She’d quit skiing to hurt Gavin, but hurt herself and her kids instead. “I remember.”
“Why couldn’t you have stayed like you were?”
So he’d known about Gavin’s affair. If Ian had told her he knew, she would have talked to him about the issue. That had been a difficult time, and it angered her that she stayed with Gavin, buried her humiliation, then he left her anyway. Not for another woman but because he said she was bad for their children. She hadn’t had the affair. He had. “Since you know, maybe you could have some sympathy and tell me what happened with Nora.”
“I met her last year. We had a short relationship, and the result is Ethan.”
“How do you know the baby is yours? If the relationship as you put it was short, it could be anybody’s.”
“It. You’re referring to Ethan as it?”
Somehow she just couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice. She loved Ian. Nothing else should matter, but instead of relenting she said, “Don’t be so sensitive.”
“I guess I shouldn’t expect anything more from you.”
“What do you know about Nora? Who are her parents?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Of course it matters. We need to know what kind of family she comes from.”
“Why? Because ours is so great? Look, Mother, I have a son. I’m not sure what I want your involvement to be, but your attitude isn’t helping.”
Where did my little boy go? “You’ve already let your father spend time with him.”
“Dad likes kids.”
What right did he have to be so rude to her? She came here to tell him she was proud of him and look where they ended up. She tried to regain her composure and softened her voice. “Do her parents live in Holden? I’d like to meet them.”
Ian sighed. “Nora grew up in Holden. She was adopted by Lisa Hudson. I can see by your plastic expression you know who Lisa was.”
“You can’t be serious. What about her birth parents?”
“She’s never spoken about them.” Ian stood. “I think I’ve had enough.”
* * *
“Time to get up,” Kalin shouted from the kitchen. Almost seven, and their dinner guests would arrive soon. She poured olives into a bowl she’d bought in Mexico, a souvenir from a trip with Jack. She hadn’t told Ben where the bowl came from. She hadn’t told Ben what Reed said about him either. Too many secrets.
She leaned over the top of the couch and shook Ben’s shoulder. “Did you hear me?”
“I’m up.”
“No, you’re not. You need a shave and a change of clothes.”
Ben rolled off the couch and plodded toward the bathroom. “Why are we having Nora for dinner?”
“So we can get to know Ethan. I know you’re tired, but this will be good for you. It’ll take your mind off of…”
He turned and stared at her for a moment. He walked back to her and smoothed her hair around her ear. “I’m fine, so stop worrying. It was only a nap.”
“That’s not true. You’re all sweaty. I know you were having a nightmare again.”
Ben shook his head. “I’ll go get ready.”
Chica sat on the slate tiles, waiting for a treat. Kalin eyed her, wondering if she’d have an issue with a baby. She hadn’t seen Chica with a tot before.
Showered and shaved, Ben returned wearing a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, jeans and a leather belt. He uncorked a bottle of red wine with a pop. “Can Nora drink?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so if she’s breast-feeding. We’ll have to ask her.”
Kalin placed Chica’s food dish on the floor just as the doorbell rang.
Ben ushered Nora into the living room, and she set Ethan, still in his car seat, on the floor in front of the unlit fireplace.
Ethan made a sucking noise, and Chica got curious. Ben held her collar and let her sniff Ethan. She stuck her nose in his face, snorted and went back to eating her dinner.
“I don’t think she’s impressed with him,” Nora said.
Ben placed asparagus wrapped with prosciutto, and red peppers filled with melted blue cheese on the coffee table. “If he had food, she might be.”
Halfway through the appetizers, Kalin asked, “Who was the woman in your hospital room?”
Nora flushed. “Some friend of Lisa’s. No one important.”
If the woman was a friend of Nora’s adoptive mom, she hadn’t looked that friendly. “It looked like she was bothering you.”
“Not really. I didn’t feel like talking with anyone I didn’t know. I guess she was just being polite.”
The doorbell rang.
