Cold Dawn (11 page)

Twelve

Beverly Hills, California

B
eth Harper took a late-night swim in Sean Cameron's heated pool. The temperature in Beverly Hills was cool by Southern California standards, but by Vermont standards--even in the summer, never mind late February--it was just fine.

She climbed out of the clear azure water and quickly dried off with a large beach towel and pulled on a soft terry-cloth robe. She was alone on the expansive patio, red bougainvillea trailing down a privacy wall.

She didn't mind. Alone, she thought, was good.

She went through French doors into the quiet, spare house, heading into the guest room where she was staying. She thought she just might chuck going back to Vermont and apply for a paramedic's job here.

Except Vermont wasn't the problem.

She changed into a T-shirt and flannel boxers and climbed onto her bed, sitting against the pillows with her knees tucked up under her chin. Late nights were the toughest. That's when she'd obsess about Scott stiffly packing his things and clearing out, the cab he'd called already waiting in the driveway. No warning. No discussion. He'd had enough of Beverly Hills and was going home.

What he'd meant was that he'd had enough of her.

They hadn't talked since. A state detective had called to ask her about Derek Cutshaw's death and Robert Feehan's possible whereabouts, but nothing from Trooper Thorne.

"Bastard," Beth muttered, sniffling back tears as she reached for her cell phone and dialed her sister in D.C.

"Beth, are you okay? What's happened? Did Grit--"

"Everything's fine. Sorry. I forgot about the time change. It's late there."

"It's late in Beverly Hills, too." Jo breathed out in relief. "You scared the hell out of me."

Maybe, Beth thought, but Jo didn't scare easily. "Elijah called a couple hours ago and asked Sean to fetch Grit at the airport. He's there now."

No response from Jo. After several beats, she said, "Just as well Grit's not there on his own. Elijah won't admit it, but Grit's potentially out of control. He's had a long recovery from his leg amputation, and he's a Navy SEAL--he's not used to being idle. I'd hoped this new job at the Pentagon would help."

"I'm sure it will," Beth said.

"Anything weird happens, you call me."

"Are you asking me to be a federal informant?"

"I'm not speaking officially. Elijah and Grit are friends. I've become fond of Grit myself. He's...different." Jo changed the subject. "How're you doing out there? Getting in much shopping?"

"Lots of window-shopping." Beth smiled, trying to ease her tension--and her sister's. "I bought socks and underwear on Rodeo Drive."

Jo laughed. "Even that must have set you back. I wish I could be there with you and Hannah."

"I've been thinking about heading home. Jo, you've heard--"

"Yeah. Poor Rose. I'm glad you didn't have to respond to that fire yourself. You could use a break."

"We all could," Beth said.

Jo didn't take the bait. "Did you call just to talk, or is there something on your mind?"

"Why is Grit in California?"

"Navy business, he says."

"You think Charlie Neal's been in touch with him again, don't you?" Beth knew her sister wouldn't give a direct answer and didn't wait for one. "Charlie will be with his family for winter fest at Black Falls Lodge. I guess you know that, though."

"I plan to be there myself." She added, "For fun."

"Are you keeping on top of yesterday's fire? Could Derek have been involved in Lowell's network? Do you think Robert's just frightened--"

"Anything's possible."

Beth heard Sean arriving back at the house and hung up with Jo, then slipped into her robe and headed down the hall to the kitchen, all stainless steel and spotless chrome. It had a masculine feel despite the presence of Hannah's raspberry-colored sweater on the back of a chair and Beth's handbag on the kitchen floor.

Sean, tall and good-looking, walked in from the garage with Grit, black-haired, dark, wiry and relaxed, both men exuding masculinity and restraint.

"Hi, Grit," Beth said cheerfully. "How was your flight?"

"Good. The plane landed."

Beth noticed he moved a little unevenly as he set his bag on a stool at the breakfast bar. She suspected his injured leg had given him trouble on the long flight. It had to be his first since his medical evacuation to Bethesda last April.

He showed no sign of being in pain, or even noticing his difficulties. He glanced around the expensive house. "Not bad, Sean," Grit said. "Life could be worse."

