by Nancy Bush
“Thought the sister of one of the victims was making introductions,” he said.
“Fat lot of good she was.” Gretchen sniffed. “Her primary objective is for us to put away her great-niece and the niece’s ‘filthy hippie’ husband.”
September said, “We’ve talked to most of the neighbors, at least the wives. Got a few husbands left to interview, some other family members. We’re having to meet them face-to-face or they ignore us.”
Gretchen added, “The Singletons didn’t play with the other kids in the neighborhood.”
“They were in their seventies, climbing toward eighty when they died,” September added. “If they had friends on the street, they’ve all moved away. No one left in their age bracket except Grace Myles, who suffers from dementia, and Mr. Bromward at the far end, where Aurora hits the county highway.”
“That about where the county road intersects with High Lake Road?” Wes asked.
“The one that circles Schultz Lake. Yeah,” September answered, surprised. “I didn’t realize Schultz Lake was so close. Probably a mile as the crow flies from the cul-de-sac at the end of Aurora.”
“You hear the decision on Roy Bolchoy?” Wes asked her.
September shook her head. “No. Is the case going to trial?”
“Nope.” A slow grin slid across his face. “No evidence. It’s either missing, lost, or never was.”
“Huh. Good for him,” September said.
Gretchen said admiringly, “God, I thought they had him for sure.”
“Just wish he woulda got the Carreras while he was at it.” George was dour. “Lucky us, they’ve moved to our ’hood.”
“They’ve cooled off their acquisitions around Schultz Lake,” Gretchen said.
“Temporary,” Wes predicted. “That boating accident slowed them down.”
“What’s the name of the guy who died?” Gretchen queried.
“Bellows,” September said, pulling it from her memory. “They’ve been pretty quiet since then.”
“Calm before the storm,” Wes said.
They all thought about the Carrera brothers for a moment, then George said, “Wes and I just got a double homicide.”
“What?” Gretchen demanded. She hated being left out. “Who gave it to you? D’Annibal?”
“The lieutenant thought it was too pedestrian for you,” Wes told her, grinning.
“Bullshit. What is it?”
Wes spread his hands. “Love affair gone bad. Wife shoots the husband, husband dials nine-one-one as wife shoots him again, and then shoots herself. Except the girlfriend was in the apartment about the same time, according to a witness.”
“You’re right. Too pedestrian. It’s either the wife or the girlfriend,” Gretchen said, pretending to yawn.
“You are one messed-up chick.” George shook his head as he swung back to his desk.
“Call me a chick again and I’ll pull your tongue out through your nose.”
George seemed about to retort but apparently thought better of it.
September sat at her desk and pulled out the list of property owners she’d compiled, searching through her own notations. She’d asked those who would talk to her if they remembered any man in his late teens who was connected to the Singletons, but she’d drawn a blank. She’d also asked Fairy about her grandparents and other neighbors to no avail. No one knew anything about the mysterious extra bones in the basement.
“We’ve been at this for a couple of months and it’s gonna take some more time,” she said aloud.
“A lot more time,” Gretchen acknowledged from her own desk.
“Well, good luck,” Wes said. “When you finally solve it, let’s all go to the lodge on Schultz Lake and celebrate.”
“Ye of little faith. That lodge is barely started,” September said.
“We’ll solve it long before the Wrens are done building it,” Gretchen stated with assurance.
Wes smiled. “Well, if things heat up, we can always hit Lacey’s instead.”
* * *
Andi ordered the chicken salad sandwich again, and this time she ate the whole thing while Luke drank a glass of iced tea with extra lemon. He’d grown quiet at The Café, after giving her a lopsided grin when they’d driven into the lot and he saw the name of the place. Now he leaned forward on his elbows and gazed at her directly as she picked up her water glass. “You said you wanted personal protection,” he reminded her.
“I’m kind of rethinking that.”
“You sure?”
