Cold Ridge

Seven

Antonia had already tracked Ty down on his cell phone and given him an earful about leaving her sister on the loose in Boston, and now he was getting it from Manny Carrera. Ty just listened. They didn't realize what it was like to watch Carine do calf stretches on her porch-watch her as she sipped tea and tried to eat a scone on her way to a murder scene.

He'd lost her on the subway, picked her up again on Beacon Street. It wasn't as if he didn't know where she was going. He'd reminded Antonia of the promise she'd extracted from him last night not to make things worse for her sister. Hell, he was trying.

But as a practical matter, Antonia wanted Carine back in Cold Ridge, out of harm's way. Everyone did. It was the only reason Gus had let him out of town alive-because he figured Ty would come back with Carine, one way or another. She didn't like it that people worried about her, but they did. And not without cause. A year ago, she unwittingly disturbed a smuggling operation and came under fire while she was off taking pictures. Then she'd gone and fallen in love with him. Now it was out-and-out murder that had her life in an uproar, her family wanting to keep her safe.

She'd surprised him, sneaking into the Four Seasons and tracking down Manny. As usual, Manny's instincts were right on target-she wasn't going to back off. But that was Carine. She never backed off. Ty had seen her lie in wait for the perfect shot of a spruce grouse. She had focus, commitment, inner reserves. He remembered her making a break for it from behind her boulder last fall, zigzagging from tree to tree, launching herself down the hill, out of the line of fire. She might have made it out of there just fine if he hadn't been around.

Manny exhaled, looking out at the busy street. "I hope I put the fear of God in her. She was all set to jump in headfirst and prove my innocence."

"She likes you."

"Big deal. And that's not it. She has this strong moral compass. You know, this acute sense of right and wrong-as in, it was wrong for you to skip out on her a week before your wedding."

Ty didn't squirm. Nobody had liked what he'd done. "It was wrong for someone to murder this man, Louis Sanborn. If she wants to do the right thing, she should back off and let the police do their job."

"Not if she's not convinced they're going after the real killer. She'll feel it's her duty not to walk away."

"Because she found Louis," North said.

"Because she thinks she could have saved his life. He offered her a ride, and she refused. If she hadn't-"

"Then we'd have two dead bodies instead of one."

"Carine doesn't see it that way. And," Manny added, with obvious reluctance, "she thinks it's her fault the police are sniffing my trail."

"Is it?"

"Not really. She went screaming out of the house, and I was there. That put me on the scene, but-" He shrugged. "The police have more than that to go on."

North didn't ask what that was. If Manny intended to tell him, he'd already have done it. "Carine sees things the way she wants them to be, not necessarily the way they are. She has a rosy-eyed view of the world. You don't ever see her taking a picture of an osprey ripping apart a baby duck, do you?"

"Christ, North. I just had breakfast."

"You're making too much of her reasoning. She's just bored."

"Maybe. I don't know." Manny leaned back against the soft cushions of the couch and frowned at his longtime friend. "Why haven't you gotten her out of here by now?"

"Timing. She had to go back to the scene. Maybe she had to see you, too, but I should have prevented that. By the time I realized what was going on, she was sitting across from you."

"I should have told you where I was staying."

Ty didn't comment. "If I grabbed her too soon, she'd be impossible to keep still. She'd be back down here in a flash. Now-" He sighed, picturing her as she'd left the hotel. He knew her so well, her body language, the way she thought. "There's a chance."

"You're not giving yourself enough credit. Toss her butt in the back of your truck and beat a path to New Hampshire. You know how to hold a prisoner if you have to."

It had been a long night in his truck, Ty thought. He'd had to move it several times, and he was stiff. "I'm still an outsider in Cold Ridge."

"You've lived there your whole life-"

"Doesn't matter. The Winters have been there since 1800. Figure it out, Manny. I live in their old house."

"Your mother bought the place from a Winter?"

"No. A Winter built it. Last one moved out in 1878. Doesn't matter. I'd be holding a prisoner in enemy territory."

"You mean the bad-ass uncle wants you to go easy on her."

Ty shrugged. "I'm on death row with Gus as it is."

Manny leaned over and poured the last drops of coffee into his cup, not because he wanted more, North thought, but because he needed something to do. "You're sure you're not dragging your heels because you're afraid to face her?"

