When he opens the front door, it whips out of his hand, and he curses. I turn around to squint into the woods. It’s dark enough that I need to check my watch. Four fifteen. Yes, inmidwinter, this would be dusk, but in late March, we should have another few hours of sun.
“Coming in fast,” I say, and I need to raise my voice over the howl of wind.
Dalton only grunts and waves me inside. The fire is out—we don’t waste wood when we’re not home. I shuck my outerwear and head for the fireplace as Dalton slams the door behind me. Then he bangs on it, and I head back to help secure the heavy latches that will keep it snugly shut against the wind.
By the time the fire is roaring, that’s the only light in the house. Dalton has closed and latched all the shutters. I turn on the living-room light. In Rockton, we used a combination of battery lanterns, oil, and candles. While we have oil and candles here, innovations have made higher tech more energy efficient. We have solar panels on the house—ones that won’t reflect and alert passing planes. That means electricity. We don’t always use it, but being able to flip a switch and get light feels like a minor miracle. It’s a reminder of just how outdated Rockton had become. Solar could have worked. So could tech like tablets and cameras. But that cost money, and there were investors to feed.
Haven’s Rock is what Rockton should have been all along. The philanthropic project of a billionaire who doesn’t give a damn about the tax-deductible status of her donation. Haven’s Rock helps Émilie give back, and we accept that. We also accept a modest salary because, when Rockton shut down, people who’d devoted years of their lives to it realized they were being thrown into the world with the equivalent of pocket change.
Having all expenses covered means we don’t need much income, but it’s important to know that if this town fails, our staff will be in a financial position to reestablish in the real world.
I don’t really have that concern. I came to Rockton with asizable inheritance, and while April and I contributed to rebuilding, we have plenty left.
The main advantage to a lack of greedy investors is state-of-the-art construction. Our fireplace will heat our whole chalet through a snowstorm. The solar battery will give us light even on days with limited sunshine. And our very solidly built house will withstand Nature’s beating. While I putter about, Dalton heads off to literally batten down the town’s hatches with others.
I can only faintly hear the wind outside, and with the windows shuttered, it’s easy to forget what’s happening there. I’m reminded when Dalton bangs on the front door and shouts for me to unlatch it and stand back.
I do, and when the door flies open, a bucketful of snow rushes with it. I peer out into what looks like a night scene, the sky dark, snow blasting in on a wailing wind.
Dalton has to lean on the door to keep it shut as I latch it. When we’re done, he exhales and leans against it.
“Hot chocolate?” I say.
“Please.”
He shakes off the snow, making me yelp as it hits my bare feet.
“Toasty in here,” he says.
“You complaining?”
“Nope.”
He heads for the kitchen, but I shoo him into the living room. I’ve been off my feet for hours. I can handle making him a hot drink.
We sit and drink our cocoa and listen to the whine of the wind.
“Sounds like a bad one,” I say.
“Worse than I expected. Definitely a blizzard.”
“Everything okay in town?”
“Yeah. I just don’t like…” He shakes his head. “Shitty timing.”
It takes a moment to realize what he means. Shitty timing because it means we’ll be grounded for a few days. While flying south is never as easy as calling an ambulance, it’s nice to know we have that option. We don’t right now.
I get off my recliner and snuggle down beside him on the sofa. “I feel fine.”
“Good.”
I reach and take his chin to turn his face toward me. “Really. I feel fine. My biggest worry is how the storm’s going to delay my investigation.”
“At least we don’t have to worry about anyone else getting dosed at the Roc,” he says. “Storm like this means it’ll be closed for a day or two.”
“Which might not be such a bad thing.” I lean in to kiss him. “Let’s take advantage of the fact no one can come banging on our door tonight.”
He arches one brow.
