Cold Pursuit - Carla Neggers [20]
“Rot. I don’t want leaks.”
“If a bat gets in, you can scream. I’ll come rescue you.”
She bit off a sigh and set down her mug. “I can’t believe I almost eloped with you.”
“Sure you can.” The intensity was back, not quite contained behind his winks and teasing. “What’s the matter, Jo, don’t you have a sexy bad boy waiting for you back in Washington?”
“A straitlaced FBI agent. He follows the rules. We just started seeing each other.”
“Bet he loves your video.”
She didn’t respond and wished she hadn’t let Elijah goad her down this road. He’d always known what buttons to push with her—physically, emotionally.
There was a straitlaced FBI agent. But they weren’t going anywhere together, and they both knew it.
Elijah narrowed his deep blue eyes on her. “Ah.” He looked amused now. “You don’t know what he thinks of your video. He doesn’t return your calls, does he?”
“I haven’t called him.”
“Want me to—”
“Do nothing, Elijah. I want you to do nothing.”
“If I were in your shoes,” he said, “I’d make up a straitlaced FBI agent just in case having an old flame next door became a distraction. Isn’t that the big thing with the Secret Service—prevention?”
“We do pretty well with snipers, too.”
It wasn’t something she should have said, but it had no effect whatsoever on Elijah. He grinned at her; it wasn’t a pleasant grin. “See you, Agent Harper. Do more yoga. Go back up on the roof. I like watching the wild turkeys, but you’re prettier, even armed.”
She resisted shooting him as he headed out. Once the door shut behind him, she counted to three, breathed, then set her mug and plate in the dishpan. She didn’t know whether to blame her run, boredom or what for letting herself get into a sexually charged verbal sparring match with an out-of-work ex-soldier or whatever Elijah was these days.
Ex-lover. He would always be that to her.
She pushed a flood of memories aside and quickly ducked into the center hall. She didn’t hear anything from upstairs and resisted going up and knocking on Hannah’s door. Only pure nosiness made her want to find out what was going on between Hannah and Elijah.
Instead, she zipped up her fleece jacket and stepped outside. The village of Black Falls was located in a narrow river valley in the heart of the Green Mountains that ran up the middle of Vermont. Its attractive main street was lined with renovated old houses—clapboard, brick, stone—that were often the subject of Vermont postcards. Most had been converted into shops and businesses.
Across the street, the midday sun peeked through the naked trees on the sliver of a town green and sparkled on brightly colored fallen leaves. Not a bad place to be, Jo thought, even with Elijah in town. She felt some of the tension of being around him ease. She enjoyed the chance to spend time with her family. They’d all had spaghetti up at her parents’ place last night.
But she still had an afternoon to kill and wasn’t used to being at a loose end.
As she reached her car, her cell phone rang. Service was spotty in the nooks and crannies of south-central Vermont, but she had a decent signal.
“Jo…thank God.”
She recognized Thomas Asher’s strangled voice. “Thomas? What’s—”
“There’s been an accident.” He gulped in a breath and rushed forward, his words coming fast. “I don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t an accident. The police…I can’t think…I…”
“Whoa, Thomas, slow down. Start from the beginning. Who’s hurt?”
“Alex. Alex Bruni. Jo—he’s dead. I can’t believe it. He was hit by a car outside a hotel across from his office. He…The police say he was killed instantly. It was a hit-and-run. The driver took off.”
“Does Nora know?”
“Yes. I called and told her.” He sounded slightly calmer now that he had delivered the news. “I don’t know how much she heard or didn’t hear—we didn’t have a good connection. Jo, could I ask you to check on her? Would you mind? Nora doesn’t know many people up there. I’d feel better if you could—” His voice cracked. “I’m in shock. Alex and I have been…we were friends for more than twenty years.”
“Thomas, do you have any reason