Wes Harper had a black permanent marker in one hand. “Drew was right,” he said as he wrote the date on the cap of one of the applesauce jars. “I never cut you a single break.”
“Because of Jo.”
“Yeah.” He looked up at Elijah with eyes that were darker than his daughter’s but still bore a resemblance. “I didn’t make up reasons to get in your face, but I was harder on you than I ever was on anyone else, before or since. Maybe you’ll be the father of a teenage girl one day and be able to forgive me.”
Elijah shrugged. “I forgave you a long time ago. You probably saved my life. You probably made it possible for me to ask your daughter to marry me.”
Harper’s hand stopped in midair.
Elijah didn’t falter. Not this time, he thought. Not ever again where his love for Jo was concerned. “I’d like your support.”
Harper set the marker on the table and steadied his cop gaze on Elijah. “It would be an honor to have you as a son-in-law-if Jo’s crazy enough to have you.” Still, he didn’t smile. “If she won’t, Elijah, then that’s it. Never again. Let her go for good this time.”
“She’ll have me.”
“Yeah.” Harper almost smiled. “I know.”
“I realize we haven’t been together that long.”
“Fifteen years, Elijah. Longer. She had her first crush on you when she was six. Hopeless.” But Wes Harper wasn’t a man for a lot of talk, especially about matters of the heart, and he grabbed up his marker again and said, “Those two killers-Rigby and Kendall. There are more where they came from.”
It wasn’t a question, but Elijah nodded. “Yes.”
“Jo?”
“She won’t tell me, but I think she’s working the investigation.”
Her father sighed. “I don’t mind telling you this whole business scares the hell out of me. To have a daughter in the Secret Service…”
Elijah recognized the fear of a father for a child. “Jo’s a chip off the old block, Chief Harper. She doesn’t cut anyone slack, either.”
Harper gave a satisfied smile. “Good.” Then he added, “And it’s Wes, son. Just Wes.”
It was cleaning night at the Three Sisters Café. Jo had scrubbed the stainless steel sink in the kitchen and was about to start on the counters, but then quiet, lovely Dominique pulled a tray of scones out of the oven and that was it. “Time for a break,” Jo said, and she, Beth and Scott grabbed scones, plates, silverware and small pots of butter and jam and took them out to the dining room.
Hannah and even tireless Dominique promised to join them in a few minutes. For the first time in days, their lives weren’t centered on the close call on Cameron Mountain. Even Devin, recovering rapidly from his injuries, had taken Toby to a movie, an act of normalcy that their older sister obviously welcomed.
But as Jo broke off a piece of scone, her cell phone rang. She winced at the intrusion and expected it was Mark Francona, who had sentenced her-his words-to a few more weeks, at least, in Vermont. Francona didn’t care about her getting Charlie Neal by the ear anymore. He was more interested in finding assassins. He had seized on her presence in Black Falls and figured it was meant to be, a product of his intuition and brilliance. “Buy a snow shovel,” he’d told her. “You’re going to be in the frozen north for a while.”
But it wasn’t Francona’s voice she heard on the other end of the connection. “Special Agent Harper?”
Jo sat up straight, recognizing the deep male voice. “Yes, sir.”
“This is Preston Neal. Charlie and Marissa’s dad. I just want to say…” Clearly emotional, the vice president paused for a moment, then gave a little cough and continued. “Thank you, Jo. Thank you for what you did for both of them.”
“Just doing my job, sir.”
“You saved Marissa’s life. And Charlie. I need to spend more time with him. It’s amazing how fast the years pass by. He’s sixteen…”
“He’s a great kid.”
“Thank you. His mother and I think so, too.”
Jo was aware of Scott Thorne glowering at her from across the table, as if he could guess whatever she was up to was about to complicate his life. Beth sat next to him. She glanced at Jo, then distracted her trooper boyfriend by putting a dot of butter on the end of his nose. Scott laughed, probably for the first time since he had trekked up the north side of Cameron Mountain after the season’s first snowstorm. The investigation into Kyle Rigby and Melanie Kendall and their murderous network had only just begun. It would be long, thorough and painstaking.
So far, it looked as if Charlie Neal had been dead-on.
But not about everything.
The vice president took a breath. “Jo?”
“Sir,” she said finally, “your son needs to understand that what happened to his sister was an accident. It had nothing to do with this other business.”
“This network of assassins,” Preston Neal said. “Charlie helped?”
“Yes. He has a sharp eye, but he’s a kid. He should be playing lacrosse and acing calculus tests.”
“The challenge for Charlie is that he can do those things and stick his nose in other people’s business.” The vice president spoke with a father’s mix of love, pride and pure frustration. “But you’re okay, Jo? You’ve done so much for my family. Don’t forget to live your own life.”
She thought of Elijah. She’d heard his truck out on the road in front of her cabin at dawn as he’d headed back from what she’d known had been a long night with his sister and two brothers. Jo was already up stretching for her run. The night before, Grit Taylor had decided to join her, saying he could keep up with a girl Secret Service agent, no sweat. He’d told her to be ready at sunup. Since he was the type to dump her out of bed, Jo had been ready. He’d teased her some more as they’d set off. He had kept up with her, too. When they returned to the cabins, Elijah was out skipping stones into the lake.
“The difference between Cameron and me is this,” Grit had said quietly, unusually serious. “I lived and wished I hadn’t. Elijah never thought he’d live, but he’s glad he did. Because of you.”
Then he’d gone inside, leaving Jo to her cold cabin.
Preston Neal went on, as if he could read her mind, “I understand there’s a certain Special Forces solider…”
“We grew up together.”
“Sergeant Cameron is a hero in my book. So is his friend Ryan Taylor. And so are you, Jo. Please. You all be careful.”
“We will, and thank you, Mr.-” She stopped herself, aware of the people around her. “I appreciate the call.”
After she hung up, Jo avoided the questioning looks of her tablemates and finished her scone as she experienced a jolt of reality. What had she been thinking? Life could never be normal for her again in her hometown. She’d left at eighteen, and she now had a job to do. Even if everyone suspected that she’d been given a role in the investigation, she had no illusions. She didn’t belong in Black Falls.
Then her sister kicked her under the table. “Smile, Jo. Lighten up. You’ll catch the bad guys. The good guys didn’t do so bad this round.”
“If we’d managed to take either one of them alive…”
Scott shook his head. “You know better than to second-guess yourself that way, Jo. Rigby had 120 rounds on him. You and Elijah had no other choice. As for Kendall -” Scott shrugged. “She was playing with a rough crowd.”
Beth leaned forward over the small table. “Jo, if you and Elijah hadn’t acted, Nora wouldn’t have survived.”
Jo understood. Her sister had been the first of the medical personnel on the scene after the explosion and had witnessed what it had done to Melanie Kendall. Investigators had concluded that a simple pipe bomb constructed of smokeless gunpowder, black powder, two thin strands of copper wire and a cell phone had been placed under Melanie’s front seat. Someone had called the cell phone, and the electricity from the call was just enough to ignite the lethal charge.