to her.

She pushed a flood of memories aside and quickly ducked into the center hall. She didn't hear anything from upstairs and resisted going up and knocking on Hannah's door. Only pure nosiness made her want to find out what was going on between Hannah and Elijah.

Instead, she zipped up her fleece jacket and stepped outside. The village of Black Falls was located in a narrow river valley in the heart of the Green Mountains that ran up the middle of Vermont. Its attractive main street was lined with renovated old houses—clapboard, brick, stone—that were often the subject of Vermont postcards. Most had been converted into shops and businesses.

Across the street, the midday sun peeked through the naked trees on the sliver of a town green and sparkled on brightly colored fallen leaves. Not a bad place to be, Jo thought, even with Elijah in town. She felt some of the tension of being around him ease. She enjoyed the chance to spend time with her family. They'd all had spaghetti up at her parents' place last night.

But she still had an afternoon to kill and wasn't used to being at a loose end.

As she reached her car, her cell phone rang. Service was spotty in the nooks and crannies of south-central Vermont, but she had a decent signal.

“Jo…thank God.”

She recognized Thomas Asher's strangled voice. “Thomas? What's—”

“There's been an accident.” He gulped in a breath and rushed forward, his words coming fast. “I don't know. Maybe it wasn't an accident. The police…I can't think…I…”

“Whoa, Thomas, slow down. Start from the beginning. Who's hurt?”

“Alex. Alex Bruni. Jo—he's dead. I can't believe it. He was hit by a car outside a hotel across from his office. He…The police say he was killed instantly. It was a hit-and-run. The driver took off.”

“Does Nora know?”

“Yes. I called and told her.” He sounded slightly calmer now that he had delivered the news. “I don't know how much she heard or didn't hear—we didn't have a good connection. Jo, could I ask you to check on her? Would you mind? Nora doesn't know many people up there. I'd feel better if you could—” His voice cracked. “I'm in shock. Alex and I have been…we were friends for more than twenty years.”

“Thomas, do you have any reason to suspect Nora is in any danger?”

“No! No, no, she's not in danger. I'm just worried about her emotional state. She and Alex didn't get along that well, but she's close to her mother. Carolyn will get the first flight she can out of Hong Kong, but it'll take a while.”

“Have you been in touch with the police?”

“What?”

“The police. If Ambassador Bruni was killed in a hit-and-run—”

“Right, of course.” He seemed to have trouble focusing. “The police are investigating. I don't know the details, Jo. I was here at my office working on a presentation when I heard.”

“How did you find out?”

“Alex's secretary called me. So that I could tell Nora before she heard it on the news.” He was breathless, obviously shaken. “I didn't have to tell Carolyn. Thank heaven for that. I think the police told her. I spoke to her, of course—I assured her I'd take care of Nora. Jo…”

“I'll check on her right now, Thomas. I'm sorry about Ambassador Bruni.”

“I knew him longer than Carolyn. People wonder why we stayed friends after they got together, but there was never a question…” He sobbed openly. “I can't believe he's gone.”

“How did Nora take the news?” Jo asked, trying to cut through his grief.

“Hard to tell. She stayed calm, but it's such a shock. I just want to be sure she's okay. She's so young, Jo—she should be at college, with professors and counselors and friends.”

“Do you want her to make arrangements to get back to Washington?”

“I don't know. A funeral is on hold for now, pending the—the autopsy….” He seemed to drift off, then added quietly, “It's hard to think about the future.”

“Then don't. Think about what you need to do right now. Are you alone?”

“Melanie's on her way.”

The fiancée. Jo pulled her car door open. “That's good.”

“We'll come up there if we need to. Nora and I—we used to be so close. I wish you'd known us then. She doesn't communicate with me the way she used to. Remember being eighteen?”

Staying on the lake next to Elijah, she'd been remembering being eighteen a lot. But she wasn't going there. “Why did Nora quit school? Was there a precipitating incident—a crisis, anything?”

“I think it was pure impulse. She loves Vermont, or at least the idea of it.” Thomas's tone cooled noticeably. “Her decision to take a break from college has nothing to do with Alex's death.”

“All right. I'll get back to you as soon as I've laid eyes on her.”

“I haven't even asked how you are,” he said quietly.

“I just had a warm scone and coffee at the café where I understand you and Melanie met.”

“Ah.” He seemed to try to sound cheerful. “The Three Sisters Café of Black Falls, Vermont, has the best scones anywhere.” But he choked up with emotion. “Jo…”

“I know, Thomas. I'm so sorry. I'll go look in on Nora now.”

