The Killing Game (11 page)

“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 asked 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?”

“All I know is that Brian Carrera threatened me,
us
, and I believe we need to protect ourselves,” Andi said. “What kind of security do we have at the lodge? What about ourselves? My cabin was broken into and somebody put a note on one of the beds that’s still there. It said,
Little birds need to fly.
And I think the Carreras put it there.”

“What?” Carter asked.

“What!” Emma practically shrieked at the same moment.

“Must be a play on our last name. Whatever. I’ve decided to be proactive. Yesterday I hired Luke Denton to help investigate the Carreras, pick up where his partner left off, at least legally, and bring them down. He also offered me personal protection.”

“Who?” Emma asked, looking dazed.

“That detective?” Carter asked. “The guy who falsified evidence . . . uh, Boucher’s . . . partner?”

“Bolchoy. And yes, Luke worked homicide with him at the Portland PD.”

“
Luke?
” Carter repeated.

“Yes, Luke,” Andi said evenly.

“What kind of personal protection?” he questioned, and Andi resented the insinuation in his tone.

“Any kind I need,” she answered.

“God, I need a drink,” Emma expelled.

“You’re already drunk. And it’s barely ten,” he railed at her. “Where’s Ben? Call him and have him pick you up.”

“Fuck you!” Emma shot to her feet, dropping her purse, which spilled its contents all over the floor. She bent down to pick up the items and half fell out of her chair. In a fury she slammed items back into her purse, spitting mad. “You . . . can go to
hell
, you fucking, smirking bastard!
Hell!
Along with the fucking Carrera brothers!”

She flounced out of the room, her exit slightly ruined when she caught the strap of her purse on the door handle. She practically ripped it in two as she yanked it free.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Carter growled, “You should have told me about all this before.”

“I’ve told you now.”

He slammed a fist on the table. “No wonder he was smirking, the shit.”

“What are you talking about?”

Carter was coldly angry. “The county planner wasn’t the only meeting I had yesterday. I met Blake Carrera at Lacey’s and we had what I thought was a meeting of the minds. I’m having papers drawn up to sell them the Allencore cabins as soon as title clears.”

“You can’t!” Andi flared.

“We need money.”

“You didn’t even check with me and Emma? You can’t do that!”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. I still need both of your signatures. You think I wanted to have this meeting and have to beg and coerce you guys into signing? Jesus H. Christ. I’ll tell ya, Emma’s not the only one who needs a drink!”

He slammed out after Emma and Andi got up from her chair and stalked to the window, breathing hard. She was infuriated.

Get this out of your head. This isn’t helping. Maybe Carter’s right and they needed money, but selling to the Carreras? Over her dead body!

She flicked a look out the window and saw a man walking across the front parking lot four stories below. Her heart clutched. It sure as hell looked like one of the Carreras.

Fear wormed through her insides. No . . . no . . . it wasn’t . . . was it? No. She watched as the man got into a black sedan and turned out of the lot.

Then she grabbed up her cell phone and punched in Luke’s cell number.

* * *

“. . . barely a slap on the wrist,” Iris moaned. “Now there’s no record of those forged confessions? Jesus, Luke. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you did it for him. How can Bolchoy get off scot-free?”

“He lost his job,” Luke reminded her. He was holding the cell phone away from his ear because when she was upset Iris’s voice could damn near shatter glass. He heard the beep of an incoming call and said, “I’ve got another call.”

“He said he forged those documents and now they’re missing. Who do you think did it? Amberson?”

“Opal would never compromise a case. Doesn’t matter if it was Bolchoy or someone else.”

“Would she for you?”

“
No.
I gotta go.”

“Well, that confession just didn’t walk out of the department.”

“There was no confession. Bolchoy lied about there being one. Corkland knows that and so do you.” Luke hoped that was true.

“There was a forged paper!”

“Come on, Iris. We’ve been playing this game for months. It’s over. Bolchoy’s out of the department. No one there wants him back in, and I don’t think the union’s looking out for him either. Being outside of it all is hell for him.”

“Playing what game,” she said in a deadly voice.

