Cold Ridge

Sixteen

Ty tried to concentrate on the scenery as he drove Carine up the notch road, a pass in the mountains with a small lake, a waterfall, a rock-strewn brook, ledges, cliffs and breathtaking views. But it wasn't easy to focus on anything but the tense and distracted woman beside him. She wanted to see the Rancourts. He told her he didn't think it was a good idea. She said, fine, she'd rent a car. She'd take a bus back to Boston and get her own damn car. She'd hike up the ridge to the connecting trail that led down to the Rancourt house.

She wouldn't get Gus to take her, that was for damn sure. Gus didn't like the idea of her going up to the Ran-courts, either. She and Ty had dropped off the embarrassing pictures of Jodie Rancourt with the Cold Ridge police and met Gus for lunch at a village café. Gus didn't get it. Why would Carine want to see the Ran-courts? Why would they want to see her?

But Gus couldn't talk her out of it, and Ty sure as hell couldn't. They tried all through lunch. The café was owned by a couple of ex-hippies who scrawled their daily menu on a chalkboard. Carine had turned over her digital camera and camera bag as well as the memory disk. The police had warned her to expect a visit from the Boston detectives now on their way to New Hampshire to pick up the evidence-they'd want to talk to her, as well as the Rancourts.

Carine had hardly touched her sweet potato chowder. Gus had a bowl, too, but Ty didn't go near it-he had a bacon-lettuce-and-tomato sandwich. He didn't like Carine's lack of appetite. "Flutter kicks'll really kill you if you don't keep up your strength," he told her.

"They kill me, anyway."

"Why are you doing flutter kicks? Why not just take an exercise class in Cambridge? Pilates. Kickboxing. Something like that."

She'd given him a smile that he couldn't quite read. "Maybe I'm training for a triathlon."

"Okay. You've always been fit. You need to do flutter kicks to train for a triathalon?"

"Can't hurt." She seemed evasive. "I have endurance. I don't have a lot of power and speed. I'm working on it, though. You can swim twenty-five meters under water on one breath, right?"

He suspected she was trying to distract herself-or distract him. "It's not something I do every day-"

"How did you do it at all?"

"Willpower."

"I have willpower."

"When it comes to a picture you want. You'll wait around for the wind to blow the right way a lot longer than I ever would. But swimming underwater-nothing's at stake for you if you pop up for another breath. For me, it was a requirement. I had to do it."

"You're saying if you want to be a PJ bad enough, you'll stay under."

"It helps."

"That's a crock. I think it has more to do with lung capacity and efficient strokes."

He grinned. "There's that, too."

But she hadn't smiled back, and he knew the illicit pictures bothered her. She'd liked and trusted Jodie Rancourt and Louis Sanborn, but they'd committed adultery in such a way that she'd become involved. She felt used, tainted.

Gus had shaken his head over his soup. "I thought you'd be out of the fray up here, but now they're all up here with you. The Rancourts, this Gary Turner. Next it'll be Manny Carrera."

Gus was all for outfitting his niece for a three-day hike in the mountains. He even said Ty could go with her, seeing how he was more like a brother to her these days. That was designed, Ty had no doubt, to draw a response from Carine, and it did, just not the one Gus expected. He'd wanted, clearly, a hint about what was going on with the two of them. Instead, she shoved her bowl across the table at him and stormed out of the café.

"I guess 'brother' was a bad choice of word," Gus said, not particularly remorseful. "North?"

"I'm doing the best I can, Gus."

"No, you're not. You're just as scared as she is."

"Doesn't matter. I'll do what I have to do."

"To keep her safe-or to keep Manny Carrera safe? Whose side are you on? His or Carine's?"

Ty had attempted a joke. "I'm on the side of truth and justice," he'd said, but Gus didn't laugh, instead sticking him with the bill.

