“Fine.”
“Okay. Tell me about Carrera. Word for word, as much as you can remember, about what he said to you this morning.”
“Didn’t I already tell you?”
“Give it to me again. The whole conversation. As much as you can remember. Everything.”
With an effort, Andi pulled herself together. She’d hired him and she was going to go with it. “The news was on at my club and someone kept switching the television station. Bolchoy’s hearing was on . . . and you . . . but then there was this archived segment with my husband . . . Greg . . . who was saying that the Carreras build steel-and-glass buildings but that the Wrens were constructing a lodge more in the vein of the one at Crater Lake. Something like that.”
The waitress returned with their meals and Andi looked down at hers, very aware of her jumpy stomach.
“That interview was about a month before Greg died,” she added, dragging her gaze from the food.
“Brian Carrera was on the treadmill next to you?” Luke asked, digging into his meal.
“Yes.”
“And he was watching the newscast, too?”
“Oh yes. Greg was going on about how the Carreras were the wrong choice because they would destroy the feel of the area.” She shook her head. “Again, it was something like that.”
“What did you say?”
“I ignored him. I didn’t really look at him. I didn’t know who he was.”
“He just happened to be on the treadmill next to you.”
“Well . . . yes.”
“Did you get there first or did he?”
“I did. When he took that treadmill I put my jogging jacket over the treadmill on my other side so I could save a place for my friend, Trini.”
“Could he have picked any another treadmill?”
“He did it on purpose. There’s no doubt in my mind.”
“You’re not going to faint, are you? You’re white as a sheet.”
“I don’t faint.” Liar. “At least not usually,” she amended.
“It sounds like Carrera set this up to talk to you. Warn you. Threaten you. Get a reaction.”
She nodded.
“What was the threat again? As close as you can remember.”
“Something like, ‘Maybe you can pass on some information to your brother-and sister-in-law. Tell them to be more reasonable. We make better friends than enemies.’” She carefully tucked her fork into the salad. “And then he said, ‘That lodge you’re building doesn’t look safe.’ And then I said, ‘Did you just threaten me?’ and he said we had common interests, and I said, ‘We have vastly different tactics.’”
Luke was listening, but he was also eating with an appetite she suddenly envied. It felt like her whole body was in rebellion. She realized she’d counted on sailing through her pregnancy with no problems at all, which was unrealistic to say the least. But whatever it took, it was worth it.
“Anything else?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I wish I had said something about the note they left, but I was too stunned and blindsided.”
“You’re sure they left it?”
“Well, no . . . but logically, I get the note and the next day Brian Carrera’s on the treadmill next to me?”
“You don’t have any other enemies?”
“I didn’t even really know I had these. I haven’t been involved in the business until recently.”
Luke nodded. “The fact that it’s a play on words for your last name, which is part of the corporation name, points to the Carreras in a way. They’re attacking Wren Development and the Wren family as a whole. But it’s strange for them. Unless . . .”
“Unless?”
He shrugged. “I’ve followed the Carreras for a long time. They’re money-motivated thugs. Little birds need to fly suggests they want you to leave, and that makes sense, but they usually don’t have that much imagination. His threats to you this morning? They were on the nose. ‘We’re good friends and bad enemies.’ That sounds just like them.”
“So?”
“I don’t know. I don’t like the idea that someone has some deeper, hidden message. The note inside your cabin was directed at you, whereas Brian coming to see you at the gym today was in order to make you the messenger. It’s psychologically different.”
“I guess you’re right.” She put down her fork, unable to eat.
“You don’t like it?”
“No, it’s . . . the pregnancy, I think.”
“Ah.” He regarded her soberly. “I’m not trying to scare you. I’m just spitballing here.”
Andi’s pulse had elevated. Her mind was jumping all over the place. “You think they’re specifically targeting me.”
“I don’t know. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, say what you’re thinking. Please. I need to know.”
“I think you might be a target,” he said carefully.
“That’s why I came to you.” Her voice was rising. “They left me that message. They . . . chose me because I’m the majority stockholder.”
“Wait . . . don’t jump to conclusions. It could be more personal.”