Get a Clue

Chapter 28

Cooper had ridden motorcycles all his life, so he figured riding a snowmobile would just come to him. Luckily, it did. It was an awesome feeling, gliding along the thick, powdery snow, beneath towering pines instead of crowded freeways. So was the sensation of Breanne snugged to the back of him, her chest pressed into his spine, her legs straddled around his.

That he could get used to. But it was cold, at somewhere around zero, far colder than he was used to. Being out here for longer than they had to be was a bad idea.

They followed Patrick, and Cooper was grateful the snow had stopped, because he had no idea where they were or which direction to go in. There were two colors; azure blue sky, and stark white landscape. The snow had thoroughly and completely wiped out any of the landmarks he might have remembered on the drive here-like roads. He figured if something happened and they were separated from Patrick, he could at least follow the tracks back to the house. Or so he hoped, because he really did not want to be a "lost in the Sierras" statistic.

Patrick led them straight for a few hundred yards, and then they veered right through a clearing, heading up over a hill. "We're still on the road," Patrick yelled back through his helmet. "Things are good so far."

"How do you know?" Cooper yelled back.

"Truthfully?" He craned his neck and lifted a shoulder. "I'm just guessing."

Great. Terrific. Perfect.

"The snow has never risen above the street poles before," Patrick yelled. "I'm estimating where they are by the slight indentations every ten yards or so. See?"

Cooper saw the indentations, and since they were at regular intervals, he could only assume Patrick was right.

Ahead, Patrick slowed, pointing to a steep incline that definitely was not the road.

"Should be able to get phone reception up there," he yelled, and with that, revved his snowmobile, let out a loud "Woo-hoo," and took off at a high speed, bouncing over unknown dips and curves.

Cooper's stomach sank. "Patrick-" Damn it. "He's going to get stuck-"

As soon as the words were out of Cooper's mouth, Patrick's machine took a nosedive between two dips and bogged. The engine died.

Patrick straightened, shot them an oops look, and tried to restart.

"He's going to have to dig out first," Cooper said with a sigh.

Sure enough, the motor wouldn't start, and as the snowmobile's entire front end was buried, there was no getting to the engine compartment without digging.

Patrick got off the snowmobile and sank up to his chest in the fresh powder. "Shit."

They dug for a few minutes and got nowhere. They were losing precious daylight.

"You go ahead," Patrick finally said. "Get to the top where you can use the cell. I'll keep digging."

Cooper didn't like the idea of separating, but it was going to take a good, long time to get Patrick's snowmobile running again. He'd feel better about spending that time if they could just get the police notified and on their way here.

He took it slower and smarter than Patrick, or so he hoped. They made it through the trees and ended up along a ridge, looking down onto a breathtaking landscape of crystal-clear lakes, pristine forests, and abundant wildlife.

"Wow," Breanne breathed in his ear when a wild rabbit dashed right across their trail.

Cooper turned off the snowmobile and pulled out his cell phone, pausing first to enjoy the feel of her up against him, her arms around his waist, her cheek resting on his shoulder.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "No reception?"

"There's reception." He closed his eyes and tried to soak up the moment so he'd remember, so he'd always remember this.

Breanne ran a gloved hand up his chest, settling it right over his heart. "I was wrong before, Cooper."

He twisted around to see her. "Wrong about what?"

"To let you think I wanted this to be over when we get out of here." She pulled off her helmet, waiting while he did the same. Then she pressed her mouth to his neck, his ear, and when he turned his body, she kissed him, long and sweet. "I was scared," she said when they pulled apart. "Still am," she admitted softly. "I know it sounds silly, but thinking about what I could grow to feel for you churns me up more than finding Edward. More than being in the dark for the past two days. More than-"

"I get it," he said dryly, stroking a finger over her temple along her hairline as a gust of wind hit, sprinkling a dusting of sparkling snow over them. "I scare you."

"Yes." She looked deeply into his eyes. "But you also make me feel. I mean really feel, and it's just so good, it might be worth the pain."

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said through an aching throat. "No pain, Breanne."

"You say that now, but you don't really know all my faults."

"They can't be that bad."

She laughed, then pressed her forehead to his. "I can't even tell you."

"I could tell you mine first, if that would help."

"You could?"

He shifted more fully around, facing her now, putting his hands on her thighs. "I let work fuck with my head."