The access road to the Rancourt property snaked up a fifteen-hundred-foot rise of pitted pavement with one bona fide hairpin turn. It wasn't the sort of location people who lived in the region full-time generally chose for their homes, even if they could afford it. Ty glanced at Carine as he negotiated a relatively straight incline, the hill falling away on her side, the bare-limbed trees offering vistas that seemed almost endless. "We still have time to give this up and take Gus's advice and disappear in the mountains for a few days."

She smiled briefly. "Do you still have a taste for beef jerky? I remember as a kid you'd grab a piece of beef jerky and head up the ridge. You weren't even eight years old. I don't know how you lived."

"I don't know, either but I've got MREs these days. Good stuff."

"Purloined 'meals ready to eat.' Well, I understand they're better than they used to be. The prepackaged camping foods certainly are." She looked out her window, the road twisting again now, evergreens hanging over rock outcroppings. "Once I pass the PJ Physical Abilities and Stamina Test, I'm going to take one of the Appalachian Mountain Club winter camping courses. I think that'd be a challenge."

"Once you pass the what?"

She glanced over at him, a welcome spark in her blue eyes. "The test aspiring PJs take to be accepted into the program."

"Ah. I forgot that's what it's called. Ominous. I just remember running my ass off, nearly drowning a few times, and sweating a lot. Indoc was more of the same, just worse. This explains all the running, swimming and flutter kicks?"

"I'm having fun. I've read up on what you do. All these years with you in and out of my life, and I never really knew much about what a PJ does. Is it true that instructors strap you into a helicopter, blindfold you and throw you in the water to see if you can get out?"

"It's a simulated helicopter."

"Real water."

"I remember," he said.

"You got out?"

He smiled. "I'm a PJ, right? I got out."

She sighed, staring back out her window, the distraction of PJ talk not lasting. "I shouldn't have gotten mad at Gus. He's just trying to help. He doesn't want to see me making the same mistakes all over again with you."

"Maybe, but he was also trying to make you mad. Get your blood up. Put some color in your cheeks."

"Well, it worked."

"You're lucky Gus hasn't locked you in your room by now."

Her vivid eyes stood out against her pale skin. "You taught me how to go out a window on a bedsheet."

"As if you needed teaching."

"It's the age difference. It was more telling when we were six and ten. Now-" She turned back to her window as they passed a steep, eroded embankment. "Never mind."

Ty could see she was preoccupied, dreading her visit with the Rancourts. "I can turn back."

She shook her head. "I need to do this."

He downshifted, taking the last section of hill before the road dead-ended at the Rancourt driveway and the start of the trail that merged with the main Cold Ridge trail. A wild turkey wandered into the road in front of them, and he stopped while it stood sentry for a dozen other turkeys that meandered out from the woods. Carine sat forward with a gasp of excitement, as if she'd never seen a wild turkey before. "Look at them! I wish I had my camera." She bit down on her lower lip, then added, reality intruding, "My Nikon."

Ty couldn't stand another second of seeing her so shattered by her experience in Boston, finding Louis Sanborn dead, running into Manny and now finding the four pictures that had appeared on her camera disk. "Ah, hell." He gripped the wheel, damn near stalling out. "Carine, I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. If I'd just married you-"

"Don't, Ty." Her voice was surprisingly gentle, more so than he deserved. "It doesn't help. Something worse might have happened if we'd gone through with the wedding. We don't know. We could have been robbed and killed on our honeymoon."

"We postponed a honeymoon. I only had a few days. I had to get back to Hurlburt-"

"You know what I mean."

Actually, he did. It was a rationalization, a way to make herself feel better about what he'd put her through. But he said nothing.

"Anyway, you didn't marry me," she went on. "And I didn't accept Louis's offer of a ride, and I didn't call the police from inside the Rancourt house and not run into Manny."

"That's not the same."

"You're not responsible for what's happened to me this week. Or last week. Or ever. I'm responsible for my own actions. Don't you think I understood the risks when I let myself fall for you? Ty-I've known you all my life."

