The Witness

Chapter Five

SHE WAS RICH.

The thought clashed with years of feeling short of money, and the reality began to take substance as Marie walked the sidewalks back to her gallery. The Denart, a few of the other paintings she loved… she could collect for the first time in her life.

The sack she carried brushed her knee. She’d taken Daniel’s advice and stopped at her favorite paint-supply store and bought the paints and tools she’d always wished she could afford. Her studio was about to be her safe haven and retreat from this uncertain place she was in. Security upgrades, unlisted phone numbers, background checks on future staff she hired… there were serious changes about to arrive in her life.

The gallery would become a visitors’ stopping place, browsers hoping to meet her rather than buyers coming to shop, and the need for more staff would be immediate. The studio would be her place to push back against some of those pressures. Tracey would have it easier, Marie thought, for she’d left her job with a medical counseling group to continue her schooling. The changes in lifestyle necessary to accommodate the unfortunate facts coming along with the new wealth could be factored in without a problem.

The sidewalk in front of her gallery had a few people waiting for the crossing light, and against the brick wall a man in a jacket and jeans waited beside the door to her private entrance to her apartment above the gallery. He had seen her approaching and was watching as she walked toward him. A compact man, dark hair, and eyes that studied her with more than casual inspection, his hands holding leather gloves rather than wearing them. Her steps slowed.

“Marie?”

“Yes.”

“Lieutenant Connor Black. Daniel sent me.”

She flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Please come up.”

“It’s no problem; Daniel caught me on this side of town. And I hear shopping is good thinking time.” He pushed away from the wall as he smiled, and she caught the change just that smile caused as it lightened the intensity of his face and made hazel eyes soften.

She smiled back at him. “Shopping for work: some paint supplies, and I still stood and debated with myself the prices for which kind of brush to buy.”

He laughed. “I doubt that will ever change. Daniel asked for a quick answer on what kind of security needs you might have for the next few days, and I had an ulterior motive for agreeing with his request. Your sister Tracey is dating Caleb Marsh-my partner.”

She turned from wrestling with her key in the old lock. “Marsh is-” She beamed. “Oh, I adore him. Do you have time for a cup of coffee first? I would say we have a good deal to discuss.” She got the door to unlock, and he held it for her.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever thought of Marsh as adorable, but lately the man has looked happy in a way I haven’t seen in years; for that reason I already like your sister a great deal.”

She led the way up the stairs to the second floor. The hallway turned and made its way across the gallery space below. “Storage rooms and utilities are on the east side, and we combined rooms on this side to create an apartment flat.” She unlocked the middle door and turned on the flat lights. “Please come in. Lieutenant-”

“Make it Connor, please.”

“Connor. It’s been four hours since I first got the news. I admit I’m still in a bit of a fog about it all. You’ll have to tell me what you need to see.”

“I’d say that fog is understandable.”

“I’ve been trying to figure out what to tell Tracey, but the words aren’t there yet.” She set down her packages on the dining-room table.

“It’s not a small thing, finally putting a name to the father you didn’t know,” he commented.

She relaxed. Beyond a glance around the flat his attention had stayed on her, and his words were unexpectedly kind. “Thank you. That’s been the bigger of the shocks; the money doesn’t feel real yet. But I knew Henry in a casual way-he bought paintings from me, I served him coffee, and all the while I was sitting across from my own father.”

“Makes you mad?”

“Yeah. Furious. But it’s another emotion for after the shock of all this fades. Please make yourself comfortable. Look around. I’ll start some coffee.”

The apartment was large and open, the kitchen counter one of the few room dividers beyond the door leading into the bedroom wing. She found the canister of coffee and filled the carafe with water, glad to be back in her own kitchen and on her own turf. She set the coffee to percolating and pushed open lids to find something to share. She bit into a shortbread cookie and found it still fresh; she got out a check-patterned blue-and-white plate to set out the rest.

She watched as Connor walked around looking at some of the artwork she had displayed around the living room. She’d hung a set of small oil portraits capturing four generations of one family, and on the far wall a fascinating piece that tried to capture the feeling of an urban city market. She particularly loved the small watercolor beside the clock, the scene capturing water flowing over a cliffside and falling into the sea below. She tried to keep variety in the art around her, to keep her own perspectives ever widening for what was possible to accomplish with paint. Over one of the couches hung her newest addition, a bold study in cubes and lighting, its vivid reds and greens dominating the white-painted brick wall behind the canvas. Connor’s expression was difficult to judge. “What do you think?”

