“I hope so.”
“You all rose to the occasion and rooted them out.”
They went around to the other side of the van. Bowie had the side door open and was rummaging in a wooden box on the floor. He stood up, watching Poe charge down to the pond with Ranger. “Maybe Ranger will rub off on him. Better than the other way around, I guess. What’s up?”
“Dom said you’d be out here,” Rose said.
He glanced at Nick, then at Rose again. “I haven’t seen Feehan, if that’s what this is about. I’m not getting sucked into this business. I want to get my stuff and be gone.”
Nick watched the two dogs roughhouse with each other, but Rose knew his attention was focused on her and Bowie. She wasn’t even sure why she’d come out there. Maybe Bowie had a point. Maybe she was worried he’d get sucked into whatever was going on. “Actually,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you if you’d like to help with winter fest at the lodge.”
Bowie’s eyebrows went up. “Quick thinking, Rose. All right. What could I do?”
“You could help with sugaring. We have trees to tap and more to do on the shack. There’s an old stone fireplace you could look at for us.”
He slid the van door shut. “Yeah, sure, put me to work.”
“You’re serious?”
“I’m serious. I can do sleigh rides, too.”
Rose smiled. “I thought you’d find a way to be out of town that weekend.”
“That was the old Bowie.” He grinned back at her. “The new Bowie is downright sociable.”
“Does that mean we’ll see you at the dance at the lodge?”
“In a suit with shiny shoes?” He laughed. “Well, you never know.”
“I’ve seen Dominique’s dress. It’s gorgeous. She has a great sense of style.”
Nick headed onto the walk to the stone guesthouse. Poe charged for him. “Poe!” Bowie yelled. “Get your four-legged self over here!”
His dog abandoned Nick and came running. Rose made a hand signal for Ranger to come, too. He responded immediately. Bowie just shook his head in amazement, opened up the van’s front passenger door and got Poe inside.
Bowie sighed and nodded toward Nick. “What’s with you and this guy?”
“Nothing.” As if that explained everything. “I assume you have a key to the guesthouse?”
“Yeah. I’m leaving it for the lawyers after I clear out trash and a few tools and supplies I left behind.”
She followed him onto the walk and mounted the steps to the guesthouse porch. The strong winds had blown snow into the corners. Shades were pulled on the front windows.
Nick had the storm door open and tried the solid main door, which wasn’t locked, either. He glanced back at Bowie. “You didn’t lock up after you left this morning?”
“I never went in,” Bowie said, moving to one side of Nick. “Dom distracted me when she stopped by. I only had a few minutes. I had to get out to the lake. I figured I’d come back this afternoon.”
“What about Dom?” Rose asked. “Did she go in?”
“No. We both were here and gone within fifteen minutes.”
“Wait out here,” Nick said, entering the guesthouse.
He stiffened, stopping abruptly in the entry. Bowie grimaced. “Something’s wrong,” he said.
Rose slipped past him into the entry. Nick grabbed her and pulled her close to him. The guesthouse had been divided into two side-by-side apartments, the door to the one on the right half-open. She could see a sleeping bag unfurled on the hardwood floor. Arranged next to it were packets of freeze-dried camp food, a water bottle and a small camp stove.
Next to it was a metal canister of liquid fuel for the stove.
White gas.
“My stuff’s all in the other apartment this morning,” Bowie said, stepping inside the guesthouse. “I didn’t do any work in here.”
Rose eased back from Nick’s embrace and turned to Bowie. “There was snow overnight,” she said. “Did you see footprints when you and Dom were here this morning?”
“I don’t remember. I was focused on making a quick stop and getting to work.” Bowie pointed at an old, dusty glass kerosene lamp on the floor just inside the apartment. “Some sick son of a bitch set Derek on fire.”
Nick directed his hard gaze at the stonemason. “If you know anything else, now’s the time.”
“Rumors. That’s it.” Bowie rubbed the back of his thick neck. “I’ve heard talk that Derek and Robert have been providing illegal prescription drugs to some of their ski students. Pain pills, mostly.”
Rose bit back her shock. “Bowie, you’re not—”
“No. I’m not involved. I told the police everything I know.”
Nick pulled her even closer, his dark eyes intense. “We need to get them back out here.”
Sixteen
W ind howled down from Cameron Mountain, as if Drew Cameron himself were up there, trying to warn his only daughter—about dangers, Nick wondered, or about him? It was dark by the time they arrived back at the lodge. Small white lights draping the evergreens along the walk twinkled, casting long shadows as he and Rose headed to the main entrance.
“Do you trust Bowie?” Nick asked quietly.
Rose seem startled by his question. “Yes, I trust him. Did you think I didn’t?”
“I hadn’t thought about it one way or the other.”
“Do you trust him?”
“I don’t know him. I have no reason to trust or not trust him.” Nick paused at the door and looked out at the sky, clear and black against the stars and moon. The air didn’t seem as cold as last night. “Bowie and Hannah grew up together in difficult circumstances. Have you always been close to them?”
“Hannah and I have been friends since junior high. She’s not that easy to get to know. Then she was so busy with school, work and raising Devin and Toby. She’s very smart and driven. She and Sean have that in common.”
“And Bowie?”
“He was like another big brother when we were kids. I guess he still is in a way.”
“Then you and he—”
“No, never,” Rose said, not letting Nick finish. She reached past him and pulled open the lodge’s heavy door.
He didn’t take the hint. “Have you left any broken hearts here in Black Falls?”
She pretended not to hear him and went into the warm lobby. A half-dozen guests were gathered in front of the roaring fire, reading books, playing Scrabble, drinking hot cocoa.
Lauren Cameron rushed out from behind the front desk. Nick left Rose to explain their discovery at the Whittaker guesthouse and headed upstairs to his room. Half his things were still at Rose’s house. He had a feeling she wouldn’t want him sleeping there again tonight. Or she would, but wouldn’t admit it, which amounted to the same thing.
Not that he had any intention of letting her stay at her house by herself.
He was restless, not even remotely tired when he entered his room. He hadn’t talked to Sean since he’d called on his way with Grit Taylor to the canyon where Jasper had died. Nick gritted his teeth and dialed his friend’s number.
The heat was clanking and hissing, the room too hot.
As soon as Sean picked up, Nick said, “I’ve been out to the river three times now, and I’m still trying to picture what happened in January. Hannah really flung herself into the snow a split second before the bomb went off in the backseat of her car?”
“That’s what happened,” Sean said, tight.
“What a spitfire. She’s lucky. If the bomb didn’t kill her, the snow, cold, rocks and tree roots could have.”
“Nick,” Sean said, “what’s going on?”