"I'd be afraid to face her if I'd done something I shouldn't have done. I didn't."

"Right," Manny said with open sarcasm. "Bet Carine looks at it that way, too."

North got to his feet. "I should head out before she gets too big a lead on me. You know what you're doing, Carrera?"

His friend relaxed his guard, his dark eyes showing his tension-his fear. "I came up here to recommend the Rancourts fire Louis Sanborn."

"That's reason for him to kill you, not the other way around."

"Suppose I got to him first, before he could kill me?"

"I'm not speculating, Manny.You want to tell me the whole story, fine. Tell it. Otherwise-"

"I've told you what I can. I don't have the whole story. There are gaps I need to fill in."

"Can you do it from here?" But Manny wasn't going to answer, and Ty didn't push him. "You know how to get in touch with me. Stay safe, okay?"

"If something happens to me and I can't-" He paused, searching for the right words, then went on, "If I can't function, remember I love Val. All right?"

"Yeah, Manny. Sure. She knows-"

"Just remember. I've got computer files-" He broke off. "That's all I'm saying. You'll remember."

North turned to cross the plush carpet, noting a woman with a PalmPilot, making no bones about watching him. A cop. She must have realized she'd been made. It wouldn't be easy to conduct covert surveillance on a man with Manny Carrera's training and experience. Maybe she was the reason for Manny's cryptic comment about loving his wife and computer files.

"One more favor," he said quietly.

Ty glanced back at him, not knowing what to expect.

"Eric-could you look in on my kid if you get the chance? I don't know if Val's talked to him. I haven't talked to either one of them. I don't like the idea of having to explain to the police why I called my family."

"What do you want me to tell him?"

"Not to worry."

Ty nodded without argument, because there was no way to tell Manny Carrera that a fourteen-year-old boy was going to think what he wanted to think, worry if he wanted to worry.

When North got back out to Tremont Street, he noticed the smell of exhaust fumes and the noise of the traffic speeding past him. He was used to making quick switches in his environment, but he'd never liked cities. Carine had been out of his sight for less than fifteen minutes, but he didn't think it'd be difficult to pick up her trail. She was on foot, and she was aimless, restless, ripe for doing something she shouldn't. The Winters were all risk-takers at heart. Even Carine, except none of them saw it.

She was a nature photographer. She had a camera with her. Maybe she'd slipped back into Boston Public Garden to take pictures of the trees.

Ty waited at a red light at the corner of Arlington and Tremont, debating his next move. Head to Copley Square? Turn onto Arlington and check Newbury Street? Or go back to the Rancourt house, or to Inman Square and her apartment-or chuck it and head back to New Hampshire without her. Mind his own damn business.

He hadn't made up his mind when she swooped up from the steps of the subway station on the corner, diving at him as if he'd just tried to mug her. She damn near knocked him on his ass.

He caught her around the middle. "Hey-babe, there are cops all over the place."

"You've been following me. For how long?"

He kept a tight hold on her, taking due note of her strong abdominal muscles and overall increased level of fitness. He'd followed her on her halfhearted run this morning-from the shape she was in, he'd guess she'd had better mornings.

"Not that long," he said. "Take it easy."

"Why should I?"

Good point. He held her arms down, but she kicked him. He had on khakis and his brown leather jacket, too warm for the city temperatures. He'd be working up a sweat with too much more of this. He grabbed her camera bag in self-defense. "Want me to throw this under a car? Come on. Get a grip. I have tender shins."

"You don't have tender anything. When did you get here?"

"Last night."

"You've been following me since last night?"

He dodged her next kick. People passed by, eyeing them nervously, and one guy pulled out his cell phone. North smiled, trying to look nonthreatening, and Carine, apparently realizing the scene she was making, backed off. Strands of hair had pulled out of her loose ponytail. She grabbed her camera bag back and adjusted it on her shoulder, breathing hard, a little wild-eyed.

"Manny sicced you on me, didn't he?" she demanded.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't thank me. Does it feel better to go on the offensive?"

She sighed, shaking her head. "I wish it did. At least I didn't push you out into traffic." She seemed calmer, but Ty could see the effects of the past twenty-four hours in the puffy, dark circles under her eyes, the paleness of her skin, the rigid hold she had on her camera bag. Her eyes, so damn blue, narrowed on him. "Are you on leave? I don't want you wasting any more of it on me. You can turn around and drive back to New Hampshire. There's a deli on Arlington. I'll buy you a sandwich for the road."