"Help yourself to anything you need," Sean said.

"Who am I to argue with a Cameron?"

"You wouldn't win, anyway," Beth said.

Grit directed his black eyes to her. "Good point. How'd you all find out about my flight? I figure Jo told Sean, or she told Elijah, who told Sean--or maybe told A.J. or their sister--or Jo told you,
her
sister." He shrugged. "Lots of ways news travels among the Black Falls crowd."

Sean paid no attention. "We've got a houseful," he said. "I hope you don't mind the small bedroom in back."

"I thought I'd be on a chair at the airport bar until morning." Grit remained standing. "Any news from the Green Mountain state?"

"I assume you know about the attack on Rose this morning and on Nick tonight," Beth said.

"Sean filled me in. No stitches. No concussion. No deaths. I'm not minimizing, but I wouldn't want to go up against his sister. Everyone in town loves her. Martini's capable, too, right?"

"He's good," Sean said.

"Submariner." Grit gave a mock shudder. "Submarines aren't my favorite place to be."

Beth had a feeling Grit had been on his share of submarines and had done fine. He was a man who took life as it came. She couldn't say the same for herself. She was always trying to push life into what she wanted it to be. Was that why Scott hadn't stayed with her?

She shook off the thought. "I just hope this mess isn't all starting again."

"Not starting again," Grit said. "Continuing. Those your brother's boxers?"

She rolled her eyes. "They're mine. They're comfortable. Flannel." She drew her robe shut, knotted the tie. "I'm not discussing my damn boxers with you, Grit."

"You're more like Jo than you think," he said, matter-of-fact, and looked back at Sean. "Want to join me in a glass of whiskey and walk through this thing?"

"It's five o'clock in the morning your time," Sean said.

"Okay. So I'll have two glasses of whiskey."

Hannah entered the kitchen. She was dressed in a flowing coral nightgown and robe that Beth knew she hadn't brought with her from Vermont. She eased onto the stool next to the one where Grit had left his bag and stared at her hands.

Sean seemed to struggle not to say anything, but Beth didn't have that problem. "You seem preoccupied, Hannah. What's on your mind?"

She looked up. "Rose is so proud. Bowie knows that, too. If our keeping her secret has endangered her--"

"Cutshaw's the one who's dead." Grit stood back, obviously gauging the reaction in the room. "Ah. I see my comment isn't going over well."

"Your bedside manner sucks," Beth said.

"Pot, kettle," Grit said, unperturbed. "You really are a lot like Jo, never mind that you stayed in Black Falls and she left the first chance she got." He turned back to Hannah. "So, what happened? Did Cutshaw sexually assault Rose?"

Hannah went pale and didn't answer. Sean tensed visibly as he got out a bottle of whiskey and glasses and set them on the counter. Beth forced herself to keep her mouth shut. She'd had inklings of something between Rose and Derek, but only inklings--not enough to raise the subject with Rose, who was even more private than Hannah.

Hannah twisted her hands together. "Rose said that what went on between her and Derek...that his behavior wasn't criminal."

Sean ripped open the whiskey but didn't respond.

Clearly uncomfortable speaking about her friend, Hannah nonetheless continued. "Rose said Derek was a mistake that she wanted to keep to herself. I wouldn't be talking about it now except she said to." She raised her pale blue eyes to Sean. "I don't think she wanted to have to tell you and your brothers herself."

"When did you find out?" Grit asked.

"In January, after Lowell's arrest." Hannah reached down the counter for the glass of whiskey Sean had poured for her. She pulled it toward her but didn't drink any. "I figured it out. Rose didn't tell me. She never would have said a word if I hadn't confronted her. As it is, she didn't tell me much."

Beth picked up an empty glass and held it out to Sean. "Just a splash."

He complied, but she could see his jaw was clamped tightly shut, presumably with thoughts of his sister, and probably Nick, too. Beth took a too-big swallow of the whiskey. It was smooth, smoky and expensive.

Grit looked over the rim of his glass at her. "How much of this mess with Rose and Cutshaw did you know or guess?"

