“Actually, I hadn’t heard the assassin angle.”
They exchanged brief smiles.
“You know if you just told people the truth, they’d stop speculating.” She couldn’t believe she had just made that statement, but there it was. She looked at him with what she hoped was an air of complete innocence.
“You’re assuming that I care if people speculate about me. I don’t.”
“That’s beneath you, I take it.”
“If I’ve learned anything in life, it’s that you don’t worry about what other people think or say. You worry about yourself and that’s good enough. Otherwise you’re setting yourself up to be a basket case. People can be cruel. Especially people who supposedly cared about you. Believe me, I speak from experience.”
“I take it the divorce wasn’t exactly amicable?”
He didn’t look at her when he spoke. “I’m not taking anything away from you, but sometimes losing a spouse isn’t as traumatic or painful as going through a divorce. They each have their own degrees of hurt, I guess.”
He looked down at his hands. There was a definite ring of sincerity in his words and LuAnn felt instant guilt that she in fact had not been widowed, at least not by the falsehood of losing a wealthy husband. It was as though he were baring his wounds in return for LuAnn baring hers. As usual, it was all lies on her part. Could she even speak the truth anymore? In fact how could she? Speaking the truth would destroy her, all the lies would immediately fall to earth like those old buildings demolished by explosives that caused them to implode.
“I can understand that,” she said.
Riggs didn’t appear inclined to continue.
LuAnn finally looked at her watch. “Lunch should be just about ready. I thought after we eat you could look at a site at the rear grounds where I’m thinking of having you build a small studio.” She stood up and Riggs did too. He appeared immeasurably relieved that this particular conversation was over.
“That sounds good, Catherine. In my business, work is always welcome.”
As they walked to the rear of the house, Charlie joined them. The two men shook hands. “Glad to see you again, Matt. I hope you’re hungry. Sally usually puts out a good spread.”
Lunch was devoted to enjoying the food and drink and discussing innocuous subjects of local interest. However, there was an energy between Charlie and Catherine Savage that was unmistakable to Riggs. A strong bond, he concluded. Unbreakable, in fact. They were family, after all.
“So what’re we looking at timewise on the fence, Matt?” Charlie asked. He and Riggs were on the rear terrace overlooking the grounds. Lunch was over and LuAnn had gone to pick up Lisa. School had ended early because of a scheduled teacher workshop. She had asked Riggs to remain until she returned so they could talk about the studio construction. Riggs wondered if her going to get Lisa had been a deliberate maneuver to leave Charlie behind to pump him for information. Whatever the reason, he remained on guard.
Before Riggs had a chance to answer him about the fence, Charlie extended a cigar. “You smoke these things?”
Riggs took it. “After a meal like that, and a gorgeous day like this, even if I didn’t, I’d be tempted.” He snipped off the end with a cutter Charlie handed him and they took a moment to get their respective smokes going.
“I figure a week to dig all the postholes. Two weeks clearing land, and assembling and installing the fencing. That includes pouring the cement for the posts. Another week to install the gate and security systems. One month total. That’s about what I estimated in the contract.”
Charlie looked him over. “I know, but sometimes what you put on paper doesn’t work exactly that way in reality.”
“That pretty much sums up the construction business,” Riggs agreed. He puffed on his cigar. “But we’ll get in before the frost, and the lay of the land isn’t as bad as I originally thought.” He paused and eyed Charlie. “After yesterday, I wish I could have that sucker in today. I’m sure you do too.”
It was an open invitation for discussion and Charlie didn’t disappoint Riggs. “Have a seat, Matt.” Charlie indicated a pair of white wrought-iron chairs next to the balustrade. Charlie sat down gingerly. “God these suckers are uncomfortable as hell, and for what they cost you’d think they were made out of gold. I’m thinking the interior designer we used must’ve gotten some kind of kickback on them.” He smoked his cigar while he looked over the landscape. “Damn, it’s beautiful here.”
Riggs followed his gaze. “It’s one reason I came here. A big reason.”
“What were the other reasons?” Charlie grinned at him. “I’m just kidding. That’s your business.” The emphasis on the word was not lost on Riggs. Charlie wriggled in the seat until he managed to find a semicomfortable position. “Catherine told me about your little discussion yesterday.”
“I assumed she would. She shouldn’t go sneaking around people’s houses, though. That’s not always a healthy thing to do.”
“That’s exactly what I told her. I know it might be hard to see, but she’s rather headstrong.”
The two men exchanged knowing chuckles.
“I do appreciate your agreeing not to pursue it,” Charlie said.
“I told her so long as the guy didn’t bother me, I wouldn’t bother him.”
“Fair enough. I’m sure you can see that with all of Catherine’s wealth, she’s a target for a variety of scams, hustles, or downright threats. We have Lisa to worry about too. We keep a real close eye on her.”
“You sound like you speak from experience.”
“I do. This isn’t the first time. And it won’t be the last. But you can’t let it get to you. I mean Catherine could buy a deserted island somewhere and make it impossible for anyone to reach her, but what kind of life would that be? For her or Lisa?”
“And you. It’s not like you’re tapping on the grave, Charlie. You look like you could suit up for the Redskins on Sunday.”
Charlie beamed at the compliment. “I actually played some semipro ball way back when. And I take care of myself. And Catherine nags me about my diet. I think she lets me smoke these things out of pity.” He held up the cigar. “Although lately I’m feeling old beyond my years. But yeah, I don’t want to live on a deserted island.”
“So any luck finding the guy in the Honda?” Riggs asked.
“I’m working on it. Got some inquiries going.”
“Don’t take offense at this, but if you find him, what do you plan on doing about it?”
Charlie looked over at him. “What would you do?”
“Depends on his intentions.”
“Exactly. So until I find him and determine what his intentions are, I don’t know what I’m going to do.” There was a slight trace of hostility in Charlie’s tone that Riggs chose to ignore. He looked back over the countryside.
“Catherine says she wants to put up an outdoor studio. Do you know where?”
Charlie shook his head. “I really haven’t discussed it with her. I think it was a recent impulse on her part.”
Riggs again looked over at him. Had that been a conscious slip on his part? It was as though Charlie were telling him point-blank that the potential new piece of business was the payoff for Riggs keeping his mouth shut. Or was there another reason?
“What would she be using it for, the studio?”
Charlie glanced at him. “Does it matter?”
“Actually it does. If it’s an art studio, I’d make sure there was sufficient lighting, maybe put in some skylights, and a ventilation system to carry the paint fumes out. If she just wants to use it to get away, read or sleep, I’d configure it differently.”
Charlie nodded thoughtfully. “I see. Well, I don’t know what she plans to use it for. But she doesn’t paint, that I know.”