The Cabin (22 page)

pressed Yankee in you,” he said, kissing her then, for no

reason, which he used to do all the time. He wanted to

let the kiss last, deepen it, but he took a step back from

her and looked out at the quiet lake. The mountains

were lost in the clouds now, as if they weren’t there.

“Susanna, we can’t go on like this forever.”

“I know.” Her voice choked a bit, telling him she was

still recovering from their kiss. “The status quo isn’t

easy on either of us.”

“Although when you only have sex every few

months, it gets damn hot.” He cut a glance at her.

“Blushing again, Mrs. Galway?”

“It’s not like it’s once every few months, not if you

count the number of times in each—well, never mind.”

He laughed. “You and that calculator mind.” He

moved back in close to her, tucking a finger inside her

headband and adjusting it over her ear. He could feel the

heat of her skin, the softness of her hair. “You don’t have

a boyfriend?”

“What?” Her face lost its color instantly, becoming

almost ashen. “Jack, no—absolutely not. Never. That

wouldn’t be the status quo. We’re still married. I

wouldn’t—” She took a small breath. “Do you? Have

someone else, I mean?”

182

Carla Neggers

“No.”

He ran his fingers along the edge of her jaw and

across her lips. “If it weren’t so damn cold, Susanna, I’d

make love to you right here, right now. We could camp

out here all the night, leave the cabin to Iris and the

girls.” But he let his hand drop, and he put his glove back

on, because he could see the way her eyes darkened and

widened, how she’d stiffened and set her jaw. He knew

what was coming next. He’d been waiting months for it.

“Jack—” She took in another shallow breath, her eyes

fixed on him. “I should tell you about Beau McGarrity.”

He straightened. “Yes, you should.”

She shot back a step, startled. “Goddamn it. You

know?”

He realized there was no humor in him now. None.

He felt his gaze harden on her, this generous, stubborn

woman he’d loved for half his life. “That’s what you for-

got, Susanna. I always know.”

“
Damn
it.”

She kicked snow at him and flew around, skidding

back down the steep incline, catching the limb of a fir

tree, which dumped snow on her. She swore, sinking

halfway to her knees in snow, then kicking her way out

of it down to the trail she and the girls had made earlier

with their snowshoes.

She was furious. Jack didn’t care. She should have

said something a year ago.

He should have, too.

She spun around at him, snow on her hair, her shoul-

ders. “You don’t scare me, Lieutenant Galway.” She

ripped off her snow-covered headband, the snow com-

The Cabin

183

ing down now in fat flakes that filled the sky. “I’m not

one of your damn suspects. I’m your
wife.
”

“Exactly.”

His voice was stone, but it had no effect on her. “This

isn’t one of your investigations. This isn’t an interroga-

tion. I didn’t marry a man with a badge.”

“You’ve always looked life square in the eye, Su-

sanna. Why not this time?”

“I
did,
” she said, “and it scared the hell out of me.”

The tightness in his jaw eased, and he moved down

the slope toward her, leaning hard into his heel cleats. If

he fell on his ass again, it’d be all over. She’d have the

opening she needed, and she’d be out of there, off to the

cabin, Iris and the girls. They’d never get back here

again, to the heart of the misery and secrets that had

oozed into their marriage. Murder, corruption, fear—

and silence. They’d eroded the trust between them, drove

them apart before they’d realized what had happened.

He’d vowed never to let his work come between

them. And it had.

He stood as close to her as he could manage without

kicking her with one of his snowshoes. “Half the rea-

son I fell in love with you was because you had the

strength and the backbone to take me on, on my good

days and my bad. I couldn’t just roll over you.” He low-

ered his voice, tried to soften it. “That works the other

way, too. You’re no picnic, either, darlin’.”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

He said nothing, the snow gathering on his new win-

ter gear, the lake and the trees—everything absolutely

silent.

184

Carla Neggers

“I didn’t want murder…your work…” She hesitated,

groping for the words she must have known she’d have

to tell him for months now. She shut her eyes, squeez-

ing back tears. “I didn’t want your work to infect our

lives. Not that way.”

“You mean a murder suspect walking into our

house.”

“He came into the kitchen. He didn’t knock.” She

opened her eyes again, but her face was white, as if she

were back on that day over a year ago. “I spotted him a

couple of times before that day.”

“When?”

“That same week. He showed up in town and then

again at the school. I didn’t know who he was. I hadn’t

paid enough attention to the news reports—he must have

seemed familiar to me, or I wouldn’t have noticed him.”

“Christ,” Jack whispered. “I didn’t know about the

two other incidents.”

She tightened her gloved hands into fists. “I wasn’t in

denial. I knew what I was doing when I didn’t tell you.”

“At the house,” Jack said. “What did McGarrity say

to you?”

“He was oblique—very careful.”

And she told him word for word, as if they were

back on that day and he’d come home and found her in

the kitchen staring at a cold cup of tea—and instead of

telling her about Alice Parker, he’d first asked her what

was wrong, and she’d confided in him. But he’d missed

it all—how terrified she was, for herself, for their daugh-

ters, for him. He’d missed it, and she’d run away.

He could see that so clearly now.

The Cabin

185

When she finished, she cleared her throat. “That’s it,”

she said quietly. “That’s everything.”

It wasn’t. He could tell, but he waited.

The snow continued, the flakes smaller, coming

faster. One hit her cheek and melted on contact. She

brushed at her face, her gloves covered in snow. “Ev-

erything except for the tape,” she said.

With anyone else, he would have kept quiet and let

the silence work to his advantage, but not with his wife.

“Goddamn it, Susanna, what tape?”

