Page 23 of Dangerous December (Northern Pines Suspense #8)

With Dev’s permission, Beth lent his late mother’s car to Elana, and insisted that she drive to and from her jobs at the motel and bookstore, and whenever she took Cody to school.

Dev, bless his heart, had become something of a private guardian, driving past the bookstore after dark, perhaps coming by more times than she even knew.

With both the loaner car and his reassuring presence, Elana seemed to gain confidence as the days passed.

In the process of working with the residents of Sloane House, Dev and Beth had both ended up at the house for several casual lunches with whoever happened to be home at the time.

There’d been no mention of that kiss or warm embrace, though the memory hung between them like a minefield, and they tiptoed through every encounter, polite and formal and businesslike.

But today, with the town’s Fall Harvest Festival in full swing for the entire weekend, there’d be little time for leisurely talks over sandwiches and coffee.

Beth surveyed the bookstore and smiled. “You’ve been a wonderful help, Elana. I think we’re ready, don’t you?”

Pumpkin-scented candles on candle warmers were placed strategically high, away from the reach of toddlers and the grade-school finger-dippers who wanted to play with the fragrant, melted wax.

Arrangements of fall leaves and chrysanthemums graced the larger tables.

The front counter, where separate bowls of Halloween-decorated cookies and pumpkin-shaped homemade dog biscuits—unfrosted, so there’d be no confusion as to which was which—awaited the crowd of tourists who came to Agate Creek for the weekend festivities.

Elana leaned over the fall-themed display in the front bay window to look out at the booths lining the streets and the growing crowd. “It is fortunate to have such a sunny Saturday. It should be a very big day, yes?”

“I hope so. All of us are offering big sales, and the newspaper and radio ads in the Twin Cities should bring traffic our way. I hear the B&Bs and motels are all full.”

Elana leaned farther on her braced hands until her nose practically touched the glass. “There is a very big crowd in front of Dev’s store.”

Beth joined her at the window and felt a thrill of excitement over the gathering of people at the end of the block. “It looks like it’s quite a hit.”

Though only a sampling of the stock had arrived and the display units and shelving weren’t completely in, he and Frank had put up colorful posters outside to advertise the type of stock and services that were yet to come.

Four kayaks in a brilliant rainbow of colors had been delivered just in time and were displayed out in front, just as he’d first envisioned.

“Well,” Beth said, taking a deep breath. “It’s ten o’clock and time to open the doors. Are you ready?”

Her dark eyes shining, Elana nodded. “I think this will be a day to remember.”

When he’d first heard the details of his mother’s will, Dev had imagined six long months of responsibility while playing nursemaid to a houseful of faceless old folks who probably needed a higher level of care.

He’d been here a full month, and his perception had changed a hundred-eighty degrees, challenging his original plan to stay emotionally distant until he could finally escape.

Cody had become his shadow.

Frank, with his strong organizational skills, had been teaching Dev about running a business, but in a fatherly, gentle way that was totally the opposite of Dev’s own late father.

Even Carl had come over to help with the carpentry on the interior of the store, and he’d worked faster and harder for his money than most men half his age. The others from the boarding house had dropped by now and then to help unpack boxes, sweep and dust, or just to offer encouragement.

His houseful of faceless, unwanted responsibility had started to feel like family.

“Hey, son,” Frank called out from the front door. “Someone wants to buy a kayak and is asking about accessories.”

Dapper as ever in his worn suit, crisp white shirt, and tie, Frank had conceded to the theme of the store by exchanging his bomber hat for a fishing cap emblazoned with a giant, thrashing walleye embroidered on the front.

Glancing at the fierce fish on his head, Dev raised a hand in acknowledgment, finished a sales transaction for spandex biker shorts and a new brake assembly for a mountain bike, then locked the register and made his way through the crowd to the front door.

Frank met him at the door and rested a hand on Dev’s back as he pointed out the right customer.

“I should have hired extra help today. I had no idea,” Dev said, close to Frank’s ear.

“If you’d like, I could call Reva. She knows how to handle a cash register.”

His eyes sparkled, and a note of pride crept into Frank’s voice whenever he spoke of the woman who was apparently the love of his life, though she didn’t appear to be aware that he even existed. Still, he doggedly treated her with proper, courtly respect at every opportunity.

