Cold River - Carla Neggers [91]
“Or hurt someone,” Sean said.
“That, too.” Her younger brother scooped up debris with his net. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come out here now. I could have waited.”
“For what?” Nick asked.
“Hannah’s got too much on her mind right now,” Devin said. “That accident in the cemetery threw her.”
“Being in a cemetery at all would throw me,” Nick said.
“So did going up to see the cabin where I was almost killed. Elijah, Jo and Nora, too.” Devin’s voice was steady, low, as he eased the net back into the water. “All of us.”
Nick was silent now. He had voiced his suspicions about the death of Sean’s father early on, refusing to believe that a seventy-seven-year-old man who’d been hiking on Cameron Mountain his entire life had become lost and disoriented in a snowstorm, ultimately dying of hypothermia. Nick had been blunt: either Drew Cameron had decided to check out in a spot he loved or foul play was involved.
“Now Hannah’s talking about flying out here to California sooner rather than later.” Devin angled a look back at the two men. “My sister spending that kind of money? Notnormal. She’s not herself, Sean. You know how tight she is with a buck. You should hear Beth and Dominique going on about how the café wouldn’t be as successful as it is without Hannah’s money sense.”
“Maybe her money sense is why she can afford to fly out here,” Sean said.
“If she comes out here and goes shopping on Rodeo Drive,” Devin said, “then I’m going to start thinking she and Bowie O’Rourke are robbing banks together.”
Nick propped up one knee, making himself at home on his lounge chair. He had a condo in Beverly Hills, but he’d spent a lot of time on submarines. He was content anywhere. “Sounds as if you’re nervous because you left your sister alone in Vermont with this guy Bowie.” He glanced up at Sean. “Is Hannah pretty, or does she look like Devin here?”
Devin managed a grin, Nick’s humor penetrating his worry. “Sean? What do you think? Is Hannah pretty?”
“She seems more vulnerable than she is,” Sean said, figuring that he needed to say something; if he took the Fifth, he was doomed altogether. Devin and Nick would know for sure he was falling for her and fighting it.
“She’s got no clothes sense,” Devin said. “Dominique could go into Hannah’s closet and come out looking great, and Hannah—you know what I mean, Sean. She ends up looking frumpy.”
Now Sean did take the Fifth. “I’m not going there, Devin.”
Nick drank some of his beer. “You and your brother shouldn’t have to worry about your sister. She wouldn’t want that.”
“She worries about us. She’s never had a life. Toby says so, too. She sacrificed herself for us. She’d argue with us if she heard us saying that, but Sean knows I’m right.”
Sean let his gaze drift to the red bougainvillea spilling over the wall behind his pool and the bright Southern California late-afternoon sunshine. He understood why Devin was going on about his sister. It wasn’t just idle worry, and he was very far from home. Yet this was his home, a buff-colored, multilevel stucco house in Beverly Hills with a pool, expensive landscaping and a three-car garage. He didn’t know why he owned three cars, but he did.
Well. Three vehicles. One was an old pickup truck he used as a smoke jumper and took up into the mountains to camp, hike, bike.
Devin had been asking him and Nick questions—mature, serious questions—about smoke jumping since his arrival in Southern California. The long route to becoming a smoke jumper didn’t seem to dampen his interest.
Sean pictured going off with Hannah into the California mountains and shook off his own worries about her. A kiss among the cobwebs and a million questions unanswered aside, his life—his work—was out here in California.
He looked at Devin. “Sure you don’t want to borrow a suit and head over to the Beverly Hilton with me?”
“Thanks, but I’ll stay here. Anything you need me to do?”
Sean shook his head. “Finish up with the pool and relax.”
“Would you mind if I used your weight room?” Devin asked tentatively.
“Help yourself.”
“Thanks.”
“I have to go,