Her cell phone bleeped before she could respond, an incoming text. She pulled it from her purse and saw the message was from Carter to both Emma and her: conference room tomorrow at ten. She tucked her phone back in her purse and said, “I have a meeting at work tomorrow before the movers arrive. I’ll call you afterward. I want to sleep on all this. I’m sorry, I just don’t know what I want.”
“All right.”
She shot him a look, but he was determinedly noncommittal. She paid the bill, and as they rose from the table, Luke added, “Tell me about Wren Construction, a little about the business plans. I can figure out what you might need from that.”
“You know we’re building a lodge at the northwest end. The Wrens own a lot of other property around Schultz Lake, and we’ve recently acquired land that used to be an overnight area for junior campers. A kids’ camp. It’s a prime piece at the end of the lake. We’re also in negotiations to buy several other properties and just finalized a piece with ten cabins. The Carreras wanted it, but the owner, Mr. Allencore, who has since died, made the deal with us.”
“Bet that didn’t make the Carreras happy.” Luke hit the remote for his truck and unlocked the doors. He would have opened her door for her, but Andi beat him to it. As they both climbed inside, he asked, “Where are you in the building process?”
“The foundation’s been poured and framing’s started.”
He headed back on the road that would take them to his office and her car. “And Brian threatened sabotage this morning.”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
“If that’s true, most likely they’ll wait until the construction’s further along, really make it hurt you. Better make sure you’ve got good insurance.”
“I’m sure that’s all in place, but I’ll check. Carter’ll love that,” she admitted with a grimace.
“He doesn’t like you checking on him?”
“Not a bit. Since Greg’s death, he’s the point man. Emma’s not around and he thinks of me as the interloper.”
“Why isn’t Emma around?”
Andi hesitated, but then thought, what the hell. Holding back wasn’t going to help anyone. “She’s less reliable.”
“Irresponsible?”
“She drinks.”
“Ahh . . . Do the Carreras know that?”
“Probably.”
They didn’t talk further until he’d pulled in next to her Tucson. Then he leaned an arm on the steering wheel and looked at her. “Okay, I’m going to tell you a few things. You decide what you want to do about them.”
“Okay . . .”
“First off, I think you’re absolutely right. Brian Carrera threatened you and the lodge project. Just as an FYI, there’s no negotiating with the Carreras. They’ll find your weaknesses, which includes your sister-in-law’s drinking and your pregnancy, and exploit them.”
“I told you, they don’t know I’m pregnant.”
“But they will.” He lifted a finger to stop her next objection. “Second, I agree that you need protection. That note was left for you and was likely another threat from them. I don’t like the idea of you living in some out-of-the-way cabin—”
“It’s not that out of the way.”
“—where the security’s already been breached. Which leads me to number three: I would step up security at the construction site, and also, I think you do need a bodyguard.”
“Like I said, I’ll sleep on it.”
“You�
�ve got my cell number. Call me when you decide, or if anything happens. In the meantime, I’m going to go on the offensive with the Carreras.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you know who Ted Bellows was?”
“Was,” she repeated. Then, “Oh. Yes. The guy who died in the boat accident with one of the Carreras.”
“After refusing to sell his lake property to them. Bolchoy talked to Bellows’s widow, but then she clammed up and wouldn’t say anything further. She’s scared, but it’s been a while. I’m going to make a run at her again.”
Andi opened the door, then looked back and met his gaze. “I get the feeling you were just waiting to be unleashed.”
His answer was a quicksilver smile. “Maybe,” he said.
Chapter Six
Andi arrived at Wren Development at twenty to ten and went to her makeshift office. Greg had occupied the largest corner office, but since his death Carter had taken it over. He’d actually asked Emma and Andi if they thought it would be all right, which was a total surprise. At the time Emma had been shaky, grieving, and hungover, and Andi had been dazed and grieving herself, so they’d both shrugged and said it was fine with them.
