September straightened in her chair. Mr. Bromward had complained about severe cruelty to his cats.
“Henry Wren was very opposed to his children associating with the young man.”
“Who was this young man?”
“Not from the camp. He was . . . he rode a horse and mixed in with the others.”
“Lance Patten,” September repeated sharply.
“Oh.” Dumonte collected himself. “Yes, maybe. I’m sorry. I didn’t think that was the name. It doesn’t sound quite right. They called him something else.”
“Laser?”
He inhaled sharply. “Yes, that’s it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dumonte.” September couldn’t wait to get off the phone. George and Gretchen were still discussing Robert Fisher, but Gretchen looked over at her.
“Something?” she asked.
“Animal cruelty from a guy named Laser.” She was checking the clock and punching in the number for Wren Development. If she couldn’t raise Carter Wren, she would call Andi back. Maybe Emma would be awake.
“This is Detective September Rafferty,” she told the receptionist. “I would like to speak with Carter Wren, please.”
She half-expected to be put off, but soon a male voice answered briskly, “Carter Wren.”
“Mr. Wren, I’m Detective September Rafferty. I’m researching a cold case from about thirteen years ago and I’m hoping you can help me.”
“Okay,” he said, mystified.
“A young man named Lance Patten disappeared from his home on Aurora Lane. He used to ride a horse from his home toward Schultz Lake—”
“I know Lance,” Carter interrupted. “Or knew him. He used to come to North Shore, the old summer camp my father sent us to. Has he turned up?”
“We think so.”
“Is he all right?” Carter asked, keying off her cautious tone.
Deciding it was best to lay all her cards on the table, September told him about the cache of bones found at the Singletons’ home. “We believe one set of human bones belongs to Lance Patten.”
“Holy . . . God . . .”
“If you could tell us anything about him that might help us discover what happened to him . . .”
“You know, my brother Greg knew him better than I did,” Carter said slowly. “And Emma . . . Lance was, well, he smoked dope. We all did,” he confessed. “But I think he influenced Emma the most.”
“Did you ever feel he was cruel to animals?”
“God, no. He loved that horse.”
“I understand your sister is in the hospital.”
“Yes,” he said, surprised. “How did you know?”
“I spoke with your sister-in-law on another matter.”
He was taken aback. “She told you about the bird messages?”
“Yes. So, you’ve discussed the notes.”
“Well, we all are Wrens,” Carter said. “Although whoever’s sending them seems to be targeting Andi.”
September didn’t tell him that the notes were taking the investigation outside of just the Wren family. “Would it be possible for me and my partner to talk with you this evening? We could come by your office.”
“I was heading to the hospital . . .” He thought about it a moment. “But sure. I’ll just have to get going pretty soon.”
“I understand.”
“Lance was . . . a good guy but messed up. It’s too bad you can’t talk to Greg. He was the one who really knew Lance well.”
*
Luke pulled up to Peg Bellows’s and felt his blood freeze. The vehicle parked in front was the same as the one he’d watched leave Wren Development. He knew it was one of the Carreras’ without being told.
“Goddammit,” he whispered to himself as he stepped from the truck. He had his Glock in the glove box. He generally didn’t wear a gun anymore, since he’d quit being a cop, but now he reached back inside to retrieve it. This whole setup just didn’t feel right.
Cautiously, bent down, he hurried to the front door. Hearing normal voices inside, he debated what to do.
One of the Carreras was saying, “. . . can’t be held responsible for what happened to Ted. He was my friend. We were all friends.”
Brian, Luke figured.
Then Peg’s voice, “He should never have gone on that boat.”
“Brian’s sorry about the whole thing, Peg,” Blake said. “But it wasn’t his fault. You know that.”
“Do I?” she asked, but she actually sounded like she was being swayed.
That was enough for Luke. He pounded his fist on the door. “Peg, it’s Luke Denton!”
“Shit,” one of the brothers said.
“Let him in,” Peg said calmly.
“We don’t need—”
“Please open the door, Blake,” Peg ordered.
A few moments later the door swung inward. Blake Carrera stepped backward, allowing Luke entry, his gaze hard. “What are you doing here, Denton?” he growled.
“Keeping the lines even,” Luke said. He moved toward Peg, who was standing by the dining area in a pink bathrobe. Her cabin was the reverse of Andi’s, but otherwise just the same. The Carreras were planted in the living room, looking for all the world as if they planned to stay. “What’s going on here?”