by Nancy Bush
September tried not to let the thought of the cutbacks gnaw at her guts. She was the most recent hire and the youngest detective. Her brother had moved semiperma-nently to the Portland PD, and it had looked like he might be coming back to the Laurelton PD, but now things had changed. Money was tight all over, but Portland had both larger staff needs and more fluid job opportunities. Laurelton was a lot smaller, and people who took jobs with the police department had a tendency to stick around.
September glanced over at the back of George’s head. She liked him. She didn’t want him to lose his job. But if it came to a showdown between them about who was the more industrious employee, she would win hands down. However, should the issue turn on office politics, she really didn’t know which way the dominoes would fall. George had friends in odd places.
“So where are we with the Aurora Lane crowd?” Gretchen asked.
September had tried to tell her about her meeting with Grace Myles two days earlier, but she had listened with only half an ear. Now, however, she was paying attention. George’s heart-to-heart with D’Annibal had raised antennae all around the squad room.
With an effort, September forwent making a smart remark about Gretchen’s lack of interest to date and answered, “I’ve interviewed every current homeowner and called the numbers I have for previous owners. Nobody seems to know anything. I’m just updating my report.”
“The other day you were hot for whatever the Alzheimer’s victim had to say,” Gretchen said.
“You actually heard what I was talking about? I couldn’t tell.”
Gretchen pretended to stifle a yawn. “So what did Grace Myles say?”
“She intimated that Nathan Singleton’s wife, Davinia, was having an affair with someone younger than she was. I was thinking about asking Tynan about it. Maybe this could be our vic.”
“Or maybe not.”
“Or maybe not,” September agreed. “Maybe the affair’s the reason Nathan drove off the road and killed them both. Tynan didn’t go into that when we interviewed him, but there’s a reason the man did what he did.”
“That means Davinia was having an affair with an eighteen-year-old.”
“Maybe younger,” September said. “Davinia died thirteen years ago and forensics has determined the eighteen-year-old male would be about thirty now, if he’d lived. So he died twelve years ago, and Davinia’s been gone thirteen.”
“Meaning Mr. Bones could have been seventeen.”
“Like you said, he might not even be the lover. If there was a lover. All speculation.”
“We don’t even know if it’s a murder,” Gretchen pointed out.
September nodded. This was why Gretchen wasn’t all that interested in the case. Mystery bones in the basement were weird, but not weird enough to intrigue her unless there was foul play involved. In this case, the cause of death had been indeterminable.
“I’d sure like to know why someone buried the body and then dug it up again and put the bones in the Singletons’ basement.”
“No DNA from the bones.”
September shook her head. “Not that the crime lab has been able to recover.”
“You said Grace mentioned a name, but that you thought he was too young.”
She was slightly surprised Gretchen remembered. “Tommy. Grace said Tommy used to mow lawns. She acted like she was a kid, but it’s hard to know what time frame she was thinking of. Any way around it, Grace’s account could be terribly flawed.”
“Bound to be,” her partner agreed.
“I called Mr. Bromward and left a message on his phone, asking if he remembered Tommy. He’s hasn’t called me back, so I’m thinking about just stopping in. He’s one of the few not sick of answering questions.”
“The guy with the cats.”
“The guy with the cats who’s really hard of hearing,” September added. “Probably why he doesn’t answer his phone.”
Gretchen grunted an assent. “Maybe Tommy mowed his lawn, too.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“What about the Asian neighbors?”
“The Lius’ daughter, Anna, has become less and less interested in helping. She’s tired of interpreting. Says her parents don’t know anything. Pretty much everyone I’ve interviewed is fed up with my questions.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Gretchen said, setting her jaw.
As glad as September was to have her partner back on the case, she knew Gretchen’s take-no-prisoners approach could backfire. It had before. “I’ve also got a call into Elias Mamet. His house is the rental two doors down from the Singletons’. He’s been promising me a full list of his renters over the last twenty years, but he hasn’t come through.”
“Give me the number.”
“I will. But . . .”
“What?”
“Try not to piss him off. He’s brusque and impatient and I’ve worked hard to get him on my side.”
“You don’t think I have the finesse to deal with him?”
September looked into Gretchen’s blue cat’s eyes and answered truthfully. “No, I don’t.”
“Then I won’t threaten him with jail if he doesn’t produce the list by Monday.”
“Good idea,” September replied dryly. “I mentioned Tommy to him and he didn’t remember him, but . . .” She flipped through her notebook. “He said I should talk to the Hasseldorns, who moved away about ten years ago. Randall Hasseldorn’s retired, but his wife, Kitsy, is a real estate agent with Sirocco Realty. Mamet acted like Kitsy knew all.”
“Great. Let’s start with her,” Gretchen said.
“After Bromward.”
“Hell no.”
“You just don’t want to revisit all Bromward’s cats.”
“You got that right.”
“Too bad,” September said, unlocking her desk drawer and reaching for her messenger bag. She used to keep it in a locker in the break room, but she was in and out of the station so often, she liked it closer at hand.
