"We postponed a honeymoon. I only had a few days. I had to get back to Hurlburt-"
"You know what I mean."
Actually, he did. It was a rationalization, a way to make herself feel better about what he'd put her through. But he said nothing.
"Anyway, you didn't marry me," she went on. "And I didn't accept Louis's offer of a ride, and I didn't call the police from inside the Rancourt house and not run into Manny."
"That's not the same."
"You're not responsible for what's happened to me this week. Or last week. Or ever. I'm responsible for my own actions. Don't you think I understood the risks when I let myself fall for you? Ty-I've known you all my life."
He let the truck idle a moment. "When did you first want to sleep with me?"
She groaned. "You can be such a jackass, you know."
"Your sister says the jackass fairy must have visited me every night when I was a kid. You two work that one out together?"
"No, but I like it." This time her smile reached her eyes. "I wonder what a jackass fairy looks like."
"I'm really a nice guy. Everyone says so."
She went very still, her hands on her thighs. "You're the best, Ty. I've known that for a long, long time. But you're not-" She sighed, grinning suddenly, unexpectedly. "You're not normal."
"Normal?"
She nodded.
"Right. Like you are, she who can outstare an owl."
"Did you see my barred owl in the woods last fall? I think he knew I was going to be shot at. He flew away. I sometimes think if he hadn't, I might have been killed."
Ty shook his head. "Not to burst your bubble, babe, but it wasn't the owl that saved you. Those guys were using a scoped rifle. They missed you on purpose."
"You're probably right."
Carine settled back in her seat, and he continued up the road and turned onto the Rancourt driveway. Its blacktop was in better shape than the road, the sprawling house visible farther up on the hill.
"I think my digital camera's cursed," she said quietly. "When the police return it, I'm getting rid of it."
Ty stopped the truck at the bottom of the driveway and pulled on the emergency brake. When he reached over and touched her cheek, she didn't tell him to go to hell. "Your camera's not cursed. You're not cursed. And I loved you last winter. I loved you as much as I've ever loved anyone."
"I know."
He kissed her cheek, then her mouth, her lips parting. He threaded his fingers into her hair as their kiss deepened, memories flooding over him, regrets, longings-for her, for himself-but nothing that he could put to words.
She was the one who pulled away, brushing her fingertips across his jaw before she sat back in her seat. "You're a complicated man, Sergeant North."
"Not that damn complicated. I could pull over somewhere more private-"
"I think you've made your point."
Not very well, he thought. He knew Carine, and she'd be thinking he was just interested in sex and that was why he'd kissed her. And he was-he was very interested in sex. Hell, so was she. But his feelings toward her were more involved than that, only he didn't know how to get at them, crystallize them in a few words that made any sense. That was how he'd ended up waiting until the last minute to pull out of their wedding, just trying to think of how to say what he had to say, so that she'd understand and not blame herself. He got the blaming part right-she blamed him instead. But he'd mucked up getting her to understand.
He continued up the Rancourt driveway, which swept them into a parking area in front of an attached three-car garage. They were at a fairly high elevation, the expansive views of the surrounding mountains impressive, majestic more than intimate. The landscaping was natural and minimalist, designed to blend in with the environment, with a sloping lawn, stone walls and plantings limited to those that occurred in the area-flowers only in pots, no ornamental trees and shrubs. The glass-and-wood house was built into the hillside, two levels in front, one in back, with a screened porch and several decks. A separate dirt track curved up from the parking area to a rustic-looking outbuilding that Ty remembered served as a garden shed in summer and a kind of a warming hut in winter. It had its own potbellied wood-stove and a ground-level porch where the Rancourts and their guests could leave their skates and skis.
If they wanted to, Ty thought, Sterling and Jodie Rancourt could convert their place into a bed-and-breakfast or a ski club. It was big enough and had all the right amenities.
"I should go in there alone," Carine said, unbuckling her seat belt.
"I don't think so."
She let the seat belt snap back into place and looked over at him as if he hadn't kissed her at all, never mind that she regretted it. "Back off, okay? I'm not in any danger from the Rancourts."
Ty had no intention of backing off. "What if Louis Sanborn's murder is the result of a garden-variety domestic dispute? Sterling comes in, finds his wife and their new employee in the library and renders his own personal justice."
"And takes pictures before he starts shooting?"
"To keep the wife in line in the future."
"But he leaves the camera."
"Because Manny shows up."
Carine still was skeptical. " Sterling has an alibi."
"So did Jodie Rancourt. Hers didn't hold up, did it?" Ty unfastened his own seat belt-she wasn't going in there alone. "I'm playing devil's advocate, babe. All I'm saying is that anything's possible. And I'm with you all the way. That's not so bad, is it?"
She pushed open her door, one leg hanging out as she turned back to him and gave him a quick once-over. "You're not armed. If Sterling or Jodie or whoever decides to shoot me, they'll shoot you, too."
"Consider me a deterrent to violence." He gave her hisbestcockysmile."AndwhosaysIneedtobearmed?"
That drew a small laugh. She looked steady enough when she got out of the truck. Ty followed her up a short walkway to a flat stone landing at the front door. He leaned into Carine and whispered, "Don't you feel like you've just climbed the beanstalk to the ogre's castle?"
She bit back a smile, but she had her hands twisted together, obviously trying to keep them from shaking. It wasn't a pleasant errand she was conducting, but Ty knew she wouldn't give up now. That was Carine-in for a penny, in for a pound. Maybe it was her "strong moral compass" at work, but Ty suspected it was also plain stubbornness.
"We can still go camping," Ty said. "I'd keep you warm-"
"So would a good sleeping bag. Will you stop?"
But when Sterling Rancourt pulled open the door a moment later, Carine somehow managed to look less tentative and guilty. It wasn't her fault the police had the pictures of Jodie Rancourt and Louis Sanborn, but that only just now seemed to sink in. Sterling looked like a wealthy country gentleman in his wide-wale corduroys and Patagonia sweater, but it was clear he was prepared for this encounter with his photographer. He must have seen them coming up the driveway, Ty thought.
"Carine, Sergeant North," Rancourt said coolly. "What can I do for you?"
Ty checked out the guy's stiff manner. No tea by the fire today. But Carine, stuffing her hands in her pockets, not intimidated, plunged ahead. "I'm sorry about the disk, and I'm sorry things have turned out the way they have." She paused, but Rancourt didn't say a word, and she went on. "I didn't feel I could give the disk to Gary Turner. I had no idea what was on it-Sterling, I hope you believe me when I say that I had nothing to do with those pictures."
He shifted in the doorway, not meeting her eye. "I'm sure you did what you felt was right. It's not a pleasant situation for any of us, but I haven't seen the pictures. I'm not in a position to discuss them."
"I understand. Given what's happened, I think it's best I quit my job. Jodie has all the pictures I've taken so far. I really appreciate the opportunity you and Jodie gave me-"