Chapter 3
NOLAN
As I unbuttoned my suit jacket, I settled into the cream leather cushions in the cabin of my private jet.
Across from me, Cressida lounged in her seat, looking regal in a faux fur coat, a fitted red sweater, and jeans so tight she probably had to peel them off.
She looked the part—gorgeous fiancée to a billionaire and an heiress in her own right.
When I sat, she gave me her signature cheeky grin reminiscent of when we were carefree teenagers.
Not for the first time, I cursed my selfish fucking father, wishing he hadn’t interminably intertwined our fates.
According to him, real relationships and feelings were frivolities not afforded to CEOs of billion-dollar companies or heiresses of global media enterprises.
My ringing phone pulled me out of my brooding, and I answered the FaceTime call.
“What is it?”
Steely grey eyes and a boulder of a buzzed head crowded my phone screen. Jason Jesko, my go-to private investigator and security consultant. “I looked into the letter, szef,” Jason said in lightly accented English as he chewed on a toothpick. “No trace of DNA. Generic paper, ink, and envelope.”
I gripped the armrest of my seat. “So you’ve got nothing. What exactly am I paying you for?”
A beat of silence. “I’m working on it.”
“Work faster,” I said between gritted teeth.
“Yes, szef.”
I slammed my phone on my thigh, shutting my eyes. When I opened them, Cressida’s curious gaze met mine.
“No progress with the letter?” she asked.
“I’m going to fire him.” I rubbed my jaw as the flight attendant came through with our drinks. I’d confided in Cressida last night after we’d…after, when we were talking in bed before she went to her own room.
Cressida snorted. “Keep that up and I’ll be the only one left. You need him.”
She was right, but I still wanted to fire him.
With a grunt, I tossed back my drink. We’d be in southern Montana in a little over two hours, and I was not going to face Hale’s Peak without taking the edge off first. My hand shook as I put my glass on the side bar.
The memories rippled at the edge of my awareness, threatening to pull me under, but I shoved them back.
Cressida placed a hand on my thigh, understanding lighting her gaze. Other than Daphne, she was the only woman I’d allowed to peek behind my CEO mask. In our younger years, we weren’t always friends, but now we’d bonded over our mutual disdain for my brother Raife.
My brothers and I had been close in our childhood, but after our mother’s death, we’d grown apart and chosen different tracks in life. Me, taking over the family business. Them, running in the opposite direction to their mechanic garages and faraway ranches. But Cressida had remained a constant.
I gripped her hand and squeezed. “I hope you’ll be happy in Montana this winter.” The truth of my words burned through me. I could be a grade-A asshole, but Cressida had been—and would be—beside me through it all. And I wanted her to be happy. Or, as happy as was in my power to make her.
A smile graced her ruby-red mouth, tinged with a hint of sadness. “Don’t worry about me, Nolan. I know how to take care of myself now.”
Four hours later, our driver, Stan, pulled the resort’s slightly dilapidated Escalade up to the main lodge.
Hale’s Peak was divided into several buildings with the main lodge, employee housing, the rental shop, and a handful of stores and restaurants clustered at the base of the mountain.
A few private cabins for rent sprawled toward the summit, but they were in desperate need of updates, as was Briar Manor, the original historic lodge up the road.
The snow was coming down in droves and Cressida jumped out of the car, a delighted smile on her face as she spun in a circle, laughing.
“It’s been too long since I’ve seen snow,” she said. In a rare move, she fit her hand around the collar of my jacket and pulled me close, looking up at me with those big blue eyes. “I’ll be very happy to spend the winter here, Nolan.”
Brushing a thumb across her cheek, I said, “Good.” But even Cressida’s joy could not lift the dark mood that had rolled upon me like a storm cloud as the weight of my past settled around me.
Ducking under the lodge’s awning to shelter from the falling snow, I squinted as I surveyed the area.
It was exactly as I remembered, right down to the stone clock tower and circle of Adirondack chairs around the fire pit.
Close by, an explosion of snow erupted out of nowhere. When it settled, a raven-haired woman on a snowboard laughed as her male companion sent a wave of powder in her direction. Something stirred within me at the sight of her infectious smile. Too much whiskey on an empty stomach.
“Mr. Keller! Ms. Sharpe!” An older man with a swathe of graying hair beamed as he approached. “I’m the property manager, Barney Huxby. Arthur instructed us to direct you to Sunset Heritage House. If you’ll allow me to assist you…”
I turned to look for the woman once more, but she’d gone.
Fifteen minutes later, Cressida and I were unloaded and moved into our new home for the winter.
Sunset Heritage House was a massive five-bedroom, three-bathroom A-frame home with a two-story addition.
Floor-to-ceiling glass walls on either end of the A-frame afforded an unimpeded view of the wilderness and snowcapped mountains.
The home was a far cry from my Presidio Heights residence—it felt like the log cabin in Little House on the Prairie.
But the faded ceiling beams, enormous stone hearth, and warm wood floors were nice enough, if extremely dated.
“I’m going to shower and relax for a bit before heading out to explore,” said Cressida as she hustled down the hallway with her massive suitcases in tow.
I knew better than to offer to help because the last time I had, she’d barked at me.
She liked doing things for herself, and I was proud of her newfound streak of independence.
From a young age, her parents had crushed her spirit, forcing her into the mold of obedient eldest daughter.
And in her engagement to me, she was filling that role once more.
Guilt bubbled in my chest, but we were both trapped and there was nothing to be done about it.
Sighing, I sank onto the threadbare couch crowded with pillows. With a moment to myself, the familiar mantra reentered my brain, louder than ever now that I was back at Hale’s Peak.
Your mother’s death was not an accident.
But I cut off the loop before it could consume me.
Glancing at my watch, I sighed. I was supposed to meet my Arthur-appointed “tour guide” at the lodge bar in twenty minutes—someone named Valeria López.
Sure, I’d meet her to get Arthur off my back, but I’d never actually use her services.
The mysterious letter’s contents throbbed in my mind like an aneurysm, but I couldn’t allow my past—or present predicament—to distract me. My career was on the line.
I adjusted my tie, smoothed my hair, and set out for the lodge, the box of memories rattling in my head.
Can only ignore it for so long.
Sooner or later, I’d have to face it. But I’d rather have a whiskey in my hand while I did so.