The Killing Game

She was in the kitchen when there was a knock on the door. She started in surprise, then berated herself for being so on edge. Sometimes she wondered if she’d read too much into Brian Carrera’s remarks that day on the treadmill. Were they as threatening as she’d believed? Nothing untoward had happened at the lodge, no dead-of-night sabotage. And Carter had since insisted to both Emma and her that he hadn’t really been thinking of negotiating with them, which was a bald-faced lie, but whatever. As far as Andi was concerned, she was glad she didn’t have to think about the Carreras for a while. Maybe it was just a honeymoon period, but she was grateful for it anyway.

As she crossed to the door she thought of Luke and her steps quickened. There was no reason to think he would be here. She hadn’t seen him in weeks, not since he’d sent Art Kessler to supervise her landscaping, which she’d gratefully appreciated. Between Art and her mother, the cabin was in great shape. She just wished she had a reason to see Luke more.

She checked the peephole and saw that it was her brother on the steps, all six feet three of him. She was surprised and a little disappointed. But had she really expected Luke? The last time they’d talked he’d told her he hadn’t been able to meet with Peg Bellows yet, and if he was following any other plan to bring the Carreras to justice, he hadn’t let her know.

But what was Jarrett doing here? He’d called her right after she got out of the hospital—after being prompted by her mother, she was pretty sure—to see how she was doing, but that had been their only communication. They’d never been close, and after high school Jarrett had gone into the restaurant/bar business, living late hours and hanging around with somewhat suspect associates, while Andi had taken the college and marriage path.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” she asked as she opened the door.

He sent her a faint smile. “In the neighborhood, sort of. I was at Lacey’s and thought I’d stop by.”

Lacey’s . . . Andi’s heart jolted a little. “Not exactly on your beaten path,” she remarked. Jarrett lived miles away, on the other side of Portland.

“Yeah, well, thought I’d come by to see you,” he said lightly. “You gonna make me stand on the porch all night?”

“Come on in.” She opened the door wider and stepped back.

Jarrett crossed the threshold and looked around the cabin with interest. He was tall, dark, and handsome, the total cliché, but he was a hard person to know. But then again, maybe she was, too.

“I saw Trini there,” he said.

“At Lacey’s?”

He half laughed. “I know. Nothing gluten-free and low-salt there.”

“What was she doing there?”

“Enjoying the ambience like the rest of us?”

“Well, I never want to go there again.”

He gave her a sympathetic look, unusual for him. “Trini seemed to be watching the door for someone, but they didn’t show. Maybe another relationship on the edge. She knows how to run through ’em.”

Trini’d run through Jarrett once upon a time. That was her normal way, but Jarrett wasn’t exactly Mr. Relationship either. Their affair, such as it was, had ended badly, but it was long in the past now.

“You seen her lately?” Jarrett asked casually, too casually in Andi’s opinion.

“Not a lot. A few times.”

She’d actually only seen Trini twice since her stay at Laurelton General. Once while her mother was here—though the way Diana had kept busying around and inter rupting them while Trini was over had cut that visit short—and then another time when Andi had met Trini for lunch. That time her friend had been so distracted and unwilling to talk about herself that Andi had asked, “Who are you and what did you do with Trini?”

She’d jerked as if stung, but then she’d relaxed and managed to dredge up a smile. “That bitch? She’s around. Just been busy.”

“Lots of classes?”

She shrugged and nodded.

“Still seeing Bobby?” Andi asked. It wasn’t like Trini to be so unwilling to talk about herself.

“Actually, he’s been like a ghost lately.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah,” she said regretfully. “I think he might be over me . . . us.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that.”

“Ah, well.” She shrugged. “Forget about it. He wasn’t my type anyway. Too buttoned-down, didn’t I tell you? What am I going to do with a guy like that? I mean, really, over the long haul.”

Andi said softly, “You seemed to like him pretty well.”

“The sex was great. That I’m going to miss. And you know, I thought . . . maybe this was just what I need. Maybe I’d been going for the wrong type all along. But it didn’t work out, so whatever.” She cleared her throat and asked, “What about you? How’re you doing, I mean really?”

“Okay. Better. Day by day. Going to work and getting back to my life.”

“Any chance you’ll be back at the gym sometime soon?”

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