Her eyes flashed, the fight coming back in her. “I

taped my conversation with Beau McGarrity.”

Her conversation.

“Maggie and Ellen’s tape recorder was right under

my nose. It seemed like the thing to do.”

Jack stiffened. “What the hell would you have done

if he’d caught you?”

“He didn’t.” She wasn’t backing down. “It’s what

you’d have done. You know damn well it is. It wouldn’t

have mattered if you were a Texas Ranger or a

plumber—you’d have taped the bastard.”

“But I
am
a Texas Ranger.”

“Yes, and if he’d slit my throat in the kitchen, you’d

have had the evidence you needed—”

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, realizing the depth of her

fear that day. Even now.

“It was one of those little digital audio tapes,” she

went on. “Alice Parker showed up not long after McGar-

rity left, and I gave it to her. I didn’t think twice. I

thought she was working on the murder investigation.

Jack, that tape must be worthless. Alice was in such a

186

Carla Neggers

frenzy to nail McGarrity, if it had been any good, she’d

have given it to you—”

“Not necessarily.”

Susanna frowned. “Why wouldn’t she?”

“She didn’t like being arrested, Susanna. She

clammed up.”

“Then what did she do with it?”

He could feel the bile rise up in his throat, the past

months of frustration and stalemate crashing in on him.

“That’ll be harder to find out now, won’t it?”

“Give me a break, Jack. I’ve been married to a law

enforcement officer for a long time. Tell me you could

have used that tape. Tell me you think there’s a damn

thing on it—”

“You should have told me what happened that day.”

She turned away from him and stared out into the

snow, toward the lake. He could see tears shining in her

vivid eyes, mixing with the snow melting on her cheeks,

and he knew she’d get out of there before she let him

see her cry. “I went to call you, even before Alice showed

up.” He saw her swallow and knew she was fighting to

keep herself together. “It was my first instinct.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. I guess I wanted the whole thing not

to have happened. I’m used to you dealing with violence

and crime and all that—it’s your duty. You have the

training. You made that commitment. But Maggie and

Ellen—”

“And you. None of you signed up to put yourselves

in the line of fire.”

She took a shallow breath, not looking at him. “I

The Cabin

187

wanted not to feel something really had happened where

I needed you to protect me—to protect the girls. I

wanted there not to be this murderer and stalker who’d

walked right into our kitchen and made veiled threats,

not because of anything I’d done, but because I was mar-

ried to a Texas Ranger—”

“You wanted not to be my wife.”

That was it. The tears came, and she took off.

Jim Haviland had burned the meringue on two pies

in a row. He’d give them to Davey Ahearn and a bunch

of the construction workers who were regulars. He was

distracted because his daughter had just come in and an-

nounced she was expecting a baby. His Tess, who’d

been scared of kids since she was six and had lost her

own mother to cancer.

“We’re all thrilled,” Tess said, sitting on a stool at the

bar. “Dolly says she doesn’t care if it’s a baby sister or

a baby brother.”

“She’ll be a good big sister,” Jim said. “Andrew?

He’s excited?”

She beamed. “Oh, yes.”

“He’s a good father.”

“What about me? I’m a great mum. Dolly says so.”

“Dolly’s seven,” Davey contributed from down the

bar. He was Tess’s godfather, and Jim had been listen-

ing to the two of them for years. “What does she know?”

“I
am
a great mother.”

“Scared?” Jim asked her.

She didn’t look a bit scared. “I’m too green at the

gills most of the time to be scared.”

188

Carla Neggers

“No puking at the bar,” Davey said.

Tess ignored him. “I can’t wait to tell Susanna. Do

you have her number in the Adirondacks? I’m not get-

ting through on her cell phone.”

“Probably the mountains,” Jim said. “I don’t think

she has a regular phone up there yet.”

“Blackwater Lake.” Davey shook his head. “It’s as

deep in the boonies as it sounds. Hard to believe Iris

grew up that far out into the wilds.”

Just then Andrew and little Dolly swooped into the

pub, and Jim congratulated them, knowing he had a

tendency to sound awkward and repressed when he was

talking about things like his daughter being pregnant.

He didn’t give a damn.

Davey got down off his stool and gave Tess a big hug.

“Don’t think I’m going to be godfather to any new lit-

tle ones. Being your godfather’s been pain in the ass

enough.”

Jim gave Dolly a present he’d been saving, a new

stuffed animal he’d picked up at the New England

Aquarium. She was a cute kid, wanted to be a marine

biologist these days. But who knew? Last year it was a

princess.

After Tess left with her family, Davey plopped back

down at his place at the bar. “You going to start knitting

booties, Jimmy?”

But Jim’s attention was on a man coming over from

a back table and taking the stool Tess had vacated. He

set an empty beer glass on the bar. He’d been nursing it

for almost an hour. He was gray-haired, distinguished-

looking, wearing an expensive business suit. He had on

The Cabin

189

a college football ring, and he spoke in a twangy South-

ern accent.

He asked what he owed for the beer.

Jim told him. “Where you from?”

“Not here, I’m afraid.” He wasn’t snotty, but he

wasn’t friendly, either. Used to people waiting on him.

He added, “I’m in town on business.”

“We don’t get too many out-of-town businessmen in

here. We’re mostly a local place.”

“That’s what I like about it,” the man said. “A friend

recommended it. I overheard what your daughter said.

Congratulations.”

Jim didn’t know why, but the man’s words didn’t sit

well with him. He glanced at Davey and saw his friend

had the same reaction. “Thanks,” Jim said. “Where you

staying?”

“Hotel in town.”

That could be anywhere. He didn’t order anything