“Thank you.”

He hung up, and Jo climbed into her car and stuck the key in the ignition. Her head felt pinched, tight. Had Nora talked to her father before she'd fled the café? Was that why she was so upset? Had Devin known her stepfather was dead?

Had Elijah known?

She debated, then dialed several law enforcement friends in Washington. No one picked up. A cell signal wasn't the problem this time. “From hero to goat,” she muttered. She wasn't offended. She relented and tried her boss.

Francona picked up on the first ring. “Thought you'd be in a canoe.”

“Ambassador Bruni's stepdaughter lives in Black Falls. She just took off from the café where she works—”

“Three Sisters on Main Street. I've got the Web site up now.” He paused and added, “Quaint.”

“The owners aren't sisters.”

“Beth Harper's your sister.”

Jo didn't respond.

“I'm surprised the lakes up there aren't all frozen. Do you own a canoe?”

Yesterday, she and Beth had appropriated the canoe left on her property. Elijah's, no doubt. “Actually, no.”

“Borrow one. Rent one. Whatever.”

Jo sighed. “Did a report on Bruni just cross your desk? Is that why you had the café Web site up?”

“Wear a life vest.”

He disconnected.

Mark Francona was difficult and exacting on a good day. Today, Jo thought, wasn't a good day.

She drove up along the town green and crossed the covered bridge over the river, heading up a hill toward the country estate where Nora Asher lived.

“I'd give my life for Elijah.”

Jo gripped the wheel and pushed back the image of Drew Cameron on their walk among the cherry blossoms. She didn't know anything that would connect their unsettling conversation and his death two weeks later, much less Alexander Bruni's death a few hours ago.

But something was wrong in Black Falls, she thought, and had been for some time.

Six

F
ighting tears, Nora set her backpack on the gray-painted wood floor of the small porch of the stone guesthouse she'd moved into after she'd quit college. She'd wanted to rent her own apartment—to really be independent—but when Lowell and Vivian Whittaker, the couple who owned the guesthouse, offered to let her live there in exchange for odd jobs, her parents had bullied her into agreeing. The Whittakers were closer friends with Alex and her mom than with her dad, but he'd jumped right in with them. They'd all provided practical reasons why living in the guesthouse made sense, but she knew they just didn't think she could make it on her own. But the guesthouse was working out okay. It was cute, and the Whittakers weren't in Black Falls that much and mostly left her alone.

Nora didn't care about any of that right now. She held a breath to keep herself from crying.

Alex is dead.

“Don't think about it,” she told herself out loud.

She noticed a tear had dropped onto the checklist Elijah had insisted each student in his wilderness-skills class come up with of what to take on a winter hike. She had everything on her list. Map, compass, food, shelter, knife, matches, clothes, a whistle, water, water-purification tablets. A lot of the stuff was new and it was all good quality.

You'll be fine.

She squatted to zip up a small outer compartment on her backpack. Her head spun. She couldn't make it stop. “Alex is dead,” she whispered. “I can't believe he's dead.”

She was so scared. She couldn't see straight. She didn't know what to do.

Her hands trembled and already felt frozen, but she wasn't even that cold yet. She had packed gloves—she'd shown them to Elijah to make sure they would work for winter conditions, and he'd given his approval. He wasn't as cocky as she'd expected a Special Forces soldier to be. He was just super-competent and professional. Everyone in Black Falls that she met said no one knew the mountains better than Elijah.

Nora wished she could be that confident—that good—one day.

She sniffled, refusing to cry outright. She'd been so excited about moving to Black Falls, and now her life there was just a big mess. She loved her apartment, and the Whittakers' estate—a classic Vermont gentleman's farm—was so beautiful. The guesthouse, once a separate property, was nestled at the bottom of a sloping, manicured lawn that swept up to a huge charcoal-gray, black-shuttered farmhouse.

Nora hadn't told the Whittakers, who'd arrived in Black Falls a couple of days ago, about Alex. She didn't plan to tell them, either. Alex had met them on a trip to Vermont last October. He'd been a regular guest at the Camerons' lodge for several years and came up one weekend while her mom was on a business trip. He and the Whittakers had hit it off, and they'd invited him to stay with them and to bring his fiancée and her daughter. Nora fell in love with Black Falls. She came up twice after that with Alex and her mother. Then the Whittakers insisted she bring her father one weekend. Just the two of them. He was reluctant at first, but Nora talked him into it. They'd had such a great time together. She'd fantasized about all of them coming to Vermont one day—her, her dad, her mom, Alex. She thought Lowell and Vivian understood.

