in the main room playing a listless game of Scrabble.
How legit were those two? If he’d ever seen pure horror on anyone’s face, he saw it on Laurel’s when they uncovered the dead woman in her trunk. After they came inside, Caroline’s stunned reaction was as believable as her mother’s. Then he left the room for a few minutes to place that radio call and came back to find them laughing—well, Caroline anyway. Laurel’s expression had been confounded as a coyote staring down a rabbit hole.
Were these a pair of stellar actors, or were they as innocent as they seemed? Laurel hadn’t done well at hiding her feelings from the moment he opened his front door to them, so he’d be surprised if she was that good at pretending. On the other hand, from what he’d overheard of their discussion about him, Caroline had also recognized his face and hadn’t batted an eyelash. If she easily masked surprise, could she fake it, as well?
He attacked a tomato with a knife.
His brief observation of the body, clad in button-down blouse and sleek pants, revealed Ms. Eldon as tall, blonde, full-figured and leggy. Caroline was a snip of a girl. The picture of her lugging that body into the garage from wherever and lifting the corpse into the trunk simply did not compute.
David’s knife halted halfway through a downstroke into the meat of the tomato.
Unless little Caroline had an accomplice—like her too-attractive-for-his-own-good mother. They were both petite, but together they could have managed it.
Maybe he was on to something. Laurel had protested him joining her to collect the luggage. Maybe they were planning to ditch the corpse down one of the ravines along the route, but the snowstorm scuttled their best-laid intentions.
But then he came back to that look on Laurel’s face as she stared into the trunk. He couldn’t quite buy a put-on when the response was so spontaneous. Besides, if she knew the body was there, she could have been more forceful in her refusal of his help. Why did Laurel even bring up the luggage if the mention could lead to discovery of her grizzly secret? If she was that desperate to freshen up, she could have sneaked out there while he was warming up the radio and been back in with the bags before he knew she’d gone.
Then there was Caroline’s cheerful announcement that she’d set up the game. No trace of anxiety and no attempt to stop them from retrieving the bags.
David began giving the salad the tossing of its life.
Could his unexpected guests be setting him up for some reason? The pieces didn’t fit that scenario either. He didn’t see how they could have planned for a snowstorm to dump them on his doorstep. Plus, he’d never met the dead woman, though there was something about her...His brows drew together. What had he glimpsed out there that gave him this feeling he needed to take another look?
He shrugged off the thought with a roll of the shoulders. He didn’t know the woman. Never seen her before in his life, and he wasn’t going to meddle with a crime scene. Period.
But his guests knew the dead woman, and it seemed that Caroline had cordially disliked her. That was a tick mark against the teenager, but he’d had plenty of teachers during his school career that he’d wanted to ship to Timbuktu in a packing crate. Of course, he never would have followed through with his desires, any more than Caroline’s feelings about her teacher meant she’d killed the woman. Surely, the police investigators would realize that much.
Not that he had much faith in cops giving anyone the benefit of the doubt. Come to think of it, he didn’t have much confidence that they’d solve the murder. Look how they’d done on his case. Lots of crimes never came to closure and left people in a limbo of pain and distrust.
David stopped tossing the salad and leaned against the counter. There was his answer. He wanted people to treat him as though he was innocent until he was proven guilty. Shouldn’t he do the same for Laurel and Caroline?
“Something smells wonderful.” Laurel leaned a shoulder against the kitchen door frame.
David offered her a smile, but she stared back at him as if she’d never seen one before. She was still dazed, and he couldn’t blame her. He stirred the sauce bubbling on the stove.
“If you and Caroline want to set the table, we can eat in about ten or fifteen minutes.”
Laurel called her daughter, and they headed to the glass-fronted cupboards that held plates and glasses.
“Wow!” the teenager said. “This kitchen’s got about every technogadget on the planet.”
David wrinkled his nose. “I know. It looks more like the kitchen of a five-star restaurant than a cabin in the woods. I like to cook, but the prior owner was something of a gourmand. I was told that he sometimes brought his private chef with him. I prefer doing things the old-fashioned way.” He motioned toward the paring knife and cutting board.
“Which reminds me,” he continued, “I’ll move into the chef’s bedroom tonight, and you two can have the larger bed in my room.”
“You don’t have to do that, Mr. Greene.” Laurel said.
“Not doing it because I have to...and it’s David. Remember?”
Their gazes locked. Laurel clutched a short stack of plates to her chest. Her eyes searched his. Would she be able to see that he meant her well? That he was not a threat to her safety, and that he wasn’t going to judge her?
She gave a brief nod. “Thank you, then.”
“Don’t thank me too much.” He chuckled as she headed for the sitting room with the plates, Caroline in her wake, toting fistfuls of silverware. “I’m going to make you change the sheets yourself. You’ll find a stack of them in the hall closet. Take your pick.”
Laurel glanced over her shoulder, a corner of her mouth quirked upward. “I think we can handle that.”
Soon they sat down in front of steaming beef stroganoff, tossed salad and biscuits with honey butter.
“What an awesome feast!” Caroline eyed the serving dishes.
“I wish I had more of an appetite.” Laurel’s words came out softly.
Enthusiasm faded from Caroline’s face, and her gaze fell to her empty plate.
“I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have said that.” Laurel covered her daughter’s hand with hers. “You enjoy this meal, and I’ll do my best to follow your lead. It does smell wonderful.” Her gaze cut to David and then back toward her daughter. “We can’t allow ourselves to feel guilty for living.”
Caroline gazed at David. “You can tell she’s got a master’s degree in psychology, right?”
David folded his hands. “You can be thankful for and take pride in an intelligent and well-educated mother.” Did he detect a smidgeon of gratitude in Laurel’s eyes?
“Um, yeah.” Caroline’s nose wrinkled the barest degree.
“You can tell my daughter has never looked at the matter that way before.” Laurel’s statement was directed toward David but her attention was fixed on her daughter. Their stares dueled.
“Feel free to dig in.” David delivered the invitation, then closed