Though it wasn’t officially hers, because she wasn’t officially an employee, Andi had been given Carter’s old office. Emma was happy enough with the windowless one next to the break room, apparently, though her husband, Ben, had bitched long and loud about the inequity. Carter had told Ben that Emma could have any damn office she wanted, but she chose that one. He’d added meanly that it was next to the break room, where Emma filled up glasses of ice for the bottle she kept in her desk—a lie—but Ben had left in a cold rage. Emma hadn’t given a rat’s ass one way or the other. Even detached as she’d felt, Andi had asked Carter if there was something they should do to help her, but Carter had thrown up his hands and demanded, “What? Rehab? We tried that once and she got pissed off and checked herself out, and Ben won’t lift a finger to help. All he cares about is Wren money.”
He wasn’t completely wrong about Ben, and Emma ignored Andi and Carter’s hints about getting things under control, so the situation remained unresolved.
Andi hadn’t seen Emma in a few weeks; she’d been too involved in her move and trying to figure out why she was feeling so enervated. Now, she headed into the conference room early, already wishing the meeting was over. She had things to do, and since meeting with Luke, she felt a bit like a traitor to the Wrens, though there was no rational cause for that she could think of. Carter just had a way of making her feel like an outsider making outsider choices. She knew he wouldn’t like Luke being involved even peripherally with the Wren family.
And what do you think of Luke?
Her mouth curved, and immediately she dropped the smile from her lips, disconcerted. I feel safe, she told herself. Safer, at any rate. She didn’t know if she needed a full-on bodyguard, but Luke knew the Carreras and what they were capable of all too well, and he wanted, maybe even more than she did, to put them away. That was what counted: for her, for the Wrens, and for her baby.
At 9:55 Carter entered the room and sat down at the head of the table, Andi to his right. He pulled back his sleeve and shot a glance at his Rolex. “Well, here’s a surprise.”
Andi frowned. “You said ten o’clock.”
“Yeah, but you kind of stroll into the company whenever you like. I’m surprised you’re on time.”
“Don’t confuse me with Emma.”
“I assure you, I’m not.”
“I met you at the project and I’m at this meeting now, even though you’ve made it abundantly clear you’d rather I wasn’t invited to the party,” Andi answered coolly.
Carter glowered at her. He clearly didn’t like her attitude. Before Greg’s death she’d been a ghost around the office, and afterward she’d been discombobulated. “You’re invited, okay? Greg invited you.”
He looked a lot like Greg—same eyes, same hair, same build—but Carter was more devious, a card shark with a surprise ace always up his sleeve. “Do you ever wonder about his death?” she asked suddenly, surprising herself.
“What’s to wonder about? He drove off the road at high speed.”
“But he wasn’t under the influence.”
“It was late. Maybe he fell asleep at the wheel.”
Andi let that one go. She wasn’t exactly sure why she’d brought the subject up. She was certain Carter knew Greg had been with Mimi, but they’d never spoken of it.
Now, he asked, “Where are you going with this?”
“Do you think the Carreras could have been involved?”
“In Greg’s accident? No.”
“The Carreras are good at accidents.”
“Yeah, but to what end? The company goes on without Greg. You’re here now. That’s all that’s changed.”
“I disagree. The company’s been thrown into a state of flux. All of us have since Greg’s death.” She shook her head. “We’ve all been changed.”
“I never knew you to be so philosophical, Andi.”
“Other things have changed, too.”
“Like what?”
She thought about the baby. She had to tell them sometime. She’d told Luke, so maybe she was being too melodramatic about secrecy when it came to Greg’s family. They might not like it exactly—adding a new Wren to the nest, so to speak—but Carter would be the child’s uncle.
At that moment one of the double doors flew open and Emma Wren Mueller struggled into the room. Her purse slipped from her shoulder to the crook of her elbow and swung onto the back of one of the chairs. “Oops,” she said.
