While not showing it, Riggs picked up on the subtle undercurrents.
“Thanks for the lunch,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve got things to do and I’ve got some appointments to take care of this afternoon.” He looked over at LuAnn. “Catherine, let me know about the studio.”
“I will. Call me about going for a ride.”
“I’ll do that.”
After he left, Charlie and LuAnn went into Charlie’s study and closed the door.
“Where is the guy?” she asked.
“He’s our neighbor.”
“What?”
“A little rental cottage. Pretty isolated. It’s not more than four miles from here up Highway Twenty-two. I looked at some land up near there when we were thinking of building. Used to be a big estate up there but now there’s just the caretaker’s cottage. Remember, we took a drive up there a while back?”
“I remember exactly. You could walk or ride it through the back trails. I’ve done it. The guy could have been spying on us for a while.”
“I know. That’s what worries me. Pemberton gave me exact directions to the place.” Charlie laid the paper with the directions down on his desk while he pulled on his coat.
LuAnn took the opportunity to scan surreptitiously the directions and commit them to memory.
Charlie unlocked a drawer of his desk. LuAnn’s eyes widened as she watched him pull out the .38. He proceeded to load it.
“What are you going to do?” she said fiercely.
He didn’t look at her as he checked the safety and put the gun in his pocket. “Like we planned, I’m going to go check it out.”
“I’m going with you.”
He looked at her angrily. “The hell you are.”
“Charlie, I am.”
“What if there’s trouble?”
“You’re saying that to me?”
“You know what I mean. Let me check it out first, see what the guy’s up to. I’m not going to do anything dangerous.”
“So why the gun?”
“I said I’m not going to do anything dangerous. I don’t know about him.”
“I don’t like it, Charlie.”
“You think I do? I’m telling you, it’s the only way. Something happens, the last thing I want is you in the middle of it.”
“I’ve never expected you to fight my battles for me.”
He touched her cheek gently. “You’re not exactly twisting my arm here. I want you and Lisa to be safe and sound. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve kind of made that my life’s work. By choice.” He smiled.
She watched him open the door and start to head out. “Charlie, please be careful.”
He looked back, noting the worry in her features.
“LuAnn, you know I’m always careful.”
As soon as he left, LuAnn went to her room, changed into jeans and a warm shirt, and pulled on sturdy boots.
In case you hadn’t noticed, Charlie, my life’s work is to make sure you and Lisa are safe and sound.
She grabbed a leather jacket from her closet and raced out of the house in the direction of the horse barn. She saddled Joy and then galloped off toward the maze of trails behind the mansion.
As soon as Charlie hit the main road, Riggs started to follow from a safe distance in the Cherokee. Riggs had thought it a fifty-fifty possibility that something was going to happen as soon as he left. A friend of Riggs had mentioned seeing Pemberton and Charlie having breakfast the day before. That was smart on Charlie’s part, and indeed, was probably the path Riggs would have taken to track down the man in the Honda. That and Charlie’s excited manner had been enough to convince Riggs that something was up. If he had been wrong, he wouldn’t have wasted much time. He kept the Range Rover just in sight as it turned north onto Highway 22. It wasn’t easy being invisible on the rural road, but Riggs was confident he could manage it. On the seat next to him was his shotgun. This time he would be prepared.
Charlie glanced to the right and left as he pulled the Range Rover underneath the cover of trees and then stopped. He could see the cottage up ahead. He might have wondered who would have built the place in the middle of nowhere, but Pemberton had informed him that the house had been a caretaker’s cottage for a vast estate that was no longer in existence. Ironic that the tiny structure had outlived the main house. He gripped the pistol in his pocket and got out. Threading his way through the thick trees behind the cottage, he made his first stop the shed. Rubbing away the dirt and grime on the window he was able barely to make out the black Honda inside. For this, he and LuAnn owed Pemberton a nice little donation to a charity of his choice.
Charlie waited about another ten minutes, his gaze glued to the small cottage, looking for any movement, any shadows falling across the windows. The place appeared unoccupied but the car in the shed belied that appearance. Charlie moved forward cautiously.
He glanced around but did not notice Riggs crouched behind a stand of thick holly bushes to the left of the house.
Riggs lowered his binoculars and surveyed the area. Like Charlie, he had detected no movement or sound coming from the cottage but that didn’t mean anything. The guy could be in there just waiting for Charlie to put in an appearance. Shoot first and ask questions later. Riggs gripped his shotgun and waited.
The front door was locked. Charlie could have smashed a glass pane next to the door and unlocked the door from the inside, or simply kicked the door until it tore loose from the doorjamb — it didn’t look all that sturdy. However, if the house was indeed occupied, knocking down the door might prompt a deadly response. And, if it wasn’t occupied, he didn’t want to leave any evidence that he had been to the cottage. Charlie knocked on the door, his pistol half out of his pocket. He waited and knocked again. There was no answer. He slid the gun back in his pocket and looked at the lock, a common pin tumbler, to his expert eye. He pulled out two items from his inner coat pocket: a straight pick and a tension tool. Fortunately, arthritis had not yet set into his fingers or he would not have had the dexterity needed to pick the lock. He first slid the pick into the keyhole and then eased the tension tool underneath the pick. Using the pick, Charlie raised the tumbler pins to their open position, and the constant pressure from the tension tool kept the tumbler pins open. Charlie manipulated the pick, sensing the subtle vibrations of the pins until he was rewarded with a click. He turned the doorknob and the door swung open. He replaced his tools in his coat. His State Pen degree had once again worked its magic. All the while he listened intently. He was well aware that a trap could be awaiting him. His hand closed around the .38. If the guy gave Charlie the opportunity to use it he would. The ramifications of such an act were too numerous to analyze; however, at least a few of them would be better than outright exposure.
The cottage’s interior was of a simple configuration. The hallway ran from front to back, splitting the space into roughly equivalent halves. The kitchen was in the back on the left; the small dining room fronted that. On his right was an equally modest living room. Tacked on to the rear of that was a combination mud room/laundry room. Plain wooden stairs on the right made their way to the bedrooms on the second floor. Charlie observed little of this, because his attention was riveted on the dining room. He stared in amazement at the computer, printer, fax, and stacks of file boxes. He moved closer as his eyes swept to the bulletin board with all the news clippings and photos affixed to it.
He mouthed the headlines. LuAnn’s face was prominent among the various photos. The whole story was there: the murders, LuAnn winning the lottery, her disappearance. Well, that had confirmed his suspicions. Now it remained to discover who the man was and, more important, what he wanted from them.