He let the truck idle a moment. "When did you first want to sleep with me?"

She groaned. "You can be such a jackass, you know."

"Your sister says the jackass fairy must have visited me every night when I was a kid. You two work that one out together?"

"No, but I like it." This time her smile reached her eyes. "I wonder what a jackass fairy looks like."

"I'm really a nice guy. Everyone says so."

She went very still, her hands on her thighs. "You're the best, Ty. I've known that for a long, long time. But you're not-" She sighed, grinning suddenly, unexpectedly. "You're not normal."

"Normal?"

She nodded.

"Right. Like you are, she who can outstare an owl."

"Did you see my barred owl in the woods last fall? I think he knew I was going to be shot at. He flew away. I sometimes think if he hadn't, I might have been killed."

Ty shook his head. "Not to burst your bubble, babe, but it wasn't the owl that saved you. Those guys were using a scoped rifle. They missed you on purpose."

"You're probably right."

Carine settled back in her seat, and he continued up the road and turned onto the Rancourt driveway. Its blacktop was in better shape than the road, the sprawling house visible farther up on the hill.

"I think my digital camera's cursed," she said quietly. "When the police return it, I'm getting rid of it."

Ty stopped the truck at the bottom of the driveway and pulled on the emergency brake. When he reached over and touched her cheek, she didn't tell him to go to hell. "Your camera's not cursed. You're not cursed. And I loved you last winter. I loved you as much as I've ever loved anyone."

"I know."

He kissed her cheek, then her mouth, her lips parting. He threaded his fingers into her hair as their kiss deepened, memories flooding over him, regrets, longings-for her, for himself-but nothing that he could put to words.

She was the one who pulled away, brushing her fingertips across his jaw before she sat back in her seat. "You're a complicated man, Sergeant North."

"Not that damn complicated. I could pull over somewhere more private-"

"I think you've made your point."

Not very well, he thought. He knew Carine, and she'd be thinking he was just interested in sex and that was why he'd kissed her. And he was-he was very interested in sex. Hell, so was she. But his feelings toward her were more involved than that, only he didn't know how to get at them, crystallize them in a few words that made any sense. That was how he'd ended up waiting until the last minute to pull out of their wedding, just trying to think of how to say what he had to say, so that she'd understand and not blame herself. He got the blaming part right-she blamed him instead. But he'd mucked up getting her to understand.

He continued up the Rancourt driveway, which swept them into a parking area in front of an attached three-car garage. They were at a fairly high elevation, the expansive views of the surrounding mountains impressive, majestic more than intimate. The landscaping was natural and minimalist, designed to blend in with the environment, with a sloping lawn, stone walls and plantings limited to those that occurred in the area-flowers only in pots, no ornamental trees and shrubs. The glass-and-wood house was built into the hillside, two levels in front, one in back, with a screened porch and several decks. A separate dirt track curved up from the parking area to a rustic-looking outbuilding that Ty remembered served as a garden shed in summer and a kind of a warming hut in winter. It had its own potbellied wood-stove and a ground-level porch where the Rancourts and their guests could leave their skates and skis.

If they wanted to, Ty thought, Sterling and Jodie Rancourt could convert their place into a bed-and-breakfast or a ski club. It was big enough and had all the right amenities.

"I should go in there alone," Carine said, unbuckling her seat belt.

"I don't think so."

She let the seat belt snap back into place and looked over at him as if he hadn't kissed her at all, never mind that she regretted it. "Back off, okay? I'm not in any danger from the Rancourts."

Ty had no intention of backing off. "What if Louis Sanborn's murder is the result of a garden-variety domestic dispute? Sterling comes in, finds his wife and their new employee in the library and renders his own personal justice."

"And takes pictures before he starts shooting?"

"To keep the wife in line in the future."

"But he leaves the camera."

"Because Manny shows up."

Carine still was skeptical. " Sterling has an alibi."

