“You saw the files. You know I’m right. Harbor Creek could be a copycat.”
Drake blew out a stream of air. “I know Tom was your friend, but you need to let this go. You’ve got nothing that will stand up in court.”
“No, I’ll never let this go.” Not as long as Laud walked free, free to destroy another family for his own selfish ends.
Drake’s voice took on the steel edge that meant obey or else. “I’ll give you two weeks.”
Two weeks—Rick needed all of that to finish the group home, then some. He pocketed his phone and walked back to his crew. Half were local family men, but two or three of the others had criminal records. Men Laud might coax to do his dirty work.
Vic, an ex-con Rick once helped send to jail, gave him a curious look.
Two months undercover on Vic’s case had netted a warehouse stuffed with stolen high-end car parts and a five-year sentence for Vic—lots of time for a man to stew over who put him there. Heat pulsed through Rick’s veins. Just because he’d kept his identity concealed at the trial didn’t mean Vic hadn’t figured out who sprang the trap.
Rick’s mind flashed to the note—I know.
No. The rock thrower was too small to be Vic. Rick slapped on his hard hat. Besides, he’d checked on the whereabouts that night of every crew member. Vic had been at the bar on Fifth.
Rick would keep his eye on him all the same. He might be ninety-nine percent certain that Laud’s creditors were behind the attack, but until he neutralized that other one percent no one was above suspicion.
After work Rick headed to Laud’s office to test his reaction to the news of last night’s fire. The glass structure stood like a giant prism reflecting the orange sun. In addition to Laud’s BMW, a gray Buick sat in the lot. Rick grabbed the construction blueprints to give the impression his visit concerned the project and strode toward the front doors.
A short guy, rumpled suit, slicked hair, averted his gaze and hurried out as Rick reached the door. The guy cut across the lawn and climbed into a dark sedan parked down the street.
Rick couldn’t make out the license plate.
A new receptionist, Laud’s third in as many months, sat at the desk facing the entrance. “Hi, I’m Duke Black, Laud’s foreman.”
The redhead looked up and Rick’s heart stopped for a full two beats.
Her face had hollowed out, leaving her eyes shadowed. And her hair.
The sun glinted off the short spikes like fiery flames. Her hair used to be brown.
A stab of guilt knifed his gut. How could he have let more than a month lapse since his last visit to Tom’s widow?
“Mary? What are you doing here?”
“Duke?” A hint of laughter colored the question. “Is that the best name you could come up with?” She shook her head. “You guys always did act like John Wayne wannabes.”
“Hey, I use whatever name they give me.” He glanced at Laud’s closed door and lowered his voice. “You know how it works.”
She matched his tone, and something about her—something more than the hair—seemed different. “So you’re investigating my boss? What for?”
“Like I said, you know how this works.” If she knew who Laud was and why Rick was here, she wouldn’t be within a hundred miles of this place.
“Sure, I understand. Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
He slanted another glance down the hallway. “You can look for another job.”
“Please don’t tell me that. It took me two months to find this one. Miller’s Bay isn’t exactly an employment hub.”
“I thought you and Meaghan moved to Toronto.”
“We couldn’t. My in-laws petitioned for custody and won. At least temporarily.”
“I’m sorry.”
“They warned me the day of Tom’s funeral they’d do it. I know I’m only Meaghan’s stepmom, but I never thought the judge would …” Mary dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Tom’s folks never liked me.”
Rick wanted to argue, but he’d seen enough of their attitude to suspect she was right. “If there’s anything I can do, just ask.”
“Thanks. Just so you know, I’m using my maiden name. My references were from before I married Tom.”
“Crantz, got it. We can say we know each other from high school. You can answer one question for me. Who was the guy who cut out of here a few minutes ago?”
“Our salesman, Samuel Jones.”
At the end of the hallway, Laud’s door opened. He rushed toward the exit, glancing at Rick’s blueprints as he passed by. “I’ve no time to talk now. I’m late for an appointment. Mary, lock up when you leave.”
“Yes, sir.” Mary turned her attention back to Rick. “I was on my way to the diner for supper. Care to join me?”
Rick thought about the leads he wanted to chase down tonight and resisted the temptation to involve Mary, but when she turned hopeful eyes his way he didn’t have the heart to say no.
Ginny slowed her car to make the turn into the parking lot of Hank’s Diner.
In the passenger seat, her friend Kim pointed to someone coming out the side door. “Hey, isn’t that your foreman guy?”
Despite Ginny’s resolve to keep her relationship with Rick strictly business, her heart fluttered at the prospect of running into him.
Kim rubbed her hands together a little too gleefully. Dressed in her usual fitness wear with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked like a kid with way too much mischief in her genes. “Ooh, this will be so much fun. We can walk over to him all nonchalant-like and—” Kim grabbed Ginny’s arm. “Stop. Don’t turn. He’s with another woman!”
Ginny punched the gas and sped away. “What am I doing? Why should I care if he’s with another woman?”
“Oh, come on. You haven’t stopped talking about him since he got to town.”
“Complaining about someone is not the same as liking them.” Okay, maybe after his hundred and one courtesy calls—updates on the investigation and pleas to lay low—had begun to peter out, she’d actually started to miss hearing from him. But all she had to do was picture that rock smashing through her window to remember why she shouldn’t.
“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t want him because some redhead has already snatched him up.”
Ginny veered into the next parking lot, turned around and headed back to the diner.
Kim toppled against the car door. “What are you doing?”
“Going to eat. Where we’d planned.” She lifted her chin, ignoring the erratic thud in her chest. She couldn’t avoid him forever, especially if she wanted to stay in the loop on their investigation. She just needed to resist his charm, and with another woman in the picture and Kim at her side that’d be a cinch.
“You go, girl,” Kim shouted, punching the air like the teen delinquents she supervised down at the detention center. “Just play it cool,” she added in her coaching voice. “If there’s anything serious going on between Duke and the redhead, he’ll avoid you like rotten meat.”
“Hmm, thanks for that picture.” Ginny parked and wiped her sweaty palms down her slacks. Then, wearing a carefree smile she didn’t feel but hoped Rick would believe, she wandered toward the pair.
Rick’s