Smiling, I made my way to the narrow road leading up the mountain. The sun peeked out from the clouds, and I glanced up, hoping it might melt some of the snow that had fallen over the past few days. The light glinted off a piece of metal. What the heck?
I moved closer and shaded my eyes to try to make out what I was looking at. It was a camera. Pointing right at the entrance of the drive to the lodge. How long had that been sitting there and why hadn’t I noticed it before?
With a new purpose in my step, I trekked up the road until it ended in a turnoff to the right. I hadn’t been up this far before, but it had to be the way to Griff’s since his was the only property beyond mine.
His cabin sat in the middle of a small clearing. Smoke drifted up from a chimney and several outbuildings clustered around the main cabin. A huge dog ambled over, its tail wagging. It looked a lot like a big, shaggy wolf, and I tightened my grip onthe bread. If it got too close, I could toss the bread into the woods and try to make a run for it.
Thankfully, it didn’t join me on the porch when I stepped up to knock on the door. There was a light on inside, but the silence was absolute. His truck parked in front of the garage, so he had to be home. Maybe he was ignoring me again.
Then the sound of metal clanging on metal rang out from behind the cabin. Not sure what to expect, I rounded the building and caught a glimpse of Griff lifting a huge hammer over his head before bringing it done on a workbench.
“Hello?” I called out.
He looked up, surprise quickly turning into a frown.
I held the banana bread out in front of me like a peace offering. “Do you have a second?”
He lifted his arm and swiped it across his forehead. Even with the temperature hovering in the low forties, he was only wearing a tank top. His muscles bulged, and I sucked in a breath. Dirt or something dark smudged his forearms and biceps.
“What do you need?” He set the hammer down and grabbed a towel. “Did your fire go out?”
His assumption that I was incapable of starting my own fire rubbed me the wrong way. “No. I used the stove to bake some bread. Banana with chocolate chips. I wanted to thank you for your help the other night.”
His brows arched with interest, and he held out his hand. “Is it any good?”
Of all the nerve… I wanted to scream. Instead, I smiled, slow and sharp, the way my mother did right before handing someone their own ass at a fundraiser. “Try it and find out.”
He unwrapped the foil, broke off a corner of bread, and tossed it in his mouth. “Mmm. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” I waited for him to invite me in or offer me a cup of coffee. Seemed like that’s what neighbors did whensomeone stopped by, especially with fresh baked goods. But Griff didn’t do any of that.
He set the bread down on his workbench and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Did you need something?”
Irritated and slightly rattled by the sight of so many muscles, I wet my lips and forged ahead. “I found my uncle’s journal the other night and wanted to ask you a few questions about it.”
“Like what?”
“Can we go inside for a few minutes?” My feet were frozen from walking through the snow, and I couldn’t feel the tips of my ears since I’d forgotten to grab my hat on the way out.
Griff let out a sigh. “Follow me.”
He led me up a set of stairs to the back door of the cabin. I paused to appreciate the amazing view from the deck before heading inside. His place wasn’t anything like I’d expected. It was smaller than the lodge, but warm and cozy inside.
“This is nice.” I kicked off my wet boots and left them by the door.
“Built it myself.” A look of satisfaction flashed across his face before his features settled back into his customary scowl.
I reminded myself I wasn’t there to hand out compliments. He’d already shown me he didn’t want to be the kind of neighbors who got together for barbecues and stopped by for conversation. “So, two things. First, do you know anything about someone pressuring my uncle to sell his property?”
Griff’s jaw slid from side to side. “He mentioned he’d received an offer, but said he turned it down.”
“That’s it?” The man was more difficult to read than my college roommate’s annotated Hemingway collection, but even that had been easier.
“What else do you want to know?”
“His notes said something about harassment. That was the last entry he made, and it was just a few days before we foundout he’d died.” I paused, searching for even the slightest sign that Griff had a clue about what might have been going on. His flat expression gave away nothing. “Do you think something bad happened to him because he didn’t want to sell?”
“The sheriff ruled it an accident. That’s all I know.” He shrugged those broad shoulders, unafraid to look me straight in the eyes. If he knew more than he was letting on, there wasn’t any sign of it. “I need to get back to work. Was there anything else?”
