Cold Pursuit - Carla Neggers [9]
Nora set to work on the wood. “Come on, Devin,” she said. “Let’s get this done.”
Devin hung back, watching her as if he couldn’t imagine what was so great about stacking wood. He had been in the back of a cruiser a few times, particularly since graduating—barely—in June. Elijah had gotten into plenty of scrapes at that age. Jo’s father, the local police chief, hadn’t cut him any slack, and not just because of Jo, or because Elijah was a Cameron, or because he deserved it. “I’m trying to save you from yourself, son,” Chief Harper would say as he’d slapped on the handcuffs.
Wes Harper was retired now. The new chief didn’t have the same connections to the town he served. If Devin stepped too far out of line, he’d be up on charges. His weakness seemed to be standing up to bullies, which Elijah could appreciate—but he was also convinced that Devin hadn’t told everything he knew about what had happened on the mountain that spring.
“Devin,” Nora said, impatient. “Come on.”
Finally he sighed, glowered at Elijah and got to work.
Devin stacked the logs quickly and ably, automatically crisscrossing them to keep them from toppling over, but Nora had to think, pause, figure out just how to arrange the logs in her arms, how many she could manage at a time, how to unload them without dropping one on her foot. She was enthusiastic, Elijah saw, but inexperienced. She’d been like that in an all-day winter hiking class A.J. had talked him into teaching at the lodge a week ago—eager, naive and yet also a little snotty.
Elijah lost patience after fifteen minutes. “Go on. I’ll finish.”
They didn’t argue with him. He fetched a flashlight off his deck steps and handed it to Devin for the hike back to the lodge. “I can drive you up there if you want.”
“We prefer to walk,” Nora said before Devin could answer. She brushed bits of bark and sawdust off the sleeves of her expensive jacket. “I love the Vermont night sky. The stars are so bright.”
Devin shrugged. “I never noticed.” He nodded toward Jo’s cabin through the bare trees. “Is some new Secret Service agent here?”
Elijah kept his expression neutral. “Jo Harper.”
Nora looked startled, and Devin grinned, his first show of humor since arriving. “Did she get fired?”
“The Secret Service equivalent of being sent to her room.”
“Beth says Jo’s such a good shot now, she can take the eyes out of a crow.”
“Good to know.”
“What about you, Elijah? Are you that good a shot?”
He didn’t answer. Devin was being a jerk again.
“A lot of people in town think you’re still special ops.”
“People can think what they want to think.”
Nora seemed to go a little pale. “I hate war,” she said. “Sorry. I just do.”
Elijah picked up several good-size pieces of dried bark that had come off some of the logs and would work well as kindling. “Understood.”
She blushed. “I didn’t mean—I just…” She dropped whatever she meant to say and turned to Devin. “I’m ready if you are.”
Elijah paid them in cash, and as they returned to the hillside trail, Devin flipped on the flashlight, directing the beam of light at the ground. “See you, Elijah. We’ll get here on time if you ever have any more work for us.”
After they left, Elijah walked down to the lake in the dark, the ground familiar to him, the clean, cold air welcome after breathing in wood particles. He heard an owl in the woods off to his left, and to his right, he saw a bat against the starlit sky, beelining for Jo’s cabin. He couldn’t resist a smile. Whether the bat went into the cabin or not, he couldn’t tell.
So many nights in faraway places, he had imagined himself as he was now, on the edge of the lake on a biting fall