Cold Pursuit - Carla Neggers [45]
Black Falls wasn’t a hopping place on a cold November night. A popular bar owned by a longtime friend of the Cameron brothers looked busy and lively, and the library, located in a 1920s stone building on the green, was still open. A handful of cars were parked in front of the Three Sisters Café. It was closed for the day, but its lights were on.
Jo pulled in behind her younger brother Zack’s truck. When she entered the café, she was greeted by the clean smell of citrus. Beth was scrubbing a table in the front window as Zack, a firefighter and the cause of numerous heartbreaks in the southern Green Mountains, stood over her, deliberately aggravating her by pointing out what spots she’d missed.
Beth finally thrust her washrag at him. “You want to do this?”
He grinned at her. He was solidly built, his hair darker than either Jo’s or Beth’s, his eyes more green than turquoise. And his smile was notoriously deadly. “For time and a half.”
“A day-old chicken potpie.”
“Sold.”
From the clanging and the voices coming from out back, Jo assumed Dominique and Hannah were working in the kitchen. “I can help,” she said.
Beth shook her head. “We’re almost done.” She reached into her bucket of sudsy water and plucked out another washrag. “We have a regular cleaning service, but we like to turn this place upside down ourselves every now and then. It hasn’t been a great day. We were all looking for something to do.”
“Nora hasn’t been by, has she?” Jo asked.
“No sign of her.” Beth seemed to make an effort to be cheerful and gestured toward the glass case. “There are two brownies left. Why don’t you help yourself.” Then she added, matter-of-fact, “You could bring one to Elijah.”
Not one to turn down chocolate, Jo claimed one of the brownies and sat at a small square table while her brother and sister cleaned. “So,” she said, breaking off a piece of the dark, smooth, gooey brownie. “Tell me about Devin Shay these days. And whatever you know about Nora Asher. While we’re at it, Elijah Cameron.”
Zack wrung out his washrag. “How long have you been back in town, Jo?”
“Today’s my third day.”
“Three days, and already trouble.” He set to work on a table with his usual tireless energy. “Devin needs to get his head screwed back on. Nora’s running from her problems, which just got worse. Elijah is Elijah, just with battle scars and not enough to do.” Her brother paused, and his gaze bored through her. “You might keep that in mind about Elijah.”
Jo pretended not to hear him. “Have you had any problems with Devin?”
“Not me, no. He’s rubbed Scott the wrong way a few times—deliberately.” Zack had never been one to shy away from speaking his mind. “He’ll figure out Nora’s just seeing what it’s like on the other side of the tracks, and he’ll feel even worse about himself. Then who knows what he’ll do.”
“Hurt her?”
“Nah. Not Devin. More like buy a bus ticket to Los Angeles.”
Beth scrubbed hard, and Jo remembered her sister’s discomfort that morning and dived in. “Beth, is money missing from the café?”
She dropped her rag in the bucket. “Hannah manages the café money. You can ask her.”
In other words, Jo thought, yes, money was missing. “Does Scott know?”
“He can ask Hannah, too.” Beth peeled off her rubber gloves. She didn’t look particularly intimidated, but she said, “Jeez, Jo, I can’t believe Charlie Neal had the nerve to pull a prank on you.”
Their brother draped his rag over the side of the bucket. “Better get that second brownie, Jo,” he said.
She turned just as Elijah came in, bringing a gust of cold air with him. He shut the door behind him and greeted Zack and Beth briefly, then said to no one in particular, “I found Nora’s car at the east trailhead. That’s a dry trail—it gets a fair amount of activity even this time of year. It leads to shelters. A good pick.”
“Assuming she didn’t park there to mislead people,” Jo said, breaking off another piece of brownie. “What about Devin?”
“He wasn’t back at the lodge when I left. I didn’t see his truck at any of the trails I checked. No sign