Gretchen looked like she was going to argue the point about Bromward, but then her gaze strayed to George and her expression grew thoughtful. With a shrug, she led the way out of the squad room, saying, “Fine. I’ll drive.”
* * *
Andi arrived at the lodge fifteen minutes before the scheduled meeting. She could smell the clean scent of fresh lumber and realized they were adding wings that jutted away from the main building at forty-five-degree angles to both ends of the central structure. A lot more money, she thought.
The echo of hammers reached her as she walked across chunky gravel toward the lodge, stepping carefully around pieces of wood, stacks of shingles, various piles of building supplies, workers’ trucks, and vans. There was a makeshift ramp made out of two-by-six boards that led to an open six-foot-wide gap that was the lodge doorway at this point in the construction. She headed up the sloping planks, glad yesterday’s rain had stopped; she suspected the wood could be slick.
Inside, the foyer’s soaring roof, still just rough framed, rose up two stories. The hammering was sporadic: rhythmic for a while, then not, then ceasing altogether, then starting up again. The muffled whine of a saw sounded from down a hallway. She wasn’t sure where Carter planned to meet, so she stayed just inside the door, aware the lodge was still in the beginning stages. Maybe it would be ready for business by next summer . . . maybe.
She heard a car approach and looked back through the front door opening. It was Carter’s BMW. She watched him climb out and remote lock his car as he walked toward her. He hurried lithely up the planks. “You’re already here,” he said.
“Well, yeah.”
“I guess I’m used to Emma, the perpetual no-show.”
His eyes were bright with some inner excitement and Andi asked, “What?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“You’ve got something on your mind, so . . . what is it?”
“Oh, I’ll wait till Emma gets here.”
“If she gets here,” A
ndi reminded him. “You just said she’s a perpetual no-show.”
“We’ll just wait for a little while, then. What do you think of the place?” He gazed up at the ceiling and around, a slight smile playing on his lips. He was like a proud papa, Andi realized.
“It’s coming along. I see the wings are going on. I thought that was going to be our second phase.”
“It was. But you know how it goes . . . it’s cheaper to get the work done now, while all the subcontractors are here.”
“Will our loan cover it all?”
“Not all of it,” he admitted. “We have to get some creative financing, but I’ve got it handled.”
“You’re making me nervous, Carter.”
“No need to be.” His smile was indulgent, as if she were a bright but pesky child, and it set Andi’s radar on high alert.
“What are you planning, Carter?”
“We have Allencore’s ten cabins and the junior camp.”
“Which we’re keeping as a camp,” she reminded him.
“Possibly,” he said, moving toward the front opening so he could see Emma arrive.
“It was agreed that we would keep the kids’ camp.”
“I know. But it’s between our lodge and the Allencore cabins. We can make it part of the plan and then that whole northeast side can be part of the resort.”
“We have the northwest side.”
“It’s just not that much property. We’re going to be fighting boundaries. Well, unless we get people to sell to us.”
“Why don’t we strong-arm them? That’s what the Carreras would do,” Andi suggested.
“You really go to the worse-case scenario,” he said, his voice a tsk-tsk. “What’s wrong with making an offer? They can refuse it. But let’s face it: We’ve got property on the east side of the lodge. Let’s make use of it, and then we can ask people to sell on the west side, and if they do, great, and if they don’t, we’re still expanding.”
“We’ve barely got going. Let’s not change our plans yet.”
“We do have to make some adjustments,” he admitted. “Financially speaking. The two wings have tapped out our loan.”
“Then we should have waited.” She was becoming annoyed and slightly alarmed. Carter loved to forget that she and Emma had voting rights. “Didn’t we just get out of financial trouble?”
“We’re not going back into financial trouble. I have a plan. I told you.”
“Well, let’s hear it.”
“Soon.”
After that, silence fell between them. Carter never failed to get under her skin. He was just too sure of himself, and she wasn’t convinced he made good choices.
“I got a call from Scott Quade,” he said after a time.
Andi’s brows lifted in surprise. Now he deigned to tell her? It would have been nice to be informed. “What did he say?”
“He wants money. Same as always. He’s angling for a settlement. Said he’d get his sister to abort and we could—”
“Hell no. She’s six months! At least I think. There’s no abortion.”
“I know what you just went through, Andi. I know how you feel.”
“You don’t have a clue!”
“But don’t let your personal feelings—”
“No, Carter. End of subject. Mimi wants Greg’s baby. She won’t go for it, and it’s way too late anyway.”
Andi’s clipped tone brought Carter’s lips into a thin line. “I’m just telling you what he said. It’s all part of a goddamn scam, if you ask me. Quade’s behind the whole thing and Mimi’s a pawn. I don’t know what their game is yet, but I’ll find out eventually.”
“No abortion,” she stated tautly.
He waved a hand at her, annoyed. They both heard tires crunch on the rough gravel and Andi moved closer to him to look out the doorway to the approaching vehicle. A black Cadillac Escalade was pulling up beside Andi’s Tuscan. “That’s not Emma,” she said.
Carter slid her his cat-and-cream smile. “No.”