"I know." Everything within Breanne softened as he let her see the things he usually kept hidden: frustration, anger, even shame, and if she'd managed to hold back her heart at all, it tumbled hard in that moment. "Anyone would have after what you went through." She rubbed her cheek to his, feeling her soul follow suit and tangle with his. "That you do what you do, day in and day out-"

"I walked away, remember?"

"But you're going back."

He looked down into her face. Slowly shook his head in amazement. "You seem so sure."

"I believe in you, Cooper."

"Even when I don't." He seemed unbearably touched at that. "You should know, being a cop in a relationship hasn't worked out for me in the past."

"Then maybe I'm not the only one who's made poor choices."

He laughed softly. "Yeah." He took a deep breath. "I guess I am going back. Is that going to affect your seeing me in the real world?"

"Why would it, if being a cop is who you are?"

His eyes were misty, his voice a little hoarse. "I have other faults, too," he warned.

"Please don't say that you like to hum Elvis tunes."

"I don't hum Elvis tunes."

"Thank God. Give me your worst, then. I know you put the seat down, and you don't snore."

"No." He was smiling. "But I don't fold my clothes. Hell, I don't even own an iron."

"But you like me in sweats. You get bonus points for that." She kissed him then, gliding her tongue to his until she lost her train of thought. "I bet you never have problems deciding what to wear. Maybe you'll rub off on me."

"Tell you what." He stroked his thumbs along her jaw. "I'll rub you and you can rub me. Any time."

She laughed. "Stop it. You don't know how bad my faults are yet."

"Name one."

"My Visa is always hovering at the maxed-out limit, even though my closet is overflowing with more shoes than all of San Francisco could wear."

"I don't care what your closet looks like, but I'm rather fond of those lace-up boots. You have any more like those?"

"Stop it. I'm being sincere here. I'm a bed hog-"

"Now that I already know," he said, wiping snowflakes from her cheek. "And I'm here to tell you, you can hog my bed any day of the week."

"I also like to get my way," she warned.

"Well, Princess, so do I. Maybe we could take turns."

She stared at him, her throat burning. "You're not taking me seriously."

"Baby, I'm serious as a heart attack. I don't give a shit if you steal all the blankets and can't afford anything but macaroni and cheese. Just so happens I have a closet full of blankets, and a savings account. Not a big one, but it could probably handle anything that comes up, Nordstrom sales notwithstanding."

"The good stuff rarely goes on sale."

"Give me a real reason we can't see each other."

She swallowed hard, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. "Because I like you."

He looked as if maybe he didn't see the problem.

"I really like you," she said. "And that has never worked out for me before."

"Does this feel like any of those other times?"

She blinked, and thought about that. "No. No, it doesn't. Actually… this feels much different."

"How does it feel?"

"Real," she admitted.

He let out a rough sound of pleasure and hauled her across him, cradling her over his lap, pulling her close for a long, deep, and decidedly not sweet kiss. "You know," he murmured when they came up for air, "I really thought life sucked. But then I saw you in that dark foyer, lighting the night with that pink vibrator." He grinned when she smacked his chest, but then he took her hand and held it over his heart, his smile fading. "I'm falling for you, too, Breanne, and to walk away now, before we give it a shot, just doesn't seem fair."

"So what do you suggest?" she asked shakily.

"That we get the police here. Do what we can for the others-"

"Oh, Cooper. You do care about them as much as I do." Her eyes filled, and so did her heart. "Do you have any idea how lucky you're going to get?" She kissed his throat, his jaw. "How very, very lucky?"

He slid his hands down to her butt and snugged her closer. "Keep talking."

Leaning in, she bit his ear. "I'm thinking this seat is pretty cushy…"

On his lap as she was, she felt his very satisfying reaction as he cleared his throat and pounded out 9-1-1 with shaking hands.

She laughed. "And here I thought maybe you'd want to… you know. Right here."

"Princess, I love you, but I'm not risking frostbite to my favorite part of my anatomy. I have plans for that part, and plans for you-Hello," he said when he got a dispatcher.

Breanne just stared at him, stunned at what he'd just said to her, only half hearing as he gave the information, listened to the response, then disconnected.

"They're prioritizing their emergencies," he said when he was done. "They're overwhelmed, but thanks to Edward, we're moving to the top of the list. I guess we can go help Patrick dig out and then get back to the house and prepare everyone. It's not going to be easy straightening this whole mess out."

Breanne was still speechless by his declaration, her gaze locked on his face, her throat burning with emotions too big to hide. "You… love me?"

"I do." He put her helmet back on, smoothed back her hair and smiled into her face. "Hold on tight, 'kay?" He nudged her behind him again and pulled her arms around him. "Ready?"

