Cold River Read Online Free PDF Page A

of the radiators clanking against the winter cold.
    “Hey, Hannah,” Bowie said as he walked over to her.
    She stood up. “Bowie. It’s been a long time.”
    “I heard you were looking for me.”
    She glanced at the table of law enforcement officers, Camerons and one firefighter and saw they all were eyeing the man in front of her. She could hardly blame them. After getting out of jail, Bowie worked in Burlington through the summer and fall. In late November, he’d taken a job repairing a stone culvert in a cemetery down the road from Black Falls Lodge, and just before Christmas, he’d returned to his place on the river.
    Hannah hadn’t actually seen or spoken to him since his return to Black Falls. She’d only heard rumors about him. She’d stopped at the cemetery late yesterday looking for him, but he hadn’t been there. The elderly couple who lived across the road from the cemetery must have mentioned her to Bowie, and now here he was.
    His timing couldn’t have been worse.
    “I’d have called,” she said, “but you don’t have a phone.”
    “Correct. No phone—no landline, no cell phone.”
    “No e-mail, either.”
    He shrugged his big shoulders. He was wearing his habitual down vest and orange sweatshirt. “I get by without any of them. What can I do for you?”
    “Water’s getting in the cellar here.” She avoided even glancing in Sean’s direction. “I was wondering if you could check it out.”
    Bowie’s brown eyes were without expression. “What does your landlord have to say?”
    “He lives in California. I look after the place in exchange for a break in rent.”
    “I worked on the cellar here with your father when I was a kid. Whatever needs to be done, it’ll either be in the part we didn’t work on or it won’t be much. I’m on my way to a job now. I’ll come by later.”
    Hannah nodded. “Thanks, Bowie. Can I get you anything?”
    He grinned at her suddenly. “You’re kidding, right?”
    “No. What’s the difference between a blueberry muffin I make in my kitchen and one we make here?”
    “One’s free and the other isn’t.”
    She laughed and grabbed a muffin she’d accidentally broken in half. He wouldn’t accept anything that smacked of charity. “Here, take this one. I didn’t make it, though. Beth and Dominique did.”
    “Even better.” He pointed to the coffee urn behind her. “I’ll take a coffee to go. I’ll pay for it. Regular coffee. Don’t give me coffee with raspberry flavoring or something in it.”
    She filled a large to-go cup and handed it to him. He left money on the counter and walked over to the small coffee station. He added two sugars to his cup and put on a lid. As he reached for a napkin for his muffin, he addressed thegathering at the large table. “I heard about Drew. I know it’s a tough loss. He always tried to give everyone a fair shake.”
    Elijah tilted back in his chair. “Appreciate the thought.”
    If a wisecrack entered Bowie’s head, he had the self-control—or the survival instinct—to keep it to himself. “See you around. I have to get to work.”
    “Bowie,” Jo said, rising, “I hear you’ve moved back to town in the past few days. Why now?”
    “I never left. My place here’s my legal address.”
    Jo bristled visibly, but Bowie just turned and walked out the front door of the café, the door thudding softly behind him.
    Hannah didn’t wait for Jo or the men at the table to pounce. She ducked through the swinging door to the kitchen, untying her apron and hanging it on a hook. She ignored Beth’s and Dominique’s looks of concern, not stopping until she was through the hall door and in the mudroom.
    Seeing Bowie. His past. Her past.
    It was time, and she knew it. She was haunted by questions. Bowie. Drew Cameron. The old cellar hole on Cameron Mountain.
    She had to know.
    She reached for Devin’s empty daypack on the floor in a corner. He’d had it with him on the mountain in November. He’d tried to do