“You’ve got good natural lighting, and the tall ceilings-it makes this space really great. And the paintings-those are pretty nice too.”

She smiled at the soft teasing she could hear in his reply. “Tracey calls it our brick warehouse, but she laughs as she says it. She’s the one who figured out how to get the stencils to work on brick.”

He turned from studying the waterfall. “You’ve got a nice home. It’s elegant, Marie, and at the same time comfortable.”

“I think so.” She pulled out a tray and when the coffee was done brought it over to the low table set between the two love-seat couches.

He took a seat in the barrel chair and accepted the coffee mug she offered. “Thank you.”

“I can almost see the lists being written; you took one look at this place and nearly winced.”

Connor smiled. “Actually, this place I love. It’s that old door and lock downstairs, the dim hallway, the fire escape coupled with very old windows-there will need to be some work done in the next twenty-four hours to make it safe for you and Tracey to be here.”

“I’m not willing to consider moving away from the only home I’ve known in the last decade just because I inherited some money.”

He held up his hand. “Relax; there’s nothing here that money can’t deal with-new locks, doors, security system, and for the next bit, a security guard on-site for another layer of help. It doesn’t do much good to have a security alarm sound trouble and have the cops still be five minutes away from arriving to help, not when the risk is more personal than just a robbery.”

“What kind of risk?”

“With serious-sized new wealth? You’d be surprised, Marie.” He settled back in his seat with the coffee and studied her a moment before answering. “Any former boyfriends in your life? They’ll find reasons to want to pick up the relationship again. Anyone imagine they were once a boyfriend? How about former school friends who have hit a bad patch lately? Former or current business partners? There are dollars attached to your name now and all kinds of past grievances to imagine.

“And that’s just the beginning, Marie. Then there are those who want to be near the fame and publicity of it all or be involved in creating it-the autograph hounds, the reporters wanting photos of you ‘relaxing at home,’ the admirers who would like to get to know you, the other lost children of Henry who will begin appearing wanting to claim a piece of the pie too, the financial advisors who will have sure things for you to invest in. Money brings out all kinds. And while most will be just a nuisance for you, there’s going to be a couple that are the reason you should have-and need-some rapid security upgrades around here.”

“At least it’s no to most of those categories you mentioned.” She sighed. “There will be others claiming to be Henry’s kids, presenting themselves as also being my relatives?”

“It’s inevitable,” Connor replied. “Henry names you and Tracey in his will, and you can be sure he knew who his kids really were. So when the letters arrive, the phone calls, just pass them on and don’t worry about it. Daniel and the estate have the resources to deal with all those who will come forward.”

The thought gave her a pounding headache. “Paternity tests were run for a reason, I guess. Daniel mentioned Henry had already had them done for Tracey and me.” She set aside her coffee.

“Any past boyfriends to worry about? an ex? the personal kind of trouble?” he asked again quietly.

She looked over at him and shook her head. Did that make her life boring or simple, that there weren’t troubles in the back of her personal closet? She thought it made her sound like what she was: alone.

“Family?”

“Nothing closer than a very distant cousin or two. Tracey and I were all the family that was left.”

“Then you’ll survive this, Marie. It’s those close to you who can do the hurting-the rest of the world will take care of itself. Marsh won’t get rattled by the money, so Tracey is in pretty good hands. And once the gallery downstairs is secured, and this apartment, your day-to-day routine won’t necessarily have to change much. You’ll still have a business to manage if you want that.”

“From the sound of it, I’m going to need that slice of normalcy. How long have you and Marsh been partners?”

“Six years. We started working homicide at roughly the same time.”

“Marsh doesn’t say much about work.”

“It’s his nature to leave it behind when he leaves the office; I carry it with me longer, I think. It’s not enjoyable work, but we’re good at it. We’re fortunate the city has had fewer and fewer murders each year to deal with. When I started out it was like getting thrown in the deep end.”

“This used to be one of those rougher neighborhoods before the downtown-revitalization money came in. It’s one of the reasons I was able to afford this amount of space for the gallery.”

“How’s the area been recently?”

“Quiet. Not even a robbery in the area in recent years.” She refilled her coffee from the carafe she had brought over. “What’s the police chief like?”

He looked surprised at the question. “Granger? Good boss, nice guy, a cop’s cop. He’s on the street more than he’s behind the desk. Why?”