"Next to none of it," she said truthfully. "Derek always struck me as a bastard, but I didn't know him that well--just to say hi to. I didn't want anything to do with him after the fight at O'Rourke's."

"Rose never mentioned him?" Sean asked, his voice low, tense.

Beth shook her head. "She never said a word to me. She'd been burning the candle at both ends. Maybe she was vulnerable to a guy like Derek. Good-looking, great skier, partier. He didn't care about anything more serious than snow conditions and having a good time. There's nothing wrong with that, but he was also a self-absorbed ass."

Hannah stared into her drink. "I don't see him camping out in a cold, uncomfortable shed in the middle of winter. He must have had a compelling reason."

Sean remained quiet, sipping his whiskey. Grit tried his and nodded with satisfaction. "Good stuff. How long were Rose and this Cutshaw character together?"

"I don't know that she'd describe them as ever having been 'together,'" Hannah said.

"Think they could have been meeting at the shed, seeing each other on the sly--"

"No." Hannah's tone was curt to the point of unfriendly. "Why are you here, Grit?"

He shrugged, no sign that Hannah's irritation with him affected him at all. "Navy business."

Yeah, right, Beth thought, but she could tell no one else in the room believed him, either.

"What about Rose and Nick Martini?" Grit asked.

That was too much for Sean. He sprang to his feet and collected Beth's empty glass and his own and brought them to the counter.

Beth realized she was gaping at her friend. Hannah, who had barely touched her drink, was even paler now. Her expression said it all. "Hannah--you're kidding." Beth couldn't contain her shock. "You mean there's something between Rose and Nick?"

"I don't know anything. Nothing. I just..." She looked at Sean. "It's none of our business. They're adults."

Sean obviously had to pry his teeth apart to talk. "I'd trust Nick with my life. I
have
trusted him with my life."

"That doesn't mean you'd trust him with your sister," Grit said.

Sean didn't respond.

"Would you trust anyone?" the Navy SEAL asked.

"Not the point," Sean muttered, and moved down the hall.

Hannah exhaled and picked up her whiskey. "Don't let him fool you. He's guessed about Nick and Rose. He's just in denial. Rose would only tell me that Nick was a sexier mistake than Derek." She winced. "It'd just kill her if she knew we were here discussing her love life over whiskey."

Beth pushed to her feet. "Not her love life. That's the problem. Maybe she's the smart one. Have a fling and walk away. Not everyone has a soul mate out there." She retied her robe. "Back to bed with me."

She marched down the hall, shutting her bedroom door hard behind her. She wasn't the crying type but she found her eyes brimming with tears. She blamed the late hour, the news from home, the whiskey, but she knew it was Scott.

She glanced at her cell phone. He worked odd hours as a trooper. He could be up for all she knew.

"He can call me," she muttered, brushed the tears out of her eyes and climbed into bed.

Grit finished his whiskey alone in the kitchen. The house was quiet. While he had regarded all the women of Black Falls as sisters since first venturing to Vermont in November, he did entertain a moment's surprise at his reaction to Beth Harper as she'd tightened her robe over plaid boxer shorts and a tight little T-shirt.

All that up and down the mountains of northern New England had kept her in shape.

But she was clearly worried about what was going on in Black Falls.

He headed to his assigned bedroom in the back. It wasn't that small. It had its own bathroom. He was used to rats and cockroaches at the apartment he'd given up in D.C. before moving to Myrtle's place. Before that...

Before that, he'd been someone else.

His leg ached when he took off his prosthesis. The long flight had taken its toll, and probably the whiskey, too. He distracted himself by thinking about firebugs and Beth Harper in her flannel boxers.

Just because he'd thought of her as a sister before didn't mean anything. She wasn't his sister.

No, she was the sister of Elijah's fiancee and on the rebound from her state trooper.

Out of reach. Out of bounds.

Didn't mean she didn't have great legs.

"Give it up," Grit whispered to himself, and emptied his mind. Time for sleep. He had work to do after daylight.