Andi watched one good-looking, dark-haired man climb from the cab, while another got out of the passenger side at the same moment. Two identical bookends. “Oh ... God ... shit.” The Carrera brothers in the flesh. She turned toward Carter in numb shock. “What are they doing here?” she squeaked out, only to see the sheepish look on his face. “What have you done?”
“I just invited them to have a talk with us. Emma should be here. Goddamn her. This is important.”
“You son of a bitch.”
Carter flushed a dark red. “Careful with the name-calling, Andi.”
“Emma will never go for this and neither will I.” She scrambled inside her purse with one hand, damn near hyperventilating. Her fingers closed on her cell phone and she yanked it out.
“Who’re you calling?” he demanded.
“Luke Denton. It looks like I need protection.”
* * *
Luke swept up his cell phone from where he’d left it in his cup holder, risking a ticket when he saw it was Andi. He was driving to his office and a meeting with Dallas. His brother had asked him to do some work for him, which was kind of a surprise. Dallas was a defense attorney, but to date he hadn’t seemed to believe his younger brother was really going to stay being a private investigator. He’d nudged Luke to write after he’d quit the department, but he hadn’t hired him as a PI until Luke had flat out told him the writing gig was a no-go.
“Hey, there,” he greeted her warmly.
“I’m at the lodge with Carter,” she clipped out. “The Carrera brothers just drove up. Carter invited them to a meeting.”
Luke went cold. “I’ll be right there.”
“Good. I see Emma’s just driving up.” Then, “Hurry,” and she was gone.
Luke made an illegal U-turn and headed toward Schultz Lake and the Wrens’ lodge. He brought up Dallas’s number on his cell and put it on speaker so he wouldn’t have to hold the phone to his ear.
“I’m on my way,” Dallas answered, but Luke cut him off.
“Change of plans. Gonna have to reschedule.”
“I’m halfway to your office.”
“This is important, Dal.”
“Okay,” he said, clearly mystified. “Call me.”
“Will do.”
* * *
Andi stood her ground, though, she felt like running as the two brothers approached. One was dressed in a black crew-neck shirt with a black leather jacket and slacks and the other wore jeans, a light gray sweater, and a gray jacket. She couldn’t tell them apart and her heart was pounding so hard it made it difficult to think. She wanted to kill Carter.
Emma’s car pulled in at that moment, but it was Ben who climbed out of the driver’s seat. For once Andi was glad to see him. He saw the brothers and started walking rapidly their way. There was no sign of Emma.
“We meet again,” the one in jeans greeted her with a smarmy smile. Brian, she realized. She dragged her gaze from him to the man in black and saw the scar near his left temple. It was faint now, but still a telltale mark to be able to use to tell them apart, and it looked like it must have been quite a doozy of an injury.
Carter said, “I was just telling Andi about our plans for expansion.”
“Our plans?” Andi’s voice was brittle. “Who are we?”
Brian said easily, “I told you we’d be better friends than enemies. Your brother-in-law agrees.”
“My brother-in-law doesn’t have complete say-so.” Andi could feel her insides quiver, but she was bound and determined not to let it show on the outside.
“That’s why we’re meeting today,” Carter said pleasantly, but Andi could tell he was totally infuriated. As Ben clomped up the planks, Carter asked, “Where’s Emma?”
“She couldn’t make it.”
“Couldn’t make it,” Carter repeated. Andi could tell he was holding himself back with an effort.
“She’s not feeling well.”
Read that to mean she’s drunk or hungover.<
br />
Carter flushed, getting the message loud and clear as well. “Then she’s just nullified her vote,” he said, swinging his attention back to the brothers. “Yes, we’re doing business with you. We need the money, and we’re all interested in developing the lake.”
“And we have very different views on how that should be done.” Andi stared at Carter in disbelief. They hadn’t signed anything. There was no way she and Emma would agree and he knew it.
Blake Carrera spoke up. “Is there a problem?” he asked Andi.
“More than one,” she answered.
He turned to Carter. “You said you could handle the women.”
“We haven’t had a formal meeting yet,” Carter sidestepped.
“Emma should be okay soon,” Ben put in a trifle anxiously.
Andi took exception to Blake Carrera’s condescending tone and comment. She decided to try something, though it took all her courage. “This little bird is involved in all Wren Development business” she stated firmly.
She waited, but neither brother reacted to her words.
Then Blake said, “Well, little bird, maybe you should start making some decisions that will actually help your company.”
“We’ve got some time,” Brian put in, clearly trying to cool off his hard-nosed brother. “We’re starting our business relationship today.”
“There is no business relationship.” Andi was clear on that.
“We want to help you keep your project moving,” Brian kept going. “Time’s money, and we’re here to help.”
Andi snorted, but her insides were quivering with fear. Oh sure. She wanted to steal a look at the time on her cell phone, find out how long it had been since she’d spoken to Luke, but she refrained. All her attention needed to be on the Carreras. “We’re not ready to make any commitment to a partnership of any kind. I’m sorry if you were misinformed.”