“Is someone else coming for dinner?” Nora asked.
“Nope.” Kalin placed her wine glass on the table and trotted to the door. Pete Chambers stood on her doorstep.
“Nice bike,” he said. “Did you match the blue frame with your helmet on purpose?”
Kalin’s helmet hung from the handlebars where she’d left it, hoping to air out the sweat. “Yup.”
“You ride a lot?”
“As much as I can,” Kalin said. “But not often enough.”
“Me too. One of my favorite sports. If you have a minute I’d like to talk with you about insurance.”
“Sure. Come on in. Nora Cummings is here with her new baby.”
Pete removed his work boots, and Kalin led him into the living room.
He stood, his muscled hands clenched in front of himself, fidgeting. Chica sniffed wildly at his jeans. Pete reached down and pet her head, and in reaction to the attention Chica planted her rump on his toes. “She must smell Farley.”
Kalin introduced Pete to Nora.
“We’ve met,” Nora said. Pete looked uncomfortable, and she continued. “The other day in the deli. You were with Susan Reed.”
Pete smiled. “I remember. A bit of an awkward moment. How’s your son?” He nodded in the direction of Ethan.
Nora smoothed Ethan’s wispy hair. “He’s great. He doesn’t sleep as much as I would like, and he eats a lot, but he’s a happy baby.”
“May I hold him?” Pete asked.
“Sure.” Nora got up, unclipped Ethan from his car seat and passed him to Pete.
He held the baby with such joy on his face that Kalin wondered if he was thinking of his own child. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
Pete put his nose against Ethan’s head and inhaled. “I’d love to, but I’m trying to meet up with as many of my clients as I can. Everyone is concerned about the plan to rebuild.”
“Can I at least get you a drink? You look beat.”
Pete nodded, and Kalin poured him a glass of red wine. He returned Ethan to his car seat before taking the glass.
“Ethan’s grandparents must be excited,” Pete said.
“He doesn’t have any,” Nora said. “My mom died last year. I have cousins, but that’s all.” Nora straightened Ethan’s bib, wiped spit off his chin then laughed. “That was bad. I guess Ian’s parents count. It’s hard to think they’re related to Ethan when I barely know them.”
“What’s the plan to start building again?” Kalin asked Pete, trying to save Nora from an awkward situation. Nora didn’t usually call Lisa her mom, but Kalin guessed she was keeping the explanation simple.
“I’m not sure yet. With the accident at the cabin, I’ve been a bit busy.”
The sadness of losing Jason returned to all of them. She didn’t want Ben obsessing over Jason’s death but thought it would help if he knew the cause, if only to reinforce the accident had nothing to do with him. “Do you know why the cabin fell?”
“Not yet. The investigation is ongoing. As for the fire, my insurance company is still working out the details. They’re waiting for the RCMP to complete the fire investigation. It’s not clear yet what they’re going to cover.”
“Does that mean we can’t rebuild?” Kalin asked.
“I hope not,” Pete said.
* * *
Pete Chambers
shoved paperwork off his mahogany desk and into the top drawer. He hadn’t had lunch yet and was hungry. He’d designed his office for comfort, a place where he worked and thought, and sometimes had his meals. Instead of working or eating, he was worrying about his insurance, unsure of how things were going to go.
He should be helping Jason’s widow and not wondering if his company was at fault. He knew what she was going through and staying away from her was probably best. He’d be a bad reminder of what happened to Jason.
Mounting his road bike and peddling to exhaustion was what he needed to clear his head. The sound of a car arriving distracted him, and he glanced through the floor-to-ceiling windows facing Main Street.
Constable Miller parked in a diagonal spot, got out of the RCMP SUV and made his way into Pete’s office.
Farley ran to Miller and circled his legs.
Pete stood. “Farley, get over here.”
“Don’t worry about him. I like dogs. This one seems friendly enough. Can’t imagine he’s much of a guard dog, though.”
