Tess Gerritsen: Ice Cold

“You’ve changed.”

“No. Beneath this Brooks Brothers blazer still beats the heart of a beach bum. Medicine’s just my job, Maura. It pays the bills. It’s not who I am.”

“And what do you imagine I am?”

“The same person you were at Stanford. Competent. Professional. Not one to make mistakes.”

“I wish that were true. I wish I didn’t make mistakes.”

“This man you’re seeing, is he a mistake?”

“I’m not ready to admit that.”

“Do you regret it?”

His question made her pause, not because she was unsure of the answer. She knew she was not happy. Yes, there were moments of bliss when she’d hear Daniel’s car in the driveway or his knock on her door. But there were also the nights when she sat alone at her kitchen table, drinking too many glasses of wine. Nursing too many resentments.

“I don’t know,” she finally said.

“I’ve never regretted anything.”

“Even your marriage?”

“Even my disaster of a marriage. I believe that every experience, every wrong decision, teaches us something. That’s why we shouldn’t be afraid to make mistakes. I jump into things with both feet, and sometimes it gets me into hot water. But in the end, everything has a way of working out.”

“So you just trust in the universe?”

“I do. And I sleep very well at night. No doubts, no closet full of anxieties. Life’s too short for that. We should just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

The waiter came to clear away the dishes. While she had finished only half her meal, Doug had cleaned his plate, devouring his lamb chops the way he seemed to devour life itself, with joyous abandon. He ordered cheesecake and coffee for dessert; Maura asked only for chamomile tea. When it all arrived, he slid the cheesecake halfway between them.

“Go on,” he said. “I know you want some.”

Laughing, she picked up her fork and took a generous bite. “You’re a bad influence.”

“If we were all well behaved, how boring would life be? Besides, cheesecake is only a minor sin.”

“I’ll have to repent when I get home.”

“When are you headed back?”

“Not till Sunday afternoon. I thought I’d stay an extra day and take in some of the scenery. Jackson Hole ’s pretty spectacular.”

“Are you touring around on your own?”

“Unless some gorgeous man volunteers to show me around.”

He took a bite of cheesecake and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “I don’t know about coming up with a gorgeous man,” he said. “But I could offer you an alternative. My daughter, Grace, is here with me. She’s out tonight at the movies with two of my friends from San Diego. We were planning to drive to a cross-country ski lodge on Saturday and spend the night. We’d be back Sunday morning. There’s room for you in the Suburban. And I’m sure there’s room at the lodge, too, if you’d like to join us.”

She shook her head. “I’d be a fifth wheel.”

“Not at all. They’d love you. And I think you’d like them, too. Arlo’s one of my best friends. By day, he’s a boring accountant. But by night…” Doug’s voice dropped to a sinister growl. “He turns into a celebrity known as the Mysterious Mr. Chops.”

“Who?”

“Just one of the most popular food and wine bloggers on the Web. He’s eaten at every Michelin-starred restaurant in America, and he’s working his way through Europe. I just call him Jaws.”

Maura laughed. “He sounds like fun. And the other friend?”

“Elaine. The gal he’s been dating for years. She does something with interior design, I don’t know what. I think you two would hit it off. Plus, you’d get to meet Grace.”

She took another bite of cheesecake and took her time chewing. Considering.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m proposing marriage,” he teased. “It’s just an overnight road trip, properly chaperoned by my thirteen-year-old daughter.” He leaned in closer, his blue eyes focused intently. “Come on. My wild and crazy ideas almost always end up being fun.”

“Almost always?”

“There’s that unpredictability factor, that chance that something completely unexpected-something amazing-could happen. That’s what makes life an adventure. Sometimes you just have to jump in and trust in the universe.”

At that moment, staring into his eyes, she felt that Doug Comley saw her the way few people did. That he was looking past her defensive armor to see the woman inside. A woman who’d always been afraid of where her heart might take her.

She looked down at the dessert plate. The cheesecake was gone; she didn’t remember having finished it. “Let me give it some thought,” she said.

“Of course.” He laughed. “You wouldn’t be Maura Isles if you didn’t.”

THAT NIGHT, back in her hotel room, she called Daniel.

By his tone of voice, she knew that he was not alone. He was polite but impersonal, as though speaking to any parishioner. In the background she could hear voices discussing the price of heating fuel, the cost of repairing the roof, the drop-off in donations. It was a church budget meeting.

“How is it out there?” he asked. Pleasant and neutral.

“A lot colder than Boston. There’s already snow on the ground.”

“It hasn’t stopped raining here.”

“I’ll be landing Sunday night. Can you still pick me up at the airport?”

“I’ll be there.”

“And afterward? We can have a late supper at my house, if you’d like to stay the night.”

A pause. “I’m not sure I can. Let me think about it.”

It was almost the same answer she’d given Doug earlier that evening. And she remembered what he’d said. Sometimes you just have to jump in and trust in the universe.

“Can I call you back Saturday?” he said. “I’ll know my schedule then.”

“Okay. But if you can’t reach me, don’t worry. I may be out of cell phone range.”

“Talk to you then.”

There was no parting I love you, just a quiet goodbye and the conversation was over. The only intimacies they ever shared were behind closed doors. Every encounter was planned in advance, and afterward repeatedly analyzed. Too much thinking, Doug would have said. All that thinking hadn’t brought her happiness.

She picked up the hotel phone and dialed the operator. “Can you connect me to the room of Douglas Comley, please?” she said.

It took four rings for him to answer. “Hello?”

“It’s me,” she said. “Does the invitation still stand?”

THE ADVENTURE STARTED OFF WELL ENOUGH.

Friday night, the fellow travelers met for drinks. When Maura walked into the hotel cocktail lounge, she found Doug and his party already seated at a table, waiting for her. Arlo Zielinski looked like someone who had eaten his way through the Michelin guidebook-chubby and balding, a man with a hearty appetite and just as hearty a laugh.

“The more the merrier, I always say! And now we have an excuse to order two bottles of wine at dinner,” he said. “Stick with us, Maura, and I guarantee a good time, especially when Doug’s in charge.” He leaned in and whispered: “I can vouch for his moral character. I’ve done his taxes for years, and if anyone knows your most intimate secrets, it’s your accountant.”

“What’re you two whispering about?” asked Doug.

Arlo looked up innocently. “Just saying that the jury was totally rigged against you. They should never have convicted.”

Maura burst out laughing. Yes, she liked this friend of Doug’s.

But she wasn’t as sure about Elaine Salinger. Though the woman had sat smiling during the conversation, it was a tight smile. Everything about Elaine somehow seemed tight, from her skin-hugging black ski pants to her eerily unlined face. She was about Maura’s age and height, and model-thin, with a waistline to envy and the self-control to maintain it. While Doug, Maura, and Arlo split a bottle of wine, Elaine sipped only mineral water garnished with a slice of lime, and she virtuously shunned the bowl of nuts that Arlo was so enthusiastically digging in to. Maura could not see what these two had in common; she certainly could not imagine them dating.