LITMIR.BIZ

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gave him a warning look.

      Charlie swirled her wine in her glass.“They had other plans.” She folded her napkin and set it on the table. “I really should be going soon,” she said, having had enough of both food and the atmosphere.

      “Oh no,” Laurel pleaded. “You have to stay for dessert.”

      “What’s the hurry?” Wes asked.

      “I have to let the dogs out.”

      “What are you going to do with them when you move?” Laurel asked.

      “You moving?” Wes asked.

      “If Craig has his way,” Laurel blurted out.

      If she’d had any warning, Charlie would have stopped her. But it was too late. Wes was interested. Laurel launched into Charlie’s story.

      “He’s an even bigger asshole than I thought,” Wes said.

      “Wes,” said Laurel, nodding toward Justin as if his ears were too tender for this.

      “I guess he needs the money,” Charlie said. “He said he won’t be able to afford to keep up my support any more.”

      Wes snorted.“If you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you.”

      “That’s enough, Wes!” Laurel said.

      He continued to focus on Charlie.“You didn’t fall for that shit.”

      Charlie’s eyes widened. “You mean he’s not out of a job?”

      “Oh, he’s out all right. In fact, he’ll never have to work again. He negotiated the merger and included a big fat buyout for himself. Left everyone else hanging out to dry.”

      “Are you sure?”

      “Sure as I am of my own name.”

      Charlie felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. If that was true, why was he after her house? “I’m going to call him on it.”

      “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Wes said.

      “Why not?” Charlie laughed. “What’s he going to do? Kill me?”

      Laurel reached out and touched Charlie’s arm. “Let’s not talk about this now. I have dessert.”

      “You heard about Larry Hopkins,” Wes said, ignoring Laurel.

      Charlie nodded. “That was tragic. Who would have ever thought a golf cart was lethal.”

      “You know who was riding that cart with him, don’t you?” His eyes narrowed.

      “Don’t tell me,” she said.

      “You got it.”

      “What happened?”

      “The way the story goes, and I emphasize the word ‘story’, is they were playing near a water hazard. There’s a lake right off the fourth fairway. Larry’s ball landed at the edge of the water. He went to find it, while Craig teed up for his shot. For some strange reason, the cart rolled down the slope, hit Hopkins, knocked him into the water and landed on top of him.”

      “Didn’t Craig try to stop it? Or at least warn him?”

      “Claims he was concentrating on his ball and didn’t see it move until it was too late.”

      Charlie sat back. “Good Lord. Wasn’t anybody else around?”

      “Nope. Nathan was in a cart behind them. By the time he caught up with them, it was all over.”

      Charlie sat back in her chair. “If you’re implying what I think, you’re wrong. Craig may be a nasty bastard, but he’s not a murderer. Besides, why would he want to kill Larry? They were friends.”

      “Rumors are going around.”

      “That’s enough, Wes,” Laurel interrupted. “Time for dessert. Charlie come with me.”

      In the kitchen she said, “Don’t pay attention to Wes. He’s just letting off steam, and Craig makes a good target. Besides, he’s a little tipsy. A lot of that is the liquor talking.” She handed Charlie four dessert plates. “Here, take this out. I’ll bring the cake.”

      Laurel followed her with a platter bearing what appeared to be a shaggy orange basketball. “What’s that supposed to be?” Wes asked.

      “A pumpkin”. A celery stem poked out from the top.

      He rolled his eyes. “At least you didn’t try to bake the Mayflower.”

      Laurel returned to the kitchen and brought out Charlie’s pie. No one asked for a piece. Charlie picked at the cake, pushing crumbs into a ball. The frosting looked strange, and she couldn’t put her finger on what it tasted of.

      “Is it all right?” Laurel asked anxiously.

      “Oh yes.” Charlie took a bite. “It’s very...” she searched for the word. “different.”

      “I used pumpkin pie filling for the frosting. Made that up myself. It’s like two desserts in one.”

      Charlie pursed her lips. “Very clever.”

      Wes clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back. “Maybe...” he said, then stopped.

      “Maybe what?” Laurel asked,

      “Maybe Craig had a reason.”

      “I thought we weren’t going to talk about this,” Laurel said.

      “Maybe Larry knew something.”

      “Stop it,” Laurel insisted.

      “Like what?” Charlie asked.

      “About the time I left, some auditors were poking around.”

      “Well, of course,” Laurel said. “That makes sense, with the company being sold.”

      “These looked like government types. Pole up the ass, clean cut, wouldn’t talk to anybody except Craig and the finance guys. Lots of closed doors and, secret meetings.”

      “What are you saying?” Charlie asked.

      “I’m saying he may be in deep shit.”

      “Not like jail or anything?”

      He threw up his hands. “Wouldn’t bother me if it was.” He pushed away from the table and stumbled out of the room.

      Charlie followed Laurel to the kitchen with an armload of dirty plates. They worked side by side till everything was cleared away except for the myriad pots draining on the counter. While Charlie dried them, Laurel filled a grocery sack with food. “Who’s that for?” Charlie asked.

      “You.”

      “Please, no,” she protested, staring at the oversized doggy bag. “I have so much food at home, I should bring you some.”

      Laurel forced the bag into Charlie’s hand and walked Charlie to the door. “You’re invited for Christmas dinner. I know Wes was a pill tonight, but he’ll be in a better frame of mind by then. I don’t want you to be alone.”

      Charlie kissed Laurel’s cheek. “Thanks, but I’ll have the kids then.”

      “Just remember, you’ve always got us.”

      That night, sleep eluded Charlie. She replayed Wes’s last statements over and over in her head trying to make sense of them. What kind of trouble might Craig be in? If that was the reason he was so adamant about selling her home, was there any way she could persuade him to back off?

      CHAPTER 4

      On Sunday morning, Laurel sat across the kitchen table from Wes over a breakfast of turkey and stuffing omelets. Justin was sleeping in after

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