“I didn’t know you could quilt.”
“I imagine there are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” she said. “Winter fest will run all weekend. It’s as much for the town as for the guests. Vice President Neal and his family want to come if they can. They were all here two weeks ago.”
“So I heard,” Nick said.
“They were quite taken with the old sugar shack. They cross-country skied out to it. It’s just in the woods across the meadow. It was built around 1900, but it’s in great shape. Lauren and I are trying to get it up and running and trees tapped in time for this year’s sugaring season.”
“Starts soon, doesn’t it?”
“As soon as the temperature warms up a bit. We need freezing nights and above-freezing days.”
Nick smiled at the prospect of maple sugaring. “Sounds romantic.”
She smiled back at him. “It’s fun work. I’ve been trying to do more here at the lodge, but Lauren’s in charge of winter fest. I just do what she says.”
“The Secret Service doesn’t object to the Neals coming?”
“Not enough to stop them, at least not right now.”
“Do you believe that all of Lowell Whittaker’s contract killers have been accounted for?”
Rose’s smile vanished, her eyes distant, cool again. “You get talking about sleigh rides and such, then spring that on me. You’re testing my reaction. Nice, Nick.”
He shrugged. “What’s the answer?”
“The answer is no. No, I don’t believe all of Lowell’s killers are either dead or in custody. I don’t think anyone does. It would be reckless to assume otherwise.”
A.J. joined them, giving no indication he noticed the tension between his sister and guest. “I know better than to ask how you are—you’ll just say you’re fine, no matter what.” He pulled out a chair and sat down, but clearly had no intention of lingering. “You can’t stay up in that house tonight by yourself. Listen to me, Rose. You can’t.”
“I feel safe there.”
“I’ll come up—”
“You can’t leave your family, A.J. You know I won’t let you do that.”
“We’ll all come. The kids would love it.”
Rose shook her head. “I don’t feel unsafe, A.J. If Derek was murdered, his killer had every opportunity to attack me, too.”
“Maybe Nick here scared off the killer,” her brother said.
Nick picked up his whiskey but didn’t drink any. “I don’t think anyone was lurking in the woods when I arrived, but it’s possible.”
A.J. glanced at him but made no comment.
Rose sighed and took a healthy swallow of her martini. “The police will have checked for prints in the snow, tire tracks. If they believe Derek’s death wasn’t an accident or suicide and I’m in danger, they’ll tell me. I don’t take undue risks, but I’m not one to panic, either. But tonight,” she added, “for your sake, A.J., Ranger and I will stay here at the lodge.” She gave her eldest brother a faint smile. “I anticipated this and brought my things.”
“You always were the smart one,” A.J. said with a grin.
Rose waited for him to leave before she picked up her drink glass. “This means I can have another martini, this time with pomegranate juice.” She gave Nick an enigmatic smile. “I like my martinis a little on the sweet side.”
The radiator in Nick’s room clanked as if just to remind him he was out of his element, on Cameron turf. He didn’t have a radiator at home in Beverly Hills.
After dinner, Rose had ventured off to another part of the lodge with Ranger, his dog dishes and a backpack. Nick kicked off his shoes and called Sean. “Where are you?”
“Out by the pool. It’s sunny and warm today.”
“Go to hell.”
“Okay,” Sean said. “I’m in my car, stuck in traffic, looking at smog on the horizon.”
Nick grinned. “That’s better. I had dinner with your sister. She’s had to deal with dead bodies in her work. That part she can handle, but this time she knew the victim.”
“Training Ranger is repetitive and requires a lot of discipline. She loves it, but the Whittaker place was probably a welcome change of scenery. She’s always felt safe in Black Falls.”
“Feeling safe’s an attitude. Anything can happen anytime, anywhere. How well did you know this guy Derek?”
“Not well.”
Curt answer. Nick looked out the window with the full moon casting shadows on the snow. He could make out groomed cross-country ski tracks. Black Falls Lodge seemed less dark and isolated tonight. Maybe he was seeing the nuances Lauren had implied he would if he looked. Or maybe he was experiencing the effects of jet lag, whiskey and Rose Cameron.
“The bar fight last March,” he said. “What kinds of insults did Cutshaw and his friends hurl at Hannah?”
“The personal kind,” Sean said. “Her mother waited tables at O’Rourke’s before her death seven years ago, and Hannah hasn’t had it easy, working herself through college, raising her two younger brothers on her own.”
“So the insults were all about her?”
“As far as I know.”
That left a fair amount of wiggle room, Nick thought.
Sean added, “Hannah hasn’t seen Derek since he, Robert Feehan and Brett Griffin stopped by the café last March to apologize for their behavior.”
“Telling me to back off, Sean?”
His friend sighed heavily, less defensive. “Derek said some fairly nasty things before Bowie O’Rourke intervened and prevented him from saying more.”
“He wasn’t just talking about Hannah, was he?”
Sean clearly didn’t want to answer, but he said, “That’s my guess.”
Nick contemplated the moonlit landscape. “Hannah knows,” he said finally, certain he was right.
“She and Rose have been friends for a long time. Hannah was in Black Falls all last year after Pop’s death while I was out here in California.” Sean let it go at that. “She’s here now. I’ll talk to her.”
“If anything went on between Derek Cutshaw and Rose, this Bowie character knows, too.”
“Bowie was willing to get into a fight and end up on probation to shut Derek up.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nick said.
The comment went right over Sean’s head. “Bowie wasn’t just defending Hannah’s honor, or Rose’s if you’re right. He has a hot temper. He likes a good fight.”
“Used to be a bar was the perfect place for a good fight.”
“Now you sound like my father,” Sean said, almost amused.
“What about the two guys with Cutshaw that night?”
“Robert Feehan said a few things. Brett Griffin was mostly quiet. They’re not local guys. I didn’t have anything to do with them after the fight. I doubt A.J. did, either. Elijah was on leave. He headed back the next day.”
“Your father?”
“He died a few weeks later. We never talked about the insults. You can ask A.J. He might know.”
“You ask him.”
“You managed to piss him off already?”
“Scared to,” Nick said with a short laugh. He stepped back from the window, feeling his fatigue for the first time since he’d looked at the clock at four-thirty that morning. “Feehan and Cutshaw rented a house for the ski season up by Killington. Griffin’s in town—right up the road.”
“You’ve been doing your homework.”
Nick figured there was no point beating around the bush. “You and your brothers are in close touch. Maybe think about including Rose, too. Even with you three, she still seems isolated.”
“Her choice,” Sean said.
“Doesn’t matter. Sean, a fire killed this guy today.”
“Lowell Whittaker could have turned a kerosene lamp into one of his homemade bombs.”
“And investigators missed it?”
“They might not have thought twice about seeing an old lamp in a shed.”