Pete laughed at Farley’s enthusiasm and invited Miller to sit. “He’s not. Likes everyone.”
Miller sat in a high-back leather chair facing the desk and gave the room a once over. Farley settled with his back leaning against Miller’s shin.
A dramatic painting of a storm passing over the Purcell Mountains dominated the wall behind Pete’s desk, and Miller studied it. “Looks like our peaks. That done by a local artist?”
“Lisa Hudson. Her gallery was not far from here.”
Miller rubbed Farley’s ear, and Farley pressed his head into his hand. “I knew it.”
Disloyal dog. “Do you have some news?”
“You could say that.” The cop’s face was unreadable. Not friendly, not unfriendly. Serious.
“How can I help?”
“You can tell me how kickbacks work.”
“Kickbacks?”
“Yes.”
“Kickbacks for what?”
“For suppliers delivering materials to you first. Maybe even when others have ordered before you. You have a reputation for getting to a job quickly and being able to commit to timelines when others in the area can’t. How is that?”
“I have a good relationship with my suppliers. They know I’ll pay on time, and they know I’ll give them future business. That’s why they deal with me first.”
“Maybe kickback is the wrong word. The way I understand it, when supplies in the valley are short, you always seem to get materials even when another company ordered before you. It makes it difficult for your competitors to meet their deadlines. Are you giving the suppliers extra to deliver to you first?”
“It’s because I pay on time. Nothing more.”
“I’ll check into that.”
Interesting response. The cop must be on a fishing trip based on rumors. If he had proof, this would be an entirely different conversation. “What does this have to do with the fire?”
“Do you have any enemies? Someone who might want to cause you harm?”
Pete used a letter opener to draw creases on the pad of paper lying in front of him. “I don’t think so.”
“Your homes under construction are destroyed by arson. The fire almost took out Stone Mountain. One of your employees dies within a few days on your site. That doesn’t worry you?”
“Of course I’m worried. My business could go under.” Pete had a terrible thought. He’d taken Susan on a tour of the new development. He’d been bragging about his company, trying to impress her. His employees had a trash pile burning, and she’d asked him about his insurance and what happened if there was a fire. She’d even commented on how close the development was to the resort. He knew she was bitter about her husband leaving her, and her ex just happened to be the president of Stone Mountain. And then there was the lighter. He gave his head a shake. “I don’t think the two incidents are related.”
“What do you know about your employees working at the cabin?”
“Just the usual. I have reference letters and résumés. I don’t see them outside of work. My supervisor takes care of the day-to-day details.”
Miller referenced his notes. “That would be Connor Olsen?”
“Yes. Why?”
“No reason. If you think of anyone who might want to make your life difficult, let me know.”
An image of the woman from Pete’s past sent a shiver of fear up his spine. “Sure.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kalin clutched Ben’s hand. The sadness of the memorial service for such a young man was overwhelming, and Kalin wasn’t the only person holding back tears. Celebrating Jason’s life was difficult, but she felt she owed it to Cindy to at least try. She dabbed her eyes with a tissue, breathed deeply and concentrated on not crying.
Ben wiped sweat off his forehead.
“Are you okay?” Kalin asked. Dark smudges under his eyes blended into his cheeks. He’d paled since entering the church, and she didn’t think it was the heat making him sweat.
“I wish I could help Cindy,” Ben said.
Cindy sat in the front row of the Unitarian church, flanked by her and Jason’s parents. Tessa Weber sat beside Cindy’s dad. The service was intended to be a celebration of Jason’s life, not a morbid ceremony. Several of Jason’s co-workers and friends, including Ben, had been asked to talk about his life, focusing on the good times. Instead of a coffin, photos of Jason filled the front of the room and chronicled his life.
Kalin wished for another thunderstorm to break the humidity and maybe some of the tension in the room. The outer doors were open, but without a breeze, the temperature remained high, causing her to sweat too.
