The Killing Game(34)

He sprang up to the two steps to the front door, knocked loudly, and waited. Peg Bellows wouldn’t answer his phone message, but it might be harder to ignore him on her porch. He noticed the two window boxes with pink, purple, and yellow petunias bobbing their heads in the breeze. She’d put some time, effort, and money into the place, that was for certain. Maybe as a nose-thumbing to the Carreras? It was her property and she wasn’t selling.

But Bolchoy had intimated that she’d been swayed by the good-looking brothers. Maybe she’d had a change of opinion after Ted’s death. It sure looked like it.

He knocked again and waited, then moved to the front windows, peering inside. The place was clean and decorated with a more modern feel than the rustic furniture he’d expected. Was he remembering Bolchoy’s pictures, or was it merely his own expectation? Either way, this decor smelled like money . . . but if she’d sold out to the Carreras they would’ve razed the place in preparation for buying more and more land. Like the Wrens, they planned bigger, though the Wren’s lodge was bound to be more family friendly than whatever the Carreras would come up with.

He knocked a third time, pretty sure no one was around. He was turning to leave when he heard the hum of a loud engine approaching. He waited, and a truck appeared pulling a small trailer with landscaping equipment. A man jumped down and looked over at Luke inquiringly.

“Peg Bellows isn’t home?” he asked the man.

“Nah.”

“I’ve been calling her and there’s been no answer.” Luke walked toward him. “You do the landscaping around here?”

“Yep.”

“You have a card? I have a friend who bought a cabin just down the way. She could use some help.”

He squinted at Luke. “Name’s on the truck.”

Luke had seen that he was Kessler Landscaping. “Saw that, but there’s no phone number. You’re Kessler, then?”

“Art Kessler.”

“Luke Denton.” He stuck out his hand, and the older man hesitated briefly before extending his own.

“I’m looking into Peg’s husband’s death,” Luke told him as Kessler dug in a couple of pockets, apparently searching for a business card. “Did you know Ted?”

“Twenty-five years.”

“Ah . . . well, I’m following up. Someone’s gotta make sure justice was really served.” He knew how pompous he sounded, but he wanted Kessler on his side.

The older man squinted up at the sun. “I gotta get workin’.”

“You don’t know when Peg’ll be back?”

“If you was really workin’ for her, you’d know where she was.”

“I’ve reopened the case.” Luke wasn’t going to back down. “I don’t think Ted’s death was an accident, and I think the Carrera boys were at fault.”

“You a cop?”

“Was. Worked on this case a bit. Now I’m doing it on my own.”

“What’s your stake in this?”

“I don’t like killers escaping justice. That’s all.”

The older man considered for a moment, then said, “She’s away. Won’t be back till sometime next month. I’m keeping an eye on the place while she’s gone.”

“Do you know where?”

His answer was a shrug.

“Okay.” Luke nodded. “I’ll have to catch her when she’s back.”

“You really think you can put them boys away?”

“I’m sure as hell gonna give it the old college try,” he answered grimly.

“Good luck to you, son.” Kessler’s lips turned up in what Luke thought might be a smile, but then he headed back to his equipment.

Luke climbed into his own truck and drove back down the lane to the road. Scratch Peg Bellows for now. If he was going to bring the Carreras to justice, he was going to have to go back to the beginning. He should’ve asked Bolchoy if he’d made copies of the department file on the Carreras, something he was known to do even though it was frowned upon.

He headed back to his office. Saturday was as good a time as any to catch up on reports and filing, and it was a great way to while away the hours until Andi was at her cabin.

*

The day was long and hot and Andi had banded her hair back and dressed in jeans and a sleeveless blouse. Though she wasn’t doing any of the heavy lifting, she was emptying boxes and putting things away. And she felt like shit. Tired and cranky.

She’d asked the movers to haul away the leftover furniture in the cabin as a last request. They’d demurred; not their job. But then she’d given them a substantial cash tip and they’d changed their minds. Now she sank down on the love seat, wishing for an iced tea. Maybe caffeine free, though she really felt like she could use a dose of some kind of picker-upper. But it was a moot point anyway because she wasn’t sure what box held the remains of her pantry and she didn’t feel like searching.

What she really felt like doing was getting into bed, but that would mean making up the queen-size in the master bedroom. Again, she wasn’t sure where the bedding was.

She picked up her phone and thought about texting Luke to ask when he would be stopping by. A part of her really wanted to see him, and it wasn’t because she was looking for a protector, and another part wished she had a day or two to put herself together. Grimacing, she sent another text to Trini, who was being remarkably quiet after practically insisting Andi meet her new guy. This time Andi wrote: Am moved into the cabin. Kinda beat.