“Daniel apparently knows him. He wants me to meet him tonight.”

“That’s smart. Granger is the kind of guy who can smooth things around for you and Tracey without it being obvious. He does a surprising amount of socializing for a man who doesn’t care to be out and about.”

“He’s networked.”

“Like very few others are in this town. I think he takes it personally, the well-being of those who live in his jurisdiction, even the upper crust who tend to end up in trouble by their own choices or lack of attention to their surroundings.”

It gave her a picture of the police chief, and Marie thought she would find it interesting to meet him. Connor admired him: it was there in the tone of his voice. Marie studied the bottom of her coffee mug and wondered how much she could get away with prying. “Are you close to Marsh?”

“We’re not brothers, but there are days we might as well be.” He smiled. “What do you need to know, Marie?”

She looked up at him briefly and smiled. “Is Marsh serious about Tracey? Is he the type to want to settle down? So many things that would have played out on their own course are going to get badly disrupted right now.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about Marsh; he’s a selective kind of guy. Your sister chose him, rather than the other way around, and that kind of smoothed the age difference between them. Not that Marsh ever tried to put on the brakes to the relationship. From all I’ve seen they are a very good match together. The money isn’t going to change his opinion about your sister, and I don’t think it changes your sister all that much either-I expect she’ll still finish that degree and then rejoin a medical practice here in town. But this will likely slow down any plans the two of them have been talking about until this situation sorts itself out more, rather than speed up those plans.”

“Yes, I think you’re right about that.” Marie sighed. “I worry about her, being married to a cop one day. He’s a good cop, and oddly that makes it harder than if he wasn’t so committed to the job.”

“I know.”

“You’re not going to tell me not to worry?”

“Marsh and I carry guns; they don’t give them to us because it’s a desk job.”

“I like you.”

He laughed. “Because I’m honest?”

“Because you’re sitting there drinking my coffee and answering my questions and being pretty patient with getting handed this task as a favor for a friend.”

“Daniel’s an old friend-that does make a difference.” He got to his feet. “But it’s probably best we get on with the task before you need to get changed to go meet Granger. I like my boss, but I do try my best not to keep him waiting.”

She got to her feet too.

“Without wanting to invade your privacy, let me glance in bedrooms and the bath, get a count of windows; then I need to see storage rooms and access to the roof, any other ways on and off this floor. Securing the gallery floor will be the easier task.”

She nodded. “This way.” She wished she remembered how she’d left her bed that morning, how many clothes were still tossed around, if her makeup still sprawled across the bathroom counter. She’d been in a hurry to open the gallery and make the meeting with Daniel, not thinking there would be anyone up here today. Her Saturday had been planned to be her cleanup day.

Connor glanced around her bedroom, smiled at the mannequin she used to keep her coat and hat and longer scarves, and counted windows. He glanced into the second bedroom. “Does Tracey stay here often?”

“She rooms on campus when classes are in session. She’ll be here for another ten days or so, and then she planned to head back.”

“I’ll make sure someone stops by her place on campus next week and gets its security tightened up.”

“The third bedroom I use as a studio of sorts.”

The room had the best lighting of all the bedrooms for it faced north and had three full windows. The room was pretty bare. She’d spent the night before setting out new canvases to work on, and her sketch board had been cleared. She’d left the furnishings as a simple arrangement of chairs and open display case for her paint supplies.

“You spend a lot of time here.”

“More and more as the years pass.”

“I like it. Someday I can say I knew you when.”

She laughed. “I doubt my paintings will ever become collectible works.”

“You never know.” He added more notes to his pad.

Connor rewalked the living-room area, and she saw him studying where the heating and cooling came in, counting windows, and checking what doors inside had locks. “Are you particularly attached to any of this woodwork? It really would be good to have better frames on the windows and solid doors put in for the bedroom wing. Someone gets inside or someone’s just hassling you, you’ve still got layers of protection and locks you can throw.”

“I’m not going to quibble if you think it needs to be done. Daniel gave me a pretty good reality check even before you rattled off that list of risks.”

He looked over, and she understood the gaze even if she didn’t want to understand it. “Rattling you is okay, Marie-scaring you is not. Sorry about that.” He counted doors. “The more stuff done now tends to mean less trouble later, and the carpenters can do it all as one rush job.”

He jotted notes. “I’ve got what I need in here. Show me the storage rooms and utilities.”