Thirteen

Black Falls, Vermont

R
ose stood at the top of her driveway in the soft, gray morning light and watched Ranger run into the snow after a tennis ball. She noticed he looked stiff in his hindquarters. He was a good dog, eager and fit, but, in-arguably, he was slowing down. She couldn't face his approaching infirmities now, and whatever his future as a search dog, he still had plenty of life left in him.

A dusting of snow overnight had freshened up the landscape. While Ranger searched for the ball, she shoveled some sand onto the more treacherous sections of her front walk.

Nick came out of the house, his coat open, his hair tousled. Rose hoped he couldn't see her reaction to him--not that it would be a surprise. He knew. She'd made it plain in June that she found him physically irresistible.

He headed down the steps, not looking as if he'd been attacked twelve hours earlier or had slept on a couch. "Damn," he said with an exaggerated shiver, "spring didn't come overnight, did it? It's still winter."

"The sunrise is earlier. It was a gorgeous one this morning. The entire sky turned shades of pink and lavender."

"You have a beautiful spot here."

"I do. I feel very fortunate." She emptied her shovel onto a slick spot at the bottom of the steps. "How are you this morning?"

Nick grinned. "I feel like I got hit in the head with a shovel last night."

She saw that the bloody parts of his scrape had scabbed over and were healing nicely. "I'm glad you weren't badly hurt. You kept whoever it was--"

"Feehan."

"You kept him from doing serious damage to you."

Nick hunched his shoulders against a sudden breeze. "If he'd landed a clean hit, he had time to stuff my body in a snowbank and wait for you to come back from your brother's place."

Rose leaned the offending shovel against the garage. "The odds were against him. That's why he ran. He knew he couldn't win."

"I made coffee," Nick said, not arguing with her. "I figure we can go to the lodge for goat cheese omelets."

She didn't know if he was being sarcastic. "They're good. Goat cheese, fresh chives--"

"I'm sold."

"You're just cold."

"That, too." Ranger leaped out of the snowbank and catapulted to Nick with a bright green tennis ball in his mouth. He laughed. "If there's a ball within a mile, a golden retriever will find it. I had a golden as a kid. Bo. He was great company when my dad was at sea."

"Most of the time Ranger's all the company I need."

"I'm not going there," Nick said, taking the slobbery ball and tossing it into the snow. Ranger leaped after it, more agile now that he'd warmed up.

For a few seconds, Rose let herself imagine that this sexy, confident, successful man had come to Vermont just to see her, with no other agenda. Would she want such a man in her life? Her life would change, that was for sure.

Her golden retriever returned with the tennis ball. She took it from him, lavishing praise as she glanced at Nick. "I want to go back out to the Whittaker place later this morning," she said.

He gave a curt nod. "I do, too. We can go together."

Ranger led the way up the front steps, the wind blowing hard now, the sunlight gleaming on his golden coat. Rose paused and smiled back at Nick. "The air feels good, doesn't it?"

"No."

"At least you don't have to worry about a wildfire sparking out here in the snow. That fire last June--I just happened to be in Los Angeles working with firefighters on canine searches. I could just as easily have been here."

"But you weren't," Nick said.

"You never said anything to Sean about us, did you?"

"I kept my promise to you."

"Ah. A gentleman."

Nick stood next to her at the front door. "If I'd been a gentleman, I'd have taken you back to his place that night."

She turned and looked out at the mountains in the distance, felt Cameron Mountain looming behind her. She was quiet for a moment. Finally she said, "Derek didn't like to take no for an answer."

"Rose," Nick said, his voice dark.

"I made him take no with me. Not soon enough, but I did it. He was a mistake. A short-lived, stupid mistake. He was a mean drunk, and he wasn't nice when I refused him. We'd been seeing each other, quietly. Never here." She kept her tone even, as if she were giving a post-search report. "We went skiing, had dinner together a few times. I thought he was...I don't know. Interesting. Action-oriented. He wasn't one of the usual suspects involved in my search-and-rescue work."

"A fresh face," Nick said.

She nodded, determined to get this over with. "He was fascinated by what I do, or pretended to be. He loved Vermont. I was in the mood for a little romance in my life."

"That's not how it worked out."

