Mountain Angel
Northstar Angels – Book One
Suzie O’Connell
Copyright © 2012 Suzie O’Connell
All Rights Reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and places are fictional or used fictionally.
Books by Suzie O’Connell
Northstar Romances
Mountain Angel (Northstar Angels, Book One)
Summer Angel (Northstar Angels, Book Two)
Wild Angel (Northstar Angels, Book Three) – Coming Late 2013
Twice Shy (Hammond Brothers, Book One)
Once Burned (Hammond Brothers, Book Two) – Coming Early 2014
Other Titles
Home Now (A Short Story)
For Mom, Mark, Maddie and Holly.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Epilogue
Sneak Peek of Summer Angel
About the Author
Chapter One
ANY DAY THAT INVOLVED closing a case or, at least, any day that didn’t involve opening another, was a good day. By that rule, it had been a good day, but from the moment he’d opened his eyes with that long-familiar tension coiled tightly in his neck, nothing else about today had been particularly agreeable. It was just one of those days, the kind that really had no reason to be bad outside the inexplicable fog of depression. Pat was eager to go home, fix himself something for dinner and sit on his well-worn couch with a book and the radio on for background noise and wait for the day to be over.
He was just getting ready to head out the door when a familiar voice put his grandiose plans on hold.
“Pat, meet me in my office in a minute.”
Pat, his boss had called him, not O’Neil. Whatever Bill Granger wanted to discuss, it was personal. Anxiety curled tighter in his gut. There was one subject that had been flirting with his mind all day and he had no desire to let his boss drag him down that road right now. Even on a good day, a trip down that blade-strewn alley was a painful experience. On a day like today, such a trip would leave him exhausted and incapable of doing more than pulling the covers of his bed over himself and praying sleep would relieve him from the bitter memories and empty stomach.
To pass the time, Pat studied the photographs in Bill’s office. In a log frame on the wall behind the desk was a poster-sized photograph of a two-story cabin illuminated in filtered rays of golden sunlight. The structure was nearly an A-frame, but the peak was not as steep as the sides. On the desk were several pictures in weathered wood frames. Pat recognized Bill’s incredible, dark-haired wife and his sister and brother-in-law. There was a new picture of a beautiful young woman with strawberry-blond hair and striking deep-green eyes wearing a day-glow orange hunter’s vest and matching stocking hat. There was a rifle slung over her shoulder and a triumphant smile on her face as she knelt beside a magnificent four-point whitetail buck. She gripped the antlers with long, graceful fingers to hold the animal’s head up for the camera. Pat knew she was his boss’s niece and had seen her face smiling from a multitude of other photos, but he had yet to meet her.
Pat turned his attention from the pictures to the matching pair of four-tiered, wrought iron filing shelves. He hadn’t seen them before. The craftsmanship was stunning and, along with the collection of rustic picture frames, did a lot to reduce the beige sterility of the room.
The captain’s boisterous laughter rumbled through the closed door from the workroom. With his back to the door, Pat smiled as Bill entered noisily.
“Afternoon, Pat,” was his greeting.
“Afternoon, sir,” Pat replied as the older man sat down behind his desk.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? It makes me sound old.”
Confirmation of what he’d suspected. Nothing involving work would be discussed. His lips twitched upward again as Bill opened one of the drawers on the desk and took out a nondescript manila envelope. Bill was only fifty-three and still had the body he’d had at twenty while in the navy. His rich brown hair was only starting to gray on the sides and in his short beard. As usual, he wore blue jeans with a denim shirt and a buttermilk dress tie. He looked anything but old.
“So, Bill, where did you get these shelves? Don’t tell me your niece made them, too.”
“She did, actually. She’s had a lot more time to build since she went back to Montana.” Bill paused to look at the photograph of his niece. “Her friend June took this picture, and the one of my sister’s cabin on the wall behind me. So, Pat, you don’t have any plans tonight, do you?”
“No more than usual.”
“Good. Mary wanted me to invite you over for dinner. She said something about not bothering to come home tonight unless I brought you with me.”
Pat chuckled. “I suppose I shouldn’t keep you from your wife’s good cooking... not that you couldn’t stand to miss a meal or two.”
“Keep it up, smart ass. See you at the house?”
Pat nodded and left.
As he drove to Bill’s house, he decided that an evening with his boss and his witty wife was the perfect medicine for his ailments. So long as that subject wasn’t broached. However, Mary was always careful to steer Bill clear of it, especially on days like this one. As much as he didn’t like talking about that weekend three years ago or the miserable months leading up to it, he knew he’d have been lost without Bill and Mary Granger there to pull him back from the proverbial cliff’s edge. As it was, he still wasn’t too many steps back from it.
“Pat, welcome!” Mary greeted him with a warm hug when he arrived at the Granger’s modest house on the bluff overlooking the Indian Point beach. “I’m so glad you came.”
So am I, he thought. “Can I help with anything?”
“No. Everything’s ready. We’ll just wait for Bill to get home. He called a few minutes ago to say he was leaving. Would you like anything to drink? Beer? Wine? Juice?”