She picked up her key ring and led the way.

“You’ve got valuables stored up here?”

“I built a room downstairs to be secure storage for the paintings; up here is extra framing and packing materials, Christmas decorations, replacement panels to use when we have a showing, that kind of thing.”

He walked past the storage shelves to the windows and tried turning the locks. “You open the windows during the summer?”

“Yes. I don’t think any of the windows will still be painted shut, but a few are tighter than others.”

He looked at the fire alarm. “Cover your ears.” He reached up and hit the self-test button. “You’ve changed the batteries recently.”

“First of every month. Fire is the one thing I’m kind of paranoid about.”

“That’s not such a bad thing to be. Where’s the electrical box for the building?”

“There are two-one for this floor, one for the gallery.” She opened the utilities room and clicked on the light, then nodded toward the electrical box on the back wall.

Connor checked it. “Good, there’s room. New lighting for the hall can include emergency floodlights as well as just better fixtures and higher watt bulbs. Someone cuts your electricity, the emergency lights will automatically come on in the halls. Amazing how many times that’s enough to stop trouble in its tracks. And it saves you a lot of time if there is a fire or other reason to be leaving quickly.”

“You’re not doing a very good job cheering me up here.”

He smiled. “Daniel gets the bills; just remember that. I’ll have the carpenters replace that stairway handrail for you too; I noticed it was a bit shaky. You’ve got another staircase down to the gallery level, or do you always go out to the street and then back inside?”

“There’s another stairwell at the other end of the hall. We use it just enough to keep the cobwebs down.”

She led the way to show him.

“Nice.” The stair treads were steep and narrow and disappeared with a sharp turn.

“The building was divided in half until about thirty years ago. This used to be the other entrance, but they bricked the former doorway and turned the direction of the final few stairs when they combined the building.” Accustomed to the narrower treads she walked down first with her hands braced against each wall and turned the corner, stepping into the open storage room at the back of the gallery.

Connor joined her. “Doors at the top and the bottom and brick on either side of you-it has potential.” He checked the lock. “If you had a fire, Marie, I’d use these stairs rather than try for the main stairway. There are no cooling or heat ducts to carry smoke in. I’ll have them put in a steel-core door at the top-that will give you better security and a final bit of fire protection and emergency lighting.” He jotted down a final note and then looked around where they stood. “Okay, what’s down here?”

“This is general storage and where we pack paintings to ship.” She pointed to the back wall. “The longer narrow storage room is climate controlled for the paintings and built to not let you get inside easily.”

“I can see that; it’s the first lock I’ve respected on sight so far.”

She laughed and led the way into the gallery. “The gallery has four areas, loosely divided into themes, with two main brick walls forming the interior and the main support column for upstairs. I’ve also got my office down here and a more elegant seating area for when I’m talking with buyers over coffee and cake.”

“I can see I should have been into art a long time ago; car shops might have the coffee but rarely the chance to sit in elegance to drink it.” He walked around, studying the large windows that looked out onto the street, the pedestrians passing by. “You’ve already got a security system down here.”

“Yes. Once the place is locked up it’s pretty secure-break triggers on the doors, the plate-glass windows, enough for the insurance bill to come down some. The silent alarm contacts the police.”

“You open and close the gallery most days? Or do you have staff that handles it?”

“I’m the one most often handling opening and closings. The posted hours are ten to six, and we’re open on Saturdays but not Sundays; it’s also pretty common to have private showings or special evenings with invited guests. I have one assistant who has been with me since I opened the gallery who works about thirty hours a week. She typically works the lunch hours for me and helps when there is a showing to put together or a shipment coming in. When she needs to be out of town, as she is today and I’ve got a meeting, I simply close the gallery for a few hours. It’s not a good solution, but the business doesn’t do enough volume to support more than the two of us.”

“How do you handle the cash?”

“There’s a safe on the premises in the office, and I bank at the branch across the street. It’s not been a problem. Most of the sales are by check.”

He walked through the gallery rooms, and while she wasn’t disappointed exactly that he didn’t comment on the artwork displayed, she was surprised he didn’t seem to even linger to take a second glance at some of the works. The artwork available this month was some of the finest she’d ever been able to afford.

“Daniel will be after that Denart in the front window and that Gibson on the east wall,” he predicted.

The fact he’d put the artists’ names to their art without looking at the signature cards startled her. “He already asked about the Denart. You know his tastes?”