"It never does work out that way, does it?"

"Flowers, chocolates. Romance isn't that hard." Nick patted Ranger and shrugged. "It might get tough if I had to write a poem."

She smiled at him. "I'll settle for flowers and chocolate."

"Cutshaw?"

"He was about conquering and control. He assumed I'd go along with him without question, but I said no. He didn't like it. He was nasty. Threatening, belittling, abusive. He didn't physically hurt me. He wouldn't have dared."

"Verbal abuse can flatten people."

"Yes, it can. He was very manipulative. Moody and mercurial. I never knew if I would get the Bad Derek or the Good Derek. I didn't put up with it for long, but I put up with it for too long. I was in a tough place and I wanted to believe in the Good Derek." She was aware of Nick's eyes on her, but she concentrated on the view of the mountains she loved. "I don't like talking about this."

"Understood."

"Derek went from calling me at inappropriate times to being openly hostile after I told him I didn't want a relationship with him. He never left a trail, and I wasn't sure who'd believe me that he was as awful as he was." She shifted her gaze to the evergreen shrubs, the trampled snow from last night. "Vivian Whittaker was psychologically abusive toward her husband. I'm not saying that's why he did what he did."

"You got away from Cutshaw. Lowell stayed with his wife."

"Derek and I saw each other for less than six weeks. He thought he was doing me a favor by being interested in me at all. He was used to women falling all over him. He couldn't believe I would walk away." She turned back to Nick. "He made sure I knew he didn't think I was anything special."

Nick tucked a few windblown strands of hair off her face, out of her eyes. "You're beautiful, Rose, and you're sexy as hell."

"Sure, Nick. I'm out here in one of my father's old flannel shirts."

He grinned at her. "With your blue eyes standing out against the snow and your cheeks pink with the wind and the cold."

She groaned. "Sure, Nick."

"Cutshaw was a fool if he treated you as anything but a strong, desirable woman." Pain flashed in his eyes. "Me, too."

"You're nothing like he was." She tugged open the storm door. "I told you about Derek because of what's happened in the past forty-eight hours. The rest doesn't matter."

"It does matter."

She felt her throat tighten. "You're good-looking, rich, rugged. You can have any woman--"

"No, I can't. No one can, and who'd want to? Come on. Give me a break. Some guys would say one woman's plenty."

"Some women would say no man is fine."

"From what I remember, that wouldn't be you."

She couldn't help but smile. "Bastard."

He slipped an arm around her middle and drew her close to him. "I'm sorry Derek Cutshaw was such a son of a bitch, but he's in the past. He was in the past when you and I got together."

"Got together, Nick?"

"Yeah." He kissed her on the top of the head and tightened his hold on her. "Very together."

"We had a one-night stand." She didn't wait for him to respond and pulled away from him as she entered the house. "We can grab something to eat at the cafe on our way out to the Whittaker place."

He waited a half beat before responding. "All right. Sounds good."

"Sorry if I was prickly."

"That was nothing. You forget I've been friends with a Cameron for ten years. I figure you held back. I'm lucky."

Rose laughed as she dug the tennis ball out of her pocket and set it in the closet along with a dozen others. "You wanted to make me laugh, didn't you?"

"Always." But Nick was serious now. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You got away from Cutshaw. That's what counts."

"I thought of myself as so strong..."

"A hit to your ego like that undermines your confidence. Only thing to do is to get back up and carry on." His voice was quiet, his eyes on her. "Being strong doesn't mean you never get hurt."

"Or do something stupid."

He smiled. "That, too."

She took one of Ranger's leashes from the closet. "Nick, what if Derek somehow knew about us and went into a jealous rage and arranged to kill himself so that I'd find his body?"

"From everything I've heard, he wasn't even remotely suicidal."

"I keep asking myself why was he out there. What did he want with me?" She started back to the door but stopped abruptly. "Why now, Nick? Why are you here now? Is there anything you haven't told me?"

"The timing was right. That's all. Nothing more."

"Right for what?"

"To make sure you were okay, and to see if there was any indication Jasper was killed by Lowell's network. Informally," Nick added. "I'm not part of any investigation."

