Within fifteen minutes of dropping Marie off, Luke pulled into the drive in front of the resort and stepped out, handing off his keys to the valet.
“Morning, Mr. Sinclair. Great day, isn’t it?”
Luke smiled and nodded. “Good to see the sun.” They’d had rain for a week, and today the sky was a brilliant shade of blue.
Entering the resort was like shifting to a different world. With Coeur d’Alene being such a popular tourist area, the resort was nearly always filled to capacity. Walking past Kinsey’s gallery, he spotted her talking to the client she’d been in such a hurry to see. The woman was tall and slender, tanned and weathered with age. She was wearing what amounted to a work of art—her jacket had been handwoven in shades of purple, lavender, pink, and turquoise, and to complete the outfit, she wore snug fuchsia pants. Silver bracelets dangled on her wrists and on one ankle, and she had at least one ring on each finger. Glitzy, fashionable, and probably rich.
Greeting employees on the way, Luke continued to the bank of elevators that would take him to the top floor to the executive offices. As he stepped into the elevator, he glanced at the people in the car and, recognizing them as staff, let himself breathe again. For six years he’d attuned himself to meticulously checking out his surroundings, examining faces, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Now he’d have to be even more careful.
“There are some messages for you, Thomas,” his secretary told him as he approached her desk. “They’re all on your desk. Phil needs to talk to you about a convention problem. Looks like they have an overlap.” She handed him a memo. “You have a board meeting in the conference room at noon. Catering is all set for that wedding reception tonight. The rest of your schedule is all typed up as usual.”
Luke sighed. “Thanks, Eileen. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” He had used the cliché every morning for the past two years, but he’d always meant every word.
Luke sat down at his desk and rubbed his hands down his face and over his beard. He was exhausted, and the workday had just begun. He glanced at the schedule and pulled out files he’d been working on the day before. Though he had managers to run the various areas of the resort, he liked to keep close tabs on what was going on. Amazing how much trouble could be averted that way.
Looked like he had a light morning. Good, or maybe not so good. He pushed back his chair and paced to the window, back to his desk, and back to the window again. As Luke looked out at the lake, his thoughts floated back to Nick, and he remembered the summer they’d spent here at the lake at the end of their senior year. They’d worked at a camp on the other side. What a summer that had been. That experience was what had prompted Luke to come here from Wyoming. Kinsey had prompted him to stay.
He and Nick had always been friends, but that summer they’d been brothers. And now his brother had been shot. The paper had said Nick was in critical condition.
Luke walked to his desk and picked up the phone, then set the phone back into its cradle. As much as he wanted an update on Nick’s condition, whom could he call? So many phones had caller ID now. He couldn’t risk it. There had to be another way to find out.
The paper. He sat down in front of his computer and typed in www.theoregonian.com. Several minutes later he had his answer, and it shook him to the core.
FOURTEEN
Callen was back working on the house when Angel and her mother returned from the resort. Anna broached the subject of adding a guest for dinner.
“I’d be delighted,” Callen said. “It’s not every day I get to perform my culinary skills on an esteemed law professor.”
Anna chuckled. “Will you need anything special from the store?”
“Nope.” He pulled a nail out of the pouch on his tool belt. “I stopped at the store before I came over.”
“You’re getting too efficient and you’re spoiling us.” She glanced at her cast. “I do appreciate the help, though.”
“Glad to do it.” Callen charmed her with another smile. “I’m thinking if I make myself indispensable around here, Angel will have no choice but to marry me.”
Angel rolled her eyes. “In your dreams, detective.”
“I’ll let you two argue about marriage. I’m going to lie down for a few minutes.”
“You’re off early again today,” Angel said after her mother closed the door to her room.
“Yeah. Wanted to get the addition closed off before it rains. We’re supposed to have showers for the rest of the week. Besides that, I have to be out of town for most of next week. I’m going to the Regional Forensics Academy in Portland for some ongoing training. I need to go four days a year to keep my crime scene certification and deputy ME status. I’ll leave Sunday.”
“Oh.” Angel didn’t bother to hide her disappointment. “What about the shooting investigation?”
“Another detective from the Portland office will be taking over for me. I’d rather not go just now, but this has been in place for months. I’m teaching a class on officer-involved shootings as well.”
Angel cringed. “It’s not like you haven’t had the experience.” Callen had been the one to investigate her own officer-involved shooting. She thought back to the first time she’d seen him. After the shooting, she’d been numb, in shock, and Callen had shown her compassion and respect.
“We’ve had our share here in Oregon. Five in the past year.”
“Mmm.”
“Do me a favor, will you? Help me set this window in.” He gripped one end of the large window, and Angel took the other. She yelped as pain shot through her injured arm. She’d probably overdone it with the swim.
“I’m sorry, Angel. I forgot about the arm.”
“It’s okay.” She gritted her teeth, trying to get a better grip. “I can handle it.”
He set the glass down. “No. Maybe I can get Tim to come over and help me after dinner. Or maybe the professor.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” She rubbed her upper arm and shoulder.
