Cold Pursuit - Carla Neggers [19]
“Maybe he has legitimate unanswered questions.”
“And maybe his questions have no answers. Uh-oh. Speak of the devil.” Beth pushed back her chair and made a face. “He’s all yours, Jo.”
Jo glanced back toward the street and saw that, in fact, Elijah had arrived at the café. She grinned at her sister. “Chicken.”
“You bet. He scares me when he comes in here and orders a scone. Can you imagine, Elijah Cameron sitting down with a scone and butter?”
“You’re bad, Beth. Honestly.”
Her sister laughed. “Scott would agree with you. I’ll have to tell him you two have common ground after all.” She got to her feet and gathered up her plate and mug. “My hamstrings are on fire. I need at least a day’s rest before we go for another run.”
“It felt good, running up here instead of in the city—”
“And running with your out-of-shape sister instead of all your buff Secret Service friends.”
“You’re not that out of shape, Beth.”
“Ha,” she said as she dumped her plate and mug in a dishpan on a side table and scooted out, passing Elijah on his way in. No Red Sox cap today—the sun caught the ends of his close-cropped tawny hair, reminding Jo, somehow, of him at nineteen. But she knew it would be a mistake to fall back on old habits.
Plus, he was obviously in some kind of cantankerous, rotten Cameron mood.
He didn’t say a word to Beth, then ignored Jo, or maybe didn’t notice her, and headed straight for the glass case, where Hannah Shay was unloading cookies from a big metal sheet onto an evergreen plate. She had on a frumpy skirt, and her fair hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail that emphasized the delicate bone structure of her face.
She gave Elijah a cool look. “What can I get you? The cookies are still warm. I have peanut butter, chocolate chip—”
“Is Devin here?”
More coolness. “No, Elijah, he’s not.”
“Where is he?”
“I’m sorry.” Hannah tucked the empty tray under one arm. “I don’t have time to talk. I have to study.”
She set the tray on the spotless counter, peeled off her apron and walked calmly out from behind the case. Whatever was going on between her and Elijah, Hannah, Jo thought, had herself under control. She always did. She was in her late twenties but seemed older, perhaps because of the hard life she’d led. She’d grown up in an isolated hollow just outside Black Falls, a different Vermont from the one Jo had known. After her mother died, Hannah took over as guardian to her two younger brothers, Devin and Toby, who were just ten and eleven at the time. Their father had abandoned the family over and over before finally running his car into a tree and killing himself not long after Toby was born. In addition to running the café with Beth and Dominique, Hannah was putting herself through law school. Most people in town had learned not to underestimate her.
“It’s good to see you, Jo,” Hannah said graciously. “Dominique makes amazing scones, doesn’t she?”
“She does. Nice to see you, too, Hannah.”
Hannah didn’t make a gibe about Charlie Neal and the video, but that wasn’t her style. Instead of going out the front entrance, she left through a side door that opened into the house’s center hall and headed up the curving stairs to the apartment she shared with her brothers.
Elijah made a move toward the door. He had on his canvas jacket, jeans and scarred hiking boots, and he looked as if he wanted to punch a fist through the nearest wall. Not that he was angry at Hannah. Something else, Jo thought.
She cupped her coffee mug in both hands. “Hannah doesn’t want to talk to you.”
He walked over to her table and helped himself to a chunk of her scone. The intensity of a moment ago seemed to have vanished. “I figured you for raw eggs and wheat germ in a blender.”
“Everything in moderation,” Jo said. “Beth and I ran this morning.”
“Did you? I just saw you stretching in your undies down by the lake.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. Those were my yoga clothes.”
He winked at her. “Looked like undies to me.”
The man was hunting trouble. “Don’t you have a job?”
“I stay busy. I saw you on your roof yesterday.