Ben and Kalin sat near the rear of the church. Constable Miller surprised her by entering the room in full dress uniform. She raised her head at him in an unsaid question, but he only nodded and sat. She watched him watch everyone else.
“Don’t start,” Ben said.
“Start what?”
“I saw you look at Miller. He’s here out of respect. Don’t make this into a murder investigation.”
Kalin understood Ben was struggling with Jason’s death, and she wanted to help him, not make his life harder, but his words stung. “I won’t.”
Pete Chambers sat with his construction crew in the back row, his head held high and his eyes downcast. Kalin recognized Connor Olsen from his profile picture on Pete’s company website. Connor sat beside Pete, hands in his lap, eyes facing the door, giving the appearance of a man waiting to make an exit. He’d tried to tie his midnight-black hair into a ponytail, but the short bits hung against his neck.
The church sat a hundred people. With Jason’s high school mates, the snow making team, the fire department, the construction workers, friends and family, the church couldn’t hold everyone, and those without seats stood outside.
The fire chief spoke on behalf of the fire department. He remembered the times Jason put himself in harm’s way to protect others. How his last battle had been with the fire that almost destroyed Stone Mountain. Gavin Reed sat in the row ahead of Kalin, nodding at the chief’s comments.
Ben walked, step by slow step, to the podium. He turned and faced the audience. “Jason…” he began. He lowered his head, and as Kalin watched him, she wanted to run to his side.
Ben cleared his throat. “Jason should be here today. He was one of the good guys. Husband, friend, firefighter and life saver. You all know he saved my life. Because of his bravery, I’m here today.” Ben continued to talk about Jason’s life.
No longer able to contain the flood, Kalin’s tears fell freely.
Ben finished by saying, “Cindy, we love you and are here for you.”
Even though Cindy asked everyone here to celebrate and not cry, she shed tears at Ben’s words.
On his way back to Kalin, Ben stopped when Cindy stood. She put her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder.
At the end of the service, people shuffled through the oak doors
and gathered on the front lawn. Pete hovered at the edge of the grass and out of the way. Kalin went to say hello, but Amanda Tober pushed her aside. Twenty-three years old and still living at home with her parents, Jason’s younger sister exuded immaturity. Amanda was five-foot-three inches, but her petite size didn’t take away from the strength in her voice. “How dare you come here?”
Pete lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Loss? You call Jason dying a loss? It’s a tragedy. You have no right to be here.”
“You’re right. I’ll go. I wanted to pay my respects.”
“You could respect us by leaving us alone. It’s your fault he died.”
Jason’s father placed his hand on Amanda’s shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart. This won’t help anything.” He tugged her away from Pete. Before she was out of earshot, she got in another jab. This time at Connor Olsen. “You get out of here too. Jason hated you.”
Connor stared at his feet, avoiding eye contact with Amanda.
Kalin put her hand on Pete’s solid bicep. For a guy his age, he was fit. “You all right?”
He nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Why does she think this is your fault?”
Pete shook his head and shrugged. “I would too if I were her.”
“Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.” Kalin turned and bumped into Constable Miller. As she passed him, he whispered in her ear, “Don’t start investigating. Remember what happened last winter.”
* * *
After the funeral, Kalin went back to work and Ben went home. He couldn’t face the silence, so he jogged to the firehall with Chica. He reached the hall and flopped onto the couch. Chica rolled onto her back, content having him rub the sole of one foot along her belly and oblivious to his sweaty running sock.
A group of firefighters hung in the lounge, spread out on three Ikea couches in an arc around the coffee table and facing a forty-two inch flat screen TV and a beer fridge. A few cracked open a beer. Someone started the coffee maker in the adjoining kitchen. The room beside the kitchen contained meeting facilities, complete with white boards, conference table and communication equipment. The room hadn’t been tidied since the fire, and the whiteboards were covered with diagrams and plots to stop the fire from spreading. The chief had taped a photo of Jason on the board.
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