Like Carter and Greg, she had light brown hair, shoulder-length and a little uncombed today. Her eyes were dark brown, where her brothers’ were blue, and she’d Botoxed her forehead until her painted-on brows barely moved. As she flung herself into the chair opposite Andi’s, to Carter’s left, Carter’s neck turned dark red.
“What?” Emma demanded, looking at her brother. She scrabbled through her purse. “Traffic’s gotten ridigulous . . . ridiculous.” After a few moments she pulled out a tin of Altoids and popped one into her mouth. The peppermint scent couldn’t quite disguise the smell of gin.
“Goddamn it, Em,” Carter growled. “The lodge framing’s going well, in case you cared, but Dick had to let the framing foreman go because of drinking on the job. Now we’re bound to get behind, and look at you.”
“Dick?” Emma asked, which was Andi’s question, too.
“Dick Eggles, our contractor?”
“Oh, Richard,” Emma said, nodding several times. “Can’t he just hire someone else?”
“That’s exactly what he’ll have to do.” Carter was holding on to his patience with an effort. “But it’s one more goddamn delay.” He glanced at Andi and said provocatively, “Maybe we should have just sold out to the Carreras.”
“C’mon, Carter,” Andi said.
At the same time, Emma declared, “Greg would never have allowed that.” Then she hiccupped and dug through her purse for another Altoid.
He lifted his hands. “We all know they’re crooks. They could do some really bad stuff to us, as Andi was just suggesting, and it’s about money, straight up. Money we could use, ’cause whether you two know it or not, we’re asset rich and cash poor around here.”
Emma frowned at Andi. “You think they’d do something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Andi wondered if she should have hung on to the note instead of leaving it in Luke’s safekeeping.
“She’s blaming them for Greg’s death,” Carter said.
“Not true,” Andi jumped in. “I was just worrying aloud.”
“Greg was driving too fast,” Emma said carefully.
Silence fell around the room for a moment. Andi was sorry she’d brought up the idea. All it did was remind them of those last few months, when Andi hadn’t been the only woman in Greg’s life.
“You’re kidding about the Carreras, right?” Andi a
sked Carter.
“Am I? This goddamn loan’s taking forever. We may need to sell something or we’re going to have no money. And I mean none.”
“I thought there were reserves,” Andi said.
“You want to talk to the accountant, be my guest,” he snapped. “I didn’t call this meeting because I thought either of you had anything to contribute. I called it because you need to wake the fuck up!”
“We’re not selling to the Carreras,” Emma stated positively.
“Then let’s hear your ideas on making money,” Carter demanded. “The lottery? Gold buried in the backyard? A genie in a bottle?”
“Don’t be such a dick.”
“Emma and I didn’t know we were in financial trouble,” Andi cut in quickly, worried that Emma might hurl the crystal ashtray in the center of the table at her brother. “But whatever. The Carreras stay out of it.”
“Oh, you get to decide?” His blue eyes were cold.
“Brian Carrera threatened me at my club. Threatened all of us.”
Emma blinked at Andi as if trying to focus, and Carter demanded, “Threatened us? When? What did he say?”
“Yesterday. He said to be sure to tell you both that the Carreras make better friends than enemies, and that accidents happen.”
“Oh my God.” Emma blinked.
“Carrera belongs to your club?” Carter asked.
“He was on the treadmill next to me.”
“Holy shit,” Emma said on another hiccup.
Carter turned on her in a flash of anger. “Pull it together, Emma. I mean it. This is serious, if Andi’s telling the truth.”
“If I’m telling the truth?” Andi could feel her blood pressure spiking, had an image of red liquid shooting up a thermometer. Not good for the baby.
“I just meant—” he began, but Emma ran right over him.
“They’re killers. Maybe they haven’t been caught, but they killed Ted Bellows. We all know it.”
“That was an accident,” Carter snapped.
“Another accident?” Emma asked.
Carter turned his angry gaze on Andi. “So, they killed Ted Bellows and Greg?”