Cold River - Carla Neggers [115]
“Grit…”
His comment sparked a smile in her, and that was good. When they got downstairs, Myrtle was out front. She’d come on her own. “I talked to a window washer who remembers Drew from April,” she said. “Useless.”
“Sometimes there are no worms under the rocks we turn over,” Grit said philosophically.
Jo was pensive. “I knew Drew had stuff on his mind in the weeks before he died. Elijah. The two of us. But there was more, and we saw the cherry blossoms together and he never told me.”
Grit shrugged. “He didn’t know what he had would get him killed. He’d stepped on a land mine. It just hadn’t gone off yet.”
Jo was dialing Black Falls. “Sean and Elijah can’t be freelancing,” she said. “They need to get the police in there.”
“They armed?”
“Grit. It doesn’t matter. It’s not a war zone.”
He and Myrtle looked at each other, but neither said anything.
Thirty-Two
January 4—Black Falls, Vermont
Bowie’s van was unlocked. Hannah had led Poe by the collar up from the pond, and he looked eager to get into the van. She opened up the side door. “In you go, Poe. I’ll see if I can find your master.”
When she turned around, Lowell Whittaker was there, in a parka, hat, gloves and boots. He must have walked down from the farmhouse on the road, or he’d been in the guesthouse and hadn’t heard her knock.
He smiled at her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Have you seen Bowie?” she asked him. “It’s not like him to leave Poe wandering around by himself.”
Lowell gestured back toward the house. “He’s taking a look at the chimney in the farmhouse. Vivian thinks there might be a leak. He must have left Poe here.”
“We’ll be lucky it if gets above zero today. Are you heading back up there? I can give you a ride—”
“I don’t mind walking. I’m prepared for the cold.” He gestured back toward the guesthouse. “I want to take another look at the color Vivian chose for the kitchen in Nora’s old apartment.”
“If you see Bowie before I do, will you let him know I’m here and collected Poe?”
“Of course. You’re welcome to stop by the house yourself.” Lowell tilted his head back, frowning. “You don’t seem yourself, Hannah. Nothing’s wrong, is there?”
“Just snow in my boots.”
“Bowie makes Vivian nervous.”
“I’m not afraid of him, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“Quite understandable, given your history together. Loyalty is admirable but it can also be a weakness.” Lowell suddenly seemed awkward. “We saw Sean Cameron yesterday. I’m surprised he’s let you out of his sight.”
Hannah felt her cheeks burn despite the cold. “I won’t keep you.”
She noticed Poe had collapsed in the van and gone to sleep and left Lowell standing in the snow as she headed to her car. Every bit of heat had gone out of it. She kept her gloves on as she put the key in the ignition.
She noticed an odd smell and looked over her shoulder into the backseat. Her car blanket was pulled up over something. She hadn’t seen it earlier. Had Dominique or Beth left goodies for her to take to the McBanes?
The smell wasn’t shepherd’s pie or brownies—or any kind of food.
Lowell.
He’d been in the guesthouse when she arrived. He’d let Poe out, or Poe had slipped out on his own.
She hadn’t locked her car. Lowell would have had time while she was tramping through the snow after Poe to set whatever it was on her backseat and toss the blanket over it.
A bomb.
Hannah recognized the smell now. Gunpowder. Black powder.
The lingering odor of Lowell’s sweat.
She reacted instantly, pushing open her door and leaping out onto the snowbank. She landed on her stomach and hurled herself over the bank and down the hill, into the soft snow under the branches of a white pine.
Her car exploded above her, the concussive impact of the blast sucking the air out of her, propelling her farther down the hill. She heard metal ripping apart, smelled the fire—felt it—as she landed hard on her side, striking a boulder that jutted up out of the snow.
Stifling a moan, she rolled back up onto to her feet. She’d lost her gloves in the snow, but grabbed them even