The Last Bride (DiCarlo Brides #6) (25 page)

Her arms came around him and all thoughts ceased as he lost himself in the moment. His thumb had just slid under the bottom of her shirt to caress the silky skin of her waist when the alarm rang on the oven.

When she released him, he kissed her again. “Forget the food. I want…”

She shifted him back away from her a little. “Yeah. So let’s back up and breathe while we still can. I need to pull this out so it doesn’t burn and we need to eat.”

Gage let her go, turned to the fridge and pulled out a couple of Cokes, really not wanting to talk about anything. She was exasperating and sexy and… he turned around and saw her setting the pan of casserole and some rolls on the table beside his grandma’s good china. The big goblets he’d let his mom unwrap and stick in the cupboard two years ago were on the table for the first time. A large bottle of Perrier with condensation on the sides sat between a couple of long, red tapers. He’d been so focused on her from the moment he walked in the door that he hadn’t even noticed. “You went all out.”

“It’s lovely china. You ought to try using it once in a while.” She set a spatula next to the pan of lasagna and picked up the sparkling water. “You have a bottle opener around here, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” He pulled one out of a drawer and passed it over, entranced by her movements, trying to figure out what was running through him. He always thought he didn’t want this, that the quiet little moments between two people, a family or a relationship, weren’t real for most people, but just a facade people put on for company. Everyone except Vince’s family—but they were the exception that proved the rule. Could he have been wrong? Could he really have this with her, and for more than a few weeks or months of dating?

“I didn’t get wine. I didn’t think we needed to be any more confused than we already are,” she said as she pulled off the bottle cap. “And it isn’t exactly a celebration anyway.”

“What is this?” he asked, suddenly desperate to know.

“Dinner.” She didn’t glance his way as she poured the water.

“No, this. Tonight. Dinner at my house. On my good dishes that haven’t been out of the cupboard in, I don’t know, years.”

She set the bottle on the table, then turned to face him. “You’ve been putting everyone else’s needs ahead of your own. You need time to unwind, to relax a little, preferably at home where you are comfortable and don’t have to worry about people stopping to tell you how sorry they are. It’s wonderful to know people care, but it can be a little overwhelming sometimes.”

He stared at her, wondering how she could see him so clearly. “Yeah.”

“I watch people, you know? I watch the way they act around others, the way they cover the pain in their eyes with a smile. I see things they probably don’t want others to know or see. I’ve watched you since the first time we met. When you weren’t looking at me, I watched and noticed. Besides, I know pain and loss as much as the next person.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to feel defensive, like she wasn’t making him nervous, even though she was. “Are you for real?”

Her brows lifted, but she didn’t answer.

“Because I don’t know anyone like you. I’m not sure if I believe that this,” he waved his hands to encompass the dining table and everything on it, “is who you are, or if you’re putting on a show like women sometimes do.”

She walked past him into the kitchen and pulled a pretty bowl that definitely did not belong to him from the fridge. It was full of salad greens which were sprinkled with mushrooms and tomatoes and all kinds of other good things. “If you haven’t seen enough of me to figure out that this is who I am, I guess you’ll have to hang around for a while and see for yourself. In the meantime, dinner is ready.”

Gage reached out and touched her arm. “Hey, I’m sorry I’m just… reeling. You blow my mind, seriously, and I can barely get my feet under me with everything else going on anyway.”

Her shoulders fell a little and she looked apologetic. “I know. I didn’t mean to be testy. You kind of go out of your way to push my buttons, you know?”

He felt bad about that. In trying to be honest with her, he knew he had probably hurt her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. “Thank you for making dinner. It was exactly what I needed tonight. And to have you here.”

“Good. Sit, before it gets cold.” She didn’t treat him any differently than before, but there was a cool edge to her, showing that he’d hurt her, and he didn’t like it, or himself for causing it.

He had no idea what to say or do to make it better, not without possibly making it worse. She was giving him a little time to figure it out. He was going to take it, and hopefully he’d know what he wanted from it soon.

Gage had worked the next day, and the next, needing something tangible to do, even if he was not as effective as usual. After checking in on Natalie again, he decided sitting at his desk was going to drive him crazy, he went out to see what Ross was up to. It took a few minutes to raise him on the radio, and another ten to reach him at the base of one of the ski lifts.

It was a beautiful day with sunlight pouring over everything and the bright green leaves of spring. Just being outside helped to brighten Gage’s mood.

Until he saw the grimace on Ross’s face as he climbed back down from where he’d been inspecting the haul rope.

“What’s up? You don’t look happy.”

Ross shook his head and removed the heavy leather gloves he’d been wearing while he worked. “I’ve checked out ropes on three of the lifts. They all share a similar wear pattern.”

“The assemblies are the same, so that make sense, right?” Gage asked. Ross had been head of engineering at the ski resort for nearly two decades, so he knew far more about the lifts than Gage did.

“It would if the wear had come from the system.” He pulled out his cell phone. “I saw the damage on Moose Ridge when you bought the place. It was normal wear and tear—compounded by lack of maintenance on the system because the previous owner was too cheap to keep things up. This is different.” He scrolled through several shots, pointing to the damage on the metal cable. “This isn’t normal wear. It’s not even neglect wear. And all three of the lifts I’ve looked at have the same damage.”

Gage did not like where this was going. “Are you saying it’s sabotage?”

“I’ve been all over this lift and the other two. Whatever caused that damage isn’t on the system anymore. It has to be sabotage.”