“Water would be fine, Mary,” he replied.
He followed her through the house to the back deck. The handiwork of Bill’s niece was everywhere. More frames of weathered wood, like those on Bill’s desk at the sheriff’s department, hung on the walls, filled with family photos and more of his sister and her family and their cabin in Montana. The end tables and coffee table in the living room were all log, but the kitchen table was solid oak––a family heirloom. Walking through the Grangers’ home was a stroll through a Rocky Mountain dream. Mary dabbled in interior design as a hobby and she’d put the rustic furniture and decorations to perfect uses. Her house could have graced the pages of a magazine devoted to Western living.
Pat would love to meet Bill’s niece someday. Bill had tried to introduce them in the past, but work, school, distance or something else had always prevented it. There had been many more opportunities in the last three years, but…. Pat shook his head and refused to turn down that trail of thought. He focused instead on deciphering what kind of woman was Bill’s niece. From admiring her work, he got the sense that she was dedicated, certainly, and artistic. But also giving, loyal, and he suspected a l
ittle stubborn. Any woman who chose to make her living in a field that traditionally belonged to men was no soft lady to take what life handed her.
With a sigh, Pat stepped outside after Mary and forcefully cleared his mind. It wasn’t hard to do. Below him, the tide was washing up the broad sand spit, stretching toward the rocks farther up on shore. The old, decommissioned ferry dock stretched far out into the glassy ripples beneath a cloudless sky and to his left, Seattle glittered in the distance, bathed in the rich golden light of the westering sun. It was one of those rare, perfect March days laden with the promise of the warmer months to come.
“Oh, I wanted to ask,” Mary said. “Do you know if Shannon got our birthday present? It was supposed to be there yesterday, but I haven’t had a chance to call your mom to ask. I’m sorry it was late, but it took longer than we expected to ship.”
“It was waiting for her when she and Mom got home from Seattle. She loved it.”
“Oh, did you change your mind and meet them?”
Pat shook his head. “No. I talked to Mom yesterday. I still can’t believe my little sister is seventeen already.”
“Neither can I, but I can’t believe you’ll be twenty-nine in a few more months, either. It doesn’t seem like so long ago that your father was more excited about your birth than graduating from college.” Mary smiled fondly and patted his hand.
“Are you calling me old, Mary?”
She laughed. “Indeed not. You’re just a pup. I’m calling me old. Was Shannon disappointed you didn’t go?”
“No. I think she understands.”
Mary hesitated a moment, then said quietly, “I’m glad Bill convinced you to come work for the sheriff’s department. I think you’re happier here than you would have been if you’d stayed with the Seattle PD.”
Pat nodded. “It’s certainly a much quieter job. Grandpa Antony says the Kitsap Peninsula fits me better, and he’s right. I still can’t believe I thought he’d be disappointed when I decided to leave Seattle. He was proud that I’d seized the opportunity to become a detective and glad that I was happy.”
If Mary noticed how his voice hitched on the last word, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she pointed out the beach party below them. A group of teenagers had broken away from the bonfire and were now racing across the sand toward the water’s approaching edge, followed by a black lab, a border collie mix and two smaller mutts. Their excited, carefree voices rang wonderfully in the still evening and Pat found himself smiling.
Bill arrived a scant twenty minutes later to find his wife and Pat laughing uproariously at the antics of the teenagers and dogs.
“Glad to see your mood’s improved, Pat,” Bill remarked as he joined them.
“Your wife is a charming woman,” Pat said. “I can’t help myself.”
“She certainly is.”
Mary went back inside, leaving them to talk. Dread wormed its way back into the pit of Pat’s stomach. There was nothing overly prodding about Bill’s demeanor, but he suspected his enjoyable evening was about to head in a direction he didn’t want to go.
“Before you give me your usual, evasive responses, hear me out.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Absolutely not.” Bill took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “You’re regressing. Over the last few months, I’ve watched you, concerned that you’re sliding back down into the pit. I’d be willing to bet a large sum of money that you’ve had as many bad days as good in the last three months. That worries me, Pat. You’ve worked too hard to recover from Sara.”
And there it was.
“I want you to take a vacation.”
“I’m fine, Bill.”
“I’d be more convinced by the truth, and we both know that isn’t it.”
“C’mon, Bill. It’s been a long, wet and gray winter. Everyone’s been—”
The look Bill gave him—brows lifted, mouth flat—silenced him. He’d never been able to lie to his friend. Why should that change now?
“There’s a trend here, Pat. Every time something reminds you of Sara, you have one of these days after,” Bill went on. “What did you see, hear or do yesterday that reminded you of her?”
“My mother mentioned her. First time I’ve talked to my mother in two months and she came up. She always does.”
“What do you mean, ‘mentioned her’?”
“Mom thought I should be warned, but I wish she hadn’t told me. Apparently, yesterday when Mom took Shannon shopping for prom in Seattle, they bumped into Sara at the mall. She asked how I’ve been.”
