Cold Pursuit

Sixteen

Her cabin got so cold overnight, Jo wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d had to chip ice off herself when she crawled out of bed. She pulled on her new wool socks and headed to the shower. The ancient propane heater was trying, but the place wasn’t even remotely warm. At least no one had slipped in overnight and stolen food out of her refrigerator or attacked her in the dark.

“Always a positive when waking up,” she muttered, turning on the water in the shower. She waited until it was steaming before she stripped and got in.

She was toweling off when she heard a knock on the door, which just helped her hurry into her clothes that much faster. She figured she’d be up on the mountain today and put her new wool socks back on, the one pair of wool pants she’d brought up to Vermont with her and, for layering, a moisture-wicking exercise shirt and a wool pullover sweater.

When she yanked open the door, she expected to see Elijah, but instead, a short-haired, broad-shouldered man in expensive cold-weather hiking attire greeted her politely. “Special Agent Harper? My name’s Kyle Rigby. Thomas Asher asked me to stop by and let you know I’ll be checking on his daughter and getting her back to Washington.”

“You’re…what? A friend?”

He gave a small smile. “Mr. Asher and I have never met. He hired me.” The smile disappeared. “Feel free to check with him yourself. He appreciates your efforts, but he doesn’t want to impose on your friendship or put you in an awkward position-he didn’t expect Nora to take off this way.”

“No one did.” Jo stepped out onto the front step in her stocking feet, letting the door swing shut behind her; she didn’t want any heat to escape. She eyed the big man in front of her. His parka was unzipped, and he wasn’t wearing a hat or gloves. She didn’t see a backpack but suspected he would have everything he needed for a November hike. She asked, “Are you familiar with the area, Mr. Rigby?”

“Kyle,” he said. “And you’re Jo, right?” When she didn’t answer, he continued in the same clipped, professional tone. “Mr. Asher doesn’t like the idea of Nora being out on the mountains by herself, especially given the shock she’s had. He prefers to keep the situation private. Involving you, given your job…” Rigby didn’t shift his gaze from her. “It’s simpler to hire me.”

“Do you have search-and-rescue experience?”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Are you working with a team?”

“Like I said, I know what I’m doing. I’m here to get Nora Asher safely back to her family. That’s it. I don’t doubt everyone here will cooperate to make sure that happens.”

“Did Thomas give you any update on the investigation into Ambassador Bruni’s death?”

“No, but that’s not why I’m here. Sorry, I don’t have a lot of time. Sunset’s around 4:00 p.m. and the forecast calls for a fair amount of snow at higher elevations in the next couple of days. Nora’s inexperienced and very upset. It’d be good to find her.” He dipped a big hand inside his jacket, withdrew a business card and handed it to Jo. “Call me on my cell phone if anything comes up. Leave me a message if I’m out of range.”

“I’ll do that. Where are you staying?”

“The second apartment in the Whittakers’ guesthouse. They insisted through Mr. Asher that I stay there. It’s decent of them.”

“Were you there last night?”

He shook his head. “I dumped my stuff off before I drove out here. I’d hoped Nora had come back during the night.” He shrugged. “But she didn’t.”

“What’s your plan now?”

He ignored her question and walked back to his car. Jo remained on her step and watched him drive off down the dirt road, the sun higher now, glistening on the lake. Then she directed her attention to the trees behind the next cabin, where she’d noticed a slight movement.

Elijah stepped out from behind a hemlock with a.30-06 rifle balanced comfortably on one shoulder. “Off the case, are you?”

“There is no case. Thomas has a right to hire someone if he wants to.” Jo crossed her arms to keep herself warm. “Elijah, is that a freaking machine gun?”

“Rifle. You know the difference, Ms. Secret Agent.”

“Secret Service agent. Which you know.”

“It’s almost deer season. I was cleaning my hunting rifle.”

“You’ve never gone deer hunting in your life.”

“Once. I was thirteen.” He stayed close to the woods, the morning sun glinting on the rust-colored oak leaves behind him. “I went up on the mountain with my father, and I got a buck in my sights-a big guy.”

“You didn’t fire,” Jo said. “I’d have heard the story if you had. Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. My father didn’t understand, either, but I never took to hunting. That was years before he left you this property.”

“So it was.”

“He was a good man, but he never gave people something for nothing.” Elijah’s eyes, with their piercing Cameron blue, settled on her. “I figured he owed you.”

“If he did, it was in his own mind, not mine.”

“Maybe so.”

Jo wasn’t about to tell him about his father’s vision of the children they’d never have; that part of their conversation was between her and Drew. But she couldn’t help wondering how much her response to Elijah last night-the taste of him, the feel of his body hard against hers-had to do with her visit with his father. For the past seven months, she’d been thinking about Elijah in a way she hadn’t before Drew Cameron had turned up at her Washington apartment.