Rose yanked open the front door again. "We can take my Jeep out to the river."

Nick touched her upper arm, stopping her. "Rose," he said, "I haven't told anyone about us because I promised I wouldn't. That doesn't mean I regret making love to you. I don't."

She held on to the doorknob, letting cold air seep into her house. "Hannah suspects."

"Hannah
knows
. She's good at reading people, especially her friends," Nick said, obviously liking her. "A prosecutor in the making."

"I told her she didn't have to keep any secrets from Sean."

"Yeah, I know. I had a text message from him waiting for me this morning."

"What did it say?"

"My sister?"
Nick winked at her. "Sums it up, doesn't it?"

Rose pulled the door open wider. "I guess it does. I probably should be more embarrassed than I am. I'd hoped he didn't have to find out."

"Hell, so did I, but not for my sake. Sean and I have covered a lot of ground together."

"I can assure him you didn't take advantage of me."

Nick shook his head. "He won't ask. He was just telling me he knows. The rest is none of his business. He understands that."

"Then Hannah told him about Derek, too." Rose groaned. "I said she could, but I hate this. Derek was already at the Whittaker place when you arrived. Could he have known or guessed you were on your way and just got there first? Maybe he wasn't there to see me at all."

"I didn't know until I woke up at four-thirty that I'd head out there. I was lucky A.J. gave me directions. Derek was dead by then." Sunlight angled through the door, shining on his striking hair, his dark eyes. "We're speculating."

"Which can lead to trouble--just as it does in a search." She motioned for Ranger to come to her and clipped the leash onto his collar. "I'm neutral about you, Nick."

"Neutral? What's that mean? You didn't want to crawl under my hand-knitted afghan last night, or you didn't even think about it?"

She'd thought about it. She'd wanted to. Had he thought about knocking on her bedroom door?

She said nothing and headed back outside with Ranger.

"So neutral means you're resisting being attracted to me," Nick said as he trotted down the steps behind her.

She glanced back at him. "Could I say the same about you?"

"I'm not neutral, and I'm not resisting."

"Then you're--"

"Restraining myself. You're under duress. We already did that. It didn't work out so well."

"We were both under duress in June." She stopped at the bottom of the steps, choking on her words, then forced herself to continue. "If one of Lowell's killers created that hot spot and lured Jasper Vanderhorn into it--"

"Don't jump ahead."

"Nick,
could
Jasper's serial arsonist be in Black Falls?"

"Jasper's serial arsonist might not even exist. He never could prove his theory. One thing at a time, Rose," Nick said quietly, winking at her as he opened the back of her Jeep for Ranger. "Let's go to Three Sisters Cafe and see what's cooking."

Ninety minutes later, Rose let Ranger out of the back of her Jeep. He leaped onto the snow-packed driveway of the sprawling Whittaker estate, which, she thought, had to occupy one of the most scenic stretches of the shallow, twisting branch of the Black River.

Nick went ahead of her onto the shoveled walk. She tried to relax, but sitting next to him on the drive into the village, then across from him at the cafe and again on the drive out to the river had nearly done her in.

He was the sexiest man she'd ever met.

Telling him about Derek--giving Hannah permission to tell Sean and Beth--had been difficult but also a relief. Her past with Derek had turned into a secret that rapidly had taken on a life of its own. Derek's lies and exaggerations and the fight at O'Rourke's had only made matters worse.

For months, Rose had wondered if she'd have fallen into bed with Nick if not for her brief, awful relationship with Derek Cutshaw.

Ranger looked up at her, as if he remembered that their last visit here hadn't gone well. The wind whipped the dusting of snow into the cold, clear air.

Nick eased close to her, putting a hand on her hip. "Hold on."

"I see," she said, noticing a man coming down the walk from the boarded-up farmhouse, then recognized Brett Griffin.

Brett waved as he approached them, his camera hanging from his neck. "I heard the investigators were done here and thought I'd stop by and see for myself." He gestured down the slope toward the stone guesthouse. "I parked in the turnaround and walked up the road. It's windy as all get-out. Took me by surprise."