"So did Jodie Rancourt. Hers didn't hold up, did it?" Ty unfastened his own seat belt-she wasn't going in there alone. "I'm playing devil's advocate, babe. All I'm saying is that anything's possible. And I'm with you all the way. That's not so bad, is it?"

She pushed open her door, one leg hanging out as she turned back to him and gave him a quick once-over. "You're not armed. If Sterling or Jodie or whoever decides to shoot me, they'll shoot you, too."

"Consider me a deterrent to violence." He gave her hisbestcockysmile."AndwhosaysIneedtobearmed?"

That drew a small laugh. She looked steady enough when she got out of the truck. Ty followed her up a short walkway to a flat stone landing at the front door. He leaned into Carine and whispered, "Don't you feel like you've just climbed the beanstalk to the ogre's castle?"

She bit back a smile, but she had her hands twisted together, obviously trying to keep them from shaking. It wasn't a pleasant errand she was conducting, but Ty knew she wouldn't give up now. That was Carine-in for a penny, in for a pound. Maybe it was her "strong moral compass" at work, but Ty suspected it was also plain stubbornness.

"We can still go camping," Ty said. "I'd keep you warm-"

"So would a good sleeping bag. Will you stop?"

But when Sterling Rancourt pulled open the door a moment later, Carine somehow managed to look less tentative and guilty. It wasn't her fault the police had the pictures of Jodie Rancourt and Louis Sanborn, but that only just now seemed to sink in. Sterling looked like a wealthy country gentleman in his wide-wale corduroys and Patagonia sweater, but it was clear he was prepared for this encounter with his photographer. He must have seen them coming up the driveway, Ty thought.

"Carine, Sergeant North," Rancourt said coolly. "What can I do for you?"

Ty checked out the guy's stiff manner. No tea by the fire today. But Carine, stuffing her hands in her pockets, not intimidated, plunged ahead. "I'm sorry about the disk, and I'm sorry things have turned out the way they have." She paused, but Rancourt didn't say a word, and she went on. "I didn't feel I could give the disk to Gary Turner. I had no idea what was on it-Sterling, I hope you believe me when I say that I had nothing to do with those pictures."

He shifted in the doorway, not meeting her eye. "I'm sure you did what you felt was right. It's not a pleasant situation for any of us, but I haven't seen the pictures. I'm not in a position to discuss them."

"I understand. Given what's happened, I think it's best I quit my job. Jodie has all the pictures I've taken so far. I really appreciate the opportunity you and Jodie gave me-"

"As you wish, Carine. Anything else?"

She took a breath. "No."

Rancourt tipped his head back slightly, studying her, but Ty wasn't fooled by his outward calm or superior manner. The other shoe about to drop-the guy was debating how big a jerk he was going to be to her. Payback. Carine had gone off the reservation. She hadn't turned over the disk to him when asked or consulted him about what to do once she realized what was on it. He'd had no control over what she did. He'd been powerless over her and the entire situation, and he didn't like it. To Ty, it was real simple.

"A bit of friendly advice before you leave." Ran-court's tone was anything but friendly. "If you want to make it in the real world in a big way and not limit yourself to taking pretty pictures of birds and flowers, you'll needto learntoget along with people.You're too independent."

Carine didn't go after him, but Ty saw her hands tighten into fists and knew she wanted to. He wanted to. But it was her show, so he kept still and let her handle the bastard. "You're upset," she said calmly, "and you've had a shock, so I'm not going to argue with you."

"I'm not trying to be harsh, but we live in a harsh world." Rancourt wasn't going to back off. "You've been lucky, Carine. You've lived up here in Cold Ridge most of your life. Sheltered, protected."

Right, Ty thought. That was how she'd ended up an orphan at three. Every fiber of his body focused on not interfering, not pounding this prick into the dirt for taking his humiliation and anger out on Carine. But she didn't say a word, just went pale again, as if she'd taken a body blow.

It didn't stop Rancourt. "If you want to achieve the kind of success I think you do. You'll have to change your ways."