“Someone once swiped four paintings out of his office. This was before he worked at the Benton Group; it’s how I first met him.”

“I wondered.”

“I learned enough about art working that case to at least know why he bought the paintings he did. Daniel and I play softball together in a league, and he’s a pretty regular racquetball partner. Your cousin is the kind of friend you don’t think twice about picking up the phone and calling to ask for a favor. Just so you know.”

“Yeah, that helps. Not too full of himself.”

“A pretty average guy for all the media attention. Where’s your office?”

“Back here.” She turned on lights.

He paused in the doorway. “Comfortable.”

“I spend a lot of time here.”

“I’m going to suggest another couple phone lines with at least one of them a very private number you give only to friends. And if you’ve got the power outlets to handle it, we’ll bring one of the security monitors in here and probably another one tucked away near that front reception desk. Cameras on the streets, covering the rooms here, another two for the stairway and hall-they don’t have to be intrusive to give you a lot more information about what is around you than you have now.”

“I’ll get used to them.”

He nodded. “In a few weeks, you’ll wonder how you functioned without them. No more deliverymen you don’t recognize before you open the door.”

He finished his notes and slid his notebook back into his pocket. He leaned back against the front of the desk. “Nothing on the list is going to be particularly hard to get installed. The window locks and frames are probably the toughest job-there are simply so many of them. And at least it’s projected to be good weather tomorrow. Once it’s all in, I’ll walk you around and show you how to take maximum advantage of it all.”

“I appreciate all this, Connor, even if I am a bit befuddled by it.”

He laughed. “I haven’t heard that word since about seventh grade. You’ll get used to it, Marie. The changes are going to come in a bunch, but they’ll level off after a while.”

“How would you handle it, being wealthy?”

He thought about it. “I’d probably take better vacations.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. What I need, I have, and what I want, I enjoy dreaming about. I like my job.”

“I wonder if I’m still going to like having this gallery after all the curiosity seekers come by.”

“You’ve built this as a place you love, and you’ll still love it a year from now.” He paused. “May I?” He reached for a photo on her desk. “Your family?”

“My aunt and the three of us girls: Mandy, Tracey, and me. My aunt passed away in ’95, and Mandy was killed in ’98. That’s one of the last pictures I have of us together.”

“Mandy was your older sister?”

“Four years older. She was murdered in New York.”

His gaze shot up to hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”

“It’s okay.” She leaned back against the credenza. “We’ve never been able to give her a funeral; they never found her body.”

He stilled and looked back at the photo again. “I really don’t mean to pry, but what happened?” When he looked back up at her she didn’t understand the quietness in him, but she did understand the sympathy and appreciated it.

“She’d had dinner out with her boyfriend; they were on the way back to her place. The car stopped at a stoplight, and someone walked up and shot her boyfriend three times in the chest. They found Mandy’s blood on the passenger seat, and a witness saw a woman being chased from the scene. They never found her body, but the police finally concluded she had been killed that night too. Her apartment was never returned to-pets abandoned, her credit cards never used, her bank accounts never touched, her car where she had left it parked. No one ever heard from her again. She would have called had she been alive. That convinced me more than anything that she was gone. We had a private investigator work with the cops, but what he found just confirmed what we knew-a pendant she never took off showed up at a pawnshop, that kind of thing. I wish her body had been found so we could have had a funeral. It’s like an open sore without the closure. And I’m sure it will get dragged up again now that we are in the news.”

“It’s the kind of case a homicide cop dreads, the one that you can’t fully wrap up. Did they identify the shooter?”

“They had some solid suspicions, but nothing they could prove. I doubt Mandy ever suspected her accountant boyfriend had some less-than-reputable clients. She was trusting that way, always assuming the best. She ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time. The guy they think probably hired the hit went to jail two years ago on an unrelated murder charge. I’d like more justice for Mandy, but it’s not going to bring her back. And that’s the hardest part to live with.”

He carefully set the photo down. “I really am sorry for your loss.”

“I’d have hated to tell Mandy she’s just my half sister. We’ve been sisters all our life. Today would have been incredibly rough on her.”

Connor shook his head. “Today wouldn’t have changed anything; you’re always family.” He tugged out a card and wrote two numbers on the back. “Anything bothers you in the next few weeks, even a cat walking on the fire escape, give me a call. Marsh or I will be around.”

“I appreciate it, Connor.” She slid the card into her pocket.

