Page 138 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“Tell me where Jane is.”

“So you can k-k-k-kill me f-f-faster?”

“At least you’ll be out of your misery.”

“Your concern for my well-being is t-t-t-touching.”

He crouched down until his face was inches from hers. “Tell me where she is.”

“D-don’t know.”

“I was outside when Dean was at your house. I heard you tell him you knew where she was. And that you hadn’t yet told Cote.”

He’d listened to their entire conversation? No wonder he’d killed Dean. But Dean had confessed everything to Deborah, and Deborah would tell Cote. Did Deborah know that Salcito had worked with Aspen’s mother?

If so, then even if Dean died, Salcito was going down.

“D-d-deborah knows. She’ll t-t-t-tell.”

“I heard all the lies Dean spun,” he said. “One thing I’ve learned in my years as a lawyer and a politician is that, when an unexpected situation crops up, you work the problem in front of you. I’ll deal with Deborah later. First I need to find your mother. Where is she?”

Aspen shuddered, both from the cold and from his words. How would he deal with Deborah?

Would he have another murder on his conscience?

Assuming hehada conscience?

“Not until you”—she paused through another shudder—“tell me what happened.”

“If I do, you’ll tell me where she is?”

“So you can let me f-f-freeze to d-d-d-death?”

He shrugged out of his jacket and slipped it over her shoulders. His lingering body heat enveloped her as she pushed her hands into his sleeves. He zipped it up, his closeness sending a whole different kind of quaking through her body. But he backed away quickly. “Better?”

She nodded, hating herself for loving the warmth he’d given her. She took a few breaths and forced herself to calm. She was still cold, but it was tolerable with the jacket on. “I came to find out what happened to her. At least give me that.”

He sat beside her on the stoop. The narrow staircase had him too close, but she wasn’t going to complain if it meant she’d get to breathe for a few more minutes. “Everything went according to plan until we got there that night. The building was dark. But there was a car in the parking lot. We’d decided that if we thought anybody was there, we’d leave. But Jane…” He shook his head slowly. “When she decided to do something, nothing could stop her.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

THIRTY YEARS AGO.

It was a miracle Jane hadn’t been pulled over after the explosion.

Maybe not a miracle, though. Every police officer, fireman, and paramedic in town—probably within a few towns—was headed to the sight of the explosion. Nobody was looking for a red hatchback, not yet.

And the overlook was only a ten-minute drive from the lumber company, along back roads that wound through the forest and past summer houses that were mostly abandoned in March.

Though Jane drove, she seemed to have lost her grip on reality.

Brent feared that something in her mind had snapped. He directed her, afraid she’d forget her destination. She did what he told her to do, but when he caught her eyes in the rearview mirror, it was obvious that she wasn’t all there.

They drove up Rattlesnake Road, past the condo development that was under construction and the one house on the road.

“Slow down,” he said. “I’m parked right…”

But she zoomed past his car.

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