If only, though, she hadn't told them she and her father were heading north in April to look at colleges. They'd immediately invited them to stay at their place in Black Falls. If they hadn't—if they'd just stayed in another town—he never would have met Melanie Kendall.

It's my fault he met that bitch.

“Nora.”

She jumped, but stifled a scream when she saw it was Devin on the stone walk in front of the guesthouse. She straightened, sniffled back her tears. “Devin, what are you doing here? You startled me.”

“Sorry.” He looked almost forlorn. “I just want to talk.”

“There's nothing to talk about. Really.”

A pair of mallards floated in a small man-made pond behind him. The banks of the pond were planted with weeping willows and rhododendrons. Everything about the estate was beautifully done, carefully planned. As much as she wanted her own apartment, Nora loved being there, having her own space and being surrounded by wilderness. She'd hated living in a dorm.

Devin nodded to her pack. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Maybe. I don't know. I wanted to see how all the stuff I've been collecting since the class I took with Elijah would fit into my backpack.”

“Looks heavy.”

“I can manage.”

“Nora, what's going on?”

There was no irritation or frustration in his tone. Obviously he didn't know about Alex, and she couldn't bring herself to repeat out loud what her father had told her.

“I have terrible news, Nora. Alex has been killed….”

It wasn't a mistake. Her dad wouldn't have called her unless he was positive.

Alex was dead.

My mom's a widow.

Devin took an audible breath. “Nora…please. Talk to me.”

She wanted to believe in him. Until that morning, she had. She'd never met anyone steadier or more reliable than Devin. People in Black Falls didn't understand that about him. They thought he was just a dumb, screwed-up kid from a bad family.

Nora didn't want to be the one to prove them right.

She let her pack lean against her knee. “You stole money from me, Devin.”

He didn't respond. He looked hurt, and that made her want to cry even more.

“If you needed money, you could have asked me.” All the starch had gone out of her. “I'd never refuse you. Even if I don't have much to spare—”

“I didn't steal from you.”

Even now, reeling, frightened, confused, Nora wanted to find a way it
couldn't
have been him. Devin was her best friend in Black Falls. He understood how she felt about her father's odious fiancée and didn't tell her she was just jealous. Something was off about Melanie. Nora couldn't pinpoint what it was, but she didn't like her, didn't trust her and was convinced the feeling was mutual on Melanie's part. She'd gotten Devin to help her. They'd essentially been doing their own background check on Melanie—something Nora's father probably should have done himself.

“Nora, are you running from me?”

She shook her head. “I don't care about the money.” Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. She gave a fake little smile. “I just need some space to clear my head.”

She hoisted up her pack. It was expensive and brand-new—it even smelled new. Her mother had actually loved the idea of her taking a wilderness-skills class and told Nora to put the backpack on her credit card. Elijah had a simple beat-up pack he'd had for years. He'd probably taken it on hundreds of hikes. It wasn't an army-issue pack—Nora knew that much. They'd all talked behind his back in class about what he must have done as a soldier. Supposedly he could speak the different languages of Afghanistan and knew the culture, the people, as well as how to handle himself in a firefight.

Elijah's class had consisted of her and six other students just as green and eager and stupid as she was. She was the youngest, though. That had made her feel a little less self-conscious. The women in the class all thought Elijah was sexy. Nora did, too, but thinking that way made her feel disloyal to Devin, even if they were just friends. Elijah was a total stud and very serious about the information he was giving, but it was so obvious to Nora that she and her classmates were nothing like the soldiers he was used to in the military. But he was so thorough, and that was a good thing. Otherwise she'd have tossed a sundress or something equally useless into her pack, because she was so crazed she couldn't
think.

“Nora,” Devin said, his voice tortured. “Come on—”

“I have to go.”

She shivered as if she were already on Cameron Mountain. She'd left her cell phone in the kitchen because it was a way for someone to track her.

And she didn't want to be tracked. Every instinct she had told her to get up on the mountain and disappear, even if it violated the basic tenets of safe hiking. Don't hike alone. Leave her route with someone. Tell someone how long she expected to be gone. Nora didn't care. She didn't want anyone to find her unless she wanted to be found—unless she knew exactly who was looking for her and why. She'd been planning this trip for days. She'd meant to ask Devin to go with her—but forget that now. She wanted to get away from everyone.