“I am so sorry.” He came to her and encircled her in his arms.
“It’s okay.” She hugged him with her good arm. “I should’ve known better.” She examined the scar, hoping she hadn’t torn the fragile muscles. “I’ll let you get back to work,” she said. “Do you need me to do anything?”
“Nope. I’m all set. Why don’t you rest too? Put some ice on that arm.”
“Okay.”
Angel went into the kitchen and fixed an ice pack, poured a cola, then grabbed the portable phone and headed out to the deck. It was cooler today and smelled like rain. Clouds forming over the ocean threatened a storm. She pulled a light blanket out of the chest they kept by the door and settled onto the padded lounge chair.
Her mind drifted over the events of the past few days, letting the information she’d gathered digest. Tim hadn’t called back yet about the professor, and Angel hoped she had something tangible before he came so she could at least talk to Callen about him. She hadn’t mentioned her suspicions and wouldn’t until she knew more about the professor.
Angel watched the waves break and crash over rocks and sand, letting the rhythm soothe her. She had just closed her eyes when the phone rang.
“Hi, Angel. It’s Rachael.”
“Hey. Do you have a job for me?”
“No, but I have some information. Can you meet me at Joanie’s? I’m dying for a latte, and I’d like to tell you about the Penghetti brothers.”
“Sure. I’ll be right there.”
Angel told Callen where she was going. “I should be back within the hour. Rachael’s been doing some research on the old case Luke was working on.”
“Why is she doing that?”
“Paul asked her to, remember? Maybe she found out something about Luke.”
He frowned but kept working. “I’d be interested in hearing what she’s unearthed. I’ve ordered transcripts of the trial and files from the DA’s office but haven’t gotten them yet.”
“You could come with m
e.”
“Can’t. I really need to finish this up. Take notes and we’ll talk after dinner. If she’s found anything important, I’ll turn it over to Detective Downs.”
“Downs? The name doesn’t sound familiar. Do I know him?”
“Probably not. Jim worked out of the Salem office until recently. I’ll try to bring him by to meet you before I leave town.”
“All right.” Angel blew him a kiss and hurried out to her car, grabbing her bag on the way out the door.
“What did you find?” Angel asked after they’d ordered and taken up residence in their favorite corner.
“Lots.” Rachael opened her briefcase and pulled out a file. “I thought Callen might like this so I made copies. I’ve been emailing the detective who was working undercover on the Penghetti case. Interesting stuff. The witness was actually Robert Penghetti’s son-in-law. He’d come to Detective Mike Lacy, offering to deal. Lacy took him to the DA. Guess Bobby Penghetti’s son-in-law had been in charge of one of the drug operations and wanted out when he realized what it was. They called them ‘import franchises’ and were importing touristy things from all over the world, but that wasn’t all they were importing.
“Detective Lacy says they put the son-in-law in protective custody and started making arrests. Unfortunately, they didn’t find any drugs or anything to indicate wrongdoing. He figures someone found out about Stanton’s deal, and the brothers closed down the operation. The state had a lot of circumstantial evidence, and they hoped that with the guy’s testimony they’d be able to nail the brothers.”
“So they not only closed the operation Stanton was running, they hired a professional to kill him.”
“Exactly. Mike worked with Luke, and at the time thought the hit man had killed Luke and dumped the body, making it look like Luke had disappeared and casting suspicion on him. But, obviously, he was wrong.”
“Did you tell Detective Lacy that Luke is alive?” Angel jotted down the detective’s name and made a few notes.
“I did. I hope that wasn’t a mistake. Mike says he’s been working to get evidence against the family ever since but can’t seem to find proof that they’re involved in anything illegal. They appear to run a number of reputable businesses in everything from imports to real estate.” She paused as Joanie delivered their drinks, then pulled several papers from a packet. “I told him about Nick and what he’d said about Luke. Mike emailed me some pictures. I thought we should show them to Nick and see if any of them match up with the guy who tried to kill him.”
The first was a family portrait of two older men with thick salt-and-pepper hair. They stood beside two women who obviously were their wives. Both women were movie star beautiful and dressed as though they were attending the Oscars. Sitting in front of them were five younger Penghettis.
“Do we know who these people are?”
“This one on the far right is Bernard—he’s Robert’s oldest—then his daughter, Sophia, who is Stanton’s widow, and Michael, the youngest.” Rachael turned the paper over. “Next to Robert is Richard’s son, Rick Jr., and his daughter, Ellen.”
Angel examined each face and pointed to the third one from the right. “This one looks familiar.”
“There’s a bigger picture of all of them. I captured each of the men and did blowups.”
Angel examined Michael’s photo. “I’m seeing a likeness in this guy. Maybe I want there to be a match. I don’t know, but the dark hair, thin face. He resembles the gardener at the funeral.” Thinking about the reporter who’d been taking photos at the funeral, Angel frowned. “I wonder if Faith might have gotten a shot of the gardener. If she did, we might be able to make a positive ID.” She looked at all of the men and sighed. “They look like family. Every one of these guys fits the description.”
