Cold River - Carla Neggers [96]
“You’re not a firefighter or an arson investigator.”
“I understand that.” She looked up at the bleak sky, her mind clearly back on that June day. “I’ve been such a wreck.”
“What about you and Sean’s partner? Nick Martini. Devin’s told me about him.” Hannah smiled. “He’s another sexy smoke jumper, as well as a wealthy businessman.”
Rose breathed out and fastened her Cameron blue eyes on Hannah. “Hannah…Nick and me…just forget whatever you’re thinking, okay?”
Hannah sighed. “Your brothers will kill him dead if he took advantage of you when you were at your most vulnerable. Honestly, Rose. From what I can gather from Devin—the man’s a rake.”
Her friend laughed outright. “Very Jane Austen of you. Rake. Yes, Nick Martini is a total rake.” Rose squatted down and opened up her arms as her wet, slobbering, eager dog returned with his stick and welcomed her affection. She was a private person, solitary despite being the youngest of four. “Now I’ve said too much.”
“Rose, if you want to talk—”
“Thanks, Hannah. You’re a good friend.” She stood up. “We all have too much tragedy on our mind.”
“It’s a new year,” Hannah said. “You haven’t been to the café in a few days. Dominique’s making her fire-breathing chili today. Why don’t you stop by for a bite?”
“Thanks. I’ll see if I can manage it,” Rose said without much enthusiasm. Her panting golden retriever flopped onto her feet. “Will Bowie be there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you remember the time you and I decided to try diving at the swimming hole down on the river? We were what, sixteen? We got caught in high water, and Bowie pulled us out. He was so strong—he got us both at once and hauled us out of there.”
Hannah smiled at the memory. “We yelled at him and said we weren’t in any danger, and he said we were like sisters and he was just protecting us.”
“Underneath the rock dust and muscles is a hopeless romantic. Hannah, it’s not your fault he went to jail.”
Something in Rose’s tone made Hannah’s breath catch. “You weren’t in town then. What have you heard? Rose—”
“I have nothing against Bowie. I hired him to fix my steps.” Rose motioned to the snow-covered stone steps that led up the hillside to her front door, which she seldom used in winter. In summer, the steps would be flanked with flowers. “It was an easy job, but I couldn’t do it by myself.”
“When was this?” Hannah asked, surprised.
“November. I didn’t want to ask A.J. or Elijah for help. A.J. was so busy with the lodge, and Elijah was just back home from the army. I saw for myself what he’d been through when I visited him in Germany in April.” Another wind gust blew down off the mountain and whipped raindrops off her jacket into her face. She hardly seemed to notice. “I saw Bowie’s van at the cemetery one day and stopped. He was checking on the culvert to order materials for that job. I asked him then, on the spur of the moment, and he agreed. He was only here a few days. I wasn’t even around.”
“When in November was this, Rose?”
She was pale now, scratching Ranger’s head without looking at Hannah. “He was working here the week those killers went after Nora Asher and your brother.”
“Who else knows? The police? Jo? Your brothers—do they know?”
“I haven’t said anything to anyone. I don’t see what difference it makes. I don’t want to cause unnecessary trouble for Bowie any more than you do.”
“Did he have a key to your house?” Hannah asked.
“I left one. To my knowledge he never used it.”
“You have a phone here. What about cell-phone service?”
Rose nodded as if Hannah had asked a question. “With anyone else,” she said, “we wouldn’t think twice.”
“Bowie isn’t anyone else.”
Neither spoke for a moment, only Ranger’s panting and the steady drizzle breaking the silence. On a clear day, Hannah realized,