The Killing Game(16)

Luke left the courthouse and sneaked around the crowd to avoid the Kirby woman, though she spotted him and tried to chase him down. He ran through a McDonald’s drive-through on his way back to the office and picked up a coffee with cream. His headache was a dull throb, barely discernible. The joy over Bolchoy’s victory made everything else seem less of a problem.

Of course his old partner was still out of a job. Maybe the union would get him back in, but the captain had never liked him and the feeling was mutual. Bolchoy was nearing retirement, but he didn’t seem any too anxious to give up the work he loved. If he wanted his job back, Luke hoped he would get it, though he thought it was unlikely.

Luke wheeled into the parking lot at 11:19. His 11:30 appointment was with Helena Garcia, a skittish woman who felt her husband, Carlos, a Colombian native who had become a naturalized citizen, was planning to kidnap their young daughter and take her back to his home country. The fact that said husband was a pretty happy guy who’d started his own landscaping company after working years for another firm and, from what Luke had discovered, was gaining clients all the time, didn’t speak to her fears very well. Luke had tried to tell her as much, but she’d just gotten mad at him, and then, for a moment, when she’d snatched up his stapler and drawn her arm back as if it to hurl it at him, he’d wondered if maybe she was the unstable one and was projecting her own plans to possibly kidnap their child on Carlos.

She’d managed to put the stapler down, but it had taken her a while. Too long, in Luke’s biased opinion. He’d carefully tried to counsel her. “Your husband doesn’t seem to have any reason to leave the country. I talked to a couple of his clients. Called them up and asked what they thought of his work, and all I got back were glowing reports.”

“It’s all a fake!” Helena was a redhead with a temperament to match.

“I picked the clients at random. I could go down the list and call every name you gave me. Maybe there’s somebody who doesn’t like him, but . . .” He’d trailed off, leaving her to hopefully see the waste of time ahead of him.

But she hadn’t. “I have to take Emily away. It’s the only way to keep her safe.”

“Now, Helena, that’s a bad idea.”

He’d further explained that she would be breaking the law, not Carlos, and he’d thought he’d gotten through to her. Then, yesterday, she’d called up screaming. Carlos had apparently picked up Emily from day care without telling Helena, and when she’d gone to collect her, Emily wasn’t there. She’d immediately called Luke on his cell phone, read him the riot act up one side and down the other. Then she’d returned home to find her husband’s truck in the driveway and Carlos and Emily inside the house sharing bowls of ice cream.

She’d called Luke back to tell him, but she hadn’t apologized for her rant. Now Helena was due to meet him at his office and sure enough, almost on the dot, he saw the silhouette of a woman outside the obscured glass of his office door. He expected her to just bust in, as she was wont to do, but this time she hesitated. Maybe she’d thought over her behavior after all. Curious, Luke got up to open the door, but then the handle twisted and the woman entered, along with a blast of blinding, hot September air that damn near broiled him where he stood. He had to lift a hand to shade his eyes in order to see her.

His visitor wasn’t Helena. This woman’s hair was soft brown and long, swept into a loose ponytail at her nape, held by a dull silver clip. Her eyes were green with thick, dark lashes, a certain wariness lurking in their depths, and her nose was straight and a trifle pointy in a way he kind of liked. Her mouth could have been kissable except for the way it was currently drawn into a thin line of disapproval or worry. She was medium height, with a taut body that looked as if she spent time at the gym, but just now she wore lightweight tan pants and a cream-colored blouse. She held a laptop bag in one hand that seemed to be her purse.

“Lucas Denton?” she asked.

It was the hottest day of the year when she strolled into his office, as cool as cherry ice cream.

The line ran through his mind unsolicited. He was torn between laughter and annoyance. Damn you, Dallas. He thrust out a hand. “It’s Luke.”

She held on to the doorknob a tad too long, as if she were about to make an about-face and leave. It took her a moment to shake his hand, but the handshake was firm.

“Andrea Wren. And it’s Andi.”

“Wren,” Luke repeated. He reached around her and shut the door, cutting the heat and blinding sunshine.

“Sorry,” she apologized.

“No problem.”

“Yes, I’m from those Wrens,” she admitted as Luke walked back behind his desk. He gestured to his client chairs and she chose one, smoothed the back of her skirt, and settled herself on the edge.

“I’m going to guess this has something to do with the Carrera brothers.”

She tried to smile but it didn’t reach her lips. “This morning I was approached by Brian Carrera. Threatened by him, actually. I know your story, and I wondered if you would help me find a way to put the Carrera brothers away for good. Legally.”

Luke was trying to place her. Not the sister. That woman was a bit shorter and heavier. “You’re Gregory Wren’s widow?”

“Yes.”

“How were you threatened?”