None of the photos resembled the professor, however, and Angel felt a modicum of relief. But she wouldn’t rest easy until she felt certain he wasn’t a threat. Angel told Rachael about him.
“I can see why you’d be suspicious. If he is for real, his timing is lousy. He’d be easy enough to check out.”
“I thought so too, but I haven’t heard a word from Tim.”
Rachael handed her a packet of the information. “You might want to share this with Callen. Chances are he’s already gotten most of it.”
After sipping on her iced latte, Angel told Rachael about Callen’s plans to leave town. “There’s a Detective Jim Downs coming in from Portland.”
“Bummer. I bet Callen’s not too happy to be leaving right now. He and Nick have gotten to be friends.”
“He’s not. Have you ever met Detective Downs?”
Rachael shook her head.
“I just hope he’s as good as Callen.”
Rachael tossed her a knowing smile. “No one will measure up to Callen—at least not where you’re concerned.”
“You’re probably right. I’ll just have to keep an open mind.”
Angel finished off her latte, thanked Rachael for the information, and left. She’d thought about stopping by Tim’s office on the way back to the house, but his car was gone from his usual spot so she went on home. Callen’s SUV was gone as well, and Angel figured he may have needed something at the store. She checked for messages, but Tim hadn’t called. Phoning the church produced a recorded message listing the worship times and the office hours, inviting her to leave a message. She hung up and dialed his house. No answer there either.
The house was quieter than it should have been. That may have been due to the fact that Callen wasn’t pounding nails or sawing. Angel knocked gently on her mother’s closed bedroom door.
“Come in.” Anna was lying on her bed, reading a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. “Oh, Angel. I thought that might be you.” She set the magazine aside and sat up.
“Do you know where Callen went?”
Anna frowned. “He isn’t here?” Then, smiling, she added, “No wonder it was so quiet.”
“Maybe he got called out on a case.”
“You could always phone him.”
“Guess I could at that.” Angel grinned and stepped back into the hall.
“Ask him if there’s anything we can do to get ready for dinner. Dr. Hathaway will be here in another hour.”
“Will do.” Angel dialed Callen’s cell phone and was greeted with a terse hello.
“Hello to you too. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“You might say that.”
“What’s going on?”
“Someone just tried to kill Nick.”
FIFTEEN
Callen, are you sure? I thought there was a guard.” She paused for a breath. “You said ‘tried to.’ Is Nick okay?”
“Due to some quick thinking on his part, yeah.”
“What happened? Did you catch the guy?”
“I can’t talk to you right now. I’ll fill you in on the details when I’m finished here. In the meantime, you and your mother are going to have to make dinner. You’ll find everything you need in the fridge. I’m sure Anna can walk you through it.”
“To heck with dinner and Dr. Hathaway. I’m coming over to see Nick.”
“You can’t. Nick is okay, but you wouldn’t be able to talk to him.”
“But...” Angel started to argue and thought better of it. “Okay, I’ll see you later then.”
“Sorry to leave you hanging...”
“I understand.” Angel hung up feeling left out and uneasy. She didn’t want to entertain the professor or cook his dinner without Callen there. Then again, she couldn’t very well leave her mother to deal with the meal or Dr. Hathaway, and as Callen had said, going to see Nick now would be pointless and she’d just be in the way.
Angel delivered the news to her mother, who insisted on praying right then and there. Holding Angel’s hand, she thanked the Lord for Nick’s surviving yet another attack on his life. After the amen, she lifted her gaze and squeezed Angel’s hand. “We’d better see what Callen has planned for dinner.”
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Within minutes they had the oven on and heated. Callen, true to his word, had seen to everything. He’d made a luscious-looking lasagna, and all Angel had to do was put it into the oven. She’d bake the prepackaged sourdough bread and make a salad. Simple enough.
Dinner went amazingly well, considering that Angel still didn’t know if the professor was for real or not. He was charming and entertained them with stories about law students, several of which featured Luke. If the man was an imposter, he’d certainly done his homework.
With suspicions still foremost on her mind, Angel spent most of the time wondering what could have been keeping Tim. She’d tried his home several times, but still no answer. Finally at 8:15, the phone rang. She jumped up from the table to pick it up.
“Angel, it’s Tim.”
“Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”
“We were at the doctor’s office first, then the hospital. Abby has the flu and a high fever. She can’t keep anything down, and the doctor finally decided to hydrate her.”
“Oh no. Is she okay?”
“She’s weak and still running a slight fever. They’re giving her an IV.” He sighed heavily. “I just sent Susan and Heidi home. Heidi isn’t feeling too well either. Hope she doesn’t get what Abby has.”
“I hope not. Tell Abby that Nana and I send our love.” Visions of the little girl in the hospital room reminded Angel of Nick. “Have you seen Nick?”
“No, I haven’t had time.”
“Then you haven’t heard the latest. Someone tried to kill him again. Callen is there.”
“I can’t believe it. No wonder there are so many cops around.”
“I don’t imagine you were able to do any research on you-know-who?”
As Good as Dead Page 8