But such thinking wasn’t going to get her anywhere, and she dropped her arms from her chest. “Take your rifle and go home, Elijah. I need to get back inside. My hair’s turning to icicles.”

“Cold morning for a shower in a barely heated cabin.”

“At least there is a shower, although sometimes it’d be nice to have a tub.”

“I have one at my place if you ever-”

“Thanks.” She cut him off quickly. Today, she’d promised herself, would be different. Her life was complicated enough right now without kissing her neighbor and one-time lover. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You could always borrow my bathrobe if you didn’t bring one with you.”

“No way do you have a bathrobe, Elijah.”

He looked amused. “You don’t think so?”

She opened the cabin door, sorry she’d brought up the subject. But he didn’t move, just stood there with his rifle still on his shoulder. She frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

“Picturing what kind of bathrobe you have.”

“I don’t own a bathrobe.”

It was the wrong answer. He grinned at her. “Even better.”

“Go drink a gallon of coffee, Elijah. You need it.”

But his grin faded, and he said seriously, “Put a pot on. I’ll be back in ten. I need to talk to you about your new best friend in Washington.”

“My new…” Jo took a breath. “Charlie Neal? Elijah-”

“He’s fine. Has a hell of an imagination. Coffee, okay?”

He headed back through the trees to his house, and she shut the door hard behind her, wishing she weren’t even a little attracted to him. But she was a lot attracted, not so much a shock as a pointed reminder of why she should have resisted coming back to Black Falls.

Assassins.

Only Charlie.

Jo shook her head over coffee with Elijah in her cabin. They sat at the table with the vase of lilies Charlie had sent her. “He has an active imagination. He reads, plays video games and has fantasy airsoft firefights. He doesn’t sit in on White House briefings.”

Elijah gave her a steady, measured look that reminded her he was an experienced Special Forces soldier. “So, you don’t know anything about assassins?”

“If I knew anything about an assassination team at work in Washington or Black Falls or anywhere else, I wouldn’t be sitting here having coffee with you and talking about a sixteen-year-old kid-even if he is the son of the vice president. Charlie doesn’t believe his father or any of his father’s friends are targets, does he?”

“We didn’t get into it.”

“Elijah…” She got up with her coffee mug. The cabin felt warmer, but she doubted it was. “Does he think I’m here undercover?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Anything’s possible with Charlie. He’s manipulative and very smart.”

“He’s not so smart that he didn’t talk himself out of that airsoft prank, but he’s smart enough to have sent you flowers.”

“It’ll take more than flowers for me to warm back up to him.”

“Nah. You like that kid. You’re a soft touch, Agent Harper.” But as he rose to his feet, Elijah’s tight expression suggested that Charlie Neal had gotten to him, too. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out the front door. The only door, I should say.”

“You’re familiar with search-and-rescue protocols. If you plan to find Nora and Devin, the best starting point is to figure out where they were last seen and to interview the people who’ve talked to them most recently-friends, family, coworkers. Charging into the mountains willy-nilly by yourself isn’t the smartest course of action.”

“Willy-nilly?” He grinned as he headed for the door. “I don’t know as I’ve ever heard anyone use willy-nilly in a sentence. See you, Jo.”

After he left, Jo waited until his truck passed by her cabin before she put on her fleece jacket over her sweater and headed outside. The sun sparkled on the lake and frosty grass, a picturesque scene, if different from the blazing colors of early October or the rich greens of summer. She did a quick check of the cabins in daylight, but they all looked fine-no sign of intruders, campers, picnickers or even wild turkeys.

She thrashed through the woods over to the trail up to the lodge and dialed Mark Francona from a rock with a particularly beautiful view of the lake. He picked up on the first ring. “Too cold this morning for canoeing?”

“I can see the breath in front of my face, if you consider that cold.”

“I do.” He gave an audible sigh. There was no humor in his voice now. “Washington PD got an anonymous tip about a possible eyewitness yesterday. A bicycle messenger. Woman.”

“That’s a solid lead, then. Mark…” Jo hesitated, then plunged in. “Is it possible that an assassination team targeted Ambassador Bruni?”

A half beat’s pause. “Who’ve you been talking to?”

“Just overheard idle talk at the watercooler.”

“I’ve heard about your place in Vermont, Harper.” The Francona wit had returned. “You’re lucky to have flush toilets, let alone watercoolers.”

“Does that mean there are no assassins on the loose?”

“There are always assassins on the loose,” he said and hung up.

Jo dialed him again and got his voice mail. She didn’t leave a message. She could call Charlie out of class at his private school in northern Virginia and ask him to clarify what he’d said to Elijah, but Charlie would have covered his tracks and would deny the conversation-he was resourceful, intelligent, bored and under the close watch of her colleagues in the Secret Service.

So it was drama, and Charlie manipulating her, and she shouldn’t bite and end up the victim of another of his pranks.

