The Killing Game(89)

“You lying to me?”

“Carlos.” Luke stared at him.

“Who’s in there?” he asked suspiciously.

“A friend.”

“A woman?”

“Yes, a woman friend,” Luke said, starting to get angry.

Carlos lifted his hands, conceding the point. “Helena has taken Emily again.”

“Carlos, you know I’m not involved in this. Now move out of the way. You’ve probably scared her to death.”

Luke shouldered his way past Carlos and into his office. Andi was sitting at his desk in the near dark, her cell phone in her hand. “Luke,” she said.

“Don’t worry. Carlos thought you were someone else.”

Carlos stepped into the room behind Luke, who whipped around to glare at him. He held up his hands again. “I am leaving. If you need anything,” he told Luke as he handed him a card, “you call me.”

“I don’t need a landscaper, but thanks.”

“You might need something else sometime.” He shot Luke a knowing glance, then took off.

Luke locked the door after he was gone, then turned back to Andi.

“That sounded kind of ominous,” she said, rising to her feet. She practically stumbled into Luke’s arms.

“I think I may have underestimated Carlos,” Luke admitted.

“What did Thompkins say? Jarrett hasn’t called back. Everything’s so out of control.”

Luke brought her up to speed, finishing with, “Thompkins is leaning toward her death being an accident, but I’m leaning the other way.”

“Bobby?”

“I didn’t tell the detective about the bird messages. I maybe should have, but I wanted him engaged in this and I’m not sure how much he is. I met another detective I’d like to contact again. She might be more helpful.”

*

September arrived at Sirocco Realty twenty minutes later than she’d expected. She pushed through the front door to find three sober female employees, Kitsy and two others, one closer to Kitsy’s age whose coat was slung over her arm as if she were on her way out, and another in her early twenties. The one in her twenties sat in the reception desk chair, wide-eyed and pale, braids falling to her shoulders. The other woman was drawn and tense, and Kitsy held a tissue in one hand, her eyes red.

“Detective,” Kitsy said in relief upon seeing her. “I’m sorry. I can’t remember your name.”

“Rafferty.”

“That’s right, Rafferty. That’s right.” She looked helplessly at the other two women, who were staring at September.

“I’m Edie,” the older woman introduced herself. Her eyes were dark with sadness. “When Kitsy told me about Tracy, I . . . I knew I wanted to talk to you.”

“And this is Heidi Sorenson,” Kitsy said, motioning to the girl in the chair. “She’s our part-time receptionist. Works mostly weekends.”

“Hi,” Heidi said dully.

“I’m sorry about Tracy,” September began. “I was asked by the Winslow Sheriff’s Department to meet with you and—”

“Who could do this?” Edie broke in, unable to hold back her horror. “Why?”

Kitsy said, “None of us knew Tracy all that well outside of work.”

“She was here yesterday,” Heidi said, squeezing out huge tears. “She came in for a few minutes. I got her a cup of coffee, but she didn’t drink it.”

“She came by to pick something up apparently,” Kitsy explained. “It wasn’t a workday for her.”

“Pick something up?” September questioned.

“In the desk. Bottom drawer.” Heidi pointed. “It was partly open and the box was gone.”

“What box?” Edie asked.

“I don’t know. But it was there before she came. . . .” More tears followed and ran down Heidi’s cheeks. “And then it was gone when she was gone.”

Kitsy looked at Edie, who shook her head. September gazed from one to the other. “Something you want to tell me?”

Kitsy kept right on looking at Edie, as if daring her to speak up. Finally, Edie said, “I told Kitsy I suspected Tracy was letting herself into some of our listings without our knowledge. She didn’t have an electronic key so she couldn’t access the lockboxes.”

“She wasn’t a Realtor,” Kitsy explained.

Edie went on, “But she was inside a couple of homes. One, the seller called me and was really upset. She’d come home and there was Tracy, who acted like she was there on Sirocco business, but she wasn’t.”

“What was she doing?”

“We don’t know.” Edie pressed her lips together and shook her head, then said, “I was worried she was stealing, or planning to steal.”

“Tracy wouldn’t do that!” Heidi burst out.

Kitsy said, “Of course not, dear,” but over Heidi’s head her silent gaze said, Well, yes, maybe she would.

“Nothing was ever reported stolen,” September guessed.

“No,” Edie admitted. “I just hope we don’t have somebody six months from now realizing their diamond earrings are missing.”

“What do you think was in the box?” September asked.