Carla Neggers - Cold Pursuit

“Damn, Jo, you’re a pain. No wonder Charlie Neal arranged to have you shot in the ass. For the record, you scare the hell out of me.”

“Will you stop?”

“No, I’m serious. When you were fifteen…holy hell. You were scary even then. I can see those turquoise eyes of yours flashing at me when you wanted to stop me dead in my tracks. By the time you were eighteen, how was I supposed to resist?”

“You didn’t even try, as I recall. You pursued me like there was no tomorrow.”

“Fun, wasn’t it?”

“Memorable.” She shivered against a sudden gust of wind and looked out at the view through the bare trees. “Eighteen didn’t feel as young then as it does now.” She glanced sideways at him and smiled. “No wonder my father looked for ways to arrest you. I’ve often thought it was just as well your father was the one who discovered us.”

“Were you rebelling, falling for me?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Not even a little.” But her federal-agent discipline kicked in as she started back down the trail. “Maybe Devin decided to forget Nora and go home. He could be taking another trail off the mountain. He still lives with his sister, doesn’t he?”

“A.J. lets him stay at the lodge.”

“You mean Lauren does.”

“That would be another way of putting it, yes.”

“Maybe we should knock on his door.”

Elijah nodded. “Fine. We’ll knock on his door.”

The wind cut through Jo’s jeans as she crossed the open field and the quiet road to the lodge, picturesque under the lavender-streaked graying sky. It was late afternoon, but already getting dark. She was tempted to head for the stone fireplace and warm up, but Elijah had gone ahead of her and didn’t even pause at the lodge entrance. Without so much as a glance back at her, he walked straight down to the shop, located in a small building tucked among evergreens.

Jo caught up with him. “What if I’d tripped in the field and broken a leg?”

He still didn’t look back at her. “I’d know.”

“Ah. Eyes behind your head. Keen situational awareness. The experienced soldier-”

“Nope.” Now he glanced behind him, his eyes almost navy in the fast-fading light. “I just know you’re not one to go quietly.”

They came to the shop. It was closed, but a sign in the window directed customers to the lodge. An arrangement of cornstalks, pumpkins and vibrant yellow, white and rust-colored mums cheered its front door-undoubtedly Lauren’s doing, Jo thought. Pre-Lauren, A.J. had left the spot bare.

Elijah reached into the mums and produced a key.

“The first place I’d look is the mums,” Jo said behind him.

“Tell A.J.”

He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Some of his intensity had abated since she’d intercepted him on the mountain, but he was still a man with a mission. She could just leave him to it, but she knew she wouldn’t. Her gut as well as the facts told her that whatever was going on between Devin Shay and the Cameron brothers was mixed up somehow with Nora Asher’s sudden decision to bolt for the mountains. She might have been planning a camping trip, and her stepfather’s death might have triggered her decision to leave when she did, but Jo remembered Nora’s tearful departure from the café that morning, Devin following helplessly behind her. Thomas hadn’t reached her at that point to tell her about Alex Bruni’s death.

Something was up, and Jo wanted to know what.

But she didn’t fool herself. She wanted to know because of Elijah, too.

She followed him into the tidy one-room shop. It offered a limited but carefully selected range of outdoor equipment and gear, from the brightly colored kayaks that hung from the ceiling to the racks of mountain bikes, snowshoes, cross-country skis and backpacks. Jo squeezed past a display of hats and gloves that reminded her of the deficiencies in her Vermont wardrobe. She hadn’t packed for traipsing after mountain man Elijah. She debated helping herself to a pair of wool socks, but instead she filled a triangular paper cup from the watercooler.

Elijah headed straight to the wooden stairs.

Jo took two gulps of water and followed him up the stairs. She considered saying something about his butt, which looked extremely fine to her, but decided she’d been reckless enough with him for one day.

She stayed behind Elijah as he knocked on a closed door at the top of the stairs. But there was no answer. No surprise, but Jo noticed his hesitation, the tension in his hand as he held it to the door. “Tempted to break in?” she asked calmly.

“I don’t need to. A.J. has the key.”

“Same difference, Elijah. If Devin-”

“Easy, Agent Harper.” He lowered his fist back to his side and turned from the door, face-to-face with her and very close. “You’re getting all excited thinking about slapping me in handcuffs.” He was obviously enjoying himself. “Another time, sweet pea.”

“You used to call me sweet pea at eighteen. I don’t think I liked it then, either.”

“You loved it,” he said with a grin, brushing past her and trotting back down the stairs.

Jo crushed her paper water cup and followed him at a more deliberate pace, her thighs feeling her five-mile run with Beth that morning and her fast trek up and down a decent chunk of Cameron Mountain. Her left side ached from her airsoft bruises-a well-timed reminder of why she was in Vermont in the first place.

Elijah dipped behind the counter and disappeared through an open door into a small back room. Jo tossed her paper cup in a trash can, again thinking about the virtues of a trip to New Zealand. Elijah had fifteen years of military experience that had honed his natural skills as a leader and an independent thinker, but even before he’d joined the army, he’d had a remarkably positive mental attitude. All the Camerons did. They weren’t brooders. She wasn’t afraid of Elijah going off half-cocked, but that didn’t mean he’d do things her way. The past seven months had dealt him a tough hand.

He came out of the back room and set a gray metal box on the counter, then opened it up. “A.J. keeps petty cash in here.” He flipped the box around, allowing Jo to see inside. Index cards, a few dollar bills and change. Then he said, “Three hundred dollars in fives, tens and twenties is unaccounted for.”

“You mean it’s been stolen.”

“Borrowed, stolen-it’s gone. A.J. noticed first thing this morning. Normally he doesn’t check the box every day, especially this time of year when it’s slow, but lately he has been.”

“Because you asked him to keep an eye on Devin. You think he hasn’t told you everything he knows about your father’s death.”

“He hasn’t,” Elijah said. “He skipped work this morning, too. A.J. called me. I checked the café first. Then I headed out to the Whittakers’ place. I didn’t know about Alex Bruni until Vivian Whittaker told me.”

“Did you ask Devin about the missing money when you caught up with him?”

“He said he doesn’t steal.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I believe he’s holding back.” Elijah got still, his eyes half-closed on her. “But so are you.”

Jo let that last comment slide over her and nodded to the box. “The key’s in the lock. No reason to even have a key if you keep it in the lock.”

“I’m sure A.J. will thank you for pointing that out, Jo.”

She stood back from the counter and looked up at a bright red kayak hanging from the ceiling. Why not rent it for tomorrow, go out on the lake before it froze and paddle to her heart’s content? Missing money, two teenagers with problems-why push herself into the middle of whatever was going on with Devin Shay, Nora Asher and the Camerons? Even Alex Bruni’s death in Washington wasn’t her concern.