There was a threat of light snow and high winds above the treeline. They weren't going that far, but Carine had gone back to her cabin and dug out her lighter winter layers for the hike. Thermal shirt, windproof fleece jacket, windproof pants, hat, gloves. Her hat and gloves were still in the day pack. She wore her new hiking socks. No cotton-she'd even banned it from her summer hikes.
Ty had approved of her wilderness medical kit, but he'd raised his eyebrows when she tucked the manual into the pack. "Look at it this way," she told him. "If I fall and hit my head, you won't need the manual. If you fall and hit your head, I'll need the manual."
"Only if I'm unconscious."
"Of course, because if you can talk, you'll just tell me what to do."
"If I'm conscious," he said, leaning toward her in that sexy way he had, "I'll treat myself."
She told him she had treating blisters down pat. She knew CPR and basic first aid. She'd have done her best if Louis Sanborn had still been alive when she found him. But Antonia was the doctor in the family-Carine didn't like blood and broken bones, people in pain. Not that Antonia, or Ty, did, but they had a calling when it came to medicine that she simply didn't have.
Of course, Ty's calling also involved guns, diving, fast-roping and the insanity of HALO-High Altitude Low Opening jumping, where he would depart a plane at very high altitudes, with oxygen, a reserve chute, a medical kit and an M16, the bare necessities to survive the jump and get to a crew downed in hostile conditions.
Not that he thought HALO was insane. Just another tool in his PJ tool bag of skills, he'd say.
Carine respected his skills and abilities, his nonchalance about them, but she wasn't intimidated, perhaps because they seemed so natural to him, integral to who he was.
She'd spent an hour last night in his kitchen answering questions from the two Boston Police Department detectives, who had been sent to take possession of the memory disk, camera and camera bag. It hadn't occurred to her to have an attorney present. After they left, her brother called on Ty's hard line, which meant Ty could listen in on the extension as Nate told her in no uncertain terms to go mountain climbing today. He wouldn't go into detail about anything he'd found out, but Nate wasn't one to overreact. Although he never said so directly, Carine received the strong implication that her brother had talked to his law enforcement sources and had good reason to make sure his friend and his sister stayed out of what was apparently not a simple case of murder.
After she hung up with Nate, Ty tried to call Manny, got his voice mail and almost threw his phone into the fire. He tried Val Carrera, also without success.
Carine had her Nikon with her on the hike and took several pictures, anything that struck her eye. Ty had said little all morning. In action, she thought, was getting to him. She knew he wanted to be in Boston, pulling information out of Manny Carrera, a syllable at a time if he had to.
She slipped the camera into an outer pocket of the day pack, strapped to his back. "Hiking can be a substitute for my run," she said.
"Nope. You hike, then you go back and do your run."
"Says who?"
He grinned over his shoulder at her. "That's something we hear a lot in the military. 'Says who?'"
He was teasing her, a good sign his mood had improved. "Fortunately, I'm not in the military. I'm just a simple photographer who wants to run a mile and a half in ten minutes and thirty seconds or less."
"You can do it. How close are you?"
"Twelve minutes. Well, once, anyway. I'll get there. I told you, it's the swimming that kills me. I always get water up my nose." She zipped up the compartment and patted him on the hip. "Tell you what, Sergeant, if you run with me, I'll do my mile and a half after we get back."
"Think I can't?"
"I think you need to burn off more excess energy than this little hike of ours will accomplish. You're not sleeping, Ty. You were up at dawn again this morning."
"Dawn's not that early in November."
"You're preoccupied, worried about Manny-and Val-"
"Having you down the hall isn't the greatest sleep-inducer, either."
She sighed. "Ty, it's not always about sex."
"It's not?"
"I am trying-"
He winked at her. "I know you are, babe. Don't worry about me. I'm doing just fine." He started down the trail, moving easily over the roots and jutting rocks. "One thing, though. You're not a simple anything, but you're sure as hell not a simple photographer. You're a brilliant photographer."
"You don't have to say that."
"Yes, I do." He held out his arm for her to grab as she jumped off a two-foot rock in the middle of the trail. "You have the talent, the skills, the drive. I look at your pictures-I can't explain it. There's something going on there. I know it's nothing I or most people could do with one of those little throwaway things."
She was taken aback. "I appreciate that. Really. Thank you."
He continued down the trail, not taking any time to enjoy the scenery. "When we get back, I'll try Val again. Then I'm heading down to Boston to see Manny. You can hang out with Gus and Stump. It's the slow season. You two can wax skis. Argue about squash recipes."
"I'd rather go to Boston with you."
"I know you would."
"I could get my car, water my plants-"
He glanced back at her. "You don't have any plants."
She kept up with his killing pace, no more pauses to check out the view or pick up the perfect fallen leaf. The steep pitch of the trail eased into a long, gentle downward slope, the trail widening as it took them over a stream and back out to the parking area. When they reached the meadow, the wind gusted and howled down the mountains from the north, blowing an icy snow in their faces.
But the snow ended abrupty as they crossed into Ty's backyard and didn't even cover the ground. The sun beamed white through a thin cloud. Dark, lumpy clouds shifted over the valley, and the long, looming ridge with its high summits. Carine, more aware of the sky than she'd ever been in the city, tried to remember various cloud formations-stratocumulus, lenticular, cirrostratus. Each was associated with its own particular weather, but she was rusty on which was which.
Ty left the back door open for her, and she didn't linger outside. The wind blew into the kitchen, where the fire was almost out. He set the day pack on the table. When the phone rang, Carine, who was closer, picked it up. She didn't even get a chance to say hello. " Tyler? It's Val Carrera. The police are at my damn door with a search warrant."
"Val, it's Carine. Ty-"
Val didn't seem to hear her. "I'm sorry I didn't call back last night. At first I was too stunned, and then I fell asleep at the computer. I tried this morning but didn't get through-Jesus, Ty, he's got all kinds of garbage in these files. PJ stuff. Football scores. I told you I'd find football scores. At least I didn't find any porn."
"Slow down, okay? Let me get-"
She was talking rapidly, breathless. Ty made a move for the phone, but Carine was afraid they'd miss something important if she tried to transfer it to him with Val so oblivious to who was on the other end.
"He's got your e-mail address here. I'm sending you the file I think we're interested in. Jesus, will they break down the door if I don't answer?" She yelled, away from the phone, "I'm coming! Hang on a sec!" Then she returned, adding in a lower voice, "They'll haul off his hard drive. You know damn well they will."
In spite of her tough language, Val sounded panicked and fragile. Carine held up a hand, stopping Ty from ripping the phone from her. "I'll tell Ty-"
"It looks like Manny suspected Louis Sanborn was using an alias and having an affair with Jodie Rancourt, maybe extorting money from her. Something. I haven't gone through it all. I hope it doesn't get Manny into hotter water with the police."