He’d further explained that she would be breaking the law, not Carlos, and he’d thought he’d gotten through to her. Then, yesterday, she’d called up screaming. Carlos had apparently picked up Emily from day care without telling Helena, and when she’d gone to collect her, Emily wasn’t there. She’d immediately called Luke on his cell phone, read him the riot act up one side and down the other. Then she’d returned home to find her husband’s truck in the driveway and Carlos and Emily inside the house sharing bowls of ice cream.
She’d called Luke back to tell him, but she hadn’t apologized for her rant. Now Helena was due to meet him at his office and sure enough, almost on the dot, he saw the silhouette of a woman outside the obscured glass of his office door. He expected her to just bust in, as she was wont to do, but this time she hesitated. Maybe she’d thought over her behavior after all. Curious, Luke got up to open the door, but then the handle twisted and the woman entered, along with a blast of blinding, hot September air that damn near broiled him where he stood. He had to lift a hand to shade his eyes in order to see her.
His visitor wasn’t Helena. This woman’s hair was soft brown and long, swept into a loose ponytail at her nape, held by a dull silver clip. Her eyes were green with thick, dark lashes, a certain wariness lurking in their depths, and her nose was straight and a trifle pointy in a way he kind of liked. Her mouth could have been kissable except for the way it was currently drawn into a thin line of disapproval or worry. She was medium height, with a taut body that looked as if she spent time at the gym, but just now she wore lightweight tan pants and a cream-colored blouse. She held a laptop bag in one hand that seemed to be her purse.
“Lucas Denton?” she asked.
It was the hottest day of the year when she strolled into his office, as cool as cherry ice cream.
The line ran through his mind unsolicited. He was torn between laughter and annoyance. Damn you, Dallas. He thrust out a hand. “It’s Luke.”
She held on to the doorknob a tad too long, as if she were about to make an about-face and leave. It took her a moment to shake his hand, but the handshake was firm.
“Andrea Wren. And it’s Andi.”
“Wren,” Luke repeated. He reached around her and shut the door, cutting the heat and blinding sunshine.
“Sorry,” she apologized.
“No problem.”
“Yes, I’m from those Wrens,” she admitted as Luke walked back behind his desk. He gestured to his client chairs and she chose one, smoothed the back of her skirt, and settled herself on the edge.
“I’m going to guess this has something to do with the Carrera brothers.”
She tried to smile but it didn’t reach her lips. “This morning I was approached by Brian Carrera. Threatened by him, actually. I know your story, and I wondered if you would help me find a way to put the Carrera brothers away for good. Legally.”
Luke was trying to place her. Not the sister. That woman was a bit shorter and heavier. “You’re Gregory Wren’s widow?”
“Yes.”
“How were you threatened?”
“I was at the gym and he was on the treadmill next to mine. Your . . . ex-partner’s case came up on the TV and you were interviewed.”
“Ah.” Luke made a face.
“Brian started talking to me, and I realized who he was. He said something to the effect that it would be better if we all got along. How the Carreras were good friends and bad enemies.”
“Well, that’s definitely true.”
“I don’t want to go to the police. With this lawsuit against your partner, it seems like they’re all just covering their . . . covering for themselves.”
“They are covering their asses,” he agreed. “But they also do their jobs. The Carreras don’t play nice. You’re right to be concerned.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
He noticed how flawless her skin was. “Did Carrera say or do anything else?”
“He told me that I need to make sure my brother-and sister-in-law understand that part, about being better friends than enemies.”
“I’d like nothing more than to put the Carrera brothers away for the rest of their natural lives,” he stated flatly.
That netted him her first real smile. She’d set the bag beside her chair, but now she reached into it and gingerly pulled out a white letter-sized envelope with ANDREA printed on the front. She carefully unfolded the paper from it and slid it across his desk.
Written in block print was: Little birds need to fly.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“I just bought a cabin on Schultz Lake and last night this was waiting for me, on the bed. This morning Brian Carrera was on the treadmill next to me.”
“You think he left it for you?”
“I’ve never had any contact with him before, so why is he targeting me? How did he know about my cabin? But I don’t know who else would have left the note. It feels like a threat. I just . . .” She trailed off. Luke tried to hand the note back to her, but she shook her head. “Keep it.”
He stared down at the message. “It’s a play on your last name.”
“The lock on the cabin’s front door was broken, so anyone could have wandered in. Or maybe they broke in. I don’t know. I called my real estate agent and she was going to send someone out to repair it.”
“What do you want me to do?”