“Show me out, Marie, lock up, and then get ready to meet Daniel. I’ll give him a call before then with a list of items I think need dealt with. You’ll like Granger; he’s a good police chief. And if he suggests anything else tonight, take his advice.”

“I’ll do that.” Marie saw the clock as she turned off the office light. Connor had been with her almost two hours. He was doing quite a favor for a friend.

Connor stepped outside and zipped his jacket, then turned to walk back to join her again. “Would you mind terribly if you heard Marsh proposed to Tracey?”

She blinked, then smiled. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

Connor smiled back. “Good.”

“You know something, don’t you?”

He stepped away, pulling on gloves. “Nope. I swear. But my mom calls me a touch of a romantic. Let’s just say I had hopes for this weekend before today arrived.”

“I did too.”

“Did you?” He grinned. “I’ll see you around, Marie.”

Connor shoved the door closed to the police chief’s office with his foot and searched for the item in the thick file he remembered. “Chief, I don’t know what to think.” Granger had canceled two appointments on the strength of his request for half an hour of his time as soon as possible, and Connor wasn’t one to shy away from giving his boss a gut reaction to events, not when it was this serious.

“There are three sisters, not two: Mandy, Tracey, and Marie. The oldest everyone thinks is dead, murdered in New York eight years ago. Daniel thinks it, the two sisters do, the New York cops, the investigator the family had work the case. But I swear, Chief, I picked up the family photo on Marie’s desk, and I was looking at a younger photo of someone I recognized.”

Connor found the photo he sought and felt a punch in his gut; reality was even more vivid than his memory. He set it on the desk. “I will swear on my grandmother’s grave that lady is the oldest sister, Mandy, and she was very much alive as of three years ago.”

Connor watched the chief shift the photo over to his side of the desk and pick it up. He was quiet for an unusually long time. “The sisters, Marie and Tracey, their last name is Griffin? Daniel didn’t say.”

“Yeah.”

The chief tapped the photo. “Meet Amanda Griffin; Amy to her friends, Mandy to her family.”

Connor dropped into a chair. “I was hoping I wasn’t right. The sister was staying in this town under the name Kelly Brown, while her sisters thought she was dead? What kind of oldest sister is that?”

“One afraid they’d be dead if she showed up alive.”

That simple statement on the chief’s part told Connor a whole lot of case was out there he’d never even had a clue existed. “I stepped into something I shouldn’t have, didn’t I?”

Luke smiled. “Well, for what it’s worth, you caught a wrinkle others had missed.” He nodded to the photo he held. “Kelly Brown, Ann Walsh-she’s used those and probably quite a few more names over the years. The sisters believe she’s dead?”

“They’re absolutely convinced of it. They think she was murdered in New York eight years ago, and either the cops that worked the case did a really good snow job for some reason or they think she’s dead as well. Marie said she’d even hired a private investigator to look at it, and he also concluded the sister was dead. Her body was never found.”

“Then, Connor, you and Marsh are about to have a tough reality, because for now Amy is dead. And you two never saw the photo of Kelly Brown. Clear?”

“I can handle that part. So can Marsh. But she’s got two sisters about to be seriously rich. And I can tell you for a fact it’s not going to take long before Marie and Tracey are posting a major reward for information about their sister to try to find the body and get some closure. Marie calls it an open wound, the fact they never were able to have a funeral.”

“Okay. I’ve got some calls to make.” The chief looked at his watch. “And I’ve got a meeting with Daniel in just under two hours, and he’s bringing Marie with him. What’s she like?”

Connor smiled. “Nice. Pretty.” He thought about the last few hours, about the impression he’d been left with. “She’s a little like a pretty tiger shark. A little wary on the initial read, pretty determined on what she wants, and eyes that make you want to look back a second and third time to figure out what she’s really thinking.”

Luke chuckled. “Interesting choice of comparison, but I know what you mean. Amy was like that too. Confident, but preferring to swim alone. Keep your phone on tonight. I’ll be in touch, probably very late. You’ve got a number for Marsh?”

“Yes.”

“Call and tell him quietly to do the same.”

“Trouble’s coming?”

“Trouble’s already here. Thanks, Connor.”

“Anytime, Boss.”

Luke’s home office was quiet, and he didn’t bother to turn on the radio or sit and check e-mail as he would have normally done. He unlocked the private safe and tugged out a folder. He shifted his coffee to the side and picked up the phone. He had wondered at the reason Amy had been in his town, staying under the radar screen in such an odd place as Brentwood. She’d had family here to watch out for, family to protect from Richard Wise trying to use them to locate her.