She continued up the three-quarter-mile trail to Black Falls Lodge, but there was no marker-no fence, no mean dogs-that indicated when she’d crossed onto Cameron land. The trail ended at the far corner of the meadow below the lodge. Out in the open, the air was even colder. She slipped as she crossed the frost-dampened grass to the walk, following it up to the stone terrace.

She found A.J. taking down umbrellas at the tables, hatless, working without gloves. He acknowledged her presence with a curt nod. “Cold morning for a hike,” he said.

Jo couldn’t argue. “I thought I might find Nora and Devin sitting by the fire. I was hoping they’d come down off the mountain looking for pancakes and hot maple syrup.”

“No such luck.”

She looked out at the wide sloping meadow from which she’d just come, the mountains blue and gray out across from the ridge. “It’s a beautiful spot. Easy to forget when you’re not here.”

“It’s easy for some people never to notice even when they are here.”

Jo thought he might be making a gibe at her youthful self but let it pass. “A.J., did your father have much to do with Ambassador Bruni when he was up here?”

“It’s possible. Pop did his own thing.” A.J. laid a tall, rust-colored umbrella against a table with three others. He stood up straight, the wind catching the ends of his hair as he studied her. “Where are you going with this, Jo?”

“Nowhere. I’m just spitting in the ocean. It’s not the best way to do things, I know, but-”

“You’re at a loose end right now. Don’t go looking for things that aren’t there just because you’re bored or need a distraction.” He turned abruptly and tackled another umbrella. “Elijah’s had a rough year. You might keep that in mind.”

Her breath caught at his words, but she tried to smile. “Since when have you started looking after your baby brother? You used to have apple fights-didn’t one of you end up with stitches?”

“Sean did. Third man in.” A.J. abandoned his umbrella and gave her a faint smile, his blue eyes unreadable in the bright morning light. “You were one of us growing up, Jo, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“Just don’t say that where my father can hear you. What did you plan to do with the lakefront property?”

“Doesn’t matter now.”

“It belonged to a Harper for most of the past century-”

“Lauren says maybe that land wasn’t meant for us. People don’t really come here for the lake. They can rent a kayak, but they want the mountains. Hiking, biking, skiing, the views, the quiet, the waterfall. We’re doing fine.”

“I’m glad, A.J.”

But he looked troubled as he squinted out toward the mountains. “People get lost out here from time to time, but it’s rare for someone to actually die. Pop…” He trailed off, then seemed to make an effort to be conversational. “How’s the cabin?”

“It has bats. Don’t tell Elijah. I think he’s afraid of bats.”

A.J. gave her one of his glimmers of a smile. “Stay here and look at the view to your heart’s content.”

“You wouldn’t be trying to stall me again, would you, A.J.?”

“I’d never stall the law two days in a row.”

Wishing she had Kyle Rigby’s parka, Jo left A.J. to his work and walked out to the topographical-map sign on the edge of the parking lot, which, she hoped, would help jog her memory. She was rusty. She’d repressed a lot of memories of hiking in the area, since most of them involved Elijah. With the impressive network of recreational trails, Nora could go for miles-days-if she had the supplies, the energy, the will. Assuming she had, in fact, started up the east trail at midday yesterday, she could be almost anywhere by now.

Jo was joined by Lauren Cameron, no toddlers at her side now. She had an athletic build and a striking beauty that, according to town gossip, A.J. had barely noticed at first, so preoccupied had he been with work six years ago. She’d come to Black Falls Lodge to escape an abusive relationship and ended up staying.

“If you’re wondering where Devin found Drew,” she said, “I can point out the exact spot to you.”

“It’s okay. I know,” Jo said quietly, sensing Lauren’s pain. “Drew was so proud of little Baylee and Jim. He showed me pictures of them when I saw him last.”

Lauren studied her a moment, then said, “I had a feeling he saw you on that trip of his in April. A.J. always envisioned our kids growing up with cousins close by, but I guess that’s one of the prices he pays as the eldest. Elijah, Sean and Rose haven’t met their soul mates yet, or if they have, they haven’t figured it out.”

“Their time will come.”

“They might need someone to hit them over the head with a two-by-four to figure things out.” Lauren gave a quick laugh that lit up her hazel eyes. “The Camerons can be thick.”

“What a shock,” Jo said with a smile.

Lauren nodded to the map. “We looked everywhere for Drew once we realized he was missing. It was awful, Jo. Then finding out about Elijah.” She shook her head. “Rose in particular had a hard time. She’s been pushing herself nonstop since then. Now Elijah’s back…”

Jo frowned at her. “Lauren?”

She sighed. “He’s looking for answers that he just might never get.”

“About Drew, you mean.”

She didn’t respond, just inclined her head toward the mountain. “Elijah’s up there. He found Devin’s truck near the falls trail.” She hesitated, then said, “Jo, maybe you should be up there, too.”

“A.J. did stall me.”

Lauren managed a quick smile. “He’ll consider that a small victory.”