Harry answered on the second ring. “I heard you were in New Zealand,” he said.
“That’s the backup plan. What do you know about Ambassador Bruni?”
“Why?”
He wouldn’t tell her anything if she wasn’t straight with him. “His wife’s ex-husband asked me to check on his stepdaughter.”
“The one in Vermont? Harper. You’re not…”
“I’m in Black Falls. I grew up here. Nora Asher works at a café co-owned by my younger sister.”
“I have frequent-flyer miles you can use for New Zealand. Call me if you need them.”
He disconnected, and Jo slipped her cell phone into her jacket pocket. If Harry knew anything, he’d have told her. She shuddered against a breeze off the lake. She wanted to take a few moments to let her mind sift through the events of the day, but not out here-it was too damn cold. She’d go make her salad and head over to Elijah’s.
She heard a noise behind the more secluded cabins farther up the hill and went still on the narrow footpath. The turkeys flapped their wings and scurried deeper into the woods, away from the cabins, their shuffling making it more difficult for her to identify any other sounds.
Devin? Nora?
Jo crept toward a particularly dilapidated cabin on the far edge of the clearing behind the main cabins along the lake.
A branch snapped in the darkness.
Someone-something-was up there with her.
She waited for a few minutes in the darkness, listening, peering up into the trees for any sign of movement. But animal or human, whatever was out there didn’t make a sound.
Or was gone, she thought, giving up.
Without a flashlight, she didn’t investigate further and walked back down to her cabin. When she opened the rickety door, she knew instantly someone had been in there. None of the cabins had decent locks and hers apparently hadn’t caught when she’d left earlier in the day.
She switched on the dull overhead and scanned the room. Everything appeared to be intact. The lilies Charlie had sent her were still in the middle of the table. Her exercise clothes from her morning run were still on the bed. Her old coffee cup was still in the sink.
But she smelled…something. Not cologne or soap. She couldn’t place it.
Then she recognized what it was. Stirred-up dust. Whoever had been there had gone into places she hadn’t yet.
Bats?
She pulled open the utility closet by the kitchen area.
No bombs.
What was she thinking? She’d probably just interrupted some kids looking for a place to party who panicked and ran when they realized the cabin was already occupied.
Telling herself she was being thorough not paranoid, Jo grabbed a flashlight and went back outside. She squatted by the front steps and angled the beam of light under the cabin, but she didn’t see signs of a hidden incendiary device or anything else that didn’t belong there.
She stood up, breathing hard.
Elijah.
Had whoever been through her cabin gone through his place as well?
Had she heard him in the woods?
It had been a long, strange day, and she supposed she could have heard a stray turkey after all and no one had searched her cabin. But she didn’t think so.
Another breeze gusted up from the lake and, once again, Jo wished she had a Vermont-worthy winter coat-or even a hat and gloves. She drew her hands up into her sleeves and ignored the biting cold as best she could as she headed up the road, the gravel crunching under her fast steps.
She didn’t slow her pace until she reached the top of Elijah’s steep driveway. A solitary light shone in the sliding glass doors on the deck. In the months since she’d inherited her lakefront property, she hadn’t been this close to her neighbor’s house. It looked as sturdy and solid as the man who’d built it.
Smoke curled from the chimney. Jo could smell it in the air. Elijah had been home all of a half hour, and he already had a fire going.
She heard a noise under the deck and pointed her flashlight beam in that direction, illuminating Elijah as he walked out with an armload of cordwood. “What’s up, Jo?”
She lowered her light to his feet. “Did you search my cabin?”
“Why would I do that?”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He moved forward with his wood. “No, Jo, I did not search your cabin.”
She felt the cold now and tried not to shiver. “Someone did. It’s not obvious. The place wasn’t tossed.”
“But you’re a Secret Service agent, and you can tell.”
She didn’t think he was being sarcastic, but it was just a guess. Sometimes it was hard to tell with him. “Yes,” she said seriously. “What about your place?”
He nodded toward the deck stairs. “Let’s go up and have a look.”
“You’d have noticed, wouldn’t you?”
“Not necessarily. I wasn’t thinking about break-ins when I got back here.”
“What were you thinking about?”
His eyes settled on her. “You don’t want to know.”
“Did you hear anything in the woods?”
“Turkeys, but I only just got out here.” He nodded toward the stairs up to the deck. “Let’s go inside.”
“I haven’t fixed the salad-”
“Forget the salad.”
He carried his armload of wood up the stairs and led her through a slider into a warm, cozy room than ran the length of the deck. The furnishings were in warm woods and earthy colors, and although he’d only been in town a few weeks and hadn’t yet finished the house, it looked lived-in, as if he were at home now and meant to stay. On the back wall was a stone chimney with a Vermont Castings woodstove. Wooden spiral stairs wound up to an open-rail balcony with two doors, presumably to bedrooms.
Elijah dropped the wood into a rustic box he’d obviously constructed himself. As much as he might belong there, Jo had sensed that his presence in Black Falls wasn’t permanent. He’d seemed as rootless as she was, if in a different way. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
The sliders and large windows overlooked the lake, dark now with nightfall.
Jo noticed how quiet it was with the doors and windows shut-no wind, no lapping of the lake below, no night sounds. Just the popping and hissing of the fire. “Do you like being back here?” she asked abruptly.
“Sure. I don’t like the way I got back.” He turned from the wood box. “Anything suggest an intruder to you?”
She shook her head. “No. Not to me.”
He advanced a few steps toward her. “You’re an experienced Secret Service special agent who rumor has it can shoot the eyes out of a crow, and here I am worrying about you being alone in your cabin.”
“You’re feeling protective of me, are you?” She couldn’t resist a smile. “That has to be a first.”
“Not really.”
He was right in front of her now. There was nothing casual about him, but nothing confrontational, either. The stiffness and tight control of earlier at the café had abated. But Jo had no illusions as his so-blue eyes settled on her with a frankness she found erotic, a little unnerving and totally irresistible. This was a dangerous man at a critical turning point in his life, and having her there, with him on the lake, wasn’t necessarily good for either one of them. She had a career to save, but Elijah had lost his father and very nearly lost his own life in combat. And he’d seen friends die.
Jo motioned toward the pleasant room. “It’s a nice place,” she said, then attempted a smile. “Homey.”
He touched her hair and smiled back at her. “Like you care about homey. You’re restless, Jo. Always have been.”
“I keep coming back to Black Falls.”
“So you do.”