Charlie noticed everyone and everything. Couldn’t be an easy way to live.
A stunning, fair-haired young woman appeared on the walkway down from Myrtle’s car. She was flanked by Secret Service agents. Charlie pulled his sweatshirt hood up over his cap and sank low in his seat. “That’s Marissa. She teaches history here. I told you, didn’t I?”
Very pretty, Grit had to admit. Even prettier than the pictures of her he’d found on the Internet.
Charlie slipped out of the car and ran, as if he were just a regular kid.
Moose slid into the seat Charlie had vacated. “Wow. She’s a knockout. The FBI agent, now the veep’s daughter. Myrtle’s not bad, either. Not so sorry you lived after all, are you?”
“Don’t speak too soon,” Grit said. “The Secret Service is running Myrtle’s tags right now.”
“Not mine,” Myrtle said. “It’s my mother’s car. And who the hell are you talking to?”
Grit grinned at her. “Your mother’s still alive? She must have been born during the War of 1812.”
“Revolutionary War.” Myrtle sighed at him. “Don’t you have PT exercises to do for your leg?”
“Did them. You going to tell me what’s going on?”
“No. My problem. I’ll deal with it.”
“You and the dead Russian?”
“Go to hell, Grit.”
Charlie’s seat was empty again, and Grit pictured Moose bleeding, screaming at him to let the Special Forces medic cut off his leg. He said, “Been there.”
Thirty-Three
Jo took her mug of coffee and followed Melanie Kendall onto the terrace. The snow-half as much as up on the mountain-spread smooth and untouched down across the meadow and into the trees. The sky was clear now, a heart-stopping shade of blue. The police were still processing the scene on Cameron Mountain. As Elijah had anticipated, a search-and-rescue team had arrived soon after Rigby’s first shots into the cabin. They’d heard them on their way up the mountain.
Jo’s sister had been part of that first team to reach them and had treated Devin and helped transport him down to the old logging road and then to the hospital by ambulance. Beth had hardly spoken, but her expression had said everything. Words weren’t necessary to convey just how close she knew Jo, Elijah and the two teenagers had come to getting killed early that morning.
There was much work to do to re-create Kyle Rigby’s activities since arriving in Black Falls.
And even before then, Jo thought as she looked out at the beautiful view. She didn’t see her hawk and wondered if he knew, by instinct, that it had been a bad day in his mountains. Elijah was in the dining room with A.J. and a couple of local police officers. A.J. hadn’t believed what Rigby had told Melanie Kendall in his call to her.
Thomas was inside by the fire with his daughter.
Melanie shivered as a gust of wind blew across the meadow, whipping her black hair into her face. She wore a putty-colored shearling jacket but was hatless, her nose red, her eyes sunken. “I’m sick,” she said as she stared at the view. “Just sick. That awful man wormed his way into my life. Then I invited him into Thomas’s life. He used us all.”
“He told me you two met in December,” Jo said.
Melanie nodded. “Yes, in Colorado. I’ve been through all the details with the police. He told me he was an experienced, private search-and-rescue expert. That’s why I thought of him when Nora took off after Alex’s death. I didn’t think anything of calling him. I was drawn to his certainty, his clarity, his decisiveness.”
With her free hand, Jo scooped up snow from the top of a wooden table and, ignoring the cold on her bare fingers, formed it into a small ball as she flashed on countless snowball fights she’d had with the Camerons. Drew would often participate. He’d loved the snow.
She tossed her snowball off the end of the terrace and watched it plop into the fresh snow and disappear.
“You met Thomas in Black Falls in April,” Jo said. “Had you been here before?”
Melanie shook her head. “No, never. It was my first visit.” She turned, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets as she faced Jo. “Why?”
Jo didn’t answer her. “Did you know anyone from here?”
“No.” She smiled. “Agent Harper, please. Just tell me what’s on your mind. I can see something’s bothering you.”
“I want to know how you ended up in Black Falls four months after you ran into Kyle Rigby in Colorado. Did you pick it at random? Did you know someone who’d been here?” Jo paused. “Did Rigby suggest Black Falls?”
“Oh, I see where you’re headed.” Melanie frowned and returned her gaze to the sparkling, endless view. “Kyle mentioned Vermont, but I can’t remember if he said anything specifically about Black Falls. He told me he’d hiked here often and loved it.”
“He knew where Drew’s cabin was,” Jo said, watching Melanie.
She seemed surprised. “Really? Are you sure?”
Jo didn’t give her a direct answer. “The police are already checking with local inns and motels to find out if Rigby was in the area in April when Drew died.”
Melanie gasped. “I could throw up. Do you think he followed me here?” She shuddered, tucking her bare hands up into the sleeves of her jacket. “I realize now that he was a horrible, manipulative man. I don’t understand any of this. I just feel so guilty, but I suppose that’s natural. Victims often blame themselves.”
“You still haven’t told me how you picked Black Falls.”
“I was working night and day and needed a break, and I started looking on the Internet. I saw good reviews of Black Falls Lodge. I made a reservation.”
“Had you been in touch with Rigby, or he with you, since December?”
“No. I’d filed his card under people who could be good to know and didn’t think of him again until Nora went camping after Alex’s death. Thomas was so upset. It just made sense to call Rigby.”
“Then he shows up here and ends up nearly killing four people out of the blue? I don’t buy it. I don’t think you do, either.”
“He engineered this whole thing. He obviously lied, manipulated-I don’t know why. I’m not a detective. Maybe he was just a crazy killer who seized the moment.” Melanie was defensive now, even angry. “I’m cold. I’m going back inside.”
Jo didn’t stop her, instead followed her into the dining room-no sign now of the two Cameron brothers and their cop pals-and down the hall to the lobby, where Thomas was in a wingback chair in front of the massive stone fireplace. He had Nora in his lap, holding her as if she were five again.
Obviously at a loss, Thomas barely acknowledged Melanie and Jo as he hugged his traumatized daughter. “I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “Oh, Nora. Sweetheart. We’ll get through this ordeal together. I promise.”
Nora lifted her eyes to Melanie. “What about her?”
“She wants to help.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
Thomas looked pained, almost stricken. “Nora.” There was just the slightest edge to his tone. “I wish I knew what to say.”
Melanie’s mouth thinned, but she smiled cheerfully as she plopped down onto the sofa across from them. “Hey, guys. You’re the smart ones, staying here where it’s warm.”
Nora slid off her father’s lap and moved to another chair, and pulled her knees up under her chin, curling herself into a tight ball. Jo had learned from Lauren that Carolyn Asher Bruni would be arriving in Black Falls soon. Nora had indicated overnight in the cabin just how much she dreaded seeing her mother. Then she’d have to confront the reality of Alex’s death and the days ahead. A funeral, an investigation, her mother’s grief-and her own. Alex Bruni had been a strong force in Nora’s life.
Thomas, ashen now, blinked helplessly at Melanie. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She gave a little shake of the head. “Don’t worry. Please. Nora’s been through an awful, awful time.”