When she still didn't-couldn't-answer, he craned his neck and looked into her eyes. "Breanne?"

"Yeah," she said in a steady voice but with a very wobbly smile. "I guess the truth is, when it comes to you, I really am ready."

And God help her, but she was.

By the time they dug Patrick out and got back to the house, two hours had passed.

Everyone crowded into the foyer to greet them, looking anxious. Had they made the call?

Patrick nodded the answer.

"It's done, then," Lariana said quietly, as everyone seemed to deflate. "Someone's going to jail."

Dante looked stoic about that, but then Shelly burst into tears into her apron and his cool facade crumpled as he pulled her close. "It's going to be okay," he murmured into her hair.

"No." She pulled free. "No, it's not." Turning away, she moved out of the foyer.

Breanne went after her, and everyone else followed them to the great room.

Stacy was in front of the fire, staring into the flames, holding her hands out. "So pretty."

"Don't touch," Shelly reminded her, trying to sound normal.

Stacy giggled and pulled back. "I know, silly. It's hot.'"

"Hot," Shelly agreed, and ruffled her sister's hair, her expression crumbling when Stacy's face turned away. Breanne hugged Shelly, wishing she could do more.

Cooper moved to the fire, squeezing Shelly's shoulder before crouching beside Stacy. "The police are coming," he told her. "Do you understand what that means?"

"They're coming for Edward."

"Yes," he said gently, and Breanne fell for him all over again. "And they're going to want to know what happened to him."

Stacy's smile dissolved.

"We told you what happened," Dante said, face stoic. "It's done."

"Yeah, you told me," Cooper said dryly. "You told me you killed him." He turned to Patrick. "And you told me you killed him." He glanced at Lariana. "You said you did it." He lifted a brow at Shelly. "You, too. Do I have it straight? You all killed him, then?"

Everyone looked away. Cooper shot Breanne a helpless look and shook his head.

"We're trying to help," Breanne told them. "Please help us help you. Just tell us what really happened."

Shelly looked at Dante. "It's time-"

"Shelly-"

"It started with me," Shelly said to Cooper. "It did," she said when he looked doubtful. "I swear it."

Dante stepped forward, but she put a hand on his chest, and with a pleading expression, held him back. "I'm going to tell them."

"Shelly, Christ. No."

"You know I'm all Stacy has," Shelly said to Cooper and Breanne. "It's just the two of us. We used to live in a small apartment in town over the hardware store. I was commuting out here every day and Stacy was in a day care class at the rec center. A special program so she wouldn't be by herself."

"We painted," Stacy said with a dreamy smile. "Finger painted."

Shelly smiled at her. "That was your favorite, I know."

"Edward didn't like my finger painting," Stacy said, and rubbed the top of her hand as if it'd been hit.

Dante stalked the length of the room, his expression nowhere near calm.

"Edward wasn't much fun, I take it," Cooper said lightly to Stacy, though his eyes were anything but.

She shook her head.

"A month ago the state's funds changed," Shelly said. "And the money for Stacy's rec center program dried up. I brought her here, but she got into Patrick's paints and redid the hallway. Edward blew a gasket, to say the least."

Stacy lowered her head. "I was sorry."

Shelly hugged her. "I know. He had no right to smack your hand, no right at all." Shelly looked at Cooper. "Then the rent on my apartment skyrocketed and I couldn't afford it. But the owner of this place liked my work and told Edward to let me live in one of the downstairs servants' rooms until I found another place. He said it'd be no problem."

"But it was a problem," Lariana said. "For Edward."

"He lived here, too," Patrick told Cooper. "And it turns out, he doesn't like to share."

Dante paced some more, muttering something in his native tongue.

Cooper raised a questioning brow.

"I said he was an asshole," Dante said. "He made the girls feel bad all the time. He said shitty things to Lariana-"

"I didn't care what he said to me," Lariana said defiantly, tossing her hair back. "I could handle him."

"I cared," Shelly said softly. "But there was no other job where I could have Stacy with me."

Stacy stared at her fingers, twining them together, humming softly to herself as she began to rock.

"I tried to keep her busy during the day in our room, something she could do quietly so she wouldn't bother him," Shelly said. "Like reading and coloring, but sometimes she'd get bored."

"She just wanted to help," Lariana said. "But Edward wanted her gone. He even stole money out of my purse so I'd think it was Stacy. It wasn't," she said bitterly. "But in spite of him, I'd let her help me with stuff. She's a great sweeper."