“None of us have ever believed the Carreras confessed to coercion or whatever else Bolchoy put in that document.”

“You admit Bolchoy did it.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But it would be just like him to draw up a fake document, wave it in front of their faces, and tell them he was going to use their forged signatures to convict them.”

“That’s coercion.”

“Whatever it is, it lost him his job. His identity. I’m just glad your boss was smart enough not to take this any further.”

“You still think Bolchoy’s a badass, yet he’s no better than the Carreras,” she fumed.

“He’s a whole lot better than the Carreras,” Luke stated flatly, his temper spiking. He switched over to his other call, but by then they were gone. Realizing it was Andi’s number, he felt a jolt of awareness that made him think,
Huh
. He hadn’t plugged her into his contacts list yet, but the digits were fresh in his mind. She hadn’t left a message, so he called her back, and this time he got her voice mail. “Hey, I’m here,” he said. “Sorry I missed your call. I’m going to try to see Bolchoy today. I’ve got a call in to Peg Bellows, but I haven’t heard from her yet. Take care not to move boxes yourself.” He paused, then added, “Call me back.”

* * *

The movers arrived at one and started loading up their truck with Andi’s furniture. She thought she’d be happy to begin emptying the house, but she was tired and uneasy after seeing, maybe, one of the Carreras in the Wren Development parking lot. And even if it wasn’t either Blake or Brian, Andi recognized how threatened she’d felt.

Though she hadn’t lifted anything heavier than her purse, her back and her head ached a bit. She carried a bottle of water around with her as she helped direct which pieces to haul out. The van was going to her storage unit first with most everything but her bed, one small dresser and a nightstand, a love seat and two occasional chairs that shared an ottoman. She was going to have to purchase a smaller table; the dining table she and Greg owned was too large for the cabin.

It took two hours for them to load and head to the storage unit. Andi hadn’t called Luke back because she’d felt embarrassed about jumping to conclusions and phoning him with her fears. She didn’t want him to think she was half-hysterical, crying wolf at every opportunity. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure she’d let her fears take over.

Don’t let your pride make you stupid, though.

“No,” she said aloud, picking up her cell and listening to Luke’s voice-mail message before returning his call. He answered on the second ring, though he sounded distracted. “How’s it going?” he asked.

“Okay. I guess. But . . . oh, damn. Maybe I shouldn’t have called. Do I seem kind of panicked? Sorry. It’s just that . . . I thought I saw one of the Carreras in the Wren parking lot, but I could be slightly paranoid. Now I’m not so sure.”

“You aren’t panicked. You have a right to worry.”

“So, you haven’t heard back from Ted Bellows’s widow?”

“Not yet. One of the reasons I want to check with Bolchoy is that he was working with her. I don’t know how much help she was. I think there may have been some medical problem. Ray got frustrated, and well, we know the rest of that.”

She wanted to ask him if he would come by the house afterward. The desire to have him with her was almost overwhelming. She kept that thought to herself and instead said, “I’ll be at the cabin tomorrow, when the movers take over the pieces that belong there. I hope the lock’s fixed.”

“It is. I went to take a look at it, and it was taken care of.”

“You went to the cabin?”

“I said I would. Sorry it took till today.”

“I’m just happy it’s fixed. What did you think of the place?” she asked tentatively.

“It’s great. Nice location on the lake. It’s not that far from the Bellows place. They’re both on that southwest side.”

“Mrs. Bellows still owns the cabin? I thought they were coerced out of it.”

“After Ted’s death, the Carreras backed off.”

“For good?”

“There is no ‘for good’ with them.”

“I suppose that would be too much to hope for.”

“I’d say the Carreras are just biding their time. My guess is they’ve been distracted by your family’s recent acquisitions.” There was a pause in their conversation, then he asked, “What time’re you going to be at the cabin tomorrow? I’ll come on by.”

“Late afternoon, probably.”

“Unless you’d like me to stop by the house tonight?”

Andi realized he was picking up on her nervousness and said, “Tomorrow’ll be great. Oh, and I told my brother- and sister-in-law that I’d hired you.”