Kade made the turn and stopped to speak to the gate guard, a thin, ruddy-faced man with sparse gray hair. The guard found their name on his list and opened the gate, allowing them to wind on up the road to a house on Riva Glen. The property, a beautiful home surrounded by leafless aspens this time of year, was a castle-like structure with a couple of turrets and a rock façade.

Kade walked next to Ellie up the flagstone path and climbed the stone steps onto a covered front porch. The heavy wooden door opened as they arrived, and a pretty brunette in her thirties stood in the entry.

She smiled. She had very curly hair that didn’t quite reach her shoulders but seemed to fit her friendly face. “You must be Ellie and Kade.”

“That’s right,” Kade said.

“I’m Judith Springer. Please come in.” She stepped back to invite them inside, and they crossed a slate-floored entry beneath a frosted glass chandelier into a high-ceilinged living room. Tall, French-paned windows looked out toward the ski slopes on the mountain across the valley.

“Beautiful view,” Ellie said.

“We enjoy it.” Her eyes darkened with sadness. “Barbara loved to come here. We’re really going to miss her.”

Kade’s gaze traveled around the house. It was beautifully furnished in warm shades of beige, with traditional sofas and heavy damask silk draperies, a real showplace.

“Will your husband be joining us?” Ellie asked.

“Thomas wasn’t able to make it up for the weekend. My husband is president of Integrity Insurance National Health Care. Once the mountain is open, he tries to come up more often.” She smiled. “I’m fortunate to be able to spend most of the fall and winter up here, as well as several months in the summer.”

Kade wondered if that much time apart could actually work in a marriage. He’d been with Heather almost every day, and it still wasn’t enough.

Or maybe Ellie was right, and his wife’s unhappiness wasn’t entirely his fault.

One thing was certain—he didn’t want a marriage where he and his wife lived apart. And why the hell had the word marriage even popped into his head?

“Why don’t we get comfortable in the library?” Judith suggested. “There’s coffee in there, or something stronger, if you prefer.”

“Coffee sounds good,” Kade said, and Ellie nodded. They made their way into a study paneled in heavy, dark wood. Built-in bookshelves held hundreds of leather-bound volumes. As Judith poured coffee into three mugs and passed them around, Kade sat down beside Ellie on a comfortable, chocolate-brown leather sofa and rested his hat on his knee. Judith joined them in a matching armchair.

“First, we’d like to express our sympathy for the loss of your friend,” Ellie said. “We didn’t know Barbara, but she certainly didn’t deserve what happened to her.”