"Carine…hell, babe, you look like you're in tough shape. Let me-"

"Good. I'd hate to look great the day after I discovered a dead body." She looked up at the traffic light, apparently waiting for a walk sign. "And don't call me babe."

"Why'd you attack me?"

"I thought about throwing a rock through your windshield, but I couldn't find your truck. Or a rock."

North shrugged. "Makes sense, I guess."

"It was Manny who sent you, right? Gus wouldn't. He'd stonewall me if he knew you were on your way, but he would never ask you to keep an eye on me." She still didn't look around at North. "Does Manny think I'm in danger from the real murderer, or does he just not trust me to mind my own business?"

"Nobody trusts a Winter to mind their own business." He resisted touching her. "Damn it, I'm not going to stand out here talking murder with you. Let's go."

"The deli's just up Arlington -"

"You're not buying me a sandwich and sending me on my way."

A bit of color rose in her cheeks, and she refused to look at him, her shoulders hunched as she continued to wait for the walk signal. It came, but she didn't move. Ty remembered why he'd fallen in love with her-why, ultimately, he'd walked away from her. She was sensitive, loyal, artistic, a fighter and a dreamer. He was loyal and a fighter, but sensitive? Artistic? A dreamer? No way. Although she was the youngest of the Winter siblings and remembered their parents the least, she was also the one who seemed most affected by their deaths. She deserved a man who led a safer life than he did.

"This was a bad idea," Ty said, half under his breath. "All right, suit yourself. You're on your own."

She stood up straight and whipped around at him. "I am?"

"You bet. Go on. Scoot. I won't strong-arm you."

"You'll follow me," she said. "You're an expert in evading pursuit."

"I'd be doing the pursuing. That's a different skill."

"You'd manage."

"Not around here. I like the desert. Caves. Bugs to eat. A jungle's good, too. I could manage in a jungle."

She almost smiled. "You're totally impossible, Tyler. I don't know why I ever wanted to marry you." She thought a moment, then sighed. "But, seeing how you're listening to reason, I suppose I could let you drive me back to my apartment. I don't have the oomph to walk, and I don't think I could handle the subway again right now."

"Better me than the subway?" He grinned at her. "It's a start."

"You won't try to take me to New Hampshire against my will?"

"No, ma'am."

She looked faintly skeptical, but she was, at her core, the most trusting person he'd ever known. She wasn't naïve-she knew more than most about what life could throw at people, without rhyme nor reason. But she was an optimist, a glass-is-half-full type, a believer in truth and justice, all of which, in Ty's view, guaranteed she'd be a pain in the ass with Manny and this murder investigation. No wonder Manny had enlisted him to get rid of her.

Carine spotted his truck on Boylston and shot ahead of him, leaning against the passenger door until he got there to unlock it. She had her arms crossed, and more hairs had pulled out of her ponytail. "I know you're trained to resist the enemy," she said. "I probably could shove burning bamboo sticks under your fingernails, and you wouldn't talk."

"You're not the enemy." He unlocked her door and pulled it open. "And you wouldn't have the heart to torture me."

"I'd have the heart. There's just no point if it's not going to work."

She climbed into the truck, and when North got behind the wheel, he saw the tears in her eyes. But she turned away quickly and gazed out the passenger window. He started the engine. "Carine…ah, hell…"

"Feel like a heel, do you? Good." She sniffled, not looking at him. "Just don't get the idea that I'm not over you, because I am. I just need protein, that's all. I'm having a sugar low."

"You might be over me, but you're not neutral-"

"I've never been neutral about you. I wasn't neutral when I was six years old and you cut the tire-swing rope on me. It doesn't mean anything."

He let the engine idle a moment. "I'm sorry I hurty ou."

"You didn't hurt me, Ty. You did me a favor." She glanced at him sideways, her tears gone. "Isn't that what all the men who get cold feet say?"

"It wasn't cold feet."

"No, not you. You're way too tough for cold feet."

She wasn't going to give him an inch. He didn't blame her-she'd given him her heart, and he'd broken it.

He shifted his truck into gear. "Just for the record," he said, "I've never been neutral about you, either."