Stacy lifted her head and beamed. "I like to sweep."

"It was nice for her to be busy," Dante said. "And it made her feel good."

"I'm guessing Edward didn't agree?" Cooper asked.

Dante let out a harsh laugh. "The day before you two arrived, Stacy was helping Lariana dust."

Lariana winced. "Probably not my best idea."

Stacy went back to humming.

"She broke a few things in the dining room," Dante said. "No big deal."

"Edward went mad," Patrick remembered. "Yelling and screaming. He threw stuff, too."

"He scared her," Shelly said as Stacy hummed louder, rocking, too.

Dante's face was granite. "I wanted to kill him."

"We all did," Lariana said. "But that was just anger and frustration. None of us really would have."

"He raised a hand to Stacy," Shelly said, "and I thought, this is it. He's going to hurt her again. And I… I caught his hand. I told him if he hit her, I'd kill him." She covered her face. "I told him if he did anything to her, even yelled at her again, I'd kill him, and I meant it. I meant it."

A long silence filled the room. Breanne squeezed Shelly's hand.

"I heard him yelling from the garage," Patrick said. "But as the sight of me usually made him more mad, I didn't rush in."

"I knew I was fired," Shelly said. "And I think I was numb. I went to our room to pack, but then I heard him yelling again, at Stacy. When I ran into the dining room, Stacy was standing over Edward, who was on the floor. He was…" A sob choked out of her. "Dead. He had a gash over his forehead and there were shards of a large glass vase all around him."

"That was the sliver of glass I found that first night," Breanne remembered.

Stacy rocked so fast she became a blur.

"I panicked," Shelly admitted. "Stacy was just staring at me like I was her whole world-" She swiped at her tears. "God. I'd threatened him. Everyone had heard me. And here he was, dead. But I couldn't go to jail-what would happen to Stacy?"

Stacy stopped humming and dropped her head to her knees.

"I knew I had to make it look like an accident," Shelly said. "I tried to drag him to the cellar stairs. They're steep, and it seemed like a good idea to make it look like he'd fallen. So…"

"You pushed him," Cooper guessed.

"I intended to, but I had a problem. He was heavy-he got stuck around that tight corner of the dining room. He got blood on the wall. He'd lost a shoe."

"So you got help," Cooper said.

"She didn't ask," Dante told him firmly. "But yeah, she got help. I carried him to the stairs on my own. I pushed him."

"I cleaned up the blood," Lariana said.

"And then shoved the towel you used beneath the sink." Cooper looked at Dante. "You left the gloves you wore beneath Shelly's bed."

"We were going to dispose of both when the roads cleared," Lariana told him. "But the roads never cleared."

"How did Edward get the hole in his chest?" Cooper asked.

"That would be me," Patrick looked grim. "When I saw how terrified Stacy was-" His voice cracked. "She couldn't even talk, man."

Stacy's fingers were white as she clenched and unclenched her hands. She'd begun to shake. Breanne stroked her back, feeling utterly helpless.

"I lost it," Patrick admitted. "I just happened to be holding the gun-I'd been scaring away a few squirrels. I looked down at the son of a bitch lying there, knowing he'd ruined all of us, and I shot him."

"You know that wouldn't have killed him," Cooper said.

"Aye, I know. But he'd said those things to Lariana, he'd terrified this poor little thing-" He gestured to Stacy. "The fucker deserved to die, mate."

Cooper sighed, scrubbed his hands over his face.

"You don't think so?" Dante demanded.

"It doesn't matter what I think."

"Since when?" Dante asked.

Cooper looked at him for a long moment. "Look, the guy \\ as an asshole, the worst kind. We all know it. But him dying wasn't for any of you to decide." Cooper dropped his hands and looked at all of them. "Why the hell didn't someone turn him in for harassment? Employee abuse? Hell, anything. It didn't have to get to this."

"Please don't tell the police what Stacy did," Shelly whispered. "Please."

Cooper let out a long breath, filled with tension and unhappi-ness, while everyone waited.

Breanne ached for him, and the decision she knew he faced. For Stacy, and her sweet, helplessly contagious smile.

When the doorbell rang, it was like a collective shot in the room; every single person jumped.

Dante and Patrick stood.

Cooper did as well, and stared at both of them. "Let me do this."

Neither man budged.

"Sit down," Cooper said in his cop voice. "Please," he added softly when they didn't move. "Trust me."

"You're a cop," Dante said as if trust and cop couldn't go together in the same sentence.