She stiffened, but took the hit. She'd always been something of a hothead when it came to him, Ty thought, but she wasn't letting this guy get to her. Maybe she was cutting Rancourt some slack because she'd just given police pictures of his wife with another man. Maybe she didn't have the strength to fight him at the moment. Ty did-he could cheerfully knock Sterling Rancourt on his rich pompous ass.

"Ty," Carine said quietly, "we should leave."

But Rancourt wasn't ready to give up. "I'll take it on faith that you didn't take those pictures on Wednesday, Carine, but there's no proof, either way."

Ignoring him, she started back down the stone walk to the truck.

"It's never easy when you know what someone needs to do." Rancourt had shifted to Ty and spoke in a patronizing man-to-man tone. "I can see the mistakes she's making, not because I'm more brilliant or talented, but because of my circumstances, my experience-"

"You don't know anything about her work or her life."

"Perhaps you're right. But I'm in a position to help her, if she chooses to break from the course she's on-well, that's her call. Not everyone wants to play in the big leagues."

Carine reached the truck and sank against the driver-side door, facing the house. "Ty-whenever you're ready."

Rancourt smiled nastily, his attention still on Ty. "It's not easy to tell her what she needs to hear, is it? You've been there."

Ty felt every muscle in his body coil, but Rancourt suddenly slumped against the doorjamb and put up his hand, as if to ward off a blow he knew he deserved. "I'm sorry. I-Christ, I'm so sorry. It's been a terrible day. I don't know what I'm saying."

"Yeah. Okay." Ty didn't know what the hell to do. "Carine's right, we should leave."

Jodie Rancourt eased beside her husband. She looked tired and drawn, self-conscious, but also, Ty thought, curiously elegant, as if she was trying to maintain some level of dignity. "Please accept my apology, too. You and Carine. It's been a very difficult few days for all of us. I'm sorry I put you all in such an untenable position."

"Mrs. Rancourt-"

She smiled politely. "Jodie, please. I knew I was taking a risk, just as I knew we were taking a risk last November when we tried to hike Cold Ridge. As then, the consequences have been far worse than I ever imagined." She averted her eyes, her voice lowering, almost as if she were talking to herself. "That's something I'll have to learn to live with."

Her husband positioned himself in such a way that she had to step back into the entry or take an elbow in the cheek. She withdrew, and Rancourt shut the heavy door without another word.

Ty gave a low whistle as he walked back to his truck. "Yep. That went well."

Carine took her hands out of her pockets and breathed out in a long, cathartic sigh, then managed a halfhearted smile. "Some deterrent you were."

"Think of how much worse it would have been if I hadn't been there. He might have slugged you."

"I don't know, a black eye might have been easier to take."

Ty stood close to her, aware of her hurt, her lingering anger. It was cold on the exposed hill, the wind blowing up from the valley in gusts, penetrating his flannel shirt. He thought about zipping up his jacket, but Carine still had her barn coat unbuttoned. He had to keep up his image of strength. But his attempt at private humor didn't catch hold, and he knew all he wanted to do was get her out of there. "A few days in the mountains," he said. "It's still an option."

"Maybe I'll go take pictures of stupid birds and flowers."

"You're not going to let him get to you, are you?"

Her mouth twitched, her eyes sparking with sudden irreverence. "If I did, would you fly through the door and kick his teeth in?"

Ty shrugged. "Sure."

"Probably get in trouble with some general, wouldn't you?"

"Nah. I'd get a medal."

She sighed, releasing some of her tension. "He was rude and obnoxious, but he's hurting."

"He's not hurting, Carine, at least not in the way you mean. He's pissed that someone else played with his toy without his permission."

"Shoot-the-messenger time."

"Yep. And he doesn't like not being able to control you."

She gazed out at the beautiful view, the seemingly endless cascade of mountains-blue, white and gray against the November clouds. "Maybe it was selfish of me to come. I didn't make anything better."

