Scared To Death (Live to Tell #2)(44)

“What are you doing home at this time of day, Mr. Brett?” she asks cheerfully as he steps out. She always calls him Mr. Brett, in a cutesy, singsong voice. Once, she asked if that bothered him. It probably shouldn’t, but it does. He told her it didn’t, of course. Meg means well, as Elsa likes to say.

“I’m actually on my way to the office, but I had to stop home to shower and change first.”

“Really? I saw that you were home a little while ago. But then you went out again, with luggage.”

He sighs inwardly.

“And you weren’t here overnight.”

“No. Not overnight,” he tells her, hoping she can’t see the tension in his jaw. All he wants to do is go into the house, draw the shades, and wait for something else to happen.

But that’s not an option. His secretary called his cell phone a few minutes ago as he was driving back from the station. When it rang, he snatched it up, assuming it was Mike, who hadn’t answered when Brett called him.

“Lew’s looking for you,” Cindy said. “What should I tell him?”

“Remind him that I called in earlier—I said I’ll be in at noon.” He’d lied about having to accompany Renny to a doctor’s appointment this morning.

“He knows…he said to tell you it’s past noon and they already rescheduled the conference call twice. Now it’s at one. You need to get here, Brett.”

He bites back the urge to tell Cindy that he’s not coming in at all. That might just push Lew over the edge. Anyway, maybe it’s better to go into the office, do the conference call, and tie up some loose ends in case he really does have to take some time off.

“Tell Lew I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Really?”

“Twenty.”

There’s no way, he acknowledges now, glancing at his watch. Maybe he can get there within the half hour, though, if he hurries.

“I noticed that the house was dark all night,” Meg is saying. “You guys always leave the outside lights on when you’re not going to be home. And you know, Elsa didn’t even mention that you were all going someplace when I saw her and Renny outside yesterday.”

Wow. That Meg really doesn’t miss a trick.

“It was a last-minute thing,” he tells her, and nods toward her muddy shovel, needing to change the subject. “So what are you up to? Burying dead bodies in the petunia patch?”

She laughs like that’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “No! I just dug a new bed out back. The ground is nice and soft from all the rain. I’m moving my herb garden. Like I was telling your wife, someone trampled it.”

“Really? Because—” He thinks better of saying anything about the footprints in their own yard. Why even drag her into it?

Because she sees everything, he reminds himself, so maybe she saw…something. If there was something to see.

“Because…what?” she prompts Brett.

“Ah, I was wondering whether you’ve noticed anyone hanging around our yard when we’re not home.”

“Like who?”

“I don’t know…anyone who shouldn’t be here, I guess.”

“Why? Did something happen?”

Brett weighs how much to admit, and decides on as little as possible. “There were some footprints in our yard, and we thought maybe kids were cutting through. If anyone got hurt on our property, we’d be looking at a lawsuit, so…”

“You mean my kids? Because they’re not even around right now. They’re with their father this week, and—”

“No, that’s not what I—”

“—believe me, if I ever caught them sneaking around in your yard, I’d have their keisters in a sling.”

Brett murmurs an appropriate reply, almost relieved he’s put her on the defensive regarding her kids, rather than have her start asking questions he’d rather not answer. “Well, I’ll let you get back to moving your herb garden,” he tells Meg.

“Oh, I’m finished for today. I’ll dig up the plants over the weekend. The ones that didn’t get crushed, anyway.”

“Yeah? Where are they now?” he asks as casually as possible.

“Right over there.” She points to a small garden plot along the dividing line between their two yards—almost directly adjacent to Renny’s bedroom window.

Brett nods thoughtfully. “Well, if you do see anyone around, let me know.”

“And you do the same, there, Mr. Brett.”

“Believe me, I will.”



Glenhaven Park is one of those picture-perfect, leafy suburban towns that look like the set of a television drama series. Even a lifelong city girl like Marin is wistful, driving past big old houses with front porches and hanging geraniums, set back along brick-paved streets that are shiny from this morning’s rain.

What would it be like to live here?

For a brief, deluded moment, she imagines that things would be different now if she and Garvey had chosen a simple, low-key life here, because nothing bad could ever happen in a place like this.

Oh, come on. Who are you kidding?

Look at what happened to Lauren here.

Anyway, Garvey is who he is. He would have been a monster anywhere. Married to him, no matter where she lived, her life would have eventually been disastrous.