"Yeah, to the bone, I'm discovering," Cooper said dryly. "But at the moment, I'm not anything but a guy on vacation, Dante." He waited until the tough butler looked at him. "Trust me," he said again.

Dante stood for another long moment, then slowly sank back in his chair, arms crossed, the picture of arrogant punk.

Scared arrogant punk.

"Here's the thing," Cooper said to all of them. "The evidence never lies. You have the bloody towel, the gloves. Where's the vase that Stacy hit him with?"

Stacy turned her head. "I didn't hit him with the vase."

Everyone went still.

The doorbell rang again.

Cooper walked to Stacy and hunkered down beside her. "You didn't hit Edward with the vase?"

She shook her head, her wild hair flying about her face. "I don't hit." She leaned in with a conspirator's whisper. "I'm not allowed."

Cooper gave her a lopsided smile that Breanne felt to her toes. "Good girl. How did Edward end up on the floor?"

"He did this." Stacy stood up, clutched her chest, bugged out her eyes and stuck out her tongue, then fell sideways to the floor, gasping for breath. After three seconds of writhing, she sat up with a smile. "Like that."

Shelly clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, my God."

Cooper reached out and put a hand on Shelly's shoulder to keep her quiet, never taking his eyes off Stacy. "And the vase?" he asked her.

"He grabbed it on his fall. It made a pretty noise. Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, tinkle…" she sang.

The doorbell rang again. Cooper leaned in and hugged Stacy. "Thank you," he whispered. "You've been a huge help."

Stacy beamed.

Breanne raced after Cooper as he walked to the door, her heart so full she could hardly stand it. "Cooper."

"I have to get-oomph," he said when she flung herself at him. Fisting his hair in her hands, she pulled his head down for a quick kiss. "I'm not just falling for you," she whispered. "I'm falling hard."

Looking stunned, he stared at her.

"You." She put a finger to his chest. "Extremely lucky tonight."

That tugged a staggered-looking grin out of him. "Hold that thought."

Three hours later, the police were gone, and thankfully, finally, so was Edward's body.

Once again, everyone gathered in the great room. Cooper looked around and realized what was different-the tension was gone. He looked at Breanne and got a brilliant smile."

Heart attack," Dante said, looking just as flummoxed as Cooper felt. "Who'd have thunk it?"

"The coroner will have to say for sure," Cooper warned. "We're only assuming heart attack, but it makes sense."

"The police thought so, too," Breanne said. "They figured Edward was yelling at Stacy, got chest pains, gripped the vase hard. She thought he meant to throw it at her and screamed. Patrick ran in, assumed the worst, and shot in self-defense." She looked at Cooper. "Sounds like that's what's going to stick."

"It's unbelievable," Dante said. "No one's going to jail." He looked at Cooper. "You're not so bad. For a cop."

Cooper smiled at the backhanded compliment. "Thanks."

"So what now?" Lariana asked. "You two have half a week left. The weather is going to be gorgeous, and the skiing amazing. You staying?"

Breanne looked at Cooper. And with one smile, stole his heart.

"I could use a vacation," she said. "How about you?"

"A vacation sounds like just what the doctor ordered," he answered. "Starting right now." Getting to his feet, he swept her off hers and into his arms. Turning back to the staff, who were all grinning from ear to ear, he said, "I hear there's a hell of a honeymoon suite. With amenities. We'll be enjoying those tonight. Now that the road's cleared, you guys can all go home and take the rest of the week off. We'll be fine."

They whooped and hollered while Cooper kissed Breanne, then carried her out of the room and up the stairs.

She slid her arms around his neck. "Don't hurt yourself," she warned, her mouth on his ear. "I have plans for you."

"And I for you." He shouldered open the door to the honeymoon suite.

"My plans first-" she started, her words ending in a gasp as he tossed her to the bed.

With a grin, he followed her down, stripping off his shirt as he did. "Sorry. But I'm bigger-"

She rolled him. He couldn't believe it but she rolled him, held him down, and smiled wickedly before going to work ripping off his pants.

"Okay," he said, happily caving. "You first-"

This ended in a groan when she took her mouth on a happy cruise down his chest, his flat belly, to the prize between his legs.

"Wait," he gasped. She lifted her head.

"Earlier, when you said you were falling for me-"

"I meant it."

"So this is-"

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I love you, Cooper Scott." Her eyes stung with it, but she smiled because nothing had ever felt so right. "Now, pretty please may I ravish you?"

"For as long as you want, Princess. For as long as you want."