The Killing Game(101)

On the television, Pauline Kirby’s face appeared. The local reporter was outside, standing near a huge river, the sky as leaden as the gray depths of the water.

Luke said, “I want to talk to the police. Detective Rafferty, not Thompkins. I’ve dealt with his type a lot of times. They don’t like being pushed and they become intractable. Until it’s his idea that Trini’s death was a homicide, he’ll drag his feet. And I don’t know if he’ll get there in time. We need some momentum on this case. If the bird messages involve Trini, we gotta move. Find out who’s doing this before something else happens.”

“Something to me, you mean.”

“Just because I don’t think the Carreras are behind the notes doesn’t mean I’m forgetting about them. Blake scared Emma. He thought he could get her to do what he wanted, but she ran from him. I want to know why she’s so damned sure the Carerras were behind your husband’s death. Is that just fear talking, or did Blake say or do something that convinced her the Carreras are killers?”

“Do you think Scott’s behind the notes?”

“Or Mimi, because they’re directed at you.”

Andi shook her head slowly. “I don’t think she’s faking how undone she is. It’s too calculating.”

He nodded but said, “I just don’t want to be blindsided.”

Andi flicked a glance at the television, where Pauline stood near the water’s edge . . . some lake?

“It’s the timing of everything that bothers me. At the time of Greg’s accident, Wren Development had been okayed on the lodge, and that pissed off the Carreras. We already know they wanted the land. So maybe they decided to retaliate.”

On the television Pauline was droning on, her hair caught by a strong wind. “What do you mean? By killing Greg?”

“Greg’s death threw you all into chaos. Everyone involved was upset. If Carter hadn’t kept pushing, the project might have failed because Emma has own problems and you were lost in grief.”

“I was a walking zombie,” she admitted.

“That’s the kind of thing the Carreras do,” Luke said grimly.

“So what happened to Trini? I’ll never believe she just didn’t read the label on that energy bar.”

Luke’s attention was on the TV, where a body bag was being loaded into an ambulance. Pauline was staring directly into the camera’s eye, saying, “. . . Police refuse to ID the woman until next of kin is notified, but we’ve learned that a woman from the Gresham area is missing. Christine Tern Brandewaite. She goes by the name Christine Tern. She worked late last night but didn’t show up this morning.”

“We need to find the boyfriend,” Luke said, his eyes glued to the screen. She realized he wasn’t really listening to Andi anymore.

“What is it?” Andi asked, but Luke didn’t answer, so she tuned into the program to see what had riveted his attention.

A bird wheeled over Pauline Kirby’s ravaged hair, crying out. “This is a possible homicide because we have confirmed the victim was tased several times,” Pauline was saying. “She may have been unconscious or unable to save herself when she went into the water. If anyone has any information on Christine Tern, please call the police or our station.”

“Tern . . .” Luke said, shaking his head as if to remove dust.

“You know her?” Andi said, her heart somersaulting uncomfortably.

“I don’t know how she spells it, but a tern is a seabird.”

“Oh God.” Andi stared at the television.

“It makes no sense,” Luke said. Then he was in motion.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m calling Detective Rafferty.”





Chapter Twenty-Three



“Where’ve you been?” Gretchen asked September as soon as she returned to the squad room.

“I was in Hood River, following up on the Pattens. The renters whose son had the addiction problem.”

“I know who they are, but what about the body in the quarry?” Gretchen demanded. “George said you were working on that one.”

September shot a look at George. He was riding his chair, still engrossed in whatever he saw on his computer screen. “It’s the Sheriff’s Department’s case. I just followed up for them at Sirocco Realty.”

“Where you and I went last weekend,” she pointed out. “The body at the bottom of the quarry is their receptionist.”

“We were working an entirely different case.”

“Were we?”

“Yes. And I tried calling you yesterday,” September said, knowing where this was going. “I was just helping out the Sheriff’s Department.” She brought Gretchen up to speed, telling her about Tracy’s hidden box of what they believed to be keys, and how Realtor Edie Tindel believed Tracy had been using the keys to gain access to clients’ houses. She finished with, “But that one’s out of our hands. You want to talk new cases, George is the man to talk to.”

“I told you you could have that case,” George reminded her coolly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, and I’m making traction on the Aurora Lane case,” September snapped back.

Gretchen ignored September and turned to George. “What’s your case?” she asked him, which really pissed September off.