“That little….” Bill shook his head. “I’m sorry, Pat. I shouldn’t be dragging you through this tonight. It just makes me so angry. What you need is a good woman like my niece to show you Sara isn’t worth any of the pain she’s caused you.” He cleared his throat, and Pat sensed he was stalling. “My niece is the other reason I wanted you to come to dinner tonight.”
Pat sat back in his chair and gaped. The situation had suddenly gone from depressing to absurd.
“Oh, no. They’ve finally gotten to you, haven’t they? Listen, I’m sure she’s a very nice girl, but…” Pat was interrupted by Bill’s laughter. It boomed loud and clear in the still evening air.
Bill kept laughing until his eyes glittered wetly.
“You think that’s what I’m trying to do? You really know how to bring a man to tears, Pat.” Bill wiped beneath his eyes, still chuckling. “I’d bet my niece would be a much better match for you than any woman anyone in the department can find, but I refuse to do that to you. Much as I’d love to have you legally a part of my family as a nephew, I’m afraid my reason for mentioning her is more serious.”
Bill pulled the manila envelope out of his bag and handed it to Pat. On the cover was one of the more unique names he’d seen. He knew it had to be the name of Bill’s niece but it was spelled oddly; Bill had always pronounced it like the flower, Alyssum, when he wasn’t calling her what sounded like “Allie”. How on earth had she ended up with such a name? For the moment, he ignored his curiosity and opened the envelope.
Inside was what appeared to be a criminal file, but less… official. There was no rap sheet of past discrepancies or mug shot. Instead, there was a sheet of personal data including the last known address, phone number—both of which were months out of date—the physical descriptions of the man and a photo. Pat narrowed his eyes. There was something about the hazel eyes that hooked his attention, a contained fervor shimmering beneath a placid surface. He had the look of someone who had spent his entire life reaching for something unattainable and had not yet realized the hopelessness of his endeavor. The longish, messy medium-brown hair was further evidence, but beneath the mop, the man could be called good-looking. What a pity. Behind the photo was a copy of a restraining order. There were a few more pages, but Pat shifted his attention for the time being back to Bill.
“What is this?” he asked.
“The biggest favor I’ll ever ask of you. Aelissm called me two days ago. I told you that she’d moved back to Northstar, but not why. Adam Winters,” Bill tapped the picture from the file, “has been stalking her. It started almost a year ago, when her fiancé, Bryce Ellington, died. We filed a restraining order against him, and he’s broken it, but he’s off the grid. I can’t find him to arrest him.”
“So you want me to find him.”
“Yes and no. There’s more to it. The night he died, Bryce tried to rape Aelissm. Adam heard her scream, came to her rescue and started to strangle Bryce. Aeli ran out. As it turns out, Bryce died of a burst aneurysm, possibly brought about by being throttled, but there’s no way to prove it. A neighbor had seen Bryce that night, stumbling back to his apartment. She thought he was drunk––and he was. By that time, Adam was long gone, so Bryce was still alive after Adam left. The landlord found Bryce’s body in the morning, when he entered the apartment for a routine testing of the smoke alarms. It’s a mess.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Anyhow,
a copy of the statements and records of Bryce’s death are in the back there, along with the statements Aeli gave to get the restraining order and what she dictated to me over the phone the day before yesterday.” Bill paused and took a deep breath. “Adam has had a thing for her since they met a couple years ago. At first, she was flattered and I thought he would have been a better match for her. Until this mess happened, I liked him. I still want to like him, because I think he’s a good man beneath it all, but something snapped that night. He’s become obsessed with her. She changed her phone number, moved…. About six months ago, she moved into my sister’s cabin in Northstar. Her grandparents own a place called the Bedspread Inn and she’s sort of taken over operations. She also teaches a blacksmithing class at the university in Devyn, one night a week.”
“So, how do I fit in to all this?”
“This is your vacation. I want you to go to Montana. Take a couple months to relax and clear your head. And, while you’re at it, protect my niece and find anything you can about Adam Winters.”
Pat considered Bill’s request, then laughed. “Good one, Bill. You almost had me, what with the file and the story.”
Bill’s eyes hardened. “I wish to God this was a joke. There isn’t much Aeli can’t do, but when she called me two nights ago, she was in tears. I don’t trust anyone else to do this, Pat, and even if I did, I’m not kidding about wanting you to take a break. You need to get away for a while, take a step back and forget about Sara.”
“It’s not that simple, Bill.”
“I understand that. I also know that working yourself half to death hasn’t done you a bit of good. I’m hoping a good, long vacation away from everything that reminds you of her will succeed where distraction has failed.”
“I suppose you have it all figured out,” Pat said. He winced. He hadn’t meant that to come out so harshly.
“You’ll stay with Aelissm, of course. She could probably use a little extra help at the Bedspread, and it would give you something to do and a little extra cash.” Bill held Pat’s gaze for a moment. “I love you both. I hate to see either of you struggling and by sending you to Northstar, I’m giving you a break and her some protection.”
Mountain Angel (Northstar Angels, Book One) Page 1
