Cold River - Carla Neggers [9]
Sean eyed the offerings in the glass case. He had flown to Black Falls in November the moment he’d learned about Melanie Kendall and Kyle Rigby and their trail of violence and bloodshed. He’d stayed through Thanksgiving, then returned a few weeks later to spend Christmas with his family. He’d be heading back to California in two days.
Taking Toby to his host family.
“I have a list of repairs for you,” Hannah blurted.
“What kind of repairs?” Sean asked without looking up at her.
“The place needs work—not fun work, either. Stripping wallpaper, scraping paint, caulking windows. Several windows need to be replaced. There are wiring issues in the upstairs hall.”
He glanced at her now with a smile. “Wiring issues?”
She met his gaze. His eyes so reminded her of his father. “I can get Zack Harper to go up and have a look, if you’d like. He doesn’t like a fire hazard.”
“There’s no fire hazard.”
“I didn’t say there was. I said Zack—”
“Anything else?”
She pivoted, her back to him, and filled a mug from the urn on the counter behind her. Sean was an experienced firefighter himself. He’d left Vermont after college and headed west to realize his dream of becoming a smoke jumper, one of the elite firefighters who parachuted into remote wildfires. For the past decade, he’d tackled one raging fire after another. He and another smoke jumper, a Californian Hannah had never met named Nick Martini, had pooled their resources and invested in a run-down Los Angeles building in a great location. They renovated it, leveraged it, bought more buildings, and now were worth a fortune, although they both still fought wildfires.
Hannah turned to him with his coffee. “There’s water in the cellar.”
“There’s been water in that cellar for two hundred years.”
“Not quite two hundred. The house was only built in 1835.”
A muscle in Sean’s jaw worked. She didn’t know if he was amused or irritated—or both. “All right,” he said. “I’ll have a look.”
“I looked. I’m not an expert, but I can recognize water on a cellar floor when I see it.”
His very blue eyes leveled on her. “Sleep at all last night, Hannah?”
She ignored his question as well as the flutter in the pit of her stomach and let her voice soften. “I have the list upstairs. I can fetch it when things quiet down.”
“Ah. Please do.”
He took his coffee and sat across from Elijah, facing Hannah behind the glass case. She could feel the focus as well as the frustration of the men and one woman at the table. In the first frenetic days of the investigation, everyone had hoped answers would come quickly. They hadn’t. They still didn’t know who had hired Kyle and Melanie to kill Drew Cameron and make his death look like an accident and why. How had they known he’d be on the mountain? How had they known where he’d be on the mountain?
What had he known about them and their network of killers?
How was Drew’s murder connected to the hit-and-run murder of Ambassador Bruni seven months later?
How many murders was this network of paid assassins responsible for?
How many killers were still out there, and who were their next targets?
As far as Hannah could see, the law enforcement agencies working on the investigation were as determined and unyielding now as they had been five weeks ago. They’d put together time lines and maps, figured out the movements of perpetrators, victims and possible victims—not just in Black Falls and Washington but throughout the U.S. and even internationally.
Hannah also understood that everyone in town was hoping for a break in the investigation that would take it in a new direction—preferably away from Black Falls.
She busied herself going back and forth to the kitchen for fresh, warm scones and muffins—Beth had indeed talked Dominique into making wild blueberry muffins—and arranging them on the shelves of the glass case.
She noticed Sean stiffen visibly at the table, his attention directed toward the café’s main entrance.
Uneasy, Hannah followed