Odd Man Out. B.J. Daniels

it. The living room had a fireplace at the entrance and huge glass windows at the other end, looking out on Hebgen Lake. To the left was an adjoining kitchen and down the hall was a bath, small office and laundry room. Max had converted the laundry room into a darkroom before he gave the cabin to Denny, Maggie had told him. Upstairs were two bedrooms along with another bath.

      J.D. was glad to see that the place hadn’t changed. He was even more delighted to see that it hadn’t been ransacked. In fact, everything appeared perfectly normal. Except maybe for the man-size pair of cowboy boots by the front door.

      Denver called out a tentative hello. J.D. wasn’t sure what he expected. But it wasn’t Pete coming out of the kitchen in his stocking feet and carrying a teapot.

      “Surprise!” Pete said, then stopped in his tracks as he spotted J.D.

      “Surprise,” J.D. said. Pete hadn’t changed at all; he still had those boyish looks J.D. had always envied. Nor did he look like a murderer, standing there in one of Denny’s aprons holding that teapot. Feeling foolish for suspecting Pete, J.D. extended his hand to his former best friend. “How have you been?”

      Pete didn’t move. Something J.D. couldn’t quite read flickered across his face. He quickly covered it with a smile and reached to take J.D.’s hand. “J. D. Garrison. Boy, has it been a long time.”

      Out of the corner of his eye, J.D. saw Denny frown.

      “I guess I should have made more tea?” Pete directed the question to Denny. There were already two cups and saucers on the coffee table in front of the fire. And a single red rose.

      How touching, J.D. thought and growled softly to himself. “Yeah, let’s have some tea and catch up on old times.”

      Pete didn’t look thrilled by the idea, to put it mildly.

      “Not tonight,” Denver said. She motioned to the orderly state of the cabin and lowered her voice. “As you can see, I’m in good hands.”

      “Yeah,” J.D. said, unable to come up with a reason not to go. Blurting out that Maggie thought Pete was a murderer didn’t seem like a great idea at the moment. And even if Pete were Jack the Ripper, it was doubtful he’d do anything to Denver with J.D. knowing he was there. “If you need me—”

      “I have more than enough baby-sitters for one night, thank you.” She opened the door for him.

      But he still didn’t want to leave her there alone with Pete. And not because of Maggie’s suspicions. He tried not to think of Pete and Denny in front of the fire, or the single red rose on the coffee table, as Denny closed the door in his face.

      He stood for a moment in the dark, lost. The idea of sitting outside the cabin posting guard seemed ridiculous as well as emotionally painful. Denny was right; she didn’t need him. He stalked to his pickup, trying to remember something important he’d meant to do at Max’s office earlier. All he could see in his mind was that cozy little scene back at the cabin. What’s wrong with you, Garrison? You’re acting jealous as hell. He jerked open his pickup door. Jealous? What a laugh. But as he climbed into the cab, he couldn’t get Denny out of his mind. Or Pete’s damned little tea party for two.

      That was when he recalled what had been so important. He’d spotted what looked like a wallet wedged behind the old radiator in Max’s apartment. He had started to work it out of the hole when he’d heard what he thought was the burglar returning. Later, when he’d looked up from the bathtub to find Denny standing there...well, he was just lucky he remembered his name.

      He turned the pickup toward West Yellowstone and Max’s office, promising himself he’d be back within the hour to check on Denver. As he raced toward town, he realized he was humming the same tune over and over again as he drove. With a curse, he recognized the song—“Tea for Two.”

      * * *

      DENVER TURNED TO FIND Pete looking a little guilty as he set the pot on the coffee table by the two cups and saucers and the sugar bowl.

      “So J.D.’s back, huh?” he asked. “Did he say how long he’s staying?”

      Exhaustion pulled at her. All she really wanted was to go to bed and sleep.

      “I know you said you wanted to be alone and I promise I won’t stay long.” He brightened. “I made tea.”

      “Tea?” Max used to make her tea when she couldn’t sleep.

      Pete sat down and proceeded to pour the tea. Denver had to stifle a smile as she took off her coat and hung it in the closet. The teapot appeared so small and fragile in his hands. She’d bet money this was the first tea he’d ever made.

      “I mixed the spiced kind with some other one that sounded good,” Pete said, confirming her suspicions. It also explained the peppermint scent. He bent over, the spoon clicking against the china cup as he stirred.

      “No sugar for me, please,” Denver said, feeling like the visitor. J.D. was right; Pete had certainly made himself at home. She could see that the laundry room door was ajar. She’d closed it before she left for the service, having souped some photos that morning to keep her mind off Max. What had Pete done? Searched every room to make sure Max’s killer wasn’t here waiting for her? It would have been funny, if he wasn’t so determined for her to stay out of Max’s murder investigation.

      “Oh, a little sugar never hurt anyone,” he said, handing her the china cup and saucer, her treasured rose-patterned dishes Max had brought her back from Canada. “Anyway, I’m afraid I put sugar in them both. I hope you don’t mind.”

      She didn’t have the heart not to drink the tea after he’d gone to so much trouble—sugar and all. Sitting down across from him, she said, “I looked for you at the party but you’d left.”

      He grinned sheepishly. “I thought I’d come on out and surprise you. I remembered where Max hid his spare key so...here I am.”

      Yes, here he was, even though she’d told him she wanted to be alone, she thought resentfully as she got a whiff of the strange brew. The last thing she wanted to do was drink it.

      “Do you like it?” Pete asked, sounding hopeful.

      The truth was she hadn’t even tried it. “It’s good.” She took a sip; it was too hot to taste, fortunately. The warmth seemed to take away some of the day’s pain. Max was gone. She’d have to learn to accept that. If only she could throw off the memory of J.D. in Max’s office. Max’s ransacked office. And J.D. grinning at her.

      Realizing Pete was waiting for her to drink her tea before he left, she took another sip and burned her tongue. Exhaustion had numbed her muscles and made her feel as if she were sinking into the chair. All she really wanted to do was put this day behind her.

      “So J.D. followed you home?” Pete asked.

      She saw his jaw tense and remembered the animosity she’d felt between the two of them earlier. “He’s like you, worried I might be in some sort of danger.”

      “Oh, really?”

      The phone rang. Pete offered to get it, but Denver was only too anxious to have an excuse not to finish her tea. She put her cup down and went to answer it.

      It was Taylor. “Denver?”

      She smiled. He always sounded a little embarrassed.

      “I was thinking about that trouble you had earlier with Cal. You’re all right out there, aren’t you?”

      Another man worried about her. If only they’d just let her get some rest. “I’m fine,” she said, thinking how much Taylor reminded her of Max.

      “I gave Cal a ride home but I was afraid he might decide to show up at your cabin. No trouble?”

      Denver thought about Max’s ransacked office. And J.D. “What kind of trouble could I get in?” She laughed guiltily but didn’t want to mention either problem in front of Pete. “No trouble. Pete’s