“Good idea. Thanks.” Dev gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder, wishing he could do more to smooth the way for his friend.

Maybe...if the store stayed busy, he could hire her part-time, so she and Frank would end up working together...

He snorted at the thought. Of all people on the planet, he was the last who ought to interfere with anyone else’s affairs of the heart. He’d loved Beth Carrigan with all his heart, and where had it gotten him?

Long nights. No interest in anyone else. And businesses at opposite ends of a block.

There were occasional working lunches, when they carefully kept their conversations focused on the people of Sloane House and discussed how they could best help them. But nothing more.

He searched out the kayak customer and worked his way over there. “Hey, how can I help you?”

It was ironic that he could make that offer to someone else, yet not be able to help himself.

By five o’clock, the crowds had thinned to a trickle. Dev’s shoulder was aching, and Frank looked exhausted.

Reva, who had handled the cash register for hours as well as finding varying sizes and colors of items in the back room for customers, looked as fresh as a pristine, ivory rose, her posture perfect, her black hair and elegant features unruffled.

“I’m going to run across the street and get us all some coffee,” Frank announced, his eyes shyly fixed on Reva. “Black with cream and one sugar?”

She inclined her head in a regal nod. “Thank you, Frank.”

The woman needed to give him more points for effort, Dev thought as he restocked a display of Swiss Army knives by the front door and watched Frank head across the sidewalk. Belatedly, he realized he should have given Frank some cash.

Locking the glass display, Dev started out the door. “Frank!”

Frank paused at the curb, then started across the street.

“Frank—wait a minute.” Dev started after him, caught behind a family moseying down the sidewalk with a herd of small, sticky children holding balloons that were bobbing crazily in the breeze at adult eye level.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a dark sedan pull slowly from the curb at the far end of the block. As it drew closer, he caught a glimpse of a husky driver holding a cell phone at his ear and the steering wheel with his other hand.

The balloons bobbled back into Dev’s line of vision just as the sedan suddenly swerved and lurched forward.

A sudden premonition sank its talons into his heart. “Frank! Look out!”

Oblivious, Frank kept walking.

Someone screamed. Stragglers in the street scattered, gripping the hands of small children as they threw themselves out of the way.

Apparently startled by the motion rather than the noise, Frank spun around and started to run.

But it was too late.

The car caught him broadside. His body tumbled in the air as if in slow motion, then landed with a sickening thud and the sound of fracturing bone on the street, a good twenty feet from impact.

People shouted. The scene was now a blur of color and movement as the vehicle screeched around the next corner on two wheels and rocketed out of sight.

Dev started running. Even as his mind automatically clicked into emergency mode, his heart wrenched with grief for an old man who couldn’t possibly sustain injuries from that kind of impact and survive.

He started to pray.

“I failed. I could’ve saved him, but I failed,” Dev ground out, his elbows propped on his thighs and his face buried in his hands.

Beth rested a hand on his back, wishing he would sit up and make eye contact.

When she’d arrived in the E.R. waiting room he’d been sitting alone, bent over his knees with his fists clenched behind his head. Lost in his own world, he hadn’t acknowledged her greeting or her presence for a good twenty minutes.

Whether he was praying or reliving Frank’s accident she couldn’t guess.

But then he’d straightened up in his chair. His guilt and grief were so palpable that it seemed the whole room was filled with it.

“He’s lucky to have a good friend like you, Dev. You can be supportive while he recovers in the hospital. And he will recover. You can help him even more once he’s released.”

“He’s lucky? Someone else could’ve moved faster. Done the right thing.”

“No one else even tried. They were all running scared. “

“As for being a good friend? I can’t even relate to civilian life. Not anymore.”

With a sudden flash of clarity, she realized this was not just about the gravely wounded man who’d been in surgery for almost two hours now, facing a battle for his life.

She placed her hand over his and squeezed gently. “You tried to warn him. You tried to get there in time. It wasn’t possible for anyone to do better. He’s in God’s hands now.”

“God’s hands.” Dev’s voice was low and bitter. “Where was God whenever I prayed desperately for someone’s life? When that hit-and-run driver headed for Frank and stepped on the gas instead of the brakes? Where was God when that Afghan mother and her two kids—”