Gage swore long and low, wishing he could wrap his hands around the neck of whoever messed with his stuff. “Any idea at all when it happened or who might have done it?”

Ross shrugged. “The haul ropes looked okay when I inspected them in early March. It must have happened after that. We used them for another six weeks before closing for the season.”

“Great. Just perfect. Call the cops this afternoon, will you? I want you to give them a full report. There’s nothing we can do about it if we don’t know who did it, but maybe we can get the insurance company to pony up some of the replacement costs. In my dreams.”

He grabbed his bike and took it on a trail for an hour after that, needing some time alone before he blew up at someone.

Gage headed home that evening, worn out from the stress of work, and the well-meaning friends and neighbors who had called him all afternoon with condolences. He wished he could just step away for a while and shut the world out.

His phone rang—the caller ID showed a blocked call and he almost didn’t answer it, but he had too many balls in the air to miss a call now. “Hello?”

“Gage, this is Detective Carlson. Could you swing by the station?”

“Yeah. I’m in the car now; I’ll be there in five minutes.” He pulled into a nearby driveway and turned his car around, turning toward to the sheriff’s office.

He walked into the station a little later, his stomach twisting in knots from worry about what the detective had found. It couldn’t be as straight-forward as having made an arrest. Surely he would have just said so if that was it. Gage greeted the curly haired brunette behind the front window. “Hi, the detective asked me to come talk to him.”

“Yes, he said to show you on back.” She gestured to the door. “Come on through.”

Gage heard the door locks disengage as he approached the door to the hall that ran behind the office manager’s desk. She joined him on the other side and gestured to him. “Follow me. I was sorry to hear about your mom. I’m glad your sister is back safely, though.”

“Thanks. It’s a relief having her home.” He felt like he was answering by rote. He was grateful when she paused in front of a door and gestured inside. “Here you are.”

“Thanks.” Gage entered, greeting the detective. “You have some news for me?”

“Yes, take a seat. We’ve been gathering information and researching both cases today. Do you recognize this man?” He slid a blurry picture across the table.

Gage picked it up. It was a shot from a traffic camera with a time stamp of ten minutes after the money drop off. He stared at the figure, wishing the picture was a little better. “No, I don’t think so, but the guy who took the money was covered up.”

“Joel looked at it earlier and said he thought it was the same car, but we haven’t been able to find it. According to the system, the car was reported stolen that morning. We’ve found no trace of him or the money, but we’re still looking.”

Gage leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Any news from the break-in?”

“No. We’ve got some possible DNA evidence, but they’re still running it through the system. We won’t know if it matches anyone for a while. We do have new information about your mother’s autopsy.”

Gage was surprised. “They said it was a heart attack.”

The detective played with a pen on the desk. “Yes, but it wasn’t a natural heart attack. The coroner found the drug epinephrine in her system—far too much to account for what was given to her. It’s frequently used to treat patients suffering from a heart attack, but too much can cause one too.”

“Why would they have prescribed that? She didn’t have any heart problems.”

The detective’s voice was low and calming, though the tone was still serious. “They didn’t. They used some while trying to revive her, but someone else gave her a massive dose before she coded. We pulled video footage at the hospital to see if we can find images of whomever might have given it to her. We found an image of someone, but she has long blond hair falling over most of her face in the shot so she isn’t recognizable.” He paused and gave Gage a moment to absorb that before going on. “I need to know if there is anyone who might have wanted your mother dead. We
were
working on the assumption that she was an innocent bystander who got in the way when they abducted your sister. But we may have been wrong. Maybe she was a target all along.”

Gage stared at the detective, feeling the blood drain from his head. “You can’t be serious.” His mom wasn’t always a joy to be around, but who would want her dead?

“I’m afraid I am. I need you to tell me more about your relationship with her.”

Gage suddenly realized why the detective had him come in. He sat straighter in his chair. “So now I’m a suspect. Even though I was in Juniper Ridge when my mom was drugged?”

“I’d like to know more about where you were when she was attacked at home and when she was drugged.”

Gage looked right back at the detective. “I was with Jonquil Chestnut both times. I was at the dinner theater opening night with her and Jeremy, his fianceé, Delphi, along with Lana and Blake Bahlmann. We met almost straight after I got off work—Jeremy found me there and asked me to join them for the evening.” He played with the keys in his lap and was glad he was in the detective’s office and not an interrogation room. “I spent the day my mom died at the hospital with her. I left around nine-thirty and drove back here. I went to Jonquil’s for a late dinner and was getting ready to say goodnight when the call came. Jonquil and I returned to Denver.”

“You’re spending a lot of time with Miss Chestnut lately.” Detective Carlson’s comment was mild, as if making an observation.

“We have a lot of friends and relatives in common.” Gage responded just as evenly. “We get along well. Is this relevant to my mom?”

“You won’t mind if I talk to her?”

Gage’s eyes narrowed. “Feel free. You know about what happened with my lifts, right? That someone sabotaged them? Could they be related?” He’d filed a report about the damage, but hadn’t expected the cops to find out anything.

“We’re keeping that in mind.”

“Great. Do you need anything else? She’s waiting for me at home.”

“No. I’ll keep you apprised.”

“Thanks.” Gage stood and moved to the door. He had to get outside before he hit something. He knew the police had to cover every possibility, but hadn’t he been through enough already?

Someone killed his mom, though. Intentionally. And sabotaged his lifts. Were the two related? What had they been after? And what did they have to gain?