The Killing Game(17)



“I was at the gym and he was on the treadmill next to mine. Your . . . ex-partner’s case came up on the TV and you were interviewed.”

“Ah.” Luke made a face.

“Brian started talking to me, and I realized who he was. He said something to the effect that it would be better if we all got along. How the Carreras were good friends and bad enemies.”

“Well, that’s definitely true.”

“I don’t want to go to the police. With this lawsuit against your partner, it seems like they’re all just covering their . . . covering for themselves.”

“They are covering their asses,” he agreed. “But they also do their jobs. The Carreras don’t play nice. You’re right to be concerned.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

He noticed how flawless her skin was. “Did Carrera say or do anything else?”

“He told me that I need to make sure my brother-and sister-in-law understand that part, about being better friends than enemies.”

“I’d like nothing more than to put the Carrera brothers away for the rest of their natural lives,” he stated flatly.

That netted him her first real smile. She’d set the bag beside her chair, but now she reached into it and gingerly pulled out a white letter-sized envelope with ANDREA printed on the front. She carefully unfolded the paper from it and slid it across his desk.

Written in block print was: Little birds need to fly.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“I just bought a cabin on Schultz Lake and last night this was waiting for me, on the bed. This morning Brian Carrera was on the treadmill next to me.”

“You think he left it for you?”

“I’ve never had any contact with him before, so why is he targeting me? How did he know about my cabin? But I don’t know who else would have left the note. It feels like a threat. I just . . .” She trailed off. Luke tried to hand the note back to her, but she shook her head. “Keep it.”

He stared down at the message. “It’s a play on your last name.”

“The lock on the cabin’s front door was broken, so anyone could have wandered in. Or maybe they broke in. I don’t know. I called my real estate agent and she was going to send someone out to repair it.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to find out who sent me the note. If it was the Carreras, I want to stop them, make sure they can’t get away with threatening me, or any one of us.”

“But no police.”

“No police.” Her green gaze was steady, but he sensed the tension coiled within her. “I don’t know what the range of your services is, but I may also need protection.”

“Personal protection?”

She shifted in her seat. “I have . . .” She seemed uncertain how to continue. He waited, knowing sometimes silence worked better than questions. “I have an issue I learned about yesterday that I’m still working out.”

“What kind of issue?”

She was silent so long he thought she might not answer him. Then she drew in a breath and expelled it in a rush. “I’m . . . pregnant,” she blurted out. “About three months. It’s my husband’s. I’m still adjusting to the news, and I really don’t know what to do about the Carreras, but I want to feel safe. I want my baby to be safe.”

As Lucas absorbed that information, the smell of eastern spices drifted to his nose. It apparently reached hers, too, because she turned toward the aroma like a bloodhound with a scent.

“Any chance you and the baby might like some Thai-ish food?” he asked, hooking a thumb toward the wall that separated his office from the restaurant.

“Thai-ish?”

“Asian fusion.”

She relaxed a bit for the first time. “The baby and I would love it.”





Chapter Four



They headed out together and he was locking the door to his office when he remembered Helena. She was late, not the first time she’d forgotten the time or been a no-show. Still ...

“Go on in and get out of the heat. I gotta make a call.”

“No, I’ll wait.”

“Okay, but ...” He trailed off as he looked across the front lot and saw Helena slam the door on her Ford Escape. She saw him, too, and barreled his way. “I had a client scheduled for eleven-thirty,” he explained to Andi. “I thought you were her, but there she is now.”

Andi looked past him toward Helena, whose red hair was flying out behind her like a cape as she stalked toward Lucas. “Hmm. I’ll get that table,” Andi said and wisely headed inside.

Helena flicked a glance at Andi’s retreating back as she approached Luke. “Who was that?”

“Someone I’m meeting for lunch. You were late.”

“Barely. Carlos wants full custody of Emily and it’s your fault!”

“Whoa ... whoa ... How is it my fault? And since when are you getting a divorce?”

“Since I filed papers last week. Now, all of a sudden, he wants to be a daddy, and he’s never been there for her!”

That was patently untrue, but Luke knew better than to say so. He guided Helena back to his office and hustled her inside. “Make it quick,” he told her.

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