He should have seen it. The detective working for him should have seen it. Sam Chapel-Sam would have put it together, and he’d never said a word. Luke’s eyes narrowed. Amy had turned to Sam. It was the only thing that made sense. Sam had been working for Amy either from the very first or from sometime after Luke had hired him, but one way or the other, Sam had been feeding him misleading information. Sam had never lied; he’d just stopped short of passing on all he knew. And odds were good the investigator Marie had hired to deal with the New York cops had also been Sam Chapel. Brentwood was a big town but not that big when it came to well-respected detective agencies. Sam had convinced the sisters Amy was dead-to protect them? to protect Amy? This was a big town, but still… the lady had been taking a risk working at a mall even on the other side of town.

While Luke waited for the phone to be answered, he looked again at Amy’s photo. She was still pretty, still clear in his mind even after three years. Meeting Amy’s sister tonight was going to be an interesting experience, if difficult, given the information he’d not be able to tell her.

The phone was finally answered. “Chapel.”

“Sam; Granger. I’m meeting Marie Griffin in twenty minutes. I think you and I need to talk, don’t you?”

His words were met by a puff of exhaled breath, and then the answering voice hammered back, “It’s about time you called me. Ever since Henry died I’ve been waiting to get waylaid some evening and have the stuffing pounded out of me.”

“You’ve been running on the wrong side of the street for too long: I’ll just yank your investigator’s license and stuff your gun permit down the shredder. Ten o’clock tonight, my place?”

“I’m in Texas, so it will have to be tomorrow night, but I’ll be there. There’s a lot more than you’ve figured out so far.”

“I already figured as much. You were sourcing Amy the IDs, weren’t you?”

“Among other things. Tomorrow, Luke. And think kind thoughts between now and then, would you? I dated the woman once upon a blue moon ago, and it was kind of hard to tell her no.”

“When did you last talk with her?”

“That’s one of the problems. She went cold twenty months ago.”

“Bring everything you have.”

“You’ve got my word. You ought to know now-Silver’s in on it too.”

“I should have seen that coming.” Jonathan Silver of Silver Security, Inc. had been friends with Sam back to the days the men had been in grade school. This kind of job, Sam would have kept it tight to the vest when he needed help.

“Jonathan’s got Silver Security guys sitting on both sisters at the moment, so you might want to tell Marsh not to get spooked and take an aversion to the guy watching his and Tracey’s backs. Your cop is not the kind of guy to ask questions until after he’s snuck up and crowned the guy watching them first.”

“I’ll pass the word on,” Luke promised. “Tomorrow, Sam.” He hung up the phone and rubbed a hand across his face.

Jonathan Silver knowing was probably a good thing, for the man had security resources that could be put on the task of watching for trouble without having to figure out how to budget such a thing into city resources.

Amy hadn’t been heard from in the last twenty months; that was not good news. She should have already turned in the books and the account numbers by now. She’d said at the time he met her she thought that would be done in another year, and that was three years ago. He knew Richard Wise was in jail on an unrelated murder charge. Part of him had hoped Amy was safely past the trouble. But if she had went cold twenty months ago-that said trouble had found her. There would have been no reason for Richard Wise not to kill her once the money had been turned in.

Your sister was alive, Marie; she didn’t die in New York, only she was killed twenty months or so ago by the man who was hunting for her… And the guy who did it wants his money back, and he’ll take it out of you and Tracey since he couldn’t get it back from Amy-Luke winced at the worst-case thought for what he might have to tell Marie. There was not a good solution to this quagmire.

God, just don’t let Amy be dead. I can handle about any of it but Amy staying lost out there somewhere, dead. He finally had the lead he had prayed for years to find, and it wasn’t all that good of news.

“Luke?”

Startled, he looked around toward the door to see his sister standing there, his two dogs winding their way around her knees. They were his dogs until she came over, and their loyalty transferred in an instant.

“Everything okay?”

He sighed. “It will be.”

“You were talking with Sam.”

Susan didn’t know what had absorbed him so much over the last years, but she knew the edges of it. “The trouble’s contained for now at least. How are the steaks?”

“Ready for the grill anytime.”

He heard the doorbell ring. “That will be our guests.”

He rose and joined his sister and went to meet Daniel and Amy’s sister Marie.