Devin took another step toward her. “Did your dad find out you were snooping into Melanie's background?”

“No, I don't think so. And I'm not that concerned if he does. He should have checked her out himself. He's too trusting.”

“Are they on their way up here? Is that why you're doing this?”

“No, they're not on their way. Devin, please.” Her head was still spinning, and she didn't want to start crying in front of him. “I just—Devin, the money…” She hadn't wanted to get into it with him. He'd come to the café knowing something was wrong, and she'd refused to talk to him. She blinked back tears now and hoisted her pack onto one shoulder. Devin was right—it
was
heavy. “I'm missing a hundred dollars,” she said.

“And you think I stole it?”

She looked away.

“Was it in your wallet?”

“My kitchen.” She nodded back toward the front door of the guesthouse. It was divided into two side-by-side apartments—she'd had her pick and chosen the one with the better view of the pond and surrounding hills, so gorgeous when the leaves were turning. She'd never been afraid there. Not once, until today. “I keep a hundred dollars in cash for emergencies, and it's gone.”

“Where? A drawer, the freezer?”

“Under a pot of parsley in the window. I check it every morning. I checked it yesterday morning, and it was there. I checked it this morning, and it was gone.”

“There's no sign anyone broke in?”

“No. I worked late yesterday, then went on a bike ride.”

“You don't lock your doors,” Devin said. “Anyone could have walked in.”

“I don't want to discuss it.”

She marched down the steps with her backpack and brushed past him, her throat tight, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her mother had probably called by now. Nora had turned off her cell phone. She didn't want to talk to her. She couldn't bear her mother's grief—couldn't handle having her mother dump on her to make herself feel better. Nora had talked to a friend whose father was a psychologist, and her friend had said that was what her mother did.

It still seemed selfish and wrong not to talk to her mother when her husband had just been killed. She and Alex had truly loved each other.

Nora continued down the stone path toward the gravel turnaround where she'd parked. The main entrance to the estate was a quarter-mile up the road. The air was chilly, but she had all the right clothes. She was a little afraid of staying up on the mountain at night this time of year. Elijah had lectured the class about the dangers of hypothermia.

That was how his father had died in April, right before
her
father fell for the bitch Melanie over scones at the Three Sisters Café.

Nora heard Devin behind her. Part of her wanted to run up to the Whittakers and let them take care of her.

Maybe Alex was right and she was just a wimp.

Of course, he hadn't said “wimp.” He was the big diplomat, after all. He'd just had a talk with her about accepting herself, understanding her limitations, pushing herself in areas where she could excel instead of setting herself up for failure.

In other words, she was a wimp.

She'd never liked him that much. Even when he and her dad were friends—before he'd married her mom—she'd thought he was a jerk. When she'd mentioned her class with Elijah, Alex had laughed and said he'd like to see her down at the local army recruiting office. Normally she'd have laughed, too, and pretended she wasn't hurt, but instead she'd summoned up the guts to tell him he was making fun of her and she didn't appreciate it. He'd gotten this shocked look and said he just meant to tease her, not to demean her. He'd seemed so genuine, so serious, that for about two seconds Nora had believed he wanted a real relationship with her, one that meant something.

Now he was dead.

Murdered…

She wondered if her father was as upset by Alex's death as her mother was. Everyone had thought her dad would hate Alex, but he didn't.

No one would think about how she felt. The in-the-way stepdaughter.

It was all so surreal.

She picked up her pace, already debating whether she needed
everything
in her pack. It was
so
heavy. She felt a sudden, blinding anger toward her father for telling her about Alex the way he had, calling her on her cell phone, just blurting out that he was dead. Deep down, though, she knew there was no easy way to give someone such news. She could imagine how awful it must have been for Devin when he'd found Drew Cameron. He'd hiked up the north side of the mountain alone and had been forced to leave Drew's body up there in the snow while he hiked down again, got back to his truck and drove out to where he could get a cell signal and call for help. At least he hadn't actually been the one to give the Camerons the terrible news. The state police had done that part. And Drew Cameron's death had been an accident. As much as she didn't like Alex, it sickened Nora to think that someone could have run him over on purpose.

BOOK: Cold Pursuit
13.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Strumpet City by James Plunkett
La noche de Tlatelolco by Elena Poniatowska
Ever Night by Gena Showalter
The Quality of Love by Rosie Harris
Liars and Outliers by Bruce Schneier
Infinite Reef by Karl Kofoed
The Caterpillar King by Noah Pearlstone