"Not your job."

One of the garage doors hummed open, and Gary Turner walked out onto the parking area. "I failed in my mission, so now I'm on clean-the-SUV duty," he said with a self-deprecating smile, gesturing back to an expensive white SUV parked in the garage. But his smile didn't last, and he shook his head regretfully. "I overheard you all. Obviously I should have handled this situation differently."

"It's okay," Carine said. "At this point, what's done is done."

Ty opened his truck door, hoping Carine would take the hint and realize it was time to go, but she didn't. "Did Jodie Rancourt use my key yesterday and search my apartment for the disk?" she asked casually, as if it was only of passing interest to her. "The locks are tricky. She must have gotten frustrated or nervous, because she left the door open."

Turner gave an almost imperceptible nod. "She didn't take anything? No one took advantage of the situation?"

Carine shook her head.

"Then I hope we can leave what she did as an act of poor judgment on her part, nothing more. Since you did give her a key-"

"How did she know there were pictures?"

"I can't say. I'm sorry. There's nothing more I can tell you. The police asked us not to discuss our statements with anyone else."

"I understand."

She probably did, Ty thought, but it wouldn't stop her from listening if anyone wanted to talk. But he kept his mouth shut and climbed in behind the wheel. Turner led Carine around to the other side of the truck and opened the door for her. Ty noticed the missing fingers, mentally ticked off various possibilities of how people lose fingers. But mostly he noticed Turner's attentiveness toward Carine. He knew it shouldn't make a damn bit of difference to him, but it did.

"Coming up here was a mistake," Turner said, still very focused on Carine, edging in close to her as she climbed in the truck. "I'll encourage the Rancourts to head back to Boston as soon as possible. We all need to be patient and let the police conclude their investigation. Then we'll know what went on the other day."

"The Rancourts have as much right to be here as I do," Carine said.

"You could use the peace and quiet. I'll see you sometime. Take care of yourself."

"You, too. Thanks."

He shut her door, and Ty started back down the mountain way too fast. He almost two-wheeled it on a curve and slowed down, aware of Carine getting quieter and paler beside him. "You're not going to be sick, are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Good, because I just cleaned my truck."

She lifted her eyes to him, but it was obviously an effort to pull herself out of her thoughts. "You did not. It's filthy."

"It's not filthy. I got out all the wrappers and crud-"

"Look at the dashboard. Dust, grime. And you didn't vacuum."

"Vacuum? Babe, if I vacuumed, I might suck out something this thing needs to keep running. There's a certain balance of nature at work here. It's my New Hampshire truck. My truck on base is spotless."

She let a small smile escape. "Isn't there some general who can call and send you somewhere?"

He grinned. "Am I getting under your skin?"

"Underfoot," she said, "not under my skin. Maybe I miss Boston."

"The cockroaches or the kitty litter in the front hall?"

"There are no roaches in my building."

"I saw one the size of an alligator."

"Watch it, North. Once I've mastered the PAST, I'm going to become a marksman. Try my hand at tactical maneuvers."

"Soon the generals'll be calling you."

She shook her head. "You didn't hear me say I was planning to take up parachuting, did you? That's an unnatural act, jumping out of a perfectly good aircraft." She settled back in her seat, watching the passing scenery-rocks, evergreens, birches. No wild turkeys. Wherever they went on late November afternoons, presumably they were there. "At least I don't mind helicopters. Antonia hates them."

"And here she is married to a helicopter pilot."

"Life can be funny that way, can't it? She still says she's never going to be the doctor in the helicopter with the patient, not if she can help it. She'll be the doctor waiting at the hospital for the patient."

"Have you been on a helicopter?"

"A number of times, on various photography assignments." She sighed, adding dryly, "But I guess that wasn't in the 'real world.'"

"You don't have anything to prove," Ty said, slowing down for a series of ruts and potholes, "you or your sister."

She glanced over at him. "Neither do you."