Carla Neggers - Cold Ridge

"By Jodie Rancourt?"

He sighed. "Then you know."

"I don't know anything, but they were having an affair."

"She told her husband it was just that one time in the library. It's none of my business. I've tried not to interfere in their relationship. Of course, if anyone believed her affair with Louis had anything to do with his murder, I'd speak up."

"Have you told the police-no, never mind. That's not fair of me to ask. You must be in an incredibly difficult situation."

He paused a moment, his expression unreadable. "Regardless of the circumstances of how Louis came to me, I should have gone deeper into his background. I liked him, and I figured I'd keep an eye on him, see how he worked out."

She decided not to tell him about Manny's log, how sure he was that it was Louis he'd run into with Jodie Rancourt in Cold Ridge in September-under a different name. Maybe Turner knew, maybe he didn't. It wasn't for her to discuss the contents of a computer file that the police, after all, also had.

"I think we were all taken in," she said. "Gary-do you know who took the pictures in the library? It couldn't have been Jodie or Louis, but I suppose one or the other could have persuaded someone-"

"The pictures are irrelevant. I'm history with the Rancourts. I guess I don't blame them. "He seemed genuinely unconcerned. "After this week, they're skittish about the whole idea of hiring their own security experts. They'll probably contract out with an established firm."

"What will you do?"

"I have options." He tilted his head back, the fading light darkening his eyes just a notch. "What about you? Does the big city still beckon?"

"I like my apartment. No one else seems to."

He smiled gently. "That's because they've seen this place."

"I have great neighbors in the city. I don't have any neighbors here-"

"Tyler North."

She swallowed. "He's active-duty military. He's not aroundmuch.Itjustsohappensthathe'sherethisweek." Up in her loft, as a matter of fact, she thought, installing pest-chasers. "I had a lot of projects in the works before the Rancourts lured me with easy money and a kind of sexy job, taking pictures of a historic mansion."

"But you don't have that anymore."

"There's a shop on Newbury Street that's after me to do a brochure for them. I did some work for another shop a couple of months ago-haven't done much commercial work, but it could be fun."

He seemed amused, but not in a patronizing way. "Keeping your overhead low preserves your options, so you can pick and choose what jobs you take."

"It hasn't been easy keeping this place here and renting an apartment in the city, but I've managed. Louis- whoever he was-teased me about being a tight-fisted Yankee."

Turner laughed, but his heart obviously wasn't in it, the stress of the past few days taking their toll on him, too. "I wonder if the southern act was real. I wonder if anything we knew about him was real."

"He's dead. There's no question of that."

"No, there isn't, and murdering him-that was a terrible thing, no matter who he was. I imagine the police will sort out whatever history exists between Louis and Manny Carrera. I've been ordered not to get involved.

'Let the police handle it' is the mantra."

"I suppose it makes sense."

"Carine-" Turner shifted, intense but quiet, even self-conscious, making no excess movements. "Please be careful until this situation gets resolved. I told you- something's happening under the radar."

She wondered what he might know that Manny didn't-that she and Ty didn't. "Gary, if there's anything I should know-"

"I'm operating more on instinct and experience than on fact. I'm sorry you found Louis on Wednesday." He paused, taking a breath, and she thought she noticed his hands shaking. "I've enjoyed getting to know you, although I don't claim to know you well. If I can swing it and you plan to stay on there yourself, I'd like to get another job in Boston. I'd appreciate seeing you from time to time. Maybe-" He took another breath, swallowing visibly. "Maybe we could have dinner."

She crossed her arms on her chest, not wanting to hurt his feelings or to encourage him. "Gus is bringing over a lasagna out of the freezer." Her hair felt like ice in the cold breeze, and she smiled, the friend, the woman who liked him but wasn't attracted to him. "We can have dinner right now."

"I meant in Boston, with you." He glanced around, the bare trees clicking in a strong gust of wind, then sighed, calmer, his hands no longer shaking. "I doubt you'll be going back to Boston, at least not for any length of time. You belong here, Carine. But you do know that, don't you?"

"I love it here. I don't know about belonging-I like to think I belong with the people I care about. But I don't know anymore." She dropped her arms, the wind penetrating her lightweight sweater. "It hasn't been an easy year."

"No, I suppose not. Well, I'll see you around. The Rancourts won't give me the boot until they're assured they don't need me to keep them safe. Don't let Mrs. Rancourt's affair with Louis fool you, Carine. She and her husband are two of a kind. Whatever works, I suppose."

"Not me. I value fidelity."

He smiled, a rare warmth coming into his eyes. "And that's a surprise? You're good, Carine, and you expect other people to be good."

"I'm not that good."

He kissed her on the cheek. "Take care of yourself."

"Gary-"

"It's all right."

"I hope things turn out well for you."

He blew her a kiss as he jumped down from the deck. "They will."

When she returned to the kitchen, North was there, chair pushed back, his boots on her small table. She noticed his thick thighs, his flat stomach, the soft color of his eyes as he watched her pull out a chair. "Turner's had a hell of a week, too," he said. "Don't feel bad for him because he took a liking to you."

"I'm not. I just-what just happened isn't a typical experience for me."

"What, guys wanting to take you to dinner? That's because you don't see that many guys. You're always hanging off a cliff somewhere. You might not run fast, babe, but I'd hate to have to chase you up a mountain."

"I haven't hung off a cliff, as you put it, in months. It was good getting out in the woods today. Ty-"

But he caught her by the wrist, throwing her off balance just enough that she landed on his lap, and his arms came around her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should never…Carine, I've loved you for a long time. I love you now. I can't help it, but the thought of another man-"

"Ty, don't."

"I didn't pull out of the wedding because I didn't love you."

"I know. That just makes it worse."

But he didn't let her go, didn't stop. "I hoped you didn't love me as much as I loved you and I'd hurt more than you did, or at least that I'd spare you more pain in the end."

She felt tears coming and turned away so he wouldn't see, then slipped her arms around him and lay her head on his shoulder. "It's easy to love you, Ty. It's the rest that isn't so easy. There's too much going on right now for either of us to think straight." She sat up, and he touched a thumb to a tear that had escaped, but she slid to her feet, then nodded toward the back window and managed a smile. "Gus is here with the lasagna."

He pounded on the back door and walked in, grunting at them knowingly. "Thought I might catch you two up to monkey business."

Carine groaned. "Gus, don't you think we're old enough-"

"Old enough, just not smart enough. Age's got nothing to do with it. People do crazy things in their eighties when it comes to romance. Turns you stupid." He set the foil-covered lasagna pan on the stove. "I'm telling you two right now, I'm not going through again what you did back in February. Get your heads screwed on straight before you drag your family and friends through another drama like that."